Touched

Shadow of the Owls - First Year

Ominis POV

"Frip thinks it's time to get up, Master Gaunt," said a voice, jumping up to the blinds on the right side of Ominis' bed. "Doesn't Master Gaunt know what time his mother wants him to get out of bed?"

"I don't care," said Ominis, pulling the cover over his eyes so the fuzziness would turn black and there was no brightness. "Go away, Frip."

The house elf shook his head. "Master Gaunt," he said a final time. "You need to get up. Your mother needs help with the washing up. Breakfast has been ready for a long while."

"Mother didn't make breakfast," Ominis said sadly. "The other house elves would've." His mother would've been in her room with Ominis' father, scheming the new attack they were making, or the new children they were torturing etc. He shivered and settled back into bed, closing his eyes.

His room was cold in the mornings. Heavily made of marble, no warmth came from the walls surrounding, didn't come from anywhere except the white duvet on top of him.

"Frip will leave the cane here then, Master Gaunt, and tell Master Gaunt's mother that he is declining rising from bed." Ominis heard a clunk of wood on the wall.

That made Ominis rethink, and he shortly sat up, looking towards the voice of the house elf.

"I don't want the cane, Frip," Ominis rolled his eyes. "You know that." He felt for the carpet underneath the bed with his feet and when he felt the soft velvet, he slowly stood up.

"Until you get a wand, Master Gaunt, you will need to use some kind of aid. Frip thinks you do have good senses around this house though, Master Gaunt. It's like a rabbit burrow, this house."

"I'm aware," Ominis yawned. "And can you call me Ominis please. You bother me with all your 'Master's'."

"Frip is required to use pleasantries and polite vocabulary, sir," Frip managed.

Ominis shrugged and placed his hand on the cold marble wall of his bedroom. He followed the wall down the corridor to where his aunt stays.

"Aunt?" he asked, tilting his head as though to listen close to a reply.

The eleven-year-old was attached to his Aunt Noctua at the hip. His parents were not around much, and when they were they wouldn't pay much attention to him. His brothers had long moved out to join forces with his parents. Ominis was thankful for this. The only people or creatures he trusted in this prison was his Aunt Noctua and Frip. Frip had been in the Gaunt family for decades. Ominis wasn't sure how old Frip actually was.

Ominis carefully made his way down the stairs, feeling first with his foot and when he knew it was stable, he stepped down. Used the marble wall to guide him around. Ominis had been born fully blind, much to his parents' disdain. And trust in his family, they had tried every reversing practice they could find, but Ominis still could not see a single thing. Ominis and his family did not know yet what jobs one could have if they couldn't see. Dueling was out of the question at school at least, so he wouldn't end up in the Dark Arts like them. And that was it, wasn't it. That was where their disappointment stemmed from. But that was where Ominis felt comfortable, and relieved. Relieved that he wasn't good enough. Sad that he wasn't good enough. Confused why he had to be good enough.

Frip was half right. Ominis could hear his mother talking to the house elves that were cleaning up.

"You're not doing that correctly, house elf," she said icily, picking up a dish of some sort and dropping it to the floor. Ominis heard it crash to the ground and instinctively was careful on his feet. "I trust you know how to clean that properly?"

Ominis didn't hear the house elf's reply, but from Frip's sigh next to him, they would've been cleaning it up wrong. Ominis felt a deep loathing for his mother in his heart and he'd only just got out of the damn bed.

"Mother," Ominis said, an attempt to distract her.

"Finally, you're up. Lazy, you are. It's almost eight o clock in the morning, are you aware?"

"I don't usually look at the clock when I wake up," Ominis drawled. "People usually wake up at this time. Normal people." He was used to his mother's disdain, and frankly, he didn't have the energy to care anymore. Any day now, he'd receive his Hogwarts letter and he wouldn't have to live here anymore.

"They're not going to be able to deal with you in school you know," his mother snapped. "Not only are you stupid and uncouth and rude, but you're also useless. Can't read, can't write. Can't duel. What are you supposed to do with your time, child?"

Honestly, Ominis didn't know. He shrugged and sat down at the table. "I need to get a wand from Ollivander's."

"Well, no wand wants you, boy," she laughed. "You should've had one by now. None of them have chosen you."

"I didn't get a chance to find the right one." He recalled their trip to Hogsmeade earlier in the year. Every single wand they'd tried didn't agree with him. Flew away, hexed the shelves beside him.. hit Ollivander in the eye. Lucky he wasn't blind.

She scoffed. "I wasn't about to stand there until the Hippogriff's came home, was I?"

He shrugged again, trying to push aside any feelings of sadness. He wanted to be a good wizard just like any of the other boys his age. Come to think of it, his letter should have come by now, too. His brothers didn't go to school, but he need to. He'd never been to Hogwarts, and he knew already that he belonged there.

He kind of snacked on a bit of toast with butter and some pumpkin juice that was on the table, didn't bother feeling what the rest was. His mood was dampened, just like any other morning he woke up in this house. If he didn't get his owl today, this life would continue to be stupid and sad and pointless -

A soft material brushed his ear.

"What is that?" Ominis exclaimed, standing up, holding his hands over his ears and swatting feathers away simultaneously.

His mother screeched and ran over to the table to swat them away. Ominis gathered it hadn't made much of a difference, there were feathers everywhere.

"Owls!" Ominis exclaimed. What timing!

Another voice broke through the pandemonium.

"Merlin's beard!" It shrieked.

"Aunt!" Ominis cried. "The owls are here!" He laughed, for the first time in weeks. "They're so soft! There's so many! Have they a letter, Aunt? Tell me, have they a letter for me?"

"It's a letter alright," said his mother, snatching something out of the air, and the owls dispersed out of all the stained glass windows of the house, "although I don't know why it had to be delivered by so many owls."

"They've been following him around," said his aunt excitedly. "They couldn't understand why he wasn't responding to them. I've seen them perched around. But they've come quite early. I couldn't have thought it would be his Hogwarts letter. They shouldn't be coming until next week.. is it his letter?"

"It certainly is," his mother confirmed, begrudgingly. "You can have it later."

Ominis deflated immediately. Being young, tears were welling up already. He could feel them threatening to spill over onto his cheeks. This was his chance of freedom. To get out of this place. To live his life the way a young wizard should.

"Come on, Mersyn," Aunt Noctua said. "Let him have the letter. He's going to school either way." She had a firm way of speaking that his mother relented to most of the time. Ominis crossed his fingers behind his back.

His mother placed the letter next to Ominis' chest so that he could hold it.

He ran his fingers quickly along the edges of the envelope, on the firmness of the wax seal, he turned towards the direction of his aunts voice and held out the letter to the air.

"Read it! Read it!" He cried. He hadn't felt excitement like this in a long time.

He was going to Hogwarts.