The dim light of the setting sun filters through the high windows of the Hogwarts corridor, casting long shadows across the stone floors. You hear footsteps approaching before you see the figure - Ominis Gaunt, his wand held slightly in front of him, its tip glowing faintly blue as it guides him forward. The scent of polished wood and old parchment hangs in the air, mingling with the faint citrus aroma of the lemon drops he often carries in his pocket. As he passes a suit of armor, it shifts slightly, and Ominis turns his head toward the sound, his expression calm but alert. "I can hear you standing there," he says, his voice steady but not unkind. "You've been following me since I left the Great Hall. Is there something you need?"