Hogwarts Legacy: The Price of Power

A Questionable Lead

In the fullness of time, with much encouragement from each other and a healthy dose of friendly competitiveness, Dracaena, Ominis and Sebastian got very drunk.

The keg of butterbeer stood empty, despite Dracaena occasionally refilling it with a wave of her wand, and the bottle of firewhisky was half-full. They sat draped against each other, leaning against the wall, surrounded by the detritus of their mini-feast, the Exploding Snap cards discarded after several more detonations, the last of which managed to set the sleeve of Dracaena's jacket on fire.

Now, they were laughing, the floor tilting a little, occasionally bumping heads.

"Hey, Dracaena," Sebastian slumped against her shoulder, chuckling. "You know why the wizard with no arms fell off his broom?"

"Why?"

"Someone threw a cauldron at him."

She snorted, levitating the firewhisky to pour each of them another glass. She squinted through the haze, trying to make her eyes work in tandem.

"Well, did you know that a Puffskein can jump higher than a house?" she said.

"What?" Sebastian blinked. "Really?"

"Well, yes," Ominis said, accepting his glass with a smile, swaying where he sat. "Houses can't jump, you see."

"Prick," Sebastian said fondly, leaning back against the wall, slinging an arm around Dracaena's shoulders. Ominis leaned against her, yawning a little.

"We should probably do something a little more constructive tomorrow," he slurred, his eyes half-lidded.

"We need to make it back to the dorms, first," Dracaena replied. Ominis didn't respond, and she glanced at him. He'd fallen asleep, his glass tilting in his hand, his head drooping onto her shoulder. Smiling a little, she took the glass and tucked an arm around him, gently guiding him to lie down, his head in her lap. She leaned back against Sebastian, his arm still around her shoulders.

"He's asleep?" Sebastian murmured, stifling a yawn of his own. "Don't blame him. Everything's a bit... spinny."

"We should probably leave the rest of this for later, then," Dracaena said, corking the bottle.

"Shame," Sebastian said, resting his cheek against her hair. He drew a slow, deep sigh, and tightened his arm around her. "Look, Drac, about earlier..."

"Don't worry about it," she said, instantly. "Peeves is a horrible piece of work, we should have expected something like this."

"Yeah, I should have," Sebastian nuzzled her hair. "But that's no excuse for me shutting you both out like that. Not being able to control myself led me into this mess in the first place."

"It wasn't that," Dracaena said, softly. "You were determined to help Anne. It was just... just a very unfortunate set of circumstances that all boiled over, that's all."

Sebastian shook his head. "That makes it all sound so trivial," he murmured. "It wasn't. I killed someone, Drac. My uncle. Yeah, I was alone. I searched for a cure for two years, and no one would help me. I was going mad, blocked at every turn, Solomon constantly telling me there was no cure, telling Anne that everything was hopeless, crushing her spirit... I had nothing, Drac. No one to turn to, no one to support me."

"You had Ominis."

"Yeah, and I nearly destroyed our friendship, forcing him to deal with that which he hates the most." He shook his head. "I had no one... no one until you came." His fingers brushed her cheek, and she turned her head to find his face inches from hers. They were so close she could count his freckles, and see that, in the deep shades of umber and mocha of his eyes, there were flecks of caramel, and the faintest starburst of gold around his pupils.