#subinis

For Garreth Weasley, it was more a struggle than for most. Since the end of sixth year, when he’d convinced Lucan Brattleby to try his latest potion, and the poor lad had ended up in the Hospital Wing with scales, feathers, and the ability to burp luminous, sausage-like bubbles that took days to pop, the entirety of Gryffindor House had put a blanket ban on accepting so much as a biscuit from him. The other houses learned very quickly after this that no matter how much gold he offered, no matter how many favours, no matter how much he begged, it just wasn’t worth spending a week in hospital for.

But Garreth knew the only way to discover ✨The Perfect Potion™✨ was to practice, practice, practice, and in order to make sure his experiments actually achieved what he thought they should, he needed to test them. He always made sure he had a few poison antidotes on hand just in case, so he wasn’t entirely sure what all the fuss was about.

So it was that Sebastian and Ominis found themselves accosted by the boisterous redhead one early February morning in their seventh year, in the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower.

“Seriously, Sallow, I’ll pay you fifty galleons. Fifty! Think what you could do with that money!”

“Fuck off,” came the terse reply. “I said no eight times already, I’m not going to change my mind.”

“But if I can get this to work ahead of Valentines-”

“Unclog your ears, Weasley, he said no,” Ominis said, using his wand to pour a cup of tea with the cool indifference only a Slytherin pureblood seemed able to master.

Garreth narrowed his eyes. “I’d have thought you’d jump at the chance, Gaunt. Heard your family’s fallen on hard times.”

“It’s no secret,” Ominis said, supremely unbothered. Then, a tiny smirk touched his lips. “That said, I’m surprised you’ve got fifty galleons to offer in your entire family’s account.”

Unlike Ominis, Garreth was just a little bit touchy about his family’s fortunes. He needed to make this potion work ahead of Valentine’s so he could sell it for a huge profit! It would be so popular and he’d be rich and famous and would be able to make sure all his family were comfortable, what was so wrong about that?

Perhaps this was why Garreth decided to do what he did. Maybe he was just in a bad mood and wanted to cause a bit of trouble. Or maybe, just maybe, he was having withdrawals from seeing his potions at work and was determined to do anything to get his creation tested. He pretended to see Peeves causing havoc on the other side of the Tower, and when Sebastian turned to look, he upended the tiny, pink potion into Ominis’ tea.

He shared a grin with Leander, and groped for a notepad as Ominis picked up his cup.

“Alright, fine, suit yourselves. But it would have made an absolute killing, and I’d have given you commission for your help,” he said, trying to be nonchalant.

“Whatever.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I’ve enough to be worrying about without dealing with beetles falling out of my ears, thanks.”

Ominis shook his head and sipped his tea, closing his eyes at the warmth that slid past his lips and down his throat. He let his mind wander a little, and as it always did when he let it have some form of free reign, it landed squarely on the most incredible woman he’d ever known, the Hero of Hogwarts, for whom he had harboured a secret, burning love since their ill-fated trip to the Scriptorium.

A slim line appeared between his brows as the warmth from the tea seemed to settle under his collar, before spreading over his chest, creeping down his torso to pool between his thighs, and something began to stir.

Ominis, like any other man of his age, was no stranger to random bouts of wilful disobedience from his personal basilisk, and so he elected to ignore it, crossing an elegant leg over the other, hoping no one else had noticed. He took a slow breath and another drink, wondering vaguely why this particular standing to attention was coupled with something that felt concerningly like arousal. Yes, thinking of her certainly fired him up him like nothing else did, but he hadn’t been thinking of anything particularly ungentlemanly. He was in public, after all.

His hands tightened on his cup as the unspecified heat began to intensify, his half-mast blooming full, and as he heard Garreth leaning forward in his chair, and the scratch of quill on parchment, he began to put two and two together.

Uh-oh.

“Soooo…” Garreth said, in a voice so overly casual that it sent a thrill of fear through anyone in the vicinity that had recently had a drink. “How are we all feeling today? Normal? Bit hot under the collar? Thinking of anyone in particular?”

Ominis faced him, quite certain that steam might be curling up from under his shirt as his heart began to pound.

“What have you done?” he managed.

Garreth laughed. “Only what I had to. Don’t worry, the effects won’t last more than a few hours. I think.”

There was a clatter as Sebastian lunged across the low table, followed by a smash as the teapot shattered. Garreth yelped as Sebastian gripped handfuls of his robes and wrenched him out of his seat.

“What did you do?” he demanded, snarling.

“I needed to test my potion,” Garreth said, shoving him back. “Just slipped him a bit, that’s all!”

“What the fuck do you mean, you slipped him a bit!?” Sebastian barked. “What the hell is it meant to do?”

“I’m not sure yet, that’s why I needed to test it,” Garreth said, proudly. “It’s only a variant of a love potion that’s meant to make anyone you like want you in bed, nothing to worry about. Gaunt, tell me exactly what you’re feeling, spare no detail.”

“Are you insane?” Ominis hissed, hunching forward as his arousal twitched, nudging insistently against his belt and threatening to pop right out over the top of his waistband. “You better have an antidote for this, you cretin!”

Garreth gulped and edged behind Leander as Sebastian drew his wand, aiming it at his nethers. “Antidote? It’s only in the testing stages, I’ve not had time to-” he yelped as Sebastian fired a curse at him, and Leander had to put out a small fire on his robes.

Ominis felt his cheeks sear as another thrum of unspecified interest surged through him, his mouth drying. There was an insistent, needy ache growing in his lower abdomen, and he got the feeling that if he didn’t take care of it soon, he was going to be in serious trouble. It didn’t help that he could sense his friends staring at him, Garreth’s lack of subtlety and his shortening breath all but confirming the state he was in.

“Undercroft,” he managed to growl to Sebastian out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t follow me.”

“You okay?” Sebastian asked, as Ominis tugged his robes tight about himself and rose.

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered, trying to stand as casually as he could without revealing his significantly growing problem. “Do try not to kill that little bastard while I’m gone, I’d like to do it myself.”

The cool of the Undercroft’s stone walls did little to alleviate the heat in his body as Ominis shouldered his way through the hidden entrance, his pace increasing as he half ran towards a stack of crates at the back, positioned deliberately to hide a pile of cushions and blankets for the rare instances when he just couldn’t ignore his body’s needs. Ominis hissed between his teeth and turned his wand about the Undercroft, hoping that she wasn’t down here. Merlin, he’d never live it down if she saw him like this.

Hell, it was embarrassing enough to be in this predicament, but for his friends to know as well! The thought scalded him, making him cringe. It was worse that they knew why he’d gone off by himself. Yes, everybody did it, but that didn’t mean everyone should bloody know about it when he did! It was hard enough to find alone time as it was, but for anyone else to know… Ominis groaned. With the way gossip spread, the whole bloody castle would know that the infamously stoic Ominis Gaunt had needed to dash off and have a wank by the time he reemerged, if his past luck was anything to go by.

No matter. The state he was in, it wouldn’t take long, and then he could try and forget about the whole, sordid mess. After he’d murdered Garreth, of course.

He sucked a sharp breath between his teeth, bracing a hand against the wall as his mind flooded with thoughts of her, as it always did when he needed to attend to himself. He focused on the faint brush of her hand against the back of his when they studied together, her fingertips cool as she handed him a book or stack of parchment, each light touch sending sparks through his skin that never failed to stiffen his cock. He whimpered softly as he recalled those few times he let her embrace him, his attention always zeroing in on how her ample breasts pressed against his chest, his hands resting just above the curve of her hip. What he wouldn’t give to feel these things without the cursed barrier of her clothes…

And Merlin, the sound of her voice, low and rich, some sultry note always winding about underneath it, as if she was but a moment away from singing or whispering nothing but sinful filth into his ear, her dark chuckles, the freedom of her laughter never failing to set his heart to racing.

Then the scent of her hair… citrus and exotic blossoms from some far off, sun-drenched land infused his mind as he wished and wished he knew what it was like to have those silken strands fall over his face as she rode him.

Ominis fought with his belt and the fastenings of his trousers, unable to stop thinking about her, imagining all those things she could do to him that would only ever be in his mind. She was too good for him, too perfect, too glorious, but it never hurt to imagine. Imagination never hurt anyone. His lower lip found its way between his teeth as he took himself in his hand, instinctively setting up a rapid pace that, when he’d been this worked up before, had brought him blissful relief in little under a minute.

But something was wrong. He could feel his hand sliding along his length, feel the pressure as he tightened his grip, but it brought him about as much relief as sticking it in a jar of numbing potion would have.

“Oh, come on,” Ominis hissed, gripping himself tighter in a vain effort to evoke some of the promised euphoria such an act usually provided him, even going so far as to spit in his palm, but it didn’t work. To his horror, it served only to heighten his need, and brought him no relief.

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

Almost an hour later, Ominis emerged, limping and red-faced, his breathing ragged and his hair dishevelled, his cloak pulled tight about his body.

“Well?” Garreth asked, eagerly, quill and notepad at the ready.

“Piss off,” Ominis snarled. “If you can’t get me an antidote in the next five minutes then what good are you?”

Sebastian shouldered Garreth out of the way and leaned in close.

“No better?”

“Fuck off. I don’t want anyone near me.”

“What about New Girl?” Leander piped up, clearly enjoying himself far more than was appropriate for the Slytherin’s suffering. “Bet you wouldn’t mind her being around you right now.”

Ominis spat a string of violent curses in Parseltongue at the thought of the Hero of Hogwarts assisting him with his predicament once again, before he tried to push away the idea as it sent another painful thrum of arousal through him. Unfortunately, the idea of her didn’t want to be banished and remained stubbornly inside his head, doing things no self-respecting woman would ever do, let alone to him.

“She hasn’t been new for two years,” Sebastian said, placing his foot firmly on Leander’s hip and shoving him away as Ominis clung to the wall, biting his tongue to stop himself groaning. “If you’re not going to help, then sod off.” He gripped Ominis’ shoulder, leaning close, and Ominis wriggled away, hissing as his skin tingled. “Mate, maybe he’s got a point. She’s good at potions, maybe she could do something about this? Plus, you like her, and she likes-”

“Never,” Ominis growled. “She can never hear of this.”

“Okay, then maybe we should get Professor Sharp, he’d be able to-”

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone I will kill you myself!” Ominis snarled.

It was getting decidedly hard to think, and Ominis huddled against the wall, bent almost in two as wave upon wave of rising need threw itself about his insides. If he didn’t do something soon, he was either going to explode or go completely insane. It was all he could do not to grab at himself, despite the fact that he was in public and he knew that it wouldn’t help one bit.

Sebastian shared a worried look with Garreth, whose eagerness to see the effects of his potion in action had worn off upon seeing how decidedly uncomfortable Ominis was. Yeah, it had been kind of funny to see him so embarrassed, but this was a problem. How could he sell his potion if the effects were this drastic, and didn’t wear off quickly?

“Maybe just… I don’t know, try and sleep it off?” Sebastian suggested, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry mate, I don’t know how else to help you.”

“I know a way you can,” Leander laughed, and quickly shut up as both Sebastian and Ominis glared at him, drawing their wands.

“Go up to the Room of Requirement,” Sebastian said, giving Ominis a little shove between the shoulder blades that made him yelp. “Garreth, you go too, there’s potion stations up there, and you better get to work on an antidote, or I’ll hang you off the Astronomy Tower by your balls.”

With a barely restrained whine, Ominis disillusioned himself and all but ran for the stairs, the outline of his figure vanishing as he rounded the bend. Garreth took one look at Sebastian’s murderous expression and followed, jotting notes on his parchment as he went. No sooner had he vanished than Sebastian took off, pelting through the castle, seeking the one person he hoped might be able to put an end to his brother’s suffering.

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

“How long’s he been like this?” she asked, matching Sebastian’s pace as they hurtled towards the Room of Requirement.

“A bit more than an hour or so, I think,” Sebastian panted, struggling to keep up. “It’s really bad.”

She cursed under her breath, her long, dark hair swishing to and fro. “What did Garreth say it was meant to do?”

“Turn people on so they’re easier to get into bed,” Sebastian replied, glowering. “Or words to that effect. He wants to sell it ahead of Valentine’s Day.”

She made a face, her small nose wrinkling. “Creep. As if it wasn’t bad enough having to worry about love potions. Poor Ominis.” They slowed as they reached the seventh-floor corridor, and she glanced at him. “I presume he’s… um… tried the usual methods?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I guess so. Didn’t ask, he’s embarrassed enough. He’s going to kill me when he finds out I’ve told you.”

“Me in particular?” she raised a brow, and Sebastian hesitated. It wasn’t a secret to those who knew him well that Ominis was madly in love with the woman before him, but he hadn’t thought she’d figured it out. His silence seemed to be all the answer she needed, and a little smile touched her lips. “Leave it to me. He’ll be right as rain soon enough.”

“What are you going to-” Sebastian began, but she’d vanished into the Room of Requirement before he could finish. With a low sigh, he crossed his fingers, counted to ten, then followed, finding the large space mostly empty, save for a sweaty Garreth standing before a table of five cauldrons, each of them hissing different coloured steam. His nose was bleeding.

“What happened there?” Sebastian asked, and Garreth glowered.

“That cow just punched me,” he said, thickly. “Didn’t say a damn word and ran off to the bedroom.”

Sebastian grinned. “Can’t say you didn’t deserve it.”

Garreth wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Shut up and help me with these, would you? Whatever she’s planning, I hope it works, because none of these antidotes look promising right now.”

✧˖°  ˖ * ˖  °˖✧

Ominis twisted and writhed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. His clothes lay discarded on the floor of the small room, the light satin sheets of the bed dragging across his fevered skin as he desperately sought some form of relief from the blazing need surging through his body. But no matter how much he rutted against the mattress, no matter how fervently he beat himself, he couldn’t break through the barrier between desperate desire and the enduring numbness that denied him, over and over.

He couldn’t say how much time had passed. He couldn’t say how long he’d been tangled in these sheets, moaning softly as he chased a high that tormented him as it danced away, again and again. His mind was fragmented, consumed by a primal, visceral need for relief, for this aching agony to end, for the heavens to open and just please let him come.

So scattered was he that he barely registered the door opening, the footsteps hushing over the carpet as he gripped handfuls of his hair, curled in a ball on his side. But he heard the sharp intake of breath, smelled that torturously familiar scent that was so deliciously her, and his tormented mind took on a crystal clarity as pure, unadulterated panic flashed through him.

“No, no!” he gasped. “No, not you!”

She pulled up short, her brows drawing together a little as Ominis struggled to pull the fraying threads of his brain back together.

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” he whimpered softly as another agonising pang of need surged through him, intensified by the fact that it was her standing there, and he curled up tighter, his hands tensing in his hair, trying to hide his shamed face as he tried to burrow under the sheets. “I… I don’t want you to see me like this.”

She was concerningly quiet for a moment, then her footsteps sounded once more as she approached, and Ominis bit down on a high-pitched whine as she settled on the bed, her weight pulling the sheets tight against his skin. He fought not to writhe, every nerve ending on fire as he curled up tighter.

“Please… please leave,” he begged. “I-I c-can’t…”

“This needs to be fixed,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “Ominis, you can’t go on like this. I want to help you.”

“Then get me a fucking antidote,” he spat, his limbs trembling as he fought to remain still. He didn’t care that he swore in front of her, something he vowed never to do in front of a lady, he was too concerned with retaining some miniscule shred of dignity. Shame and humiliation burned a torturous path through his body as he bit down on another low whine, his cock throbbing at the thought of her being so close to him, her beautiful scent, her delicious voice sending waves of primal desire through him.

She couldn’t be here. She had to leave, or he was going to do something they would both regret.

It seemed she either couldn’t sense the danger, however, or she didn’t care. She slid closer to him, a cool hand finding his shoulder, such a simple touch making his hair stand on end as he fought with himself not to grab at her. He had to maintain control, no matter how difficult. He was a gentleman, he was proper, he wasn’t one of those base louts that thought with their dicks and followed wherever they pointed, he was… he was…

Fucking hell. He was desperate for her.

Her hand tightened on his shoulder, pushing lightly, and little by little he uncurled enough to reveal his face, his skin flushed, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“You poor thing,” she murmured. “Will you let me help you?”

Her hand slid over his shoulder to his chest, and Ominis bit down on a whine. How often had he tormented himself with fantasies of this exact thing happening? It almost made him want to weep with the frustration of it all, because he knew all too well that nothing would come of this but further humiliation.

“P-please… don’t,” he whimpered as she peeled the sheets back, moving closer to him as she trailed her fingers over his stomach, the muscles contracting at her touch. “It won’t… it won’t d-do anything… I c-can’t feel-”

His next words were cut off by a yelp as the heel of her hand grazed the aching head of his length through the sheets, sending a surge of pleasure so powerful through him that it snapped his head back.

He could feel her touch.

His hands flew out, one latching onto her wrist, the other winding into her hair. She came to him willingly, her lips brushing his hesitantly for a heartbeat before he crushed his mouth to hers, moaning helplessly as she found his aching steel through the sheets, her palm curving around the shape of him.

Ominis launched up, hooking an arm around her neck, his free hand shoving at the covers. There was no longer room for hesitancy or fear or embarrassment – any last shred of lingering dignity had been eviscerated by her kiss.

All Ominis knew is that he needed to be held, to be kissed, to be touched, and to be fucked. Right. Now.

He shoved at the sheets covering him as her lips moved from his to lavish attention on the side of his neck, her hand travelling down his chest sparking through his nerves. A high, desperate whine escaped him when she showed no hesitation and wrapped her hand around his fevered length, the soothing cool of her skin a balm to his burning flesh.

Even through his maddening haze of desperation and need, Ominis was dimly aware of the inexplicable skill she displayed, each swift, twisting stroke of her hand designed by some omniscient power, it seemed, so perfectly did it make his body sing. Her pace was steady, her grip firm but not tight, and his mind went to pieces. In all his furtive, shameful imaginings of being with her at last, he had never once suspected that she would know just how perfectly to treat him.

She murmured gentle encouragement to him, her words a song of sin and fire as her touch sent him ever higher on a glittering ladder that seemed heaven bound. Ominis bucked helplessly against her, his hands alternately clutching and tugging at her clothes, knowing in some deep, primal way that the simple touch of her hand, no matter how glorious, would never be enough.

It seemed she understood this as well, for her lips left his neck, trailing down his body, each press of her lips tensing the muscles they touched. Something in the back of his mind set up a wild protest, the part of him that was still human underneath his frantic desire screaming that he would never live this down, but even this stubborn part of him was silenced when a searing heat enveloped him from head to base, hard at the edges and so deliciously soft in the centre, something long and dexterous winding about his entire length.

The sensation of her mouth on him in such a way pushed a yell that was almost a scream from deep within his lungs, flying up his throat so harshly that it roughed the edges of his voice, his hands flew to her head, winding his fingers into her hair and driving himself as deep as he could. He didn’t care that he might choke her, that he might make her wretch, he just needed more of that sensation, more of this heavenly feeling of pure euphoria.

She didn’t choke, and she didn’t retch. She tightened her lips, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard, her throat closing over the tip of him as he threw his head back, yelping in wordless ecstasy. Her arms wound around his waist as his legs fell apart, anchoring them together as her head bobbed at a steady, rapid pace, and if Ominis had the gift of sight, he would have seen the entire cosmos.

"Fuck... yes..." Ominis gasped. "Right there... don't stop, please don't stop..."

And yet it still wasn’t enough. Though each swipe of her tongue drew a whining moan from his lips like silver thread, the pulsing of her throat in time with his racing heart, his body stubbornly refused to fall over the edge upon which he teetered. Almost rabid, Ominis gripped he hair, pulling her back up to crush his lips to hers, tugging at her clothes so forcefully that her blouse tore.

In response, she pinned his wrists over his head. He had no time to protest this as she straddled him in the next moment, leaning down to capture his lips with hers once more, holding him tight with one hand as the other slid down, grasping him firmly and angling him up.

Ominis could never have imagined the euphoria that he experienced next. One moment, he was aching, spit-slick and cool in the empty air, and the next he was enveloped in searing satin and silken fire. If her mouth had been the cosmos, this was heaven itself. He could barely draw breath to moan as she seated him fully inside her, and even through his primal haze, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t understand it, that he, Ominis Gaunt, was being loved by her.

He thrust up with abandon, garbled pleas and frenzied, worshipful praise flowing from his mouth between urgent kisses, his hands held firmly above his head as she rode him like a graphorn. Her hair swung down, the silken tresses brushing over his face and chest like he’d always dreamed of. He began to feel a delicious, prickling heat pooling at the base of his spine, in the pit of his stomach, his skin tingling as he ran full pelt towards the edge. Something within him knew he needed to savour this, to commit each and every detail to memory as she herself released a soft, breathy moan, but that single sound, the knowledge that came with it being that he was making her feel good was too much for him.

"Fuck... fuck... FUCK! YES! YES!"

The spell was broken, the potion overcome as Ominis’ entire body went taught, his balls drawing up tight as he finally, finally came like a fucking hose. His head snapped back, his moans rising to echoing yelps as his back arched, his hands pinioned above his head as he writhed, the sensation so much more intense than anything he had ever experienced before, going on and on and on until he was certain he might go mad. But end it did, and he fell back, utterly boneless and exhausted, his breath trembling as his body quivered, the warm weight of her comforting as she settled to lie atop him, her lips soothing once more at his neck.

“Are you alright?” she asked, after some small time had passed. Ominis could only mumble non-words, his mind still scattered, his not quite feeling his body as he should now that there was this sudden absence of primal need. Little by little, the last few hours came back to him, and he felt his chest grow tight. Wincing as fresh shame burned a path through him, Ominis turned his face away.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he managed, his voice cracking. “Y-you shouldn’t have… my behaviour… I never should…”

“Hush,” she brushed his hair back, pressing a delicate kiss to his temple. “I was happy to, Ominis.” She pulled him closer, a hand at the back of his head, and he curled into her automatically, burying his face in the crook of her neck. The lingering ache in his body melded with his utter humiliation, contrasting bizarrely with a feeling of purest bliss. He held onto it, onto her, knowing that once she left this bed, this room, she’d never want to speak to him again. She had helped him, yes, but that was what she did. It wasn’t because she liked him. How could anyone like someone as depraved as him?

As if she could read his thoughts, she gave him a little squeeze, her lips brushing his ear.

“You know, I’d be happy to do this again,” she murmured, and he felt her lips stretch into a smile against his skin as his heart leapt. “With you, and only you. Only… let’s leave the experimental potions out of it next time, hm?”