Chapter 4. July, 1883

"Crucio!" the teenage boy snarled, baring his teeth, and aimed his wand straight at the fleeing poor wretch's back. The target flew up into the air, letting out an inhuman scream, before crashing back to the ground, writhing in agony. Convulsions shook his body, foam spewed from his mouth, and his eyes rolled back. The wizards cruelly cackled with delight. How much twisted pleasure such amusements brought them.

"Hey, little brother, come over here!" Marv called out casually, tossing his wand from one hand to the other, addressing the small child figure standing at a distance with their back turned to the scene.

The child flinched but remained standing in place. Then the intimidating, long-armed teenager, resembling a gorilla, moved towards him with slow, heavy steps. He menacingly flexed his fists but decided not to use them immediately. He turned to his buddies, who were laughing approvingly. Gruffly, he grabbed the boy's hand and dragged him over to where the innocent Muggle continued to scream in agony. The boy tried to resist and turn away. That's when Marvolo Gaunt firmly gripped his chin and turned his face towards the person lying on the ground, not allowing him to look away.

"Watch carefully, Ominis. Watch and remember. Either you do this, or they'll do it to you," the older brother whispered slowly and menacingly into Ominis' ear.

"Yeah, kid, you'll be going to Hogwarts soon. You need to learn to stand up for yourself," one of Marv's friends casually remarked, giving the Muggle lying on the ground a nudge with the tip of his boot.

Ominis silently cried. He didn't want to witness this; he wanted to run away and hide where his brother could never find him. But was there even such a place in the world? He felt deep sympathy for the person lying sprawled on the dirty stones in the dark alley. No one deserved such treatment, not even those without the gift of magic. Ominis wiped his tears with his sleeve and clenched his teeth to suppress any sobs. His brother disliked seeing any signs of weakness in him. But, of course, Marv couldn't have missed the tears.

"You're pathetic! A disgrace to our family!" he exclaimed with disgust, pushing Ominis away from him.

Sitting on the ground from the push, Ominis tried to stop his tears to avoid angering his brother even more. How much he hated him. Why couldn't he just leave him alone? Why involve him in his schemes? Or was dragging Ominis into this also part of his mocking games?

"Do you know what? I have a brilliant idea of how to make you a worthy man of the House of Gaunt. Get up!" Marv ordered Ominis.

Little Ominis hurried to obey, hoping that he would get a couple of punches and be able to return home soon. He turned to the man lying nearby. The man was breathing heavily and barely trying to move. It seemed like he had resigned himself to his fate and didn't even hope to get back home to his family today or ever. Ominis wanted to help him and decided to wait somewhere nearby until his brother and his friends left, and then come back. He didn't know memory-erasing spells, but he doubted that anything bad would happen to him if he simply escorted him home.

Meanwhile, behind Ominis, Marv was discussing something with his friends, sneeringly glancing at him. "This is going too far!" Ominis heard one of the wizards react to Marv's suggestion. He nervously swallowed, thinking that he needed to find the right moment and escape. He wouldn't be able to hide for long, but if he could make it home, he would be relatively safe until tomorrow morning. He surveyed the alley, calculating the trajectory of his escape when he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

"Finish off this Muggle, little Ominis, and I promise you'll be free until the end of summer holidays," Marv said, adopting a falsely sweet tone while smiling widely.

"I... I can't," Ominis mumbled, feeling the tension and fear grip him.

"Why can't you? It's just a simple spell. You can choose any of the three, and this trash will die from any of them," Marv continued, strutting around him.

"I... don't want to... kill," Ominis squeaked even softer.

"You'll have to kill eventually, if not now, then someday. But right now, you can do it under your loving brother's guidance," Marv started to grow irritated.

Ominis remained silent. Any response he could give now would be inappropriate. The very thought of taking a someone's life was impossible for him. He couldn't comprehend where so much cruelty came from in his brother and his entire family, who supported it. He constantly felt branded as an outcast, although for now, the adult relatives treated him tolerantly, only noting that with age, he would come to understand what it meant to be a member of the Gaunt family. How he wished Marvolo would just leave him alone, find another victim, and make Ominis invisible to him. But apparently, that would never happen. He could only find some relief when his brother left for Hogwarts in the autumn, but then other family members would pester him, urging him to improve his relationship with his brother and follow his example. Lately, he had often heard Marv talking about wanting to leave Hogwarts because of the dominance of mudbloods, and to Ominis' disappointment, their father seemed inclined to agree that such a school was not worthy of their children.

"Why are you silent, you little rat?" Marvolo hissed, bringing his face as close as possible to his younger brother's. The boy cringed from his foul breath and tried to turn away. Marv didn't allow him to do so, grabbing him by the chin and turning him towards himself. He was seething with anger, and Ominis began to fear that his patience would soon snap and his brother would punch him in the face. Instead, Marv thrust his wand into Ominis's hands, pushed him towards the helpless Muggle, and yelled, "Go on! Kill him! Or are you just as much of a piece of trash as he is?"

Little Ominis started crying again, threw the wand aside, and shouted in response, "I won't do it! I won't!"

"Fine," Marv unexpectedly calmed down sharply. He walked over to his wand, lying against the wall, picked it up, and wiped off the dirt from his clothes. He looked at Ominis, and under his burning gaze, the young boy wished he could shrink to the size of a speck and fly away. This look was a harbinger of great trouble, and Ominis knew it. If his brother looked at him like that, it meant that tomorrow it would be very hard for him to get out of bed because of the beatings. He took a step back, ready to bolt at any second.

"If you're such a lover of filthy Muggles, then you must be ready to share in their suffering," Marv drawled, slowly and menacingly approaching his younger brother, rolling up his sleeves, and pointing his wand at him.

"Hey, Marv, there's no need to go that far. I think just giving him a good beating should be enough," a voice of one of his friends was heard.

"Shut up! Or maybe you want to join him?!" Marv snapped again, becoming furious once more.

His friend mumbled something but gave in. Being a friend of Marvolo Mraeks was much safer than being his enemy. Ominis decided to seize the moment and sprinted with all his might, desperately trying to reach the corner and get lost in the crowd. However, his elder brother reacted instantly, and before he could even cover a couple of meters, unbearable, unprecedented pain tore through his insides. In the split second before that, he heard Marv shouting with a voice full of hatred from behind him, "Crucio!"

The throat of little Ominis burst from a terrible scream, his vocal cords literally burst and hot blood flowed into his stomach. His joints twisted at the most unthinkable angles, deep cracks went through his bones. His nerves seemed to be pulled out of him with red-hot tongs and wound around them like spaghetti. His veins burst, spilling liters of blood around him like a fountain. Ominis forgot who he was and where he was. His brain turned into another source of endless pain, expanding and splitting his skull. His eyes burned as if long needles dipped in poison had been thrust into them. His screams went on and on and on, never ceasing for a moment. It seemed that he had already died and ended up in hell, where he had been for at least several thousand years. His only desire was to leave this body as soon as possible, because it is it that is the source of all suffering.

Marvolo was breathing heavily, his eyes bloodshot, and his teeth bared in a furious grin. He continued to point the wand at Ominis, although not a single spark had come out of it for a while. He was simultaneously experiencing animal-like horror at the sight of the child writhing on the ground and sadistic satisfaction from the quenched hatred. Did he want Ominis to die? Probably not. But could he have killed him in a fit of uncontrollable rage? Absolutely. His pathologically uncontrollable temper had already led to deaths.

Little Ominis finally stopped trembling and screaming. He lay on the ground, gazing at the sky with vacant eyes, and tears silently streamed down his face. His pupils had dimmed and completely merged with the boundless, tender blue ice of his eyes. Before them, there was only impenetrable darkness. He was certain he had died; otherwise, how could he explain that the whole world around him had plunged into darkness? The pain had subsided, leaving a soft buzzing throughout his body and emptiness inside. Air filled his lungs again, carrying the familiar city smog and the sounds of bustling crowds. He could hear faint voices directly above him, but couldn't make out the words or understand whose voices they were. He wished to lie like this for eternity: feeling nothing, comprehending nothing, seeing nothing.

The massive hands abruptly lifted him and tried to put him on his feet, but Ominis kept collapsing back to the ground. The owner of those hands was shouting something, even delivering a few blows. They thrust the magic wand back into his hands and pushed him forward until his feet met the soft side of the still motionless Muggle.

"I can't see anything, Marv," whispered Ominis, assuming that the hands holding him belonged to his brother. His hearing was gradually returning, along with the ability to speak.

"What are you mumbling about, little rat?" he heard the voice almost right by his ear. "Can you hear me at all? Finish him off, or you'll get it again."

Marv's voice was much calmer now; it seemed he realized that he had gone a bit too far this time. He wasn't shouting or spitting anymore, but he was still pressing his point. Marvolo Gaunt had no intention of giving up on his plan just because his younger brother was barely standing on his feet. No, Ominis must do as he was ordered, and then, maybe, Marv would listen to whatever he had to say.

Ominis, feeling drained and blinded, sensing himself merely as a shell of a person, raised the wand, directing it toward his own feet, where the soft, still living flesh of the innocent man lay. His hand trembled, his legs could barely support him, his cheeks were wet, but his face remained utterly indifferent and empty.

"You know what to do, little Ominis," Marv said mockingly.

"Crucio," the child said with a colorless voice, flicking the wand sharply.

The Muggle writhed on the ground for only a moment, after which he let out a plaintive groan and, at the same time, his last breath. His heart could not stand so much pain and just broke. The wand slipped from Ominis' hands, bounced a couple of times off the cobblestones, and landed right next to the dead man's face. Ominis kneeled down and collapsed on the ground just a couple of centimeters away from the body. He pressed his hands to his face and let out a desperate howl. In that sound, there was more pain than in the screams he had uttered under the spell's effect. Now, he had become just like his elder brother, like his mindless friends, like the members of his unloved family. How he wished to be as far away from them as possible, anywhere on the planet: at the bottom of the ocean, within the depths of the northern ice. No matter how much he didn't want to be what they forced him to become. Alongside deep despair, he felt profound fear and grief. He dreaded his future and mourned the innocent child he was just a few minutes ago. No child should experience what he had endured. Ominis understood this, and in his heart, a black, all-consuming hatred for dark magic and those who, for some reason, thought they could wield it for their whims began to awaken.

***

"Hey, kid! What happened? Who is this man? Who did this to him?" onlookers crowded around little Ominis, while the Muggle policeman shook him by the shoulder, trying to find out what had happened.

"The boy is clearly in shock, take him away from here."

"Where are his parents? We need to find them."

"Poor child, no one should witness a murder like this."

Concerned and curious voices sounded from all sides. They led Ominis away from the body, where he tried to slip away unnoticed amid the crowd's noise. But his newfound blindness prevented him from walking even a few meters without bumping into someone. He thought that he would never find his way home now and would rot somewhere in a dark alley. Such a prospect was slightly better than returning to the family home and living under the same roof as his tormentor. But then, a strong male hand pulled him out of the crowd. Holding him by the shoulder, it confidently guided him through the streets, helping him avoid falls and collisions. Ominis smelled tobacco and alcohol and recognized his father by the hoarse breathing. Was he grateful to him for now being able to live a few more years? Perhaps, yes. It's hard to say. But if his father hadn't shown this semblance of care, the first and last time in his life, Ominis would have never met Sebastian. And for that, he was certainly grateful.