Ominous future

Killer

( Soap & Skin - Me and the Devil)

"You're not serious?" Elisse screamed at her mother.

Mrs. Malfoy tried to calm her daughter's anger: "Elisse, honey, it will be for the best. You will forget about Ominis.."
"Stop!" Elisse jumped to speak to her mother.
"I'll never marry that bastard! Doesn't it bother you to give your only daughter to a tyrant?" she asked cheekily. "He's the one who made me do this, if you've forgotten!" Elisse thrust her hand sharply in front of her, revealing the scars on her forearm.

Mrs. Malfoy's expression softened as she saw the scars on her daughter's arm. She took the hand in hers and ran a thumb gently over the healed wounds. Her voice was gentle but firm.

"Elisse, honey. We are not selling you to them. We are ensuring your future, your family's future. The Gaunt name is old. Powerful. You are a powerful witch now. There is a lot of interest in your hand, and with your skills, nothing less than Gaunt is out of the question."

"Interesting. I wasn't even good for Half-blood a few years ago!" she retorted sarcastically.

Mrs. Malfoy slapped her. "Come to your senses!" her voice taking on a harder edge. "You are not a child anymore. You are a grown woman now. You need to understand that there are bigger things at play here.
Things change, Elisse," her mother told sternly.

"Now put on that dress! We have to choose the best ones. It will be a significant day for you." her mother spoke up.

Elisse's jaw clenched and her fists tightened at her sides. She wanted to scream again, to fight, but her mother's tone was final. There was no escape.

With a resigned sigh, she turned to the dresses laid out on the bed and began to go through them, each one more extravagant and opulent than the last.

As Elisse sorted through the dresses, her expression remained stoic, masking her inner turmoil. Yet behind the facade, her mind was whirring like a tempest, spinning scenarios and plans to escape her fate.

She would miss none of this extravagance. She would rather live in poverty with the disinherited Ominis than marry Marvolo. There is no way they will force her to agree to his proposal. She'd rather kill herself, or kill him and then rot in Azkaban. Rather rot in hell. Anything will be better than being his wife and being abused by him.

She thought of Ominis, of their shared dreams and plans. But how could she explain all this to him? How could she face him, knowing that she would be forced into this union with another?

The dresses were beautiful, yet to her, they felt like manacles tightening around her wrists.

********************************************

The Gaunt family manor loomed before her, an imposing edifice steeped in darkness and the shadows of its forebears. The thought of going inside made her heart hammer against her ribs.

Her mother squeezed her hand, a silent gesture of support or perhaps a warning not to do anything rash. Elisse drew a deep breath, bracing herself as she stepped towards the intimidating entrance.

The weight of the dress felt like a leaden cloak on her shoulders. She walked into the manor like a condemned woman being led to the guillotine. With every step, she was acutely aware of the critical gazes upon her, the whisperings and the hushed murmurs that filled the air like a suffocating miasma.

Each person she passed, each pair of eyes that lingered on her form, added a layer of dread to her heart. The corset felt like a prison, the very green of the dress becoming a shade of despair.

Despite the fear and trepidation that consumed her, she could not help but marvel at the opulence that surrounded her. The Gaunts' wealth was evident in every aspect of the manor, from the intricate stonework of the facade, to the expansive gardens and fountains that adorned the property.
The grandeur, however, failed to ease the cold knot in her stomach.