Word Count: 609
Character(s): Ambrose Varyn, Ominis Gaunt
Setting: 5th year, Divination Class
Genre/Tags: Fluff, blatant confusion about how palmistry works
“Of course,” Ominis sighed and Ambrose had to hold back a snicker as Professor Onai announced they’d be working on Palmistry.
“Ill help you,” Ambrose chuckled as he opened his Divination textbook to the proper page. “Here give me your hand.”
Ominis held his hand out and Ambrose shifted it so the back of Omini’s hand rested in the palm of his.
“Okay so this is your head line,” Ambrose said. He lightly traced the line with his finger, making Ominis shiver. Ambrose managed not to smirk. “It curves up, so you’re logical and levelheaded.”
“How far down does yours curve?”
“You’re hilarious, honey.”
“I do try.”
Ambrose just laughed and shook his head. “Your destiny line is fairly straight so you don’t have a lot in store for you on that front. Wow your heart line covers almost your whole hand.”
Ambrose traced that one next and watched a blush creep up Ominis’s neck.
“Apparently you have a caring, and loving personality,” Ambrose told him. “And a rather loveable one if I do say so myself.”
“Quiet,” Ominis pouted. Ambrose granted him mercy and moved on to the next line on his palm.
“A pretty goos line of success, not super ling but according to your fate line you shouldn’t have much opposition in life,” Ambrose hummed. “Then…oh.”
The last line was the health line. The book couldn’t quite decide if the line meant physical health, if you would be badly hurt in the future, or if it indicated your lifespan. Either way Ominis’s was concerningly short.
“What is it?” Ominis asked.
“Nothing just your health line is pretty short,” Ambrose glanced between Ominis’s hand and the book again. “It could be your lifespan or just your health in general.”
“Gee I wonder why my health may be poor,” Ominis said sarcastically. Ambrose was confused for a moment before he realized and snorted. He had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud in the middle of class.
“You’re terrible,” Ambrose chuckled. “Do you want me to write it all down for you?”
“I think I remember it all,” Ominis replied.
“Okay, I’ll start mine,” Ambrose said.
He began to write down his observations from his own hand while Ominis dictated his own results to his quill. Ambrose’s heart line fully covered his hand and his headline was almost perfectly straight, only curving down a bit. His success line was long so that was nice.
Ambrose guided Ominis’s hand to his hand and traced his fingers along the fate line.
“Is it supposed to be that long?” Ominis wondered.
“It’s longer than the diagrams in the book,” Ambrose groaned. “This is the Keepers’ fault.”
“Of course, I’m sure it had nothing to do with you throwing yourself into danger every chance you get,” Ominis hummed.
“Rude,” Ambrose muttered.
Finally he got to his health line and found something intriguing.
“Omi are you done with your notes?”
“Yes, why?”
“Give me your hand again.”
Ominis offered his hand once more and Ambrose held their hands next to each other.
“Our health lines are the same length,” Ambrose observed.
It was actully relieveing. If Ambrose died young it would most likely be due to Ranrok or Rookwood, but Ominis wouldn’t die at the same time in those cases. So if their lines were the same length it meant that Ominis wouldn’t die young alongside Ambrose, and that Ambrose hopefully wouldn’t die early either.
Twelve years later, when he had Sebastian’s arm around his waist and Ominis’s hand found his he realized what it all meant as the cavern exploded around them.
Ambrose Varyn & Odysseus Carrow, Ambrose Varyn x Ominis Gaunt
Summary: Ambrose knew that the Gaunts found out about him and Ominis, and he knew Ominis was technically betrothed to someone in some sort of arranged marriage. But somehow he did not expect to receive a letter from Ominis' betrothed asking to meet.
Dear Ambrose Varyn,
Ominis' father told me about you and Ominis. I've arranged to travel to Hogsmeade so I can speak with you on our own terms. I'll be in the Three Broomsticks tomorrow at 5 pm. Be there or this situation will play out much less cordially. Do not tell Ominis. Come alone.
Odysseus Carrow
Ambrose's eyes widened further and further as he read through the letter he'd just received. He had not expected this kind of thing to be quite literally dropped in his lap in the middle of breakfast.
"Well?" Sebastian nudged his foot under the table. "What does it say?"
Ambrose hesitated. He hated the idea of lying to them, it made his skin want to crawl from his bones. But he also really did not want to piss off his boyfriend's betrothed. Ominis had assured him the betrothal was purely an arranged marriage and there was no real romance between them, but he felt he at least owed it to Odysseus to respect his wishes.
"Just a letter from Sirona," Ambrose replied, shoving the letter in his pocket. "Asked me to meet her at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow."
"Is everything alright?" Ominis asked, the slightest tinge of worry in his tone.
"She didn't say anything was wrong," Ambrose shrugged. "I'm sure she just wants to tell me something about Rookwood."
"We should come with you then," Ominis said.
"Darling, I can handle a visit to the Three Broomsticks," Ambrose chuckled and hoped it didn't seem as nervous as he was. He kissed Ominis' temple as he stood. "I'll see you in History of Magic, okay?"
"Alright," Ominis sighed. "But tell us if you need us please."
"Don't I always?" Ambrose snickered.
"No, you don't."
"And yet you love me anyway."
"You two are disgusting," Sebastian stated.
"Yeah yeah," Ambrose rolled his eyes.
The next day Ambrose walked into the Three Broomsticks just a few minutes before 5 pm. He rubbed his hands together to warm them from the autumn chill. Stupid dragon eating his only pair of gloves. He had to say, the Three Broomsticks seemed particularly warm today, relaxing his body, soul, and mind.
"Well hello there," Sirona chuckled. Ambrose couldn't help a grin as he approached the bar and immediately got a butterbeer placed in front of him.
"Sirona you're a saint," Ambrose sighed in relief.
"It's been said," Sirona shrugged. "I haven't seen you around here for a while."
"You would not believe how busy I've been," Ambrose said.
"I'll say," Sirona replied. "Rookwood is still looking for you and he seems to be getting angrier. But I'm sure you had nothing to do with it."
"Come on Sirona, me?" Ambrose snickered. "That doesn't sound like something I would be involved with at all."
"Uh huh," Sirona laughed. "Your friend is waiting for you at the table in the back."
"He's here already?" Ambrose glanced around and saw a boy sitting in the corner staring right at him. "Right. I have to go. I'll talk to you later."
"And you better catch me up," Sirona replied. Ambrose just nodded as he headed over to the table.
Odysseus Carrow shouldn't be someone to worry about. He was short, much shorter than Ambrose, and he looked almost sickly. Dark shadows rested under his eyes, and even under his tailored suit Ambrose could tell how skinny he was. His dark brown hair fell to his shoulders, barely covering a scar over eye and eyebrow. Yet he still made Ambrose want to squirm.
There was something about his eyes. He didn't flinch or glance away, unlike Ambrose who kept looking around the pub for any poachers who may see him. But Odysseus just stared right at him, no, through, him. His eyes were an odd color too. In the shadows and dull firelight Ambrose couldn't quite make it out. They seemed gray but he couldn't be sure.
"Odysseus?" Ambrose asked and Odysseus nodded, gesturing to the seat across from him. Already Ambrose's mind was racing. He had no idea why Odysseus wanted to meet him. The only reason he could think of would be laying into him for dating Odysseus' betrothed but-
"I'm not here to yell at you," Odysseus said. "What I assume Ominis told you is true. Our betrothal is entirely organized by Ominis' father, Hiram, and my uncle, Magnus. There is no romance between us and there never has been. In fact, we both would love nothing more than to not get married."
"However," Odysseus continued. "I was Ominis' friend before he even met the Sallows. Before he started spending his summers in Feldcroft, when he was trapped in the Gaunt Mansion and I in Carrow Manor we were all each other had. And in light of our arrangement, I deserved to meet you at least. I wanted to see who you are on your own, without Ominis here to help you."
"Fair enough I suppose," Ambrose muttered, tracing the bottom of his mug. "What do you want to know?"
"What will you do if we are wed?"
The question was so sudden Ambrose choked on his butterbeer. He'd expected small talk, not something like that.
"I don't do small talk," Odysseus scoffed. "Answer my question."
He had no idea how to answer it. He spent most of his time either taking down Rookwood's poachers with Natty and Poppy or fighting off Ranrok or dealing with the Keepers' trials. He barely remembered to write home most of the time. He didn't even have plans for winter, much less after graduating.
But the question was one he needed to consider. He didn't know much about how the Gaunts and Carrows worked. He knew the "Sacred Twenty-Eight" were basically wizarding nobility with ridiculous amounts of wealth and influence. He knew Ominis talked about the marriage like it happened all the time and was something he wanted to fight but might be inevitable. He knew the disgust and disdain in Ominis' voice when he talked about his family. He knew their cruelty and selfishness. He knew the nightmares Ominis hid from in his arms. But he didn't know much else.
Odysseus was staring at him again. Ambrose may have been imagining it but Odysseus seemed tenser than before, with the slightest crease between his eyebrows.
"What would that mean for you two?" Ambrose asked slowly. "If you do get married."
"We would be married," Odysseus raised an eyebrow. "We would have to produce an heir, so I'd have to get pregnant at least once. Depending on our siblings' children we may have to keep trying until we have a male heir. But you really mean would we be entirely committed to one another."
"I...yeah," Ambrose admitted.
"Theoretically yes," Odysseus said. "We could never marry another or truly date anyone else. The most we could have is a consensual affair which admittedly is common in our families. So, if we never find a way out of this marriage, would that be enough for you?"
Ambrose paused so he could really, truly think about it. He didn't want to just give the answer Odysseus wanted to hear or what he "should" say. Whatever it was he wanted to mean it. Would that be enough? Especially if he wanted to save Everett. Could he handle both? Could he be a secret, alone, for the rest of his life, just for Ominis? But could he lose Ominis completely?
"Yes," Ambrose said. "Yes it would."
"You really do love him," Odysseus realized. His voice was nowhere near gentle but the edge to it was dulled a little.
"With everything I have," Ambrose promised.
"Good," Odysseus took a deep breath and leaned forward so he could whisper. "Then leave him."
"What?!" Ambrose exclaimed and immediately got a headache that made him wince and lower his voice. "What was the point of all that then?"
"I am glad you love Ominis," Odysseus said. "No one on this planet deserves to be loved more than him. But you loving him means you will just kill you both. They will find out you're more than an affair and that he really cares about you. You'll have to meet his family, and his family...whatever he's told you, they're worse. I would know. You say one wrong thing and they will kill you and that will destroy him. So if you love him, leave him."
"You want me to just give up on him?" Ambrose said. "I'm not going to leave him because you're scared."
"I am living with them," Odysseus growled. Ambrose's eyes widened. Why would he...shit. "Yes, it's your fault. I've been living with them for weeks so they can keep an eye on me. They're scared I'll do something stupid that will make all this worse. I've been prepared to live in that damn mansion my whole life. You will not survive them."
"We could help you," Ambrose insisted. "I'll tell Ominis and we'll save you, he won't just leave you there."
Odysseus, for the first time that evening, bursted into laughter. It wasn't bright or happy in any way. Ambrose didn't know a laugh could sound so defeated.
"You're a nice guy, Ambrose," Odysseus sighed. He stood up and dropped a stack of galleons on the table. "And maybe nice will help you with the trials, Rookwood, and the Poachers."
Ambrose felt like he'd just been hit with a glacius spell. "How did you-"
"Listen to me," Odysseus leaned forward, putting his hands on the table to look Ambrose in the eyes. Ambrose hadn't noticed before but his eyes weren't gray at all. They were purple. There was something behind his gaze, something that made him feel much too dangerous for a Squib. "Nice will not help you with this. These people, our families, they don't care about nice. They don't care if you're polite. They don't care about reason. Nothing you have will help you."
"Then what do I do?" Ambrose pleaded.
Odysseus stood up. Suddenly he didn't look dangerous anymore. He looked tired. More tired than any fifteen year old has any right to be.
"Get away from the Gaunts," Odysseus answered. "Run. While you still have the choice."
