Hogwarts Legacy : A Sixth Year Continuation

Chapter Fifty-Nine : A New Year

His eyes were wide, but I imagined my grin was wider.

I pricked the tip of the curved blade on my fingertip. It had remained untouched at the bottom of my trunk since my precious year when I had taken it from a goblin hide out. The blade pierced the soft skin on the index finger of my left hand the red pooling in a fat droplet before falling into the hollow of Marvolo Gaunt's neck. I watched his pulse quicken as the blade reflected across his grey eyes.

I picked up one of the bottles lined up next to my brother, the potion a deep marron, almost black in the darkness of the bedroom.

"Do you know what these are?" I asked Marvolo.

"Of course I know what they are you filthy mudblood." He spat, still struggling against his restraints. I felt an eyebrow raise on my forehead, he was literally at my mercy and was still hurling insults.

"And do you know who created this potion?" I asked uncorking it. Marvolo said nothing in response. I couldn't tell if he genuinely didn't know who had created it, since my mother never sought fame for her creations, or if he simply wouldn't admit a mudblood like my mother had thought up such a groundbreaking invention.

"My mother, Emerald O'Hara is the inventor of the blood replenishment potion which most students at Hogwarts will study the brewing of in their fifth year." I mused swirling the potion in its bottle as I gazed upon the man beneath me. The man who had killed Caoimhe's brothers. Who had tortured my mother and laughed. Who had used crucio on Ominis for refusing to participate. He had always been a bully and prayed only on those he saw as weaker than him. I wasn't going to be weaker.

"It doesn't ease pain, it simply replaces blood lost through injury. Have you're ever used it?" I asked meeting his eyes. A droplet of sweat fell from his brow down his cheek and onto the hard dark wood under his blonde head.

"I'd never use a potion made by a mudblood. Their filthy minds couldn't create anything of value. Including your thieving mother. Let me up now before I make you regret being born." He spat, wriggling beneath me again.

"Couldn't create anything of value?" I chuckled. "Let's find out."

Before Marvolo could retort the flash of silver cut his throat, blood pouring from the major vain that had been pulsing with panic, it fell across his white skin just as the muggle blood had flowed across the snow that day in Galway. Before his eyes could close I forced the full bottle of potion into his mouth, the blood retreating backward into his neck and sealing the skin, a pale scar that could have been years old was the only evidence of any injury. He coughed and spluttered and gasped for air as his blood and his life returned.

"You're fucking insane!" He croaked out, a couple of flecks of blood falling from his lips as he did.

Upon his insult I slashed his throat again, a gargled scream escaping his lips as I did. The gurgle in his throat was intoxicating.

"That one's for Ominis." I growled, forcing his mouth open to allow the wound to heal and the second scar to appear across his neck. The sweat was bubbling on his forehead but his mouth remained a straight line as he kept his eyes on mine.

His neck was boring me, I ripped his white shirt open to reveal his pale toned chest. He was lean and slender but there was musculature under the skin of his stomach. A blank canvas.

I pressed the blade into the skin of his breast bone and dragged it to the top of his belly button. The scream that came from Marvolo was unearthly, it made the hairs on my arms raise as blood seeped quickly from the vertical line down his torso, I then lifted the blade from his stomach and made a shorter horizontal line between his breast muscles.