Chapter Text
“You failed to mention our trip to Hogsmeade would include the new fifth year,” Ominis said, not even attempting to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
“Play nice, Ominis. Your friend circle could stand to expand beyond me,” Sebastian replied. “Besides, Professor Weasley herself asked me to show her the way. If anything, you’re the gooseberry.”
Ominous scoffed, but did not rise to the taunt. They both knew he could simply choose to walk to Hogsmeade on his own. If he was so inclined, which he happened to not be–not that he’d let Sebastian know that. The hallways teemed with gossip about the new fifth year, and he’d confess himself curious. Most of his fellow classmates might be useless receptacles of idle chat and inane, hormone-addled whispers, but he suspected, just this once, the rumors might be substantiated.
The behavior from their professors certainly lended a certain credence to the story that Hogwarts’s newest Hufflepuff had narrowly escaped the jaws of a dragon en route to the Sorting Ceremony. That, and as she had passed the Slytherin table last night, he’d been able to smell the dragon’s fire on her robes and in her hair.
“Well, fancy meeting you here,” Sebastian called.
“Hello, Sebastian!”
“Ah, my new charge,” his friend purred. “I’m told you’re in dire need of supplies and I’m to accompany you into Hogsmeade for them. Is this your first foray into the village?”
“It is! I haven’t left the castle since I arrived.”
Her name was Dorothy Astor. This wasn’t his first time being in her presence. Ominis had been there, lurking in the back of class, when she’d knocked Sebastian off the dueling platform in defense earlier that morning (and what a glorious morning that had been), but they’d not properly met.
He held out his hand, knowing if he didn’t introduce himself Sebastian would no doubt forget in the midst of his flirting. “Ominis Gaunt. I’m Sebastian’s common sense.”
Warm fingers enfolded his. Her handshake, in contrast to her hands, was firm. “A pleasure to finally meet Sebastian’s common sense. You were mysteriously absent this morning before class when he almost dropped a dragon skull on another student. I’m Dorothy.”
“It wasn’t just another student, it was Leander Prewett,” Sebastian grumbled, sounding put-out. “I’m going to regret bringing you along, aren’t I, Ominis? Shall we, Dorothy?”
The castle door swung open, and Ominis breathed in deep the fresh air. It carried the lingering warmth of summer, and the distinct smell of the Scottish Highlands’s native heather. Next to him, he heard Dorothy’s breath hitch.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Ominis wasn’t sure he’d been meant to hear that comment, so he kept quiet. He lifted his wand and let his magic guide his feet towards the castle’s south exit. Sebastian and Dorothy trailed a few steps behind him, but he kept a sharp ear on their conversation nonetheless.
“I was glad Professor Weasley asked you to join me today,” Sebastian said conversationally.
“As am I. Thank you, by the way.”
Ominis didn’t need functioning eyes to know that Sebastian was preening at the perceived praise. “Of course! You’re the only one who’s ever bested me in a duel. The way I see it, I’d best keep an eye on you.”
Amongst other body parts , Ominis thought, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Sebastian could be incredibly charming when he wanted to be. It would normally be rather annoying, but Sebastian's mood had not been inclined towards charm recently. He’d been short-tempered all summer, picking fights with Solomon, with Ominis himself, with Anne, even, if their bad moods happened to coincide. Perhaps being away from home had improved his mood. Or perhaps Dorothy was pretty . Ominis obviously would not be able to confirm or deny such a thing, but Sebastian’s spirits were high in a way they hadn’t been in awhile and Ominis would stick to being grateful for the time being.
“Honestly, I’m still surprised Professor Weasley entrusted you with any task, let alone accompanying our new, impressionable classmate to Hogsmeade given your lengthy detention record,” Ominis spoke up.
“Oh? Spend a lot of time in detention, do you, Sebastian?” Dorothy teased.
“Just enough to keep me well-rounded. Speaking of detention. This trip to Hogsmeade might have saved me one!”
They crossed over the bridge into Hogwarts’s southern most region. Here, the scent of heather was even stronger. Ominis relaxed his shoulders, enjoying the sounds of the river rushing below their feet and the spray of cool water from the waterfall as they passed.
Dorothy laughed, and it was a delightfully musical sound. “Glad I could be of service.”
“Madame Scribner, the librarian, was on the hunt for me, as is often the case,” Sebastian said, managing to sound proud of this. “Professor Weasley came to retrieve me and was able to convince ol’ Scribner that I had somewhere to be.”
“How does one manage to get on a librarian’s bad side?” she inquired.
“Well, I suspect it’s a matter of differing opinions.”
Ominis could not contain a snort. The path beneath his feet turned from cobblestone to rutted dirt. They’d left the school grounds. “Yes, differing opinions .”
“See, Dorothy, she thinks I shouldn’t be allowed in the restricted section, and I am inclined to disagree.”
That was a rather simplified way of putting a series of detentions and docked points that was quickly careening towards suspension at the very least if Sebastian wasn’t careful, but Ominis refrained from commenting further. The thing about Sebastian was that he tended not to listen to good advice. He’d sooner ram his head into a brick wall to confirm what it was then listen to the world's leading expert in brick wall identification. And he’d do it repeatedly if you tried to tell him it was a bad idea.
“Oh, just one moment.”
Sebastian’s footsteps came to a halt, and Ominis paused as well, taking a moment to discern what had caught his friend’s attention. They were standing next to a patch of honking daffodils. Ominis was not particularly fond of the boisterous plant, but beneath their incessant honks, he heard a distinct flittering.
“This is an excellent spot to gather lacewing flies,” Sebastian said. “They’re pretty to look at, but if you stew them long enough they make a powerful potion ingredient. There are a lot of potions ingredients to be found around here if you know where to look. Cheaper to gather them yourself then buy them from J. Pippins.”
“As long as you can tell the difference between Queen Anne’s lace and hemlock,” Ominis said dryly.
“Sounds like there’s a story there.”
“You’ll understand when you have a potions class with Garreth Weasley,” was Sebastian’s cryptic reply.
Ominis did not feel like reliving that particular incident either. They pressed on. As they passed the entrance to the Forbidden Forest there was a loud, rolling rumble. “Merlin’s Beard!” Sebastian exclaimed above the disgruntled squawking and cawing of the forest’s inhabitants fleeing from whatever had made the ominous sound. “From the Forbidden Forest, look!”
“What is it?” Ominis asked, curiosity piqued.
“Hippogryphs!” his friend supplied, both for his and Dorothy’s edification. “Quite a sight, isn’t it? You certainly don’t see that every day.”
The hippogryphs flew over their heads, their wings beating the air in powerful strokes. “Oh, they’re beautiful,” Dorothy said, voice hushed in awe. “I’ve never seen anything like them!”
“Are you muggle-raised?” Sebastian asked.
She hummed. “I think I might have had magical parents. I remember seeing magic when I was little, but Professor Fig suspects they might have given me up when I showed no signs of having magic myself. I grew up in muggle London.”
“That’s despicable,” Sebastian said stiffly. “They must have been purebloods. Well, jokes on them. You’ve plenty of magic now, and you certainly know how to use it.”
Ominis pressed his lips together, feeling a seed of anger on Dorothy’s behalf himself, though he couldn’t help but think, if her parents had been pureblood, giving her up had been a kindness on their part. He knew a thing or two about how pureblood parents treat children who come out of the womb lacking.
“Ah! You can see Hogsmeade just past those ruins up ahead,” Sebastian said, deftly changing the subject. “Have you had much of a chance to explore the castle?”
“A little,” Dorothy answered. “It’s positively enormous!”
Sebastian chuckled. “It is that. I’ve been there for five years and barely scratched the surface. Loads to see. Places to discover.”
“Anything you’d like to share with the class?”
“Perhaps one day,” Sebastian said coyly. “I can’t go around telling you all my secrets now can I? You still haven’t told me how you became so good at dueling.”
Up ahead on the path, a cart was rattling in their direction. Ominis only caught a whiff of bergamot as warning before Dorothy’s hesitant fingers brushed against his arm, drawing him further to the side of the path. She didn’t say anything, and her gentle touch was gone as quickly as it had come. The cart rolled past them, and Ominis was oddly warmed by her unnecessary concern. Typically, he did not like when strangers attempted to ‘guide’ him, but Dorothy’s gesture had been just self-effacing enough so as not to be offensive.
“I’ve always thought Thestrals pulling a carriage a bit grim,” Sebastian commented. “Though I suppose most people don’t actually see them at all.”
“But you can see them?” Dorothy queried, sounding saddened but remaining respectful. She was close enough to Ominis now that he could definitely smell bergamot. It must be whatever product she used in her hair.
“Unfortunately… but you’ve seen quite a bit yourself first-hand too–most notably that dragon attack,” Sebastian said, clearly fishing.
“ Sebastian ,” Ominis said, voice low in warning.
His thick-headed friend huffed. “Oh, all right. Well, hopefully the rest of your year isn’t as eventful. Oh, look, it’s Mr. Moon. He’s the Hogwarts caretaker… looks a bit worse for wear,” he murmured just between the three of them, before calling out, “Hello Mr. Moon! Have you met our new fifth-year?”
“Pleasure,” came Mr. Moon’s gruff voice. Ominis wrinkled his nose. He could smell the firewhiskey on the caretaker's clothes and breath, and he doubted he was the only one. “You might want to turn back Mr. Sallow. Turn and–” he hiccuped. “Run.”
“Is everything all right, sir?”
“Oh, it looked right at me!” Mr. Moon moaned. “Eyes big as saucers!”
Sebastian’s voice was tinged with amusement. “What did, Mr. Moon?”
“Demi- hic -guise. Ugly and hairy and terrifying . I shall be at the castle where it is safe. Good luck to the three of you.” With that, Mr. Moon began stumbling back in the direction of the castle, footfalls uneven on the already uneven path.
“A demiguise!” Sebastian repeated. He was definitely holding back laughter now. “I don’t know what he’s putting in his pumpkin juice, but he’s obviously had too much of it. I’ve never seen Mr. Moon in such a state.”
“I hope he makes it back to the castle alright,” Dorothy said, just proving she was a Hufflepuff if she hadn’t already. “What is a demiguise anyway?”
“It’s a magical beast. I’ve been told it’s similar in appearance to an ape,” Ominis supplied. “But, they’re peaceful herbivores, and they certainly aren’t native to Scotland. I’ve no idea why Mr. Moon thinks he saw one in Hogsmeade of all places.”
“Nor why he’d find one so terrifying,” Sebastian added. “Mr. Moon is quite the character. My sister Anne thinks he’s lovely, but I’d say he could improve a bit as a caretaker.”
“Oh, is your sister in Slytherin too?” Dorothy asked innocently.
Ominis winced. Asking about Anne could go in one of two very distinct directions. Leander Prewett had mouthed off to Sebastian this morning and discovered one such direction himself. Fortunately, Sebastian was in a better mood right then. “She is–or rather, she was . She’s not well at the moment, but she’ll be better soon and back in Hogwarts.”
“I look forward to meeting her!” Dorothy said, oblivious to the pit that had opened in Ominis’s stomach at Sebastian’s rather liberal twisting of the truth.
They crossed over the covered bridge and into Hogsmeade. The village was alive in an entirely different way than the surrounding highlands. It was a veritable hive of noise and smells, a twisting labyrinth to the uninitiated, but Ominis could navigate the alleys and streets like he was walking in his own common room.
“Honestly, if one could bottle the magic of this place. I don’t know if it’s the shops or the people, but there’s just something about Hogsmeade. We all flock to it like moths to a flame,” Sebastian said. “So, how would you like to do this? Weasley told me you had a list of things to get– a wand and some other bits?”
“...yes,” Dorothy answered, breathless and distracted. Ominis imagined she wasn’t even looking at Sebastian as she spoke, so taken by the magic of the village. “I lost all my books and other supplies in the attack.”
“Perfect. I can’t wait to see what you do with a new wand. I just have to pop into a shop to find something for my sister. Ominis can take over as your guide. Let’s meet up in the town center when you’re finished.”
Ominis frowned in Sebastian’s direction, suspicious about this supposed errand combined with the too casual way he’d spoken of Anne’s illness.
“If it isn’t a bother,” Dorothy said, sounding unsure.
“It’s no bother to me,” Ominis agreed. “The two of us will be far more productive without Sebastian’s influence anyway.”
“Ominis, old chap, you wound me. Well, best be off. Remember to have fun, you two. It’s Hogsmeade!” Sebastian then darted off, footsteps sure, and quickly getting lost in the ambient noise of the busy village.
He sighed, hoping his friend didn’t get himself into too much trouble, but knowing it was probably inevitable. Pedestrian traffic picked up suddenly. Dorothy stepped closer to Ominis so as not to get swept away by a group of particularly excited students and, without thinking, he offered her his right arm.
Dorothy laughed and delicately looped her arm through his. There was still a bit of space between their bodies, as was only proper. “And they say chivalry is past!” she mused playfully.
“And where precisely am I escorting my lady this fine afternoon?” he teased back.
“Well, I’m most excited to get my own wand,” she said.
“To Olivander’s, then.”
They made quick work of her list. Ominis would politely browse each shop as she went about her business, and then escort her on his arm as they went from vendor to vendor. She was very undemanding company. That was not to say she was dull–quite the opposite actually–just that she was easy to talk to. Their conversation ebbed and flowed naturally, never feeling strained as small-talk with a new acquaintance often did.
“Ominis,” Dorothy said as they paused on the bridge leading back into Hogsmeade proper. The Magic Neep had been their last stop. “I wanted to apologize. Earlier, when I pulled you to the side of the road, I realize that might have been extremely presumptuous of me. You can clearly make your own way, I just wasn’t sure you’d be able to sense the Thestrals.”
Her genuine apology surprised him. “Apology accepted. For the record, Thestrals can still be felt and heard by those who haven’t seen death. Even if they couldn’t, I’d have still been able to,” he told her honestly. “And, I didn’t mind. You’ve been much more tactful than most people when they first meet me. Most can’t keep their questions or suggestions to themselves.”
“I imagine that would get to be irritating,” she said airily.
“Quite,” he agreed.
They really should be getting back to Sebastian, but the afternoon was too pleasant to not linger outdoors. Ominis leaned his weight forward onto the stone parapet and breathed in the unique scent of Hogsmeade; the air was artificially sweet—anyone who walked through the streets would be very intentionally lured to Honeydukes—and a hint smokey from all the smokestacks and various explosions coming from Zonkos. Right next to the Magic Neep the air was saturated with various florals, but Dorothy’s bergamot scent stood out to him prominently.
“I imagine the way you experience the world is different, but equally beautiful. Sight is only one of the senses, and not even necessarily the most discerning.”
“Many people don’t see it that way.”
“Ironically, many people are short-sighted,” Dorothy said wryly. “I bet there are a lot of things you can 'see' right now that I’m completely oblivious too.”
Ominis was quiet for a thoughtful second. He’d only ever taken to one other person as quickly, but his friendship with Sebastian was very different than the one he felt forming with the young witch standing next to him. “Close your eyes,” he told her.
“Okay,” she said without hesitating. “Now what?”
“The sun is out right now, you can feel its warmth on your skin, but there will be a thunderstorm later. The wind carries the scent long before the clouds roll in. Pay close attention. It’s musky and sharp, just beneath the smoke and chocolate.”
He heard her inhale deeply.
“There are certain dark witches and wizards, they call themselves Ashwinders. Unfortunately, the hamlets are being overrun with them right now. They are thugs,” he said bitterly, “but they specialize in a magical attack based on lightning. It can be hard to predict, but you can always smell the magic before you see it. And if you see it, it's generally too late.”
“That’s amazing,” Dorothy said.
Ominis felt heat rise in his cheeks, and quickly turned his head. “It’s nothing,” he murmured. “Come, Sebastian is probably getting impatient.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that.”
He offered his arm once again, and they began walking towards town center in a companionable silence. If Dorothy was pressed slightly closer to Ominis then what was typically considered proper, it was surely the fault of the crowded streets.
“I officially have all my supplies!” she crowed when they found Sebastian.
“Excellent,” Sebastian said, and Ominis could feel his friend’s gaze burning into where he and Dorothy were still arm in arm.
“Did you get what you needed for your sister?”
“I did. So I suppose the world is our oyster now. Let’s see what else we can get up to.”
Ominis felt the ground tremble before he heard the thunderous footsteps and heavy, metallic clanking of something enormous and armored approaching the center of town. It was the wretched smell that gave it away. “Troll!” he shouted in warning, a second before the lumbering, barely sentient mountain of muscle and magic resistant skin crashed through the river and into the village.
People began screaming.
Dorothy let go of his arm, presumably to make pertinent use of her newly acquired wand, and Ominis gripped his own tightly. The troll’s subsequent bellow was nearly deafening, but Ominis could still make out the sounds of spellfire beginning to pick up as Hogsmeade’s residents overcame their shock.
“Confringo!” Sebastian cried out.
Ominis felt a great whoosh of air as the troll raised its club above its head, but before it could kill them on the downswing, a loud, female voice shouted, “ Bombarda!”
The explosive spell must have hit its target because the troll howled angrily, and quickly forgot about the three of them.
“Draw it away from the buildings! Away from the village!” the same voice ordered.
Ominis’s ears were ringing and he only had one second to feel relief that the troll was being dealt with by witches and wizards more competent than school children before another came crashing through a building.
He winced as rubble sprayed against his face and instinctively dove to the side. Just in the nick of time too; he felt the cobblestone where he’d been standing just a second before shatter under the brute force of the troll’s club. By the time he rolled back to his feet, Dorothy and Sebastian were both casting.
“Are we weakening him at all?” Dorothy shouted.
“Keep at it!” Sebastian barked. “We’ll wear him down eventually!”
Ominis threw his wand into the ring as well. Between the two of them, Sebastian had always been the superior dueler, but Ominis was deceptively proficient. The world narrowed down to the fight as he attuned his every sense to it.
Crash! Something solid slammed into the troll and burst on impact. It hadn’t been a spell but it was certainly effective if the troll’s pained roar was any indication.
“What was that?!” Sebastian cried out in delighted surprise.
“A taste of its own medicine!”
“Brilliant– look out!”
Whatever Dorothy had done had made her a tantalizing target. The clamor of the troll furiously beating the ground with its club rattled in Ominis’s bones and shook his teeth. “Sebastian, draw it off her! Whatever you’re doing Dorothy, keep at it!”
They led the troll in a dangerous waltz. Dorothy would slam it with a barrage of what Ominis suspected was nearby rubble, then he and Sebastian would jump in and pelt it with spellfire, giving Dorothy a second to breathe and get into a better position before the cycle would start again. Slowly, but surely, they were wearing down its defenses.
“That’s right, you lumbering lout!” Sebastian taunted
“He's faltering!” Dorothy called out.
What happened next… Ominis could not see , but regardless of this fact, he was still blinded. Instead of hurling debris again, Dorothy did something else, something Ominis did not have the vocabulary to describe. One moment the troll was a tangible presence, and the next it was gone, as if she’d simply erased it from existence in one aweing display of magic so dazzling he was briefly overwhelmed by it.
He blinked hard, shoulders heaving as he got his breathing back under control.
“Goodness! A second troll!” the woman from earlier exclaimed. They must have only just gotten the first one contained. “Did you three take on a fully grown troll, by yourselves? ”
“I suppose so,” Dorothy answered for them, sounding as exhausted as Ominis felt. “It’s all a bit of a blur, to be honest.”
“Merlin’s beard! Are you all right?”
Ominis could only take stock of himself, and honestly, aside from a few scrapes and bruises, he was unscathed. He didn’t think Dorothy or Sebastian were any worse off, and was relieved to have it confirmed when Dorothy said, “We are. And we were glad to help.”
“I’d say help was a bit of an understatement. Nerve like that? The makings of an auror, if you ask me,” the woman mused. “Well, you look alright in any case. Still, it would bring me peace of mind to have a mediwitch sign off. Take yourselves by the hospital wing when you return to school, would you?”
“Of course, Officer…?”
“Singer,” the woman supplied. “Officer Singer. And thank you, again.” And with a distinctive crack, she apparated away.
“Well, I don’t know about you both, but I don’t plan on spending my evening in the hospital wing,” Sebastian said after a beat of silence. “I’d say we earned a butterbeer or two. Might help me forget that I was almost pulverized by a troll.”
“Well, I suppose we could visit the hospital wing after a butterbeer,” Dorothy said, sounding a bit torn over the thought of disobeying an auror.
“I wouldn’t say no to a butterbeer,” Ominis added.
“Perfect. Three Broomsticks is just this way.”
The village began to settle back into its normal cadence and rhythm. Ominis heard its hale and hearty residents complaining about the ‘inconvenience’ of the troll attack as they walked and knew Hogsmeade would be just fine.
“Assuming it isn’t utter bedlam in there, you might even meet Sirona, the owner. She’s a good one to–Dorothy, what -?”
Dorothy shushed Sebastian, veering off from the path. Trusting her instincts, he and Sebasian quietly crept after her. Ominis hadn’t the faintest clue what had caught her attention until he heard a grown, male voice growl, “You said you could get to the child when they came to Hogsmeade. That all you needed was a distraction. I gave you a distraction!”
Sebastian pushed against his shoulder until Ominis was flush against the wall between his two friends. He’d thought his heart had been beating hard before when the troll attacked, but it was positively pounding against his ribcage now as they eavesdropped on this conversation.
“I just watched a student take down your distraction!” another voice spoke. This one Ominis recognized. Rookwood . “Who is this girl? What aren’t you telling me?”
“All you need to know is that if you cannot get to the child, then you have no value to me,” the first voice threatened.
“Let’s go!” Dorothy hissed. She grabbed Ominis’s and Sebastian’s hands, and they both stumbled as she dragged them out of their hiding spot and back onto the path.
“Did they see us?” Sebastian worried.
“I don’t think so,” Dorothy answered distractedly.
“What was that goblin doing with Victor Rookwood?”
“ Goblin? ” Ominis repeated in a daze. That must have been the first voice.
Dorothy did not answer. She muttered to herself, “Ranrok is working with Rookwood?”
“The goblin from the daily prophet?” Sebastian said. “I knew I’d seen him somewhere!” Something must have caught his eye then, because his breath hitched and he rushed to say. “Quickly! Let’s get inside the Three Broomsticks!”
They burst into the tavern, their harried entrance not out of place amongst the still settling chaos. Ominis did not even begin to relax until they were seated at the familiar bar and Sirona’s warm voice was saying, “Now, what can I–? Oh, now there’s a face I haven’t seen before.”
Dorothy laughed nervously. “It’s my first time here.”
“Welcome. Butterbeers on me.” A few tankards clicked as Sirona made good on her offer. A cool butterbeer was pressed into Ominis’s hands, and he clutched it like a lifeline. “Heard about the attack,” Sirona said conversationally. “I shall be looking in on the other shopkeepers and residents shortly. Glad to see you three escaped injury.”
“Thanks to this one!” Sebastian’s butterbeer sloshed against the sides of his tankard as he raised it high in cheers. “Single-handedly took down a troll!”
“Is that right? Well done.”
“Don’t get modest on me now, Sebastian,” Dorothy said quickly, clearly abashed. “It was a team effort. If it hadn’t been for you and Ominis doing the dirty work and distracting it I’m sure I would have been squashed in seconds! Thanks, for this, by the way.”
“My pleasure,” Sirona said. She sighed. “I will say, trolls in Hogsmeade? That’s never happened before… something’s not right.”
Dorothy squirmed uncomfortably.
“The only brutes we usually have to deal with are–” Sirona was cut off when the doors swung open forcefully. She exhaled sharply, and Ominis heard her step out from behind the bar. Irritation rang out clearly in the weight of her footsteps. “How timely .”
“Was that Lodgok I saw leaving just now?” came Rookwood’s sneering voice. “Your clientele’s not what it used to be, Sirona.”
Next to him, Dorothy was as rigid. The tension radiated off her, and he felt Sebastian reach across him to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly.
“Not to worry, Victor. Once the two of you leave, the caliber of my clientele will greatly improve… I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Theophilus.”
“Come now, no need for theatrics. I’m only here for this one anyway.”
The tension in the tavern ratcheted up another notch, and even a blind man could tell who Rookwood was pointing to. Dorothy surged to her feet, and Omins was quick to follow. The rush of adrenaline singing in his veins was a familiar feeling now, and he slipped his hand into his pocket, prepared to draw his wand.
“My friend is enjoying a well-earned butterbeer,” Sirona said steadily.
“I only want a quick word.”
Chairs scraped and floorboards squealed as what seemed like every patron in the Three Broomsticks got to their feet. Ominis’s shoulder knocked into Sebastian’s as they both stepped in front of Dorothy simultaneously.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I said my friend is busy.”
Rookwood was quiet for a moment, taking stock of the situation. It would not be worth it, trying to take Dorothy by force just then, and he had to know it. “One would think you’d all had enough bloodshed for one day,” he probed, but no one backed down. “Come, Theophilus. The Three Broomsticks isn’t what it used to be. Let’s take our galleons elsewhere.” Ominis stiffened when he felt Rookwood’s hungry gaze fall just over his shoulder. “Can’t drink butterbeer forever…”
Ominis did not lower his wand until the door closed shut behind Rookwood.
“Seems you’ve made an unfortunate enemy,” Sirona murmured in Dorothy’s direction. “Watch your back. Rookwood and Harlow are worse than any troll you might encounter.”
It wasn’t until Sirona’s footsteps were suitably far enough away that Sebastian spoke. “Trolls, Ranrok, and Rookwood? What aren’t you telling us?”
There was a dull thud as Dorothy tiredly dropped her weight back against the bar. Her voice was low and furtive when she said, “I promise to tell you… just not here.”
Ominis burned with curiosity, but he knew the value of privacy. Sebastian did too. They came to a silent agreement, and headed for the door, butterbeers regretfully unfinished. The sun had set while they were in the Three Broomsticks. Chirping crickets and hooting owls had replaced that afternoon’s birdsong. The temperature had dropped with the sun, and they huddled together like a clowder of kneazles.
“I’m certainly glad Sirona was there. Told you she was one of the good ones,” Sebastian said. He bumped Dorothy’s shoulder, causing Dorothy to bump into Ominis.
“I can see that. She didn’t seem at all intimidated by Rookwood and Harlow.”
“We should return to the castle. Professor Weasley’s certain to hear about the troll attack soon, if she hasn’t already. Don’t want to risk another detention for getting back after hours.”
Ominis’s feet ached at the mere thought of walking all the way back to the castle after the day they’d had. “I propose we use the nearest floo,” he said.
“I knew you were the brains of this operation, Ominis,” Sebastian teased.
“That makes Dorothy the brawn.” He tilted his head consideringly in Sebastian’s direction. “What’s left for you then exactly?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m the pretty face.”
Dorothy laughed. The sound was just this side of manic, and he suspected she was simply too relieved to reign in her emotions. Still, her mirth was contagious, and he found himself chuckling too. Sebastian, who was unsurprisingly very susceptible to rippling laughter, joined in next. They probably made quite the sight, standing just outside the Three Broomsticks, disheveled and cackling like their butterbeers had been laced with gigglewater.
The day had not turned out anything like Ominis had expected, but he supposed the outcome was tolerable. Perhaps Sebastian had been right. His circle of friends could stand to expand to accommodate one more… as long as that one more was a certain impossible Hufflepuff.