The Death Wish: Book One (Hogwarts Legacy)

The Scent of Humour

"Alright. I thought of bergamot and jasmine when you sat down to breakfast."

"That's right!" you exclaimed with wonder. "—and I'm impressed you identified the bergamot and didn't just say 'orange'. That's pretty amazing, Ominis."

He blushed a shade deeper, trying to brush it off—though still looking quite pleased. Sebastian moved to Ominis' other side as you entered the common room.

"See—fun new game." supplied Sebastian with an apologetic tone—trying to smooth his blunder with the blonde. Ominis cast a muted scowl before rolling his eyes with a forgiving smile.

"So Bash, you wanna come watch me fly?" Sebastian asked with a wink, bending around their friend to catch your eye. You shook your head.

"Another time, I'm afraid. I have some reading to catch up on for tomorrow—and a letter to answer." you replied with a significant look, causing the brunette's smile to flicker.

"You are writing to Anne?" he asked lightly.

"It would be bad manners not to answer a letter—especially one as kind and elegant as hers. I actually hope to find a frequent correspondent in your sister—if she is amiable." you admit nervously. Sebastian seemed to brighten at this, nodding with a growing smile.

"I think she would love that. She says the letters she gets from us are the brightest spots in her day—and I know she would like to get to know more about you." he added softly. Ominis nodded in agreement.

"Yes—Anne had expressed similar sentiments to me. She wrote that while she was cross at you, Seb—she admitted being happy to have an excuse to write to our mysterious new Slytherin." Ominis offered with a friendly dip in your direction. You smiled warmly.

As you reached the split between the boys and girls dorms you bid them both luck in their morning endeavours and promised to see them at lunch. The two boys then headed to change for the brisk autumn air while you looked forward to a quiet morning alone in your dorm.

***

You spread out your study materials on the warm ornate rug in front of the cheerfully crackling fireplace in your dorm room, beside you a stack of old Daily Prophets.

The previous evening, Nerida had shown you a simple transfiguration spell to change the old newsprint into fresh, clean parchment. According to her, this was the only reason many people got the Prophet—easier than buying stationary.

You pulled the stack close to you and started shuffling through, delighted by the moving pictures and clever adverts for fantastical products. You leafed through, catching headlines related to elections, crime and sport. You stopped to watch a photo of a Quidditch player making a spectacular save on a black and white pitch. You grinned when you found an issue that had a special insert on Dragons—which you pulled out to read later.

Grabbing the next paper, you stuttered—feeling ice spike your spine as you took in the snarling face of the goblin that haunted your memory. You stared grimly at the image, watching him sneer and throw his head angrily from the paper in your fingers.

You read the article accompanying the photo, detailing how the Ministry was advising the magical community to steer clear of Ranrok and his growing army of loyalists. They encouraged readers to report any unusual activity to an Auror-–though the article took the opportunity to criticise the Ministry by highlighting the lack of Auror-presence in the valley surrounding Hogwarts.

You tried to put the goblin from your mind, setting the article aside to add to your field guide before grabbing another sheet of newsprint, this one covered in adverts for Gillyweed tonic and owl-order beauty potions. You set it down on the rug and carefully recreated the spell Nerida showed you. You smiled as the newsprint twisted and morphed into a clean sheet of cream coloured parchment. You repeated the spell a few times before you had a nice stack of fresh sheets.