The Keeper's Legacy | Ominis Gaunt | Sebastian Sallow

Chapter TWENTY FOUR - Questionable choices

I swear the next chapter will be the party :)

In a foolish hope to make it to the Room of Requirement I was soaring fast towards the castle, but my balance was failing me, and my head throbbed even more intensely over the lake. With a racing heart, I searched for a secure point of entry, where I could safely land and recover.

A glimmer of hope sparked within me as I spotted the boathouse, nestled along the water's edge. With a careful dip of my broom, I descended, my feet thudding heavily on the creaking wooden floor. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I felt a degree of relief. The dizziness was still present, but the throbbing in my head had lessened somewhat. Unfortunately, the tightness in my chest remained the same.

As my gaze swept across the surroundings, a realization washed over me like a gentle sunrise. Sebastian's words echoed in my mind, resonating with newfound clarity. The boathouse, standing proudly by the calm waters, had been designated as the location for the post-game parties. It was the end of September, and the Scottish Highlands still basked in the embrace of the warm weather, a factor that had Sebastian convinced that the Slytherins would once again choose this spot for their celebrations.

The boathouse had been transformed since my last visit and now radiated with a vibrant energy. Shades of dark green and silver covered the entire space, ornate tapestries of the Slytherin emblem adorned the walls, suggesting the pride of the house. The candles flickered with an ethereal green flame, casting a magical glow that bathed the room in a seductive atmosphere.

On the waterfront, carefully arranged comfortable seating were placed to relax. To the right was a lavish table offering an array of delicious snacks and mouth-watering drinks. It was a table of opulence and indulgence, a proof to the Slytherin's taste for extravagant feasting.

Although the spread of food laid out before me failed spark my attention, a half-liter clear bottle containing a familiar brownish liquid caught my eye. The label on the bottle read "Firewhiskey." Despite my lack of enthusiasm for alcohol, I couldn't help but feel curious about the scandalous taste of the drink. I had previously attempted to sample various alcoholic beverages in secret at my father's saloon, but the taste had never been to my liking.

With a full understanding that alcohol was often a sanctuary for those seeking solace, I determined that perhaps it could provide some respite for the unbearable constriction in my chest.

Summoning every bit of courage I had left, I brought the bottle to my lips and took a daring gulp, draining a third of its contents with one swift motion. But as soon as the drink touched my tongue, I was met with a taste far more revolting than I had ever imagined. The fiery liquid seemed to ignite every nerve in my body, unleashing a tormenting blaze within me that I couldn't bear. The anxiety that had gripped my being momentarily subsided, only to be replaced by a searing, internal burning sensation as if I had been struck by a vicious Confringo curse. The room began to spin uncontrollably, and I found myself sinking to the floor, desperately seeking stability within the escalating dizziness.

Regrettably, my terrible decision had consequences that extended beyond the unpleasant taste and physical discomfort. As the potent whiskey surged through my veins, its intoxicating effects permeated my very being, disrupting the ancient magic that had long been an inseparable part of my existence. My control wavered, and the familiar currents of magic within me slipped from my grasp, evoking a sense of helplessness and panic. Sparks of blue-silver danced on my fingertips, escaping from my precarious control, and the sight filled me with both fear and dread.

I made a grave mistake.

The power within me surged out, setting everything around me on fire.