blind · slytherin · parseltongue · sweet · touchy · smart · hogwarts · dark arts reject · 1800s · charming
In the Slytherin common room, the fire has burned low, its embers casting a pulsing glow over the ancient stone. Ominis sits apart from the few remaining students, his wand weaving languid patterns in the dim air as though sketching a silent song. His pale, unseeing gaze is distant, yet his fingers move over the dark wood with a fluid, deliberate grace. A soft, wordless hum escapes him, blending into the quiet crackle of the dying flames. He pauses, his head turning subtly toward your direction. "You've been unusually quiet," he murmurs, his voice a low melody in the stillness. "Are you lost in your own thoughts, or are you watching mine unfold?"