At least, that's what he thought, ten days into term.
"Hey, Gaunt!"
Ominis perked up. The Great Hall had emptied after lunch – he was thumbing through his Arithmancy textbook before the class when a familiar someone plonked onto the bench next to him.
"Garreth," he said, apprehensive. "What do you want?"
"Nothing at all," said Garreth, and he sounded genuinely cheerful. "I noticed you were alone and thought I'd say hello. What are you reading?"
"Theories of Numerology."
"Well. Sounds dreadful."
"It's actually riveting," Ominis said, deadpan, "and I'd quite like to get back to it, if you have nothing else to say."
If Garreth was offended at his bluntness, he didn't sound it. "If you must know, I did actually want to ask about the trial. I was surprised at what you said about Sebastian – the first parts, when you answered their questions, was that written for you?"
Ominis furrowed his brow. "Yes."
"Parents, I presume?"
"Yes."
"Ooo. Nasty."
"You really waited this long to ask me about Sebastian's trial?"
"Hey, I'm not afraid to admit I'm slow, and my aunt's got me helping this Ravenclaw girl with Potions, so what little brainpower I have is already being diverted." Unfortunately he only sank further into the table, making no attempt to leave. "Don't suppose you've done the History of Magic essay?"
"... You mean the one due tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not letting you copy it."
"Damn— I mean, right, that's fine."
And though it pained him to say it, he mumbled, "Gibby is excellent at the subject. She will help you. Quite likely will let you copy from her, too, though you didn't hear that from me."
"Oh, er, yeah," said Garreth. "Thanks."
Ominis was silent.
"Well," and the boy clapped him on the shoulder. "See you around? Er, not literally, of course. You know what I mean."
He skedaddled. That, Ominis thought, was suspicious. Tellingly his first thought was that Leander had sent him to spy, but no, that was ridiculous. Leander may have vied for your affections, but neither would he sink that low, nor was he intelligent enough to think of such an idea.
Yet it was a puzzle Ominis couldn't finagle, and Garreth continued to pester him like that for the next few weeks. He was no Sebastian, but they carried themselves similarly – bright and bold and chomping off more than they could chew. Together they were a dynamic duo of troublemakers, especially in Potions, but whilst Sebastian was like a storm, Garreth was more like a restless sunbeam on a balmy spring day.
"I think it's nice," said Missy to him, one frosty weekend morning in October, when most people were out of the common room. "That he's become your friend."
Ominis leant back on the high-backed chair. "He's not my friend. He wants something, I just know it. Homework, or potions ingredients."
"He's my friend," she remarked. "I can vouch for him. He's a genuinely good person."
"I'm sure he's delightful."
"It can't hurt to have more friends, Ominis, have an open mind." She cleared her throat. "Which... brings me to something."