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Chapter Text

Empty words.

The usual trite jumble of nonsensical admonishments and warnings sprinkled with babbling digressions lacking any logic.

Of course, these digressions largely consisted of indulgent and inappropriate praise to himself. There was also no dearth of excessive flattery shamelessly paid to Slytherin House - not that such flattery particularly bothered Anne Smith.

Phineas Nigellus Black stood proudly behind his gilded lectern, the thick black moustache of his well-trimmed beard partly covering - without hiding it well enough - a smirk, indication that he was not in the least aware of how ridiculous and insubstantial his speech introducing the lavish banquet of the Sorting Ceremony sounded.

"That being said, as we do every year when the first of September arrives, we are about to celebrate a new beginning. Allow me to be the voice that opens the festivities!" The Headmaster paused bringing a gloved hand to his face to curl his thick moustache with an increasingly satisfied countenance.

The students seated at the long tables in the Great Hall, deluding themselves that the rambling opening speech had come to an end, sighed with such enthusiasm and such synchrony that the very stone walls of the castle seemed to have caught their breath.

"But first, let me make the last due recommendations."

A general grunt of disappointment could be heard, which Professor Weasley tried to stifle with a firm clap of her hands while casting her gaze to the Headmaster on her right as if wishing that her esteemed colleague actually had something sensible to add to his speech.

"Oh, Merlin! In the name of all that's good, make this torment come to an end!" Anne snorted impatiently.

She crossed her legs under the table and grabbed her long plait of ginger hair with both hands to begin fiddling with it absentmindedly as she struggled to tune out Headmaster Black's voice completely.

Vain and concerned with the smallest details, Anne had spent a lot of time in front of the mirror that day in preparation for the Sorting Ceremony. She had plaited her hair in a far fancier fashion than usual, tying it in a pretty silver ribbon and adorning the hairstyle with the enchanted rose that the sentient wand belonging to Ominis Gaunt had conjured up for her all those months prior.

As she twisted her plaited hair around her fingers with rapt focus that bordered on obsessive, her stomach growled rather noticeably and she immediately jumped to attention on the wooden bench, casting a fleeting glance to her right to make sure the obnoxious Grace Pinch-Smedley hadn’t noticed.

"Are you hungry by any chance, my love?" Softly asked a velvety voice to Anne's left.

"I'm so hungry that I'm tempted to bite my tongue clean off to swallow it."

"You are being melodramatic as usual."

Ominis slightly leaned his head towards hers; the expression painted on his handsome features was neutral, that of the perfectly bored student pretending to pay attention to the sermon of the day, but his blind blue eyes reflected love and complicity directed solely at Anne.

"Yet you love me precisely because I am melodramatic. Those were your very words - more or less. Or am I mistaken?"

"Ah, touché."

A laugh escaped from Anne's lips, too loud to go unnoticed in the silence that reigned in the Great Hall. She immediately brought her hands to her mouth, unable to completely suppress the silly giggle that insisted on rising from her throat, and she scooted along the wooden bench to get closer to Ominis and rest her head on his right shoulder. He held her close, wrapping his arm around her and bringing his thin lips to her left temple as they stretched into a playful smile. She laid her gaze on his face inches from her own, and she found herself languidly batting her eyelashes as she unconsciously stretched her neck up to get even closer to him - her breath mingling dangerously with his as if they were about to give in to the temptation and put on a show at the Slytherin table right in the middle of Phineas Nigellus Black's speech.

"You are starving for food while I am starving for the chance to kiss you, Anne."

"I can imagine, Gaunt."

The lovely ginger had the brilliant idea of playing with fire at that very moment; not content with the all too intimate familiarity she and Ominis were enjoying as they sat at the supper table, she placed her delicate hands on his, that remained resting innocently on her right hip, to slide it gently down to the hollow between her thigh and her crotch. As soon as the fingertips of the blind serpent grazed the rough grey fabric of her uniform skirt, his hand tightened possessively on her leg as a soft hum of appreciation escaped his lips.

During the summer holidays, opportunities for Anne and Ominis to be together in private had been few and far between. Not to mention the long months that had been spent living in self-doubt and repression after the attempted rape his vile brother had committed against her. Now that, at last, there could be the right circumstances for him to be spontaneously intimate with Anne again, Ominis found himself - in spite of himself - with the need and urgency to ask a question that was pushy to say the least for his standards.

"After supper, shall we retire to the Room of Requirement?" He whispered in the trembling voice typical of young lads whose thirst for love is blatant.

"...Ominis, I don't feel like leaving Anne alone on this particular evening. She is very anxious. It feels strange for her to come back to live here after losing a whole year of her life. Would you be bothered if we spent the evening in our common room tonight?"

"Of course not, my love. I understand that perfectly."

Ominis ran his left hand through his soft blond hair as if he hoped that that gesture would be enough to chase away the impure thoughts that had been piling up in his traitorous mind, then he placed it on the wooden table and sat down a little more composed without, however, moving the hand that was still resting on Anne's thigh an inch. He was about to add something - probably a witty jest to regain some composure and ease the sexual tension palpable in the air - when a muffled burp caught their attention.

Sebastian Sallow sat across from his best friend, deep dark eyes bloodshot with tiredness fixed on the empty plate in front of him while he braced his elbows on the table to hold his head as if in the throes of a devastating migraine. To his left, his sister was huffing softly, partly out of sheer boredom at having to postpone dinner until the Headmaster had finished spewing nonsense, and partly out of concern for her emaciated brother.

The day before had been the birthday of the Sallow twins, who had celebrated with their guests in the humble abode that had once belonged to Uncle Solomon.

Anne Smith had travelled to Hogsmeade for the occasion, and she had bought ice cream from Honeydukes instead of a classic birthday cake, given the summer heat. It had been a quiet and private day of celebration, spent mostly indoors challenging each other to board games such as wizard's chess and Exploding Snap; when evening came, Sebastian had convinced Ominis to accompany him on a lads-only evening adventure to ‘properly celebrate’. The two of them had thrown a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace on their way to one of Diagon Alley's most popular pubs, and what was supposed to be an outing for a pint or two had turned into a personal challenge for Sebastian between him and an entire barrel of mead, resulting in a massive hangover he was still bearing.

"You alright, mate?" Ominis asked, tilting his head slightly towards him whilst curving his thin lips downwards with the frown of someone who doesn't believe his friend to be all right at all.

"No. I might be sick at any moment."

"Sebastian, why don't you head to the Room of Requirement? You can use one of my potion stations and prepare a digestive concoction -"

"Too late for that. I should have thought of that earlier instead of spending the day rolling around in bed." Sebastian dryly interrupted the Keeper, speaking all in one breath as if he was trying not to let anything come out of his mouth while he was hurriedly getting up from the bench. "I must haste to the nearest loo and pray Merlin that I get there. Cheer on the new baby snakes for me, will you?"

He turned towards the exit of the Great Hall walking briskly as he kept a hand on his stomach, silently praying that his strong muscles - hardened from hours and hours spent flying on his broomstick - wouldn't betray him right then and there and manage to ‘hold’ everything in.

The other Slytherins watched him leave the Sorting Ceremony in bewilderment as several girls at the Ravenclaw table began whispering amongst themselves, wondering who on Earth the most desirable heartthrob in Hogwarts was supposed to be meeting with at that very moment.

"With the toilet." The fair ginger thought absentmindedly in response to the whispers that reached her ears as Phineas Nigellus Black continued to speak.

"Brother! Ah -" Anne Sallow turned to look at her brother with a desperate expression painted on her face.

As soon as the young witch realised that she was raising her voice in the middle of the Sorting Ceremony, she tried to compose herself by sitting up straight again as she swept her fringes of chestnut hair out of her eyes and cast an embarrassed glance at her friend sitting opposite her.

Anne Sallow looked even more upset and distraught than Anne Smith had been during the last Sorting Ceremony the year before. After all, while it was true that the Fifth Keeper had found herself crossing the threshold of that room at the age of fifteen after a miserable existence spent believing she was a squib, her friend now found herself in an even worse situation because, not only was she exposed to the prying eyes of onlookers, she found herself reconciling with a multitude of people who would ask her all sorts of questions about how she had spent the past year, constantly reopening a wound that had not yet been completely healed.

The girls exchanged a sad smile laden with mutual understanding, and just as the lovely ginger was about to whisper a word of comfort to her friend, the Headmaster's words suddenly caught her attention.

"And before we bring in our new arrivals, let us all give a warm welcome back to Mr Samuel Smith! Returning to attend his seventh year here at Hogwarts after spending the past academic year at Durmstrang Institute."

There was a resounding roar of excited cheering that rose from the Hufflepuff table where most of the girls looked as if they were about to faint at any moment from the intensity with which they were shouting their housemate's name. Simultaneously, drinks and food finally appeared on the long tables of the Great Hall, and several Gryffindors, including Natsai Onai and Garreth Weasley, turned towards the badgers still cheering their housemate to join the festivities and raise their goblets of pumpkin juice in a toast.

Anne Smith was petrified with horror.

She stood completely still for a few moments, sad dark eyes drained of all emotion staring at a tray of Cornish pasties without really seeing them.

Then, as if she were an automaton, she began to fill her plate and cut through the fragrant puff pastry of the dish with more force than was necessary, making the silver knife screech on the plate in a way that greatly displeased Ominis' sensitive ears.

The Heir of Slytherin had felt his sweet companion stiffen at his side and immediately stiffened in turn.

He said nothing for the time being because they were in a situation that was - to say the least - too crowded to deal with private matters, but Ominis hoped he would soon have the chance to talk to Anne and let her vent her feelings with him.

For the moment she seemed only interested in eating her Cornish pasties. She stood silently blowing on the warm filling of meat and vegetables while trying to think of something to help her calm the erratic beating of her heart. After all, it was easy to ignore the hubbub and detach herself from reality: Hufflepuff's table was far away from Slytherin's - on the opposite side of the Great Hall in fact - and it took very little to pretend not to notice the celebration that was taking place there encouraged by Headmaster Black himself, who kept enthusiastically clapping his hands from the top of the High Table.

Unfortunately, however, it wasn't as easy to ignore the memories of a strong fist smashed into her face, nor the ones of pulled hair, and those of hexes of all kinds cast upon her and the house-elves who looked after her.

Distracted by the awful reminiscences of her childhood, Anne bit her lip and a copious dot of blood immediately appeared on her soft, rosy mouth as she let out a pained yelp.

"Do you want us to leave?" Ominis immediately asked, dropping the cutlery on the table to turn towards her and gently caress her cheeks with strong, reassuring hands.

Just then the door to the Great Hall opened to let in the neat line of first-year students still waiting to be sorted into their House. Anne watched the faces of those children reflect many different emotions as they whispered their way towards the High Table: there were those who smiled joyfully, those who bit their lips anxiously and those who looked deeply focused. For a moment, watching the expressions painted on those young, innocent faces brought a smile to her face as well. She placed her pale hands on Ominis’ bigger ones still gently resting on her cheeks, and she vigorously shook her head as if to chase away the nasty thoughts - a long plait of ginger hair lashed the air behind her back like the tail of a nervous cat.

"No, my love. Let us stay. After all, the baby snakes about to be sorted into our House need to be encouraged, don't they?"

"It is pointless to sit by the window at this hour. The darkness of the night makes it impossible to discern what is moving in the depths. Tomorrow in the early morning will be the best opportunity to see merpeople."

At Ominis' words, the small group of first-year students huddled against the underwater windows of the Slytherin common room seemed to suddenly calm down after a good fifteen minutes spent shrieking as they squished their faces against the cold glass windows that separated them from the black waters of the Great Lake, ignoring the Prefects' calls for them to retreat to their respective dormitories. Little by little, the newest members of the snake pit began to move away from the windows and stream towards their chambers, eagerly promising each other that they would wake up very early in the morning to try and see merpeople.

Ominis listened to the chatter of the naïve first-year students, smiling contentedly like the rascal he was. He was leaning his back against the cold stone wall of the alcove that opened to the far right along the wall where the underwater windows were located; he had his legs slightly apart to hold Anne Smith close to him, hugging her gently with both arms at hip level as she leaned the weight of her slim body against his, hiding her face in his chest.

The whole time the Heir of Slytherin had been making fun of the first-year students, a playful smile had lit up his face, becoming more and more pronounced with every burst of naïve enthusiasm he managed to provoke in them. But what had really made his blind blue eyes sparkle with delight had been hearing the soft giggles of his sweet companion intent on burying her face against his chest at the vague sense of second-hand embarrassment she felt at witnessing the young arrivals being so easily fooled by her own lad.

"You're positively horrible." Anne murmured, absentmindedly fiddling with Ominis' green tie.

"Yet you are in love with me. And you will eventually be my Lady. Horrible or not, I'd say I've won on all counts."

Anne laughed heartily, muffling her giggles against Ominis' chest. He couldn't see her, but he would have bet good galleons that she was blushing, thinking to himself that she was just lovely.

But then again, that was a constant, fixed thought in Ominis' mind.

His feelings for Anne were so strong that they bordered on worship and, at times, he was greatly frightened by the intensity of his love for her - that consuming awareness that he belonged to her body and soul, the knowledge that he simultaneously had everything life could offer and potentially everything to lose.

The Slytherin common room was almost deserted, most students had already retired for the night after having over-eaten at the Sorting Ceremony.

Anne Sallow had walked to the girls' dormitory with hesitant steps shortly after descending into the dungeon, declaring that she was too tired to linger in the common room even though it was still early in the evening. When the Keeper had offered to go with her, she had declined with some embarrassment, saying that she understood perfectly well if she and Ominis preferred to be alone for a while to say goodnight to each other. Sebastian hadn't been seen since he had hurriedly left the Great Hall, and the gloomy Slytherin dungeons were almost entirely deserted except for the presence of five or six students still intent on chatting while sitting in front of the fireplace, quite far from the alcove overlooking the depths of the Black Lake where Ominis and Anne had settled.

They realised more or less at the same moment that the atmosphere had become intimate enough for them to talk freely about their private matters and indulge in romantic effusions without having to worry about causing a scandal, but she was the first to act, standing on her tiptoes to brush her rosy lips against his. Her touch was at the same time sweet and sensual, but Ominis couldn't quite enjoy it and capture her soft, alluring mouth in a proper kiss before she had already pulled back.

"Are you denying me a goodnight kiss too? Heavens, you really want me to lay in bed feeling miserable." He asked her in a velvety whisper as amused as it was eager.

"Um, I don't know if you deserve to be kissed tonight, given how naughty you've been with the first year students. Let me think."

The lovely ginger brought her left hand to her chin thoughtfully as she pretended to meticulously ponder what to do. Meanwhile, moving sensuously, she shifted her stance to ensure that her soft breasts and belly rubbed seductively against the sinewy muscles of his chest and stomach through their garments. Ominis bit his lower lip and slowly shook his head, laughing softly.

"And I'm the naughty one, Smith?"

Anne giggled anew as she hid her face in his chest again with the same innocent, embarrassed expression as a few moments before. She had stopped moving suggestively, and Ominis found himself partly sorry, partly relieved since they certainly couldn't have continued in that situation in case things got heated.

Without stopping smiling, the blind serpent brought his right hand to the chin of the fair ginger he was holding in his coils, gently seizing her right where her hand had rested mockingly a few moments before. He silently invited her to pull her face up from his chest, and then he followed the warmth of her breath to find her lips and kiss her with passion, unhurriedly.

The cold stone wall on which he leaned his back and the chill emanating from the imposing underwater window to their left had so far helped to dissipate the summer heat they felt during the day. Now the contrast between the cold environment and the warmth emanating from Anne's body had become so intense and pleasurable that Ominis found himself getting goose bumps on his neck as he continued to languidly move his lips against hers, wondering if he would feel those shivers on her skin too if only he could have touched her.

They stood like that for a few minutes, Anne in Ominis' arms as their tongues gently flicked together - her hands resting on his chest and his on either side of her head, fingers entwined in soft ginger hair neatly plaited.

Just as naturally as he had kissed her, the Heir of Slytherin slightly pulled back - blond eyebrows lightly furrowed as he chose the words to engage in what he knew was a rather unpleasant conversation.

"Would you like to talk about it? " He simply asked at last.

"Yes and no. My brother - well, he - he... He's an arsehole. There's not much left to say."

"I know. As in, I know him quite well. I'd say you summed up his character nicely."

"The thing is - well, I'm not ready to meet him again. Last year it was easy for me to forget he existed - like the rest of my family after all. But now he's here and - and I don't know what to expect. Or rather I know, but..."

Anne's words were lost in thin air. Her expressive dark eyes reflected a deep sadness that Ominis could sense even without being able to see her.

He knew that sadness intimately, just as she knew his own.

They had had many opportunities to talk about their past, they had shared with each other most of their deepest wounds without any shame, finding understanding and acceptance in equal measure. And as much as they thanked Merlin for bringing them together to end years of loneliness and repressed grief - as sweet as it had been to find each other, to discover each other and lay bare their vulnerability, they had also discovered a new kind of misery: the kind that comes when you share the pain of someone you love by making it your own. A bittersweet lesson in love that Anne and Ominis had learnt together.

During the long hours they had spent together inside the Undercroft when he had shared his knowledge of the Dark Arts with her, it had often happened that they had come across sensitive topics that had triggered bad memories. It had been an opportunity to explore those memories together, and they had relived them through Isidora Morganach's Pensive. Anne had seen with her eyes the decadent wickedness of the Gaunts and Ominis' nightmarish childhood, while he had helplessly witnessed the discrimination and hatred reserved for squibs of high lineage.

And he remembered vividly how Lord Smith had tortured his eleven-year-old daughter with the Cruciatus Curse for not receiving her admission letter to Hogwarts, just as he remembered her elder brother watching the scene with cold indifference as he asked his father if he could take part in the torture, concerned only to be praised by him while cruelly ignoring the desperate cries of his sister.

A surge of anger suddenly ran through the body of the Heir of Slytherin, causing him to tremble uncontrollably.

He suppressed the trembling and the overwhelming emotion that threatened to eat him away with a deep breath. Then, he gently took her left hand in his and brought it to his mouth to kiss it. His lips lingered for a moment on her engagement ring, the silver snake with the Gaunt seal that he himself had commissioned for her - feminine and elegant compared to the one he wore.

"Anne, I wish I could tell you that I am your prince charming and that one day I will whisk you far away from here. I wish I could tell you that you can forget about your family forever, but I won't because that would be a lie. And I never lie." He drew another deep breath and leaned his forehead against hers. "The truth is that when you marry me you will become part of a ruthless, rotten, cruel family - you will marry into Dark Wizards and Muggle torturers. And although we will build a future together - far from them, different from theirs - we shall never escape their yoke, not entirely. Because we are what we are, Anne: filthy rich purebloods of high lineage. And a highborn can only escape their title so far."

"We could always run away."

"But is that what you really want? To run away to another continent and never return? Could you forsake your mission as Keeper and what lies dormant within Hogwarts' foundations beneath the Map Chamber?"

Anne's rosy lips curved downwards into a sad expression as she leaned her head against Ominis' chest once again, seeking his protection.

"No, I couldn't."

There was a moment of silence. His tall, sturdy physique was the anchor she was clinging to in order to chase away nasty thoughts, focusing intently on the beating of his heart.

"There are many things I cannot promise you, my love." Ominis continued. "But the one thing I can promise you is this: I will always protect you. I'll protect you at all costs. From my family, from yours. And I swear I won't let your arsehole brother bully you or cause you harm. I can be very disagreeable if I want to."

"I know." Anne murmured. "I know you can be frightening. You've frightened me too in the past, more than once. And I've seen some ugly shite in my life."

They both laughed - those bitter, biting laughs at the blackest humour that more often than not they were the only ones to get.

They stood alone in the dungeons. The Slytherin common room was now completely deserted, and they shared one last tender kiss before heading hand in hand towards their dormitories.

When Anne Smith crossed the threshold of the room designated for sixth year girls, she noticed that all of her housemates were already asleep.

All except one.

Anne Sallow's four-poster bed was neatly made and utterly empty.

With soft steps, making as little noise as possible so as not to wake anyone up, the lovely ginger headed for the girls' lavatory, where she found her friend slowly brushing her hair while staring at her reflection in the mirror as if she were in a trance.

"Ah, there you are! For a moment I thought you had snuck out of the dungeon defying the Prefects. Do you need help?"

"Ah, no. They're already combed actually. I was - I was just stalling."

"I'm sorry, I lingered on talking to Ominis -"

Anne Sallow turned sharply to her friend, blushing with embarrassment as she forcefully wrung her hairbrush in her hands.

"Oh, no, Anne! Goodness! It's fine! Truly! I understand well enough - I mean, I - I wish I could do the same - Ah! Oh, Merlin." She brought a hand to her face to hide her mortified expression.

With a smile that was just as awkward, Anne Smith stepped to the sink, being kind enough to change the subject so as not to dwell on the unrequited feelings the other young lady still had for her betrothed.

"Since you have taken refuge inside the lavatory, I take it that the other girls have been... awful?"

"Grace asked me if my uncle died of the same malady that afflicted me and whether I was the one who transmitted it to him. She also voiced her concern at the idea of sleeping in the same room with me, in case I was still contagious."

A chilling silence fell in the girls' lavatory before the Keeper could stomach that remark, opting to try and distract her friend by spewing some vulgar bollocks in the hope that it would make her laugh.

"No matter what Grace says, she is a spoiled whore. I mean, she shagged Leander Prewett last year. If she didn't do it for some galleons, well, she got sorted into the wrong House because that takes a lot of courage."

Anne Sallow burst out laughing with delight. Anne Smith breathed a sigh of relief.

Then she spoke in a soft whisper, seeking the gaze of her friend in the reflection of the mirror.

"Since you've already combed your hair, would you mind helping me out before we go to bed?"

"Oh, I would love to!"

With sincere joy painted on her face, Anne Sallow untied the silver ribbon that held the plait of the fair ginger together to vigorously brush her hair.

"You wore such a lovely coiffure today!"

"I'll plait your hair exactly like mine tomorrow if you fancy -"

"No! Goodness!" She replied far too quickly, swiftly running a hand through her long chestnut hair puffed up by too many brush strokes. "I just don't want to draw any more attention to myself than I have to. A simple chignon will do just fine... Next thing you know, they'll be gossiping about my look change."

Again a silence laden with sadness fell over the room. Anne Sallow's brush strokes became slower - her fingers caressing the soft ginger tresses in her hands like a child stroking a stuffed animal to soothe themselves after crying.

"I thought I'd be happy, you know?" She murmured with an edge to her voice. "While I was confined to Uncle Solomon's house, all I wanted was to come back to Hogwarts - to my normal life. I never imagined it could be so difficult."

A pale hand reached for Anne Sallow's still clinging to the Keeper's hair. The Slytherin girls looked deeply into each other's eyes through the mirror. Then, slowly, they both smiled.

"Anne, what I always tell myself is that mouths are like arse holes: everyone has them and sometimes they pour out shite."

Again Anne Sallow laughed heartily, and Anne Smith waited a moment before continuing.

"People will talk, they will spew all kinds of nonsense, and you will try not to give a damn. It will be hard at first. Then some other gossip will come along to talk about, and no one will bother you anymore. It'll be all right, Anne. We'll be all right, and we'll have a great time together! That is a promise."

It was five o'clock in the morning when Anne Smith opened her eyes without being able to close them again.

She lay in bed as still as a marble statue - inky-black irises fixed on the cold stone ceiling of the dungeon as she tried to banish from her mind a nagging sense of anguish. The Inner Eye hadn't granted her any Visions while she slept, yet she could feel on her skin the familiar tingling sensation that comes with adrenalin rising in anticipation of a duel or a deadly fight.

Was it an omen of doom perhaps? Or perhaps just a mere jest on the part of her frayed nerves?

Be that as it may, Anne could no longer fall back asleep and she waited patiently for her roommates to wake up in turn to begin getting ready for the day.

Imelda Reyes was the first to get out of bed and - with her usual lack of finesse - she immediately began to make such a racket that soon all the pythonesses in the room were forced to leave their dream world. The captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team was quick to express the annoyance she felt at sharing a bedroom with two girls bearing the same name, going so far as to scold Anne Sallow and Anne Smith for giving her a headache every time they turned in unison at hearing their name called.

"You can always call me Troll Slayer or, say, Slytherin Prodigy, Imelda." The Keeper replied while sitting in her bed with an expression that was at once amused and bored.

"Hmm, I think I'll stick with calling you disgustingly lovely ginger. That's what you are after all, Smith."

"I'd rather be called Troll Slayer."

"I bet.''

The girls glanced at each other with complicity, silently letting the other know that they had been missed - something they would obviously never admit aloud, not even if tortured.

Then, Imelda ‘gracefully’ scratched her armpits, complaining that she had an irritating regrowth of hair, and swallowing a potion pulled out of her beauty case shortly afterwards to make it disappear in an instant. Anne Smith asked her if she could take a sip or two of her potion, as she hadn't had time to brew her own during the summer holidays; Imelda had initially seemed unwilling to share, but eventually relented in the name of teammate solidarity.

"This and more for my keeper! Just as long as you manage to find time to practice on the Quidditch pitch when you're not busy shagging with Lord Gaunt." Was the precise, refined remark she made.

When the lovely ginger was ready to leave the girls' dormitory, she took Anne Sallow by the arm to give her some encouragement as they made their way to the common room.

The lads were already waiting for them, standing in front of the enchanted staircase designed to keep any troublesome young men out of the ladies' chambers.

After giving his fiancée a chaste kiss on the lips to wish her a good morning, Ominis offered his arm to Anne Sallow without delay, bursting into good-natured laughter when she hesitated to take it.

"What's the matter, my friend? Don't you remember that we have a mission to accomplish before breakfast? First year students have to learn what it means to be deceptive Slytherins, they are about to be taught an important lesson. Come on, we have a tradition to uphold!"

The Keeper stood back a few steps as she watched Ominis being guided towards the underwater windows of the common room by his dear friend with a mixture of tenderness and unease. She was about to walk in turn towards the screaming throng of first-year students when Sebastian gently placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

The Slytherin heartthrob looked much better than the night before and his attractive lips were stretched into a wide smile that conveyed such happiness as to be contagious.

"I can't believe to see her finally here." He said in a voice broken with emotion.

"I'm happy as well, Sebastian. It's all a bit strange for her now, but I'm sure in a short while she'll feel at home again."

"Red, on that note, can we speak for a moment?"

Sebastian's demeanour had suddenly changed, though not noticeably - Anne had only been able to sense it because she knew him like the back of her hand. He shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other, then he made a wide gesture with his right arm to point to the large couch in front of the fireplace, currently vacant. He walked stiff as a rod, his tall, sturdy physique seemed to tremble slightly if one stopped to observe him carefully, and that was exactly what Anne was doing with her gaze fixed on his broad shoulders as she followed him to take her place beside him on the sofa.

"What is it, Sebastian?" She asked him as they made themselves comfortable on the soft velvet cushions.

"About my sister - well, I'm quite worried about her but I don't want to smother her with my attention. I thought she would be happy to return to her normal life, instead she is troubled and sad. I never imagined it could be so difficult."

Anne smiled instinctively upon hearing Sebastian use the exact same words his twin had used to describe her situation.

"Unfortunately, people are curious and insensitive. For a while Anne's return will be a topic on everyone's lips - I'm afraid it's inevitable. "

"How did it go yesterday with the other girls? Were they pestering her with all sorts of questions? Ah, know that - that - well, that I really appreciate you staying with her instead of… spending the evening with Ominis."

Anne's cheeks instantly turned redder than her hair with which she began to fiddle nervously as she tried to put aside her embarrassment. Embarrassment that she inevitably continued to feel whenever Sebastian - who in addition to being her best friend had been her very first suitor - referred to her intimacy with Ominis, or rather, his best friend who had fallen in love, reciprocated, with the very girl to whom the Slytherin heartthrob had given his heart forever.

"Never mind that, Sebastian." She stammered, trying to compose herself. "Grace made a rather harsh remark last night. I tried not to mind it when Anne told me about it, but it was most unsavoury."

"What did she say?!"

"It doesn't matter, Sebastian. It only hurts us to give rise to gossip - it hurts all of us, not just your sister. Which is why the sooner we start ignoring them the better."

Sebastian looked Anne straight in the face, fixing his deep dark eyes veiled with apprehension in hers as the light from the crackling fire in front of them illuminated their features, giving their skin an orange glow.

"I don't give a shite about gossip. But my sister is very fragile at the moment. She cares about the gossip and I don't want her to go back to suffering again just when she's about to come back to life."

Now Sebastian was nervously wringing his hands as his right foot tapped on the stone floor hysterically, out of control. And Anne saw before her again the vulnerable boy bursting with feelings too intense for him to handle, the one she had seen inside Feldcroft's dreaded catacombs.

Her delicate hands rested on his to stop their neurotic shaking, and her fingers traced his palms, lingering on the calluses that betrayed his humble origins and the days spent in the fields of Feldcroft working the land with the loathsome Uncle Solomon. Sebastian exhaled a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting Anne lovingly squeeze his hands in hers.

"Sebastian, I promise you that I will remain close to Anne throughout this delicate time. I will be by her side and make sure she is well and happy."

"Would you really do that, red? You've already done so much for us and -"

"Sebatian, you talk such nonsense! Of course I will! You know Anne is like a sister to me too."

"I know, red. I know..."

Sebastian opened his eyes again but aimed his gaze towards the floor as if he didn't have the courage to look Anne in the eye. After a moment, he finally turned back to look at her and she gave him a sincere, warm smile - enticing rosy lips that seemed to silently speak to tell him he could trust her.

"Thank you, red." He murmured, smiling back. "I wish I could be the one to support Anne. I wish she would confide in me like she did when we were younger. But we are of an age now where we are no longer comfortable talking to each other about certain things. She needs a female friend in her life. A real friend she can rely on."

"I will be there for her in this time of struggle, Sebastian. I promise. I swear it to you."

He parted his lips as if he was about to add something else, but he was brutally interrupted by a monotone voice that sounded terribly bored and spoke behind their backs.

"What have we here?" Violet McDowell asked with the cruel grin of someone dying with envy. "Say, that's a lovely ring you're wearing, Smith. Is that diamond dust? Lord Gaunt spared no expense for his future Lady, I see."

She pointed to Anne's engagement ring only to emphasise the fact that she and Sebastian were holding hands, as if to hint that their gesture might be misunderstood by someone ready to spread nasty gossip around. Someone like her.

Sebastian immediately let go of Anne’s hands as if he suddenly realised they were on fire, then he stood up and turned to Violet menacingly, as if he wanted to intimidate her with his considerable height.

"We were just about to go for breakfast in the Great Hall, if you would like to join us Violet." He told her politely while maintaining a hostile expression plastered on his face, terribly annoyed at having to interrupt a serious conversation like that.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to be in the way, Sebastian. You and Smith seemed... rather taken. Say hello to Gaunt for me, darling."

Anne glowered at Violet, who turned her back on her to head arse-first towards the front steps of the Slytherin common room.

"Bollocks. One always has to watch their step, there's always someone ready to spread rumours and slander! Alas, it's a cinch to pass for a harlot." She thought snorting.

"I bet you'll get awfully hungry in a while. That'll teach you to eat your breakfast next time. You've barely had a glass of orange juice!"

Ominis was shaking his head with such vehemence that he had managed to dishevel his soft blond hair, otherwise always neatly styled. He was walking hand in hand with Anne towards the North Hall, chastising her for not eating a proper breakfast in view of the draining day ahead of them.

"I already told you! I have to keep myself light for my grand debut at Crossed Wands! Not a chance I'm letting my guard down today - during the opening matches of the academic year."

Ominis snorted curtly.

"Snort all you want! Duelling on a full stomach is for amateurs."

"You would have had plenty of time to digest... "

"Whatever, I'll make it up at supper and eat for two!"

"You are childish, Smith."

"You're bloody vexing, Gaunt."

Behind them, the Sallow twins burst out laughing in unison. Sebastian elbowed his sister lightly, pointing at the pair in front of them with a nod.

"They banter like a couple that's been married for at least twenty years, don't they, sister?"

"They're so sweet!" She replied vaguely embarrassed. "They really do look like a long married couple."

The lovely ginger rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed.

"Because Ominis is old inside." She said with mock condescension as she turned towards her sweetheart - the love that was reflected in her ink-black irises so intense that it was blatant to anyone who laid eyes on her face.

Ominis laughed softly and let go of her hand to embrace her, wrapping his right arm around her waist. Then, still pointing his faithful sentient wand in front of him, he lowered his head to nuzzle her hair and speak to her in a velvety whisper intended only for her ears.

"I will remember your impudence once we are alone in your chambers. We'll see if you'll act cheeky then, witty girl."

At Ominis' words, the mighty Troll Slayer - despite her excellent eyesight - stumbled from excitement, risking falling ruinously in the middle of the Transfiguration Courtyard. Fortunately, he caught her, letting out another amused laugh that was soon joined by her feminine, melodic one.

Suddenly, under the porch to their right, the heavy wooden door to the Transfiguration Classroom opened, and the voices of Headmaster Black and Deputy Headmistress Weasley echoed loud and clear in the sunny courtyard as they spoke excitedly. They walked under the porch as if they, too, were on their way to the North Hall, and when they reached the door connecting the two wings of the castle, they turned to their left, noticing the small group of Slytherins who were crossing the Transfiguration Courtyard at a lazy pace.

Phineas Nigellus Black's face lit up immediately when he spotted Ominis, and he took a step towards him, addressing him as a blood uncle might have done - without the slightest regard for titles or etiquette.

"Ah! Ominis, my boy! I see you're holding on tight to your future Lady. And how can I blame you, lad? Ah, if only your father could see you this instant, how proud you would make him." He said, curling the thick moustache that was partly hiding his usual smirk.

Ominis did not reply, merely slumped his shoulders. Anne, who was still clinging to his side, felt every muscle in his body stiffen like those of a dog that is suddenly being bothered while trying to rest in its kennel.

"My love, I will join you as soon as I can. I suppose I must stay a moment with Headmaster Black -"

"Oh no, Mr Gaunt: we were actually heading for Professor Binns' classroom just to steal Miss Smith away for a moment and talk to her."

"You don't mind if we rob you of your fair maiden for a few minutes, do you, Ominis?"

Phineas Nigellus Black laughed without ceasing to twirl his moustache, then he ran a hand through his powdered black curls as if he was more preoccupied with looking handsome within the castle walls than actually carrying out his duties as Headmaster. Anne Smith turned sharply towards Professor Weasley pointing an index finger at her own chest as if to make sure she was indeed the object of their interest.

"How the fuck did I already get in trouble? The academic year has yet to begin!" She thought, swallowing nervously.

Sebastian walked past her leading his sister on his arm, and he winked at her, murmuring, "Don't get a detention without me, red." as he made his way to the entrance of the North Hall.

Ominis hesitated for a moment, imperceptibly leaning his head towards Anne as if trying to understand her state of mind by listening to the cadence of her breathing - blind blue eyes veiled with concern otherwise perfectly masked by the neutral expression on his face.

"I'll join you in class, my love." She told him, rising on her tiptoes to dare giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to the professors, devoting her full attention to them.

Ominis reluctantly walked towards the North Hall letting his wand guide him while Professor Weasley sighed deeply as she made an amused observation about how nice it was to see young students happily in love.

"But now to us, Miss Smith!" She said enthusiastically. "The Headmaster and I wanted to speak to you about the Field Guide, which if I'm not mistaken should still be in your possession -"

"Ah, yes. Professor, forgive me for not returning it at the end of last academic year. I will make sure to return it to the Library today."

"Actually, Miss Smith, that's not what this is about." Headmaster Black interjected. "Last year you achieved excellent grades in all of your classes, and that was not to be taken for granted as you found yourself catching up on four years of missed studies. The Field Guide helped you to get up to speed, and - being a very sophisticated tool - it was not a given that you would learn to use it to its full potential. But my esteemed colleague told me that you did an impressive job with our enchanted encyclopaedia."

Professor Weasley stretched her wrinkled lips into a wide, welcoming smile as she looked at Anne with almost maternal pride.

"Aye. You did a great job catching up on your lessons last year. And because of that, you are the best candidate to assist the students who need to catch up during this academic year."

"Are we talking about tutoring?"

"That's right, Miss Smith." Headmaster Black spoke up as if he was genuinely pleased with what he was about to say. "We would like to ask you to volunteer your time to privately tutor students who need to catch up this year!"

Professor Weasley put her hands on her fat hips and nodded vigorously.

"This is how it is normally done. Usually it is the students themselves who help those who need to catch up with their studies. For instance, your friend, Miss Onai, was paired with Mr Clopton during her fourth year here at Hogwarts in order to help her settle in. In your case, given the considerable amount of work you needed to do in order to catch up with the other students, Professor Fig was chosen as your tutor - may Merlin preserve him!"

Anne smiled sadly, starting to fiddle hysterically with her long ginger hair as she tried not to dwell on memories of her special tutoring in London with her dearest professor.

"Yes, Miss Onai told me about her tutoring with Mr Clopton." She said avoiding further reference to Professor Fig. "You meant to ask me to tutor Miss Sallow, yes?" She then asked, brightening up suddenly.

"Yes, we would like you to tutor Miss Anne Sallow and Mr Samuel Smith -"

When Headmaster Black pronounced the name of her brother, Anne's blood froze in her veins despite the warm rays of the sun caressing her as the birdsong filled the air all around. Without so much as stopping to think, she spoke instinctively, unconsciously raising her voice.

"Why?!"

"What do you mean why?" Asked the Headmaster as if he were talking to a halfwit. "Miss Sallow lost her fifth year due to poor health -"

"I'm not talking about Miss Anne Sallow!" Anne interjected while still raising her voice, addressing the professors with self-assurance and defiance which she could only afford to show as Keeper. "Why should I be in charge of tutoring my - Mr Samuel Smith?! Is he not to catch up with the sixth year? Well, until proven otherwise I still have to attend the sixth year!"

"Miss Smith, I ask you to tone it down, otherwise I will be forced to take points from Slytherin." Admonished Professor Weasley before adding. "We only have one Field Guide at our disposal, and you happen to have learnt to use it extremely well. We are sure you could help Mr Smith study the topics he needs to align on simply by showing him how to use the Field Guide effectively. Since Anne Sallow will also need the Field Guide, and since our resources are limited with only one available, the ideal would be to organise a study group where the three of you come together after class hours for tutoring."

The Deputy Headmistress' words came distant and muffled to Anne's ears; her vision suddenly blurred as if she were about to faint on the lush grass of the Transfiguration Courtyard while her expressive dark eyes filled with tears.

"I cannot do this." She thought as a rush of nausea rose from her stomach to the back of her throat at the idea of being locked in a classroom forced to breathe the same air as her hated brother.

Private tutoring meant devoting precious hours of her free time to an insensitive brute and helping him catch up on his studies. How could she even think of sitting in the Library next to a person who had helped make her childhood a living hell? How could she even speak civilly to him when she remembered vividly every insult, every shove, every cruel mockery she had suffered at his hands?

"Of course you can refuse, Miss Smith, if you don't feel up to the task." Professor Weasley said, vaguely embarrassed at interrupting a heavy silence that Anne had protracted without even realising it. "Certainly, I would personally regret it very much because your knowledge of the Field Guide is a great asset in this situation. However, you can hand it back to us so that we can assign it to a seventh-year student who will gladly take care of Miss Sallow and Mr Smith. "

At those words Anne felt her breath catch again.

Anne Sallow's tutoring was linked to her brother's even though the two of them belonged to different academic years: avoiding her childhood tormentor also meant refusing to help her dear friend - a newfound sister to whom she had bestowed part of her own being. She could not back down. She could not leave Anne Sallow alone at such a difficult time as the one she was facing. She had promised Sebastian that very morning - she had sworn she would be there for her during her readjustment back into Hogwarts and that she would make sure she was happy. And what could be better than being her assigned tutor? What could be better than to be the anchor for her education for both her and the teachers who expected her to perform well?

"Besides, my brother is an arsehole. If I refuse to be their tutor, someone else will do it, but Anne would still be forced to spend time with Samuel. I can't leave her alone..."

"Miss Smith?" Professor Weasley asked, now blatantly embarrassed by the Keeper's silence.

"I shall do it. I will tutor both of them."

"Excellent, Miss Smith!" Phineas Nigellus Black exclaimed enthusiastically as his creepy, somewhat idiotic smile peeked out from under his moustache. "Your father will be very pleased to know you are so well disposed towards your brother. Good - I'd say that's it. Now we'll let you run off to class."

"I will expect you in my study tomorrow morning to work out the details of the tutoring which we will then communicate to the other two students, Miss Smith." Professor Weasley concluded with a sincere smile before walking away from the garden alongside Headmaster Black.

For a moment Anne stood impaled in the centre of the Transfiguration Courtyard.

Behind her, water gushed from the fountain and a pleasant summer breeze barely moved the branches of the large tree to her left. Classes were about to begin and no students were in sight all around her.

Her thin body was shaken by strong tremors, and although she was fit and athletic, at that moment she felt as small and puny as a crumpled piece of parchment thrown on a stone floor.

Suddenly she shook her head and straightened her back. "Stop it, Anne." She thought to herself for encouragement. "At the end of the day this is a good opportunity, isn't it? You'll be helping a friend - that's what counts. Who cares about your brother!"

She was about to resume her walk towards the North Hall when someone grabbed her Slytherin robes, tugging them gently to get her attention. After a moment's hesitation, Anne turned around, finding herself face to face with Lenora Everleigh; the plump Hufflepuff was red in the face and looked transfixed - her messy bun of brown hair added to her unkempt countenance even more than usual.

"Hello, Lenora. Do you - do you need something? I'm quite in a hurry, I'm late for the start of Professor Binns' lecture."

"Hi, Anne! Sorry I took the liberty of stopping you but - uh, I - I..."

"Yes?"

Lenora had big dark eyes that often reflected a certain lack of confidence as if she often felt uncomfortable or inferior to others. At that moment she was staring intently at Anne as if desperately wanting to confide something private to her, despite the fact that they were not particularly close.

"Well, I didn't realise you were Samuel's sister! I mean - Mr Smith..."

The fair ginger stiffened instantly, turned hostile by the mention of her brother like a cat ready to scratch after being petted against the grain.

"We bear the same fucking family name, Lenora. Yes, he is my brother." She replied through gritted teeth.

"Oh, but Smith is such a common family name - and - and besides, you weren't sorted into Hufflepuff so... I didn't think..."

Anne snorted dramatically, trying to hide her vulnerability from the other girl as she silently begged Merlin to calm her heartbeats.

"Get to the point, Lenora. I'm running late for class."

"Yes, of course, sorry! It's just that his return has sent the entire Hufflepuff House into a frenzy! All the girls are competing to get his attention - and - and I fancy him too! Couldn't you -"

"No!" The lovely ginger replied dryly. "Whatever concerns my brother, it doesn't concern me in the slightest. That's all you need to know. Good day, Lenora."

Without giving poor Lenora a chance to retort, Anne turned towards the entrance of the North Hall and began to run towards her destination without looking back.

As soon as the Keeper stepped into Professor Binns' classroom, her attractive lips distorted into a disgusted sneer upon noticing that the title of the day's lesson had already been written on the blackboard: History of Wandlore. A topic that was inherently most interesting, were it not that the soporific, monotonous voice of the ghostly teacher managed to render any lesson boring to the point of making his students wish they had never been born. Anne couldn't stand Professor Binns' lectures at all, which was very unfortunate indeed, since History of Magic greatly fascinated her.

Ominis and Sebastian had already taken their seats next to each other in the last row of the central aisle; they did not save a seat for her as if they had not expected to be joined by her in time for the start of the lecture. In the front row of the left aisle, Anne Sallow sat with Amit Thakkar, chatting amiably with him as she pointed to the blackboard showing the day's lesson.

"Looks like we arrived just in time for the start of class, my friend. And - lo and behold - two open seats that look like they were made just for us!"

Natty had appeared on the threshold of the dusty classroom, the tall, athletic body of the dark-skinned lioness standing out against the pale, shorter physique of her best friend.

"Natty! What joy!" Anne exclaimed, raising her voice in excitement and immediately wincing in embarrassment as she realised she had drawn the attention of the entire class. "Last night there was no opportunity to greet each other in the Great Hall." She added as she sat down in the empty desk in the last row of the right aisle.

"That means we will now use these two hours together to catch up on lost chatter! Unless you want to pay attention to Professor Binns?"

The young ladies burst out laughing, covering their mouths with their hands to try not to get attention to themselves, suddenly stopping when someone cleared their throat in reproach from the second row of their aisle.

Everett Clopton was turned towards them and stared incredulously at Natty, pointing to the empty seat next to him - his long black curls falling over his frowning forehead giving him the perfect air of a brooding dandy. The Gryffindor girl stared back at her sweetheart while waving no with her finger before linking arms with Anne, clearly stating that she preferred to sit next to her friend. Everett looked outraged and gasped causing the two girls sitting several desks behind him to giggle in amusement.

Just as Professor Binns was about to phlegmatically take the floor, Samantha Dale came bustling into the classroom, taking advantage of the vacant seat next to her housemate to sit down quickly so as not to interfere with the lecture.

The Ravenclaw boy cast one last disappointed glance towards his lovely lioness before greeting the newcomer, making room for her in the seat he had originally reserved for his girl.

"I certainly don't want to become one of those young witches who put their suitor before their friends." Natty proudly declared, turning to Anne to wink at her with those stunning dark eyes of hers always sparkling with curiosity and glee.

"Well said." Whispered the Slytherin girl in reply. "Besides, if there's one thing I've learnt about lads, it's that they need to be kept on their toes a bit. Otherwise they relax." She added, pointing to her own lad sitting to their left with his elbows firmly planted on his desk to hold his head.

The gaze of the Heir of Slytherin was blank - as usual - and his expression perfectly neutral: it would have been impossible to tell that he had already fallen asleep had it not been for his light snoring.

The two friends burst out laughing softly once again, and they did not stop for a single moment for the duration of the lesson. They chatted and exchanged innocent gossip hardly giving each other time to catch their breath as if they hadn't spent the entire summer constantly exchanging letters - absent-mindedly scribbling notes in the margins of their tomes from time to time.

The few times they actually paid attention to the lecture were when Sebastian and Leander Prewett raised their hands to answer Professor Binns' - almost rhetorical - questions, competing with each other passively-aggressively to see who could earn the most points for their House during the first lecture of the year. The Gryffindor boy certainly did not shine for intelligence and ended up saying unthinkable nonsense every time he tried to answer a question correctly; Sebastian was objectively a brilliant student and if he did intervene during the course of a lesson he always did so speaking to the point, but the desire to prove himself superior to Leander made him unnecessarily pompous, redundant, and consequently ridiculous in every statement he made that morning, and the Keeper found herself reflecting on the fact that it was definitely better to watch a duel between the two of them than to witness whatever it was they were doing at that moment.

"At least when they duel they're more or less silent, the idiots." Anne reasoned to herself, gazing fondly at Sebastian scrambling to answer a question while Ominis slept placidly by his side.

When the tedious lecture was finally over, the Slytherin heartthrob stopped paying attention to his rival and went to greet Natty to give her a tight hug much to the chagrin of Everett, who had remained watching his lioness from afar with his arms crossed in annoyance.

Anne Sallow wandered out of the classroom talking heatedly with Amit, and Anne Smith watched her walk out into the corridor without having time to announce her what she had been told by the professors before the lesson started.

Ominis, on the other hand, went straight to his sweetheart's side, asking her quite earnestly what Headmaster Black and Deputy Headmistress Weasley wanted from her. The two of them joined hands and Anne intertwined her fingers with his, smiling instinctively at his ever attentive and caring manner towards her.

Before they could start walking towards the Potions Classroom for their next class, just as Anne was about to speak to Ominis of her conversation with the professors, someone grabbed onto her Slytherin robes for the second time that morning.

"Hello, Anne! Interesting lesson, was it not? By the way, word is you've acquired a new wand - congratulations at last!" The thin lips of the Ravenclaw girl were stretched into a polite smile, as usual.

"Thank you, Samantha. If you wish to see my new wand at work, I suggest you drop by the Clock Tower Entrance later today. I know you disapprove of Crossed Wands, but I assure you I will cast spells you cannot even begin to imagine!" Anne replied cheerfully as she pulled up the sleeves of her uniform, revealing her slender arms as if already poised to descend into the duelling arena. "See you, Samantha."

"Wait, I wanted to ask you something!"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Well, your brother - boy, has he got himself all cleaned up compared to the days when he skipped classes to grow psychedelic fungi in the greenhouses! A year in Durmstrang has done him good - he's quite something, he's truly handsome! Do you suppose he's keen on courting girls? Do you know whether he already fancies someone? A Hufflepuff girl perhaps?"

Anne lowered her head to hide her vulnerable, angry expression behind the curtain of long ginger hair she had thankfully left loose that morning.

"Why do you care, Samantha? Are you contemplating feeding him a dose of Cupid Crystals, too?"

Ominis' velvety voice brought Anne's attention back to the present moment, icy and remorseless as only his voice could sound when someone aroused his wrath. Wrath that flared up with particular ferocity when Ominis felt cornered, or worse still if he felt compelled to defend one of the few people he genuinely cared about.

Worse still if the person in question was his incomparable witty girl - his sweet, precious Anne Smith.

Ignoring the way Samantha had begun to splutter and blush in utter embarrassment, the blind serpent reassuringly squeezed the hand of his fair ginger before guiding her out of the classroom without further ado.

"No. Most definitely no."

Professor Sharp's stern dark eyes were fixed on the Heir of Slytherin intent on helping his fair maiden sit on a stool to take her place at their favourite desk, the most isolated one in the entire Potions Classroom, located a fair distance from the teacher's desk on the left side of the room. Ominis' hands were still clasped on Anne's waist after he had lifted her slightly off the ground to rest her on her stool, not so much because she couldn't climb on it herself but rather to hear her giggle and impress her a little with his physical strength.

The former Auror pointed his index finger at the boy's chest as if he was accusing him of a heinous crime and was about to arrest him.

"No fawning in my classroom, Mr Gaunt. In fact, I think I'll actually move you to a different desk to prevent your hands from wandering far from your cauldron in search of something soft."

There was laughter across the classroom accompanying Ominis' slow steps as he walked away from Anne, snorting red in the face, to take a seat in the far corner where Samantha and Amit were sitting.

Professor Sharp took the opportunity to rearrange the seating so as to separate the more troublesome cliques of students who were likely to disrupt his lectures, having Garreth sit with Imelda and Violet in a desk of three and moving Natty to sit with Poppy Sweeting and Anne Sallow.

Last he sent Sebastian to take a seat next to Anne Smith, and the two of them looked at each other in astonishment, silently wondering how the former Auror could think that putting the two of them in a desk together was a good idea if what he wanted to avoid was losing his wits every five minutes.

The day's lesson was an introduction to the brewing of the Elixir to Induce Euphoria, and Professor Sharp, after a brief theoretical overview on the subject, set a time limit by which each student had to hand in their vial of elixir, which he would assess and then grade during the next lesson.

Sebastian looked at the ingredients that the former Auror had already neatly arranged on each table from his personal storeroom; he had the confused countenance of someone who doesn't quite know where to start, soft lips curving downwards and a furrowed brow forming an expression somewhere between hesitant and bored as he grabbed a tuft of peppermint while the water in his cauldron came to a boil. After making sure the peppermint was fresh, he pulled out a wooden chopping board from under the desk and began chopping it finely with a knife of adequate size.

"So, are you ready to make your Crossed Wands debut this afternoon, red?"

"You bet I am. You want to duel in pairs or would you rather go solo?"

"In pairs I would say. So you can have your moment of glory too. I wouldn't want you to burst into tears on the very first day of school because of me."

Anne gracefully crossed her taut legs on the stool, straightening her back and averting her gaze from Sebastian with an air of ostentatious haughtiness. His eyes flicked down to the hem of her grey skirt that had risen to reveal her mid-thighs, and he cursed the tights of her uniform that jealously concealed her snow-white skin. He jolted guiltily on his stool as her voice brought him back to reality; his eyes shifted diligently to the skilled hands of the Troll Slayer intent on adding porcupine quills to her cauldron as she watched her potion take on a lovely deep-blue colour.

"Keep dreaming, Sebastian. I could beat you without breaking a sweat. Besides, what makes you think I would choose you as my duelling partner today?"

"Don't make me laugh! And who would you choose? Let us hear it."

"I don't know, someone who wouldn't be in my way - someone who is strong and reliable, someone I don't have to carry like a child for him to keep up with my pace."

Sebastian nervously ran a hand through his unruly brown hair, summoning all his self-control to appear unmoved by her playful teasing so as not to give her the satisfaction of taking the bait and fervently argue that he had saved her life on several occasions in deadly duels. He had almost succeeded in his intent, remaining silent as he let his Elixir to Induce Euphoria simmer gently while noting with pride that the liquid was slowly taking on an orange colour that was most pleasing to the eye. He had almost done it when a testy remark escaped his lips without his brain being able to filter it out.

"I am your duelling partner, red."

"Of course you're my duelling partner, Sebastian. I'm well aware of that, I was only teasing. If only you weren't such a bloody wimp though..."

"Bloody wimp?! Me?!"

With an hysterical cry that greatly annoyed Professor Sharp, Sebastian finally fell into Anne's trap with both feet. She burst out giggling contentedly as he crossed his arms in outrage - her expressive dark eyes searched his as she ignored the teacher's warnings to be quiet.

"You are such a wanker, Sebastian." She said simply.

And he smiled, as he always did when she uttered those words at once vulgar and laden with affection.

Words of love, very different from those Anne spoke to Ominis, but words of love nonetheless, of that Sebastian was certain.

"And look at this." Continued the Troll Slayer, turning her attention back to her cauldron. "I would say that, as usual, I have brewed an exceedingly potent potion."

Sebastian looked into his own cauldron and grinned victoriously: his Elixir to Induce Euphoria was a perfect sunshine-yellow, a sign that it had been neatly brewed to produce a fine concoction.

"Ah, red! This time I will be the one to get the highest grade in the class. My potion isn't just excellent, it's flawless. Take a look."

The Troll Slayer got off her stool to go peek into the cauldron of her desk-mate; after a few minutes spent sniffing and carefully observing the colour of Sebastian's brew, Anne nodded weakly.

"Yes, you did a fine job, Sebastian. But your potion is nowhere near my league. Go ahead, take a closer look at mine."

She grabbed him by the sleeve of his Slytherin robes and unceremoniously dragged him in front of her cauldron so that he could actually take a closer look; when he merely raised his eyebrows doubtfully, she grew impatient and leaned over the table, pointing with her index finger to a spot just above the still-warm sunshine-yellow liquid.

Sebastian held his breath in astonishment and lowered his head even further onto Anne's cauldron where a multitude of rainbow-coloured reflections formed small arches suspended in mid-air.

"See? Rainbows! Now that's a flawless Elixir to Induce Euphoria." Anne sang as she gave Sebastian's forehead a weak smack, gloating in a way that might have suggested she'd had a fairly consistent dose of her own potion.

The Slytherin heartthrob watched her lovingly, remaining silent as she set about bottling her concoction and then walked confidently to Professor Sharp's desk to hand him her vial.

As the potions were delivered to the teacher's desk, the classroom slowly began to empty. Once through the doorway that overlooked the short corridor to the Library Annex, most of the students walked briskly towards the Great Hall where lunch was about to be served. Anne Smith lingered talking to the Sallow twins as they waited patiently for Ominis to join them. He was the last to deliver his Elixir to Induce Euphoria, but he was keen to point out to the prodigal potionist of the group that he was convinced he had done a fine job.

"I can imagine, my love." She replied with good-natured sarcasm.

"I notice a slight hint of sarcasm in your voice, Anne. Yet you should know that I manage well enough with potions. Since I cannot rely on my sight , I am slower than others, but that makes me far more meticulous."

Seeing her dear friend retort to the teasing while sounding vaguely offended, Anne Sallow's soft lips stretched into a smile as sweet as it was instinctive, then parted as if she were about to say something to him and cut in on the conversation.

The words died in her throat, however, and she found herself standing in silence, blushing with embarrassment when the lovely ginger took a small step forward towards him, gently grabbing the front of his Slytherin robes.

"I was only jesting, my 'touchy' love. I know you're good with potions." She whispered, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. "So? Are you ready to cheer for me, Gaunt?" She then asked him with sudden excitement.

"Absolutely not, I'm not even thinking about it."

Just as it had lit up with excitement, Anne Smith's countenance became a mask of disappointment within an instant. Then, she put on a resolute expression and stepped forward enacting her practiced and unfailing technique to make Ominis yield to any of her demands, whether serious or frivolous: pretending to embrace him chastely, she pressed her generous breasts against his chest making sure he could feel their shape as she continued to speak.

"What do you mean no?"

Ominis smiled and took a step back so as not to fall into the trap of his sweet girl.

"You are always most sensual when you try to manipulate me, Anne. But you won't be able to convince me this time. Hubbub, mayhem, ridiculous bluster shouted in between spells - witches sighing dreamily, inciting idiot wizards to add to the dose of said bluster. But mostly people. A crowd of people. You see, my love, Crossed Wands is the epitome of all the things I detest. You won't drag me there, not even dead." The blind serpent concluded his speech running a hand through his soft blond hair as he smiled contentedly at hearing the inarticulate, utterly outraged squeals emitted by his sweet companion.

"I'm going to be there, Ominis! Isn't that enough to convince you to come along? Just once, I don't ask for much!"

"Come on, red, as if you didn't know him!" Sebastian interjected, fixing his deep dark eyes in those of the Keeper and raising his eyebrows as if genuinely amazed at her insistence. "Ominis has never - and I mean never - come to watch me duel since I joined the club. Never! And he won't make exceptions for you either, red - he's stubborn. In fact, it shocked me to no end that he lent you his own wand to allow you to compete last year!"

Anne Sallow gasped and brought her left hand to her mouth as if that last statement genuinely astonished her.

"He lent you his wand to allow you to enter the tournaments? Blimey, Anne, he bloody loves you! Very much so! Ominis loathes Crossed Wands! He says it's a bloody show-off for loudmouths."

"It is." Ominis confirmed with nonchalance. "I wouldn't lower myself to step into that arena for anything in the world. I was taught that duelling is serious business."

Anne Smith clicked her tongue in disappointment as she went back to stand before Ominis.

"You're old inside, Gaunt." She murmured, cinching the knot in his tie.

The Heir of Slytherin swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed as he instinctively leaned his head to seek the mouth of his sweetheart as if he had suddenly forgotten he was standing in a crowded hallway. His bold gesture was stopped by a pale index finger that rested gently on his thin lips.

"Oh, Lord Gaunt, I bet you'd love to kiss me but you'll be late for lunch. Old men get cranky when they're hungry. Go on, go ahead and eat your luncheon, grandpa. I'll enjoy myself and show off instead."

Ominis bit his lower lip and gently seized the throat of the fair ginger as if he were about to put on a show in front of the Potions Classrom; she felt his strong hand squeeze her neck for a moment as his long fingers caressed her skin, then he stepped back again, shaking his head.

"Have fun, then. I will see you later, Smith." He told her in a slightly hoarse voice before turning to Anne Sallow, cheerfully offering her his right arm. "Come, my friend. We - who are most definitely the mature ones of the group - are leaving for lunch."

Sebastian fondly watched his sister laugh and blush as she walked away clutching his best friend's arm, then turned to the Troll Slayer with a mocking smile.

"You'll have to make do with my arm, red."

"I thought that in addition to your arm you wanted to offer me your wand. Aren't you my duelling partner?"

"I am."

They looked into each other's eyes as the Slytherin heartthrob held out his right arm to her, and as soon as her hand had tightened around his strong biceps, the snakes began to slither towards the Clock Tower Entrance.

When they arrived at Crossed Wands arena, they were greeted by a roar of chanting and cheering that echoed as loudly as the rumble of thunder throughout the height of the tower. A noisy, large crowd of students was ready to watch the matches of the day: word had spread that the Wandless had finally obtained a new wand, and everyone was eager to see her duel without holding back. A small group of fifth-year Hufflepuff students had even turned up with an enchanted banner of the kind usually intended for the stands of the Quidditch pitch on which they had written in huge letters “Troll Slayer”.

As soon as he spotted them in the crowd, Lucan Brattleby immediately ran up to Anne and Sebastian, his mop of black curls swaying to the rhythm of his footsteps like a bush blown by the wind. Without ceremony, the young lion asked if they intended to duel as a pair or if they preferred to participate in single matches, and when Sebastian wrapped his left arm around Anne's shoulders, proudly declaring that they would duel together, Lucan immediately invited them to enter the arena.

"Ladies and gents, it is my great pleasure to inform you that Sebastian Sallow and Anne Smith will be duelling as a pair today!"

The words of the young Gryffindor were greeted by another roar of excitement from the audience, but he was quick to wave his hands to silence everyone and continue speaking.

"Yes, I understand the enthusiasm. I can't wait to see them either - Sallow and Smith are nothing short of magnificent when they fight as a pair! But they are also the very best. Who will have the audacity to step onto the arena and face them?"

The first to step forward were Andrew Larson and Constance Dagworth, who declared that they had been training all summer for the opportunity to challenge the Troll Slayer to a duel: the Ravenclaws had no delusions of beating her, but they were determined to test themselves to see how long they could hold their own in the arena against her.

Anne and Sebastian took off their heavy Slytherin robes to be more agile in their movements, taking a few moments to warm up before fighting. All the girls present in the Clock Tower Entrance began sighing and calling Sebastian's name to cheer him on as soon as he pulled out his wand, preparing to take his position in the arena. The Slytherin heartthrob began to gloat and wink at every pretty face he could spot in the audience while the lovely ginger at his side held a hand to her forehead, shaking her head.

Andrew and Constance were defeated in a few simple moves by Anne, who did not fail to pull her duelling partner by the ear at the end of the match, telling him that, although she was perfectly capable of taking on even four of their schoolmates at a time, if they lost a duel because he was too busy thinking about cunt, she would make him pay handsomely for it.

One after the other, several pairs came forward to challenge the Slytherin wonders to a duel, but no one succeeded in making them struggle even a little.

Sebastian was bluster incarnate: he performed offensive spells far more complex and powerful than necessary, casting his gaze on the female audience and exulting internally whenever he saw a girl fanning herself watching him duel. Yet, as much as his deep dark eyes wandered from one pretty face to another with no apparent respite, they shone with delight only when they rested on the girl duelling at his side.

Anne's movements were fluid and controlled, her expression vaguely bored. None of those present were capable of engaging in a duel with the Keeper fighting on equal terms. It was like watching a big dog playing with its puppies, dosing the force of each movement so as not to risk hurting them. However, as much as Anne sincerely enjoyed duelling and loved a challenge, she equally loved to strut and be praised. Vain and proud, she soon decided that if she could not expect a tough challenge from her opponents, she would enjoy the crowd's cheering. Thus, one match after another, the Slytherin girl found herself laughing light-heartedly and feeling her heartbeat quicken with joy, as well as physical exertion.

When the tower clock chimed four o'clock in the afternoon, Lucan called a ten-minute break so that Anne and Sebastian could catch their breath, seeing as they hadn't stopped for a moment since they had started duelling.

"Your audience loves you, red." Sebastian said, pointing behind him with the thumb of his right hand as his attractive lips parted in a sweet smile meant only for his duelling partner.

"Of course they do. I am by far the main attraction of this club."

"Always modest."

"Always!"

They moved a few steps to lean against the iron gate that ran behind them along Crossed Wand's arena while Lucan was intent on encouraging a pair of seventh year Gryffindor boys who seemed keen to challenge Anne and Sebastian as soon as they caught their breath.

The fair ginger sighed deeply, wiping the perspiration from her forehead with her left forearm; she had pulled up the sleeves of her white shirt to elbow height before beginning to duel, exposing her white skin to Sebastian's fleeting glances

"Hopefully the next match will keep us on our toes a bit. Though, sadly, I'm not holding out much hope, to be honest."

"If you'd rather, we could always take each other on, red. I know how to give you a hard time, that's for sure."

"No, not today. Today we duel together, Sebastian." She murmured softly.

She gave Sebastian's right arm a playful little nudge as she slid her back along the iron gate to approach him and rest her head on his shoulder.

He smiled and closed his eyes to enjoy the moment while in the background continued to echo the clamour of the other students and Lucan's voice, ever busy organising the next matches of the day.

"Hmm, are you feeling rested, red? If you're thirsty, sometimes Lucan brings flasks filled with pumpkin juice for those who are exhausted."

"No, I'm not thirsty. I'm ready to start again!"

Anne hopped back to the centre of the arena, curtseying gracefully to the audience to play the fool as they went back to chanting and waving the banner in her honour.

But suddenly all was quiet.

Three seventh-year boys had appeared on the threshold of the Clock Tower Entrance. One of them was the Slytherin Prefect and to his right stood a Hufflepuff lad with hair so blond it almost looked white.

And one step behind them loomed another badger, tall and slender.

In the few moments it took for the audience to recover from their stupor and start making a fuss again, Samuel Smith advanced towards the centre of the arena with his friends in tow - thick, neatly styled ginger hair framed a countenance that could be considered strikingly handsome for male aesthetic standards.

His piercing dark eyes were fixed on young Lucan as if all the people intent on observing him at that moment did not exist at all.

"You are Lucan Brattleby, are you not?" He asked in a voice that was at once melodious and deep.

"Yes. I am the founder as well as the mediator of Crossed Wands. Samuel Smith, right? You were never interested in the club if I'm not mistaken."

Samuel Smith shrugged and remained silent. When he realised the young lion was expecting an answer, he sighed almost disdainfully before continuing.

"I've never been that interested in duelling, I've always preferred Quidditch. But at Durmstrang, the art of duelling is taught with all seriousness and proper discipline. I have come to greatly appreciate the sport."

"He would like to compete." The Slytherin Prefect interjected. "I'll vouch for him, Brattleby."

"Ah, I see."

Lucan looked intimidated by the older boys yet at the same time hesitant about what to do. He tormented his soft lower lip with his teeth for a few moments before nodding.

"All right. How can we deny access to someone who has duelled with the proud sons of Durmstrang? You have a duelling partner? We were about to resume -"

"I'd rather fight alone, if that's all right." Samuel absent-mindedly cast his gaze on the enchanted banner written by his housemates. "Troll Slayer." He muttered, smiling wryly. "Word has it that my sister is unrivalled in duelling. So, why not? I'd like to start off challenging her. She's here, isn't she?"

Lucan gestured in the general direction where Anne and Sebastian were still standing in the centre of the arena, a look of astonishment was painted on his face as if he wondered how it was possible that he hadn't noticed his sister yet.

When Samuel turned to Anne, his expression remained the same - neutral except for that strange, indecipherable little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Hello, sister." He said aloud, advancing towards the centre of the arena. "Long time no see. You became a witch - and a Slytherin, who knew?"

Anne had been completely frozen in the centre of the Clock Tower Entrance from the first moment her brother had stepped forward to speak to Lucan. Such was her immobility that the medieval armour scattered around the sides of Crossed Wands arena and the very dummies that were used for duelling practice seemed more alive than she was. Her vision was blurred, her breath held as if she were underwater, and her mind absent to the point that she did not feel the gentle touch of Sebastian's hand on her right arm as he tried to figure out if she was feeling ill. She only returned to the present moment when she realised that Samuel was standing in front of her, watching her intently.

The gaze of Durmstrang's former student was resting nonchalantly on her body and seemed to linger on her white shirt and the way it wrapped around her chest bringing out her breasts, which had always been ample for a physique as thin as hers.

"You have become a woman." He stated as he gazed back into her eyes.

A statement that made Anne's blood run cold in her veins, leaving her gaping in disgust as if she had been punched in the stomach despite the seemingly flat and matter-of-fact way it had been uttered.

"Alright, sister. I formally challenge you to a duel. What better way to bring us together again? After all, we don't have much to say to each other." Samuel continued.

His manner of speaking did not necessarily sound cruel, it was the way of speaking of someone straightforward and rather unashamed who says what he thinks and tells things as they are without trying to sugarcoat them. Which didn't work in his favour anyway: to Anne's eyes he was the usual dim-witted lad, lacking all savviness and always ready to do the bidding of the head of the family, boorishly, without even trying to develop a thought of his own.

"Red?"

Anne had detached herself from reality again, and Sebastian's soft voice brought her back to attention. She turned to him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish trying to breathe out of water, and although she tried to hide her expression by letting her long ginger hair fall in front of her face, he could make out the tears that marked her cheeks.

"She has frozen." Sebastian thought, feeling a painful twinge in his heart.

If there was one thing the Slytherin heartthrob couldn't stand, it was seeing Anne Smith in tears.

He gently grasped her shoulders and looked deep into her ink-black irises as if hoping to read her thoughts. Her eyes were filled with tears and seemed dilated with fear - the Keeper who had faced and defeated horrifying monsters, who had fought a war alone and who had been able to kill in cold blood when necessary, was now paralysed by the nightmarish memories of her childhood.

While Anne stood frozen in the centre of the arena, her memory brought back the metallic taste of her own blood in her mouth and on her cheeks the sting of the blows she received right in the face from her older brother when she had dared touch his toys with her filthy squib hands.

"Well? What's the matter sister?" Samuel urged, huffing as if the wait was boring him to death.

Sebastian let his hands slide down Anne's arms, squeezing them reassuringly, then he turned to the Hufflepuff boy and strained to flash one of his most attractive, nonchalant smiles - the kind he usually reserved for girls he wanted to seduce or rivals he wanted to befuddle with a seemingly friendly gesture.

"Say Smith, how about I duel you in place of your sister? I'd love to see what a duellist trained in Durmstrang has in store."

"Hmm?" Samuel shifted his attention to the Slytherin heartthrob looking increasingly bored. "Sebastian Sallow. You have always been a fearsome opponent on the Quidditch pitch, and you have always held the record as the best duellist in all of Hogwarts. I will gladly face you in a duel when the opportunity arises."

"Why not now?"

"Because now I 'm challenging my sister." Samuel said, pointing at her with his index finger as if he was talking to a halfwit and had to explain everything he said properly. "You cannot take her place in a formal duel - you don't have the title to do so."

"She can always step down, though, if she wants to. She has already fought several matches today." Lucan offered politely as he trotted towards them to better understand the situation.

"Nonsense." Muttered Samuel as he shrugged yet again.

He walked a few steps away and took off his heavy Hufflepuff robes, tossing them to the housemate he'd shown up with at the club as if he were his squire. Then, as if it were nothing, he stripped off the waistcoat and shirt of his uniform, standing bare-chested in the middle of the Clock Tower Entrance.

Tall and brawny, skin as fair as his sister's - Samuel Smith was now the centre of attention and all the girls present began to let out excited shrieks, pointing at him as if he were a delicious dessert to be ordered from an imaginary waiter by pointing their fingers at the menu.

Sebastian cast his gaze over the young witches, vaguely outraged and offended as they fussed over Samuel Smith without so much as a glance at him. Then he shook his head and focused his attention back on Anne, surprised to notice that she too was looking at the female audience, hatred and disgust painted in equal measure on her features as if she couldn't quite comprehend the situation.

"Aha, forgive me, Sallow. I seem to have stolen your thunder. Alas, there's nothing I can do about it." Samuel said, moving back to approach the centre of the arena as he gave Sebastian a smile that appeared sincere.

The Slytherin heartthrob said nothing and merely looked at him quizzically without ceasing to gently squeeze Anne's arms to give her courage.

When his jest failed to gain traction, Samuel raised his left hand, gesturing first towards his own face and then towards the body of his sister, pointing generically at her. When this also failed to gain impact, he spoke in a monotone voice.

"The mother of our father was a full-blooded Veela. My sister was never introduced to our grandmother - I don't even think anyone ever told her she had Veela blood in her. I, on the other hand, used to have a lot of fun pissing Grandma off as a child so that she would turn into a harpy."

He laughed idiotically, but the girls didn't seem to mind, and they continued to stare at the firm muscles of his torso holding their breath as if they were about to burst on the spot.

Sebastian turned his head to glance at Anne, who had not been listening to a word Samuel said and was still staring at the floor with her mouth open as if she were in a trance.

"Of course, Veela's blood! Her skin, her allure, the way men desire her to the point of becoming obsessed with her - fuck, it makes perfect sense! No wonder Ominis and I tore each other apart like lovesick cats over her..." Sebastian's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Samuel's melodic voice as he spoke again.

"Come on, sister, let's begin." He turned to the audience, running a hand through his soft ginger hair while winking at the girls. "My sister looks like she could use a little incitement!"

Within an instant, the cackling voices of the students crammed into the Clock Tower Entrance rose up again, cheers and chants of all kinds mingling together as Samuel spread his arms and waved them upwards to ask the crowd to shout even louder.

"Red, are you all right? Are you up for a duel?" Sebastian asked in a whisper.

"No - no! Sebastian, I - I -"

Anne couldn't even speak.

The mighty Troll Slayer continued to stand impaled in the centre of the arena, and at that moment Sebastian saw reflected on her face the fear and the grief of a child left to fend for herself - the Keeper's resolve nowhere to be found. His deep dark eyes were fixed on hers, his mind frantic and spinning as he tried to think of what he could do to help Anne and get her out of that situation without her being humiliated by her brother while she merely pleaded desperately with her eyes for him to do something, anything.

Suddenly, the clamour of the howling students turned into a respectful silence interrupted only by whispers veiled with curiosity and astonishment.

A moment later, Ominis Gaunt was stepping into the arena.

The warm rays of the sun shone on the narrow stone bridge that connected the Gryffindor Tower to the Clock Tower Entrance, their warmth tempered by a light summer breeze.

Anne Sallow sighed deeply and began fanning her face with her right hand while her left clung to Ominis' arm.

"I can't believe I'm actually about to witness the moment when elusive, withdrawn Ominis Gaunt sets foot into Crossed Wands' chaotic arena!"

"Trust me, I can't believe it either."

"And yet it's going to happen! Love makes people do the strangest things, doesn't it?"

Ominis paused for a moment before answering, thinking back with embarrassment to the way he had been humiliated at wizards' chess by Imelda during the afternoon - his mind constantly distracted by the thought that he was standing too far away from his sweet ginger to hear the melodious sound of her laughter as she enjoyed duelling with her friends. He thought back to the way his left foot had kept tapping nervously on the stone floor of the common room, the way his teeth had kept biting down on his thin lips until he had given in and asked his trusted friend to accompany him to the Clock Tower Entrance.

"Love is a mighty force, Anne. Tremendous, in fact. I don't know how to do it justice describing it in words - I don't know how to explain how I feel about her." Ominis confessed in a velvety whisper that was both sincere and vulnerable. "All I know is that every time I hold her in my arms, the rest of the world fades away. When she talks to me, everything she says sounds like the most interesting and important thing in the world to me, even when - and let's face it this happens a lot - she's talking bollocks. I - I'm in love with her - I -"

"Ominis, I'm - I'm very happy for you. For both of you! And - and please forgive me for not wanting to mention this matter before, I wasn't ready to hear you say such things... I wasn't ready to see you in love - truly in love - with another girl."

"Anne, forgive me. I didn't mean -"

Ominis' words were lost in the clamour that reached their ears through the thick oak door in front of them. It was not the noise, however, that had suddenly caught the attention of the blind serpent: his wand detected something.

Something horrible and unacceptable.

The white chestnut wood had begun to vibrate hysterically while the faithful unicorn hair at its core exuded a powerful mix of anxiety and rage.

There was only one thing that made Ominis Gaunt's sentient wand feel emotions so intense and so definite: Anne Smith.

The chestnut stalk had become symbiotic with the red-haired witch even before its own master realised he had fallen in love with her, and it was it that had desperately steered its blind owner in the right direction.

And now it was pointed stiffly at the oak door as it shouted loudly against the palm of Ominis' hand that something was deeply wrong - that their witty girl was suffering immensely on the other side of that very door.

The Heir of Slytherin quickened his pace, entering the Clock Tower Entrance with resolve, ready as much to spit venom as to fight if necessary.

He made his way through the crowd without realising that Anne Sallow could not keep up with him, ignoring anyone who spoke to him with the cold disdain of a true nobleman - of a true Gaunt.

Then, at last, he understood what was happening. And his heart sank into an abyss of black despair mixed with seething anger.

Samuel Smith, the handsome red-haired badger who had just returned from Durmstrang - with his noble ancestry, his titles, and his loathsome beliefs about blood status - stood in the centre of the duelling arena as he incited the audience to raise their voices, swaggeringly declaring that a formal duel was about to begin between him and his sister. On the other side of the arena, paralysed by memories of life-long abuse and violence, stood Ominis' witty girl - the love of his life.

Without a second thought, without even noticing the silence that had suddenly fallen all around him, the Heir of Slytherin stepped forward and into Crossed Wands arena.

Tall, proud, focused only on Anne Smith, he advanced until he was at her side.

When she saw him, she raised her head, letting her long ginger hair slip behind her shoulders as if suddenly no longer ashamed of the tears that streaked her face, and the core of the chestnut stalk vibrated even more ferociously.

"Ominis, you are - you are here!" She whispered, grateful and incredulous, as she timidly took a step towards him to embrace him.

He didn't stop in his tracks, however; he nodded to Sebastian as he took off his Slytherin robes to throw them into his hands. He then turned towards the spot where he heard the heavy footsteps of the Hufflepuff boy intent on approaching him.

"Smith." He greeted coldly.

"Ominis." Samuel reciprocated, perfectly calm as if greeting an old friend. "Father has informed me. The contract has already been signed. It seems that we will soon become kin."

"I will duel in her place." Ominis said coldly, skipping the pleasantries.

There was a moment's hesitation on Samuel's part.

"Well, she is your betrothed. You have the title and the right to stand in for her in a formal duel if you so wish."

"I care to honour our traditions, do you not?" Ominis curtly replied. "It is customary for a pureblood wizard of high lineage to be challenged to a duel by the family patriarch or by the elder brother of his bride-to-be so that he may prove himself worthy of her."

Anne brought her hands to her chest and let out an agitated cry - fright and anxiety reflected in her sweet dark eyes as she stared at Ominis' shoulders while he was intent on rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as his back was to her.

Sebastian placed a hand on her shoulder to reassure her.

"Red, it's all right. The old bastard knows what he's doing." He told her as he carefully watched the movements of the blind serpent.

Sebastian knew that hostile behaviour well enough: it was the one his best friend would assume whenever Ominis gave way to Gaunt. And Anne knew that behaviour well in turn, but she was too shaken to think clearly.

Samuel chuckled and nodded as if genuinely amused.

"I'm fine with it." He said simply as he walked several steps away, shrugging his shoulders.

The audience had resumed roaring and chanting while Samuel's friends had sat on the wooden bench at the far side of the arena where the badger was going to fight.

Sebastian did the same, going to sit on the wooden bench on the opposite side, where his and Anne's Slytherin robes lay abandoned.

Ominis stepped towards his lovely ginger, addressing her in a firm voice.

"Go sit with Sebastian, Anne."

But she placed her hands on his chest clinging to his shirt as if her life depended on it, and her alluring rosy lips parted to let out a hissing whisper as adoring as it was imploring.

"Ominis, be careful! In Durmstrang they study the Dark Arts - he - he -"

Ominis had always thought Parseltongue sounded exotic and strange pronounced by Anne who had struggled hard to learn how to speak it, obediently following his teachings. He smiled imperceptibly at her words, moved by the vulnerability she was showing at that moment and almost amused by the warning she had tried to give him.

"Who do you think you are talking to, my love?" He answered her in the same serpentine language - his accent cold and ominous compared to her softer one.

Without much thought, he lowered his head to capture her mouth in a kiss. His tall, slender physique hid hers from the view of the audience, but from the way his broad shoulders and his blond head moved, it was all too clear what he was doing to her, and the crowd began to whistle and make allusive puns at them.

Ominis didn't care, he straightened up, gently brushing the thumb of his left hand over her lips, murmuring softly.

"For good luck."

Then, in a flash, his expression reverted to serious and hostile; he turned towards the centre of the arena and advanced, pointing the chestnut stalk in front of him as he tilted his head to the side to better focus on Samuel Smith's footsteps.

The handsome badger stood planted on his mark with the calm, measured countenance of someone who is fully aware of his abilities without underestimating those of his opponent. Said opponent, on the other hand, was tense, even willing to play dirty in order to make sure that the warning he intended to deliver came through loud and clear.

So the Heir of Salazar Slytherin and that of Helga Hufflepuff stood still, waiting for Lucan to give the signal to begin - moments that for Anne seemed to last for years.

"Ladies and gents, this is a most unique event! There are two future Lords competing in our arena today! Unsociable Ominis Gaunt against Durmstrang's son, Samuel Smith!" Shouted the young mediator, giving the signal to begin duelling.

Samuel bowed deeply in respect for his opponent, barely raising his eyebrows in astonishment when he saw Ominis hardly tilt his head forward - a silent and calculated display of disrespect. Unperturbed, Helga's descendant sprang to his feet, moving his wand with incredible speed.

"Depulso!"

"Protego!"

A strong shockwave slammed into Ominis' protective shield, and Sebastian clutched Anne tightly to him as their backs were crushed against the iron gate behind them. With equal swiftness and precision, the blind serpent cast a Confusion Hex at his opponent, who was quick to counter with a Backfiring Jinx, forcing Ominis to raise a protective shield in front of him again to defend himself from his own hex.

The duellists began an intricate, fierce dance of spells and counterspells that increasingly resembled a duel to the death rather than a skirmish between students.

Anne was well aware of Ominis' duelling prowess, yet she could not help but tremble and whimper in despair every time her hated brother seemed to prevail against him. She went so far as to cover her eyes with her hands as if the gesture was meant to end the damned match sooner rather than later, and flinched blatantly when Sebastian placed his left hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

The Slytherin heartthrob - experienced duellist in his own right - was intently watching the movements of his best friend; he nervously ran a hand through his unruly brown hair and then pointed his index finger at Ominis' back.

"He's got him." He said simply.

And, as if he had been able to fully predict his moves, a moment after Sebastian had spoken, Ominis shattered Samuel's Protego charm, striking him once, then again before he bellowed: "Expulso!"

There was a powerful beam of blue light, and Samuel Smith was thrown violently against the stone wall behind him - drops of blood began to gush from the abrasion formed on his bare back from the impact with the stone wall.

There were thunderous cheers in honour of the Heir of Slytherin.

A small group of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw girls crowded around Samuel Smith to make sure he was all right, but the gaze of the handsome badger was fixed on Ominis - his expression indecipherable.

The warning from his opponent had been clear and deliberate: he had won fair and square, but at the same time he had given him a taste of his own might and resolve.

And the way he was now approaching to shake his hand concealed the gist of his warning: "I do not seek a confrontation with you, but if you force me to fight, I will be the one to end it" he seemed to be saying, his countenance serious and hostile enough for him to express that concept without the need for him to put it into words.

Samuel got up from the ground and accepted a Wiggenweld Potion from the Slytherin Prefect as he nodded in understanding to Ominis, making an effort to smile.

"Looks like you can keep shagging my sister, Gaunt." He told him as if trying to build camaraderie with him in the hope of creating some sort of manly brotherhood.

But Ominis did not appreciate the vulgar remark and replied in a tone as polite as it was icy.

"I happen to be in love with your sister, Smith. She is most dear to me." He curtly said giving even more substance and clarity to his warning.

Then, without adding anything else, he turned and walked towards Anne, who had meanwhile got up to run over to him.

Sebastian got up in turn from the wooden bench and began to gather their Slytherin robes; he took a few steps towards them, only to stop a moment later. His heart skipped a little, that dull, constant ache he had grown accustomed to and which he felt every time he laid his gaze on the happy couple.

He had loved Anne Smith. He still loved her. He loved her at all times. Deeper every day, if possible.

Giving her up had been the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. Yet he had found the strength to step aside and let his best friend live his love dream with her, learning in that moment the true meaning of the word Love - understanding the courage it takes to give love even when it cannot be reciprocated as one wishes.

And now he looked at Anne nestled in Ominis' arms, devotion reflected in her sweet dark eyes as she clung to him for his protection. His gestures were loving, gentle - the relief at the idea of holding his sweet girl in his arms evident in the way he breathed. And Sebastian could only accept the fact that Ominis was Anne's knight in shining armour, not him - he was just the poor stable boy, the one watching the princess from the courtyard as she looks out of the window to gaze at the landscape.

And now that princess was gazing dreamily at her knight, forgetting the crowd around her as she parted her lips in a quivering smile - soft, tempting lips that were silently begging to be kissed.

And Ominis would kiss them.

The tension in his strong hands as they gripped Anne's waist possessively was evident - the eagerness to be alone with her, far from the crowd and far from the hubbub.

They walked away like that, the fair ginger on the arm of the Heir of Slytherin while the other students all around continued to make a racket.

Sebastian watched them leave, smiling sadly, only to compose himself as his sister appeared beside him.

"Help me get the lovebirds' uniforms to the common room. Too busy fawning on each other to remember to take their things, those two."

"Uh, do you think we'll find them there? It's dinnertime soon. Oh, we could all play a game of Gobstones together tonight!"

"I don't think Anne and Ominis will be back in the common room tonight at all, sister."

"I see..." Anne Sallow muttered, wearing on her face the same mask of sadness that her brother had worn moments before.

"The nerve of that bastard! The vile arsehole!" Snarled Ominis, raising his voice as he walked briskly into the Room of Requirement, leaving Anne on the threshold. "But if he thinks he can approach you like it's nothing after what he put you through, he's sorely mistaken! Vile brute that he is!"

Still seething with anger at the thought that Samuel Smith had made his precious Anne feel uneasy and humiliated, Ominis loosened his green tie with more strength than necessary, hanging it over the back of one of the many cushioned chairs set around the study table in the Keeper's private library. A moment later, his shirt went to cover the tie after he had unceremoniously stripped it off to wipe away the perspiration he had worked up during the fight in Crossed Wands arena.

He and Anne had headed for the Room of Requirement as soon as the duel between him and her hated brother was over. Like a pair of eagles huddling inside their nest after having successfully defended it from another predator, the Heir of Slytherin and his Lady-to-be needed privacy, quiet - they needed to be in each other's arms to regain peace of mind.

Ominis was simply livid.

Every step he had taken from the Clock Tower Entrance to the Astronomy Tower had served to further fuel his wrath instead of dissipating it, as he found himself replaying in his mind every detail of that unpleasant encounter - Samuel's arrogance, his heartlessness and apparent indifference to the emotional suffering of his sister. How could he think of approaching her as if they were a happy family after the years of abuse and discrimination she had suffered within the walls of the Smith mansion? Either he was a complete dimwit or he was a perfect arsehole. And either way, Ominis was determined to hate him with every fibre of his being.

"That disgusting filth - fucking subhuman! I swear if he tries to corner you like that ever again, I won't answer for myself! I swear I will bend my elbow against him and make him suffer - to Hell with the consequences!"

Ominis stood still in the centre of the room and held both hands in his blond hair, dishevelling it slightly as he shook his head. Then suddenly he slammed his fists hard on the wooden table in front of him. A powerful mix of adrenaline and testosterone coursed through his veins like liquid fury making his every muscle tremble as if struck by electricity as he remained slightly bent over the table resting his weight on his hands.

Anne approached him tentatively, sweet dark eyes fixed on the floor of the chamber and a slight blush spread across her cheeks.

"Ominis? I'm sorry about what happened -"

"What? Oh, my love, forgive me. I shouldn't behave like this."

Ominis immediately turned to Anne, extending his arms towards her to invite her into an embrace.

Without hesitation, she clung to him and hid her face in his chest.

"Are you terribly cross?" She asked in a whisper, tickling his skin with her breath.

"I'm pissed as Hell. Forgive me if I can't control myself. When I think back to the scene I witnessed when I stepped into that damn arena..."

"You were coming to cheer me on." She said, closing her eyes as an innocent smile suddenly lit up her face.

Ominis' thin lips curved upwards in turn, his anger slightly soothed by the thought that Anne seemed peaceful clutched in his arms and that her voice sounded dreamy and laced with adoration for him.

"Aye, I was coming to cheer you on."

She let out a satisfied giggle and moved her head from his chest to caress it with her hands. Her slender fingers gently traced the scars that marked Ominis' skin - the ones his hated brother had given him. The lovely ginger thought back to that nefarious day - she thought back to the storm, to Marvolo Gaunt's violence and the sickening things he had tried to do to her.

And she thought back to Ominis, to his slashed chest and his determined, confident countenance.

He had protected her then, and he had protected her that very day too.

He would always protect her - he had promised her. And Ominis Gaunt always kept his promises.

Standing on her tiptoes, Anne left a trail of gentle kisses along his taut jaw; her lips brushed against his skin in a strangely hesitant gesture, as if she was trying to get his attention without having the courage to take the initiative more resolutely. Her silent request was granted without any hesitation on Ominis' part, who lowered his head to capture her mouth in a passionate kiss as soon as he felt her breath become slightly laboured as her soft lips tickled his cheek.

The hands of the Heir of Slytherin slipped unabashedly over the arse of his fair ginger, slithering under the skirt of her uniform to eagerly grope her curves as a strangled grunt rose in his throat forcing him to break the kiss.

Ominis needed to get rid of the tension he had built up during his clash with Anne's brother, it was easy to tell by the way he kissed her, looming over her as if he was about to devour her.

And she closed her eyes, relaxing and allowing him to take control as his scent washed over her - the fragrance of his expensive cologne mixed with the strong smell of the sweat he had worked up in Crossed Wands arena made her feel weak at the knees. It was a manly scent, utterly attractive, as were his movements and the dominant stance he assumed as he held her gently in his arms.

Ominis kept Anne safe in his coils, kissing her unhurriedly yet fiercely, forcing her to tilt her head back due to the sheer intensity of his passion, and soon she was overwhelmed by her own passion.

The pleasant warmth radiating from his bare skin, the hard muscles in his chest and stomach twitching every time her delicate hands brushed over them, and again his velvety voice made hoarse with arousal as he grunted against her lips: within moments, a wet slick of feminine fluids formed between Anne's legs, and she whimpered with embarrassment when Ominis' hands - still buried under her skirt, avidly palming her - found their way onto it.

His kiss suddenly became gentler, somewhat careful as he let the forefinger and middle finger of his left hand slide along the wet fabric of her tights to feel with his fingertips the swollen outline of her cunt.

Another embarrassed squeal escaped her lips as she resumed to gently kiss his jaw.

"Ominis?" She asked weakly.

She seemed to have a thousand needs to express without knowing how to ask for them, as if she were partly too embarrassed and partly too caught up in the thrill of the moment to express herself in plain words.

Thus she called his name, languid and candid at the same time. Yet that was all he needed to understand her.

His fingers continued to carefully rub her tights, another choked grunt slipped out from his lips as he felt her wetness growing against his fingertips.

"I've got you, Anne. I will take care of you, my sweet love." He whispered in her ear.

Then, without warning, his fingers pushed hard on the spot where her tights concealed her clitoris, making her jerk and moan yet again.

"Do you want me to get you off right now, love? Or you want me to make you come while I'm inside you?" His voice sounded unexpectedly harsh, the voice of a Lord who has asked a question and demands an answer.

"Yes - yes! Ominis I want - I need you to make love to me."

There was an animalistic grunt that echoed throughout the Room of Requirement, then Ominis leaned his forehead against Anne's.

"Then we have to wait about half an hour." The words came out of his mouth as if it cost him an immense effort to utter them and as if he was appealing to all his self-control not to brutally jump on her. "I haven't got any contraceptive potions with me. You must give me time to prepare one." He added, nodding his head to the right, where he knew Anne's potion stations were located.

"Oh, sure. Will - will it take half an hour?"

"About. Why don't you pop up to your room and freshen up in the meantime? It makes me go insane when you doll yourself up for me."

She smiled and blushed slightly, then gave him a kiss on the cheek and trotted to the spiral staircase on the right of the room to ascend to her lofty bedroom.

Flooded by the excitement and trepidation she felt at the prospect of making herself pretty for Ominis, Anne went to sit on her bed to look at herself in the lovely ornamental mirror on her bedside table. Humming happily, she used the time she had to vigorously brush her hair to make it shiny again after the afternoon spent perspiring in Crossed Wands arena. She gathered her soft ginger locks into a simple plait to make her neck easier to reach for Ominis' lips, blushing slightly at the thought.

She spent about twenty minutes rummaging through the dresser where she kept her undergarments and lingerie, undecided whether to wear something simple or something provoking. She knew that if Ominis had any say in the matter, he would opt for her to wear the most obscene lingerie ever conceived on Earth. She put her hands on her cheeks, feeling them flush, and at that very moment inspiration came to her: Ominis loved being teased, seduced, and she was going to humour him.

Having undressed, she descended the spiral staircase with uncertain steps, gloriously naked.

Ominis was sitting on the counter of her huge Gothic potion station; in the silver cauldron to his right simmered a potion of a scarlet red. He had taken off his shoes and socks, and he was supporting himself on one leg while the other was bent at the knee to rest his foot against the black wood of the cabinet. In his hand was a letter that he was apparently reading while holding the chestnut stalk pointed at the parchment; from time to time, he paused to point his wand at the cauldron and turn the ladle inside it clockwise.

"Who is writing to you? Or are you secretly peeking at a letter meant for me?" Anne asked, smiling as she approached Ominis with hesitant steps, suddenly acutely aware of her nudity.

"Hmm? Oh, it's a note left for us by Deek. He apologises, he says he will be absent these days because he will have to constantly assist Professor Weasley - they will have a lot to do with the start of the academic year." He gestured with a nod to a wheeled cart placed to the left of the potion station. "He left dinner cooked for us. Pork chops, since ‘Miss Smith likes them so much’. Are you hungry?"

As Ominis snuffed out the fire under the cauldron with an elegant flick of his wand, Anne laid eyes on the covered tray resting on the wheeled cart. It was steaming, a sign that Deek had cast a spell to keep dinner warm. She smiled, thinking of her thoughtful elf friend, then turned to Ominis and stepped closer to him.

"I'm hungry for something else right now." She said, praying to sound charming as she struggled to control the tremor in her voice.

Ominis smiled to himself as he slipped his wand into the pocket of his breeches.

"Are you now?" He murmured, extending his hands towards her to invite her into a hug. "The potion is ready - I shall wait to drink it and let it cool down about ten minutes. You know, kissing you with a burnt tongue would take all the fun away for me." He laughed like an idiot at his own jest.

His hands seized Anne's hips, and the instant they caressed her bare skin, his laughter died down and surprise was painted on his handsome features - blind blue eyes glazed with lust slowly closing as if in the throes of the most intense ecstasy.

"Fuck." He whispered - a hoarse, velvety voice that caused Anne's heartbeats to spike. "You don't want to waste time, huh? Allow me to indulge you, love."

Before she could realise his intentions, the lovely ginger felt the hands of the Heir of Slytherin tighten on her hips and lift her off the floor to rest her on the work table of the potion station as if she had been a rag doll. Her heart now seemed to go frantic as she found herself with her back to Ominis, lying on her right side amidst the candles used to light the counter and the ornamental silver urns that contained all her precious ingredients.

"Ominis, what are you doing?" She asked with a small, hysterical cry as she clasped her legs together and blushed anew in embarrassment.

"What is it, love? You come up to me naked and then suddenly act coy? What did you expect?"

The wood of the potion station creaked softly as Ominis rested his right hand beside Anne's elbow, as she was trying to hold herself up to turn her head towards him.

"It seems obvious to me what I'm doing. I'm waiting for the potion to cool down while I help you warm up."

His mouth descended on her white throat sucking lusciously at the very spot where the erratic beating of her heart could be felt as his left hand reached between her legs to search for her folds with his long fingers; when he found them, he slowly slid his index and middle fingers inside her, exerting pressure on her clitoris with his thumb. Her left leg raised shamelessly to give his hand better access, and the thin lips of the Heir of Slytherin curved victoriously upwards as they continued to playfully nibble the hollow of her neck.

As Ominis thrust his fingers inside her, setting a slow, steady rhythm, Anne began to whimper softly. A sound that was desperate yet restrained at the same time, as if she was ashamed to be lying naked on her potion station resting her hands between burnt candles and tufts of dried herbs while Ominis was bending over her to bite her neck - his left hand possessively tucked between her legs as he fingered her with the same focused expression he had when he applied himself to a task in the Potions Classroom.

And indeed Ominis was highly focused, every movement of his expert fingers calculated to bring Anne to orgasm. It wasn't just a matter of making her feel good, he had to prepare her for penetration because it had always been difficult for him to make love to her without hurting her: she was quite thin and he was bigger than average, a rather simple equation that could lead to unpleasant results if intercourse was performed without thinking straight.

And so he struggled to ignore his painful erection to focus entirely on her, paying attention to every moan, every gasp until his male pride was inflated by the strangled cry that climbed up her throat as her tight cunt clenched around his fingers - wet and swollen, finally ready to be taken by him.

While the fair ginger put a hand to her mouth in order to muffle her whimpering as she enjoyed the last of her orgasm, Ominis pulled down his breeches with his right hand while he let his left wander tentatively in search of the cauldron he had been working at just before. In his eagerness, he almost tipped over his potion when his hand finally closed around the ladle from which he took a long sip of red slop.

A moment later he was placing his left knee on the table to stand behind Anne as he continued to support his weight on his right hand and leg.

She pulled herself up onto her elbows again, parting her quivering lips to ask Ominis to continue making love in a more comfortable place, but he could wait no longer and was already rubbing the head of his cock against her folds to mix his precum with her fluids and further lubricate her entrance. Anne instinctively arched her back, jerking her head as incoherent words veiled with lust slipped past her lips. Her desperate vocalisations spurred Ominis who effortlessly lifted her left leg, resting his hand in the crook of her knee and then thrusting himself hard inside her.

Taking her like that felt divine to him. The Heir of Slytherin felt as if he were entering through the gates of Heaven as his cock slid into her tight cunt, slowly but surely until his rough blond pubic hair rubbed against her soft bottom.

Lying on her side on a work table with Ominis practically standing up behind her, Anne had never felt so submissive to him, and that delicious sense of surrender she felt every time she gave him control began to burn fiercely in her belly.

She wanted to be conquered, owned by Ominis. And he, without the need for this to be made explicit, was perfectly aware of that.

And that delicate, submissive side of her character fed his possessive, dominant side, bringing them together in the physical act of love like two puzzle pieces that complete each other.

He began thrusting deep inside her, grunting animalistically as he tried to ignore the way his balls tightened with each bump of his groin against her supple bottom.

She continued to moan and brace herself on her elbows, helpless - her back sensually arched as she could do nothing but receive, take Ominis' cock and indulge him until he would reach his glorious orgasm.

Yet she was the one who came first: focusing on the sensation of being constricted having Ominis forcibly keep her legs spread as he thrust into her with as much strength as standing up allowed him to use, momentarily blurred her vision as her cunt clenched hard around his cock.

There was a velvety laugh followed by a satisfied grunt as Ominis slowed his movements to make it pleasant for her to ride out her orgasm till the end.

"You are shameless, Anne." He told her, giving her a playful slap on the arse as he pulled out of her.

She struggled to sit up, smiling embarrassedly.

"Come here, my love. Hold on to me." He murmured, smiling in turn, considerate and caring as he helped her turn towards him so that she could wrap her arms around his neck.

When Anne had clung firmly to his shoulders, Ominis lifted her up again and turned to sit on the table of the potion station, helping her to position herself straddling him. She moved her hands to entwine her fingers in his soft blond hair, still neat despite the erotic feats he had just performed. His cock was still proudly erect between his legs, and the lovely ginger was struck by a new surge of passion when she felt it rest against her crotch.

"Do you want to continue?" He asked in confirmation as he let his hands slide down her hips to invite her to sit on his erection.

"Yes." She barely managed to answer, trembling slightly as she welcomed the Heir of Slytherin back inside her womb.

"Then pleasure me, witty girl." He whispered in her ear, letting his hands gently show her how he wanted her hips to move.

Anne did her best to follow the rhythm Ominis was trying to set, but every time she rolled her hips and thrust her groin against his, she was shaken by a thrill of pure ecstasy that seemed to set fire to the blood in her veins; in that position his length felt even more intrusive, and her movements were jerky and not fluid at all.

Yet he smiled contentedly and sought her lips to give her sweet, loving kisses, seemingly not at all fazed by the clumsy way she moved. That made her blush and at the same time it gave her the resolve to redouble her efforts.

She began to increase the pace of her movements, forcing herself to keep going even when she felt like she was being overwhelmed by the intense pressure building in her belly. Without realising it, she was moaning louder than before, and when Ominis' lips left her mouth to find her breasts, she distinctly felt tears forming in her expressive dark eyes from the sheer force of those sensations she was feeling. Then she felt the pressure about to burst within her womb again, and with it the crushing embarrassment at having pleasured herself on Ominis' cock instead of being able to make him cum.

She tried to stop herself, mumbling nonsensical apologies in utter panic, but he tightened his grip on her hips with renewed ardour.

"Don't stop. Don't stop, love - come for me again. You are such a good girl, Anne." He told her, bringing his lips to her ear once more.

Hoarse words that turned into a feral grunt when he felt her trembling in his arms as her cunt spasmed frantically around him.

"I - I love you, Ominis!" She stammered, clinging to his shoulders.

And another strangled cry was heard in the Room of Requirement while Ominis hid his face in the crook of Anne's neck as he spilled himself inside her.

There was a moment of silence in which only their panting breaths could be heard, mingling together as they sought each other's mouths locked in an embrace as strong as the coils of a serpent. They remained like that for several minutes: naked, happy, without needing to fill the silence with words.

It was as naturally that they got up when their legs began to tingle from being in the same position for too long, and it was just as naturally that they lay down on the Victorian chaise longue on the other side of Anne's private library to eat the dinner Deek had cooked for them - as naked as the day they were born.

When it was time to lie down in bed, Ominis took her in his arms as if it were their wedding night and asked her to guide him upstairs. It was after several minutes and after several head-butts Anne took on the way up the spiral staircase that they jumped into their double bed, laughing like children as they hugged each other tightly - Samuel Smith forgotten, as was the rest of the world.

When the Gothic wrought-iron wall clock that hung above Anne's bedside table in the Room of Requirement chimed eight o'clock in the morning, the Keeper cursed Merlin and all of Cylidd through gritted teeth.

In her class schedule for the first term there were no academic engagements on Wednesdays. If it had been an ordinary day, she could easily have stayed in bed late because classes were only scheduled in the afternoon - three hours of Transfiguration, to be precise. Yet she had to head straight to the Transfiguration Classroom by eight thirty in the morning so that she and Professor Weasley could schedule the tutoring hours she had offered to teach Anne Sallow and her wicked older brother before the Deputy Headmistress had to start her classes at nine o'clock.

She had not yet managed to wake up and open her eyes to face a new day, and Anne's rosy lips were already distorting into a disgusted grimace at the thought of what lay ahead. However, it was enough for her to realise that she was clasped in Ominis' arms to immediately feel like smiling again.

He was lying on his back and she had been sleeping on top of him all night, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him close as she rested her forehead against his jaw.

Ominis did not seem bothered by the way he bore the weight of her body as he slept, on the contrary he seemed to be resting blissfully precisely because he could feel Anne's breasts pressed to his chest and her crotch resting on his morning erection as he lay keeping one hand tucked behind his head and the other possessively clutching her arse.

Anne took a moment to admire the handsome features of her beloved. She tenderly kissed and caressed every inch of his skin as a way of saying good morning to him while she summoned all her good will to find the strength to get out of bed and hurriedly get ready to join Professor Weasley.

Ominis' blond eyebrows barely furrowed when he felt her body shift as if she was trying to move away from him, and without opening his eyes, he brought both hands to her back searching for her mouth with his.

"My love, I must go! Professor Weasley is waiting for me to arrange the tutoring I was telling you about yesterday." She told him with a smile on her lips that was part sad at the prospect of what awaited her and part amused at his morning laziness.

"Stay with me." He mumbled, continuing to keep his eyes closed as he kissed her neck with sloppy movements.

"That's not Ominis Gaunt talking, that's his cock." Anne pointed out as she giggled and blushed at the insistence with which Ominis had begun to hump her crotch so as to blindly try and nestle his erection within her folds.

"Let it talk, love. It has a right to speak its mind." Was the slurred reply from the lad lying half-asleep beneath her.

"Ominis! I must go, my love! The Deputy Headmistress is waiting for me!" She said without stopping giggling and blushing as she slipped out of his grasp and got out of bed with an agile leap.

He grunted, half asleep and obviously disappointed as he groped for the pillow behind his head to lay it on his face.

Anne did her best to get ready for the day without wasting time; she brushed her hairs with care, deciding that they were still clean enough to be worn loose despite the assorted physical exertions she had engaged in the previous day. She cast one last quick glance at her wall clock to make sure she was still on time, and she cursed Merlin and the whole Round Table yet again, noting that she didn't have time to eat breakfast.

"See you later, my love! I've got to run, I'm already late and-" As she bid goodbye to the sleeping lad in her bed, the lovely ginger was cut off by the whooshing sound typical of apparition, and she almost had a heart attack realising that before her sweet dark eyes comically wide with surprise, Scrope had appeared.

"Greetings, young Heir." Said the house-elf bowing towards the unmade bed where Ominis was still sleeping. "And greetings to Miss Smith as well, the most beautiful Slytherin maiden and future pride of House Gaunt."

"Scrope, good to see you! I am running awfully late now - I have to run! We'll talk another time. ...By the way, what are you doing here?"

"Master sent Scrope to fetch the young Heir. Scrope imagined he would find him here with his future Lady."

Scrope held a letter in his hand that bore the seal of House Black and he seemed strangely formal and nervous, almost worried.

Anne was used to receiving special treatment from the butler of Headmaster Black and seeing him so serious instinctively put her on edge.

Ominis wasn't showing any indication that he was alive and was still sprawled on the bed with his face covered by the pillow; she cast a quick glance towards him then back at the letter in Scrope's hand before deciding that she didn't have enough time to further investigate the situation.

"Headmaster Black summoned Ominis?"

The house-elf hesitated, holding his breath as if he wanted to say something important to his dear Miss Smith but didn't know where to begin.

"Yes." He finally said, turning back to the bed where Ominis lay. "The young Heir is expected in Master's study. It would be good for the young Lord to get ready at once."

The Heir of Slytherin grunted in annoyance and aggravation without taking the pillow off his face, and his sweet Lady-to-be put a hand to her mouth to suppress her laughter before waving goodbye to Scrope and descending the spiral staircase of her lofty bedroom to hurry out of the Room of Requirement.

The fair ginger performed a ridiculous, mad dash from the Astronomy Tower to the Transfiguration Courtyard, dodging students left and right along the castle halls. When she arrived in front of the heavy oak door of the Transfiguration Classroom it was half past eight on the dot, and after she had summoned all her self-control to stretch her soft lips into a polite smile, she crossed the threshold and entered the empty room with a determined stride.

"Good morning, Professor Weasley. Here I am, as agreed."

"Miss Smith!"

Anne's attention was focused on the Deputy Headmistress sitting at the desk at the back of the classroom so intently, that as she walked towards her, she hadn't even noticed her faithful elf friend standing to the right with an assortment of scroll documents in his hand that seemed to be rather tedious. Deek was shifting his weight from one foot to the other and his puny, rag-covered body was trembling with excitement as if he couldn't wait to run across the room to embrace the Slytherin girl, but upon casting a quick glance at the Deputy Headmistress he cleared his throat and returned to the task at hand without giving his human friend any more attention.

"Good morning, Miss Smith! Oh - I notice you're not carrying a satchel with you. You didn't bring the Field Guide? I was hoping we could start tutoring Miss Anne Sallow and Mr Samuel Smith this very morning."

"Ah, I didn't have it with me. It's in my dormitory and I didn't sleep there tonight. No problem though - I can always descend into the dungeon and get it."

The old lioness was silent for a moment as she arranged an unruly lock of auburn hair in her loose bun with the frowning expression of someone who doesn't quite know how to put into words what’s on their mind.

"As much as you will never be denied access to the Room of Requirement, given the ‘unofficial role’ of Keeper you hold and which the entire faculty acknowledges, I ask you to be discreet and spend more time in your common room, Miss Smith. It is important to socialise with your peers at this age - you will have plenty of time to socialise with Mr Gaunt in your life together. But we already touched on this subject last year, I won't go back over it! It was just a veiled warning, shall we say!" Professor Weasley smiled sincerely at the Slytherin girl standing in front of her desk. "After all, despite the high esteem and appreciation I have for you, I am still your teacher! I must lecture you from time to time, Miss Smith."

"Of course, I understand." Anne arched her eyebrows in a way that hinted at slight irritation, fixing her deep dark eyes in those of the Deputy Headmistress as she felt a rising anxiety mount within her. "About the tutoring I'll have to deal with - I guess you wanted to discuss it with me to give me advice on how to proceed, since I've never dealt with anything like that before."

"That's right. I would say that, in this case, the best way to proceed is - to use an expression - strike while the iron is hot!"

Anne snorted, striving to appear detached while trying to ignore the painful twinge she felt in her heart at the thought of having to come face to face with her brother again within moments.

"That is to say, Professor?"

"That is to say, as the different classes progress, you will quiz Mr Samuel Smith to make sure there are no gaps in his knowledge of what is taught at Hogwarts during the sixth year which he attended at another institute. That way you'll get a good review from lecture to lecture as well!"

"And as for the other student I am to tutor?"

Professor Weasley stretched her wrinkled lips into an amused smile as if she thought the Keeper's question was stupid.

"Same thing but in reverse! You'll make sure from lecture to lecture that you fill in the blanks, so to speak, where Miss Anne Sallow struggles to comprehend new topics due to the gaps she will surely have on the fifth year syllabus."

"Very well, then. You want the first session of our study group to take place today, if I understand correctly."

"Precisely. One must strike while the iron is hot! Ehe! I checked your schedules - none of you have classes this morning. It seems an ideal time to be in the Library studying."

Anne felt her stomach tighten in a violent spasm; she gently placed both hands on the front of her white shirt to cup her flat belly, telling herself in her head that she was hungry from skipping breakfast, even though she knew full well that it had been a genuine gag reflex at the mere imagining of sitting next to her brother in the Library.

"Ideal. Ideal indeed." She said without managing to hide the chill in her voice.

"Is something wrong, Miss Smith? You seem very nervous, child."

Anne opened her mouth without being able to utter a sound, momentarily lowering her guard and letting her fragile, anxious state of mind shine through. For a moment she considered confiding in Professor Weasley. After all, she knew her family: there was no mystery as to how fucked up the Smiths were - it was plain for all to see how far from Helga Hufflepuff her descendants had strayed over the centuries, embracing revolting ideals about blood status while getting used to living in the most lavish opulence. Probably Professor Weasley, who was a witch as clever as she was empathetic, already imagined how difficult it might have been for her to grow up as a squib in a family of high lineage such as hers.

Why not tell her about the abuse she had suffered during her childhood and how uncomfortable it made her feel to be around her older brother?

Anne closed her mouth, stubbornly wearing a mask of indifference - the same mask she had worn so many times since she had accepted her fate upon descending into the Map Chamber with Professor Fig.

The façade of the lone protector, that of the Keeper.

A senseless shame, an ill sense of decency took hold of her, preventing her from laying bare her frailties to the old lioness - preventing her from asking for help.

She took care of herself. She was Slytherin.

"I only confide in Ominis." She thought proudly without noticing how ironic it was that the Heir of Slytherin had always been the only person on the face of Earth who could see her without actually being able to lay his eyes on her.

"Miss Smith? Is everything all right?" The Deputy Headmistress asked again, sounding genuinely concerned.

"No worries, Professor. I'm just a little groggy from not having breakfast, but no need to worry: I'm ready to get started with tutoring."

"Excellent! I will notify the students to be tutored right away."

Professor Weasley picked up her wand, which was resting in front of her on the desk, and with an elegant flick of her wrist she conjured up two scrolls and a quill, which began to swiftly write first on one slip of parchment and then on the other before the two letters folded in on themselves and fluttered out of the classroom like little paper birds.

Anne curtsied to the Deputy Headmistress, making an effort to respect etiquette, then turned and exited the Transfiguration Classroom just as a flood of excited first-year students entered to take their places at their desks. After closing the oak door behind her, the Troll Slayer leaned against it and sighed heavily, running her hands through her long ginger hair. Then she drew Salazar Slytherin's wand from the pocket of her long skirt to write an enchanted note in turn and let Ominis know where he could come to find her after the tedious chat with Headmaster Black was over.

"I would rather start with History of Magic since it's such a tedious subject. The sooner I catch up on that class, the sooner I can get down to the ones I like best!" Anne Sallow said cheerfully.

She held the Field Guide in her hands, eagerly flipping through it without being able to tear her sweet dark eyes away from those colourful pages that seemed to contain infinite knowledge. She was sitting with her back straight and her legs crossed on one of the comfortable green armchairs placed in a circle around the elegant table positioned right in the centre of the Library's ground floor. To her right sat Anne Smith, almost lying back in her armchair, sprawled in a position that was anything but elegant and ladylike as she stared sulkily into the void.

The lovely ginger had chosen to occupy the most exposed and least secluded table in the entire Library, the one that was most comfortable and most informal - it almost looked like a table more suited to five o'clock tea than a study session.

It had been ten minutes by now that the Slytherin girls had been waiting for Samuel Smith to begin the day's tutoring, and the Keeper did nothing but sigh as she lost herself in thought; she had to make a great effort to return to the present moment and answer her friend.

"That's fine with me. Since History of Wandlore is a topic that doesn't directly tie into the timeline of Wizarding World history, I'd say you can study the Goblin Rebellion of 1752 on your own today while I make sure the idiot - ah, my - I mean, Samuel! I will make sure that the teachings on Wandlore at Durmstrang were comprehensive."

She drew her wand from her Slytherin robes and tapped the Field Guide, which in response began to independently and rapidly turn its pages until it opened at one exact juncture, projecting three-dimensional images of what appeared to be a fierce battle between goblins and wizards. Given the tension that was eating away at the Troll Slayer from the inside, her gesture and manner of speech were vaguely aggressive, and Anne Sallow, who until a moment before had smiled happily at the idea of having finally returned to her studies after a whole year spent suffering in bed, turned to her friend with an air of surprise and concern.

"Something wrong, Anne?"

"Oh, no! No, no, forgive me, I'm just distracted!" The Keeper hastened to reply. "By the way, thank you for bringing these back to our dormitory yesterday." She said touching the right sleeve of her Slytherin robes, bringing up the first topic she could think of to shift their attention to something other than her state of mind.

"No problem!"

Anne Sallow shifted her gaze to the enchanted tome in her hands, then turned back to her friend, tormenting her soft lips with her teeth, unable to suppress the desire of her unrequited love-sick heart to give voice to her curiosity.

"Yesterday you and Ominis rushed off in all haste... He was so gallant to duel in your place! Afterwards you retired to your private chambers?"

"Ah, yes. One day I will show you the Room of Requirement too. We must be very careful though because Professor Weasley is breathing down my neck - she wants me to use my private chambers dutifully."

The fair ginger leaned back against the cushioned back of her armchair, hugging herself as if she felt cold or scared of something. Anne Sallow glanced at her thinking that she suddenly looked thinner and paler than usual. She lowered her gaze, sadly thinking that she had made her uncomfortable with her questions about Ominis, and she felt compelled to say something. Gently, she leaned over the armrest of her chair and held out a hand to her, smiling when she saw her friend cast an absent-minded glance at it and then return the gesture without hesitation.

"Anne, thank you for agreeing to tutor me. Our teachers don't know the trouble they've gotten into pairing us up - we're going to turn this study group into shambles and have so much fun! Aha!"

Still holding hands, the Slytherin girls looked into each other's eyes and began to giggle, the sound of their laughter echoing through the deserted Library and causing Madam Scribner's tongue to click in reproach.

"I'm very glad to be doing this together with you too, Anne. Too bad my brother will be in the way."

The pythonesses pulled themselves together and sat down composedly in their armchairs.

Anne Sallow rested the Field Guide on her lap and brushed her fringes of chestnut hair out of her eyes as she began to raptly follow the events of the Goblin Rebellion of 1752 unfolding in miniature before her.

"Smith is late, isn't he?" She asked absentmindedly.

"Honestly? I'd have been surprised if he was on time. Fuck him, anyway. If he's not coming, that's for the best."

"Anne, forgive me if I take the liberty, but - well, I know you're very secretive. You have told me very little about your family, and the things you did share with me are truly sad. You never mentioned your brother to me... But you didn't seem very happy to see him yesterday."

Piercing dark eyes fixed themselves on Anne Sallow's face intent on absorbing the Field Guide's lesson when the Troll Slayer laid her gaze upon her, choosing her next words carefully. She opted for a curt reply, as it did not seem appropriate to further charge the situation with stress.

"My brother is the most stupid and insensitive person I know."

"I'm sorry you two don't get along. I'm very lucky in that regard - Sebastian and I have always loved each other very much. However, we went through some horrible things last year and our relationship had deteriorated to the point where we were almost strangers to each other." Anne Sallow stopped watching the interactive lesson of the Field Guide to rest a hand on her heart as she relived for a moment the darkest hours of Sebastian's depression. "I thought our relationship was doomed. Instead, when I looked into my brother's soul and shed light on certain events, my heart welcomed him back with love I did not think to still feel at all." She leaned back over the armrest of her armchair once more. "This is to say that, perhaps, there is hope for you to find a brother, too."

Anne Smith firmly shook her head.

"We are talking about completely different situations and people. Not -"

"Good morning, sister. Forgive my tardiness." Samuel Smith was silently approaching their table, smiling coolly.

He placed his leather satchel on the vacant chair next to his sister, then, without stopping smiling, turned to Anne Sallow and bowed deeply to her, clicking his heels and keeping his back straight like a proper student from Durmstrang.

The young lady blushed slightly - her eyes rested on the soft, smiling lips of the Hufflepuff boy, and when she realised they were lingering there longer than they should, she quickly lowered her head back to the Field Guide.

"P-pleased to meet you. My - my name is Anne Sallow and I'm a friend of - well, Anne's." She muttered awkwardly without looking up from her interactive lecture.

"Before you make silly remarks about this, Samuel - yes, we bear the same name." Anne Smith said sourly, suddenly sitting stiffly in her chair and intertwining her hands on the table in front of her.

She stared fixedly at an indefinite point to her left, avoiding looking at her brother with the same disdain as a nobleman trying to ignore a commoner as they pass them on the street, desperately trying to hide her distress behind a mask of indifferent annoyance.

"Why would I make silly remarks about something like that? I'm not five years old anymore." Samuel replied with a shrug and a perfectly neutral expression painted on his face as he sat down next to his sister.

She rolled up the sleeves of her uniform, exposing her thin forearms as if preparing to slap her brother in the face rather than question him about Wandlore. She then picked up Salazar Slytherin's wand again and pointed it at the Field Guide, twirling her wrist with nonchalance. Without Anne Sallow's interactive lesson being interrupted, a score of yellowed pages gently peeled away from the enchanted tome to rest in the hands of Anne Smith, who made another elegant wand gesture and stood watching intently as the pages of the Field Guide swirled in the air in front of her, merging into a single sheet on which a series of written questions were quickly forming.

"I'm having the Field Guide generate a test on the History of Wandlore to make sure your education is aligned with Hogwarts standards." Said the Troll Slayer through clenched teeth, casting a fleeting glance at her brother.

"All right. There should be no problem - Wandlore is taught with great care at Durmstrang, in fact I would say my education should be well above Hogwarts standard." He replied matter-of-factly as his usual barely-there smile curved the corners of his mouth up wards.

He took the sheet that his sister was handing him and diligently set about the assignment that the Field Guide had generated while Anne Sallow continued to study her lesson.

Silence fell.

Anne Smith sat a little more comfortably in her chair, straining to focus her attention on her friend - helping her from time to time to learn how to use the more advanced features of the enchanted encyclopaedia.

The huge clock on the Library wall marked ten to eleven when Samuel placed his quill on the table running a hand through his soft ginger hair.

"Well, I'd say that's it. Lastly, the test recommends an exercise: to examine a wand and identify its components." He said turning to his sister. "May I?" He then asked, reaching towards her wand resting on the table.

Anne Smith swiftly grasped Salazar Slytherin's wand - her pale hand closed jealously around the snakeskin hilt mounted on the ebony spiral as she made it disappear into the left pocket of her robes.

"Anne, can you show him your wand? Join in the exercise, so we can do a little practice as well in preparation for the upcoming lecture by Professor Binns." She asked with ostentatious nonchalance, turning towards her friend.

"Oh, certainly. Here you go."

Anne Sallow handed her wand to Samuel, propping it neatly on the palms of her hands. Samuel brought his hands closer to hers, gently brushing them with his fingers as he leaned over the table to get a better look.

"Hmm, a dark, lumpy wood - pliant flexibility, I'd say. Vine Wood, by any chance?"

Anne Sallow took a while to answer, momentarily distracted by the hands of the Hufflepuff boy wrapping around her smaller ones - barely brushing against hers. She seemed to be hypnotised such was the focus reflected in her sweet dark eyes as she watched their hands joined together, and when she found the strength to look away and stare into the eyes of the lad, she blushed blatantly.

"Y-yes, that's right! Unicorn's hair core - ten and a half inches!"

Samuel smirked, holding the gaze of the bashful young lady on the other side of the table.

"I should have been the one to try and figure that out." He said, slowly retracting his hands.

"Oh! Sorry! I got caught up in - Oh, forgive me!"

"That's quite alright, Miss Sallow. ...Or may I call you, Anne?"

Anne Smith pretended not to mind what was going on, but she noticed the way her friend continued to flush as she lowered her gaze to the floor, clutching her wand against her chest with a shuddering sigh while nodding softly. She also noticed the way the attractive lips of her brother had stretched into a smug smile as soon as her friend had begun to stutter - the expression on his face was the typical, arrogant one of a bloke who is aware that he has caught the eye of a girl.

"Stop this shite immediately. Say something, whatever bollocks, Anne!" Thought Anne Smith as her mouth opened to voice the first bollocks her brain had managed to conjure up in the meantime. "Ominis' wand also has unicorn hair at its core!"

Anne Sallow turned to her friend, nodding, cheerfully this time.

"And Sebastian's wand has a core of Thestral hair - powerful wand, your brother's, aye. Cypress wood, most flexible." Continued the Keeper without the slightest idea of what she was about to say next.

Samuel seemed about to speak again, but his sister went on, nervously drumming her fingers on the table.

"Don't you find it funny, Anne? Ominis and Sebastian - the unicorn and the Thestral. Both equines, aren't they? And yet so different, just like the two of them. They're such an odd couple, hehe!"

Anne Sallow laughed and leaned forward over the armrest of her armchair once more to move closer to her friend - her Slytherin robes opened slightly at the front and Samuel's eyes discreetly flicked to her chest with the focus typical of a lad trying to assess the likeness of a girl's breasts.

"I never noticed that, you know? You're right, it's actually quite funny, Anne!" She exclaimed cheerfully. "My brother's wand is very unusual, yes. But Ominis' is - is something special just like him! He -"

Samuel's expression suddenly became quizzical as he turned to look at the dreamy expression on Anne Sallow's face.

A moment later he was pulling his wand out of his Hufflepuff robes to hand it to the young lady in front of him, holding it with nonchalance in the palm of his right hand.

"Why don't you try examining mine?" He asked, smiling. "You can hold it in your hands if you'd like to." He added as if it were nothing.

But offering one's wand to another wizard or witch was an extremely intimate and meaningful gesture in the Wizarding World.

And Anne Smith knew it well.

So did Anne Sallow, who blushed and giggled embarrassedly as she barely touched Samuel's wand with her fingers without having the courage to pick it up.

"Hmm, this black, elegant wood is instantly recognisable. Ebony, no?"

He nodded and subtly moved his hand to brush hers with his fingers.

"Ebony. A wood that is exceedingly suitable for all forms of combative magic and for Transfiguration as well - which are Durmstrang's specialities. My wand made it very easy for me to settle there, believe it or not. What else can you tell me about it?"

"I - I would say it’s fourteen inches with unbending flexibility. And the way you duelled yesterday - I'd say the core could be dragon heartstrings?"

"Oh, you saw me duelling yesterday? Ah, if I had known you were watching me, I would have fought harder to win."

"Too bad Ominis slaughtered you. " The Keeper coldly interjected.

Samuel merely shrugged and put his wand away. Then his gaze fell on the hands of his sister, which clung so tightly to the table that her knuckles seemed about to snap at any moment.

"Your betrothed fights well, sister. As do all the members of his family after all. I would gladly challenge him to a duel again." He gestured towards her left hand. "I see you already wear an engagement ring - bearing the seal of his House, no less. Who would have thought my little sister would become a Gaunt? I certainly didn't."

Anne Smith removed her hands from the table to hysterically run them through her long ginger hair before tucking them into the pockets of her Slytherin robes.

"Speaking of duels, anyway." Samuel urged. "I see you have an ebony wand too - an elegant sixteen inch spiral. Remarkable. Dragon heartstrings?"

The Basilisk horn in the core of the ebony spiral hissed menacingly and indignantly as if insulted, and it vibrated ominously against the palm of Anne's hand inside her pocket.

"Looking at it, it feels like a most special wand. And since it's suited for combative magic, you really have no excuse to back out next time we're in Crossed Wands arena."

The lovely ginger was about to snap forward and scream in her brother's face that she would make him crawl like a worm if she ever faced him in a duel, but just then, the Library's front doors opened to let through a stream of students ready to get down to their studies after finishing their morning classes. Among them, Ominis was making his way through the crowd to advance towards the centre of the Library - the faithful chestnut stalk was pointed straight ahead to guide him to Anne.

"Oh, good. They'll be serving lunch in Great Hall shortly. I'm retiring to the Hufflepuff cellars to freshen up first. Good day, ladies - it's been a pleasure." Samuel said standing up. "Let me know when we are to meet again, sister." He told her before turning to Anne Sallow and bowing in the same gallant way he had greeted her when he arrived.

He walked away from the table offering a respectful nod to Ominis, who was marching in the opposite direction.

The Heir of Slytherin wore a most serious, sullen expression, and his betrothed immediately realised that something was wrong, forgetting everything else in the world for an instant to focus her attention entirely on him.

"Hello, Ominis! You got here just in time! Shall we pop into the common room before lunch?" Anne Sallow asked cheerfully.

"I would like to have a word with Anne in private, my friend. Go ahead in the meantime." The blind serpent replied in a seemingly calm tone of voice.

"Oh, all right. Do you want me to get your satchel, Anne? I have to pop up to our dormitory anyway."

Anne Smith nodded gratefully at her friend and made a hand gesture to bid her goodbye - panic and anxiety reflected in equal measure in her expressive dark eyes as she wondered in horror why her beloved Ominis was so serious. She remained sitting in her chair while the Heir of Slytherin took a seat next to her in the one that had been occupied until a few moments before by her hated brother.

"My love, what's wrong?" She asked leaning towards him. ''Did Headmaster Black overwhelm you with his usual repertoire of racist lines about blood purity?" She added to lighten the mood.

Ominis leaned towards her in turn, groping for her hands to intertwine his fingers with hers.

"I don't want to upset you, Anne. But I need you to listen to me carefully because we have a most unpleasant engagement ahead of us and we must be prepared."

"All right. I am listening, my love."

Ominis took a few moments to calm his breathing before continuing to speak. On the one hand he was sure he had the situation under control, but on the other he knew that what he was about to say would upset Anne terribly. So he took the time he needed to be certain he could speak calmly and sound reassuring, choosing his words carefully as his hands lovingly held hers.

"My love, this morning's was not one of the usual social calls where Headmaster Black smothers me with special attention out of respect for my father. He called for me today to warn me of a most unusual visit."

"Warn you? Unusual?"

"Yes, warn me. Headmaster Black is on our side, my love. In this instance, that imbecile will be of use to us."

Anne's rosy lips opened and closed a few times without her being able to formulate her questions.

"Forgive me, my love, I do not understand. He is on our side for what? What did he warn you about?"

Ominis felt a cold sweat pour down his neck, wetting the collar of his shirt.

"He warned me about a most peculiar request my father made - he joined us mid-morning in the Headmaster's study."

"Your father is here?!"

"Yes, my love. Father is here. And we are both invited to join them for lunch."

Anne began crossing and uncrossing her slender legs in a nervous, hysterical gesture as her shoulders sagged downwards. Then she straightened her back and smiled, speaking in a soft tone of voice.

"Come now, my love. Don't worry. You always tell me that I have to learn to live with our high standing and cope with the fact that we will sometimes find ourselves in this kind of unpleasant predicament. I'm sure we'll survive a formal lunch with your father and Headmaster Black, even if they'll make our ears bleed with their fucking ramblings."

"Anne, Father will not be alone."

Anne cocked her head to the side quizzically.

"Did your mother accompany him?"

Ominis leaned down to gently kiss the hands of his witty girl, then spoke in a velvety whisper that he hoped sounded reassuring despite the dreadful words he was about to utter.

"Marvolo is here."