Fragments of Time

Ominis was reading his book back in the Map Chamber, waiting for Theowen to return from her first trial. He noticed that the triptychs were empty; it seemed that Rackham refused to speak to him unless Theowen was around, likely due to a lingering mistrust. Ominis sighed, still fatigued from the previous night's adventure. He could only imagine how she must've felt at this very moment. He had managed to wake up at the crack of dawn, not wasting a single minute to go to the Dining Hall to grab some breakfast before heading down to the Map Chamber.

As he settled into his reading, Ominis couldn't help but feel a slight sense of relief that he and Sebastian were not on speaking terms since the incident in the Undercroft. This distance allowed him to avoid Sebastian's probing questions about breaking curfew and sneaking back out at the crack of dawn. Despite the peaceful surroundings, his mind was restless, filled with concern for Theowen and anticipation for what lay ahead.

The silence of the chamber was punctuated only by the faint hum of residual magic and the rustling of pages as Ominis turned them. He couldn't help but replay the events of the previous night, the battles they fought and the secrets they uncovered. His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden shift in the air, a subtle indication that someone—or something—was approaching. He closed his book, gripping his wand tighter, ready for whatever might come next.

Theowen Apparated back, and Ominis sensed a spike in magic before it quickly dissipated. He heard her breathing raggedly as he rushed towards her, trying to prop her up. "Are you alright?" he questioned, his voice laced with concern.

Theowen was about to reply, but they were promptly interrupted when Professor Rackham appeared. This time, another presence came forth. "What have we here?" said a new voice, echoing through the chamber.

Ominis turned towards the sound, his wand still at the ready. The new arrival was another portrait, a man younger than Percival Rackham but not by much, dressed in Tudorian clothing and sporting a bulging stomach. "Professor Charles Rookwood at your service. Has someone completed the first trial?" the man spoke.

Theowen nodded, exhausted, her body riddled with cuts while her hair was coated with soot, a reminiscence of the battle she had just experienced. Ominis couldn't help but be reminded that her appearance was the same as when she appeared in the Undercroft—though more fatigued. Without letting her rest, the Professors continued their explanation of the artifact she had found in the trials and how she needed to safeguard it, as it would be crucial in the future, though they wouldn't reveal further details.

"Are you able to tell me about the next trial?" Theowen asked between ragged breaths.

Ominis whipped his head towards her, his voice laced with concern. "Theowen, you can't think—You're in need of rest!"

She grumbled, knowing that he was right, before he continued, his voice softer than before. "We have morning classes approaching, and missing them might cause you more trouble than it's worth."

She sighed, slightly annoyed that Ominis was the voice of reason during her precarious thoughts. He was right; at the pace she was going, she might be killed by an ordinary Pensieve Sentinel before she ever got a chance to complete her mission.

"The young man is right," Rookwood called out, before Percival interjected, "I need to speak with Charles Rookwood regarding the urgent situation involving the Goblins before proceeding."

Charles Rookwood looked towards his colleague with concern. "Goblins?"

The Professor smiled before turning back to him. "We will speak of this matter later."

The two agreed and said their last greetings before disappearing from their respective portraits.

"Are you hurt?" Ominis asked again, patting her all over, earning hisses as he felt the tears in her clothing. Theowen couldn't help but think Ominis reminded her of a brooding hen checking on her chicks. She chuckled, "Ominis, I'm perfectly fine, just a few bruises here and there. Nothing a simple Wiggenweld couldn't fix," she reassured, summoning another bottle of Wiggenweld and chugging the elixir to the last drop. He could hear the sizzle indicating that her wounds were closing up, which made him heave a sigh of relief.

"Theowen, that was very careless of you. Wanting to jump into another trial. What on Merlin's name were you thinking when you could barely even stand!?" he exclaimed, his voice echoing in the chamber.

She flinched as he raised his voice. "I-I'm sorry. I was so worried about Ranrok gaining the upper hand that I—"

"At this rate, you'll perish before you accomplish anything. Let's head back to the common room!" he cut her off, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the stairs.

"O-Ominis, wait!" she protested, but he was determined.

"I'll make up an excuse to cover for you. You just focus on getting some rest," he declared, not wanting to wait for her to protest further. He felt guilty that he shouldn't have left her alone, sensing her condition was even worse than when he met her in the Undercroft.

As they made their way through the dimly lit passageways, Ominis was resolute in ensuring Theowen got the rest she desperately needed. They navigated the stairs and corridors with a sense of urgency, his grip on her hand firm yet gentle. Despite her exhaustion, Theowen felt a sense of comfort in his presence, knowing he would take care of her.

Despite her exhaustion, Theowen felt a sense of comfort in his presence, knowing he would take care of her. She pulled him closer, stopping him. "I'm perfectly alright, just a tad bit tired, that's all," she reassured him before continuing, "We'll head to morning classes. I don't want to raise any more suspicions with both the Professors and students than what's necessary." She held his hand tightly, pleading with him to stop since Ominis using his name around for her sake would raise more unwanted attention, making it harder for her to move in secret in the future.

After a long silent pause, with Theowen's heart beating rapidly, he finally relented with a sigh. "Alright. But at least fix your clothes and eat something," he said, summoning a pack of sandwiches he had nabbed from the Dining Hall.

Her eyes widened in surprise, earning Ominis's perplexed look. "What's the matter? Do you not like sandwiches?"

Realizing her blunder, she quickly took the snacks, stuffing them into her mouth while fixing her uniform—repairing the tears and cuts. She shook her head, "No, I'm just surprised, that's all."

"Why are you so surprised? Do you think me so cold as to not at least assist a friend in need?" he questioned, finding it offensive that she would think such of him.

"N-no, I'm just h-happy...that's all...," she stammered, feeling overwhelmed by his concern and kindness.

Overwhelmed by his concern and kindness, Theowen watched as Ominis turned swiftly, his expression unreadable. "L-let's not tarry and head to class," he proclaimed before swiftly walking ahead. She was left even more puzzled, wondering what she had done this time to offend him.

Realizing that he was already waiting for her at the top of the stairs, she quickly dashed to catch up with him. They walked briskly together towards their first class of the day, the silence between them filled with unspoken questions.

Theowen found it impossible to keep her eyes open, using the last remaining bits of her energy during Professor Binns' history class. The classroom was filled with the steady droning of the ghostly professor’s voice, devoid of any enthusiasm or inflection, which only added to the irony of his undead state. His spectral form floated before the class, reciting the dry details of Sir Affpuddle, the Waving Knight, with the same down-trodden tone he used for every other lecture.

She noticed other students nodding off around her, the monotony of Binns' voice lulling them into a stupor. Even Ominis, who sat beside her, was struggling to stay awake, yawning and blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to ward off sleep.

Despite her best efforts, Theowen's head began to droop. Her eyelids grew heavier with each passing second, and before she realized it, her head hung low. She braced herself for the inevitable thump as her forehead would collide with the desk. Instead, something warm and soft cushioned the impact, preventing the harsh jolt she had expected.

She felt a gentle pressure on her shoulder and realized that Ominis had placed his hand between her head and the desk. The warmth of his hand and the subtle rise and fall of his breathing were strangely comforting. Exhaustion washed over her in waves, and she couldn't help but be lulled to sleep, the droning voice of Professor Binns fading into the background.

The Ministry office was a chaotic yet functional space, a testament to the demanding nature of it's work. The scent of ink and parchment permeated the air, mingling with the faint aroma of old wood and the subtle, almost comforting, mustiness of well-used files. Papers were scattered everywhere, covering the desks and spilling onto the floor, a sea of notes, reports, and official documents. The walls were adorned with various maps and charts, pinned with red strings connecting different points of interest and articles clipped from the Daily Prophet.

One particularly large board dominated the room, displaying photos and names of the victims from the string of murders and curses plaguing Whitechapel, London. The victims, mostly Muggle women with one pureblood witch among them, stared back from their pictures, their fates intertwined in a grim pattern that Theowen and Ominis were trying desperately to decipher. Theowen was methodically placing cards on the board, linking the victims to one another through their backgrounds, last known whereabouts, and other connections. She worked with a furrowed brow, her concentration absolute as she pieced together the puzzle.

Ominis, on the other hand, was meticulously connecting locations with red string, tying them to news articles and witness statements. His fingers moved with precision, guided by the feedback from his wand, which echoed the texture and distance of each pin. The tension in the room was palpable, a mixture of frustration and urgency hanging thick in the air.

"I still believe the killer is targeting these women based on their social ties," Ominis argued, his voice edged with exasperation. "Each victim had some connection to influential figures in the Wizarding world. It can't be a coincidence."

Theowen, equally on edge, shot back, "And I maintain that it's not just about social ties. There's a pattern in the curses used, a specific sequence that suggests a ritualistic element. The pureblood witch being among the victims breaks your theory wide open. She had no connections to Muggle society whatsoever."

Their debate had been going on for a while, the stress of the case wearing on both of them. Ominis's normally composed demeanour was fraying at the edges, and Theowen's patience was wearing thin. They were both desperate for a breakthrough, knowing that the longer it took to solve this case, the more lives were at risk.

The room, with its chaotic assembly of clues and evidence, mirrored their fraught state of mind. Every piece of paper, every photograph, every pin and string represented a lead, a possibility, a desperate attempt to bring order to the madness.

"How about an intermission?" Ominis suggested after a long silence, their eyes fixed on the chaotic array of information in front of them.

Theowen looked up, intrigued. "What do you have in mind?"

"Dinner?" he proposed.

Her brows cocked as she glanced out the window. It was late, and the rain was pouring down in relentless sheets. The only places likely to be open at this hour were taverns, and she knew all too well that they didn't offer the best sustenance. The thought of trudging through the horrid weather for some cold, tasteless stew and a tangy beer made her sigh with dread. "I'll pass," she said, even as her stomach betrayed her with a rumble. "You go on ahead," she added with a smile, turning her attention back to the board.

Ominis nodded, understanding her reluctance. He summoned his coat with a flick of his wand and left the office promptly. The quiet of the room, punctuated only by the steady drumming of rain against the window, was both a comfort and a weight. She felt the strain of their disagreement still hanging in the air, but also the shared determination to solve this case. Left alone in the dimly lit office, the weight of the investigation pressed down on her. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind and piece together the connections they might have missed. Every detail mattered, every connection was a potential breakthrough.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed through the now empty hall, their sound growing louder as it approached the office. The scent of warm food began to permeate the air, a welcome contrast to the ink and parchment that dominated the room. A few minutes later, Ominis reappeared, much to Theowen's surprise. He carried a medium brown paper sack, its sides slightly damp from the rain. "I thought you were getting dinner?" she questioned, her eyebrows rising in curiosity.

Ominis smiled, his clothes drenched from the downpour. He cast a drying spell on himself, the water droplets evaporating into mist before he sent his coat to the rack with a flick of his wand. As he approached his desk, he cleared a space, moving a slew of papers to the side. Some sheets fluttered to the floor, making soft rustling sounds.

"I did," he replied, placing the sack on the desk.

Theowen watched as he carefully unpacked the sack, revealing an assortment of wrapped food items. The warm, savoury aromas filled the room, making her stomach rumble even louder.

"Where did you manage to get this?" she asked, both impressed and grateful.

"There's a small bakery a few blocks away that always stays open late," Ominis explained, unwrapping a loaf of freshly baked bread. "They had a few things left, so I picked up what I could."

Theowen smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. She picked up a piece of bread, still warm to the touch, and took a bite. The soft, fluffy texture and rich flavour were a stark contrast to the cold stew she had been dreading.

"Thank you," she said, her voice soft with appreciation. They spent their time in silence, each eating their own food in comfort. After a while, Theowen poured some strong tea. The tea ladies had left a long time ago, but they always ensured refreshments were ready for those choosing to stay overtime.

As she poured, Theowen observed Ominis, who seemed lost in his thoughts. She realized that ever since they had started working together, she had never once seen him heading home. He was always either in his office or out chasing leads. She couldn't help but wonder if he had a home to begin with. Every time she called it a night and greeted him the next day, there he was, seemingly never leaving.

Does his family ever voice their complaints? Especially his wife? she wondered. Before she lost contact with Ominis, she knew from Sebastian that he was engaged to the Headmaster's daughter. By now, she would be of age, and they would have been married long ago.

She hesitated, then finally spoke up, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Ominis, do you ever go home?"

He looked up from his food, slightly taken aback by the question. "Occasionally," he replied, his tone nonchalant, "What brought such a inquiry?"

Theowen shrugged. "Just finding it bizarre that I almost never see you heading home. Don't you have anyone waiting for you?"

He stared in her general direction, brows knotted in confusion. "If you mean my owl, Alaric, then I assure you he is very well taken care of. Why? What have you heard?"

Even though his family had fallen into ruin, the Gaunts were still part of the Sacred 28, and gossip and rumours continued to swirl about his family, mainly his elder brother.

Theowen leaned on the side of the table, tearing her bread for a bite. "Nothing really. Last we talked, you were engaged. I just assumed that naturally you'd be married by now."

Ominis chuckled at her assumption. "Well, the last time we spoke was more than seven years ago. I don't know what you've heard, but my family had fallen on hard times ever since Marvolo took over. Naturally, any engagement with the Blacks fell through," he explained pointedly. "Been living under a rock, I see."

Theowen scoffed at his remark, her hand on her hip as she huffed indignantly. "I'll let you know, _ser_, that I have been preoccupied with my work, so much so that I haven't been in this country for a long time."

"You always did have a penchant for adventures," he said with a sad smile, and Theowen could tell he was reminiscing about their time together with Sebastian during their fifth year.

"It was predestined, I assure you," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is it really?" Ominis said, his brows cocked, suspicion arising. Theowen realized she had never told him about her Ancient Magic abilities—only Sebastian knew. She could have sworn she told Ominis, though. Did she?

"I always wondered why you and Sebastian were always getting into trouble while I had to nanny you both from the Professor's ire," he said with a chuckle, his fingers crossed on his chest as he relaxed in his chair. "I always wondered what exactly you have that made Sebastian so insistent on bringing you along in the search for Anne's cure."

Theowen shrugged, trying to maintain her composure. "I'm not sure. Maybe I am just that charming," she joked, hoping to deflect Ominis's curiosity.

He smiled, though his eyes still held a trace of suspicion. "Charming, yes. But there was always something more to you, Theowen. Something... different."

She met his gaze, her expression light but her mind racing. "Different? How so?"

"Sebastian was always secretive about it," Ominis continued, leaning forward slightly. "It was as if what you have gives him a push on being insistent on Anne's cure. At one point, he told me that you were the answer."
Theowen couldn't help but gasp. She felt something was really wrong with the situation. Her instincts kicked in, and she looked around haphazardly, only to find that far in the window across from her, she could dimly see her own reflection smirking towards her, eyes glinting viciously crimson.

"Theowen? Is something wrong?" Ominis questioned, his brows lined with worry as he noticed her silence. She whipped her head towards him. "N-no," she stammered, before sighing and raking the strands of hair out of her face. "Maybe I'm just a tad tired. What were you saying?"

"We were speaking about Sebastian and his search for a cure for Anne," he said as he grasped her hand suddenly, out of the blue. "You're sweating... Are you sure you're alright?"

Theowen was about to reply, but she was frozen. The hand that had grasped hers softly suddenly gripped her tighter, earning a yelp. Her heart pounded as she tried to process what was happening. The room seemed to grow colder, the air thick with an oppressive silence. She glanced at Ominis, but his features began to distort, morphing into a twisted, grotesque version of herself.

To her horror, Ominis's appearance contorted to that of her own but more sinister, crimson-like lightning slithering around her. You could have saved her if only you took the power as your own... The sinister whispers returned, telling her half-truths of what could be.

Her own voice, twisted and malicious, echoed in her mind. "Why do you resist us? We can help one another."

The room darkened, shadows creeping in from the corners, enveloping them in a chilling embrace. The air grew dense, almost suffocating. She struggled to break free, her heart pounding in her chest. "No! You'll corrupt me! Just like what you did to Ranrok!"

The twisted reflection sneered, its voice dripping with malice. "Do you really think you'll end up like that pathetic goblin?" The reflection guffawed, causing Theowen to flinch in fear. It sat on the table, legs crossed, playing with her hair. "He was never born with such powers, so it's only natural he would resist. But you... Imagine what we could become! We would be free! You can save whoever you want! The world will bow before you! Isn't that what you want?"

Theowen was about to deny with all her might, but deep down, she feared the reflection did not lie. The shadows around her seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy, whispering dark promises in a language she couldn't understand. With such power, she could take away Anne's pain as she willed it, while breaking societal norms through brute strength. Everything she ever wanted could be easily granted to her. But her conscience knew that taking the easy route would create unbearable consequences she had yet to foresee. Theowen was afraid, afraid she was being lulled by the sweet whispers of her reflection.

The reflection's eyes glowed a deep crimson, and its voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "We see potential in you. We have chosen you. We love you," it whispered, its appearance changing to Ominis once more. The transformation was grotesque, the reflection's features warping and twisting in a nightmarish fashion. She clutched her eyes closed, trying her best to resist. Then the reflection pulled away and disappeared, leaving her with a final message.

We are patient. You will need us, very soon.