Hogwarts Legacy: The Price of Power

Liberation and Cost

Ominis shivered on the cold, dank stone of the cellar, curled in a ball, his hands over his head, the lingering ache of the Cruciatus curse still shuddering through him. His ears were ringing, the sharp, insistent tone covering the subtle echoes he used to determine what was close by, all but the loudest sounds covered by the remnants of the curse. Somewhere to the right of him, Marvolo was cackling, his sharp voice renting through the cloying air like a lance, his parents further away in the cavernous room.

He huddled tighter around himself, as the ringing began to fade at last, shrinking back against the chilly wall as three pairs of footsteps paced around, the soft bubbling of a large cauldron somewhere by the foot of the stairs. The scent of sweet, summer strawberries, gentle lilies and Dracaena's hair wafted to him, scents that were usually so delectable turning his stomach, for he knew what to smell them here meant. Another ache passed through him, and he pressed his knees to his chest, gripping his hair, terrified that one wrong move, one small sound would be enough to see him tortured again.

He'd been such an idiot, suggesting he go in here alone! Why? To impress Dracaena? To save her and his best friend from whatever horrors awaited him? Of course his disguise hadn't been enough! Of course Marvolo had to catch him slithering towards the library! Of course he didn't believe his entreaties that he was just a curious little serpent, nothing more! Of course his damned father knew how to use the Homophus charm!

All his fault. It was all his fault.

Marvolo had hit him with the Body-Bind Curse before he'd even had chance to try and explain, dragging him down the stairs, roaring triumphantly about how everything could start now, not later. He hadn't understood then. All he'd known was fear. But when they hauled him to the basement and told him what he was expected to do, releasing him from his bonds, all resolve and decorum had failed him, and he'd made a terrified dash for the stairs, only to be tortured at the hands of his family, for the third time in his life.

He couldn't help the screams that shredded his throat as for a second or two, as he knew nothing but agony in its purest form. He was given a moment to breathe, and his mother had asked him if he would be willing to indulge their sick fantasy, as if he had a choice!

No, no! Never! NEVER!

Another bout of Crucio had left him weak and shivering against the wall as his father dragged a heavy cauldron down, humming a merry tune as his mother scratched at parchment with a quill, Marvolo keeping his wand on him, firing the occasional hex into the stone above his head, just because he could.

His stomach roiled, his skin cold and prickling, somehow still feverish.

They were going to force him to wed his own sister. To engage in the Gaunt family tradition, to keep their bloodline pure. Bile rose in his throat, and he clamped his lips shut, forcing it back. They knew he never would choose such a life, so they were going to make him, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. He'd shuddered, dry, gasping sobs shuddering through his chest as he'd tried to crawl away, only to be hit with a stinging jinx from Marvolo, who cackled again.

"We're gonna watch, you know," he'd laughed. "Make sure you make an honest woman of her, little bat!"

Ominis keened softly, pressing himself into a corner. He could try and resist, he could spit the potion out, he could kick the cauldron over, he would do anything to escape, if only his damned legs would move! Why couldn't he move? Why was he too afraid to even uncover his face? Dracaena would never lie down and take such punishment! She'd leapt in front of three unforgivable curses for him!

But as he tried to rise once more, determined to make a run for it, he fell back, scrabbling at the ground, his screams unheard as his mind exploded with pain beyond comprehension.