Second fanfic request by an anon! Hope you all enjoy it!
Warnings/description:
Ominis Gaunt x Hufflepuff reader
Fluff!
No mentions of y/n
Hufflepuff x Slytherin
Protective/spoiling Ominis
Female reader
When Ominis notices his girlfriend (the reader) is struggling with balancing her studies, social life, and magical abilities, he decides to take her on a nice date to Hogsmeade to clear her mind. He insists on buying her anything and everything she wants, no matter how insistent she is she doesn’t want him spending money. The two bond as they shop their way around Hogsmeade and care for each other.
💛💚The Date 💚💛
The common room was stifling. Not in temperature, but in the way the low firelight seemed to press in on me, highlighting every scrawled line of my Arithmancy homework until the numbers blurred into a meaningless, tangled mess. My quill hovered, useless, a bead of ink swelling at its tip, threatening to fall and ruin the parchment I’d already spent an hour failing to complete.
The pressure of it all—the looming deadline for my O.W.L.S, Professor Weasley’s knowing look about my “special project” with Ancient Magic, the sheer weight of a normal fifth year’s workload—was a physical knot between my shoulders.
A soft rustle of fabric and the familiar, clean scent of bergamot and parchment announced him before he spoke.
“You’re thinking so loudly I can hear it from the portrait hole,” Ominis said, his voice a low, gentle murmur. He didn’t sit, just stood beside the arm of the sofa, his pale, unseeing eyes fixed somewhere near the ceiling. His wand was tucked into his sleeve, as always, a silent extension of his senses.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, slumping back against the cushions. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be… a storm cloud.”
A small, fond smile touched his lips. He reached out, his hand finding my shoulder with an accuracy that still amazed me. His thumb traced a slow, comforting circle on the fabric of my cardigan. “You’re not a storm cloud, my love. You’re just… preoccupied. Heavily.”
He let his hand drift down, fingers finding mine and gently tugging. “Come on. Up.”
“Ominis, I can’t,” I protested, gesturing vaguely at the mess of parchment and textbooks spread across the low table in front of me. “I have to finish this, and I wanted to get a head start on the Charms essay, and—”
He silenced me by pressing his cool fingers against my lips for a fleeting second. “What you have to do,” he said, his tone shifting to one of quiet, immovable certainty, “is stop. Put your quill down. Forget the numbers.”
“But—”
“No.” He tugged again, more firmly this time, and I found myself rising to my feet, pulled into the circle of his arms before I could formulate another excuse. He held me close, one hand splaying across my back, the other coming up to cradle the back of my head, his cheek pressing against my hair.
“You’ve been in here for four hours,” he murmured into my hair. “Sebastian mentioned he saw you skip lunch. Again.”
I should have known he’d have spies. I sighed, the tension in my shoulders loosening just a fraction as I let myself lean into him. He was always so steady, a cool, solid presence amidst the chaos. “I just… there’s a lot.”
“I know,” he said, his voice softening. “Which is why I’m taking you away from it.”
I pulled back just enough to look at his face, at the determined set of his jaw beneath those pale, sightless eyes. “Taking me where?”
“Hogsmeade,” he stated, as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the world. “Tomorrow. The whole day. We’re leaving after breakfast.”
A protest rose in my throat, a reflex born of stress and a sense of obligation. But he cut it off, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“No arguments, sweetheart. You’re tired. You’re stressed. And I,” he said, his thumb stroking the worry lines from between my brows, “am being a selfish boyfriend who wants his brilliant, overworked Hufflepuff all to himself for a day. Is that so terrible?”
The knot between my shoulders loosened a little more. A day. A whole day with Ominis, no homework, no Ancient Magic, no deadlines. Just the crisp autumn air and him. “When you put it like that,” I conceded, a small smile finally tugging at my own lips, “how could I possibly say no?”
“You couldn’t,” he said simply, a triumphant smirk gracing his features. He kissed the tip of my nose. “It’s settled. Now, pack up your things. I’ll escort you to your common room. No more studying tonight.”
He kept a firm, warm hold on my hand as I gathered my things, his presence a quiet anchor. As we walked through the dim corridors, his thumb stroked the back of my hand in a steady, hypnotic rhythm. He was unusually quiet, but it wasn’t a tense silence. It was… expectant. Focused. I could feel a new kind of energy radiating from him, a quiet determination that made my heart flutter.
The next morning, the October air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and woodsmoke. Ominis met me at the base of the grand staircase, and the moment I reached the last step, he took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.
“Ready, my darling?” he asked, and the warmth in his voice was enough to chase away any lingering anxiety about the work I’d left behind.
“Ready,” I affirmed, squeezing his hand.
The walk to Hogsmeade was beautiful. The path was carpeted with leaves in shades of amber and crimson, and Ominis stayed close, his shoulder brushing mine, his hand never leaving my own. At one point, the path narrowed, and instead of dropping my hand, he simply slid his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side.
“Just so I don’t lose you,” he murmured, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.
I smiled, leaning my head against his shoulder for a moment. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He was true to his word. The moment we stepped into Hogsmeade, he became a man on a mission.
“First,” he announced, steering me towards Honeydukes, “sugar. I can hear you worrying from here. We need to drown it out.”
He kept my hand firmly in his as we navigated the crowded shop. It was endearing to watch him, how he used his other senses to compensate. He’d pick up a jar of Fizzing Whizzbees, hold it close, and listen to the faint fizzing sound before deciding it was “acceptable.” He’d ask me to describe the colors of the Sugar Quills, then select the one he thought I’d like best based on my tone of voice.
“Get whatever you want, my love,” he said, pressing a velvet pouch of coins into my free hand. “Anything at all.”
“Ominis, this is too much,” I started, looking at the small mountain of sweets already accumulating in the basket I was carrying.
He turned to me, his brow furrowed in mock seriousness. “It’s not nearly enough. You work yourself to the bone and forget to eat. Consider this… preventative medicine. Now,” he said, his expression softening, “get those Chocolate Frogs you like. The ones with the extra dark chocolate.”
I blinked. “How did you—?”
“You hum when you eat them,” he said with a quiet smile. “A very specific, very content hum. It’s my favorite sound.”
My heart melted into a puddle of goo. I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m thorough,” he corrected, a smirk playing on his lips. He reached out and found my waist, pulling me in for a proper, albeit brief, kiss. “Now, stop distracting me from my mission. We have the rest of the village to spoil you in.”
He was unusually clingy the entire day, in the most wonderful way. In Tomes and Scrolls, he stood behind me as I browsed, his arms wrapped around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. He’d whisper comments in my ear about the books I picked up, his breath warm against my neck. “That one’s for pleasure, not for study,” he’d say if I reached for a textbook, steering my hand towards a novel instead. “You need to remember how to enjoy reading, sweetheart.”
In Gladrags Wizardwear, he sat patiently on a velvet stool, his head tilted as he listened to the rustle of fabric as I tried on a scarf. When I emerged from behind a changing screen, I watched his expression shift, a soft smile gracing his lips.
“It’s a deep, emerald green,” I told him, wrapping it around my neck. “Very Slytherin of me.”
“Buy it,” he said immediately.
“Ominis…”
He rose from the stool, closing the distance between us in a few strides. His hands found the ends of the scarf, adjusting it with a tenderness that made my throat tighten. “It’ll smell like you, and you’ll be wrapped in my house colors,” he said, his voice low. “It’s a compromise, since you refuse to wear my Quidditch robes around the castle.”
I laughed, the sound surprising me. I hadn’t laughed like that in days. “You don’t even play Quidditch.”
“A minor detail,” he dismissed, his hands sliding from the scarf to cup my face. “Buy the scarf. Please. For me.”
“Alright,” I conceded, leaning into his touch. “For you, you incorrigible man.”
He rewarded me with a brilliant smile that lit up his entire face.
By the time the afternoon shadows began to lengthen, we’d visited almost every shop. I had insisted on a few stops for him too—picking out a new, softer set of gloves for him at Gladrags, and a beautifully bound blank journal at Tomes and Scrolls that he’d been hesitating over. He’d been quietly touched by the journal, his fingers tracing the embossed leather cover for a long moment before he leaned in and kissed me, a soft, lingering thank you.
He led me to the Three Broomsticks for dinner, securing a small table in a quiet corner away from the usual rowdy crowd. He held my chair out for me, a gesture so old-fashioned and courtly that it made me smile.
Over steaming plates of shepherd’s pie and butterbeer that Sirona brought with a knowing wink, we talked. Not about homework or Ancient Magic or the pressures of being a fifth year. We talked about everything else.
“Tell me about the funniest thing a badger has done this week,” he said, his elbow on the table, his chin propped on his hand, his face turned towards me with an expression of absolute attentiveness.
And I did. I told him about the third-year who’d accidentally charmed all the cushions in the common room to sing the Hogwarts school song every time someone sat down. He laughed, a genuine, unguarded laugh that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“Your house is chaos,” he said, shaking his head fondly.
“And your house is a snake pit,” I retorted, popping a piece of potato into my mouth. “But you’re my favorite serpent.”
He reached across the table and took my hand, his thumb stroking my knuckles. “I like when you call me that,” he admitted quietly. “Makes me feel less like a Gaunt and more like… yours.”
I squeezed his hand, my heart aching with affection for this complex, gentle boy. “You’ve always been mine, Ominis. Ever since you let me win that first duel in Crossed Wands.”
He scoffed. “I did not let you win. My wand hand was tired.”
“Sure it was,” I teased, grinning. “My brave, noble snake.”
A flush crept up his neck, and he brought my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm. “My incorrigible badger.”
After dinner, as the sky deepened into a twilight blue, we walked through the quietening village, our hands swinging loosely between us. The day had been perfect. A balm on a wound I hadn’t even realized was so raw.
We found a bench near the outskirts of the village, overlooking the path back to Hogwarts. The last of the day’s warmth was fading, and I shivered slightly. Ominis noticed immediately.
“Come here,” he murmured, pulling me onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around me, one arm secure around my waist, the other hand coming up to cradle my head against his shoulder. He pulled the new green scarf up, tucking it around my neck. “Better?”
“Much,” I breathed, snuggling into his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, steady and sure. “This was… Ominis, this was perfect. Thank you.”
His arms tightened around me. “You needed it,” he said simply, his voice a low rumble against my ear. “I hated seeing you so worn down. I’d do anything to make that go away. Anything, my darling. Just say the word.”
I tilted my head up to look at his face. His eyes, usually so distant, seemed to hold a soft, focused intensity. He was so handsome, the fading light catching the sharp lines of his jaw, the pale elegance of his features.
“You already did,” I whispered, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. He leaned into my touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips. I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, my sweet boy.”
He turned his head, capturing my lips with his in a kiss that was soft and deep and full of unspoken promises. It wasn’t hurried or desperate; it was a kiss of quiet devotion, of gratitude, of a love that asked for nothing more than the moment it was in.
When we finally broke apart, he kept his forehead pressed against mine. “I want to do this more often,” he said. “Take care of you. Not just when you’re stressed. I want to be the reason you’re smiling, my love. Every day.”
“You are,” I assured him, my fingers threading through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He hummed contentedly, a low, pleased sound that vibrated through both of us.
“Good,” he murmured. He pulled me closer, tucking my head back under his chin, holding me so tightly it was as if he was trying to absorb the very stress I’d been carrying. “Now stay here for a moment. Let me just… hold you.”
I nodded against his chest, letting my eyes close. The sounds of Hogsmeade faded into a soft, distant hum. All I could feel was the solid warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his heart, the protective circle of his arms. In his embrace, the deadlines and the pressure and the ancient magic didn’t exist. There was only him, and this perfect, quiet moment.
“I love you,” I whispered into his shirt, the words muffled but sincere.
His arms tightened impossibly further, and I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. “And I love you, my brilliant, wonderful Hufflepuff. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. Now, let’s get you back before you fall asleep on me. Though,” he added, a hint of a teasing smile in his voice, “I wouldn’t entirely mind if you did.”
I laughed, the sound light and easy, and let him help me to my feet. He kept me tucked against his side the entire walk back, his hand firm on my hip, his presence a shield against the encroaching night. The week’s stress felt like a distant memory, replaced by his lingering love and affection for me. When we parted ways at the Hufflepuff common room entrance, we ended the night with a hug and a quick kiss.
That night, in the soft green pajamas I had stolen months ago from my beloved boyfriend, I dreamt of Ominis and his kindness, his love for me, and hoped a day like this one would come again soon.
Hope you guys liked this one! I worked really hard on it and can’t wait to start my chapter fic this week!
Tuve una cita ultra mega hiper lésbica con mi querida y amada esposa @almostloudmaker2 para celebrar nuestro eeeeh ¿aniversario? O el día que designamos como día gei mejor KDBSKDBDKD (ignoren mi cara de drogadicción en el primer dibujo)
Hicimos acuarelas y un poco de acrílico con marcadores de alcohol sisi. Como notarán los conocedores (?), la mitad de la hoja la llenó ella y yo nomás hice una naranja y el dibujo con mi hijo de un año de parido
