Hogwarts Legacy Fic Requests

A dull, throbbing pain echoed through your skull as you drifted back to consciousness. The world felt sluggish, blurred around the edges, as if you were submerged in murky water. A deep ache radiated through your limbs, each breath rattling in your chest.

Something had happened.

The memory wavered at the edges of your mind, foggy but insistent. A flicker of firelight. The sharp crack of spellfire in the dark. The acrid scent of burning wood and singed fabric. The rush of adrenaline as you dodged a hex, your wand raised in defense. Poachers. You had been clearing out a poacher camp. There had been—

A curse.

It slammed into you with the force of a Bludger, sending you crumpling to the ground. You had barely registered the pain before everything had gone dark.

The realization sent a jolt through you, a gasp slipping from your lips as your body jerked in response.

Pain flared through your ribs. Your throat was raw, lips chapped. You forced your heavy eyelids open, the hazy glow of candlelight swimming into focus. The sterile scent of healing potions and fresh linens filled your senses. The Hospital Wing.

Someone moved nearby, the sound of soft footsteps and the rustle of fabric breaking through the fog in your mind. A blurry figure hovered at your bedside, and as your vision cleared in sluggish increments, you recognized the crisp white robes, the stern but gentle face of Madam Blainey.

“You’re awake,” she said softly, her voice a measured blend of relief and authority. She leaned closer, pressing the back of her hand lightly to your forehead. The coolness was a stark contrast to the heat simmering under your skin. “That’s good, but don’t move too quickly. Your body needs time—”

You tried to shift, but a sharp, aching pull through your ribs stopped you. Your limbs felt foreign, weighed down by exhaustion and something deeper, something residual from whatever magic had torn through you. A heaviness clung to your muscles, a dull throb pounding in your skull. You barely had the strength to turn your head.

But it didn’t matter. There was only one thing you needed right now.

You swallowed, throat dry and raw. Your lips parted, but the first attempt at sound was just a rasp, barely more than a breath.

“Pl—please, bring them,” you croaked, your voice barely more than a whisper, raw and uneven.

Madam Blainey’s lips pressed into a thin line, her expression flickering with disapproval. A firm but gentle hand settled against your shoulder, pressing you back against the pillows with just enough force to keep you from struggling.

You knew that she knew who you were asking for.

“Hush now,” she chided, her tone edged with quiet authority, though there was no true harshness in it. “You need to rest.”

You ignored her.

You fought against the weight in your chest, the sluggishness of your body. Their names burned at the back of your throat, but when you tried to say them, it caught, strangled before it could form.

Sebastian. Ominis.

Frustration clawed at you. Your body refused to cooperate, but your mind was clear, screaming for them, willing them to be here.

You sucked in a breath, willing strength into your voice. You wouldn’t let it slip away this time.

“Sebastian…” A pause. A swallow, thick and painful. “…Ominis…” please.

The words were hoarse, but they made it out, and that was all that mattered.

Madam Blainey exhaled sharply, clearly displeased with your insistence. “You need to rest—”

“Please,” you rasped, your voice cracking over the word. Your trembling fingers clenched weakly at the blankets, trying to gather the strength to push yourself upright. A mistake—the movement sent a spike of pain through your ribs, and you sucked in a sharp breath, barely muffling a wince.

Madam Blainey tsked, her frown deepening. But the desperation in your voice must have reached her because she sighed, long-suffering but resigned.

“Very well,” she relented at last. “Wait here.”

As if you had any other choice.

She turned briskly, her robes sweeping as she walked away, disappearing through the heavy doors of the Hospital Wing.

The Slytherin common room was subdued that evening, its usual undercurrent of quiet murmurs and flickering candlelight dampened by the weight of unspoken tension. The greenish glow of the Black Lake cast long, shifting shadows across the stone walls, making the cavernous space feel colder than usual.

Sebastian sat hunched forward at the edge of a worn leather couch, elbows resting on his knees, one leg bouncing restlessly. His hands were clasped together, knuckles white with strain. He wasn’t reading, wasn’t even pretending to. His eyes, dark with exhaustion, burned from lack of sleep, his mind running in endless circles.

He had never been good at waiting.

Ominis was silent in the chair beside him, his posture deceptively composed. A book lay in his lap, but he hadn't turned a page in over an hour. His fingers twitched idly over the spine, a restless movement betraying his own unease. He wasn’t reading either.

Neither of them spoke.

The fire crackled, its warmth failing to chase away the gnawing worry that coiled in both their chests. The clock on the mantelpiece ticked steadily, each second stretching the silence tighter, winding it into something unbearable.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his already-messy hair. His patience had long since frayed. Every minute that passed was another minute of uncertainty, another minute of not knowing.

How bad was it? Were you in pain?

The silence stretched, pressing against them—

Then, footsteps.

Sharp. Measured. Purposeful.

Both boys stilled.

Professor Sharp’s presence filled the room like a sudden draft, cool and authoritative. His expression was unreadable as he crossed the threshold, his gaze settling on them both with a quiet intensity.

"Gaunt. Sallow."

Sebastian’s head snapped up, his breath caught in his throat.

Ominis straightened instantly, the tension in his shoulders pulling him upright.

Sharp didn’t waste words.

“She’s awake.”

The words slammed into them like a thunderclap.

Sebastian was on his feet before he even processed it, his chair scraping back against the stone floor with a sharp, grating noise. Ominis was barely a step behind, his breath catching as he turned instinctively toward the sound of Sebastian’s movement, his own urgency written in the stiffness of his frame.

Neither of them waited for further explanation.

Sebastian was already moving, his long strides eating up the distance toward the door, the simmering dread that had clung to him for hours replaced by something sharper, more urgent.

Ominis followed without hesitation, fingers curling into tight fists at his sides, his mind racing as he tried to hold onto the relief that threatened to slip through his grasp.

You were awake.

That was all that mattered.

The Hospital Wing had never felt so far away.

The corridors stretched before them, long and dimly lit, their hurried footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls. At first, they tried to keep their composure, falling into a brisk, almost military pace behind Professor Sharp.

But Sebastian felt like he was going mad.

Each second felt like an eternity. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, his breathing tight, controlled only by sheer force of will. He could feel the tension radiating off Ominis beside him, the way his fingers twitched, his usually graceful steps slightly more rigid than usual.

It wasn’t enough.

His mind was already ahead of him, pushing past the weight of decorum and expectation. You were awake. But what did that mean? How hurt were you? Had you asked for them? Had you—

The Hospital Wing was still too far. The walls of the castle felt suffocating, the air too thick, too still.

His pulse roared in his ears.

Sharp took a turn down another corridor, leading them through a passage toward the grand staircase.

Too slow.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, a sound of barely restrained frustration, his fingers twitching before he gave up the pretense altogether.

He ran.

The moment he bolted, Ominis turned his head slightly, feeling the shift in the air. "Sebastian—"

Sebastian barely heard him. His boots pounded against the stone as he took off, pushing past every ache, every barrier, every thought except get there, get there, get there.

Sharp didn't stop him. He merely sighed, his usual dry patience evident in the exhale. "Go with him, Gaunt. Before he takes down a suit of armor."

Ominis didn’t hesitate.

He might not have been able to see the path ahead, but he had long since memorized the way. He strode forward swiftly, his wand gripped tightly in his hand as he moved with calculated precision, his long strides quickening as he followed the fading sound of Sebastian’s footsteps.

Sebastian took the stairs two at a time, nearly knocking over a third-year who barely managed to dodge out of his way. The grand halls blurred at the edges as he twisted through corridors, dodging ghosts, sidestepping distracted students, his mind singularly focused.

He didn't stop until he reached the heavy doors of the Hospital Wing, his chest heaving, his lungs burning from the sprint.

His hands slammed against the wood as he shoved them open.

He barely registered the startled sound from Madam Blainey.

He barely felt Ominis stepping up beside him, his own breath steadier, but his hands trembling.

All that mattered was the bed near the far window.

The one with you in it.

Pale, propped up on a stack of pillows, your face cast in soft candlelight. You looked fragile, as though the wrong touch might shatter you, but you were awake. Conscious.

Alive.

His chest tightened, his pulse hammering against his ribs. The air felt thick, clinging, but all he could focus on was you—your tired eyes fluttering at the commotion, the way your fingers twitched slightly as if reaching for something.

For them.

Ominis stepped forward first, his movement almost mechanical, like he was forcing himself to keep from running. His fingers found the edge of your bed before sliding hesitantly over the blanket, his hand searching for yours. The moment he found it, he exhaled sharply, his grip warm and firm but careful, as if grounding himself through you.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, voice so quiet it barely carried over the room. But there was something raw in it, something unsteady. He squeezed your hand once. Not too tight, but enough to reassure himself that you were real.

Your lips curved into the smallest of smiles. “I asked for you.”

Sebastian made a sound—half-laugh, half-exhale, his body finally catching up with everything his mind had been screaming since Professor Sharp had appeared in the common room. He ran a hand down his face, his muscles tight from the sprint, from the hours of waiting, from the sheer force of his relief.

“Merlin, you scared us,” he muttered, dropping heavily into the chair beside your bed, as if his legs couldn’t hold him any longer. His hands hovered, indecisive, before settling on the blanket beside yours, not quite touching, but close.

Ominis hadn’t let go of your hand.

“I—” You swallowed, your voice hoarse, the words slow. “I tried to be careful.”

Sebastian scoffed, his lips pulling into something between amusement and frustration. “Yeah, well, you failed spectacularly.”

A weak chuckle left you, but it quickly turned into a wince. Instantly, Ominis’ hold on you tightened, and Sebastian leaned forward, eyes flicking over you like he could somehow assess the damage himself.

“Alright?” Ominis asked.

You nodded slowly. “I think so.”

Sebastian’s gaze flickered toward Madam Blainey, who was still standing off to the side, arms crossed as she watched the reunion with a patient sort of tolerance. “How bad is it?” he asked, his voice lower, controlled, but carrying the weight of someone who wouldn’t tolerate anything but the truth.

Madam Blainey sighed. “A nasty curse, but nothing I couldn’t handle. She’s lucky she didn’t take the full force of it—”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched. “Lucky,” he echoed flatly, his fingers twitching against the blanket.

Your gaze softened. “Sebastian.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and the worry that had been simmering beneath his skin for hours finally cracked through. The relief, the anger at your recklessness, the helplessness of not being able to do anything—it all clawed at his ribs, pressing down, threatening to drown him.

But you were here.

And you had asked for them.

His fingers finally moved the last inch, his calloused fingertips brushing against the back of your hand before he curled his own around it. Not tight, not demanding, but just enough. Just enough to be sure.

“Don’t do that again,” he said, voice rougher than intended.

You hummed, exhausted but amused. “Can’t promise that.”

Sebastian huffed, shaking his head, but you ignored his concern, your eyes searching his face before flickering to Ominis.

"You came fast," you said, the words slow and deliberate, as if each one took effort.

Ominis exhaled a quiet breath, shaking his head slightly. “Of course we did,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Did you really think we wouldn’t?”

Sebastian let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Like we wouldn’t tear through half the bloody castle to get here.”

Your throat tightened. You had known, of course, that they would worry. That they would come. But hearing it—hearing the weight of their emotions laid bare—was different.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, meaning it.

Ominis let out a quiet sigh, his grip firm but careful. “Just… next time, don’t make us wait so long to know you’re alright.”

Sebastian scoffed. “Next time, don’t get cursed.”

You huffed a tired laugh. “You’re both acting like I did this on purpose.”

Sebastian shot you a look, but before he could argue, Madam Blainey stepped forward, cutting through the moment with a practiced sigh. “Alright, that’s quite enough excitement. She needs rest.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched like he wanted to protest, but Ominis, ever the voice of reason, stood from where he’d been perched at the edge of your bed. He didn’t let go of your wrist until the last possible second, his fingers lingering before finally releasing.

"Can we... can we at least stay?" Sebastian asked, his voice quieter than before, all the sharp edges dulled by something raw and unguarded.

Madam Blainey paused, arms still crossed as she regarded them with a look that teetered between exasperation and understanding. “She needs rest,” she repeated, though the firmness in her tone had softened.

Sebastian swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides before curling into fists. “I know,” he said, barely more than a breath. “But—"

"We’ll be quiet," Ominis added quickly.

Madam Blainey exhaled through her nose, studying them both. They had been in and out of this wing more times than she could count—detentions, duels, self-inflicted disasters. But this was different.

“Fine," she said at length, "But if either of you so much as breathe too loudly—”

“We won’t,” Ominis said immediately.

Madam Blainey rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. With a resigned sigh, she muttered something under her breath about 'stubborn boys' before turning on her heel.

Sebastian and Ominis barely waited for her office door to click shut before they settled in again.

Sebastian exhaled, sinking back into his chair with a tired sort of relief, rubbing a hand over his face. The tension in his shoulders hadn’t fully eased, but at least now he was here—close enough to reassure himself that you were breathing, that you were warm, that you were still with them.

Ominis pulled a second chair closer, the legs scraping softly against the floor. He angled himself toward you, his fingers brushing against the edge of the blanket before settling neatly in his lap.

"You should sleep," Ominis told you, his voice quieter now, gentle in a way that only came out in moments like these.

You hummed in response, brow furrowing with disagreement. “You just got here.”

Sebastian’s gaze flickered over your face, still too pale, still too worn. He could see the exhaustion in your half-lidded eyes, the way your breath came slow and measured, fighting the pull of exhaustion.

"We’re not going anywhere," he murmured.

Ominis nodded in quiet agreement, his fingers shifting slightly where they rested against the blanket, as if reaffirming their presence.

Finally, you let yourself close your eyes.

The boys didn’t speak again until the slow, steady rhythm of your breathing evened out, until the tension in your fingers slackened, until the last remnants of wakefulness slipped away.

Only then did Sebastian lean back with a quiet sigh.

Only then did Ominis unclasp his hands

"...Do you think she knows how reckless that was?" Sebastian asked, tracing the peaceful expression of your face.

Ominis hummed, tilting his head slightly, listening to the steady pattern of your breathing before answering. "Yes," he said quietly. "But you know she’ll do it again."

Sebastian let out a quiet, exasperated scoff, shaking his head. "She's an idiot."

"You say that as if you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing," Ominis murmured, arching a brow.

Sebastian had no counter to that, so he just huffed and crossed his arms, gaze fixed on you.

Silence stretched between them again, comfortable but pensive. Your face was relaxed now, the tension that had been there before melting away as sleep pulled you under.

Sebastian’s fingers tapped idly against his knee. His voice was softer when he spoke again. "Next time, she won’t be alone."

Ominis nodded. "No. She won’t."

It wasn’t a question.

It wasn’t a debate.

It was a promise.