Chapter Text
First, a warning for major Hogwart’s Legacy spoilers! Second, this is a story that I’ve been wanting to write for a while! Please let me know what you guys think. Thank you for choosing this fanfiction out of all the others out there to spend a few minutes reading. Here we go!
When news of Ranrok’s death reached him, Victor Rookwood had felt a sense of vindication. He had known something was special about this child that the goblin had pursued, and now his death had only proved it. Now, the once proud member of the Rookwood family was reduced to skulking in the shadows and observing from afar.
Ambrose had proven a thorn in the whole operation’s side since he had come to Hogwarts. He had easily taken down Ranrok’s troll, easily handled himself when stumbling upon loyalist camps, and eventually defeated Ranrok himself.
Rookwood was now alone in his fight against this child. Sure, he had his followers but not the extra support from the goblins. If he wanted to claim that magic that was his birthright, he had no one else to rely on but himself.
The seasons had changed from winter to spring, and students were bustling around Hogsmeade and enjoying the warm weather for the first time in a while. They swarmed around Zonkos and Honeydukes while buying the new fabled upgrades for their brooms.
Ominis had his wand constantly yelling at him to avoid the bustling crowd, but he dodged and weaved his way through with no trouble at all. He knew others would move as well. Besides, he was on a mission.
It had been a while since Sebastian experienced anything fun, and he had mentioned his love of sugar quills, the candy shaped like a quill that you could suck on like a lollipop.
It was Ominis’ mission to get his friend a pack or two before buying Ambrose some chocolate frogs. It was the least he could do. In fact, he was so engrossed in making his way around the crowd that he had failed to sense the person coming up behind him. Before he knew it, he was grabbed on the shoulder and apparated away.
Theophilus Harlow could not believe his luck when he spotted the blind student in the crowd. He had remembered seeing Ominis in Feldcroft with Sebastian, and he remembered seeing Sebastian with Ambrose in the Three Broomsticks. The connection was obvious, and the crook made the split-second decision to act.
When Rookwood heard his right-hand man apparate behind him, he turned with a smile, half expecting to come face-to-face with the trouble child, but his smile fell when he saw a blind and blond student that was obviously not Ambrose. To think that a Rookwood would be reduced to hiding out in abandoned buildings had made him impatient. “Who do we have here?”
Ominis stiffened as he gained his composure. He had his wand wrenched from him when he was snatched, so he was now stuck in the literal dark. The only point of reference he had was that familiar voice. “Victor Rookwood,” he almost gasped. “Where am I?”
“Not too far from the town center,” Harlow sneered. “Saw him making his way to Honeydukes,” he explained to his boss. “He wasn’t with his friends, but I thought he may help us lure that brat out of Hogwarts.”
“Certainly an idea,” Rookwood mused. “I’ve seen you around Feldcroft with Sebasstian Sallow.” He turned his attention back to the student. “How is the poor boy? My contacts have told me that much has happened since we last saw each other.”
Ominis refrained from speaking and tried his best not to curl in on himself. “I’m afraid I can’t help you in that regard,” he said rather politely. “I’m of no use to you, so I’d like to get back to what I came to Hogsmeade for.” He couldn’t go anywhere without his wand though and asking Harlow for it back was preposterous.
Rookwood sighed and nodded to Harlow who swiftly shoved Ominis to the ground. Pulling up a chair, he sat down closer to the Slytherin. “Now, I know you and Sebastian have been friends for a long time. Much longer than that new fifth-year. My men have heard that you have been trying to keep them from dark magic.”
Ominis kept his sightless gaze down at the floor.
“Now,” continued the crook, “why would you ever want to avoid it? A Gaunt like you could do very well in that regard.”
“How do you know who I am?” Ominis snapped.
“Come now. The Gaunts and Rookwoods? Our families have been in contact for a long time now. I heard you were against the idea of blood status.” Rookwood chuckled. “You’ve been intimately familiar with the cruciatus curse, right? Knowing your family, and I do know your family, you’ve had to curse some muggles with it. What was that like?”
Upon hearing the very word “cruciatus” caused Ominis to break out in a cold sweat. He could feel his heartbeat get faster and started shaking slightly. The screams of not only his victims but also his own started filling his head.
Harlow, who was much closer to Ominis, scoffed. “I think you’ve hit a nerve, boss.”
Curious, Rookwood shuffled closer. He was getting somewhere. “Listen, Mr. Gaunt. There’s no need for any theatrics here. You know that we don’t want you. We just want your friend. What was his name?”
Silence.
“Surely you know his name,” Rookwood pushed. When he wasn’t met with an answer, he again nodded towards Harlow.
Ominis felt a wand brush against his cheek from behind. He froze on pure instinct.
“What is your friend’s name?” Rookwood asked again, all niceties gone from his voice. “I’ll count down from 10, and if he doesn’t answer, Harlow, feel free to use the cruciatus curse on him.”
“No!” Ominis couldn’t stop his protest from leaving his mouth. “Please, you can’t do that!” He felt like he was going to vomit. “Sir, I can’t help you. Please let me go!” He crawled back until he felt himself bump into Harlow’s legs.
Harlow growled and grabbed a handful of Ominis’ hair to wrench his head back. With an almost sadistic gleam in his eyes, he dug his wand point right into Ominis’ throat.
“Ten,” Rookwood started. “Nine. Eight. Seven.”
“Please, sir!” Ominis begged, unable to really crawl away. He started feeling phantom pains from his own experience with the cruciatus curse. “I can’t!”
“Six. Five. Four.”
Tears were filling Ominis’ eyes at this point. His mind was torn between two possibilities: betray his friend’s anonymity or suffer that horrid pain that haunted him ever since that day.
“Three. Two. O-”
“His name is Ambrose!” Ominis practically screamed. When no pain came, he sucked in a breath and was left panting in relief. “His name is Ambrose Sloninsky.”
A smile graced Rookwood’s lips. “Good boy,” he crooned. “See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
Ominis was quiet, as the reality of what he had done set in. “I did what you wanted,” he cried, angry at himself for betraying his friend. He tried to ignore the pain from Harlow’s wand in his neck. “Let me go now, please. I’ll not tell anyone. I promise.”
How naïve Ominis was. How stupidly naïve and trusting.
Rookwood couldn’t help but let out a grating laugh. “Oh, my dear boy! My dear, dear boy. You are so much more useful than you give yourself credit for! Did you really think that that was all I wanted from you?”
Ominis’ swallowed and tried not to cry again in front of these men. “What are you saying?” he whispered.
“Well,” Rookwood exclaimed as he got up and clapped his hands together, “this was all good fun, but I’ve got things to do and letters to write. Harlow, you know where to bring him. Make sure our dear guest is comfortable when you arrive. I’ll be there to host him shortly!” He turned to the meager desk and picked up a quill, apparently done with his captive.
Whatever Rookwood was implying, it was not good, and Ominis realized how much trouble he was really in. He could only pray to whatever higher power muggles believed in that he would make it out alive. In a sort of sick sense, it was a habit he picked up from the muggles being tortured at his family home. He would hear them praying to someone called God, hear them praying for everything from death to help to mercy.
Harlow finally stopped digging his wand in the boy’s neck as he prepared to apparate. “Don’t worry,” he drawled. “You’ll see him again soon enough.”
With that, the two disappeared and left Rookwood alone to carry out his plan.
Sebastian’s concerns for Ominis only grew when he saw Ambrose come to dinner alone. He stood up and waved his friend over. “Was Ominis with you?” he asked quickly.
Shrugging as he came over, Ambrose sat down and started digging into the beautiful cooked pineapple ham. “I haven’t seen him all day. Have you?”
“No.” Sebastian picked at his own food, deep in thought. “He wasn’t in class, and he wasn’t anywhere during free time. The last time I saw him was during breakfast, and that was when he said he was off to Hogsmeade.”
Now Ambrose was worried as well. He lowered his fork and knife. “So, he wasn’t with you or me. Have you asked around?”
“Of course, I did. No one else has seen him either. Some said he was in Hogsmeade, but that’s it.”
“We have to tell someone,” Ambrose concluded deftly. He was done doing things under the table, especially after such a battle underneath Hogwarts that cost Professor Fig his life.
The two finished their dinner in troubled silence and were completely oblivious to the chatter surrounding them. It was as if they were numb to it all, a spell only broken when they were done with their food. Without a second thought, they hurried to the Slytherin dorms to work up a plan and what exactly they would say to the professors.
When they arrived, Ambrose was shocked to see that his owl was holding something in her talons. It looked like a fairly large package which worried him greatly. As he thanked his owl, he detached the letter carefully and opened it up. As he read it, his brow furrowed with a mix of anger and horror.
“What?” Sebastian asked. “What does it say?” He couldn’t bear it any longer and grabbed the parchment when Ambrose was done.
Hello, dear Ambrose Sloninsky! Do you remember our last meeting? I bet you do, and I admit that your skills with magic had caught me off guard. With that in mind, I had hoped to avoid such theatrical efforts, but there really is no other option available at the present moment. Presently, I have had the pleasure of meeting your blind friend here. Imagine my surprise when I learned he was a Gaunt! A bit awkward for family-to-family relations, but I’m sure they won’t miss him considering how cowardly he seems. Being blind is such a shame, especially for one of pure blood. Anyway, I shall be enjoying his company for a bit if you agree to come for a simple chat. Just a simple chat will save him from a few ill-placed cruciatus curses. Should I hear, from any of my sources, that you have taken this unfortunate turn of events to any form of authority, I will not hesitate to torture your friend myself until he begs me for death. If he's not good at said begging, I shall not oblige him. I look forward to your correspondence.
Before they could process anything any further, a small pack of sugar quills fell to the floor, followed by Ominis’ wand, still flashing red as if trying to guide its absent owner.
So it begins! Please let me know what you guys all think. I hope you all enjoyed it, and I thank you once again. I can’t say thank you enough. Bye from ThePoisonPen!