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If My Heart Could Speak

Summary:

“I know it makes not a lick of sense but given the circumstances of my birth were different, perhaps I would have yearned for the chance to be a Triwizard champion for Hogwarts.”

or reader puts their name in the Goblet of Fire because Ominis cannot.

Notes:

imagine the triwizard tournament wasnt banned for me pls.

Chapter 1: arrival

Chapter Text

You really never thought your name would end up in the goblet of fire, not in a million years. You didn't need the validation or the heightened chance of death. Your friends and family had lost enough already, they didn’t need this too.

But here you are… considering it. Sitting between two of your fellow Slytherins and listening to your Headmasters voice drone through the Great Hall. As your mind wanders you remember when Ominis had told you, “I know it makes not a lick of sense but given the circumstances of my birth were different, perhaps I would have yearned for the chance to be a triwizard champion for Hogwarts.” Then you were first years and now you are seventh years, amazed at how far you’d all come.

You remember it now as Sebastian grins at you from your opposite side. You knew his name had a spot saved in that goblet, probably since the day Sebastian learned of its very existence.

Professor Black finishes up his opening speech and welcomes the other schools' selected attendees. First the witches, and a few wizards, from Beauxbatons Waltz in. They have a full blown dance routine. You heard about it before, that Hogwarts even had something they did when they arrived in the years the other schools hosted. You smile delightfully and press the back of your hand into Ominis’ arm. “Oh, Ominis, they’re dancing.” He gives a huff that is almost a laugh. “I’m serious! They're doing… ballet? It’s quite pretty, honest. Just think they're trying to intimidate us. Not very intimidating though.”

Sebastian joins into your hushed conversation. “I’m almost nervous now just by their sheer beauty itself,”

“Me and you both know they're not your type, Sebastian” You joke, “Far too put together. And well… French”

Ominis reaches across you to tug at Sebastian’s sleeve. “You know they dont mean it like that. They're just jealous.” he snorts at his own jab.
Ominis has taken to embarrassing you lately, quite off the mark, but embarrassing nonetheless. Your feelings for Sebastian are nothing short of complicated. Did you like him the way the other boy was insinuating? You didn’t know. Did you have the capacity to? Certainly. Given the way he acted with your other friend, the one who came late in their fifth year, who now sits across from them at the hufflepuff table, you could say you didn't have a chance. Not that you minded, like you said, it's complicated.

Just as complicated as the heat that rises to the top of your skin at the both the comment Ominis makes and his arm pressed almost to your chest. Ominis runs hot, you learned that quickly during your late night study sessions on the couches of the common room your second year. He would listen to you read the designated textbook for the night, after he tired of transfiguring his own books into braille. Soon he got comfortable enough to lean his head onto your shoulder. Godric he’s warm, especially in the chill of your common room.

“No, I actually might vomit all over the table if you say something like that again.” he gives you an incredulous look and you roll your eyes hoping he knows you well enough to sense it. “Everyone will be so upset Hogwarts will have to cancel the Triwizard Tournament.” You jabbed him in the side, eliciting a previously unheard of sound from the young Gaunt boy. You both stop giggling when a fourth year from across the table shushes you. Their shush marks the entrance of the wizards from Durmstrang. You note with a sigh that they don't seem to have any witches among their ranks. Ominis leans against your side, a silent questioning of your reaction and also asking you to describe the new guests. “No witches, just a bunch of men in fur. Quite attractive if you ask me.” you tease. He rolls his eyes dramatically. “They are handsome, don't you agree Sebastian?”

“Maybe under the seemingly endless layers. They know it is almost 15 degrees right? There's not even snow on the ground. They must be sweating in there.” Sebastian leans his head onto one of his hands, bored, or admiring the new faces, you weren't sure.

The Durmstrang students sat with the Slytherins, but far closer to the front of the hall than the three of you were. You leaned forward a bit to catch a glimpse of them.

As the students settled in Professor Black clears his throat at the front of the hall, “I’m sure you all are aware that along with the Triwizard Tournament comes the Yule Ball.” he clears his throat again. “The Yule Ball will be held this 25th of December, Professor Weasley will be holding a mandatory dance lesson, she will let your prefects know the days your house will be required to participate.” He seems bored with talk of the dance, much less lively than he was talking about how dangerous and deadly this tournament's trials were. After that he turns you away to your meal and to speak amongst yourselves. He was a freak, you thought to yourself. Turning once to Sebastian, once toward Ominis and once to the late student across the way. The Chosen One even.

“You’re going to ask them right, Sallow?” you say which causes him to choke with a start, spitting out some incomprehensible words before coughing and beating his chest with his fist, trying to dislodge the saliva he had inhaled. You rub his back soothingly, almost sorry if it hadn’t been for the flush that spread along his cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears. He was cute, even choking, you giggled. “What’s wrong?” you whisper to him teasingly.

He clears his throat one last time and his voice is rough when he speaks again, “I-I don't know what youre talking about. No way.” he wipes the reflexive tears away. “Are you going to take Ominis?” he tries to tease you back but you refuse to let it get to you.

“Maybe I will, what other options do I have? I can't take you if you drool over them the whole time. Don’t have any other friends, honest.” you trail off at the end and pick up your fork to push your food around. Maybe it was a little mean to Ominis that he was your second- no… your last choice. You turn to him but if he took it that way he didn't show it. “Or I’ll take one of the Durmstrang boys,” you elbow Sebastian “Maybe even the Triwizard Champion.” he scoffs at that. You all settle into your meals and speak less after that.

----

After the feast you help Ominis guide himself back to the common room. You know he could use his wand to get back but you think he enjoys the closeness, your arms linked together. He asks you, of course. You know he’s fully capable of getting around and you would never try to help him if he didn’t want it. You remember your first year, it was almost overwhelming the amount of older students who would come to him asking to help him around, as though he hadn't been blind and navigating places his entire life. He thought it was funny now but at the time it felt like they were only doing it to make themselves feel better.

The trek to your common room is mostly silent, Sebastian had gone down with the chosen one to the undercroft, who knows what stupid shit they got up to. You were never sure and you were always cleaning up their messes. They practically feed off each other and lose brain cells simply by being around the other. A stupid Hufflepuff isn't unheard of but goodness they surprised you sometimes. So smart yet so, so stupid.

The two of you sat on the loveseat in front of the fire, you dropped your shoes to the side, allowing you to pull your knees to your chest. “Do you think Sebastian and that hufflepuff are going to put their names in… you know,” you whisper, almost scared of it.

Ominis thinks for a moment. “Sebastian? Absolutely… I’m not sure about them though. They've mentioned lately that they're tired of being in the spotlight.” He thinks again “Are you going to?”

You think again about young Ominis. Full cheeks and hand me down robes. You think about how sad he was speaking of what could've been if his life had been different, if they had stronger magic. In the young man before you, you see the small boy again. He's grown into his robes (you lent him the money for new ones this year) and his power. He grew out of his family though, and for that you’re proud of him. Your chest swells and you feel honoured to call him your friend. “I think I will.”