In 1891, Victor Rookwood becomes successful in his plan. After Y/n fails to save her only guardian, Professor Eleazar Fig, and also fails to protect the Repository - Rookwood becomes allies with the most Pureblood families in the Wizarding World to...
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Y/n's Perspective
I didn't see Ominis Gaunt a week after what happened in that training arena. Nor has he appeared anywhere near the Gaunt Manor since. It was a rare week.
I didn't expect much from Ominis. He was my enemy; I hated him. A lot — but yet, when we now live in a world that is governed by a bigger enemy than Ominis Gaunt himself, Sebastian Sallow in Azkaban and people were dying, the educational hatred was the least to stress about.
I felt some sort of embarrassment giving my trust in him that easily, especially when I did not know what to expect. Was he really telling the truth? Was Ominis really going to help? Or was this a joke that had gotten too far with him?
"Up, up," The voice of Alford Gaunt rang back into my ears as I laid on the floor, tiredly, "I don't want this motion of laying the day of the ball. I need you on your feet."
I could feel droplets of blood draw over my forehead. Sometimes, I couldn't tell if it was sweat or blood. I could only find out when I'd be guided back to my bedroom and see the dry blood wiped over my face.
"I can't control it w-when I'm tired." I said breathlessly, my ancient magic being non-existent now with the control of Alford Gaunt.
The price I paid for ruining the Masquerade Ball last Friday was expensive. Although I was never threatened by Crucio again, it was no comparison to non-stop training with magical beasts and Marvolo Gaunt's scolding. And the best of all, Alford Gaunt.
"There is no excuse. You are fed, managed, and wield ancient magic," Alford lectured from the side of the protective magical barrier, "I need you twice as lifted from the last ball. This is crucial. You were an embarrassment." He insulted me.
I could feel my ancient magic flare up within my blood, but the prevention of using it stung over my wrist. I've managed the last few nights to prevent it from fueling and stinging me, but Alford Gaunt was a really difficult person to not get angry at.
His two children were enough to fill my anger the last year of my life, I no longer had any space for another Gaunt.
"The next ball is this Friday," Alford informed, his heavy voice echoing around the space as his wand made the spiders disappear, "There is already tension from the last one. I don't expect a number of invites, unfortunately, but we need to gain them back."
I was surprised people were still showing up in the first place. After a failed entertainment like that, I'll never show up myself.
"You cannot fail this." Alford warned.
I went to my knees, struggling to get up as Alford apparated a Wiggenweld feet away, my fingers shaking as I reached over to it and began to talk.
