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Familiar long-eared owls swooped down and departed the abandoned cottage I’d claimed, most often bearing words commanding me to return home before my mother and father would report me missing to the Ministry. The heat of August begins to fade and the little birds I've seen fledge now take wing alongside their parents. I can’t return home now, and perhaps not ever. I indeed possess the courage to face down forest trolls, fanatical goblins, and dark wizards, but not my own mother in my current state. Even with an invisibility cloak or the loose lambswool cape I cleverly pinned closed, she would certainly discover the truth. Almost everything fits a bit tighter now. In another few months, buttoning my blouse will become an impossibility. How can I face my parents when I can barely admit it to myself? There’s a baby inside me.
What I hoped hadn’t happened happened. It was only one time, but that was all it took on a desolate mountain cliff where Sebastian and I took our brooms by moonlight, admiring ghostly thestrals from a distance on a night out of a fairytale. That’s where I gave myself to him, where we undressed each other naked as our entry into the world. I wanted that night to never end, locked in his embrace and feeling his warm kisses all over my skin. I wished to be with him always. Had I not wished that, would fate have unfolded differently, knowing I loved him most?
The aurors took him away from Hogwarts. That’s the last thing I know. Ominis told me Anne wanted Sebastian to answer for what he did, but I'm certain she regrets it now. It was love for his twin that drove Sebastian to Slytherin’s scriptorium and the relic, and love that drove him to unforgivable curses, but none of that could overcome Anne's curse. Even I, with my ability to see and wield ancient magic, could not help Anne without stripping her very ability to feel emotions. That I wouldn't do. It haunts me that if I chose differently, that nightmare in the catacombs would never have come to pass.
They won’t allow his owl in whatever cell holds him, and mine has returned thrice unanswered. My sweet tawny adores Sebastian only second to me, and I’m certain she could find him in a hurricane, but even she can’t locate him presently. The first letter was to simply ask how he fared, and the second, to tell him I desperately needed to hear his voice when I began to suspect a baby. The third would’ve let him know my intention to stay near Upper Hogsfield, but I can only assume he received none of my words.
A shrill screech rings out through the parting morning clouds, and I know it isn’t my tawny. This is a different owl, an amber and cream barn with a wise face. It circles the cottage a few times before swooping down delicately with care, dropping a white envelope close enough for me to hear it land in the grass before my feet. Wild rabbits that came to scavenge the old garden for planted vegetables flee back to their burrows as the barn owl rises above the trees again.
I recognize the soft, sensitive voice immediately as I open the letter, its enchantment reading itself aloud. "It’s been some time. I was passing through the valley on my way to Hogsmeade and found myself wondering if you’re nearby. It would be nice to catch up before September. Your friend, Ominis.”
I immediately bid my feathered companion to deliver my own response to Ominis. I haven’t spoken to anyone from Hogwarts besides Natty, Poppy, and Amit since summer began, though I don’t think they suspected anything amiss beneath the cloaks I constantly wear. I wouldn’t have to worry so much with Ominis. That lessened the danger.
~
My ventures to Hogsmeade have lessened of late. I do so miss the winding cobblestone streets, whimsical homes, and spending a meagre fortune at Honeydukes, but what if someone should discover my condition? They could and likely would tell my professors, who would undoubtedly tell my parents. Perhaps I would’ve been wise to visit J. Pippin’s two moons ago when my first missed cycle never came, but it was too late for such measures now. I felt a gentle fluttering begin in my abdomen a few nights past, and something changed within me. Is this a mother's love? Perhaps it is. This pregnancy is no longer some inconvenience or obstacle in my path. This is my baby I'm carrying. My own, and all I have left of Sebastian. I'm not so alone anymore. Lonely, yes, but not utterly alone.
Ominis and I have arranged to meet near the overlook just outside Hogsmeade, past the gardens and the green hedge dragon. Hardly anyone visits that balcony, though the view of Hogsmeade Station is positively charming from above. With pink blossoms cascading down from the trees, I spot Ominis seated debonairly upon a stone bench. I see a subtle smile rise on the corners of his lips, hinting that he’s heard me as I slow and dismount my broom near the balustrade.
“Ominis!” I call out. He’s no longer wearing the black-and-green robes of Slytherin, but a subtle blue smoking jacket and black wool trousers, quite elegant.
“It’s pleasing to hear your voice again,” he says as he stands, turning in my direction. He looks a little different, but I can’t quite put my finger on what.
“Have you gotten taller?” I ask curiously as I approach.
“I'm not sure. No one has mentioned it, if so,” he answers, touching his chest as he’s prone to do during explanations. He clutches something packaged in his left hand at his side, but I barely pay it any notice.
I realise he's indeed grown an inch or two in these last few months, myself sighing with relief at seeing him again. “It's been too long. I’ve missed you. May I… hug you, Ominis?,” I admit and carefully ask for permission, not wishing to startle him with sudden contact.
“Yes, of course. I’ve missed you, too,” he assures me, holding his arms out before me as I enter them softly. He smells clean, like pine needles, which I subtly inhale before I realise my midsection has nearly touched his.
As we let each other go, a lingering aroma of something sweet tickles my nose. It’s something juicy, scrumptious, and utterly delectable.
“I bought these for you. Mr. Redding knew exactly who it was for. You do like crystallised pineapple, don’t you?” Ominis asks, presenting me with a pretty green box striped in glimmering gold, bearing the seal of Honeydukes.
“Oh! My favourite!” I exclaim. I lift the box from his hands, my fingers grazing his own for a moment. “Thank you, Ominis. How lovely,” I gratefully tell him, almost ripping the box open in eagerness. The shimmering yellow slices and their sweet scent beckon my mouth to water already, so I pick one perfect piece of sugared pineapple and bite into it, its texture instantly melting on my tongue. Stars, I knew I’d been craving sweets, but didn’t realise how badly until now. I feel my little one start to flutter again, dancing in delight at a first taste of pineapple.
“I’m glad you like them. Now, if it pleases you, indulge me with your company,” Ominis requests, sitting down again on the bench. “How have you been since we left Hogwarts?” he asks.
I finish another piece of pineapple before answering on a more sombre note. “It’s been difficult, adjusting to the change of pace. Lonely. I haven’t gone home once,” I confess, seating myself.
“Why is that? I thought that business beneath Hogwarts was finished.”
“I still have a duty to protect it, but that’s not why I haven’t gone home,” I explain.
“Is it your family? Are they very like mine?” he asks.
Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt who cast Crucio on muggles for sport? Godric’s heart. “No, not like yours. I just can’t bring myself to leave yet,” I endeavour to explain without sharing too much. “Have you any news from Anne... or Sebastian?”
Ominis pauses, forming an answer. “Anne sent me a letter a month ago, still heartbroken as ever. She hasn't told me where she is, but she might've gone to stay with relatives on her mother's side. I can only hope the pain hasn't become constant. As for Sebastian, my father tells me he’s been sentenced.”
My breath catches in my throat with dread. “Sentenced? Can nothing be done in his defence? He’s not even a full-grown man,” I say in disbelief, recalling how afraid he was after Solomon fell dead. I’d never seen Sebastian with such fear. To be locked away in Azkaban with dementors and serial murderers doesn't seem like justice, not even for using the Killing Curse the way he did. Merlin, everything went wrong that terrible day.
“I don’t know. The Ministry likely wanted to make an example out of him. I warned Sebastian from the beginning there was a price to pay for meddling with the Dark Arts. I only wish he listened, but that was part of his charm, wasn’t it? Never knowing when to stop?” Ominis asked and exhaled defeatedly. “Hogwarts will never be the same without him. I’ve lost the closest friend I’ve ever had. Sebastian was like a brother to me. Even more than that.”
“Yes,” I agree, overcome with sadness. My hand cradled my abdomen secretly, aching with the idea that Sebastian would never, ever see his child, or perhaps children. It only seemed fitting that a twin might give me twins.
The hedge dragon snarled nearby and flapped its wings hastily at approaching footsteps, causing Ominis to turn his head to better hear whoever it was.
“Thought I saw you flying about!” a red-haired fellow announced from the garden path behind us.
“Garreth?” I call, as if I could possibly confuse him for someone else.
Once beside us, he glances to Ominis with that easy Weasley smile of his, then back to me. “Hope I’m not interrupting. It’s just that I’ve had enough time to perfect my Fizzing Whizz-beer over the summer,” Garreth explains, gesturing to the cast-iron mug he carried with a helpful lid. It looks exactly like a shrunken cauldron. Adorable.
“It hasn’t been brewing that long, has it?” I ask hesitantly as he hands it to me.
“Perish the thought! This is from my best batch yet. I thought you’d like to try it since you were such a help with… finding the right ingredients,” he explained slyly. “Unless you’d rather wait until Potions class…”
“No. I’m intrigued!” I say, lifting the lid.
“Brilliant!” he said, clasping his hands together and awaiting my reaction to his ambitious brew.
A fiery whiff of billywig stings instantly sickens my stomach and churns it like a draught of living death in the wrong direction. I slap my hand over my mouth so quickly that a few drops spill onto the ground. Just as I’m about to regale Garreth’s boots with formerly crystallised pineapple if this stench doesn’t immediately vanish, he deftly takes back the mug without spilling another drop.
“Oh dear. I suppose this one’s an acquired taste,” he says with discernable disappointment.
I wave off the notion, endeavouring to regain my composure quickly with my hand still partly covering my mouth. “It’s not that, Garreth. I simply haven’t been feeling well today.”
“You haven’t?” Ominis asks.
“Ah, well, sorry to hear that. I’ll keep working on it. Perhaps half a pinch less billywig. You’d better be healthy when next I see you,” Garreth says before departing back toward the village.
“Are you really not well? Why didn't you tell me? I would’ve waited, or travelled to your place myself,” Ominis insists. His concern for my health is touching, but unneeded.
“I’m not ill, Ominis,” I answer, sitting back down on the bench.
He becomes more interrogative. “Then what is it that's upsetting you, besides our Sallow friends? Or is Garreth’s fizzing concoction truly that nauseating?”
“It’s… I'm...” I stumble, struggling to find words that will ring true enough to not be immediately detected as a falsehood.
“What is it?” he asks. “You’re hiding something, or not telling me all of it.”
How does he do that? It’s bloody impossible to lie to Ominis Gaunt. He could cut through Sebastian’s like a broom through mist. “I can’t tell you,” I admit, caressing my belly softly over the wool covering it. “I trust you, but I can’t tell you. To share what I can, Ominis… I don’t know if I’ll be attending Hogwarts when September arrives.”
“What do you mean? Are you transferring to another school?” Ominis asks. He leans forward, raising his eyebrows in a fearful expression above those cloudy grey orbs.
“No,” I answer, shaking my head.
“Has it something to do with Ranrok or Rookwood?” he guesses.
“No.”
“Professor Fig?”
“No,” I answer, pain rising in my voice. I’m certain Eleazar Fig would be the least disappointed in me for my current predicament, out of all my professors. He would forgive and defend me. He would understand… but he died in my arms, prouder of me than my own father has ever been.
“Then… it must be Sebastian. I know the both of you were close. Honestly, I became a little envious of you spending so much time together at first. It will be difficult, but I'm sure he would want you to stay and finish your time at Hogwarts."
I can’t carry this secret myself anymore. My voice trembles as the words begin flooding out. “I’m… having… a baby, Ominis.” I struggle to remember to breathe when finished.
His eyes widen even more. “Are you really?” he asks in a shocked tone, though I can tell he believes me this time.
“Yes,” I answer, glancing down to wear my baby grows.
“But… how? You’re only fifteen,” he says not in disbelief, but pity.
“Sixteen. I’m sixteen now,” I correct him.
“Merlin’s beard,” he exhales exasperatedly. “This is Sebastian's doing, isn't it?” His voice becomes more confrontational in that same way he spoke to me when he first found out I was in the Undercroft.
“It was both of us,” I admit. That was the truth. Sebastian didn’t force me. I was just as willing as him that night, but there was something else: Sebastian was sad before we kissed and laid down together, overwhelmed with desperation to save Anne, and I wanted to comfort him. What we did made him forget for a precious little while.
Ominis’s hand strokes the skin between his brows as he hunches forward. “He was always getting himself into trouble, but he simply had to drag you down with him. Does he know?”
“No one knows, except you. It’s why I haven’t gone home,” I answer.
He pauses to form another question. “Are you… showing yet?”
“Very little, as long as I wear a cloak or something loose,” I explain.
“But that won’t last, and you can’t very well hide it when sharing a room with other girls. I understand now.”
“I’m sorry, Ominis,” I tell him. I can see this is no happy news as his face turns to me again, those cloudy eyes of his bleak and hopeless.
“I’ve already lost two of my oldest friends. I don’t want to lose you, too,” he pleads.
“What else can I do, Ominis? I can’t simply go back to Hogwarts as a sixth-year as planned. I’ll be due before springtime. The Headmaster will gladly have me expelled… and my parents… I'm sure they'll disown me for bearing a child out of wedlock.”
Ominis went silent for a long moment. I can tell he's thought of something. “What if you were married?” he finally asks.
“Married?” My mouth doesn’t bother to close. His question has caught me completely off-guard.
“Married. Sixteen is young, yes, but not unheard of. I’ve heard it’s more common in the muggle world to marry so young,” he explains.
“I can’t get married!” I let out a nervous laugh at the ridiculous notion.
“I didn’t say it was an ideal solution, but it might satisfy your parents and Black, especially if you can persuade some other professors to support you. It would ensure your child has a legitimate name and a father. It would protect your honour as well. We may not agree with it, but the wizarding world still expects such conventions,” he explains.
“But Sebastian is the real father,” I argue.
“No one else needs to know, at least until the child is older. It wouldn’t be a pleasant revelation to hear.”
A marriage built on lies to protect me and my baby. With a marriage, I might still finish my sixth and seventh years, if the professors show mercy. I could continue to protect the repository and prepare the way for future stewards uncontested. I daresay Matilda might actually listen to me. Stars, is that what I’m calling her now, instead of Professor Weasley? Godric’s heart, am I truly considering doing this? “Who in Merlin’s name would I marry? Who would agree to such a thing?” I ask.
Ominis pauses a moment and swallows, still with that expression of unsurety written on his fair face. “Me,” he says timidly, barely more than a whisper.
“You?” I ask, unable to manage uttering anything else in my disbelief. He doesn’t appear to have taken a blow to the head recently. “You would agree to marry me?”
“I can hardly believe I’m saying it, but yes. I would, if it helps,” he manages to answer with that rare smile of his and again, his hand over his chest.
Visions swirled like whirlpools in my mind: Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt, the younger and kind. Ominis as my husband. I, his wife, carrying the child of his best friend. Marrying me to save us. The vision ends, and I come to my senses. “Ominis, I can’t ask this of you. I know marriage is more a business agreement in your part of the wizarding world, but if I ever marry, I want it to be for true affection,” I say, not caring a whit how naive I may sound. If Sebastian had asked, I would've accepted in a heartbeat.
Ominis softly scoffs, but doesn't mock me. “My father and mother have always expected I would marry someone of their choosing, a cousin of pure old wizarding blood, but I don’t care… and I do care for you. There are different kinds of love.”
I don’t disagree. Ominis loves Sebastian, Anne, and possibly me, but was that enough to make a marriage? I find myself softening again. “What of your parents? Do you not fear what they could do?” Crucio. Ominis never forgot that pain.
“I can protect you from them. Not that I think you need it, troll vanquisher that you are,” he says with a hint of humour. “We could live wherever you prefer. You would never have to see them.”
I look away joylessly, glancing briefly at my battered black shoes and the humble green veins atop my hands. "They will object. I'm not of any ancient house. More than a drop of muggle blood flows within me," I admit, keenly aware of the prestige of the Gaunts and their obsession with blood status, and I almost hope this will make Ominis change his mind.
"I don't care about that. The Sallows aren't pure-blooded either. It never mattered to me."
He's better than all his family combined, I know it, but I still cannot accept. “What of Anne? Shouldn’t she know of her brother's child?” I consider and turn to him, searching for more reasons not to do this. I rest my hand on the cold stone bench at my side.
“It's your decision whether or not to tell her, but I promise: I would love your child as my own.”
Tears well like overflowing puddles in my eyes. Sebastian, should you hear of this, will you ever forgive me? Can you ever forgive us both?
I finally answer, gazing at Ominis, my heart racing inside my chest. “Alright." Only moments later do I realise Ominis's hand has found my own.