Chapter Text
Sebastian wasn’t sure why he blurted it out. He wasn’t even sure why it came to his head in the first place. But once it was there, once he’d said it, he started to believe it. With a stubborn determination he only ever seemed to have around Ominis anymore.
“What?” Ominis’ eyes were wide and round, disbelieving. “Why would you…?”
“Why not?” Sebastian shot back. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Why hadn’t he suggested this months ago, years ago? “We’re both of age, the current contract is null and void until you give consent and it becomes obsolete when you enter a new one.”
“When?” Ominis sounded strangled. “Sebastian–”
But Sebastian couldn’t listen. He stood up, pacing the dormitory excitedly. “You’ll have a legal reason to stay in Feldcroft after graduation, one your father can’t fight, even with Ministry connections, and - of course! - you can change your name! Distance yourself from your family once and for all! They won’t be able to touch you, it’s genius!”
“It’s mad,” Ominis breathed. He looked almost impressed at the level of Sebastian’s absurdity. Sebastian revelled in the lightness of his expression, erasing the heavy frown that had lined his friend’s face all month. “But…”
“But what?” Sebastian paced back to Ominis’ bed, standing his ground. “C’mon, you know it would work, and solve all your–”
“I’m not going to take away your future, Sebastian,” Ominis interrupted him quietly. The frown was back, along with a pinched look to his eyes. Sebastian ached to smooth them away.
There was a pause, before Sebastian scoffed as lightly as he could. “Yeah, what future?”
Now Ominis looked pained. “Sebastian…”
Sebastian sighed, flopping down to sit next to his friend. “Sorry. You know I’m trying to be more optimistic. But seriously, it’s not like I’ve ever been that interested in, well…all of that in the first place.”
Ominis arched an eyebrow. “All of that?”
Sebastian arched an eyebrow back, if only to make himself feel better. “Yes, Ominis. All of that.” He steadfastly kept his hands splayed on either side of his legs rather than make a suggestive – and entirely unnecessary, considering his audience – gesture.
Ominis’ eyebrow arched higher. “Oh, really? I seem to remember in third year there was a particular Hufflepuff who–”
“You said you wouldn’t bring that up again!”
“Not to mention that Ravenclaw, what was the word you used again? Voluptuous? Tempestuous?”
“Ominis,” Sebastian groaned in embarrassment, burying his face in his hands and collapsing back on the bed.
Ominis let the silence speak for a moment before continuing in a much softer tone, “It’s not just your future, Sebastian. If we want this to work long term, I’d rather we didn’t grow to resent each other.”
Sebastian shot up, his embarrassment utterly forgotten. “What? I could never–”
“Yes, you say that now,” Ominis replied. His tone was the snide aristocratic one he used when he was trying to hide a tell. “But what happens in a year, five years, ten? You’ll still be hopelessly devoted? No wandering eyes, hurt feelings? To go against my father’s plan, this must be a binding magical contract, not some flimsy piece of Muggle paper you can just break on a whim, you know.”
Sebastian eyed him, spotting the faint blush and twitch of his fingers that meant this was bothering him a lot more than he let on. Sebastian took a chance and carefully laid his hand over the one Ominis was resting on the duvet. Ominis’ hand twitched under the cautious grip but he didn’t pull it away. Sebastian curved his fingers more fully around it, squeezing gently. “I know.”
The blush spread over Ominis’ cheeks and he turned away but Sebastian was pleased to note that he was careful not to move his hand. “You can’t know. Sebastian…” Ominis trailed off, then seemed to think of something. Something unpleasant, if what Sebastian could see of his expression was anything to go on. “Sebastian,” he said again. “You don’t owe me anything. You know that, right?”
Sebastian squeezed his hand again, harder, and brought it to his lap. “I mean, I don’t fully agree, but that’s not what this is.”
Ominis turned back to him, squinting suspiciously.
“Ominis,” Sebastian said as solemnly as he could. This was important. “I promise that’s not what this is.”
Ominis’ expression smoothed out incrementally, reminding Sebastian of slowly fading ripples on the lake. “Then what is it?”
Sebastian felt his face warming before he resolutely cleared his throat. “A solution. For both of us.”
—
“Are you serious.” Despite the phrasing, Robin’s voice made it very clear the sentence wasn’t a question.
Sebastian cleared his throat, awkwardly waiting for the gaggle of excitable second years to pass them by before answering. “Yes, of course I’m serious. Will you help us or not?”
When they simply stared at him for a moment as if weighing all the decisions that had led them to this point, Sebastian glared and snapped out, “What?”
“Just trying to decide if this is more or less hare-brained than everything that happened in fifth year,” they shot back before instantly looking guilty. “Sebastian, I’m–”
“Save it,” he cut them off impatiently. The less said about that horrible year, the better.
Robin’s guilty look unfortunately only seemed to deepen. “You really should talk to someone about–”
“Not interested.”
“Sebastian, it doesn’t have to be me, but someone–”
“What part of that not did you not understand?”
“Seriously? You can’t keep–”
“Just leave it, alright? I’m perfectly–”
“I’m just worried about you! Everyone is, you know. Anne, Ominis–”
“Enough!” Sebastian cut them off, loudly enough that several third years down the corridor glanced over before immediately starting to whisper amongst themselves. He could already feel the gossip mill turning. Brilliant.
Robin was starting to look mutinous, but Sebastian would take that over guilty any day. They opened their mouth but before they could say anything else, he cut them off, wrenching the conversation back on track.
“We don’t need anything crazy from you, anyway, just to be a witness.”
Robin looked toward the nearby staircase, still glowering, and Sebastian sincerely hoped they weren’t about to walk away. Before he could get too desperate, they asked, “Don’t you need one witness per spouse?”
Sebastian absolutely did not sigh in relief. He took a measured breath, leaned casually back against the wall and said, “True, Ominis is asking Anne. We thought it’d be best if she represented him, considering, well…”
He waved a hand awkwardly, encompassing the past two years of grief, blazing rows, and careful forgiveness with one insufficient gesture. “Anyway, it won’t take up too much of your time. Maybe fifteen minutes. Maximum.”
They rolled their eyes, the mutinous look fading. “How romantic.”
“It’s not meant to be,” Sebastian scoffed. “It’s a solution.”
They squinted at him. “That’s the exact word Ominis used. A solution.”
There was a beat. “Wait, Ominis already talked to you?”
They laughed then started off down the corridor, talking over their shoulder. “Something about ‘preparing me for the incoming disaster of a conversation’, I believe? You two should really get better at communicating.”
“Wait, so does that mean you’ll do it? Oi, will you?”
—
Ominis sighed in a slightly desperate way, flinging the fifth robe set down on his bed in disgust. “This would be a lot easier if you would give any feedback at all, you know!” he spat at Sebastian.
Sebastian let the quill he’d been levitating fall, snatching it out of the air before it could bean him in the nose. “You look lovely, dear.”
“And I’m sure you look like a slob,” Ominis snarled. “Have you even brushed your hair today?”
“It’s Sunday, Ominis,” Sebastian sighed, letting his arm fall over his face lazily.
“Precisely. We have two days. Two days, Sebastian.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying. We have so much time.”
“Why did we have to do it on a Tuesday, of all days? We’ll be coming from Potions in the morning, we’ll likely have to change before lunch as we won’t have any time afterward–”
“Ominis,” Sebastian interrupted in exasperation. “Will you give it a rest? It’s not the end of the world.”
Ominis fell silent but his frown only deepened. “No,” he said lowly. “It’s a solution.”
Sebastian winced, sitting up and awkwardly running his hand through his hair. He eyed Ominis’ tense outline before sighing and walking over to stand next to him, looking at the five almost identical outfits laid out on the bed.
“That one,” he said decisively, grabbing Ominis’ hand and putting it on the third one.
Ominis rubbed the robe’s fabric between his fingers, his frown turning pensive. “Why this one?”
Sebastian eyed the fabric critically. “I dunno, it’s softer, more comfortable? Has a sort of muted color to it, reminds me of–” He cut himself off and stepped back to his own bed.
Ominis tilted his head inquisitively but thankfully didn’t press. He slowly started putting away the other outfits, moving calmly and quietly. Sebastian watched him and wondered at his own thoughts.
When only the chosen robes remained, Ominis paused with his hand again on the fabric. “Reminds you of what?” he asked, so quietly Sebastian could almost convince himself he hadn’t said anything at all.
When he didn’t move, waiting expectantly, Sebastian sighed and flopped back on his bed so he could look at the ceiling instead. “Your eyes,” he mumbled, resigned to his embarrassment. “The wormwood bushes in Feldcroft. Home.”
There was a heavy pause. Ominis didn’t move but said, very quietly, “Oh.”
—
Sunday night came and went, Sebastian fading in and out of dreams, by turns comforting and terrifying. Ominis featured heavily, as always, but Mr. Gaunt’s murderous face was still sharp in his mind when he woke abruptly to a cold, misty morning.
Monday passed in a blur, worryingly ordinary. Sebastian knew Ominis’ father wasn’t going to come hurtling around the corner, brandishing his wand menacingly. Obviously. Didn’t stop him from being jumpy enough that he spilled too much leech juice into his cauldron and only stopped it from boiling over by the judicial application of a status charm while he worked out the remaining measurements to adjust for his slip up. Sharp certainly seemed to notice, if the narrow-eyed glare he shot Sebastian’s sample vial had any bearing. Sebastian didn’t wait around to find out.
His only consolation was Defense Against the Dark Arts, where Professor Hecat was kind enough to let her class wreak havoc on each other, all in the name of practicing their dueling reactions. Nothing like letting adrenaline obliterate his jumbled thoughts. Ominis likewise threw himself into the session in a way that made Sebastian wonder if he wasn’t alone in just trying to make it through the day.
The only break from the norm was a short trip to Hogsmeade which Sebastian snuck in right after the last class of the day, slipping silently away from his classmates. He tucked his purchase away securely in his dormitory, carefully not thinking about why he felt the need to do so, before rejoining the group.
After an uneventful dinner, in which Anne made stilted conversation around Sebastian rather than at him and Robin played mediator as always, the four of them convened in the library and buried themselves in schoolwork and N.E.W.T. preparatory studies. Or at least, Sebastian attempted to.
“Daydreaming about simpler times?” teased Robin. Sebastian snapped out of his staring contest with the entrance to the Restricted Section and whipped around to retort before closing his mouth abruptly when Ominis answered instead.
“Ah, the juvenile joys of skirting detention,” he murmured sardonically. “No, I was just thinking, as a matter of fact.”
Robin looked between the two of them, smile twitching at the edges of their mouth. “Actually, I was talking–”
“Just leave them be,” interrupted Anne, not looking up from her essay. “You know they’ll both be hopeless through Friday at least. Can you read over this conclusion if you have a moment?” And she finished off her last sentence with a flourish before pushing it across the table at Robin.
“Oi,” protested Sebastian, but quietly. Scribner was prowling the stacks, after all.
Ominis flushed, barely noticeable in the low lighting of their private corner, and bent over his parchment without a word. Sebastian took a moment to notice that the very tips of his ears also appeared to be reddening before following suit, forcefully emptying his head of anything aside from Caladorius’ Metaphysical Theory of Banishment Charms.
—
After Sunday night’s marathon of fragmented dreams, Sebastian rolled over and waited patiently for the tossing and turning to begin once more. He was pleasantly surprised when he instead dropped off like a log within ten minutes. He woke to a shout, followed immediately by his dormmates’ annoyed yelling.
“What? What is it?”
“Gaunt, what the hell!”
“I was sleeping! Between the two of you, it’s a bloody miracle any of us can get some sleep…”
Sebastian slipped out of bed, crossing the space to where Ominis was thrashing, still in the throes of a nightmare. He drew the curtains behind him as he kneeled on the mattress and cast a muffling charm, but not before retorting sharply, “Oh, soak your heads! I’ve got him.”
All it took was a low murmur of his name and a hand to his shoulder before Ominis was sitting up, casting blindly about. “Sebastian?” he whispered, his hands caught in Sebastian’s night shirt.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Sebastian murmured back, rubbing his friend’s shoulder soothingly.
Ominis let out a long, slow breath, hesitated, then just as slowly lowered his head until the top of it was pressed to Sebastian’s collarbone.
Sebastian let him breathe for a moment, settling more comfortably so he could rub Ominis’ back with his other hand before asking casually, “You want to talk about it?”
“No,” came the firm reply.
“Okay,” Sebastian answered easily. He idly matched his breathing to his friend’s and then gradually slowed it down until Ominis was breathing slowly and deeply, a trick both of them had mastered long ago. “You want me to stay?”
Ominis’ grip on the night shirt, which had slackened as his breathing slowed, tightened once more. There was a long, fraught moment of silence, before he breathed very quietly, “Yes.”
Sebastian rubbed his back once more, firmly, before he nudged him back. “Brilliant. Then budge up.”
It took a moment of shifting, no longer awkward for how often they’d resorted to post-nightmare comfort, especially in the last two years, before they were both ensconced under the covers, not touching but close enough to feel each others’ body heat.
Sebastian tried closing his eyes, wanting the comforting dark of unconsciousness he’d been jerked out of so quickly mere moments ago but couldn’t help opening his eyes every few seconds, checking on his bedmate.
The fifth time he looked and Ominis’ eyes were still open, staring blankly past Sebastian’s shoulder, he sighed, giving up. “What?”
“By this time tomorrow, we’ll be married,” Ominis whispered, barely sounding like he believed himself.
When Sebastian didn’t respond beyond an affirming hum, Ominis narrowed his eyes, annoyed. “And that isn’t the least bit surreal to you?”
“I’m sure it will be,” Sebastian returned, yawning widely. “Give me time, you know how much slower I am than you.”
Ominis huffed and turned over. Sebastian stifled a laugh into the pillow before pulling his friend back with an arm around his waist. Ominis put up a token struggle but gave in with a deep sigh approximately two seconds later, leaning back into the embrace and placing his hand over Sebastian’s arm.
Sebastian had almost fallen asleep again, snuffling into Ominis’ hair, when he heard, so softly he thought it might be a dream, “You’re sure?”
He tightened his hold and sighed, “Positive,” before dropping off between one breath and the next.