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A voluptuous selection of foods was served in the Great Hall three times a day, treats in between (if you begged an elf.) Each table, no matter what house you came from, got crammed and emptied quickly. Honeyed, glowing hams. Steamed, buttery potatoes. Crispy, sweet, pie crusts and fluffy puddings galore. They were always full, even in their sleep.
“Really considering breaking into Hogwarts, again,”
“Do you want to risk expulsion, ‘again?’” Ominis said. “Stop considering it.”
Sweet, warm, golden hams. Potatoes whipped to cloud fluffiness, and puddings that flowed like rivers. Pies and cakes, tarts and quiches. Fried, boiled, and deviled eggs galore. In pajamas, rich hot chocolate decorated with whipped cream. The Great Hall provided any savory treat or sweet a student could dream of. No matter your house, either, you were fed warmth.
Sebastian sent a wordless spark from the end of his wand to the dying embers of pine. It breathed suddenly, hopefully.
Ominis didn’t know whether it was ‘confringo’ or ‘inferno.’ He didn’t dare ask. The dying log’s skin chipped under Ominis’ outgrown nails, the sounds of scrapes marking his self-made distraction. The other boy was leaned back, hands on the moist dirt or palms up to the fire – either as a show of pride or need.
“D’you think,” Sebastian blurted much too suddenly, “D’you think it would’ve been better if the sun stayed out at night?”
“What? Better as in ... ?”
“As in warmer. Like, a warm blanket that was not humid, but made you feel tired enough to sleep anywhere. Would you prefer that over cold nights?”
It was a weird question. Ominis spared only a few seconds of thought, before deciding his answer. “I quite like the cold. So no.”
Comfort was found everywhere in stony Hogwarts. The floor was toasted by windows’ filters of warm sun, hitting the walls and halls just right to soothe a student’s skin. Whenever it rained or snowed, knitted blankets and scarfs were made in a blink and wrapped with caution. Owls hummed, and ‘cooes’ filtered through the chunky walls that hugged each mind – spells of protection included. It was a cocoon. One that relied on gentle bells and homework deadlines to wake anyone from their ‘perfect sleep.’
A breeze brushed the tops of their hairs, and the fire wavered. The boys shivered in unison, Sebastian the only one able to see it.
“I think you’re lying. Everyone likes warmth, it’s human nature.”
“Sebastian. Why did you even ask then?”
“I don’t need a reason. But the reason is, anyway, it’d be better if the sun was always here. And food.”
“Oh don’t,”
“Do you also miss not having to pay for everything?”
“It’s just one summer. We’ll be fine.” Ominis said more to himself.
Only this summer. Maybe, if Sebastian got his feelings put, and they found a relative or friend who could let them stay, it would stay only one summer. Hopefully not two or three or even four of this. Hopefully-hopefully, it will become like it was.
Three smiles bursting with giggles and pokes made the Undercroft home. As well as all of Hogwarts’ nooks and crannies, with the help of night’s darkness, beckoning corridors, and daring rumors of secrets. During the day, they ate, spoke, and slept, but during the night they played.
“It’d also be better if we didn’t feel so sore. Don’t you think so, Ominis?”
“Yes.”
The fire continued to crackle and pop. Ominis’ face stayed pursed in a grimace, not able to settle off of his annoyance. Sebastian was fidgeting in his boots, mud caked and ties hoarse.
“You know,” Ominis began, to his own regret, “a lot of things would be better right now if you had listened to me.”
The other boy continued to fidget. Ominis now felt he needed to push for an answer, a response.
“If either of you had listened to me. You or –”
“You speak as if you’re any less guilty.”
Ominis’ mouth and eyes were wide. He could feel the coals of his lungs burn suddenly. His head swung in what he hoped was right towards Sebastian.
“How could I be??”
“You know, I look up to you Ominis,” Sebastian said suddenly, “Cause you act like you know everything. Or that you’ve done everything and know when or when not to or even how to commit curses. But you know just as little as me!
He continued, “We’re the same age, we’re both Slytherins, we’re both pureblooded boys, and yet you act like you’re above me because my outcome was worse than yours!”
“What are you talking about?!!”
“You’d save me if I were sick like Anne, I know you would!”
Ominis gasped out loud and stuttered in such a way his usually pale cheeks flared – more than they already were from the anger. But something else flared as well.
A sharp, sparkly feeling in his deep gut. In his throat, too. His heart especially. He hurt and felt floaty. And it was something he’d never felt at this intensity.
In the Halls of Hogwarts, students ate feasts, read classics, laughed, cried, and danced beneath a ceiling of stars. They were safe, secure, and warm, ready to tuck themselves into the sleepiness of their own mind. The comfort. The smooth wood.
Rough wood beneath his fingers. Moist, cold dirt caking their clothes. No sun nor stars to be seen from a roof of trees and branches, and a fire that once again was giving in to death. And the tingles of Ominis and Sebastian, who needed to prescribe this new feeling before anything else. This feeling, they knew, which was caused by Sebastian’s honesty to Ominis’ breaking point.
As uncomfortable as they felt, and angry, and nostalgic of home at Hogwarts, being stranded against a world with themselves to confront their issues and grow independently changed the “chess board” and its pieces.
Ominis gulped in his tingling face. Then, he felt his own bravery surfacing.
“Would you do it again?”
“In this place?”
That was all that needed to be said. ‘Yes,’ meant Sebastian, ‘of course I would,’ especially with how the world felt now.
Now they didn’t have a limit. Now, they didn’t have the walls of Hogwarts, the Gaunts, the Sallows, their new friend, house elves, gobelin acquaintances, centaur rebels, loyal owls, fellow Slytherins, or even Anne. All they had found, all they could rely on in these two months of discovery and dirt, is this feeling they share. This spark, this respect, this knowing.
The fire went out at last. Ominis was still warm, and it felt unusually human.