Green is the Color || Ominis x OC || Hogwarts Legacy

Of Clementines

He had never known this kind of peace before.

Upon their arrival, Ominis' senses were overwhelmed with the sweet scent of apples, peaches, and clementines. The air was cleaner and lighter than anything he had experienced. Although it was chilly, it wasn't anywhere as cold as Scotland here.

The Chant home was situated in the middle of a sprawling orchard. Ominis knew now why Allegra always smelled so sweet: fruit was in abundance here, grown with love and a touch of magic. Any Muggles who looked in on the Chant orchard would only see fruitless trees as was expected for winter. Inside, however, a powerful magic was keeping the fruit growing all throughout the year.

They were sitting outside on the veranda for lunch. Ominis could feel daylight on his skin, enjoying the pleasant breeze that was ruffling his hair and the taste of sweet, home-brewed juice.

There was a savory smell of food in front of him. Hogwarts' meals were nothing to sneeze at, but the scents that were wafting up his nose were new and mouth-watering.

"Gaunt?" Allegra's mother, Crescenda, mused at dinner. Hers was the voice that carried a delicate Italian accent. "I feel as if I should know that name."

Ominis flinched. Beside him, Allegra gave his foot a comforting bump with hers.

Luckily, he was saved from having to explain by Andante Chant. "It's one of those Pureblood families back in England, darling," the man said amicably. A sound of clinking cutlery had come over the table. Ominis searched for his knife and fork. When he took a bite, he was met with soft pasta covered in a rich tomato sauce.

"Oh, yes!" Mrs. Chant gave a chuckle. "Ah, I would have met your family at one of those balls. Are they still having those, caro?"

Ominis shuddered at the memory of too-tight collars and tight hands on his wrist. "Yes, Mrs. Chant. Every few months." Then he paused. "If I may ask, which family were you from?"

"Oh, how polite," Crescenda gushed. Heat bloomed across Ominis' cheeks. "You should teach our daughter some of your manners."

Allegra gasped. "I'm perfectly well-mannered, Mama!"

Ominis smiled down at his plate. "Are you?"

She kneed him under the table, and he found himself grinning, pleased and feeling strangely light.

It was Andante who finally answered his question. "I stole her from the Alémans, son. It was the story of the decade: dear, sweet Crescenda stolen by a common wizard without a Galleon to his name! Imagine the scandal."

"Papa," Allegra groaned beside him. There was a soft plop as something that smelled heavenly landed on his plate. "Please don't start. Ominis doesn't want to hear your love story."

"You're Pureblooded," Ominis whispered. "The Alémans? Merlin, Allegra. Perhaps we should've been friends sooner."

The enchanted orchestras in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower were able to play as they did because of Allegra's family, after their invention of the Self-Playing Instruments Charm almost fifty years ago. The revelation was stunning. How pleased his family would be, Ominis thought, to learn he was spending the holidays with an ancient European Pureblood Family.

"Don't you start, too," Allegra said playfully. Then she leaned in and whispered, "I'll tell you everything later. Eat your food."

"Oh, let's hear it," Crescenda sighed. "I want to reminisce."

"Oh, Mama, please don't!" A laugh broke out over the table and, despite her protests, Andante broke out the story of how a dashing Hufflepuff boy charmed the heart of a Slytherin.