Silk Roads

Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Confrontation(?), and a well-deserved Vacation

April 1967
Location: Hogwarts, Marcaunon's study

Marcaunon was unmoving as he stared into his son's ruby orbs, absorbed by his wondering thoughts and whirlwinds of emotions just shimming underneath all of his occlumency shields. The two were both seated at the opposite of one another, with Marcaunon unable to break the silence that came with Marchosias's (expected) entrance.

Death, that traitor, had fled the scene, stating with much solemnity that he didn't want to be in the middle of two people whose temper are on par with a pregnant woman's during a difficult labor. Both of the two humans had developed a tic on their temple at being compared to a hormonal soon to be mother, but kept their lips sealed –knowing but not admitting that their tempers were actually worse.

He knew that he was acting like a petulant child that was caught red handedly stealing a cookie from the forbidden jar, but he inwardly shrugged it off. Silence is great and makes the world go round –it wasn't as if he was afraid of Marchosias's reaction. Pfft, of course not. Really.

"Will you explain?" Marchosias's voice was like hot knife cutting through butter –sharp and melting. "Or will you continue with your unwanted silence?"

Seeing no way out of it, Marcaunon sighed and leaned back, whilst still maintaining eye contact. He wasn't worried about Chaos reading his thoughts, seeing that he had mastered the art of occlumency back when he was in his forties –his shields were utterly destroyed by Snape and he had to rebuild them from scratch, which took half a decade just to have basic protection.

"She looked similar to the child version of one of my childhood antagonists." He wasn't outright lying, mini-Petunia did look like Aunt Petunia, with lesser wrinkles.

"A childhood bully is enough for you to lose control over your Magic?" He raised a brow. "Or have I overestimated you?"

"A mere childhood bully would not be my undoing, Marchosias." He scowled at the insult he received.

"Was she not a mere bully to you then?"

"... She was somebody who constantly... loses her grip over her frying pan when I am near."

"She physically abused you?" Marchosias gritted out as he narrowed his already crimson eyes –a sign that he was royally pissed.

"I wouldn't call it abuse, just disciplining."

He looked at me with disbelief and Marcaunon grimaced inwardly at the wording. Harry Potter used to think that every child gets their head whacked by a frying pan when making breakfast incorrectly, and it was engraved in his mind that it was called discipline by his guardians, not abuse.

"That's called abuse, mother."

"I would only call it abuse if that resulted in a concussion."

"Muggles..." Marchosias's eyes narrowed dangerously and he held in a shudder –he looked similar to Tom Riddle when the teen ordered the Basilisk to kill Harry Potter. "You lived at an orphanage throughout your childhood, is that right?"

Marcaunon was tempted to reply with "What, no 'mother'?" but pushed that out of his mind. It wouldn't be smart to tickle a sleeping dragon –a Hogwarts' Professor should follow the school's motto after all.

"Yes." Keep the answers short and simple Gaunt.

"Was this look-alike a worker there?"

"No."

"... I understand that you would prefer to keep your childhood to yourself," His expression was understanding, but his tone stated otherwise. "however, don't I have the right to know as your child?"