Pure Inheritance ~ Ominis Gaunt

Part 1

She was bored beyond expression. A glass of Deep Swamp wine was twirling against the crystal walls, all while creating a faint melodious song. Drinking the murky drink gave a sense of euphoria that lasted a couple of seconds. It was rather easy to fall into the enchantment brewed by the swamp merman, but even such a beautiful experience was clouded by the fact that she was working.

Several all-fashion bureaucrats of the magical community of London were mingling about. All trying to establish or enforce their relations. The colours swirling around were easy to follow. Those who carried themselves with a self-righteousness, but meek attitude were part of the Ministry of Magic. If they felt bold enough, they would wear grey capes made of heavy materials; the rest of them hid between brown and black robes.

On the other side -the more colourful side- was the pure-blood witches and wizards. The aristocratic version of pure blood. That small percentage enjoyed the privilege of their heritage in money and power. Their frocks were a joy to see. The colours were vivid, some gowns literally enchanted to have their embroideries dance across the fabric, and jewellery fashionable minimal to highlight their status. It was beautiful and sickening.

It was like watching a symbiotic relationship unfold. All of them were flaunting what they could offer to this association. Some of them had money, and some had the power to make the pure-blood family's problems disappear.

That was all it was about. She took a drink of the green wine and enjoyed the melody resonating with her body.

Today was the Ministry of Magic's annual gathering. A ball of sorts to enjoy and congratulate themselves on another successful year of peace. She should be mingling as well. It was supposed to be part of her training to exchange pleasantries with the rich to create a connection.

"I can't be bothered"- she thought.

Her eyes got lidded because of the excess of alcohol. She was ready to bolt. The whole thing was suffocating.

She left the cup next to a golden lamp, ready a slither away.

-What are you doing?

MC turned around. Byberg Diels, an old member of the Ministry and her trainer was heading towards her.

"Busted."

-Como on child! Don't be shy -his laugh was almost too joyful for his job description- I know it seems pointless, but it is a party, nonetheless.

-I would like to excuse myself. I am not ready for this- she didn't want to be rude. Not with him.

-Hm. Very well – he patted her shoulder-. Go home. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.

MC was surprised that he let her go so easily. Usually, he was a stickler with the rules, but it seemed the wine made him feel generous.

Before he could change his mind, she frolicked around the dark and colourful figures, trying to reach the four-meter-tall door that kept her away from freedom.

- ...mc...?

Her body was frozen in place. Her name was spoken in a low and insecure whisper. Almost imperceptible. She twirled around with too much force, her neck resenting the action.

There was no one behind her. No one was watching her. She was surprisingly known around this community, but it's been years since she made herself unapproachable by pure blood. So, who could have used her first name with such familiarity?

Because it felt familiar. Longingly familiar.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uEgxtjcYTHU&list=LL&index=11

Almost in a trance, pushed by the lyrics of a song performed by a long-haired Veela– "Queen of Disaster"-, her steps took her deeper into the ballroom. Her heart, having been dormant for so long, was now pushing against her chest, forcing her dark soul forward. Every palpitation felt deliciously painful.

Once more she moved between all the strange figures around her. She looked at their faces, one by one. She had almost reached the end of the room without recognizing anyone. Was about to give up on her chase when she finally heard that voice again.

-You go ahead. I'll join shortly.

That voice.

His voice.

Polite. Commanding. Respectful. Gentle.

MC twirled around once again, and this time she saw him.

He was exactly the way she remembered. Taller perhaps, but just as beautiful and elegant. As if his mere existence was a gift for the mere mortals who could never reach him.

"Pull yourself together".

His attire was custom-made for his lean body. An ink blue jacket with a black vest underneath complimented his eyes, and the only piece of jewellery was the crest of the Gaunt's house. His brown hair looked slightly shorter than before, and although his posture was always elegant, on this occasion, it looked almost cocky.

She could tell the moment Ominis felt her nearby. He tilted his head towards her with masked interest, and his back and shoulders adopted a state of alertness.

-Ominis! - she was beyond happy to see him, but before she could get close, another woman came in and took his arm in a lady-like manner.

She murmured something in his ear, and right away he relocated his hand on her lower back and pushed her to the furthest side of the room.

-Ominis! -MC called him.

He kept walking away as if he didn't hear her; with his chin up and eyes looking forward.

- Please... wait- she couldn't move fast enough since she still had a sea of people blocking her.

-MC?- Someone called her- Is everything all right?

- Mr. Diels. Yes! I was trying to say hi to someone- when she looked back, he was already gone.

- From the Ministry?

-No. I think he might have been a... guest?

-Do you know the name?

-Ominis... Ominis Gaunt.

Her trainer looked rather interested.

-I see. Is he a friend of yours?

Perhaps calling him a friend was a stretch. Ominis and her haven't spoken in nearly five years, three of which she hasn't even seen him. Not to mention, he didn't seem interested in talking to her.

- No- disregarded with her hand-. I was just excited to meet someone from Hogwart.

- Ah- he looked disappointed-. I figured as much. Do not concern yourself with that. The Gaunts don't usually attend our annual gathering. Wouldn't be surprised if he already left.

- That is a shame.

MC gathered her brown coat and exited the building. The wind was sharp against her skin, but her coat was enchanted to keep her warm. The snowstorm was in a rage and was fighting to keep the seemingly abandoned castle from ever recovering. She looked behind her, and she could barely distinguish the entrance between all the rubble.

- Do you need help, madam?

A small and cold abused elf was talking to her.

- No, I am just going home.

-Do you have a Thestral? I can fetch him/her for you.

- I have a broom.

The elf paled at the mention of it.

- Ma... madam. I beg you to consider – his voice was laced with fear of being beaten by her-. It's too cold.

She smiled at the sweet creature. She adored how some elves were able to keep their innocent countenance.

- I'll be ok.