Chapter 12. June, 1888

Anne woke up to the soft giggling coming from somewhere nearby, but she didn't open her eyes. Instead, she turned her face toward the warm, caressing rays of the sun streaming in through the window. A faint smile touched her lips as she listened to the birdsong outside and inhaled the still-cool air, infused with the aroma of sweet pastries wafting in from somewhere down the street. Probably the neighbor was baking her delicious cinnamon rolls again. Finally, the school routine was behind her, and she could thoroughly enjoy the long, hot days and cheerful, sleepless nights.

"Sebastian, get this out of here! It's not funny at all," she heard Ominis' annoyed whisper and the sounds of movement.

"Oh, come on, just look at it! Have you ever seen anything like this? Probably only found in the Forbidden Forest now," Sebastian responded in an amazed whisper, tapping something on the floor.

"No, Sebastian, I haven't seen it," a dramatic pause hung in the air, followed by both boys bursting into laughter, fully waking up Anne. She turned onto her side, opened one eye, and looked at them.

Sebastian held two enormous spider legs in his hands, or rather, the hardened shells that remained of them, and he mimicked stepping with them on the floor, slowly approaching Ominis, who was sitting on the bed, completely unsuspecting. A wave of disgust ran through her body, causing her to flinch and move away from the edge of the bed. Sebastian, instantly noticing her reaction, slyly glanced in her direction and turned around, now mimicking steps toward her bed. Screaming, she jumped to her feet right on the mattress, threw the blanket over her brother, and, as he struggled to get free, with laughter, dashed out of the room and ran downstairs.

In the kitchen, uncle Solomon was preparing breakfast and looked at her in surprise as she flew into his arms, trying to hide from Sebastian, who surely had already extricated himself from his cottony prison. And indeed, not thirty seconds passed before she heard her brother leap from the railing, and now he was heading toward the kitchen. Following him, a yawning, tousled Ominis entered, cautiously touching the wall and stepping carefully. He had been staying in this house for the summer for the third year in a row and had gotten to know it quite well, allowing him to move around without his wand, but still, he tentatively reached for objects around him every time. Their uncle instructed all three to wash up and get ready for breakfast, while he set the table, humming something cheerful and lively under his breath.

"Today, I'll need to head to London for some business. If you want, I can take you with me. You can wander around Diagon Alley or find something else to do. After all, we'll have to spend the whole summer in Feldcroft again," unexpectedly suggested uncle Solomon, eating his scrambled eggs and washing them down with a large gulp of coffee.

The teenagers exchanged suspicious glances, and gradually anticipatory smiles played on their faces as they nodded in agreement. The conversation around the table buzzed about where exactly they should visit, what to see, buy, and try. For the past three years, they had only ventured to London right before the start of the new school year to purchase new textbooks and other supplies. Although Ominis, Anne, and Sebastian all lived not far from the big city before attending Hogwarts, none of them had returned to their respective homes, not even during breaks: Ominis had tried to sever all ties with his family, not even responding to their letters, while the twins' parents were constantly absent due to work and hadn't sent a single message to their children during this time, which was rather odd considering their strong attachment to them. Thus, the trio spent their breaks together in uncle Solomon's house, which he gladly welcomed as a way to break his solitude.

Anne was the first to rush back upstairs to her room to get ready for the trip. It was a solemn occasion for her, so dressing and styling herself appropriately was a must. The boys sighed in frustration, realizing that for the next quarter-hour she wouldn't let them into the room where they all had spent the night. They headed outside to pass the time, practicing spells they had learned in their third year. If Sebastian did it merely for fun, imagining himself as an accomplished dark wizard and a powerful magician, Ominis was always focused on the outcome and precision, constantly feeling vulnerable due to his blindness and striving to enhance his skills as much as possible. Only when he was with Sebastian and Anne did he relax his guard and allow himself to unwind, sometimes even letting go of his magic wand.

When Anne came downstairs, she was radiant in her favorite bright green dress with lacing at the back. A matching ribbon was woven into her hair, which was gathered in an intricate braid, and her eyes gleamed with festive anticipation.

"I don't think we'll run into Garrett Weasley in Diagon Alley in early June. So you're dressing up like it's a date for no reason," Sebastian smirked, glancing at his sister.

"Sebastian! I've only talked to him once after class, and it was about homework! Don't talk nonsense!" Anne shot a wary glance at Ominis, as the Weasley offspring truly held no interest for her. However, she was curious about Ominis's reaction to Sebastian's statement.

"I think he can't take his eyes off my favorite little sister ever since then," Sebastian continued, relishing in his sister's irritation.

"You idiot!" she exclaimed in frustration, looking at Ominis again for a moment. He seemed entirely uninterested in the situation. She couldn't decide whether his lack of interest disappointed her or actually reassured her, "you better leave and get ready, or we'll end up staying home because of you."

"It's not us who occupied the room for so long," Sebastian countered, but he still headed inside and pulled Ominis along with him. Ominis had managed to attract the attention of a neighbor's cat and was leaning down to pet the creature, which was rubbing against his ankle.

Quickly throwing on the first piece of clothing that fell out of the wardrobe and running his fingers through his hair a few times, Sebastian flopped onto the bed while waiting for Ominis to deal with his trousers and shirt. He observed with interest how his friend would carefully feel the clothes to determine which side was which, forgetting at times that Ominis couldn't see. Sebastian had become so accustomed to Ominis's behavior, which was sometimes unconventional for sighted people, that he occasionally forgot his friend's unique peculiarity. But in moments like these, when he could simply observe Ominis, Sebastian felt as if he was discovering this aspect anew, seeing not a flaw but a strange allure in it. He pondered how difficult it must be to live among those who perceive the world differently. Ominis had never shared with him how he came to be blind, and Sebastian suspected that there was likely an unpleasant story behind it. He continued to lock his gaze onto Ominis, watching as he searched the bedside table for a comb. The comb had fallen to the floor when Anne had accidentally brushed it off the table with a blanket. Sebastian got up from the bed, picked it up, and approached Ominis from behind, causing him to straighten up and become alert in an instant.

"What's wrong?" Ominis asked, not turning around but poised to step aside at any moment. Despite the long-standing trust between them, he still wasn't entirely comfortable when Sebastian or Anne got too close to him.

"I found your comb on the floor," Sebastian said, reaching out with it toward his friend's hair, "let me help you, and in return, you can tell me how you actually lost your sight. We're best friends, and there shouldn't be any secrets between us. I don't have any secrets from you."

Ominis let out a tense sigh, unsure if he was ready to share something so personal even with Sebastian. It was something very private, very painful, something that still haunted him at night. But he suspected that sooner or later he would have to tell about it, because the strength to battle it alone would eventually wane, and Sebastian would never stop asking. Ominis pressed his lips into a thin, straight line, closed his eyelids, and tried to steady his breathing. Sebastian watched his face closely in the mirror hanging across from them, gently touched his hair with the tips of the comb's teeth. The reflection flinched and opened its eyes in fear, but it didn't move, frozen like a statue. Slowly, Sebastian brushed through his hair again, and again, and again. "So soft and smooth, almost like a girl's," he thought with surprise, taking a strand between his fingers to feel it more closely. Ominis remained silent, contemplating whether to start telling the story, and Sebastian didn't try to rush him, sensing his mood and hesitation. When every strand of hair was neatly in place, Sebastian placed the comb back on the nightstand and turned to leave the room, not having received a response. But upon hearing a quiet, slightly trembling voice behind him, he stopped.

"Back then, I was nine years old. I've already told you how Marvolo liked to torment me and the Muggles," Ominis spoke almost in a whisper, omitting details, not mentioning his feelings or pain, just stating dry facts. Sometimes his voice would tremble uncontrollably, and then he would fall silent for a few long seconds, allowing himself to catch his breath. He hadn't expected that verbalizing this story would be so physically challenging. It felt like the words were getting stuck in his throat, causing spasms, and his eyes would start to sting traitorously, "at first, I was constantly covered in bruises and scratches from falls, collisions, and such. Well, more bruises and scratches than usual. I even broke my arm once. Then my mom got me that magic wand to somehow make life a bit easier."

Ominis fell silent and let out a relieved sigh. Strangely, he felt a peculiar lightness when silence finally hung in the air. There was no tension, awkwardness, or regret in it; it enveloped him like a soothing presence. The void in his soul, whose edges had long turned to stone with no hope of ever healing, pulsed painfully, yet this pulsation seemed to diminish slightly. Ominis continued to stand with his back to Sebastian, listening to the silence and his friend's quiet breathing. Sebastian turned around, walked back, and hesitantly placed his hand on Ominis's shoulder, thinking that this is how adults offer support to each other.

"Thanks for sharing that. Your trust means a lot to me," Sebastian murmured, uttering a phrase that was new to him, one he had heard only in adult conversations, now truly grasping its meaning. It genuinely touched him that Ominis had finally decided to confide in him about something he hadn't shared with anyone before. At the same time, a dreadful realization dawned on him about why his friend was so reluctant to engage with his own relatives.

***

Anne, Sebastian, and Ominis sat on the summer terrace of Florian Fortescue's Ice-cream Parlor, enjoying their enormous sweet frozen treats that lay in their cups before them. Sebastian had ordered the classic combination of chocolate with nuts, generously drizzled with gooey caramel. Anne, with her eyes closed, savored the strawberry-vanilla blend with frozen peppermint crystals. Ominis had chosen an unusual, almost unsweetened mixture of lavender and apple, which made Sebastian look at him as if he were crazy. Diagon Alley during this time of year was semi-empty, with some shops like "Flourish and Blotts" even closed for the holidays, but there was a special unhurried summer atmosphere about it. The sun barely filtered through the dense rows of buildings that seemed to lean towards each other, further concealing the narrow alleyway. Anne let out a relaxed sigh and leaned back on her chair, squinting as she gazed at the strip of nearly cloudless blue sky above them. In the distance, the hooting of awake owls and the meowing of cats could be heard. Across the street from them, in Madam Malkin's shop, a tall girl twirled around, selecting a festive robe, visible through the tall windows. The conversation among the trio lazily meandered, as the heat made its presence felt both inside and outside, despite the deliciously cooling ice cream. Sebastian rocked on his chair and didn't even attempt to come up with anything amusingly original for each of Anne's remarks. Occasionally, he cast a glance at Ominis, who seemed entirely engrossed in his food, hardly reacting to the rare exchanges among friends. Something inside Sebastian stirred strangely after that conversation, and he tried to comprehend what it was all about.

When they had nearly finished their portions, Anne noticed uncle Solomon approaching from the other end of the street. His face bore a deep look of concern, and he walked slowly, lost in thought and not even glancing at his charges. His usually cheerful demeanor had faded, his face darkened; he seemed to have aged suddenly by about ten years. "Let's go to the 'Leaky Cauldron'," he muttered as he passed the terrace, not even looking up or stopping. Anne and Sebastian exchanged troubled glances, quickly shoveled another spoonful of ice cream into their mouths, and stood up. Ominis rose as well, and the three of them followed the silent Solomon Sallow, refraining from asking him any questions, their anxious anticipation hanging heavily in the air.

The four of them settled at a back table in the corner, and uncle Solomon wasted no time downing a glass of firewhisky, immediately ordering another. He indifferently asked the children if they wanted anything, but they only cautiously shook their heads, continuing to watch the abruptly changed adult with apprehension. His gaze seemed distant, his eyes as if veiled by mist, with moisture flickering in their corners. New deep wrinkles etched across his nose, the corners of his lips were downturned, and a surprising streak of gray gleamed in his disheveled hair, something Anne and Sebastian had never noticed before. His voice was utterly colorless and detached, hushed and muffled. His fingers nervously tapped on the empty glass, and his foot, crossed over the other, twitched restlessly from side to side.

"Anne, Sebastian," he addressed his nephews, not even lifting his eyes to them. He spoke very slowly, constantly pausing to take in air, which seemed to run out after almost every word he uttered, "I was at the Ministry today. They summoned me for an urgent matter. It's about your parents... About my brother and his wife... We've been under the impression that they were still on assignments and that's why they haven't been in touch. But at the Ministry, they've long been classified as missing. Damn bureaucratic fools!" the teenagers exchanged surprised glances, as their uncle had never allowed himself to use such language in their presence, "today they informed me that they've finally found your parents. Or rather, what's left of them. They are dead."

Solomon Sallow once again downed a whole glass of whiskey, and now his gaze finally focused on the teenagers sitting before him. He had no idea what to say or do in such situations, so he simply sat in tense silence, waiting. The corner of Sebastian's mouth twitched, his left eyebrow arched in surprise and disbelief, and a suppressed chuckle escaped his lips. What nonsense was this man spouting now, so unlike their real uncle? In his peripheral vision, he noticed Anne press her hands to her mouth in fear and tremble, instantly believing this dreadful lie. On the other side, Ominis, his mouth hanging open in shock, quickly turned his face away, not wanting to show his emotions to those sitting beside him. No. This couldn't be true. Their parents had disappeared for extended periods of time before due to their work. The Ministry must have made a mistake, and this news must be about someone else's family, not theirs. They needed to go back and talk to them again, to clarify the situation.

Sebastian stood up abruptly and decisively from the table, causing the chair behind him to topple with a crash. He voiced his intentions out loud and froze, waiting for the others to rise and follow suit. However, uncle Solomon only looked at him with concern and pulled out a bundle from his inner pocket, containing two wands that couldn't be mistaken for any others, even though they were charred. The smell of ash and death still emanated from them, penetrating deep into the mind, conveying that not even a grain of their owners could have survived. Anne burst into loud sobs, pressing her hands to her chest, folding in agony over the loss. Sebastian recoiled in horror, his face contorted with a grimace of hatred and disgust, and he instantly bolted out of the pub, struggling to remain conscious. All the patrons turned to their table at once but quickly returned to their own affairs, not wanting to interfere in an obviously tragic situation. Ominis clenched the armrests so tightly that his fingers ached, his breathing agitated. He had no idea what to do, whom to rush to help first among his two friends. When he heard Solomon get up and tightly embrace the sobbing Anne, he leaped to his feet and followed Sebastian, knocking over a couple of chairs along the way. He desperately wanted to help him, even though he didn't know how, as he had never had someone whose death he could mourn. Or did he now? For the first time, he felt something akin to pain not due to his own tragedy, but because he empathized with someone else's.

On the street, using his wand, he tried to spot among the drifting blurry silhouettes even one that resembled Sebastian, but he couldn't. They all looked practically the same. His heart raced with fear that Sebastian might do something reckless to himself or someone else. He ran towards the path leading to the main chimney with Floo Powder in the alley, through which Sebastian could have gone to the Ministry, which had delivered such bad news to his uncle. Of course, Sebastian was there. But he wasn't attempting to travel anywhere; he simply stood before the massive fireplace arch, as tall as an adult, staring straight ahead. Ominis immediately recognized him, not by his barely distinguishable blurry outline, but by his loud, heavy breathing, by the sweet scent of chocolate, nuts, and caramel. Now it was Ominis's turn to put his hand on his friend's shoulder. When he did so, Sebastian turned abruptly, gripping Ominis tightly in melancholic embrace, as if trying to use it to silence the wound that was slowly tearing open inside him. He howled, burying his face in Ominis's shoulder. Ominis swallowed nervously but gently wrapped his arms around the trembling Sebastian, hoping it would provide at least some comfort. How long they stood like that—no one knows. At some point, Sebastian released Ominis and simply walked back to the Leaky Cauldron without saying a word.