Threads of Fate
"Father."
"Yes, my sweet?" The Headmaster’s voice was warm as he set his teacup down, his smile as indulgent as ever when it came to his cherished daughter.
Belvina hesitated, drawing in a deep breath as she tried to summon the courage to speak. "Is it possible…," she trailed off, her fingers curling into the fabric of her Slytherin-colored skirt.
"To?" her father prompted expectantly, his gaze still soft and affectionate.
"You mustn't be so timid, my dear," her aunt interjected smoothly, her own saccharine smile barely concealing something sharper beneath. "I’m certain your father would grant you anything your heart desires."
Belvina swallowed hard, pressing her palms against her skirt to rid them of their clamminess before finally mustering the strength to say it.
"To end... the engagement?"
The words hung in the air, and with them, the atmosphere in the Headmaster’s office shifted violently. A suffocating chill seeped into the room, causing Belvina’s breath to hitch. A shiver ran down her spine as her father’s expression, for the briefest of moments, darkened. Even her aunt, who had been poised in calculated sweetness, now sat utterly still, a storm brewing behind her eyes.
But then, just as quickly as it came, the chill dissipated, and the Headmaster’s warm smile returned, almost as if she had imagined it.
"My sweet girl," he cooed, his voice as gentle as ever. "Whatever has possessed you to ask such a thing? You know how vital the alliance between the Blacks and the Gaunts is to both our families."
Her aunt remained silent, but Belvina could feel the tension in her posture, the barely contained anger simmering just beneath the surface. And why wouldn’t she be furious? She had spent years ensuring the union remained intact.
Belvina had always been wary of her aunt—terrified, even. She had witnessed first-hand the way she inflicted cruelty upon the house-elves without hesitation, her punishments often veering into the realm of sadism. And now, with the newest addition—the so-called criminal—under her control, Belvina feared what would happen if her aunt ever provoked something... or someone... stronger than her.
Because that ‘criminal’ was dangerous.
At first, Belvina couldn’t understand why she allowed the abuse, why she remained so docile when it was clear she was more than capable of fighting back. But now, after what she had witnessed in the library, she knew.
She had seen her betrothed—the man her family had carefully bound her to—wrapped in a passionate embrace with the very person her aunt delighted in tormenting. Ominis Gaunt, the so-called reject of his family, kissing that criminal as though she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Belvina had stood frozen, unable to look away.
She hadn’t expected to feel anything. She had never truly cared for her engagement to begin with—marriages between pureblood families were as common as breathing, and her father’s decision had been absolute. In truth, she had resented the match at first. Ominis Gaunt was a blind, withdrawn recluse, an outcast in his own lineage. She had been furious when her father announced their betrothal, insulted that he would choose someone so... lacking for her.
But then, Ominis became a hero.
Overnight, he was no longer just the pitiful Gaunt, but an exceptional wizard whose talents defied his disability. And with that change, her perception of him shifted. She had started to see him differently, admire him, even. He wasn’t just competent—he was clever, composed, and frustratingly handsome.
And yet, no matter how many times she tried to reach him, to build some kind of connection, he remained cold. Distant. Uninterested.
It wasn’t until she returned that Belvina finally understood why.
Across the Slytherin table, she had watched him smile—not a polite, empty expression, but something warm, something genuine. And it was all for her.
And then, in the library, she had seen it again—but this time, it wasn’t just a look.
This time, it was a kiss. A deep, unguarded, hungry kiss.
Belvina had felt something twist inside her. Humiliation. Rage. A pain she hadn't expected.
She could tolerate his coldness, his indifference—but to know that he was capable of such passion, such devotion, and yet refused to even look at her that way?
It was unbearable.
She would not be tied to a man who had already given his heart to someone else.
She refused to be made a fool.
"Belvina," her aunt's voice was low and measured, but the sharp edge beneath it sent an immediate shiver down her spine.
Belvina swallowed hard, setting down her teacup with forced delicacy before responding as sweetly as she could manage. "Yes, Aunt Elladora?"
Elladora’s eyes, cold and piercing, studied her like a predator sizing up its prey. "What happened with Mr. Gaunt?"
Belvina knew that wasn’t the real question. What her aunt truly wanted to know was whether she was involved.
Feigning innocence, she took a slow sip of her tea, hoping the act would mask the nervous flutter in her chest. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Don't pretend, my dear," Elladora snapped, her tone as sharp as a blade. Then, her voice dipped into something more venomous. "Was it something to do with that mudblood?"
"Elladora!" her father barked in feigned protest. "You're scaring my daughter."
He turned toward Belvina with a warm, doting smile, reaching across the table to gently take her hand in his. His thumb brushed over her knuckles in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture, but it only made her stomach churn.
"Answer your aunt's question, my dear," he coaxed, his voice syrupy and sweet—too sweet.
Belvina’s pulse quickened. A part of her hesitated. Saying it aloud felt _wrong_, as if she were betraying some unspoken rule. But then again, was she really at fault? She was his fiancée, and he had humiliated her—cheated on her.
It was only right to speak the truth.
"...I saw them," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Elladora’s expression darkened instantly. "You saw them?" she repeated, her tone laced with disbelief and something far more dangerous. "Where?"
"A-at the library," Belvina stammered. Then, realizing what her admission might set into motion, she quickly added, "Please, Aunt Elladora, I don’t want any trouble."
Elladora’s expression shifted. The anger in her eyes did not fade, but her lips curled into a deceptively warm smile. "Oh, my dear girl," she murmured, a false sweetness in her tone. "You’re not the one in trouble."
A cold pit formed in Belvina’s stomach. She knew what her aunt was about to do. She could see it in the way her fingers tightened around her teacup, in the gleam of malice that danced behind her eyes.
Without thinking, Belvina lurched forward, grasping Elladora’s hands in desperation. "Please, Aunt Elladora, don’t harm her."
The warmth in her aunt’s expression evaporated instantly. Her eyes narrowed into an icy glare, her fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to strike. "You pity that filthy mudblood?" she spat, her voice filled with utter contempt.
Belvina shook her head fervently. "No! I just—" She forced herself to take a deep breath, gathering her composure. "If you harm her, you will only push Ominis closer to her."
Elladora’s expression softened slightly, though the calculating glint in her gaze told Belvina that her words were merely being weighed, not necessarily heeded.
"I understand," her aunt said after a moment, though the false sweetness had returned to her tone. "But I cannot simply let this slide. She needs to be taught her place. Permanently."
Before Belvina could protest further, her father suddenly straightened, the motion so abrupt it sent an eerie silence through the room.
"Well," he mused, his smile widening ever so slightly, "we can kill two birds with one stone."
Both women turned to him, confusion flickering across their faces.
Elladora was the first to speak. "What do you have in mind, brother?"
The Headmaster’s smile deepened, his grip on Belvina’s hand tightening just slightly.
"How does dinner with Mr. Gaunt sound?"
"So, how's the family business?" Sebastian teased, his tone light but mischievous.
Ominis arched a brow, settling into his seat beside the twins for dinner. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked incredulously, reaching for a goblet of pumpkin juice. He had just endured another mind-numbing lecture from Professor Binns, and he sincerely wondered how anyone had ever survived an entire semester without succumbing to the overwhelming boredom of his droning voice.
His wand flicked subtly beneath the table, scanning the hall as he instinctively searched for _her_. The tension in his shoulders eased when he sensed Theowen nearby—though she was seated at the far end of the table, undoubtedly placed there under Elladora’s watchful eye. At least she’s being allowed to eat like a normal student again, he thought. That could only mean that Headmaster Black had instructed his sister to rein in her cruelty—at least, for now.
"Ominis," Sebastian called out, snapping him from his thoughts.
"Yes?"
"You have lipstick on the corner of your mouth."
Ominis stiffened. Panic surged through him as he hastily wiped both corners of his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.
Sebastian's laughter erupted across the table.
Ominis froze mid-motion, realization dawning upon him. Theowen doesn’t wear lipstick. His face burned.
"I knew it!" Sebastian crowed, triumphant. "You snogged her, didn’t you?"
"Keep your voice down, Sebastian!" Ominis hissed, his grip tightening around his goblet. If anyone overheard, there would be no end to the rumours—and a detention would be the least of his worries.
Sebastian made an exaggerated sniffle. "Oh, my boy has become a man," he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart.
"Sod off, Sebastian!"
"Oh, come now, I only jest," Sebastian grinned, thoroughly enjoying Ominis’s embarrassment. "I never realized you had such a daring side."
Ominis scoffed. "I'm not that much of a recluse."
Sebastian gasped in mock horror. "Oh, please. You are the very epitome of a recluse."
Ominis huffed in exasperation and grabbed a chicken leg, stuffing a bite into his mouth to end the conversation.
Anne, thankfully, intervened. "Brother," she whispered sharply, "stop it. You’re making the table uncomfortable."
"Alright, alright," Sebastian raised his hands in surrender. "I’ll stop."
A moment later, Anne turned to Ominis. "By the way, Ominis, would you mind accompanying me to Diagon Alley this weekend?"
Ominis hesitated, puzzled. "Diagon Alley? Why not Hogsmeade? It’s much closer."
Anne fidgeted slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Ah... I need to gather some materials for a potions assignment, and unfortunately, the herbalist in Hogsmeade has run out of the ingredient I need."
Sebastian furrowed his brows. "Potions class? But I thought you gathered all—"
THUD.
Sebastian yelped as Anne elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
Ominis tilted his head, growing more perplexed by the twins’ odd behaviour.
"...I see," he said slowly. "I suppose I could accompany you."
"Great! It’s settled then!" Anne clapped her hands together, her voice a little too chipper.
"I can’t wait to try Florean Fortescue’s ice crea—"
Another THUD.
Sebastian winced as Anne elbowed him again, harder this time.
"Never mind," he muttered, gritting his teeth through the pain. "Just remembered I have assignments to finish."
Ominis frowned, sensing an undercurrent of something unspoken between them, but before he could press further, a familiar weight landed on his shoulder.
Alaric.
His owl ruffled its feathers before dropping a letter onto the table.
Ominis instinctively reached for it, slipping a treat to Alaric before running his wand over the parchment. His frown deepened when his wand whispered the sender’s crest in his mind.
The Blacks.
A pit formed in his stomach. This can’t be good.
Breaking the seal, he let the spell murmur the contents to him. As expected, it was an invitation to dinner. This weekend.
Anne, having caught the emblem on the letter, leaned in slightly. "So… does this mean the trip to Diagon Alley is cancelled?"
Ominis pursed his lips. He didn’t want to disappoint her, especially after everything she had endured.
Shaking his head, he gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Not at all. But I won’t be able to stay for dinner, I’m afraid."
Anne exhaled in relief, muttering under her breath, "That’s great…"
Ominis sighed, rubbing his temple. His days were becoming increasingly hectic, the weight of everything gnawing at him. But at least Theowen was allowed to eat her meals again. That was a small victory.
Still, he had a sinking feeling that the weekend’s events would be far from simple.
And then—
A hush fell over the Great Hall as Professor Weasley stepped onto the platform, clearing her throat.
"My dear students," she began warmly, her gaze sweeping over the eager faces before her, "I hope you are all enjoying the return of the semester and immersing yourselves in your studies. Hogwarts is at its best when its students are engaged, ambitious, and striving for excellence."
A gentle murmur of agreement rippled through the hall.
"Now," she continued, her smile widening, "I am pleased to announce, after much deliberation from the Board of Governors, that we have officially reinstated the Triwizard Tournament this year!"
The hall erupted.
Gasps, cheers, and excited chatter filled the air. Students practically vibrated in their seats, whispering excitedly about the legendary competition—the first since the ill-fated events of the past.
Professor Weasley waited for the noise to settle before continuing, her voice ringing through the enchanted ceiling.
"For those who wish to participate, the selection process shall begin in this very hall next Friday."
The anticipation in the air was electric.
"Please ensure you place your name into the Goblet of Fire when ready," she instructed, "as we will be announcing the selected champions in the following week!"
The Great Hall exploded with cheers once more.
Sebastian, beside Ominis, was practically bouncing in his seat, shaking him in excitement.
"This is bloody brilliant!"
Ominis, however, felt a strange unease settle over him.
A cold whisper at the back of his mind.
A warning.
For some reason, he had the distinct feeling that this tournament would not go as smoothly as everyone believed.