Chapter 9. January 10, 1891

Another tormenting night of sleeplessness, where slumber eludes you despite your repeated calls for it, no matter how hard you squeeze your eyes shut or attempt to lie perfectly still while counting sheep. Your agitated mind refuses to accept the safety of the situation, relentlessly sending nervous signals to your limbs, compelling you to twist and turn, and let out weary sighs. Outwitting it by shifting your thoughts elsewhere becomes futile; the moment it detects the diversion, it swiftly pulls you back to the surface, inundating you with thoughts that seem foreign and at odds with your usual self. Such a state has never visited you before, and these emotions are entirely new; can this really be your life now?

For what felt like the thousandth time, Ominis shifted to his other side. The sheets beneath him clung damply and awkwardly, pressing uncomfortably against his ribs. The blanket swung between unbearably hot, prompting him to cast it aside, and terribly thin, failing to stave off the shivers that gripped him and the chattering of his teeth. His attempts to logically parse what had transpired between them and the words Sebastian had uttered afterwards got tangled in emotions that felt unfamiliar to Ominis, entwined with an intense yearning to repeat it all as soon as possible.

The trembling remnants of arousal softly scratched at him from within, causing him to vividly recall every nuance of his sensations, envisioning how it might have appeared from an outsider's perspective, replaying those same touches in his mind ad infinitum. He dreaded the arrival of morning because it would demand he focus on different matters, engage in activities, and engage in conversations about entirely different topics. But, inevitably, the night drew to a close, and he sought to prolong it in his mind as much as he could.

Sebastian reclined, his hands resting behind his head, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as he stared at the ceiling, attuned to the sounds emanating from the nearby bed. He could have murmured comforting words to Ominis, engaged him in conversation to soothe his nerves. He might have even slipped beneath the covers with him, unperturbed by any potential audience witnessing their intimacy. Yet, he savored the trembling anticipation that he had ignited within Ominis. He reveled in being the source of his friend's restless nights, his heightened sensitivity, and passionate arousal. It could be that Ominis had always harbored these emotions, and it was only now that Sebastian had unlocked this sweet, hidden core.

His gaze shifted towards Ominis, and a small rise in his chest followed as various moments of this night, now well-captured in his memory, flashed across his mind. Here stood the charming and drowsy Ominis, clad in pajamas by the stairs, hesitating to approach; and then, there he was, beneath him — a corrupted yet delicate flower with quivering, dewy petals. Sebastian moistened his parched lips, a contented smirk gracing his face once more.

As the first rays of dawn caressed Sebastian's face, causing him to grimace and turn away, he concluded that there was no sense in attempting sleep until noon, as he presumed his dormitory mates would. After all, he hadn't managed to unveil the relic's location yesterday, so why not address it this morning instead of chasing elusive sleep? Fully stretching across the bed, he swung his feet off to the floor, gathering the strength to hoist his entire body after them. With a sudden jerk, he sat upright, rubbing his face with his palms, letting out a wide yawn, and squinting, he surveyed the gradually brightening dormitory, pausing his gaze on his slumbering classmates. Indeed, they were soundly, and seemingly for a while.

Silently, he made his way to Ominis' bed, leaning over him and trailing his fingers along his cheek, admiring the fluttering closed eyelids.

"I know you're not sleeping, Ominis. Come with me to the shower," he whispered, still observing his friend's face.

"To the shower? With you? Why?" stammered Ominis, flipping onto his back and attempting to sit up. But Sebastian, who towered over him, prevented him from doing so.

"Don't you need to freshen up after yesterday, hmm?" Sebastian teased, his tone seductive, leaning even closer. Ominis' chest began to rise and fall faster, a pink flush creeping onto his cheeks, "I'll wait for you there."

Sebastian got out of Ominis' bed, grabbed a towel from the dresser, and silently headed to the bathroom. Once there, he deliberately undressed slowly, neatly folding his clothes (something he had never done before), examining himself in the mirror, all the while listening for any sounds of footsteps from the bedroom. With a satisfied tilt of his chin, he smiled at his reflection, hearing the quiet commotion behind the door. He turned on the shower, stepped under the hot streams, and closed his eyes. There was no longer a sense that the water could wash away the traces of Ominis' kisses and touches because now those kisses and touches truly belonged to him, and Ominis himself belonged to him. The realization swirled in his head like the finest red currant rum. This wonderful being, the dearest in the world, this reserved and uncommunicative boy who quickly became his best friend, this damaged and troubled soul that had been so afraid to open up for so long, was now his. Sebastian's heart raced faster as his thoughts took a different turn, posing the question, "don't you belong to him as well?"

Sebastian snapped back to reality as he heard the sound of the closing door. Without opening his eyes, he listened intently to the soft, hesitant slaps of bare feet on the cold, wet tiles. Sneaking a glance over his shoulder, he watched Ominis begin to remove his pajamas, neatly placing them beside Sebastian's clothes. Every movement exuded grace, as if he were not just able to see but also a regular attendee of balls, dancing better than any adult gentleman. Sebastian kept an unwavering gaze on him, like a wild lynx watching an unsuspecting rabbit. He reached out, abruptly yet tenderly grabbed Ominis by the elbow, and pulled him into the cascading water. Pressing his lips voraciously against Ominis', he pulled his beautiful body close, trailing his palms over the marble-smooth skin. But within seconds, Ominis pulled away and spat out water that had unexpectedly entered his mouth when he found himself under the stream. Both of them chuckled softly, still embracing each other. Thinking they had soaked enough, Sebastian turned off the water and began to lather Ominis' hair, gently rinsing away any foam that landed on his face. In hushed tones, they exchanged casual chatter, cautiously avoiding sensitive topics. Sebastian's hands glided over Ominis' body, spreading the soap farther and lower. He carefully turned him around, massaging his shoulders and back. Ominis felt Sebastian crouch down and grasp his damp thighs, gently touching them with his lips and tongue. In response, he let out a sensuous sigh and immediately jumped from the unexpected bite on his buttock.

"Ouch, Sebastian! What are you doing?!" Ominis turned indignantly towards his friend, who was laughing playfully.

"Your butt just looks too delicious," Sebastian continued to chuckle, scooping some lather from Ominis' body and smearing it on himself.

"You fool," Ominis said with a smile, grumbling. He discreetly located the faucets, pressed against the wall, and suddenly turned on the cold water. With a yelp, Sebastian leaped out of the shower, cursing loudly, rubbing himself with his hands, and laughing.

***

"Sebastian, I brought us sandwiches and pumpkin juice. We can't ignore both breakfast and lunch all day long," Ominis said, squeezing into the crypt with the food.

"Thanks. What would I do without you," Sebastian smiled, still not taking his eyes off the book in front of him.

Ominis let out a soft, melancholic sigh as he placed the tray on the floor and settled closer to Sebastian. His friend immersed himself in dark arts with such fervor, as if he were searching not only for a way to save Anne, and it saddened Ominis deeply. How could he pull Sebastian out of this abyss? Ominis didn't know the answer, just as he didn't know what he would do if Sebastian truly became a dark wizard. Perhaps he should replace "if" with "when," as his friend was heading further and more confidently down that path, and with each step, turning back became increasingly difficult. Would he have to join the evil he had been trying to escape all his life? Or was Sebastian a different kind of evil? And, more importantly, could evil be different, not as cruel and destructive? If Sebastian was capable of something good and bright, like love and caring for Anne, or like what was happening now between them, was he also capable of true evil?

These and dozens of other questions swarmed in Ominis' mind like painful stinging bees. He didn't want to answer them. He didn't want anyone else to answer them either, as the answers would likely not bring him joy. His head slowly leaned against Sebastian's shoulder, his breathing slowed, and his eyelids closed. The cool air of the crypt no longer smelled of dampness; it was filled with the scent of freshly blooming flowers in the summer at Feldcroft. In his dream, Ominis saw the three of them carefree, spending another summer as guests at uncle Solomon's, who hadn't yet turned into a perpetually grumpy curmudgeon. They chased gnomes out of the garden with cheerful shouts in the early morning, drank icy tea in the backyard, and argued about who would sleep on the floor that day, because there were only two beds in the room.

His sleep was abruptly interrupted when Sebastian, seemingly oblivious, excitedly jerked himself, knocking Ominis' head off his shoulder. Ominis let out a disgruntled snort, leaning his back against the wall, and listened to the sound of quick, nervous footsteps approaching and then receding. Sebastian was muttering something under his breath, shuffling papers. Once again, he sat on the floor next to Ominis, and Ominis heard the scratch of a quill and heavy, tense breathing. Ominis became anxious. It seemed as if Sebastian had completely forgotten that he was there, as if he were alone in the room, not bothering to pay attention to his friend's bewilderment or explain what had happened. Ominis took a deep breath, trying to calm his rising unease, and gently touched Sebastian's thigh, as if attempting to soothe not only him but also his own anxiety with a calm gesture.

"What happened?" he asked cautiously, running his fingers over the taut fabric of his friend's trousers.

"I'm such an idiot, Ominis. It turned out to be so simple. If I had been a little more attentive, we would have found Slytherin's relic long ago," Sebastian began to lament, absentmindedly covering Ominis' hand with his own, "it was right under our noses all this time, can you believe it? Not far from Feldcroft. We can go there and back right now. We need to write to Anne urgently. We're so close to being able to cure her, you know?"

Sebastian spoke without stopping, nervously tapping Ominis' fingers. His voice would stumble at the most inappropriate moments, then race madly again, as if running downhill. His heart pounded in his throat, breaths came short, struggling to keep up with the torrent of words racing through his mind. Every muscle in his body tensed, trembling with the desire to rush out of Hogwarts right away, to seize the long-awaited hope, to take it into his hands, examine it closely, and finally put it to use. He felt like he was burning with fever, trying to grasp the reality that what he had long sought, the one chance he truly believed in, was now so close. His gaze, as if already beyond the crypt's walls, in that other dungeon, was fixed on the invisible artifact before him, and a half-mad smile appeared on his face. He turned to Ominis, took his face rather abruptly in his hands, and whispered, "we're almost there, Ominis. Soon, everything will be as it was before. Even better."

Ominis flinched, frightened by the new dark undertone that surfaced in Sebastian's voice. A shade of obsession. Fear was evident on his face, and Sebastian couldn't help but notice. He started to soothingly stroke Ominis' cheek and fervently reassured him that the ritual involving the artifact would likely be no more dangerous than their adventures in the scriptorium.

"Sebastian, I'm afraid not of the ritual itself, but of what it's doing to you and the danger you're exposing not only yourself but also your sister to. Can't you hear yourself? Where is your reason? Do you want to drag Anne into the unknown? There could be traps, dangers, anything in those dungeons. The relic itself could cause harm until you figure out how to handle it," Ominis tried to reason with his friend, but Sebastian seemed not to be listening, insisting that they had no time to wait and that they must inform Anne immediately.

When Sebastian took out a clean sheet of parchment to start writing the letter, Ominis let out a desperate groan, clutching his head and moving to the other end of the crypt. He was desperately thinking of ways to stop Sebastian, to make him understand that rushing after this relic without knowing anything more about it, except that it can remove dark curses, could lead to anything. There could be horribly dangerous creatures lurking in those dungeons; after all, such an item surely couldn't be left unguarded. Lost in his thoughts, he listened to the hurried scratching of Sebastian's quill on the paper.

"Why send the letter now? You'll have to use the school owl, and it will surely attract attention at Feldcroft. Solomon might notice it. Wait until Anne writes to you herself, then send her a reply using their owl. Please, Sebastian, listen," nervously spoke Ominis, trying to appeal to his friend's reason with the last arguments he had. Talking about the dangers of the dungeon and the relic itself seemed futile, but attempting to influence him through the risk of using a different owl instead of the family one might work.

"Ominis, my uncle isn't that clueless. He probably knows we exchange letters, maybe even suspects we meet sometimes. He allows it to happen because isolating us from Anne completely is impossible," Sebastian said confidently and irritably waved the quill, as if hinting that his friend should better stay quiet and let him finish the letter.

"It's not about that. It's about the suspicious urgency. You've never sent Anne unscheduled letters with unfamiliar owls, only responses to hers. Precisely because Solomon isn't dumb, he'll start suspecting something. You'll have to thank all the gods if he decides not to open the letter," Ominis continued to plead, feeling the desperation and anger boiling inside him. He couldn't simply make Sebastian listen to him. And Sebastian, under the influence of emotions, not only never listened to anyone but also couldn't analyze his own actions, probably relying on his luck, which he, of course, wasn't lacking.

Sebastian indifferently ignored Ominis' words, rereading what he had written. He was determined to set off for the relic as soon as possible, so it was absolutely necessary for him to inform Anne about everything and arrange a meeting with her. Convinced that everything was written clearly, he folded the piece of parchment and tied it with a bit of string. He glanced at Ominis, who stood near the far wall, feigning indifference. Sebastian theatrically sighed and approached him closely, placing his palm against the wall right next to Ominis' face. He leaned in, listening to his friend's quickened breath. Ominis seemed to be trying to turn away even more, although his neck physically couldn't twist any farther. His face showed hurt and irritation, along with anxiety and anger. His lips were slightly contorted in displeasure, and he seemed determined not to say anything more. That's when Sebastian gently pressed his lips against Ominis' neck, moving slowly downward, trying to get Ominis to relax even just a bit.

"Forgive me. I constantly make thoughtless impulsive actions. But that's one of the reasons why you like me, isn't it?" Sebastian whispered against Ominis' skin, his lips gently touching it.

"Damn idiot, you don't need to apologize to me right now and you shouldn't be thinking about me. You should be thinking about yourself and Anne, about your future, which won't exist if Solomon finds out about your plans. This time it won't end with just being forbidden to show up at his doorstep," Ominis replied in a hoarse, quiet voice, struggling to keep his drooping eyelids open due to the pleasure.

"It's time you stopped insulting me, Ominis. It's the second time today," Sebastian firmly held his chin and turned his face toward him, "everything will be fine, you'll see."

"Yeah, right. You said the same thing last time," Ominis faltered, his voice trembled betrayingly, "I don't want to lose you, Sebastian. And you're doing everything to get into trouble you won't be able to get out of."

"I promise I'll get out of it. Even better, I promise I won't get into it," Sebastian slowly pulled away, running his fingers along Ominis' cheek, "wait for me here. I'll just send the owl and come right back."

Sebastian gave Ominis an impulsive peck on the lips, not giving him a chance to respond, and rushed out of the crypt, heading towards the owlery. Ominis touched his lips, his neck, and became even angrier at himself for succumbing once again to these devilish charms and not trying to follow after him.

***

Solomon Sallow was busy with his tasks in the backyard, absentmindedly whistling a light tune and occasionally rubbing his frost-chilled hands together. He noticed an owl approaching their house. Standing up, he shielded his eyes with his hand to get a better look, avoiding the blinding sunlight. He wasn't expecting any letters, and moreover, even their family owl was at home, not delivering Anne's usual responses to notes from her "friends from Hogwarts." Solomon had a suspicion that if not all, then many of these notes were sent by Sebastian. But he could only grumble and sigh, letting Anne read them and send something back in a few days. After all, they were siblings, and those ties meant something, so he didn't want to completely break their connection, pretending to believe in the stories about her friends. But today's owl was unexpected. Disheveled, with a hastily tied letter to its leg, a letter that miraculously didn't get lost along the way, sent on a day when Solomon was always at home. This owl was clearly urgent and unplanned.

When it landed on the windowsill of Anne's room and tapped the glass with its beak, Solomon grew wary. If Anne was expecting a letter, she always left the window slightly open so he wouldn't overhear. "How dare he openly break my rule like this? He thinks that just because I turn a blind eye to their 'secret' correspondence, he can go completely overboard? Something is definitely not right here," Solomon thought to himself, scratching his beard. Frowning and growing increasingly annoyed, he headed inside the house, determined to find out what was written in that letter no matter what.