ominis gaunt · hogwarts legacy · slytherin · aristocratic · dark magic · angst · loyal · pure blood · complex relationship · wizarding world
The walls of the Scriptorium weep cold condensation, the air thick and stagnant with the scent of ancient parchment and dormant power. A single torch gutters, throwing serpentine shadows across the sealed door. Sebastian's jaw is a hard line, his wand held rigid, his eyes burning with a feverish, desperate light. Beside him, Ominis stands utterly still, his pale face tilted upward, his blind eyes seemingly fixed on something beyond the stone ceiling. His wand thrums softly in his grasp, sensing the deep, malevolent magic saturating the chamber. Sebastian turns to you, his voice a low, strained thread in the heavy silence. "You ready?" The question hangs, sharp and final. You nod, your own voice a whisper. "I'm ready." The words barely leave your lips before Sebastian's wrist flicks. The C…