Ominis anxiously paced around his seat in the Beasts Classroom, long after today’s lesson was finished. The sounds that used to relax his nerves—Puffskeins’ napping purrs, students’ chatters passing by, now all added to his worry in this darkness.
His wand just went missing.
He put the wand down on the side of the desk, just to capture a Niffler who got a little too obsessed with his lapel pin, yet within seconds the wand was nowhere to be found, and no student, not even Professor Howin, noticed anything happened. Without it navigating everything, it’s practically impossible for someone who has no eyesight like him to walk around in this massive and puzzling campus of Hogwarts.
“Could the day get even worse than this…”
Thinking about the special engagement he had to fulfil this afternoon, Ominis lamented, trying to work up the courage to walk back to the castle on his own. Fortunately, a familiar voice caught up to him before he did so:
“Ominis! Couldn’t find you anywhere… Wait, where’s your wand?”
“Thank Merlin… Please help me out here, Leanaul…”
With a friendly presence that he could trust, Ominis sighed in relief and explained his trouble to her. In no time, this warm-hearted transfer student who joined in the fifth year turned the entire Beast Classroom upside down, looking for his wand or any clue on its whereabouts, like those curious felines wandering around in Hogwarts. Ominis didn’t even need his vision to know where she was—he could simply follow the noises.
“Is that how you ‘venture’ into other people’s tombs too, Miss Cheninx?” Amused by the commotions Leanaul caused, Ominis chuckled and joked.
“Well, it’s not my fault that every time somebody asks for my help, it always leads to some dead people.” Leanaul shrugged and peeked into the Diricawl nest inside a nearby pen, “All I’ve been doing since I came here is just tomb raiding… we should ask them to open a course about it in Hogwarts at this stage.”
“Hmmm, no wonder the inferi get so mad at you. They are just defending their properties…”
“If you can’t help me find your wand, Master Ominis, how about just not distracting me?” Leanaul pouted and complained.
“As you wish, Miss Detective…”
While the two bantered, a lead on the missing wand weirdly fell out from Leanaul’s uniform jacket, of all places—it was a short note snuck into her pocket by someone not so long ago, with a handwriting that she found quite familiar.
“Should the young Slytherin wish to find Master Ominis’ wand, come to the Boathouse at midnight…”
Leanaul read the note out loud for Ominis, who immediately frowned upon hearing the last word: “Midnight? I have a Potions class this afternoon… oh Sharp is going to kill me…”
Ominis was already terrible at potion brewing as it was, without the help of his wand, he could only imagine the spine-shivering voice of disappointment from Professor Sharp when he messed up everything and caused a minor explosion in the cauldron. He secretly wished Mr. Garret Weasley would create an even bigger chaos in class today to distract everyone, a thought he never expected himself to be capable of.
“Don’t worry, we are in that class together, I will help you—surely Professor Sharp would understand your situation.” Leanaul walked towards Ominis, offering some comforting words, “He’s tough but fair, you know… Besides, he owed me a favour.”
“Really? Never thought that gruff old Auror would ever ask for help, not to mention from a student.”
“Well… consider it the professional benefits of being a ‘tomb raider’.”
While that sounded like a wild boast, Ominis didn’t doubt Leanaul could do it. She seemed to have a way with the all the professors, going on adventures as “extra assignments” and doing some interesting jobs for them, convincing Sharp to spare a few harsh words would be a piece of cake in comparison.
It must have been fun, leading such a colourful life outside Hogwarts, no wonder Sebastian liked going out with her so much. Ominis really hoped he could have opportunities like that too… even if it involved digging through graves.
A warm hand suddenly held onto Ominis’ arm, disrupting his drifting thoughts. Realizing that was Leanaul’s doing, he froze for a little, obviously not used to having body contact with her, coughed and asked: “What’s this for?”
“Your wand won’t be back anytime soon, so… somebody has to help you survive Hogwarts until its return, no?”
Her perfect reasoning left no room for protest on Ominis’ side, so he quietly walked back to the castle, with her arm in his. Leanaul wasn’t deliberately clinging herself onto him, of course, but just her rosy scent lingering around him was enough to make this seemingly mundane trip… heart-racing.
Ominis did his best to act normal and even started some chit-chats, but the sight of two Slytherins being so physically close in public drew quite the attention wherever they went. They were already at the centre of gossips at school, he could only imagine all the troublesome rumours after today.
“Good day, Miss Cheninx, Mr. Gaunt… I see you two are getting along with each other quite well.”
As if the day couldn’t get any more eventful, the two ran into Professor Weasley in the Central Hall. “Professor… there was something wrong with my wand, so uh…” Ominis could sense the smile on Professor’s face just from her tone, “Miss Cheninx was just showing me the way to class.”
“I see, sorry to hear about your wand, Mr. Gaunt, I’m sure Miss Cheninx will provide pleasant company and escort you safely.”
“I shall do my best, Professor… I assure you it’s no easy task.”
“Have I already exhausted you, Miss Cheninx? With such a poor fortitude you won’t make a very good knight…”
Hearing Leanaul making fun of him, Ominis immediately responded, smirked as he felt her angry pinch on his back. Watching the playful back-and-forth between these two, Professor Weasley thought for a moment and made a suggestion: “Why don’t you two pay a visit to Hogsmeade after the Potions class? I’m sure Mr. Ollivander could provide some insights on the wand, and I just happen to require assistance on a… special gardening task.”
“Certainly, Professor Weasley.”
Leanaul agreed to it with no hesitation, and Ominis quietly nodded besides her. Once Professor Weasley left them with a to-do list regarding the gardening favour, he tilted his head towards Leanaul and snickered: “Hogsmeade, is it? Right after I lost my wand, we suddenly have to go to all these places…”
“For good reasons though,” Leanaul shrugged, “Right now the only clue we have about your wand is a strange note, what if that fell through? Maybe we can figure out something else at the Ollivanders, like a replacement…”
As Leanaul was talking, Ominis suddenly felt his elbow bumped into a wave of warm softness. His mind went blank, with all her words slipping through his ears except the last few ones:
“…If you really don’t feel like going too far away without a wand, I can just go alone.”
“It’s… ok, it’s a nice weather for an outing anyway.”
All the witty responses escaped Ominis’ head when his mind was occupied with not thinking about what he just touched, and not showing that he noticed it. Luckily, the Potions class went relatively well—he partnered with Leanaul, finished his assignment in one try even, though he had totally forgotten all the brewing tips that Leanaul taught him for the future.
For some reason, he was always in… such a wrong state of mind when this girl was around.
Time flew quickly, it was like a blink of an eye before Ominis stepped into the Ollivanders with Leanaul. The wand shop usually got way less visitors in the middle of a semester, so Mr. Ollivander was surprised by their appearance.
“Oh this is not good, Mr. Gaunt…” The shop owner’s expression darkened as he heard the news, “You have to get the wand back, and quickly too…”
The old man buried himself in books while inaudibly whispering to himself, trying to look for something useful while the young Slytherins stood in shock and confusion. “What… do you mean, Mr. Ollivander?” Leanaul asked, “I never knew there’s some sort of life expectancy or expiration date on a wand…”
“Most wands don’t, but this one is unique, Miss Cheninx, its connection with the owner even more so. Most wizards and witches depend on their wands for magic, but Mr. Gaunt needs it to perceive the world as well—it’s literally one of his sensory organs, so to speak.” Mr. Ollivander tapped his own eyes as he explained, “Separating that wand with Mr. Gaunt is like taking away an alive part of himself, and it will get more and more difficult to… ‘reconnect’ it to its owner as time the passes, like reattaching a severed limb…”
Ollivander’s warning dampened Ominis’ mood greatly—he was just starting to enjoy this day trip in Hogsmeade with a special companion: “How much time do I have?”
“Best to get it back in three days, I would say, anytime longer than that? Well… I may be able to help rebuild the connection between the wand and the owner, but I can’t promise anything—We don’t even know what the wand is made of! I can only make some educated guesses…”
“Wait… your wand isn’t manufactured by the Ollivanders?”
Leanaul looked to Ominis, who gave her an oddly vague response: “No… to be honest, I don’t remember exactly how I got it, or where it was from… I think it was passed down from my ancestors.”
Even Ominis himself frowned upon the answer he came up with. He had just always had the wand with him and never thought about it, but now when he tried to think about its origin, all he found was a thick dark fog clouding that part of his memory.
How come him couldn’t remember it?
The two exited the Ollivanders with gloomy faces. Leanaul looked at that note about meeting at the Boathouse, grunted at how little information they got: “Ugh… if I found out who did this, their wand is definitely going missing in… a troll’s nose…”
“Hmm, I feel sorry for the perpetrator now.”
Despite Ominis fooling around with Leanaul, the news did worry him. As much as Miss Cheninx being… not too terrible of a guide, he didn’t like this at all—not knowing his surroundings, relying so much on others, his life out of his own control… He hated it when things went out of control.
Perhaps his face betrayed the concerns underneath that nonchalant attitude, Ominis felt a gentle touch on his shoulder from Leanaul. “Don’t worry, we will find it in time.” She smiled and promised, with all the seriousness in the world, and her voice grounded his fluttering thoughts.
“I suppose… finding my wand is easier than taking down a Goblin rebellion.”
“Precisely.”
The two young Slytherins now embarked on a journey all around Hogsmeade for the “gardening” assistance requested by Professor Weasley. According to the instructions, Professor’s old friend from her student times at Hogwarts hid some “rare floral seeds” across the village, and they needed to take a portion from each “seed stash”, went to a “secret parterre”, then planted the seeds in a very specific way.
Ominis had no idea what the purpose was for this whole task, but the fun it involved was right down Leanaul’s alley: the seeds were hidden in all the least expected but most inconvenient places possible, some of which can only be accessed by people who knew how not to be seen. Without a wand, he could only wait for Leanaul during some parts of it—after almost getting caught in the Hog’s Head just now, he had decided that’s enough excitement for the day.
“Ominis! I think these are the seeds of Honking Daffodils, but in different colours…” Leanaul snuck out of the Honeydukes with a small brown bag and ran to Ominis, panting and sharing her exciting new discovery with him, “Ha, looks like Professor Weasley had some very interesting friends back then…”
“Looks to me like she wants us to end up in Azkaban.” On the other hand, Ominis was simply happy that Leanaul made it out in one piece… and with nobody chasing after her, “That’s the last one, right? Shall we?”
The two headed to the said parterre tucked away in the woods near Dogweed and Deathcap, where these Honking Daffodil seeds should be planted. According to Professor’s note, the seeds must be laid in the earth in the pattern of a symbol called “Serch Bythol”, with each of them completing half of it—obviously, Ominis had to do his part with a little hand holding from Leanaul.
Once they each painted a Triquetra with these seeds on the fertile ground, the two classic Celtic Knots connected and comprised Serch Bythol. Right after the pattern was completed, Ominis could hear the sprouts growing out of the soil, their stems and leaves stretching, eventually blooming into beautiful bushes of flowers.
“Merlin’s beard! These are… pearlescent, rainbowy daffodils! How did they do it…”
Leanaul jumped around and marvelled in awe, which Ominis assumed meant they were successful. He could never know what pearlescent daffodils really meant, not even with his wand, but he could imagine their beauty from the passion in her voice.
“Wait… aren’t they supposed to be honking?” He asked, smiling before he even knew it.
His question reminded Leanaul. She looked at the to-do list for one more time, realizing they missed the final step: “Oh yeah, we are supposed to say a spell together in the end… it’s… mu kooish-la… mu kree?”
“…What kind of spell is that?”
“No idea, looks Gaelic to me…”
So the two practiced their pronunciations clumsily, and sure enough, when they happened to say the phrase out loud together, the daffodils began honking—but instead of making random loud noises as usual, they honked in distinguished notes and rhythms, playing a lovely melody with their goofy sounds.
Leanaul giggled, sat down beside this tiny parterre and listened for a while, recognizing the melody after a few seconds: “I know this song—it’s Irish, my nanny sang it all the time…”
She started humming to the honking daffodil tune, her gentle voice forming a ridiculous yet endearing contrast against it. Feeling like a break after a full day packed with actions and surprises, Ominis sat besides her, took a deep breath as he listened to her singing:
“The pale moon was rising above the green mountain,
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea…”
Perhaps living without the wand wasn’t completely meritless. Such strange notion suddenly popped up in Ominis’ head. Maybe it would finally convince his father that he wasn’t the special “promised child” of the family and leave him alone, and he would have more reasons for… occasions like this.
“Though lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
Yet it was not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, it was the truth in her eyes ever dawning…”
From the lyrics, Ominis could tell it was a romantic ballad, so whoever was the friend that created this magical parterre must be pretty… special to the Deputy Headmistress. Having suddenly connected the dots, he swallowed nervously and lowered his head, hoping nobody saw his reddening face.
What did “truth in her eyes” even mean… These poets always liked to write things that were utterly impossible to picture. It’s already hard enough for Ominis to construct what most people looked like, but for Leanaul it was exceptionally challenging, because everyone he knew told him she had the most unusual look— “her hair is like a billow of snow” according to Sebastian, which Ominis couldn’t understand for the life of him.
He fell asleep in these random thoughts, and Leanaul was nice enough to let him. When she woke him up, it was already late in the evening, so they headed straight to the Boathouse, waiting for the mysterious messenger who claimed to know the whereabouts of Ominis’ wand.
And he was on time—just as the midnight bell rang, Ominis heard the familiar whoosh of Apparition, followed by the distinctive footsteps that could only be made by a House Elf’s long, flat soles. “Scrope? I knew I saw that handwriting before…” Leanaul immediately recognized the author of the note.
The Elf who served the Headmaster? Ominis had a bad feeling about this: “What are you doing here, Scrope?”
“Miss Cheninx, young Master Gaunt,” Scrope bowed and answered, “Scrope don’t have much time, must keep things short—Master Gaunt’s wand was stolen and gifted to the Merpeople living in the Great Lake…”
This turn of events astonished the two young Slytherins. “…What!?” Leanaul cried out, “Who… Is this Nerida? Please tell me this is not one of her diplomatic efforts again…”
“Oh no no it’s not Miss Roberts’ doing, but the Merpeople won’t return the wand now, they think it belongs to them and have it stored in a guarded underwater trove…”
After pointing out the location of the forementioned treasure cave on Leanaul’s map, Scrope wanted to just turn around and leave with everything half-explained, but Ominis knew this House Elf was hiding something: “Wait a moment, Scrope, do you know who did this?”
“Scrope couldn’t tell, please… Scrope must go back immediately… Or it would be very very bad… Scrope shouldn’t be here…”
But when pressed with questions, this one-eared Elf simply covered his face and cried, the way he curled up and shivered in fear made Ominis give up on inquiring further. After Scrope left, Leanaul started thinking out loud on what really took place.
“Weird… if Scrope knew where the wand is, yet was so scared of telling us who did it, then chances are the Headmaster or someone in the Black family was involved.” Feeling perplexed, she looked to Ominis, “You crossed any of the Blacks recently, Ominis? So much so that they would do something this stupid? I thought you Gaunts are in good relationship with them…”
Her words stopped Ominis’ pacing. He thought quietly for a while, then shook his head with an ignorant and puzzled face: “No idea.”
Sometimes, he wished she wasn’t this perceptive.
Leanaul didn’t say anything more about this, but instead put down her satchel and started stretching her limbs: “Well then… I suppose it’s time to go take a dive into the mermaid cave…”
“No way! Are you out of your mind?” Ominis lodged his protest straight away, “Didn’t you hear Scrope? The Merpeople are protecting that place, and they know the lake way better than us… We should… go tell other professors, surely they will be able to help…”
But his voice weakened the more he spoke, as he gradually realized he didn’t have better alternatives either.
“You heard Mr. Ollivander today, Ominis, we can’t find a replacement for your wand, and you have to get it back as soon as possible—and if Professor Black, or any of his sons was responsible for this, you think they would allow any outsider to intervene? And even if we succeeded, it’s going to take forever for them to go through all the ‘bureaucracy procedures’, which I don’t think is going to be quick enough…” While trying to convince him, Leanaul took out something slimy and fishy from her satchel, “Besides, I came prepared.”
From that uniquely gross smell, Ominis could tell with no doubt what it was: “Gillyweed? How did you get that?”
“I told you, Sharp owed me big time. Oh, speaking of which, I also have a mysterious ally in the lake who can help me, so don’t worry too much…”
After showing off her secret weapon proudly, Leanaul started taking off her cloaks and school uniforms, the noises of pieces of clothing falling on the ground nearby made Ominis speechless. Every time he had a disagreement with this young lady, she always managed to make him compromise somehow. “At least you could tell me who your ally is, Miss Cheninx?” He sighed.
As Ominis finished that sentence, he suddenly felt a warm swirl of rose-scented air towards his face, followed by Leanaul’s soft voice: “You will see soon enough… before getting your wand back, I’m afraid this will have to do, Master Ominis.”
She put a chocolate wand in Ominis’ hand, which she probably “snuck” out from the Honeydukes while they were in Hogsmeade, then turned around, ate the Gillyweed and jumped into the Black Lake.
“…Why was she sorted into Slytherin in the first place?”
Dumbfounded, Ominis held the wand-shaped candy, tittered as he said to himself. Now he had no choice but to wait here at the Boathouse. The night was dark and there was no sound around here except the floating boats occasionally bumping into each other, so he couldn’t even find anything to distract his thoughts.
He wasn’t honest with Leanaul about the Black brothers before: they did have a… very unpleasant run-in just a few days ago, with Professor Black’s eldest son Sirius II, to be precise.
While all that Cheninx had achieved during her time here—outstanding grades, ability to wield ancient magic, stopping Ranrok and Rookwood, good relationships with faculties and students from other Houses, and so on—could build her a reputation decent enough to protect her from any bullying, it wouldn’t stop some Pure-Blood supremacists from badmouthing among themselves. She was a Muggle-born in Slytherin, after all.
Most of the time, Ominis paid no mind to these pathetic slanders. As a Gaunt who strongly opposed discrimination based on blood status, he was met with plenty of side eyes and mockeries from this bunch himself, so he was used to it more or less. But on that day, Sirius II made up some… extremely obscene rumours about himself, Sallow and Cheninx, right in front of him too, so Ominis felt compelled to stand up to this bully.
Sirius II’s little brother Phineas was there to mitigate, so the situation didn’t get out of hand, but he clearly remembered Sirius threatening to “make him pay” for what went down that day. By the looks of it, stealing Ominis’ wand was likely his pitiful idea of that.
“Hmpf, can’t even take a lost argument with grace…Miserable…”
Ominis scoffed at Sirius’ dishonoured behaviour, but soon he was caught off guard by a rumble from underneath the lake. It wasn’t a particularly strong one, not even strong enough to cause any big disturbance on the water surface, but at that moment, even the slightest movement was enough to break his cool.
Perhaps affected by Leanaul’s optimism, he was able to sit down and wait for a while, but that strange quake brought up all his concerns and anxieties again. How long had she been down there? Had Gillyweed’s effect worn off already? Did Scrope lie about the location of the wand? Ominis stood up and walked around in circles, soon starting to regret his decision before.
This seemed to be the cruel, reoccurring pattern of his life: witnessing people he cared about taking significant risks for their pursuits, time after time until it was too late, and even if he decided to intervene, it just didn’t seem to matter… It was the case for Aunt Noctua, for Sebastian too.
Would Leanaul… follow their footsteps?
Ominis shuddered at that thought. Never should have agreed to let her jump into that dangerous lake… he should have just told the professors and let the adults handle it… So what if the Headmaster was going to be embarrassed? So what if they might not act on time? He’d never risk her safety for a damned wand. Now he couldn’t do anything about it… because he’s blind and useless.
An anger grew inside him as these negativities festered in his mind, towards himself and towards Sirius II. If anything happened tonight… he would surely make that scoundrel know proper revenge.
That dark idea tore something apart in Ominis’ head, opening a dam of sort that he never knew existed, and what was locked behind it started leaking out. He felt an excruciating pain in his eyes, like a swarm of vicious snakes crawled out of his brain and bit them from the inside, injecting their venom into his eyeballs with their fangs. He fell on the knees and groaned in such agony, didn’t even notice that something surfaced out of the water not so far away.
“What’s wrong?”
Leanaul’s voice pulled him back to reality, and the aching in his eyes disappeared as quickly as it attacked, like it was all but a bad dream, though he still felt exhausted because of those extreme sensations. Ominis sat up, holding himself with two hands on the floor and slowly opened his eyelids, but he soon felt a… tingling, radiant heat upon his eyes, which hurt him a little at first, but he quickly adjusted to it by doing a few blinks.
Wait… did he just…
After almost a minute of silent shock, Ominis finally realized—he just saw light.
His vision was quite blurry, but good enough for him to make out things around himself: his hands, the sleeves of his Slytherin uniform suit, the grey, wet stone floor of the Boathouse, the wooden long boats lining up along the water bank, the orange halos from the torches on the walls… all the objects, colors and textures that he used to only know the names of finally came alive, matching themselves with what he saw.
“Ominis… are you ok?”
Leanaul swam closer and called to him again, her tone getting increasingly worried. Ominis quickly turned around to face the lake, forcing his eyesight to focus, so that he could imprint everything in front of him into his mind as clear as possible.
He saw a young girl in thin, laced undergarments, floating in the pitch-dark body of the lake. Her long, wavy, snow-coloured hair danced and weaved with the rippled reflections of the moon, glistening drops of water dripping from her nose tip and cupid’s bow, her white eyelashes fluttering because of the cold. Underneath the surface, the Giant Squid—presumably her mysterious ally in the lake—was holding and lifting her by the feet with its soft yet resilient tentacles, while flapping at the water around her in a naive, playful way, like it was a young knight proudly returning the princess to her castle.
The scene left Ominis speechless. He had read many writings before, fictional or historical tales about adventures, love, honour, beauty, and all the fantastic things, depicted with the most extravagant words. He often tried to piece together what those could look like in real life, like a curious child playing with a complex puzzle, and always thought the solution to such a challenging enigma must be incredibly intricate, yet when the answer was right in front of him, it seemed so… obvious.
Not knowing what Ominis was going through, Leanaul was astounded by his reaction. “Hey… it’s ok Ominis,” She got close slowly, sat on the floor of the Boathouse, looking at him with her gentle, silver eyes, “See, I got your wand back—”
Ominis took her in his arms and buried his face on her shoulder, not saying anything. He couldn’t care for breaking the proper etiquettes and all right now, just wanted to make sure all of this was real. All of his sad, dark emotions before seemed laughable, like a Boggart under the Riddikulus spell.
Glad that Ominis at least gave her some responses, Leanaul smiled and leaned her head against his: “This isn’t a bathhouse, Master Ominis, the water in the lake is very dirty… don’t complain about me staining your suit later.”
“So you do know the lake isn’t a place for pleasure diving, Miss Cheninx? Then how could you be so careless? Aren’t you supposedly a member of nobility in the Muggle world…”
Now that she returned, Ominis felt a heavy weight lifted from his shoulder. He opened his eyes when letting go of Leanaul, but this time, what greeted him was the same total blackness that he had always seen.
He turned blind again.
Ominis stared blankly in disbelief, even Leanaul’s colourful account of her journey into the Merpeople treasure trove couldn’t lighten his moods. She talked about how she befriended the Giant Squid with toasts, asked the Squid to pretend it clashed with the trove by accident, and retrieved the wand covertly while the Merpeople were busy with repairing the treasure cave, but all he could think about was how meaningless it all was if he couldn’t see it with his own eyes.
Though when Leanaul placed the wand back in Ominis’ hand, the familiar grip of the wand handle and the information it faithfully conveyed to his mind helped him calm down—he felt assured that things were back to how they had been.
Don’t hope for too much, Ominis. He warned himself. Don’t wish for something you can’t have and forget what you already own, like Mr. Sallow did… He had his wand back so quickly, and Leanaul was unharmed, what more could he ask for?
“What happened to you just now, by the way?” Leanaul asked, throwing a toast to the Giant Squid to show her gratitude, “You looked like you lost your soul back there…”
“Nothing. I… thought I could see for a moment, that’s all.” Ominis regained his composure quickly.
“Really? You sure you don’t want to look into it? Maybe we can…”
“Oh… please show me some mercy, Miss Cheninx, haven’t you had enough excitement today?”
Leanaul pouted and snorted, unhappy with Ominis’ non-stop lecturing, but instead of arguing with him about it as usual, she thought for a moment and grabbed his hand out of the blue, shouted in a dramatic astonishment: “Oh no! The choco wand…”
Now that she mentioned it, Ominis started to feel an unpleasant stickiness in his right hand—while he was waiting in the Boathouse, the chocolate candy was probably crushed in his palm when he was feeling distressed, and some bits of it melted on his skin.
“Come on, Ominis, if you don’t like chocolates, you can save it for me! Don’t you know how disgusting Gillyweed tastes? I was hoping I could use the candy to cancel out some of that bitterness… Is that how you repay me for getting your precious wand back…”
Aware of Leanaul’s obsession with anything sweet, Ominis simply sat there, surrendered his hand to her and listened to her mumbles, the corners of his mouth going up without him knowing:
“Alright, I will buy you sweets for the whole semester, Leanaul, if that will…"
Suddenly, he felt some strange wet sensations on his fingertips, like his hand just touched and dipped a little into a cup of soft, bouncy fruit jelly… and then, a supple, pliant tip poked out of the jelly and rubbed against the pulps of his fingers, taking away some of the chocolate smudge.
Ominis was stunned, his face so flushed like steam was about to blow out of his ears. He didn’t even understand what just happened until Leanaul started grinning happily.
“Miss Cheninx!” He immediately pulled his hand back, barely putting together a sentence, “How could you do… do something so… indecent…”
His shyness only added to Leanaul’s pleasure: “Well if you don’t like it, Master Ominis, you can just tell me to stop…”
“I…”
Ominis knew very well that, Leanaul called him this way to make fun of his Pure-Blood status—from his family, which he resented the most, but somehow when she said it… he didn’t mind it at all.
“You… are such a trouble, Leanaul.” That’s all he could muster after a long embarrassing silence.
