Between Comfort and Chaos

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓆏

Authors' Note: Sorry for the late post, I was meeting with some friends in a different city and the train took longer than expected coming home. This week's chapter has been split into two with the second part (both in Ominis' POV) to release next week.

With that being said I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who has read my story so far and who continues to read and support this. I appreciate all of your kind comments. They make me so happy to read!

𓆏𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Ominis POV:

My knuckles wrapped against the cold wood of my desk as Professor Binns droned on about some such war or rebellion. I took a shaky breath, trying to concentrate but it was hopeless in my current state. The anxious energy that had begun on Friday night had carried on over throughout the weekend into Monday. No matter how I replayed the chain of events in my head, I still couldn't get a logical answer as to why everything had played out as it did.

The most prolific question was why had Lessie stood me up? I could understand her being upset at my disappearing Friday night. That was justified, I myself would have been a bit miffed. Yet, I had sent her a letter, several in fact, explaining the circumstances. I felt the guilt rise once more at that being the most prominent concern. My stomach churned and my throat constricted, breathing picking up.

Oh come on now, get it together Ominis.

I attempted to use the breathing exercises once more, but my mind began to spiral.

Had I ruined our friendship? Did she despise me? Had she heard about what I had done to Hobhouse and assumed that I was more a Gaunt than previously thought? That I was more far gone than Sebastian? She must think me a monster. I wouldn't want to be my friend either. Worthless.... Deranged....

The thoughts kept swirling, bombarding me with self-loathing and I could feel my throat begin to constrict as if being strangled. The sweat began to form on my brow and a single trickle ran through my eyelashes stinging my eye. I ground my teeth, wiping at them with the corner of my robe. The robe, now that it became apparent, was too heavy on my shoulders, too warm. I shrugged out of it, pulling at my necktie as I heard the fabric hit the back of my chair.

Placing my head on the cool table, my hands fisted on either side by my ears, in hopes of some relief. I felt a hard poke against my thigh as I adjusted my posture. The bottle. I still had the bottle from Nurse Blainey in my pocket. I lifted my head and instead of my own inner monologue, the words spoken by my father on Friday flashed through my mind.

"Look at you Ominis, so weak over the opinions of others having to rely on potions for your wits? And here I thought you were finally making progress. Asserting your dominance as the Heir of House Gaunt, as an heir of Slytherin himself. You're a discredit to your own lineage boy, decades of carefully selected couplings and genes and it's been reduced to someone as weak-willed and broken as you. You disgust me."

My hand left the desktop sliding down into the silk lining of my trouser pocket and pulled out the cool hard vile. Without hesitation, having lost the care as to who saw me, I brought the vile to my lips. The sensation of the liquid coating my tongue slid down my throat moments later bringing with it an instant sense of peace.

I furrowed my brow, as I resealed it with the cork and gave it a testing swish. The remaining liquid inside would be enough to combat the effects of one more episode if that. I was almost through the second vile that Nurse Blainey had given me and would need to restock in a day or so if I couldn't get all these emotions in check. This was getting out of hand. It would be one thing if it was just myself dealing with the ramifications, but the casualties of my instability were stacking up. Everything was my fault and I was starting to believe I truly was worthless.

This is all my fault.

So much had happened in such a short span of time and my mind was having trouble compartmentalizing it all. Hobhouse, Larson, Aspen, Astraea, all of them had suffered some kind of fallout from my actions this weekend. The latter two, I was not sure as to the severity. Neither of the girls could be found. Much to my duress, I was sure they were avoiding me.

Astraea no doubt, was paid a visit from Father, undoubtedly being lectured about the virtues she must uphold in order to be able to provide suitable children within the next decade. The thought was repulsive. To box such a soul into a preplanned life. Yet, wasn't I the same? As heir wouldn't I be forced into the same situation come graduation?

Having realized the lecture was over, I stood up packing fast, and rushed to my last class. The mounting dread of having to serve my first night of detention soon after wasn't helping my nerves.

Ghoul Studies, which was a seemingly unpopular elective, was one that I was usually very intrigued about. However, as I sat down with a thunk next to Violet McDowell, and her annoying oversaturated floral scent, my mind decided to escape, playing back through everything that had happened this weekend.

FRIDAY

Professor Sharp, while disgruntled at being roused from his accommodations in the faculty tower, had held just as much concern as I at the mention of unsanctioned polyjuice potion. He had made a few comments to the detriment of Hobhouse and taken off to the scene right away.

We stumbled upon the scene, which Andrew described as 'reeking of piss, shit, and tears', as Hobhouse had expelled all those substances, in record time. Sharp, with a flick of his wand levitated the puffskiens, sending them back to their pens before casting a scrugio charm to clean up our victim.

"What happened here?" He asked, no emotion in his voice.

I could tell he was looking between Larson and me, expecting an answer. My wand pulsed, showing me a crumpled form on the ground in the fetal position. He was in shock from the sounds of his breathing and wouldn't be a reliable witness to the torture we had inflicted. I cleared my throat making to explain when Larson spoke up.

" Sir, he crafted a polyjuice potion of Astraea Gaunt with the intention of being dishonorable to her person. He meant to be promiscuous. Gaunt heard him talking about it on his way here and luckily I was walking by and offered to keep Hobhouse in one place until he was able to get an adult."

Sharpe let out a frustrated sigh. I could hear his feet moving as he approached the crouched form.

"Well it, appears I can confirm the use of polyjuice as he does look uncannily like Miss Gaunt at present. I will have to inform the headmaster, I double he will enjoy having to leave his family so late at night."

I sucked in a breath stepping forward bolstered with courage.

"Professor Sharp? "

"Yes, Mister Gaunt?"

"There was more than one potion vile. I heard him rummaging in a crate and the clack of hitting others."

Sharps' footsteps echoed as he made his way to the other side of the room as he located a couple of crates along the farthest wall. I could hear the wood groan as the lids were lifted and moved to the side. Finding nothing in the first two he let out a concerned sigh as the lid to the third clattered to the floor. Larson's feet bounded over and he soon was making distressed noises.

"Half the bloody box is filled with polyjuice potion!" He announced.

I could hear them rummaging in the box looking at the vials, and the atmosphere darkened as the ex-auror made moves back into the room.

"Larson put a lid on that box. You and Gaunt bring it to my office and lock it in. Do not stop to talk to anyone, if a prefect asks show them this key they will know not to cause you any trouble. I will take Mister Hobhouse to the infirmary."

With that he pressed a long metal key into my hand and cast at the prone figure, speeding out of the room. I stood in stunned silence, a bit disgruntled, at the chore. The sound of Larson nailing the lid shut brought me back and I waited until he had finished.

"A whole box?" I questioned sadly.

"It appears so, and labeled at that! He had half the bloody Ravenclaw girls in that crate. Bloody degenerate, makes me sick." He spat.

I stood in silence, mulling over the words, wondering how he had managed to make so many individual polyjuice potions in such a short amount of time. How could he have done all this in just the few short months we had been back at school.

Ruminating, a thought struck me, but it was ghastly and couldn't possibly be a logical explanation. Polyjuice was such an advanced spell and temperamental at best. The process is long and precise. There was no possibility of him having been doing this long term. Could he? The weight in my gut was telling me otherwise and I took a steadying breath, reaching my hands out and finding Andrews' shoulders.

"Did you get a good look at him after the potion took effect?"

"Uh... yeah? Why?"

"Tell me, how long did his hair grow?" I queried, the anticipation making the weight in my stomach rise to my throat.

"His hair? Her hair?"

"Yes, how bloody long was my sister's hair?"

Larson flinched at my tone then stilled as the realization dawned on him. I swallowed the rising bile back down my throat, hands digging into his shoulders.

"I was just below her ears. You don't think.... Fuck that monster!"

A memory surfaced of a newly 11-year-old Astraea having once again defied our mother. There had been a luncheon in which she had refused to act as a 'proper' for a young lady of our standing. A house elf had been tripped by a guest and instead of watching and laughing like the others, my sister had gone over and helped the creature up, before calling the guest a handful of unsavory names. Her outburst all but sealed the poor elves' fate. She was luckily spared the endeavor of the actual murder, however, her punishment had been much more grizzly for one of such a young age.

Mother had given her a pair of scissors telling her that if she wanted to act like a beast she would be treated like a beast. They shut her up in the basement for a week, and when she emerged defeated, bruised, and bloody her once waist-length hair was mostly gone. Only with the help of one of our elder sisters having a rare moment of compassion was it able to be made presentable. After that, she receded into herself, talking less, hiding in the shadows, and obeying Mother on command.

I released Andrew as I couldn't hold in the sick feeling anymore. I doubled over and expelled the contents of my dinner, fighting back the tears and the renewed sense of rage. When I had finished, I wiped my mouth and turned back towards Larson who had turned the other way to allow me some semblance of privacy.

"Let's hurry and drop this off. I think we need to bring up this point with Headmaster Black personally."

Having run into no prefects on our way to drop off the box of potions we made swift progress to the top of the Grand Staircase and sat outside the entryway door to the Headmaster's office. The chairs were plush and welcoming, completely in contrast to the feelings we were currently experiencing. I mentally cursed myself for leaving the draught of peace in my bedside table. I didn't need it yet, but if the night progressed as I thought it would I could see myself needing a hearty dose.

Minutes passed and the clock tower tolled, signaling the arrival of midnight. I yawned, not realizing how long we had been sitting in silence. Turning, I felt my back pop from having been seated so long. The door creaked open, and a voice beckoned us in.

"Larson, Gaunt, the Headmaster would like a word with you both." Sharp spoke, an edge to his voice.

We complied and a sense of unease washed over me. I wasn't sure if it was from the discovery of Hobhouse's derelict nature or from the overwhelming emotions that seemed to pass over me in waves. Either way my feelings were justified as we stepped into the office and I sensed the presence of three other people.

Seated behind his desk with his hands under his chin, was Headmaster Black. He seemed to be twirling his mustache or itching his cheek, I couldn't be entirely sure. What I was sure of was that the other two men flanked on either side of the desk were none other than Rupert Hobhouse and my father, Corvus Gaunt.

I gulped knowing that whatever outcome this was to have, was not going to go smoothly for any party involved. The regret of having roped Larson into the mess nagged at me, but I couldn't allow myself to show that. Not here, not in front of Father. Any sign of weakness would be seen and used against me.

"Have a seat boys, we would like to get to the bottom of this situation sooner rather than later. I was in the midst of having my nightly cigar and would like to get back to it swiftly." The headmaster tutted, seemingly disinterested.

We sat, neither of us making a sound. I knew my place and concealed my emotions behind the mask I had created. Etiquette dictated that I was not to speak until addressed directly and I would adhere to it.

Professor Sharp cleared his throat, opening the conversation.

"As I have told you my part of the incident up to and during, I believe these two may also have something to say?"

"Very well. Quickly Mr.Larson, what exactly did you see? " The Headmaster tutted.

His extra emphasis on the last word didn't go unnoticed by those residing within the room. I heard a slight shift in my father's posture and could only assume his ever-present scowl had deepened.

" I was walking back from the Quidditch pitch on my way to the dorm when I saw Ominis. He called out to me and as I approached he told me that Duncan was going to do something terrible." He gave a shudder as if recollecting something horrid. Lying through his teeth in a very convincing manner.

"Go on." Headmaster Black tutted.

"Well after I learned that Duncan planned to dose himself with polyjuice potion to... to... well... observe and explore his changed form, I couldn't stand by. We followed him into the outer wall. Ominis went in and I ran over to the beast's pen to get a puffskein. I came back and it wasn't Duncan in the chair anymore but Astraea Gaunt."

" What happened while Mr. Larson was preoccupied with the beasts?"

I made myself as straight as possible, schooling my face and turning my head in the direction of the Headmaster's voice.

" Sir, while Larson was away I walked in and waited for Duncan to notice me. He was in the back of the room for a few minutes and when he came back he was in the process of removing his clothing. I made myself known and he attempted to run. I restrained him with rope and when Andrew came back I demanded answers."

"Is that so? And pray tell how did you go about getting these answers, Mr. Gaunt"

Keeping my tone calm and even I shifted my gaze from the Headmaster to the direction of my father.

"I used the puffskein."

"Why did you use a puffskein, Ominis?"

It was my father who responded. My stomach twisted in knots at the fact that I was about to make my father proud with the knowledge of what I had done.

" Duncan is afraid of them. In 5th year his boggart transformed into one, so I thought it was the easiest way to get the truth from him."

"So you tortured my son?!"

"Rupert, is my son's retaliation really your biggest concern here? If I chose, I could demand much more than a month spent at home for your boy. I would advise you to lower your voice."

While his speech was well-mannered and calm, there was an underlying meaning beneath his words. While the Hobhouses were of pureblood stock, they still fell well below my own family in terms of influence and rank. Father was attempting to cow his opponent into submission. Mr. Hobhouse cleared his throat.

" Well, you have been very generous indeed Corvus. However, there should still be some punishment for these two."

"Ah, well if I may interject," Sharp spoke up once more. " As I currently am the head of discipline I would recommend a reduction of point for Mr. Hobhouses behavior as well as detention for both Mr. Larson and Mr.Gaunt. How does two weeks sound?"

The older men grumbled yet, did not argue nor suggest alternatives.

"WHAT?! How is that fair?! We just saved countless victims and were being punished? Ominis you can't think this is alright?"

"Mr. Larson, keep that up and it'll be two months detention. Do I make myself clear?"

Andrew slunk down into his seat and I remained a cowardly statue. Too afraid to make any move under the watchful gaze of Father. Black rapt his knuckles on the desk twice l before his chair screeched backwards.

"That settles it then. Mr.Hobhouse will take a leave of absence for the month of November to learn how to better conduct himself. Gaunt and Larson will serve detention with Professor Sharp for the next two weeks and reflect on the use of torture on fellow students. Dismissed. Now Corvus, about your youngest...."

With that, we stood up, Professor Sharp ushering us out of the office. The meeting had been lackluster and it seemed our statements held little weight as the punishment for Duncan's transgressions had been preordained. Inwardly I was fighting between rage and disgust.

Without a word, Larson stormed past us and I grab onto the door frame to steady myself. Professor Sharp bids me goodnight and I turn to make my way towards the stairs.

I got to the second landing before I heard a familiar echo behind me. The steps were even-paced and measured, slightly favoring the right foot. Ice runs up my spine and I stayed still waiting. There was no use in running, or pretending I hadn't heard him. The likelihood that he would want to discuss this incident was something I had expected. I just hadn't anticipated it to be tonight.

"Ah, Ominis, there you are." Corvus Gaunt's honeyed words floated into my ears.