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He was stunned into silence, bright, wide and inquisitive eyes stared up at the familiar face of the portrait as it paced back and forth like a caged lion. Its biting stare made him choke down a gulp as his attention was stolen by the real Marina, the actual fiery hair that he knew and had come to get used too. She cast the silencing charm around them, making it impossible for others to eavesdrop, which piqued his curiosity (and fear) all the more. His lips parted to speak as he tore his eyes away to meet hers, but he stuttered and found he had nothing to say, and instead listened to her hurried explanation. ”Wait, what? Are you bloody serious?” He blinked, shaking his head to try and quell the accusations forming in his mind. But when he found the death of a stern stare boring into him, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

”Accio blanket,” he summoned once he pulled his wand out of his robe pocket. Dominic snatched his green Slytherin bed sheet up with both hands and jumped to try and cover the portrait around both angles of the frame, and each time, his fingers unknowingly knicked a small silver plaque at the top backside of the frame where words were hidden behind. He jumped several times too, just to make sure he got it up alright before he turned back to them with a paled complexion. ”You need to get this out of here then, unless you want a professor to catch on…” Dom paused to stop and stare at Damien. ”Well come on then mate, you’re the brains here.” He waited expectantly, hoping for an obvious solution to this wretched problem. There was no sense in trying to think of who or what caused this, if just looking at it made Marina want to break down and cry, or worse, kill. And with a first year hidden in the corner reading her book, it wouldn’t do to let the poor ickle firstie suffer the blunt of her wrath just because of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Dominic blinked, taken aback abruptly as the portrait fell down with a thud at the sound of a dull command. It fell face first with a bit of a whoosh and was carefully swept up with impatient hands by Damien. Dom had taken a step back once it fell, and he hadn’t realized it until now, when he straightened his posture and cleared his throat. He felt a lump burying deep in there, but he didn’t know why. Lines of stress creased at his brows as he watched the verbal altercation lash from one serpent to the next, until all eyes were on him and he was shifting his weight about from one foot to the next while he tried to fully understand the situation. ”Uhm, well, I—I, yeah, I think…” He scratched at the back of his head.

He could feel the impending stare of Marina boiling into his flesh, and he bit back a defensive, albeit, snide remark about—well—he didn’t know quite about what yet! But it he would have started talking, he probably would have thought of something! Probably!

”Hold on to your knickers, Marina, damn, let me think…” Or, probably just sound like a stupid git, like that. He tried to bite back the incredulous thoughts forming in his mind as he moved closer, crystal eyes roving the engraved print carefully. ”Oh yeah, my da’ always hated him, that’s Nott’s shop in Knockturn… Remington, I think his name. My da’ always said he was the slimiest snake he’d ever seen…. That’s the initials and font that the shop uses to trademark its artifacts, to certify it’s “authenticity” or whatever the bloomin’ hell…. The Spiny Serpent, I think, is the name of the shop.

“Why? Where else have you seen this?” Because from the looks on their faces, Dominic could judge they’d never step foot in the shop before. Damien might have, but he doubted that Wesley would have ever gone in there (especially with Damien,) even when they were still in their arrogant, purist ways.