Chapter 22. February 18, 1898

"Good morning, Ben. I'm still the same," Ominis extended his pass to the guard with a slightly trembling hand, squinting against the wind and shielding his face from the splashes of icy seawater, "is it always this dreadful here?"

"Yes, even in the summer," Ben chuckled, making an entry in his journal and activating the mechanisms to open the passage into Azkaban, "failed to crack Fisby last time. Are you trying your luck again?"

"Not quite. Today, I'm here for Sallow. Need to deliver him to the Ministry," Gaunt said cautiously but confidently. His heart pounded against his ribs as if a bird had found itself in a cage for the first time. If Ben suspected anything, they could be in trouble.

"I see? I thought his case was straightforward," nevertheless, the guard took the keys and headed towards the opening in the wall. Ominis followed him.

"It's not about his case. It's about a relic he discovered. The Ministry is interested in it, but they couldn't find it. And he was the last one who saw it," Ominis delivered the prearranged lie, ascending the stairs indifferently and praying to all the gods that Sebastian wouldn't give them away. He cursed himself for succumbing to weakness and revealing his plan to rescue him. It would have been much safer to continue playing the role of an ordinary Auror until they were safely inside the estate. But now, it was too late to think about that.

The Auror and the Azkaban guard ascended to the third floor. Ominis did his best to ignore the cries echoing from all sides and the Dementors hovering above them. He focused entirely on his breathing, the sound of his own footsteps, and the thumping of his heart in his chest. He had played a role many times before, so why shouldn't he succeed this time? They stopped in front of the required cell, and Ominis cautiously and hesitantly raised his wand, directing it toward the grille that the guard was unlocking. A shiver ran through his entire body, and his veins unpleasantly tingled as he saw the makeshift bandage on Sebastian's leg, stained with blood. Curled up in the corner of the cell, Sebastian stared into space, and his lips moved slightly in a silent conversation. Ominis unconsciously bit his lip, tasting the disgusting salty flavor in his mouth.

Every muscle in his body tightened with a suppressed desire to push Ben away and rush to Sebastian, to wrap his arms around him, press his lips to his, and assure him that he would never be alone again, that he would never be hurt again. But he continued to stand there, pressing the mask of indifference, which had begun to crack but was still convincing, to his face. He was an ordinary employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on a mission. Sebastian interested him no more than a crack in the wall. Moreover, he wanted to get out of this cold, godforsaken place as soon as possible, and he had to show this clearly through his behavior.

Shaking off his paralysis, he started rubbing his frozen hands together, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Any movement would surely appear much more natural than his statue-like stillness, so he carefully mimicked the actions of a frozen and weary Ministry employee. However, his wand remained fixed on Sebastian. His heart skipped several beats when Ben roughly hoisted the former Slytherin to his feet, restraining his hands behind his back and pushing him out into the corridor. Ominis winced and turned away when Sebastian's injured ankle gave way, and he collapsed to the floor with a groan. He trembled with anger and pain, gritting his teeth until they ground together. He tried to convince himself that there was only a little more to endure, that these few minutes of physical torment would likely mean very little to Sebastian. It seemed that Ominis felt this pain more keenly than Sebastian himself.

In the end, Ben realized that the prisoner was unable to move on his own and dragged him along, wrapping his massive, strong arm around his waist. Sebastian emitted soft moans, burying his head against his chest and showing no interest in what was happening, barely even attempting to move his legs. Ben muttered curses under his breath as he dragged Sebastian, and Ominis silently followed them, hardly breathing, as if any extra disturbance in the air could trigger something irreversible. He counted every step that took him and Sebastian further away from the cell, and each of those steps seemed longer than all the years he had spent apart from him. It felt like an eternity before they finally reached the exit of Azkaban. Ominis couldn't believe that everything had gone so smoothly, but it had. He took in the frigid air, which no longer felt repulsive. Now it smelled of freshness and freedom.

His hand firmly gripped Sebastian's waist, gently accepting his limp and indifferent body from the guard's hands. Inside him, flickering phantom fires ignited, pleasantly scorching as he felt Sebastian's weight in his arms. Above all, he longed to hold him tighter, bury his nose in his hair, and savor that familiar scent of smoke and sweet-sour berries that had haunted his dreams for all these years. He felt a trembling shiver coursing through his entire body and a burning heat engulfing his mind. But despite all these sensations, Ominis engaged in a restrained conversation with the guard, eager to finish it quickly but at the same time trying not to appear too hasty. He attempted to discreetly press Sebastian closer to himself in an effort to warm him with his own body and shield him from the cold February wind. He wanted to take off his coat and boots and put them on Sebastian, but he couldn't afford to act that way in front of Ben.

"When will you return him then?" the guard asked, lighting a cigarette and absentmindedly covering the flame at the end of his wand.

"I don't know. I just need to bring him, and as for when the colleagues finish their inquiries, I can't predict," Ominis replied, listening to Sebastian's barely audible teeth chattering and gripping his side with his fingers even tighter, "maybe tomorrow. Or maybe a week from now."

"And what's this relic, then?" Ben leaned against the wall, releasing a cloud of smoke. It seemed that the cold didn't bother him at all, and he was only waiting for a chance to spend a few minutes outside the walls of this place of sorrow.

"It can be used to remove dark curses, but it requires sacrificing a person to do so," Ominis grimaced, suppressing the growing irritation within him. Tension was causing a headache, and it felt like a knot of writhing snakes was forming in his stomach, "I don't know the other details."

"Alright, I see, you're already frozen solid. A pampered city dweller," the guard laughed, flicking ash into the snow. He extended his hand to Ominis, who eagerly shook it, pleased that his visit to Azkaban was coming to such a successful conclusion.

"Well, what can I do," he managed a crooked smile, stepping back a pace, "see you in a few days. I'll need to return to have a chat with Thisbe."

"Fine. See you," Ben waved with the cigarette held between his fingers. Ominis took a deep breath of the salty icy air, pointed his wand one last time at the towering structure of Azkaban, giving it a farewell glance, and apparated with a newfound sense of satisfaction, continuing to hold Sebastian closer to him.

***

Ominis' feet touched the ground in the backyard of the Gaunt estate. His knees bent under the weight of Sebastian, but he managed to stay upright and not collapse into the snow. After taking a few steps, he pushed the back door open with his foot. It swung open hospitably, not locked with bolts. Almost immediately, he heard Marvolo's slow, approaching footsteps.

"Your friend looks rather unwell," he said with feigned sympathy, "but now I think I believe your story. A person who has been to Azkaban is unmistakable."

"Back off, Marv," Ominis said, pulling Sebastian with all his strength down the corridor and up the stairs, thinking about getting him into a warm bed and lighting a fire. He had a bad feeling that after today's barefoot ordeal in the snow, Sebastian's already weakened health would deteriorate even further.

"Need any help?" Marvolo's voice carried a sly grin as he followed Ominis with curiosity.

"No, thanks. That wasn't part of our agreement."

"Suit yourself. Angela prepared your old bedroom and the one next to it," Marvolo replied and, with a bored demeanor, turned and went about his business. Today, he would give Ominis a break, but afterward, he would charge him for every day spent in the estate, despite his father's request not to be too intrusive with his younger brother. A sinister smirk played on his face as he glanced over his shoulder at his new neighbors before disappearing around the corner.

***

With a sigh of relief, Ominis gently laid Sebastian on the bed in the bedroom that had once been his in a previous life. It seemed like almost nothing had changed. The same massive bed made of dark wood with a heavy, dusty canopy that, a hundred years ago, might have looked expensive and luxurious but now felt like it should be burned due to fears that new life might be burgeoning in its folds. Worn carpets with traces of at least three generations of the Gaunts, armchairs upholstered in greenish velour with scratched armrests, a large dark-gray marble fireplace with an impressive crack running up the chimney and miraculously not allowing smoke to infiltrate the room. The entire décor screamed that once upon a time, the estate and the family that owned it were wealthy and grand, but even Gaunt Sr. couldn't determine how long ago that had been.

Ominis lit a fire in the fireplace and began to carefully remove Sebastian's dirty prison uniform. Sallow had finally focused his gaze and was staring intently at his savior, trying to recognize him. Although Sebastian had bandaged the wound on his ankle with a piece of torn prison shirt, it was done clumsily, and the wound was too deep. He had lost a lot of blood, and his consciousness teetered on the brink of forgetfulness until morning, when the bleeding had naturally stopped. As the guard dragged him through the corridors of Azkaban, and while Ominis held him by the waist, standing in the cold February wind, Sebastian lost consciousness several times and regained it, completely unaware of what was happening.

He slowly parted his parched lips, taking a deep, painful breath. The air around him felt so warm and gentle, and he didn't feel the hard stone floor beneath his back anymore. It was as if he was lying on water or even floating in the air. His lips trembled as he finally recognized the young man who was currently tending to him with a concerned expression. So, he had indeed returned and kept his promise to get him out of captivity. Sebastian let out a spasmodic sigh, releasing a soft moan from his chest as something soft and warm touched his numb feet. He heard a distant sound of water splashing, felt gentle fingers touching his feet, and the pleasant scent of lavender soap reached his senses. His eyes closed, tears glistening in their corners. He was drifting back into darkness, but a moment later, he jolted from a sharp pain in his injured ankle and heard Ominis — that's his name, right? — muttering softly. Sebastian gritted his teeth and hissed quietly as Ominis began to clean the wound. Despite some discomfort, for the first time in many years, warmth began to spread inside him, knowing that someone was finally taking care of him.

As Ominis finished cleaning the dirt, blood, and sweat from Sebastian's body, the latter had already fallen asleep. His breathing, though shaky and restless, and his eyelids twitched, but his body was relaxed, allowing the mattress and blanket to embrace him peacefully. Ominis wearily crawled under the blanket next to Sebastian and rested his forehead against his shoulder. He slowly inhaled the warmth emanating from him. Through the floral scent of the soap, there was that very fragrance that had transported him back to Slytherin's common room seven years ago. His heart pulsed somewhere in his throat, and he succumbed to the impulse, pressing his lips to the scar-laden skin. Even though he might now be a forgotten stranger to Sebastian, for Ominis, Sebastian was life itself, and he only realized it now. It was as if he had emerged from a long, multi-year stupor in which all his feelings had been reduced to a minimum, and among them, only one had constantly flared up with a bright flash — an acute longing for Sebastian.

Ominis let out a heavy sigh. He felt exhausted, every cell in his body hummed with exhaustion, and it seemed that the best solution would be to fall asleep following Sebastian. But his head was splitting with anxious thoughts. There was no turning back. As soon as the Azkaban guard opened Sallow's cell, Ominis had crossed the line of the law. With each passing minute, he was drifting further away from his former life. Formally, he had a few days before the guard, Ben, would send an owl to the Ministry, wondering why they hadn't returned the prisoner for so long. But in reality, his partner, Damien, would raise the alarm today when Ominis didn't show up for work without notice. Of course, Damien wouldn't make a fuss right away. He would initially try to find him himself and figure out what had happened. But he would piece together the puzzle and guess everything before the Ministry even got wind of it. As for what steps to expect from him next, Ominis couldn't even begin to guess. Maybe he was now regretting how little he knew about his partner. In the midst of all this, he had completely ceased to care about Marvolo, who now seemed like a negligible problem, especially now that he and Sebastian were under the Ministry's scrutiny. Marvolo would undoubtedly try to create problems for them, and Ominis would be better off hiding his true feelings for Sebastian so that Marvolo wouldn't exploit them. However, in the worst-case scenario, he could get rid of him. The thought made him shudder, and a nervous laugh escaped his lips as he pressed himself closer to Sebastian. Did he seriously just think about murder? Ominis began to reassure himself, saying that he was just on edge, experiencing stress, and succumbing to panic. Of course, he had no intention of actually killing Marvolo. What nonsense. "I wonder if Father would consider this act a contribution to the legacy of the Gaunt family or, on the contrary, see it as a disgrace to our name?" Ominis chuckled softly, pondering this. Eventually, the racing images and thoughts in his mind slowed down, and he finally drifted into a restless sleep.

When Ominis opened his eyes, the window displayed an impenetrable night, and the clocks somewhere in the mansion's corridors struck midnight, their sounds echoing throughout the vast, decrepit building. He felt movement from Sebastian beside him, and for a moment, it seemed as if it were still the Christmas holidays of 1890, and they were merely fifth-year students, nestled in a cramped single bed in a shared dormitory while their roommates were away at home. A warm smile lit up his face, but it quickly faded. He abruptly moved away from the awakening Sebastian, fearing to startle him with his sudden and inexplicable closeness. He swallowed the lump in his throat, slipped out from under the covers, and sat on the edge of the bed. It was unbearable to sit so close to him and not feel the mutual desire to touch each other, to endlessly talk about trivial matters, to not unclasp intertwined fingers, to not breathe so as not to interrupt the kisses.

"Ominis?" he heard a soft, hoarse whisper. It seemed to him that he might lose consciousness from the almost palpable sound of that voice saying his name so close, right here, half a meter away. Could this really not be another surreal dream but reality?

"How do you feel?" he asked in a trembling voice. For the first time in seven years, he allowed his voice to be uneven, allowing himself to show his excitement to someone.

"Strange. I didn't believe you would really come back for me," Sebastian breathed heavily and hoarsely, but Ominis could hear the familiar intonations in his completely changed voice. He climbed back onto the bed with his legs and moved closer to Sebastian, worried that his voice sounded too painful.

"Oh, Sebastian, you have a fever," he murmured softly, touching the back of his hand to Sebastian's forehead and cheeks. "Or is it just that touching you burns like this?" flashed through his mind, "please don't get out of bed."

Ominis left the room to fetch some medicine or at least tea. After walking a couple of meters down the corridor, he returned and charmed the door lock with the most powerful locking charms he knew. In this house, he didn't trust anyone, so he had to take care of the safety of the most precious thing he had. He still remembered the layout of the estate perfectly, so he headed straight for the kitchen, hoping not to encounter anyone there. However, as he approached the withered wooden arch leading to the required room, he heard the sound of clinking dishes and splashing water coming from there, and raising his wand, he saw light pouring out of the doorway. "It's unlikely that Marvolo and Father are doing the dishes," he chuckled to himself, stepping forward with relief. In the kitchen, Twinkle was busy washing dishes and glasses after a late dinner. He turned off the water and froze, turning to Ominis.

"You've returned, master," Twinkle murmured humbly. Ominis was the only one who had never mistreated their house-elf, so Twinkle felt safe addressing him first, without risking a beating.

"Yes, I had to," Ominis answered gently, thinking that out of all the permanent residents of the estate, only this elf didn't incur his dislike, "I need hot tea and, if available, some Wiggenweld Potion. Also, bring a bottle of brandy. Will you bring all this to my bedroom, please?"

"Of course, master," Twinkle beamed, hearing the word "please" instead of threats of punishment if he didn't complete the task immediately.

"Leave everything outside the door and knock three times," Ominis turned and walked back to his bedroom with quicker, less nervous steps. He considered that he might try to avoid his father and Marvolo by only leaving his room at night.

Ominis returned to the bed, placing a cool, damp cloth gently on Sebastian's forehead. A tray, delivered by the house-elf, was arranged on the bedside table, with cups, a teapot, and a couple of bottles on it. Carefully, Ominis poured tea into one of the cups and added a dash of the bitter Wiggenweld Potion – a versatile healing elixir, capable of combating both magical ailments and common flu. After a moment's contemplation, he filled the other cup with pure brandy. Adjusting the pillows, he assisted Sebastian in settling comfortably among them. Ominis couldn't allow himself to fully embrace the moment, but he couldn't deny the undercurrent of happiness, despite the less-than-ideal circumstances.

Sebastian accepted the cup from his hands and gingerly brought it to his lips, a faint smile gracing his lips as he tasted the bitterness of the medicine and the herbaceous hints of the tea. Food and water in Azkaban had been nothing more than bland sustenance, devoid of flavor and color, designed solely to stave off hunger and thirst. Consequently, the simple and not particularly pleasant flavors ignited a sensory explosion in his taste buds. He shifted his gaze from the cup in his hands to Ominis' face, and once more, he felt the familiar warmth in his heart, the sensation that had always accompanied his interactions with Ominis. Perhaps they shared a close and trusting bond in their past lives. Succumbing to an inexplicable urge, he extended his warm hand and gently squeezed Ominis' cold fingers, which had been gripping the blanket beside him. An electric current seemed to pass between them, causing Ominis' eyes to widen, and a blush to tinge his cheeks.

"Thank you, Ominis. I promise I'll remember everything," he whispered softly, his eyelids drooping sleepily. Ominis quickly retrieved the cup that was slipping from his grasp, its warmth still lingering, and set it aside.

"You'll undoubtedly remember. And if not, we have a whole lifetime ahead of us to create new memories," Ominis whispered in response, unsure if Sebastian could still hear him. He tenderly caressed Sebastian's cheek with his fingers, ensuring the blanket was snugly arranged. Then, he nestled beside him once more, a genuine smile gracing his lips as sleep overcame them.