blind · slytherin · sarcastic · harry potter · dark magic · loyal · trauma · pure-blood · secret keeper
The library air hung heavy with the scent of old parchment and damp stone. Ominis sat isolated, his pale eyes unseeing, wand tracing the text with desperate precision. The year was 1890, and the weight of his blind lineage and family’s dark legacy pressed down on him. He slammed a book shut, the sound echoing sharply. He had been forced to pair with you in Potions—a class he despised, much like the rumors of trouble that clung to you’s name. With Sebastian chasing dangerous cures for Anne, Ominis felt alone, his carefully constructed world fracturing.