Hopeless | Ominis Gaunt x Reader

21

Something about the absolutely refined way he held himself did something to you — his shoulders broad and postured, his features aristocratic and reserved. There wasn't a hair out of place in that elegant style of his, and you nearly let out an audible gasp as you saw the rings adorning his slender fingers when he took your hand in his and placed a demure kiss to your knuckles.

He wasn't just attractive, he was out right provocative in his formal attire — in an utterly infatuating, weak-in-the-knees, have-you-a-fainting-chaise? sort of way. If you weren't surrounded by teachers and other students you'd grab him by those pristinely-pressed lapels and snog him senseless on the spot.

"Shall we?" Ominis held out his arm for you to take, and you eagerly complied, tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow.

"Ever the gentleman." You teased as he led you towards the main gala where most of the other students were collected.

"What would a man be without his manners?" He replied.

"The way you're dressed, I might just lose all of my manners."

He raised his eyebrows at you, though dedicated to playing the role of a cavalier tonight, he bit his tongue at indulging your enticements, giving you a coy smile instead as he led you onto the dance floor.

The Great Hall was dressed to the nines in festive adornments — a white and silver spectacular of dazzling ice sculptures, glittering garlands of tinsel and holly, and snowflakes that rained from the enchanted ceiling that were charmed to not be cold to the touch.

"God, it's beautiful." You commented breathlessly.

"Couldn't possibly compare to you." He informed with a smirk as he situated the both of you in front of a musical ensemble that was starting on the build-up of a lively waltz symphony.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help grin. "How would you—"

"Oh, how would I know?" He interjected, already expecting your little retort. "Thankfully, Garreth was ever so gracious in providing me with a description all about your mesmerizing hips in that dress." He supplied with a subtle amount of bitterness in his voice as he ran his hands down your sides demonstratively, resting them on your waist. He relished in the soft feel of the silk beneath his fingertips, the little indents of your curves that seemed to have been made specifically to accommodate him. You felt so delicate in his palms and he was certain he would never get used to the feeling.

You turned to peer around the crowd, spotting Garreth chatting up Natsai near the punch table. "And he's still alive?" You narrowed your eyes, surprised to see the ginger not suffering the aftermath of a dozen hexes. "I have to say, I'm proud of you."

"I'm playing nice tonight." He shrugged, though the slight ire in his eyes suggested it would definitely not be the last time the Gryffindor would hear about it. "Like I said, what would a man be without his manners?"

"Oh? And to what do I owe such chivalry?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you see — I've been given this wonderful opportunity to dance with the fairest girl in Hogwarts on my arm all night." He informed as he pulled you flush against him, taking one of your hands in his and letting his other hand rest delicately on the small of your back. "Such opportunities must not be squandered."

"A gentleman and a sweet-talker." Your cheeks warmed at the contact, the suave lilt of his voice, the way he glided you across the dance floor with such ease. If his intentions for the evening were to turn you into a pathetic puddle of infatuation on the parquet floor, he was certainly on the right path. "Pray tell, Mister Gaunt, is there a limit to your artful charms?" You teased, putting as much pompousness as possible into your tone of voice.