The Serpents Hold | Ominis Gaunt

Chapter Nine

Dear Nova,

I have made a discovery within Feldcroft catacombs, but I need your help in gaining access. Meet me there tomorrow after dark. Please refrain from disclosing this to Ominis.

With anticipation,

Sebastian.

Nova's fingernails were chewed down to jagged slivers. Her eyes darted between the letter and Ominis as she grappled with the decision to confide in him. He was blissfully unaware, fast asleep at the far end of the sofa and mostly obscured by a blanket. His unruly hair covered his face as he nestled into the crook of his elbow, one arm draped across Nova's legs.

She was reluctant to disturb him, but with the clock above the fireplace ticking closer to midday, she couldn't ignore that she only had a few short hours before Sebastian would be expecting her.

"Ominis?"

She shifted her legs, prompting an indignant moan from beneath the covers. With some proficient sofa-digging, she unearthed her wand and summoned heat into a teapot resting on the table.

Her eyes were glued to Ominis as he fought himself upright, her cheeks burning as she beheld his morning appearance. It was a stark departure from his usual uniformity—dishevelled, dressed in his snug, black jumper that hugged his form, with the faint imprints of the sofa's upholstery stamped across his beauty marks.

"Good morning," he croaked, mustering a valiant effort to tame his hair back into its customary neat style.

She tore her attention away from him to fill two mugs with tea. "Morning. How did you sleep?"

"Fine, once you stopped flopping around."

"It took a lot of restraint; I hope you appreciate it," She inched a beverage into his hands and nestled comfortably against the backrest.

Ominis indulged in a stretch, impressively keeping the liquid upright throughout the gesture. "So, what's on the agenda for our Christmas Eve?" he asked, blowing away the rising steam.

Nova's mind lacked creative inspiration; she only wanted to retreat to the Quidditch tower and waste the day away.

"We could put that Quidditch pitch to good use?" she suggested, retrieving his abandoned packet of taffy. "You can teach me how to play."

"How well do you think the visually impaired can navigate the skies?"

"Oh, well, I guess that rules out a broom race through the halls," She nibbled on her sickly-sweet breakfast, joking to cloak her genuine disappointment.

"Any suggestions that don't involve me crashing headfirst into a brick wall?"

"We could venture into the Forbidden Forest and see what all the fuss is about. There's hardly any faculty around to stop us."

A faint mist of tea accompanied his startled choke at her proposal. "Are you winding me up or trying to get us killed? I don't appreciate either."

"You're such a wimp," she taunted, jogging his arm with her foot.

He retaliated by digging his fingertips into her kneecap, causing a startled squeal as a tidal wave sloshed into her lap. His laughter stopped abruptly when she tossed the soggy end of the blanket at his face.

"All right then, what are your suggestions?"

"You know what I've always dreamed of doing?" His face lit up as he rubbed off the droplets with his sleeve. "Treat myself to a bath in the prefects' bathroom."