Repercussions
Ominis stood at the entrance of the Headmaster’s office, the large golden Hippogriff statue towering above him, its maw open as if ready to unleash a roar. The tension in the air was palpable, mirroring the storm of emotions swirling within him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. The events of the past few hours had left him drained, but he knew he had to maintain his composure. The weight of Lodgok's sacrifice, the urgency of Theowen's condition, and the looming threat of Ranrok all pressed heavily on his shoulders.
Inside the hospital wing, Nurse Blainley was bustling around Theowen, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "How on earth did she get into such a state?" she had asked earlier, her voice sharp with worry. Despite his exhaustion, Ominis had managed to deflect her questions with vague answers, enough to buy some time until he could speak with the Headmaster and Professor Weasley.
Ominis had also tasked Sebastian with staying by Theowen’s side, knowing his friend’s fierce determination would ensure she was protected. Sebastian had protested, wanting to accompany Ominis, but had ultimately agreed, understanding the importance of their roles.
Now, as Ominis stood before the Hippogriff statue, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that settled in his stomach. He knew Theowen would have preferred to handle this without involving the authorities, but the situation had spiralled out of control. He whispered the password, and the statue began to move, revealing the spiral staircase that led to the Headmaster’s office. Each step he took echoed in the narrow space, amplifying the weight of his burden.
Finally, he reached the top. Ominis took a deep breath, ready to explain what they needed to hear and hoping they would understand the gravity of the situation without immediately resorting to summoning the Aurors.
"Ah, Mr. Gaunt," Headmaster Black intoned, his voice heavy with authority. "Took you long enough. I expect a thorough explanation on the matter at hand."
He could hear Professor Weasley humming in agreement. “Though it is unfortunate what has happened to Ms. Thorne, we need to know the extent of this danger—especially if it will concern the harm that might befall other students.”
Ominis nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "Yes, Headmaster, Professor Weasley. I'll explain everything, but please, understand that what we are dealing with is far beyond what any of us could have anticipated."
“Well, go on then!” Headmaster Black insisted impatiently, his tone dripping with irritation.
Ominis took a deep breath and began recounting the events, carefully omitting any mention of the Keepers below and Sebastian's tampering with the Dark Arts for answers. Instead, he focused on Ranrok and his quest for ancient power, explaining how the goblin leader had absorbed formidable magic and how the last repository of this power was hidden beneath Hogwarts, which made Theowen a target from the beginning.
As he spoke, he could see Headmaster Black's expression growing increasingly incredulous, his disdain evident. In contrast, Professor Weasley listened intently, her brow furrowed in thought as she absorbed every detail of Ominis’s story.
When Ominis finished, there was a moment of tense silence. Headmaster Black scoffed, turning to Professor Weasley with a sneer. “You can’t seriously believe this fairy tale. This new Muggle-born fifth year has been leading these poor boys around by the nose with her wild stories.”
Professor Weasley shot him a sharp look. “Headmaster, I believe there is more to this than meets the eye. The evidence points to something far more serious than mere storytelling.”
“Evidence?” Black retorted, his voice rising. “All I see is a bunch of overactive imaginations. This fifth year—what's her name, Theowen?—has clearly been spinning tales to get attention. And you, Gaunt, should know better than to be taken in by such nonsense. Especially when you are engaged with my daughter.”
Ominis sucked in his breath. He knew that his relationship with Theowen had grown very close ever since her arrival—he was aware of the rumours. But he had never thought much of it. When Anne was healthy and they used to play together, everyone started pining nonsensical rumours between him and Anne. And not once did Professor Black intervene, knowing it was just foolish gossip. He had always regarded Theowen while showing his actions to be just friends. Or were they? Somewhere deep down, he knew that was a lie. He didn't want to admit it because he knew no good would come from acknowledging his blossoming feelings toward her. And he sensed that she felt the same, though she kept him at arm's length. It frustrated him that he couldn't pinpoint the reason why, but he had no right to question it when he himself couldn't admit his feelings.
Ominis returned to the present, standing his ground, propriety be damned. A horde of goblins and dark wizards were preparing to attack Hogwarts, which could possibly lead to a war. "Headmaster, I assure you, this is not fabrication. Ranrok is a real threat, and he has already caused immense harm, not just to Theowen but to many others around Hogwarts. I have seen his power first-hand, and he is on his way here."
Professor Weasley nodded in agreement. “Headmaster, I believe it is wise to investigate this further and start setting up perimeter defences. If there is even a chance that what Ominis is saying is true, we cannot afford to ignore it.”
Black huffed, clearly irritated but unable to completely dismiss the gravity in their voices. “Fine,” he said reluctantly. “But if I find out this is some sort of elaborate prank or distraction, there will be severe consequences. I believe that I can relieve this menial task to you, Professor Weasley?”
He heard Professor Weasley sigh. The poor professor was already overburdened with so much work due to Black's ineptitude. She gave him a wry smile. "Of course, Headmaster. I shall get started right away."
The Headmaster gestured for her to get on with it. Ominis thought it was his cue to leave the room as well, but Black's wry voice stopped him. "Not you, Gaunt. I still have an ire left that we need to discuss."
Ominis paused, turning back to face the Headmaster, his heart sinking slightly. He had expected this, but it didn't make it any easier to face. "Yes, Headmaster?" he asked, keeping his voice steady.
Black's eyes narrowed as he studied Ominis. "You, Ominis Gaunt, are an heir of Slytherin, a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and should be setting a sterling example for your peers. Instead, you’ve been fraternizing with a fifth year—an orphan and a Muggle-born, no less—who, by all accounts, is a catalyst for chaos. I tire of cleaning up the messes you children create."
Ominis clenched his fists, struggling to maintain his composure. "Headmaster, with all due respect—"
"I have even turned a blind eye to your previous indiscretions, particularly concerning that Sallow girl," Black interrupted, his tone dripping with disdain. "I thought her illness would restore your sense of propriety, but instead, you have continued to disgrace your station. Must I remind you incessantly that our families are to be united in the near future?" Black's voice grew more menacing as he loomed over Ominis.
Ominis clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain calm. "No, Headmaster."
"Do you not realize the numerous favours I have extended to you by not informing your father of your transgressions?" Black sneered. "I could have easily alerted him, and he would have whisked you away from your half-blood companions. But, I am not that kind of man."
Ominis remained silent, realizing the gravity of his misjudgement. He had believed himself to be beyond the Headmaster's scrutiny. Black continued, "You are treading on perilously thin ice, Gaunt. Remember your place. This skirmish with the goblins is my *final* favour to you. If I catch even a hint of you consorting with that orphan girl again after the battle...consider your family fully informed. Are we clear?"
Ominis glared, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress his fury. "Yes, Headmaster."
"Excellent. You are dismissed," the Headmaster said, waving him away with a flick of his wrist. Ominis bowed his head slightly, then turned and left the office, his mind and heart in turmoil. How would he face Theowen once she awoke? For now, his priority was reaching the hospital wing to check on her condition.
The Hospital Wing exuded an eerie stillness, a stark contrast to the bustling corridors of Hogwarts. The long, dimly lit hall was lined with pristine white beds, each meticulously made with crisp linens. The faint smell of antiseptic mingled with the lingering aroma of the evening meal, creating an oddly sterile yet comforting atmosphere. The soft glow of enchanted lanterns cast a gentle, golden light, creating pools of warmth in the otherwise shadowy room.
The silence was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of parchment as Nurse Blainley scribbled away at her desk. Her quill scratched rhythmically against the paper, a soothing counterpoint to the stillness. The room was cool, the stone walls holding onto the chill of the night air, adding to the somber mood.
Theowen lay motionless on one of the beds, her pale skin almost translucent in the dim light. She looked fragile, like a delicate porcelain doll, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath the only sign of life. Her light blonde hair fanned out around her, a soft halo against the whiteness of the sheets.
Sebastian sat by her side, a vigilant sentinel in the quiet room. His eyes flicked between the book in his hands and Theowen’s serene face, the flickering lantern light casting long shadows across his features. The pages of the book rustled softly as he turned them, his focus divided between the text and the girl he was determined to guard. He didn’t know the details of Ominis’s conversation with the Headmaster, but he could sense it had been a difficult one. The fact that they were allowed to guard Theowen at all times underscored the seriousness of her situation and the potential threat she still posed to Ranrok.
The quietude of the Hospital Wing was punctuated by the occasional murmur of distant voices and the far-off echoes of students making their way to their dormitories. But here, in this secluded sanctuary, the world felt suspended, as if time itself had slowed in deference to Theowen’s condition.
Sebastian’s brow furrowed as he read, his mind racing with the events of the day and the weight of the responsibility he felt. The flickering light of the lantern highlighted the deep worry etched into his young face, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation they found themselves in.
It had been days since Ominis had faced the Headmaster, and the atmosphere at Hogwarts was charged with anticipation and unease. The looming threat of an attack from goblins and dark wizards had cast a pall over the castle. Strict curfews were in place, and the hallways, once filled with the carefree chatter of students, now echoed with the stern footfalls of patrolling Aurors, Prefects, Ghosts, and Professors. The magical creatures in Hogwarts’ possession had been relocated to a more secure area within the castle, and all classes held outside the school had been suspended.
Ominis was a frequent visitor, his demeanour more serious than ever. He and Sebastian had developed a silent understanding, a shared responsibility that required no words. Their focus was on Theowen, her recovery, and the impending threat. The unspoken bond between them grew stronger, forged in the crucible of their shared ordeal.
Classes continued within the safety of the castle, but the mood was somber. Students whispered in hushed tones, their eyes darting nervously to the windows and doors as if expecting an attack at any moment. The Professors, though outwardly composed, could not completely mask their anxiety. Lessons were taught with an urgency that belied the calm façade they tried to maintain.
Sebastian’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of echoing footsteps. He recognized them immediately as none other than Ominis. The boys had established a routine: one taking over for the other when classes were in session, or an Auror accompanying Nurse Blainley in the ward to guard Theowen. This constant vigilance had become their new normal.
Sebastian looked up as Ominis approached, the red blips from his wand guiding his way through the dimly lit ward. Ominis stopped at the foot of Theowen’s bed and shook his head, signalling that there had been no movements from either the dark wizards or the goblins. Sebastian let out a sigh of relief, closing his book.
He prepared to leave, knowing he needed a few hours of rest before taking over again. Ominis nodded to him, acknowledging the silent exchange. “I’ll take over,” Ominis said softly, his voice barely above a whisper to avoid disturbing Theowen.
Sebastian stood up, stretching his stiff limbs. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice tinged with fatigue.
Ominis took a seat by Theowen’s bedside, his hand lightly touching hers as he settled in for his shift. Sebastian paused at the doorway, casting one last glance back at his friends before heading to his dormitory. The weight of their shared responsibility was heavy, but it was a burden they bore together.
The Hospital Wing, though fortified and secure, felt like a fragile sanctuary amidst the chaos that threatened to spill over from the outside world. The gentle rise and fall of Theowen’s chest, her light blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, served as a reminder of what they were fighting for. Ominis listened to the rhythmic sounds of her breathing, a small comfort in the otherwise tense silence.
Ominis settled into his watch, his unseeing gaze fixed on Theowen. Through the sensitive magic of his wand, he could discern the faint traces of her unconscious form, each pulse of energy outlining her delicate features. He instinctively reached out, grasping her hand. It was cold to the touch, sending a shiver of worry through him. He began to caress her hand gently, his fingers tracing the contours of her pale skin.
“Just when will you wake?” he murmured, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. The words were heavy with a mix of frustration and longing. He leaned in closer, his other hand reaching to softly touch her cheek. The coolness of her skin against his palm made his heart clench.
“What has Ranrok done to you?” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. The anger and helplessness he felt surged through him, a fierce protectiveness intertwining with his growing feelings for her. The thought of the goblin’s cruel hands causing her harm was almost too much to bear.
He heard Nurse Blainey’s footsteps approaching, the sound steady and purposeful. Quickly, he let go of Theowen’s hand and returned to his seat, trying to appear composed. The nurse reached them and sighed, a weary sound that spoke of long days and even longer nights.
“She will go to St. Mungo’s after the battle—it has been decided,” she said, her tone firm yet sympathetic.
Before Ominis could protest, she continued, “It’s under my recommendation, Mr. Gaunt. We do not have the resources here to care for a comatose patient—we don’t even know what infliction caused her to be this way.”
Ominis sighed heavily, feeling the weight of her words. “I understand, Nurse Blainey,” he replied, his voice tinged with resignation.
The nurse nodded, offering a small, reassuring smile. “I’m going to turn in for the night. You should also get some rest.”
Without further words, she turned and walked towards a nearby door that led to her quarters. The door closed with a soft click, the lock echoing in the now empty wing. Ominis was left alone with his thoughts, the silence amplifying the tension and worry gnawing at him.
Ominis returned to his routine, his mind plagued with worry. Though he expected the same monotonous pattern, a rustle of sheets broke the silence. His heart skipped a beat as he realized it was Theowen stirring.
He blinked, his eyes wide with a mix of emotions—relief, excitement, and guilt for not saving her in time. Countless questions swirled in his mind: Why hadn’t she asked for help? What had Ranrok done to her? But as Theowen sat up in the dim light, he paused. Something felt off.
“Theowen?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he leaned closer.
She turned towards him, her light blonde hair falling messily around her face. Her eyes, usually so vibrant, seemed distant and unfocused before they turned into a sinister crimson glow. She blinked slowly, as if struggling to orient herself.
“Theowen?” he called out once more gently, reaching out to touch her hand.
She recoiled slightly, her movements stiff and mechanical. Ominis frowned, his worry deepening. “What happened to you?” he asked, his voice trembling.
Theowen’s eyes finally met his, but they were sinister, a darkness swirling within them that sent a chill down Ominis’s spine. It was the same dreadful feeling he had when Ranrok stared at him.
Immediately on guard, Ominis summoned his wand, his teeth clenched. “Who are you? And what have you done with her?”
Theowen’s lips twisted into a cruel smile, so unlike her usual gentle demeanor. When she spoke, it was not her voice but a multitude of others, all combining into one terrifying chorus. “You must be the suitor.”