Work Text:
The boy’s baths finally grow silent nearly an hour and a half after the morning rush, nearly every boy in Slytherin wanting to finish their morning pampering to rush to the Great Hall while the proverbial iron is hot and the food is freshest. It's something Sebastian had anticipated when he saw the sheer number of boys seated at Slytherin's grand table with perfectly coiffed hair the night prior. It seemed pomade was as much loved in Hogwarts as it was amongst muggles, reminded of when his father had brought home a little tin from his latest trip to London and declared it a "miracle of muggle innovation". It seemed silly to Sebastian, to hold something as mundane as a product to keep your hair out of your eyes in such high regard. But, he reasons, if so many of the boys at Hogwarts insisted on using it there must be something to his father's words.
The bath is blessedly empty when he enters, having been certain he would have to deal with a few quiet stragglers while trying to take his morning bath. He does have the make the compromise of using one of the bathtubs after another had used it (unfortunately having to brush a small tuft of hair that looked like it had come from a dog and not a human down the drain in the process). Despite this compromise, he finds having a bath incredibly comforting on his very first morning away from home. Normally at this time his mother would be rousing him from slumber, a plate of sausage, beans, and toast waiting for him downstairs. He wonders if she does the same now that he and Anne have begun at Hogwarts, or if she and his father are having a lean breakfast and missing their children. It's a heavy weight on his heart to imagine what his parents are doing on this fine morning of September 2nd. Are they mourning the loss of their twins' childhood? Are they explaining to Haggis, their ruddy old dog, why he and Anne are not going to come rushing down the steps? Knowing his mother, Sebastian would likely be receiving an owl later that evening despite having said her tearful farewells at the station only yesterday morning. A part of Sebastian imagines it would be embarrassing to receive such a letter so quickly after branching away from their family home for the first time.
Another part knows he will cherish it.
Sebastian lingers in the bath as long as he dares, feeling like a boy "reborn" as he steps out of the cooled water. It feels akin to washing off his life in Cambridge, becoming a bit closer to a man than the little boy who relied on his mother for most things. Or, at least, as much of a man as an eleven year old could be. He dries himself off rather quickly and dresses for the day ahead, smoothing the wrinkles of his shirt and trying his damnedest to comb his unruly hair in a way that will tame it when it dries. He steps out of the baths when it comes time to put his tie on, humming softly to himself.
When Sebastian turns to the mirrors, he realizes he is not alone.
A boy in his year stands with his hands poised above his head, globs of pomade stuck to his fingers like glue. His hair is a mess, flattened and plastered to his head and sticking out in a few spots that make Sebastian a little impressed. A comb sits on the counter, also coated in a thick layer of pomade. The sight very nearly makes Sebastian laugh, stepping closer to take a nearby mirror.
"Going a little heavy with the pomade today, mate?" The boy frowns, but doesn't turn towards him. Sebastian watches his hands fall a little from where he's trying to salvage the mess on his head, that frown growing deeper. He tries to turn his attention back to tying his tie, but he can't help but let his gaze linger on the boy. Each movement he makes feels awkward , like he's unaccustomed to how low his arms are or how to properly move his fingers. He's struggling, clearly, but Sebastian cannot find the true cause until he glances at the boy's face in the mirror.
What greets him are unseeing eyes, looking a little teary with how frustrated he must be.
Sympathy pangs in Sebastian's chest, his hands paused over the green striped fabric of his tie. He hesitates, wondering if it would be overly pitious of him to offer help to this boy. Sebastian didn't want to seem like he was disrespecting him, especially not when he's certain the boy is brimming with frustration and embarrassment for him even making a joke like he had. He stubbornly tries to keep to himself, only glancing at the boy out of his peripheral once more when a heavy sigh heaves from his lips.
"I look like quite the git, don't I?" The boy brings his hands down to follow the contours of the sink, finding the tap and turning it on to wash his hands. Sebastian shakes his head without thinking, clearing his throat to stop himself for apologizing for the accidental slight.
"A bit, yeah." The boy's face sours further, angrily flicking the water from his hands and into the basin. Sebastian's fingers fiddle with the silk tie in his hands, one of his nails digging into the seam lightly. The boy mutters to himself as he ducks his head into the basin, allowing the water to wash away the thick grease of the pomade.
"If you'd like, I could help." The boy pauses his self loathing, an ear turning towards where Sebastian stands. He reaches up to turn the water off, feeling around the counter for his towel. The silence Sebastian found comforting only a few minutes prior felt suffocating as he watched his fellow Slytherin towel dry his hair, standing stark still like he'd been touched by a Gorgon.
"Who are you?" The boy says at last, one of his pristinely maintained brows cocking with his question.
"Name's Sebastian. Sebastian Sallow." He takes a cautious step closer as if he's approaching the cage of lions at the London Zoo. "First year, and you?"
"Ominis, Ominis Gaunt." He holds out a hand for a proper shake and Sebastian hurries to meet it, unsurprised by the chill of his damp touch. Ominis considers Sebastian for a moment, teasing the weight of Sebastian's hand in his own before he releases him. "Alright, Sebastian Sallow. Pray tell; why would you want to help me?"
"Uh," what a strange question, one Sebastian doesn't know the correct answer to, "well I just…I know how important first impressions are and all that. And I know I wouldn't want to walk into my very first class at Hogwarts looking like an arse." Ominis frowns at the callous language, one of his hands coming to rest on the counter.
"And I would be in your debt?" That makes Sebastian's eyes grow wide, a frown of his own appearing.
"Godrick's heart, no. Not for something so simple as helping you pomade your hair in a way that doesn't look shit." Ominis is very obviously incredulous at this answer, a conflict written across his features as he considers the offer.
"And you're certain it's not a kind gesture masked as such so you may find favor with my family?" His family? What in Merlin's name did that have to do with anything? An indignant snort leaves Sebastian, reaching over to clap a hand on Ominis' shoulder.
"I have no reason to find favor with your family, Ominis. I'm not even sure why I would be attempting to find favor." There's an overwhelming softness that takes over Ominis at his words, the edge of righteous irritation gone from his features. Was this something he was used to? People being kind to him just to get in with the Gaunt family (whomever they were, Sebastian couldn't be arsed to remember all the Sacred whatever-the-number-is). Ominis stands a little straighter, looking like he's finally experienced the warmth of the sun for the first time in his life with the way his stance changes from the guarded boy from before.
"I…yes. I would appreciate your help, Sebastian." Sebastian smiles, picking up the comb from the counter and quickly washing it as well, giving himself a clean slate to start with.
"You were using way too much of this stuff, mate. A little goes a long way. You looked a bit like you ran into a troll with a cold with the way the globs looked like bogeys ." That draws a genuine smile and laughter from Ominis, making Sebastian realize he has the truly contagious kind when he himself laughs too.
Regrettably Sebastian misses his first breakfast away from his parents, but he finds himself unable to regret the friendship he sparked in the boy's baths.