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

Of Coming Home

Ominis arrived at Gaunt Manor in the warmth of the afternoon. Sighing, Ominis waited for the gates to open. A faint fizz of magic welcomed his entry: his parents' complex blood wards. Ominis walked up the path to the Manor itself, remembering every brick step he walked on, remembering the rustle of each bush his hand skimmed against. He was home. The very idea was depressing.

A pair of heavy double doors creaked open. Ominis stepped inside, letting out a heavy sigh. Gaunt Manor smelled like incense and dust. It felt like thick, stifling air and too-large rooms, accompanied by near-absolute silence. It was familiar, but it was hard to call it welcoming.

As Ominis made a beeline for his room, he heard someone giggling off to his right. A smile crossed his lips. The sound was followed by rapid footsteps and muffled laughter.

"My, my. What's that noise?" Ominis hummed, putting a finger on his chin. "I sense something scurrying about."

The footsteps moved behind him. Ominis whirled, feeling someone hurriedly move away. "Is that a troll?" he teased, creeping forward and holding out his arms. "Is that...a pesky little pixie?" The presence scrambled to his right.

"Oh, I know. It's a devilish little sister!" He darted his arms out, closing them around the small form of Lysandra Gaunt, who shrieked and threw her arms around him.

"You're home!" Lysandra cried. "Hello, Ominis!"

Ominis laughed. "Hello, Lizzy."

"Will you tell me everything?" Lysandra gasped. He could feel her bouncing on her feet as she pulled at his arm. "Will you show me new magic? Did you get me any presents?"

"I'll tell you everything you want to know, I promise."

In the distance, Ominis heard the harsh clicking of heels on a wooden floor. He felt Lysandra grow quiet and cling tightly to his arm. A presence blanketed in thick perfume, scents of incense, and rustling skirts was coming closer.

"What is all this racket?" a woman demanded. "Oh. You're home, then."

Ominis stifled a sigh. "Hello, Mother." He leaned upward to give his mother a stiff kiss on the cheek. In return, Rhea Gaunt gave her son a hovering hug.

"Really, Ominis. You're too old to be playing around. As are you, Lysandra." A cold hand settled on his shoulder. "Welcome home."

"Thank you, Mother," Ominis mumbled.

"Come. Let us speak."

Rhea led her children to the living room. Ominis was driven there by the shoulder; Lysandra was pulled by the wrist. As Ominis sank into a too-plush sofa, he heard his Mother loudly clap her hands. There was a snap of Apparition. That made him smile. That would be Plums.

"Yes, Madam?" It was Plums' airy, high-pitched voice.

"Light the lamps," Rhea said. "Fetch Fenton. And clean up the boy's room." Ominis bristled: for all his mother's preaching about manners, she was certainly capable of being rude. With another snap, Plums disappeared.
Heavy footsteps boomed somewhere above them, coming closer every second. Fenton Gaunt's presence brought a cloud of cigar smoke and a faint scent of bourbon underneath it. With a grunt, Fenton collapsed into the chair across from Ominis'. He heard his mother take a seat beside her husband.

"I've heard a lot about your activities at school, son." Father's voice was deep, rough, and scratchy.

Ominis felt himself tense. Wonderful, he thought. Here we go.

"We received your O.W.L.S. results. Why have you scored a Poor?"

"The Astronomy practical required us to look into the sky, Father," Ominis said quietly. "The Ministry proctors would not allow me to find an alternative."