Chapter 2
Divination was a startling affair, slightly worrisome as Professor Onai eyed him over the lips of teacups and their prophecies. Typically, Henry was curious about the goings of Divination and what he could possibly consider about the universe through the course. But every time he looked into the cup, eyes blinking slowly now that the morning rush adrenaline had faded, he only saw inky blotches. Or maybe those were just the spots in the corners of his vision. He couldn’t and wouldn’t be sure, as Professor Onai pulled him aside just before class ended.
“Henry, I cannot help but notice you look tired, very much so.” Henry hummed, rocking back a bit on his heels as Professor Onai seemed to grapple with whatever she was trying to say. She pursed her lips, placing down the numerous drawings students had made(depictions of what they perceived in the teacups) and turning her full attention to Henry. “I… have also noticed that my daughter seemed quite sleepless this morning at breakfast as well.”
Henry’s shoulders locked but he forced himself to continue his rocking motion. If there was a visible change in his demeanor, it would give something away. Did she know? The main question whirling around the back of his mind. But there was no way she knew. Henry knew nobody got a good look at him when they were leaving, and he was pretty sure Natty was quick enough on her escape. Besides, it's not like Natty had delivered the evidence to the officer(Henry forgot her name) in Hogsmeade yet. Did someone see them fly in on the hippogriffs?
“Henry, I am going to ask you a question, and I would greatly appreciate an honest answer as one of your teachers and as a mother,” Professor Onai told him, her arms crossed over her desk and her eyes studying. Henry swallowed, nodding. “If you and my daughter are… engaging in a romantic relationship, despite being young, I would see it fit for you to ask me first, as it is polite-.”
A laugh burst out of Henry once the words being said to him caught up in his brain. He felt slightly bad as Professor Onai looked just as startled, eyes wide and mouth open, her expression caught somewhere between incredulous and surprise. Henry tried to get the laughter to stop so he could explain to his poor Professor that what she assumed was certainly not the situation, but the thought of it only made him wheeze for a moment(perhaps the lack of sleep was affecting him more than he would have guessed).
“Pro-” he took a deep breath and let it out, “Professor Onai, I mean no disrespect to you, but you’re very mistaken.” Henry smiled as he fully pulled himself upright, relaxed in a way he hadn’t felt all morning for whatever reason. “Professor, Natty and I aren’t in any courtship. We’re just friends. Good friends, I feel, or I hope we are.”
If anything, Professor Onai looked a little sheepish, but it didn’t last long as she sat back in her chair. A smile worked across her face as she seemed to consider Henry’s words.
“I see,” she started, “I have to say it is a bit of a relief. You are a fine young man, Henry, but I feel Natty is much too young, and so are you, for serious relationships.” Henry waved at hand at her words, still smiling over the mishap.
“No, Professor, I completely understand. I’m glad to have Natty as a friend, but just as a friend. We study together,” he explained(which wasn’t entirely a lie) before looking away from her eyes to appear flustered(though he truly was a bit). “I can see how that would come off as… what you thought it was. We just lost track of time; truthfully, Professor, I think both of us are just too stubborn to stop working once we start.” Professor Onai easily took his words as an acceptable alibi, nodding to what he was saying and expressing agreement and relief. He wasn’t offended in the slightest that she was relieved he hadn’t entered a courtship with Natty. If anything, Henry was more relieved that they hadn’t been found out.
“Perhaps you should ask your Professor Sharp for something to help with sleep,” Professor Onai called to Henry as he worked his way around the circular form of desks in the Divination classroom, attempting to get to that very class. Henry, however, paused by the exit, looking up at her with furrowed brows. She waved him off, so he took what she said for what it was and left.
Potions Class was just as, if not more, stressful. Professor Sharp had already pulled him aside once in the school year, asking about injuries and potions of Dreamless sleep(his younger brothers always did taunt him because he looked like the undead after a sleepless night). The man seemed like a cat zeroed in on a mouse every time Henry entered his class, assessing and watching, waiting perhaps.
Henry heavily respected and admired Professor Sharp, truly. The man was diligent, observant, cool, and in control. He was everything Henry probably would’ve wanted to be in a man. The parts of Henry that he lacked but needed. Despite these ‘bossy’ habits that his peers complain about the Potions Professor, Henry finds that the man does genuinely care for his students. Professor Sharp means well, Henry knows, but he just can’t let the retired auror know what he was doing outside of school hours. Like he said, the man was diligent, observant, and most definitely already suspicious of Henry. Every conversation felt like Professor Sharp already knew something, and he was just getting Henry to confirm it, but Henry didn’t know what it was the man knew.
It made him wary.
This time, however, Professor Sharp only stopped him after class for a couple of minutes. He handed Henry a foggy-grey potion, responding to Henry’s eyebrow raise with an eyebrow raise of his own. “I don’t give you assignments due in a week for you to do them entirely overnight, you know,” he admonishes Henry, who has the good graces to appear just a little sheepish over the accusation. “I don’t know why you’ve been missing sleep and-” Sharp cut Henry off just as he was opening his mouth, “I’m not asking you to tell me.” A hand rested against Henry’s shoulder, holding tightly, grounding him. “But if there is something more pressing that is keeping you awake, I would ask that you speak to someone about it. I will certainly elect myself as your first choice, but it’s alright if you don’t feel the same way. I’m sure Professor Garlick would be pleased to lend an ear.”
Oh, Henry knows. Two days after an Ashwinder had broken his ankle, Professor Garlick asked if they could meet in the afternoon after classes. Henry did his best to placate her, but she was now in the same category as Professor Sharp in Henry’s mind.
Suspicious and Probably Knows Something(but doesn’t understand the gravity of what they think they know).
“I’m alright, Professor,” Henry nodded to the man.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Professor Sharp shot back, squeezing Henry’s shoulder one more time before dropping his hand. “Henry,” oh, first name, “if there is something… wrong. Something happening that you feel like you can’t tell anyone,” Henry thickly swallowed, eyes trained on Professor Sharp’s collar. “I want you to know that I am in the business of helping my students even if that means keeping confidentiality, but only if they let me help them, understand?”
“Yes, Professor,” Henry replied, slightly touched. Like maybe he could believe the man for a moment, like he really could, take a seat in this classroom and say, ‘Y’know, Professor, I am under dire stress because I’m being hunted for predatory means by a revolutionary goblin and his merciless mercenary.’ But then again, the possibility of Professor Sharp, under good intentions, stopping Henry from doing the Keeper’s Trials and searching for a way to keep the goblin from causing further damage was too high. Henry couldn’t afford a moment of comfort over the risk of one adult who decided to take this to the wizard government(locking Henry from it) or, even worse, simply didn’t believe the threat was as big as Henry and Professor Fig had seen(he remembers Professor Sharp’s conversation with Professor Fig that day when Sharp shut Fig down after a sentence or two).
Sharp eyed him but sent Henry off with a, “Perhaps get some rest this afternoon. I’m sure your assignments can wait.”
Yeah, rest is a prophesied activity done by humans when they need replenishment. The thing people do when they lie down all comfy and be still for hours upon hours until they open their eyes and feel good. Sounds lovely even when put like that.
Henry’s eyes glaze over the world as he retraces his steps back to his Common Room. Perhaps the sound will help him doze on the couch if he’s lucky. But truly, some part of him just didn’t want to be alone with the cavernous jaw of Exhaustion that held Henry’s head in its maw. Ready to snap his neck and-.
Yeah, he needed sleep.
❈✢❈
Seven hours later, Henry was working his way down to the dungeons, his head a little less heavy than it had been. He held his bag close to him, the weight a comfort, a shield, after the long day(days, really) he’d had. Sitting on the couch, he’d been loosely conversing with Natty in the Common Room(mostly joking about her mother's previous assumptions) around 3pm. Before he knew it, Natty had been taking over most of the conversation as Henry’s body succumbed to sleep. It was terribly kind of her to stay until he fell asleep. He really owed her some baked treats before this year was over.
Her kindness didn’t stop his eyes from snapping open around three hours later, arms aching as he lifted them. Upon gathering some schoolwork to do, bleariness blinked away from his eyes as the same haunting message from the night before rang in his ears. Now, he was sneaking down to meet Sebastian and, supposedly, Ominis, his only slightly less heavy head being a terrible companion.
Well, we can’t win them all, can we?
Henry’s steps hastened when he spotted brown hair and crossed arms near the entryway of the stairs. His eyes spelled muddy mischief, and for a second, Henry was struck with the same Sebastian he met at the beginning of the year. Round grin, charming arrogance, and a knack for breaking into places he was explicitly told he wasn’t allowed to go in - if only for fun.
“Henry! You’re here, brilliant!” A smile split across Sebastian’s face when Henry raised a hand in greeting. The sight of it had warmth flooding Henry’s chest. He still couldn’t get used to someone who wasn’t family, mind you, smiling whenever he came within their line of sight. It wasn’t something he ever wanted to get used to. To have someone smile at you just because you’re there because you exist with them, made some of Henry’s exhaustion run away. Sebastian looked genuinely pleased to see him.
“I am,” Henry replied, a small smile creeping upon his lips before realizing what he was there for. “What happened with Ominis?”
“He’s as stubborn as we know him to be, that’s for sure. But he agreed to hear us out,” Sebastian stated, almost giddy. Like he was reporting about the situation. “He’s just down the hall, near the corner.” Henry nodded for him to lead the way, and Sebastian began heading towards Henry’s right, down the hall as he said. “Make sure to keep an ear and an eye out for anybody around,” he murmured before a smile broke across his face. “Not like that hasn’t stopped us before.” Henry couldn’t help but be amused when thinking about their first rule-breaking adventure.
“Well,” Henry drawled a little, glancing at Sebastian. “If we’re being honest, it has. We got caught by Peeves.” Sebastian’s sudden scowl made Henry chuckle.
“Oh, that damn poltergeist, he doesn’t count. He’s a cheater.” Henry’s laughter raised a little in volume. He held a hand across his mouth to try and keep them quiet, and his head tipped back slightly. He really was starting to get a bit delirious from the lack of sleep, but it wasn’t anything to worry about at the moment.
“How is that cheating, Sebastian?” Henry asked, just to rile the other boy up. The stone braziers of fire lit up the dungeons, crackling in time with their footsteps. Both sounds bounced off the walls, and Henry briefly wondered if the dungeons had been made to be echo-y on purpose. Probably because some mischievous Slytherin’s were eager to cause a ruckus.
“He can move through walls and fly. I count that as an unfair advantage, dear Henry.”
Pretending was a dangerous thing. It was too close to denial to be healthy if not done in harmless moderation. And yet, Henry was, once again, pretending everything about their world was different. Pretending that they were just two mates, walking along the halls of Hogwarts, going in for a bit of trouble before going to bed again, waking up to another easy day. He could pretend Sebastian wanted to see him for some harmless fun, not because he needed something of Henry at the moment. In the short walk from staircase to one, Ominis Gaunt, he does pretend that getting caught for a bit of rule-breaking is the most dangerous thing in his life. And the thought brings with it some giddy ball, causing fingers to twitch and eyes to swivel around in secrecy.
Is this what Sebastian feels every time they do something like this? The thought nearly has Henry halting when it blossoms. Because… well- is that what Sebastian thinks all of this is, on a surface level? Just a little rule-breaking, but it’ll all be okay in the end; just a couple of dangerous stunts, but nothing too bad could happen; maybe a duel or two with goblins, but surely it wouldn’t all be for nothing, so we’re safe. These thoughts made Henry reconsider how he was going about this when they finally made it to Ominis.
Previously, Henry had been running under the assumption that Sebastian knew about the dangers he was opening himself up to, that he understood the near-obsessive mindset he was falling down, but he just dismissed it under arrogance. Now, sure, it was undoubtedly foolishness, but perhaps Sebastian truly hadn’t allowed himself a moment to stop and consider that this was dangerous. Because perhaps once he did, reason and common sense would slow his search and, in Sebastian’s mind, he couldn’t allow that.
Henry put these contemplations aside as Sebastian nodded to Ominis and sent Henry off with a “Good luck, mate. You know how he is.” Henry agreed, but he might have a different approach than Sebastian.
“Of course, he would drag you into this, Henry,” Ominis hissed. “Perhaps I should simply consult with you every time Sebastian is thinking about danger.” Henry winced a little at the sudden hostility, unsure of what to say in the face of Ominis Gaunt’s wrath.
“I… sorry?” It was really all Henry was capable of.
Ominis sighed, “No, no,” he pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, and Henry somehow felt out of his depth about what to do here. So he waited. “It’s not- it’s fine. Sebastian just doesn’t understand the dangers he is so eager to run headfirst into. When I give him my answer, I should expect him to send you in to try to persuade me.”
“Actually,” Henry spoke quietly for a few reasons. “I was looking to talk about this with you first.”
“...talk about it with me.” It was a question, Henry thinks, but it didn’t sound like one.
“Yeah,” Henry hummed, leaning against a pillar to Ominis’ right. “I keep hearing Sebastian’s side of it, his feelings on the matter of which he’s made terribly clear,” Ominis huffs at the last bit, and Henry feels like he’s getting some traction here. “But, I want your opinion on it, truly. Why is this a bad idea?”
Ominis was quiet momentarily, and Henry let him have his quiet moment. It only lasted about a minute before Ominis’ shoulders fell for a moment, and he inclined his head towards Henry.
“Alright, we can talk about it; at least one of my friends wants to hear me out.” Henry jolted, eyebrows raised, and Ominis frowned, no doubt hearing the sudden movement. “What? Is something wrong?”
“No,” Henry cleared his throat, swallowing, “no, I was- you-... you consider us friends?” Indeed, Henry had considered Ominis his friend; he had ever since Ominis stopped being so barbed and started being around Henry simply because Henry was there to be around. But, this was the first time Henry heard Ominis admit to it verbally and so matter-of-fact.
Ominis looks pensive, lips downturned. “Of course I do,” he began slowly. “Did you think I spent time with you just because of Sebastian?” Well… maybe? Just a little, yes. Henry’s own moment of quiet must have said something similar because Ominis makes a sound similar to a little huff of amusement. “Henry, I was under the impression you were smarter than that.”
“What gave you that impression?” Henry squeaked. Whatever he could do to hear Ominis laugh, he’d do it. Just like Sebastian’s moments of genuine rest, Ominis should have more moments of genuine laughter and enjoyment. Henry would probably kill for them to have more of those moments.
“Well, now that you’re not being a bit of an idiot,” sounded about right, “and you know that we are friends.” The tone shifted slightly more severely. “What do you want to know about all this?” A good question, Henry wasn’t sure where to start asking things. So, he began with the whole purpose of this conversation.
“Why are you against it? Truly?” Ominis’ answer was quick.
“Because I don’t believe anything to do with the Dark Arts or Salazar Slytherin can bring about good. I’ve seen Dark Magic,” Ominis admits, his voice low and somber. “I’m sure Sebastian has told you.” Henry shook his head before feeling stupid for doing so.
“No, I didn’t want to know anything personal about you unless you were the one telling me.” Ominis seemed surprised by this, eyes widening.
“Well- uhm, I appreciate that, Henry. That’s very kind.” Ominis’ words reminded Henry of his own. The slightest bit of human consideration means the world of kindness. The idea that Ominis was similar to Henry in that regard made the Gryffindor ache. “To elaborate, my… My family are descendants of Salazar Slytherin,” Yes, Henry knew that, “and they believe in blood purity and hierarchy and all those horrible traditions. One of those horrible traditions,” Ominis’ face screwed up slightly, the word ‘traditions’ sounding rehearsed, “was encouraging the use of the Dark Arts. They- I-...” he went quiet, eyes flickering. Henry wasn’t sure physical comfort would be received well, so he hummed.
“You don’t have to tell me Ominis. But know that I believe in the person that you are now, not the things that you may have done.” It’s how Henry wishes he will be judged, if he’s still around to be considered after this is all over.
“You don’t know what I have done,” Ominis murmurs.
“If it’s caused a reaction like this by simply speaking about it, then I am certain that you wanted no part in it.”
“...You’re right, I didn’t.” It is such a vulnerable admission that Henry’s throat closes up. From the things Sebastian has hinted at and Henry’s general knowledge of the wizarding world(and its darker parts), he’s sure he has an idea of what Ominis’ family was encouraging. “Listen, Henry,” Ominis began again, his vulnerability wrapped back up, but his shoulders still tense as his tone went stern. “I… I know I won’t be able to convince Sebastian to leave this alone. I knew when he brought it up even after I tried to deter him.” His tone was so resigned that Henry considered joining Ominis in convincing Sebastian of another way.
But look how that turned out for him last time. Sebastian only double-downed on his demands. That and Ominis was right; there would be no convincing Sebastian to look away from this. Henry exhaled and nodded to himself.
“We won’t be able to convince him, no,” Henry spoke quietly. “But if there is danger in the places he’s trying to go, then… I want to be there to protect him rather than let him go alone, bitter and angry.”
“Yes, I see your point,” Ominis regarded Henry with something close to appraisal, or at least that’s what Henry thought he saw(perhaps what he wanted to see). “I’ll admit I was wondering why you were so interested in this, too.”
“I’m not,” Henry admitted readily. “To be honest, I agree with you. I don’t think Dark Magic brings about any good.” I’ve seen it, too. Henry’s thoughts murmur, I’ve seen who uses it and why. “But until I can find solid evidence that there is another way, we won’t be able to convince him otherwise; the least I can do is protect him if needed.” The idea was almost laughable. Protecting one of the best duelists in the Hogwarts student body? The fierce and determined Sebastian Sallow? Yes, the idea seemed silly, for Sebastian was no damsel. But even then, with this criteria, Ominis’ head inclined towards the ground, and his grip on his own arms loosened.
“I’m glad I have you to help me with this.” The words bring about a feeling similar to a banishing spell to the stomach. If anything, Henry feels as though he atoning for encouraging this in the first place. Either way, he hummed in response as Ominis called Sebastian over, who looked openly hopeful with glee. “As disappointed in you as I am for bothering him with this,” Ominis tells Sebastian sharply, nodding to the boy in question(clearly, he’s still unhappy with him), “you’ll get your way. I’ll tell you what I know about the Scriptorium.”
A few confringo incantations later, the stone in the wall Ominis was leaning against was cutting itself into a doorway and sliding open.
“I hope we’re ready for this,” Ominis tells them, so terribly unsure and uneasy that Henry rolls his shoulders back and nods. He glanced back at Ominis as they followed Sebastian down the spiraling stone steps.
“Nothing will happen to you two if I can stop it,” Henry murmured to the other boy, trying to be as reassuring to Ominis as he could. He owed it to Ominis for being so indulgent of them and their common dangers and ideas.
The spiral downward got colder as they descended, Sebastian in the lead. Though Henry was quick to notice the lack of torches or light upon reaching the bottom, only the light from Sebastian's wand gave them any idea of what it looked like. Henry remained silent, lighting up the tip of his own wand to peer around. Somewhere ahead, Sebastian commented on the lack of light and how he could barely see. Ominis grumbled from beside Henry.
“Oh yes, what a terrible travesty.” Henry choked on his saliva, a smile forming at his friend’s remark.
His eyes fell upon the rubble of stone spread across the floor, mostly congregating against the left side of the short hall. There was a stone door with no discernable handle or way to open it, which was apparent when Sebastian tried to kick it(“Maybe don’t break things if you don’t know what they are.” “I know what it is, Henry, it’s just not doing its purpose as a door and opening.”) The designs around the room were wrapping and curling around the pillars, very snake-like, to no one's surprise. Salazar Slytherin seemed quite fond of himself.
“Reparo,” Henry flicked his wand, a little surprised when the spell worked, and the rubble came together into a picture. Near it was a slip of paper, the name Noctua Gaunt at the bottom. He stuffed the page in his pocket to review and hand to Ominis later(just because it rightfully belonged to him).
“Very Renaissance,” Sebastian comments, hands on his hips as he inspects the newly reformed picture. Henry raised an eyebrow, but Ominis pulled his attention away.
“That must be the voice I hear,” he whispered, fingers trailing over the door with its many snakes and twisting intricacies. His expression was focused as he felt the shape of the door, his head inclined slightly to the side as if he were paying attention to something else entirely. Henry approached him, looking for any shifts in his expression.
“You hear a voice?” He inquired.
Ominis’ eyes remained near the door, but his attention shifted towards Henry.
“Whatever you repaired started the whispers. They ask me to speak to them.” He paused, a moment of hesitation, before continuing. “I’m a… Parselmouth - I can hear and speak to snakes. Nearly all known Parselmouths are descendants of Salazar Slytherin.”
“Sounds like a useful gift,” Henry considered, but from how Ominis’ mouth twisted, he assumed the other boy disagreed.
“You might not want it,” Ominis informed him, his expression morose. “It’s often associated with Dark Wizards. But,” Ominis continued before Henry could shut down the line of thinking, “I haven’t done it in ages. Still, I’m certain doing so would allow the door to open.”
“He’s ensuring that anyone who enters is who he considers the right sort,” Henry figured.
“I don’t like those insinuations, however right you are likely to be,” Ominis replies warily, withdrawn on himself. “But the sooner we can leave, the better. I hope you’re having second thoughts.”
“Second and third thoughts, believe me,” Henry mumbled, “but we’re here, and there’s no way we’ll be able to drag Sebastian out of here.” They both ignored the ‘nope’ Sebastian called from behind Henry.
“I swore I’d never get into this again, and yet here I am,” Ominis sighed. With a heavy inhale, Henry was startled for a moment when a heavy hissing sound came from Ominis’ parted lips. His eyebrows were drawn together, and his shoulders were hunched in, but Henry did genuinely think there was a snake in the room. That being said, the door’s locking mechanism unraveled, and the circular valve began to unlatch the doorway.
“I know how you feel about it, Ominis,” Henry began, mouth slightly wide in awe of what had just happened. Magic is wonderful. "But you’re brilliant; your gift was not wasted on you, most certainly.” Sebastian chimed in behind them as the center of the door split and the two sides swung open.
“Between the two of you, I’m starting to feel left out.”
“Between the two of us?” Ominis asked, confusion lining his tone, and panic caused Henry to elbow Sebastian in the side. Ominis wasn’t an idiot by any standard.
“I… never mind; you’re both just smart, is all. I’ve just been standing here while you’ve done almost everything.” Whatever Sebastian has to say about intelligence may be true or not, nobody could argue just how good he was with words. He was quick on his feet in that regard. Henry felt his shoulders drop a little when Ominis accepted the answer for what it was and followed Henry into the next room. It was darker in this room than the previous one, and… Henry could hear sharp hissing somewhere in the halls ahead. “There’s no clear way forward,” Sebastian remarked.
“Lumos, there’s bound to be some way,” Henry told him, for they hadn’t explored all there was to explore in this space yet. Ominis spoke warily, continually on alert as the three filed in, wands lighting the way and giving a sense of where they were.
“A maze, I can’t imagine this was meant to be an easy trial.” The sound of stone rolling against stone had Henry pause.
“The door closed behind us, but there’s more ahead,” Sebastian informed them just as Henry spotted a closed gate with two patterns scrawled across. He cataloged them and peered around the corner, holding his hand high when he found a half-opened gate. Though the words weren’t pleasing in the slightest, meaning the only way out was forward, they were locked in with their decision. So Henry swallowed down the foreboding feeling that grew with the hissing. This doubled in volume when Henry crouched and shifted under the gate, righting himself as he saw the metal block with a steel snake.
Setting his bag to the side, he inspected the object of interest within the room.
The snake was coiled, wound tight as it stared at Henry. He swallowed and peered at the dials underneath it. From what he could see without messing with it, there were different symbols and two dials. Now the question was: what does this dial connect to? The hissing was pressing against his ears, and he felt pressured to get a move on, to stop being so cautious. Henry felt cold, goosebumps running up his arms with little comfort drawn from the familiarity of his messenger bag. The magic in these halls is… violating. They wanted to twist his magical core and lay it out on a table, examining it only to deem it useless.
The symbols from the first closed gate flashed across his memory, and Henry was quick to turn them, clicking the two in place. He heard iron bars moving and the creaking of what was most likely the gate opening in the other room. He gathered up his bag when he heard it.
Clicking sounds followed by a hissing that rose in steady intervals drew Henry’s attention away from the dials in front of him. He strained to listen, trying to puzzle out where it was coming from and why it was happening.
He got his answer when there was a much sharper and final click followed by Sebastian’s startled yelp. The echo of the sound had Henry quickly shifting under the gate and taking long strides back where he came just as Sebastian was leaving a room, fingers rubbing against his cheek. Henry’s eyebrows drew together, and he reached out for the other boy just as Ominis was interrogating him about what had happened.
Hands pressing against warm cheeks, Henry reeled Sebastian closer to him, rubbing a finger over a small cut on his cheekbone. Just as blood started to fall from Sebastian’s cheek, Henry asked, “What happened?” Ominis made a noise of agreement.
“I can smell blood. Is he bleeding?” Smell blood? That was something to ask about another time(he had no idea Ominis’ other senses were so sharp). Henry hummed, ignoring Sebastian’s wince when he pressed his index finger lightly against the edge of the cut. The skin around it was starting to redden and swollen.
“The damned puzzle is on a timer. I couldn’t set the symbols right, and the snake lashed out at me like it was an actual snake,” Sebastian explained, trying to shove Henry’s fingers away before resigning himself to Henry’s nursing. “I think one of its fangs got on the cheek, and it’ll probably bruise by tomorrow. I’m not worried about it.” Henry rolled his eyes, rubbing a thumb over his cheek absently as he considered the need for a healing potion(of which he had plenty) before deciding against it.
“Good to know,” Henry noted, stepping away and drawing his wand again, lighting the tip. “Do you know what the dials are for?”
“No,” Sebastian replied, breaking eye contact as he pretended to care about his swollen cheek. “I was just trying to figure that out when I was devilishly attacked.” Henry snorted.
“Probably shouldn’t touch something if you don’t know what it is or what it does.” Sebastian sputtered a response as Henry returned to his examination of the space around them. He’d tuned out the Slytherin’s prideful protests as he found closed gates with symbols(two each) written across them. Though one was scratched off a bit, Henry was sure he could match it. Henry clicked his tongue in understanding and returned to the dial Sebastian had attempted. However, as soon as he got to it, his mind blanked on the patterns and had to peer around the corner at the door embarrassingly to solidify it to memory.
Hey, he was stressed, and his memory was suffering because of it. But he finally managed to stand in front of the mechanism with the symbols memorized, which is when he realized the issue.
Which door does the dial lead to?
Swallowing, Henry entered the symbols for one, and when the timer continued, he hurriedly entered the symbols for the second, just as the hissing reached its peak.
The clicking stopped, and the sound of a gate opening had Henry letting out a breath. In the hurry, he’d sucked air into his lungs and forgot to release. When he returned to the other two, Sebastian clapped him on the shoulder as they continued through the gate.
“Was just about to do that, but you, my dear charge, beat me to it.” He ‘coughed,’ “Nice work.” Henry rolled his eyes but smiled at Sebastian’s light-hearted antics. Any distraction from the way the foreign magic felt was a welcome one.
The next room had only one dial and one gate.
“Pretty straightforward,” Henry muttered, clicking the dials as the snake rose to assess his progress, awaiting a chance to lash out. He made quick work of them despite the fact that the first one got stuck for one panic-inducing second.
“Seems Slytherin likes to play games,” Ominis humorlessly muses.
“Must run in the family,” Sebastian replied just as the iron snakes on the gate shifted away from their locks and the gate opened. Ominis’ purely exasperated response had a smile curling around Henry’s lips.
“Look in a mirror, Sebastian.”
Henry continues to work on the dials, pacing back and forth around the cluster of rooms while Sebastian comments behind him. Not that Henry is opposed to it in any way.
The moment they left the Parseltongue room, this horrible mesh of hissing and iterations of what could be whispered words filled Henry’s ears. Every time he neared a dial, it got louder, more persistent, and more demanding. He felt pressured to rush, hurry, and complete the task before him, like something hovering over his neck. The image of fangs bared and the threat of venom conveyed in a street musician’s track of noise, of open-mouthed snarls. All of this was overlaid by Sebastian’s constant chatter, and Henry clung to his voice, focusing on the way Sebastian spoke and the tilts in tone.
The unwelcome noise was driving him more insane than the threat of being locked in these chambers.
After the last dial was completed, Henry met up with Ominis near the last door. Sebastian was in tow, and he let out a breath of relief. “That’s the last one,” he informed Ominis, placing a hand on his shoulder as he lightly applied pressure to face him towards the spot in which the last gate had opened. There was appraisal in Ominis’ words as Sebastian joined them(most definitely looking around the place, as curious as he is).
“Impressive, nice work.” Henry fought down a smile at the compliment, which sounded so genuine that it took him off guard. “Sebastian, last time I checked, you weren’t blind; why don’t you help?” That one did actually get a smile out of Henry. Ominis sounded every bit of a scolding parent, telling his lazy son off.
“I’ve learned that when Henry is working on puzzles. Best to leave him to it.” Sebastian has definitely been around for a Merlin Trial or two, and Henry’s cheeks warmed when Ominis turned in his direction, eyebrows raised.
“I… don’t like it when I’m working on something and someone else is hovering, whether they’re helping or not. Makes me lose focus.” Which was mostly true. Henry wouldn’t consider himself a ‘team player’ when working on puzzles or projects. He liked to figure things out on his own for the most part and piece things together how he saw fit. “Which… now that I say that makes me sound terribly controlling.”
“Works for me,” Sebastian shrugged, pausing his entry into the next room when Henry halted him.
“I found these pages, Ominis. They’re notes left by your aunt. She was looking for evidence that could change your family’s traditions.” Placing the sheets in Ominis’ pale hands, Henry doesn’t comment on the slight tremble as his friend intercepts them, running his fingers over the pages. His voice dipped a little lower.
“She was… and she was my favorite person in the world for it.” The words trembled at the end, prompting Henry to gently rest a hand on his shoulder. He turned to Sebastian when his friend spoke, shifting his attention from Ominis and his trembling voice, laced with adoration and loss.
“I can see something ahead in this room. Looks troubling.” There was a contemplative frown on his face. Henry couldn’t see much besides another closed door ahead and a space bigger than the Parseltongue room. Ominis sighed and pocketed the pages, visibly pulling himself together as he spoke.
“This whole place has been troubling. But for my aunt’s sake and especially ours, we cannot stop now.” Henry quietly agreed and followed Sebastian into the next room, peering around the walls. Now, the sounds he heard from before grew in demand, an orchestra of violence and threat and pressure. Henry nearly wanted to cover his ears until there was a heavy thud behind him and just like that. Silence.
Like someone had killed whoever was making the noise. Cut its head off as soon as the door shut, locking them in.
Henry swallowed, approaching the shimmering door of agonized faces. The word ‘Crucio’ is embedded into the floor with red magic. The word was familiar, unsettling in its memory, but Henry couldn’t recollect where he’d heard it. However, he did know that, despite the sounds being cut off, the magic in this room was robust, foreign, and pressured against his skin. It felt no less violating than it had before in this silence.
Sebastian was standing still in front of the door, eyes tracing their, most likely, exit. His expression was unreadable until the moment Henry turned away. He spotted a sheet of paper, next to a pile of bones that had Henry closing his eyes for a moment to pull himself together. The paper looked harmless, but the air thinned around it as Henry considered it. There was magic or an echo or memory or something embedded into the object. He was proven right when he lifted the sheet of paper, and a shriek echoed off his skull. His shoulders jerked back, feet distancing him from the remains on their own accord.
Sebastian turned to Henry, eyes wide and confused, as Henry held the note away from himself.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did… did you not hear it, too?” Sebastian’s eyebrows drew together.
“Hear what?” Henry opened his mouth, decided against it, and shook his head.
“Noth- nothing, this place must be getting to me, I suppose.” But the words on the note had Henry reconsidering as he turned to Ominis. His saliva was acidic, and his tongue felt thick as he approached his friend. “Ominis.” When he turned to Henry, uneasy and closed in on himself, Henry wanted nothing else in the world than to say this. “There’s a note next to bones... From your aunt. It says she was blocked by an unforgivable curse.”
It was quiet, really quiet until Henry realized that Ominis wasn’t breathing. It wasn’t moving. Just standing there, staring unblinking and uncomprehending at the Gryffindor. Henry reached out, letting the paper fall to the ground, unsure but unwilling to leave him there adrift. When his hand made contact with one of Ominis’ crossed arms, the choked sound that left him broke Henry’s heart in two. All of the air in the room sucked into one deep, stuttering breath as Ominis crumbled.
Henry held Ominis and locked him in his arms as his voice raised in panic.
“This is where she died. This… this is where we’ll die. Gods, why did I listen to either of you?” Despite the frustration in his voice, Ominis didn’t push Henry away, like Henry expected him to. He sat there, allowing Henry to bring undemanding comfort to him as Sebastian spoke up behind them.
“I’m truly sorry about your aunt, Ominis, but I know what we must do.”
Henry is certain that Sebastian doesn’t hear it; he knows that he can’t hear the way Ominis murmurs, “Please don’t say it,” from where his head is pressed against Henry’s neck. Henry increases the pressure the moment Sebastian explains that they need to cast Crucio for the door to open. Noctua Gaunt couldn’t leave because she came here alone and didn't want to drag anyone with her into this tomb.
When the incantation leaves Sebastian’s lips, Henry remembers what it is exactly. He can hear its cast from Harlow when he and Natty escaped with the hippogriffs. He remembers when, afterward, Natty exclaimed abashment at how Harlow could ‘cast the torture curse upon kids.’ The idea that one of them needs to subject another to that kind of pain just so they can leave… Henry is abashed himself at the idea that this evil place is within Hogwarts, a place meant for safety and education.
Parting from Ominis is difficult, but Henry takes a breath and says, “I’m going to speak with Sebastian about this.” Ominis’ expression is twisted into something confused. It is as though he is in denial over what’s happening. This cannot possibly be happening, were the thoughts running through Henry’s head when his mother was cold and lifeless on her bed; he understood what was happening, knew it was coming, and yet still could not believe life was still eager to be so cruel. “It’ll be okay.” He tells the other boy, “I’ll figure something out.”
Because that’s what Henry does. He figures things out. He wanders the highlands and clears out Loyalist camps to ensure the safety of villages; he helps goblins get their life’s possessions back from their cruel counterparts at the expense of a cut or two; he saves precious companions from poachers, sneaking into camps and aiding centaurs in a fight against Dark Wizards in the Forbidden Forest if he is passing by. That’s what Henry does… he sees people in need of help and cannot stop himself if he is able to help.
And part of him hates it.
But another significant part of him finds hope in the world when he’s done something right. If he aids just one more person or saves just one more Hamlet, he is healing a cruel world just a bit more.
So when he speaks to Sebastian and Sebastian mentions Ominis’ experience in the matter, Henry scowls deeply.
“No, Sebastian.”
“I don’t like it either, but you don’t understand; he’s the only one who-.”
“Sebastian,” Henry cut him off, jerking his head in Ominis’ direction. Henry could see him pacing back and forth, hands waving up and down as he spoke to himself. “Look at him. I want you to look him in the eyes and tell him that he must cast that spell on one of his friends.” Sebastian’s lips twisted in displeasure, refusing to look at Ominis as his hands shook. Henry knows he feels cornered; he knows they are of extremely limited options. And he is prepared for how Sebastian responds when he feels cornered: With anger.
“Well, I am not yearning to die down here just like his late aunt because we cannot cast one spell!” Sebastian hisses, face close to Henry’s. “It is the only way out. You know it, and so do I. But please, if you’d like to stand there and pretend that waiting patiently will get the door open, be my guest.”
“Come off it,” Henry told him sternly. “I’m…” what? What was he trying to do? Henry took a deep breath, “Let’s just try everything else before immediately jumping to Unforgivables, yeah?” Sebastian stared at him for a long moment, and Henry stared right back. He refused to be cowed.
“Fine,” Sebastian waved a hand at the door. “Let’s see what other spells could possibly work here.” And they did. They tried any series of spells they both knew. Explosive spells and blasting spells. Lifting spells and unlocking spells. With each try, they got increasingly frustrated, and Ominis became more agitated. Eventually, Henry lifted his messenger bag and placed it off to the side, back away from the door.
Turning to Sebastian, he waved a hand, “Step back. I’m not sure what letting out a blast of Ancient Magic would do in this small of a space.” As Ominis spoke in confusion, asking Henry what he was talking about, the Gryffindor removed his robes and rolled his sleeves up. He still has a bit of a difficult time summoning it on command when his life is not in immediate danger. Still, he focuses on the magical core inside him.
He felt its buzzing energy, heat so searing it was cold, cold so freezing it was hot. Electricity. Henry gathered it, coaxed it into his will, and remembered what it felt like to use it. When he felt he had it contained in a compressed ball just under his lungs, he drew his wand and released it in a stream. Bolts of white light dripped down like molten lava as the magic made contact with the door. His fingers burned slightly where they gripped his wand, like raw energy. His lungs heaved with every wave of magic he expelled like he was breathing in the frozen air.
And just as it was there, it was gone, leaving Henry panting and bent slightly, drained. But when he looked up again, the air choked out of him when all he saw on the door was a nasty scorch mark(by far the most damage ever done to it) but nothing that allowed them to leave. Henry’s lower lip trembled when the situation fell on his shoulders. Turning when Ominis exclaims, “What was that? I’ve… I’ve never felt such magic before. Henry?” The boy in question glanced at Sebastian before answering.
“I’ll explain more later, Ominis, when we’re safe.”
“...we’re not safe yet? Even after that blast?”
“No, I’m sorry,” Henry breathed out, shoulders slumping.
“This is ridiculous,” Sebastian finally broke his silence as Henry leaned against the wall, taking a moment to regain the air in his lungs. “We must cast Crucio, and you, Ominis, are the only one who has done so before. It is the only way we’ll be able to get out of this chamber!” Sebastian ignored Ominis’ wince at the incantation, and before Henry could cut in and reel his friend back, Ominis finally shouted back.
“I can’t! You have to mean it, Sebastian. Nothing, and I mean nothing-,” his voice was thick like he was out of breath, “-could make me want to hurt either of you so terribly.” Henry hurt for him, feeling an all-consuming guilt when Ominis slumped back against the wall on the other side of the chamber, curled in on himself. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, pressing in like he wanted to fold himself in half. “If you cast that spell, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”
Henry hung his head as Sebastian approached him.
“It’s up to us then, I can either teach you the spell, and you cast it on me, or I can cast it on you.” Henry’s eyes snapped up to the Slytherin.
“You didn’t tell me you knew how to cast it,” his voice sharpened, incredulous. Sebastian was quick to answer, a rare moment of hesitation on his end.
“Because I’m… not so sure I do, Ominis knows that-.”
“Leave him out of this; your remarks don’t help anyone,” Henry told him, short on patience and teeth tightening at Sebastian’s responding scowl.
“What’ll it be, Henry?”
His words from before came back to him at that moment as he considered Sebastian. The tip of the precipice.
“Nothing will happen to you two if I can stop it.” He recalled why he came into this wretched place, and his answer fell from his lips before he could take it back.
“You can cast it on me. I don’t want to learn it.” Sebastian’s eyes widened. Henry was nearly offended that he was stunned to the point that his irritation from before fell away like the mask it was.“What? Did you think I was going to let either of you-,” Henry swallowed, forcibly ignorant to the nails he’d planted on his coffin. “Sebastian, the only reason I came in here was to ensure you were safe.” As if saying these things out loud would help him be more okay with the choice he’d just made. Like they would anchor him to his decision.
It wasn’t working very well.
“I… alright,” Sebastian replied very quietly. “Are you sure?” Henry forced a hum and nodded as Sebastian took three steps back, remaining across from Henry. Ominis was standing in the corner of the hall, shaking his head over and over again. This only solidified Henry’s decision.
He braced himself, muscles locking up when Sebastian attempted to cast the spell. Nothing happened, and Ominis’ words replayed in his mind. “You have to mean it,” Henry told Sebastian, who stood there, wand raised and conflict written across his face.
“Fuck,” Sebastian swore, jaw tightening. Henry had already resigned himself to his fate, so he sucked in a breath and steeled his tone.
“You’re not going to save Anne at any point in the near future if you keep going on like this. Isn’t it just a spell, Sebastian? Don’t be a coward.” True to it, Sebastian scowled, looking to refute Henry’s words. Henry drew his eyebrows together and squared his composure. “You will never be able to cure Anne,” fury sparked in Sebastian’s eyes, and his lips curled as Henry continued against his protests, “and you know it. I just pity you so much that I help you, but she’s as good as dea-.”
Henry saw the moment it happened. The shift in Sebastian’s face, the red in his eyes.
“Crucio!”
There was a fractured moment in time. A disjointed second of pause, anticipation, perhaps.
Then his skin was torn apart, and all Henry could hear was Mum’s screams in his ears, shrieks of pain, and complete agony. He could hear her wails, her vocal cords tearing guttural howls directly into his eardrums. His mother was screaming, thrashing.
And so was he.
He thinks he begged for death. He thinks he demanded it stop.
His own magic was rebelling against him, being sapped from his core as the pieces of his being were being ripped from his body. The curse grabbed handfuls upon handfuls of his skin, peeled it off, snatched his muscles and twisted them away, gripped his bones, and snapped them away from one another.
Henry choked on nothing.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
His body, this wretched and binding sack of flesh, dropped to the floor.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
He sucked in air, clawed at the floor.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
His nails split off his fingers.
Make it stop.
They were only such a small piece of sand in a large desert of agony.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
His shoulder was branded, iron against flesh.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
He would slaughter whoever did this to him-.
Make… it… stop.
In his mind, he cried for his mother. Begged for her to take this pain away from him. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he choked out the words, asking for her, sobbing for her as he was sapped of his humanity and stripped of his senses. Violated his magic and perverted against his soul.
Mama…