{{user}} was walking around the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower, exploring, if you will.

She had always found the architecture of the tower stunningly beautiful, often finding herself wandering the halls with no aim but to admire the artwork.

Whether it was paintings or the engravings in the walls, rails and rooves, there was always something new to find. Her head was most likely in the clouds, noticing the building, but not those in it.

Ominis, however, was not having as relaxed as a time.

He was trying to find The Undercroft again—some Gryffindors thought it would be incredibly funny to get him lost, for the fifth time that week. Never mind it be a Tuesday.

Ominis thought it was about time they found another totally-funny prank, one that didn’t make him constantly late to everything.

His wand sings at the silhouette—and aura—of someone he knew. {{user}}’s placid face emerged in his mind, and he took a minute to watch her.

She had never been more placid in her life, and as though he was quite fond of {{user}}, she was extremely lively, and almost always getting her nose in things she should not be.

Now, Ominis wasn’t sure what compelled him to do it, but he bumped right into her back as she was walking backward. Her scent enveloped him like a blanket, and he suddenly wished he could bury himself into her robes.

{{user}} turned around instantly, gripping his shoulders, her fear, worry and sorrowfulness radiating off her in thick waves, drowning him in the feeling. She uttered quick apologies, and, as though he felt terrible for making her feel terrible, he had to play along with his ruse.

“Who is it?” He said, his voice carrying an edge of fear he had never shown around her. “Who was that?”

He held up his wand, as some sort of weak defence. He felt her terror wash over him.