No Choice But You // Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Chapter 12

The next week passed, and I managed to stay off the radar for the most part. I'd spend most of my time holed up in the library surrounded by textbooks. I hoped I hadn't overdone it on classes this year, but school was the one thing I was determined to do well at this year. Even if I couldn't get myself figured out, at least in schoolwork, there was always a single correct answer. There was nothing up for interpretation. It always made sense. 

"I think you have the book I need," someone said, grabbing my attention from the defense against the dark arts essay I'd been working on. "Poison or Protection: Herbology for defense."

I recognized the voice before I turned around to see Ominis standing behind me. I shuffled through the books in my workspace. "Oh, yeah, I have that here somewhere," I said. I picked up a rather large tome, fumbling it in my hands, and dropped it to the floor. I reached down to pick it up, and Ominis did so at the same time. His hands grabbed mine as he attempted to lift the tome from the ground. 

"It's alright, I've got it," he said, his voice tense. he let go of me and picked up the book and put it back on the table. "And the herbology book?" 

"Oh, right," I said. I went through the other texts in the workspace until I found what he was looking for, and handed it over. 

"Thanks," he said. Then, he left without another word. 

I sat back down at the desk and ran my hands over my face, trying to turn off the redness in my cheeks. Gods, I just felt so stupid whenever he was around--like I didn't know how to handle myself. I pushed my hair out of my face and tried to make myself focus back on my essay, but I just couldn't. There were too many thoughts rushing around my head. 

He hated me--which I knew, even if everyone thought it was misplaced. But still, sometimes in those little moments when our hands brushed, or like the other night when we spoke, I couldn't help it when my mind ran through the possibilities. 

But I needed to stop those thoughts. I couldn't be thinking of him like that. I knew my head was just making things up.

* * * 

I had another attack during quidditch practice the next week. I made an emergency landing on my broom when my heart started racing--it was either that, or fall off my broom in the sky. 

I hated the attention it brought. Imelda was annoyed, and rightfully so. 

I went down into the locker room below the pitch and locked myself in one of the bathrooms. 

"Y/n, are you alright?" someone asked through the door. 

"This better not be serious." That was Imelda. "The Gryffindor game is this weekend! You better be alright." 

Other worried chatter filtered through the door. I squeezed my arms over my torso and tried to quiet my heaving breaths and chokes as the pain washed over me. 

"Everybody, just give her some space," someone said outside the bathroom. I heard some of them leave, but I heard someone lean against the door, and then a light knock sounded. "Can I come in?" It was Anne. 

Of course, it was. When could I escape her? 

"Fine," I rasped. I reached up to the door with a shaky hand and unlocked it. Anne came into the bathroom and crouched next to me on the floor. 

"I didn't know it was this bad," she said. "I knew the signs, but--"

"Signs?" I asked, my voice cracking. Another wave of fire coursed through me, and I clutched my gut and clamped my mouth closed, trying not to puke. 

"As someone who suffered from a curse for years, you think I wouldn't notice? I know it's not exactly the same, but Sebastian... he was like this, too, for a while when he came back from--being gone. Why haven't you asked for help? Or anything?"

"Nothing helps," I choked. Another wave of pain shot through me, causing me to convulse. "I just have to wait until it passes. I'll be fine." 

I didn't like to worry her. The look on her face told me she was beyond worried, and I wished I hadn't let her see me like this. I didn't need worry, or pity, or whatever this was. I could handle this on my own. It would pass, and I'd be fine. 

"There are things that help," she said. "Sebastian--"

"I don't want to hear about him," I defended. "I told you, I'm fine."

"No, you're not! Just look at yourself. You don't have to live like this," she pleaded. 

Everything that was happening to me was my fault. If I hadn't dabbled in the dark arts, then none of this would be happening. 

"I deserve every inch of this pain," I wheezed. "Every bit of this is my fault. I know this will go away with time, but for now, I just have to live with this." 

"It's like you're letting yourself suffer on purpose," she scoffed. "That's crazy."

"It is what it is, Anne," I said. My fingers dug into my sides. "It. Will. Pass." 

Anned scoffed again but didn't leave. She helped me into a more comfortable position and waited with me until the episode passed. By the time I was feeling better again, quidditch practice was over. She walked me back to the dorm and finally left me on my own when I went to get into the shower. 

I ran the water as cold as it could go and sat in the tub with my head between my legs. Even though the episode had passed, there was still the always-present aching in my chest that I just couldn't shake sometimes. I took in a few deep breaths, letting my chest expand and collapse as far as it could go with each intake of air. My skin pebbled in the cold water, and I shivered. After a few minutes, the cold was helping, and my breathing was less shaky.

I stayed there until I couldn't stand the cold anymore.