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witchyafterdark · 10 days ago

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🌦️☄️Wren & Wraith

Ominis x F!MC romcom-drama [M-rated, 2.5k]

"Come on, Ominis, you can't leave school with me as your only friend." Oh, but he could. He would— well, maybe not happily, he couldn't give Sebastian too much credit. But contently, certainly. It was too late for any shifts in the status quo now. And that was for the best. That was what he wanted – what he needed to survive. Keep his head down, blend in, never challenge the way of things. Never cause a ruckus or draw attention to himself unnecessarily, or be late. Ominis sped up, determined to get to the castle on time. He'd spent so long chopping and contorting himself to fit in that he'd weathered down to particles: invisible, unremarkable. And free.

The wren and the wraith don't have anything in common, except one thing… they're both trapped. Sixth-year Ominis Gaunt had no intention of doing anything more than surviving until he's old enough to escape his family, but when chaotic, naïve Muggle-born Tabitha Fulton-Smyth stumbles into his life with no knowledge of the magical world, Ominis proposes an arrangement: he'll help her to better fit in if she'll pretend to be his friend – and stave the unfortunately growing rumours declaring him the true Heir of Slytherin. But when gossip becomes fate, Tabitha's explosive magic becomes a source of untold mystery, and ruse becomes startlingly too real, Ominis realises that to get the peace he so desperately craves, he'll have to risk it all: his future, his destiny, and worst of all... his heart.

NEXT || AO3 | Wattpad

1. Same Old

In the list of things Ominis Gaunt expected to happen on his first day of sixth year, Muggle violence was not one of them.

"Guess what rumour I heeeeeard?"

It was mid-afternoon by the time he and Sebastian finally got on the road bid for Hogwarts, and Ominis was already frustrated. The morning wasted on Sebastian's arguments with his surly uncle Solomon, they would probably be late to the Sorting Ceremony if Sebastian continued to walk at his leisurely, cavalier, did not give one atom of a shit pace.

"I have no interest in whatever gossip you've managed to siphon out of the local tattlers. Now walk faster."

The fresh air and mild anticipation never failed to give him a shot of hope for the new school term. It was good to be away from Solomon's oppression, and his family's too. At Hogwarts, he was away from that responsibility as could be, and Ominis never took that for granted.

This year was his seventeenth birthday. The year he became a man.

"You'll want to hear this," Sebastian insisted, easily keeping pace with Ominis' longer strides. He was shorter, but much brawnier, with wide shoulders and enough muscle to make him popular with most girls, and some of the boys, in school. "There's a new student starting this year."

Ominis knew what lay at the other side of January: undertaking the true weight of the Gaunt name. Furthering social connections he didn't care to forge, arranging business in fields he held no interest in and juggling marriage proposals that brought neither passion nor levity. It was as he'd been taught since birth, each lesson drilled into him as precisely as a tomb engraving. Luckily, these were skills he could turn to his advantage.

Because Ominis Gaunt had a plan.

"There are hundreds of new students starting this year. That's how schools work."

"She'll be joining as a sixth year, our year, you dunce. And – get this – she had no magic before now. Last week she was more Muggle than a telephone box."

That was intriguing, but Ominis didn't want to give Sebastian the moral victory. "And how did you come about this rumour?"

"You know Mrs Oats, the old lady who I owl-sat for yesterday? She works at the Department of Magical Transport. Apparently had to sort a Thestral-drawn carriage last minute from London."

It was a fairly reliable source, and Sebastian wasn't prone to lying for the sake of it. Still, Ominis had no desire to speculate. He knew exactly where this was going.

The boy slapped him heartily on the shoulder. "It's so perfect I couldn't have made it up if I tried. You know what this means?"

"Another skirt for you to chase?"

"It means," he declared, ignoring him again, "another chance for you to make a new friend."

Typical. A knot in Ominis' stomach tightened. "We're not having this discussion again." As if he didn't suffer it enough from both him and Anne during summer. At least Anne knew when to shut up. Without her as anchor, Sebastian could prattle for hours.

"You can't keep pretending the problem doesn't exist, Ominis," he said coolly. "This is finally your chance to branch out and expand from the social circle you call me, my dormmate Sebastian and my best friend Sebastian."

"I don't have to pretend the problem doesn't exist because the problem doesn't exist."

"We're in sixth year! Almost full-fledged wizards! Come on, Ominis, you can't leave school with me as your only friend."

Oh, but he could. He would— well, maybe not happily, he couldn't give Sebastian too much credit. But contently, certainly. It was too late for any shifts in the status quo now.

And that was for the best. That was what he wanted – what he needed to survive. Keep his head down, blend in, never challenge the way of things. Never cause a ruckus or draw attention to himself unnecessarily, or be late. Ominis sped up, determined to get to the castle on time. He'd spent so long chopping and contorting himself to fit in that he'd weathered down to particles: invisible, unremarkable.

And free.

"You don't even know who this new student is," he said.

"Don't need to," Sebastian trilled, keeping up easily. "I have a gut feeling."

"That's just your stomach."

"Just you wait." Sebastian marched a few steps ahead, dragging his trunk with gusto. "This is our year."

Ominis sincerely hoped not.

As the first years were shepherded to their Houses, Sebastian shared the illicit rumour with every Slytherin in close proximity at the table. He was good with spinning stories, so it wasn't long before every sixth year was agog with speculation. Nerida claimed to overhear something from Professor Sharp.

"Supposedly there was a rogue dragon spotted flying over the Midlands," she whispered. "Fig and her, they got caught up in an attack. Do you think that's why they're late?"

"Forget late! They might've been hurt!" said Grace, scandalised.

Opposite him came a soft, girlish snort.

"What does it matter? She would've avoided it if she got the Hogwarts Express. Could she not board the train like the rest of us? Her people invented those things, after all."

Ominis' dormmates swore Maya Cavendish was the most beautiful girl they'd ever seen. Flawless bronze skin and thick ringlets of chocolate brown pinned into a chignon, she must've had the appearance of Greek goddess if she was pretty enough to disguise the rot beneath.

"Her people," Sebastian challenged. "You say that like it's a bad thing?"

"I can't imagine many Muggles have faced dragons before."

"Muggle-borns."

"Mmm." Maya sat up straight. "Regardless, you can't disagree it's poor form to be late on the first day."

Ominis couldn't, though her tone implied a lot more than an obedience to the rules.

The Sorting passed without fanfare, Slytherin taking its usual handful of hopeful misfits with squealy voices and barely-developed acne. When dinner appeared, Ominis levitated his usual amuse-bouche of a hen and rosemary filo tart onto his plate.

Then the doors clamoured, drawing his attention sharply left.

"We have one last one!" called a hurried Professor Fig. "Apologies!"

"Ah." On the front steps, Weasley fluttered a hand, calling for silence. "Thank you very much, Professor Fig. Forks down, students, this will only take a moment. Miss Tabitha Fulton-Smyth, if you'd please make your way over?"

A pair of shoes scurried inside.

"Sorry to hold up dinner!" the girl said, high-pitched like a mouse's squeak. "I swear I didn't mean to be—"

Maya murmured under her breath; the girl yelped and stumbled to the floor with a loud clatter. A trill of stifled amusement rippled around her, although it quickly doused as Fig helped her to her feet.

"Best not to run," he said gently.

There was a table between them but even Ominis could detect her face burning. With a more modest spring to her step, she made her way to the dais and sat on the stool, and before long she was Sorted into Hufflepuff.

The interruption was, perhaps, the only thing of note to happen during the feast, along with the usual announcements, new staff, a speech from head boy Lance Weasley, Quidditch trials in the coming weeks and an additional warning to be more wary of goblin presence in the Highlands. No change from the years before, then. It was irrevocably uninspired, normal. Another year at Hogwarts, and things were promising to be the same old.

Just the way he preferred.

As they eventually made their way to the common room, Sebastian knocked Ominis' arm. "Can you smell that, Ominis?"

"The garlic on your breath? Unfortunately."

"Wrong," he said, fluttering his palms outwards. "It's the scent of potential."

It was Sebastian's fault could've been the name of Ominis' autobiography.

No matter how many times Ominis shook him, prodded him, yelled in his ear, the oaf would not rouse even the slightest. Sebastian's sleep pattern was awry because of the amateur Beast-sitting service that kept him up into the night, and though tempted to leave him so he wouldn't have to suffer any more ridiculous soliloquysabout the winds of change, Ominis resorted to using Aguamenti and kicking the boy onto the floor instead. They'd had to skip breakfast to make it to Defence Against the Dark Arts on time, and Ominis snacked discreetly on a chocolate bar beneath the desk as Hecat opened the lesson.

"Sixth year sees you beginning to embrace your abilities as witches and wizards in the entirety. No more hand-holding. No more rigid guidance. From now on you will learn what it means to become an adult in our society. In today's lesson, we will settle everyone into the expectations I have with wandwork—"

A timid knock cut her off, followed by the groan of a door.

"H-Hello?" said Tabitha Fulton-Smyth. "Is this, erm... Defence class?"

"That is it. Welcome inside, Miss Fulton-Smyth. You can have the empty spot next to Master Prewett over there." As Tabitha dumped her bag, Hecat appraised her. "You have excellent timing. Professor Fig tells me you have some duelling experience. Is that true?"

"Er, I'm all right, like," she said. "It's sort of different when it's life and death."

So the dragon attack was true.

"I see," said Hecat. "Then I would like to see what you have learnt in action."

"In action?"

"... In a duel."

"No!" Tabitha blurted. "I mean, erm, no thank you, Miss. Someone else can go first."

Hecat laughed. "I'm afraid I wasn't asking. As I was saying, I want everyone on the same page, and you're a bit of a mystery. Not to worry, I believe you'd make a fine opponent for... Master Gaunt."

Ominis choked on his chocolate bar.

"He must find this all trivial," she continued with an edge to her voice, "since he believes it acceptable to eat during my class."

He quickly shoved the evidence in his pocket, but it was too late. Damn.

"With all due respect, Professor—"

"Request denied, Master Gaunt. Up you get."

As the class made room – and Ominis pinched Sebastian's arm hard – Hecat conjured the duelling platform down the central aisle.

"Master Gaunt, I will limit you to basic cast, the Levitation charm and the Shield charm. Miss Fulton-Smyth, you may use anything you like."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

She batted her cheeks twice. "Okay! I'll do my best!"

Her best would not be enough. Tabitha was as petite to him as a thumb to a forearm. She wore the full Hogwarts regalia, robes, blazer and all, whilst he'd already forgone his uniform down to his waistcoat, and her hair, riotous blonde curls tied poorly back in an amalgamation of ribbons and pins, could easily disrupt her vision. She wore glasses too, fiddling with them as she awkwardly clambered up the platform.

His family's duelling wisdom came back to him in waves. Light on your feet, think fast, be vigilant, understand their weakness. Another list, another easy set of steps to follow. He met her in the middle of the platform, preparing to bow, but Tabitha stuck out her hand instead.

"Nice to meet you, Master Gaunt!"

He had to resist a grimace as she shook like she was trying to extract the last drop of ketchup from the bottle. How could such a tiny, tiny hand be so... clammy?

"My name's Tabitha! Let's have a good fight!"

He surreptitiously wiped down his leg. "Indeed."

After bowing, they made their way to opposite ends. It was time to find out how she'd beaten that dragon.

"Ready?" called Hecat, as Ominis pushed his feet apart. "Begin!"

In what was not a show of sportsmanship but rather an assessment of her technique, he waited to allow Tabitha the first move, prepared to dart aside or arm a shield – but all she did was erratically wave her wand.

"Oh, crumbs, what was it again? Stupidly? Stupid fly?"

What? No, surely she didn't... He inched forwards as she jabbed her wand out.

"STUPID DIE!"

Instead, Ominis cautiously struck three basic casts that pushed her to the edge of the platform, and a fourth that blasted her straight off. Hecat cushioned the fall; the class erupted in confused whispers.

"Again, Miss Fulton-Smyth," said Hecat, as Tabitha stood up, catching her breath. "The spell you're thinking of is Stupefy. Try to fight back this time, hmm?"

"Right, sorry!" she babbled out, climbing back up undeterred. "He's really good!"

This had to be a joke. They'd asked her to join an advanced duelling class – and she couldn't do even the most basic offensive spell? He hadn't even tried! Hecat resumed the duel before he could question it, and to Tabitha's credit, she let out a determined huff and didn't hesitate.

"Stupefy!"

But nothing happened. Ominis flung basic casts towards her again, but this time she had the forethought to avoid them, backing further down the platform.

"Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!" She let out a panicked whine. "Why isn't this working?"

"You need the wand movement!" Sebastian the traitor yelled. "Vertical line down!"

"Ohhhhh! Stupefy!"

A sharp pulse whizzed by Ominis' ear. Finally, a challenge. He swerved left to dodge the next and raised his wand as she threw another.

"Protego." The spell ricocheted into the ceiling, rattling the bone dragon. "Levioso."

"EEEEE!" She pinwheeled into the air, shrieking, before three more blows to the chest shunted her off the platform with a hacked-out yelp.

Useless, again. This couldn't be the same girl that fought a dragon, it simply couldn't.

"I don't think she's ready for this class, Professor," he muttered, trying not to let his irritation show. "Perhaps one with the younger years?"

"You let me worry about that, Master Gaunt," said Hecat, ushering the girl back to her feet again. "We'll try once more, Miss Fulton-Smyth. Remember everything you have learnt... and give it your all."

The beating seemed to have knocked Tabitha's confidence. She pawed back up with a silent wince, wand arm quivering with adrenaline. The moment Hecat began the final match, she fired a basic cast – desperate and sloppy, he flicked it away and sliced forwards, weaving between each attack to trim the space between them.

"S-Stupefy!" He batted it away again, relishing the terrified squall she let out. "Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"

Each Ominis swatted away like lint. He moved like high tide, undeterred and mighty, as engulfing yet impossible to grasp, and closed the gap in four strides. Tabitha's incantations became incoherent babbles until he pressed the wand tip to her throat.

Beaten, as easily as that.

"Don't take this personally," he said, charged with disdain, "but this is an advanced class, and if you can't keep up, you shouldn't—"

But she cut him off with a scream.

Tossed her wand aside—

And lunged.

He hit the deck with a hollow rattle, winding him as her weight crashed down onto his chest. He was so stunned at the manoeuvre he completely froze when she dug her elbows into his arm joints, screeching some sort of battle cry.

Same old, he'd promised himself – but no one had ever surprised him like this before.

"Wait a moment!" he choked out, struggling to find purchase. "This isn't how we—!"

Then she balled that tiny, tiny hand into a fist.

And sent it flying straight into his crotch.

A/N: I intend to update weekly (ish) with fairly bitesized chapters. If you'd like to be tagged with each update, let me know! Thanks so much for reading! <3

NEXT to come soon <3

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