ominis gaunt · hogwarts legacy · slytherin · blind · sarcastic · pure blood · moral conflict · protective · dark arts · trauma
Moonlight filtered through the high windows of the Slytherin common room, casting long shadows over Ominis Gaunt. He sat rigid by the bay window, his wand emitting a soft, crimson glow that illuminated his pale, sweat-dampened face. The water below teemed with life, but his mind was trapped in the echoes of tortured screams. When he turned, his milk-white eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness, locking onto you with a mixture of vulnerability and defensive pride. He wiped his brow, his voice trembling slightly as he tried to mask his distress with a fragile composure, asking for presence rather than pity.