Cause & Effect | Ominis Gaunt Love Story

Chapter 29: The Art of Convincing a Demon to Care

He was silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about his words. "There isn't anything you can say to convince me to give you the relic. Why not go home?"

Stella was equally as silent, feeling her mood dampen. "You wouldn't understand."

"I understand many things," Ominis said, walking over to her and taking a seat. "I have more intelligence in my finger than the entire Wizengamot."

Arrogant prick. "You're very intelligent-"

"You can stop there."

"-But you don't understand empathy or compassion." Stella finished, ignoring the doxies in her stomach. She felt nauseous like this would be a turning point in whether or not she stayed here. They were having this conversation finally. A serious one.

He looked bored, answering her question and brushing a piece of invisible lint off his coat sleeve, "Just because I choose to ignore such things doesn't mean I don't understand."

"Why would you?" Confusion swam in her eyes as she looked as his uninterested expression. As always, he revealed nothing of what he was thinking and kept his attention on the stars. He was studying them as if he never took the time to sit and empty his mind.

"Abilities such as empathy and compassion are for the weak." A frown tugged at his lips, "Enough about philanthropy. It's a bore and we have things to discuss. Convince me, Miss Malfoy," That frown turned to his customary cruel smirk, "Tell me why I should give you the relic and not hand you over to the Unspeakables. I could send you back forcefully."

What? Hope began to fade inside her.

He'd turn over to the Ministry after all?

Chapter 29: The Art of Convincing a Demon to Care

Stella didn't know where to begin, but he didn't comment on it as the minutes passed. How could she explain not going home would not only kill her mother, but her as well?

"My parents fought in a war against people who had the same beliefs about bloody purity as the most of the Gaunt family" Stella said, wondering if she should be vague or not. She could inadvertently change the course of history, but if he was to die before the 20th century, then it shouldn't matter, right? "They were considered heroes of the war along with close friends of the family from that time. I grew up hearing how talented they were at my age, but I never reached the expectations of my teachers. I scored average and didn't excel anywhere."

She took a deep breath, ignoring the anxiety rising inside her. "They also liked to compare me to my brother who's only two years old and exceeded their expectations, rivaling my Dad's brilliance in potions, and my Mum's ability to wield nonverbal magic at a young age. When it came time to graduate, I picked a Bookshop to work at and manage instead of pursing politics like Mum, or law enforcement like Uncle Harry, or even becoming a healer like Dad. Everyone had these silent expectations for me, but when I repeatedly failed to meet them... They stopped looking. I felt like a star that never got wished on after a while."

Another pause as she rubbed the handle of the tea cup. It'd grown cold and now seemed even less appetizing than talking about her emotions, "And I was content with that after a while; it was easier that way. My family never pushed me in any direction, as long as I was happy-they were happy. Then I was diagnosed with Endometriosis when my Mum recognized my... hard times.. as something many of the women in her family struggled with too. A witch suffering from a Muggle condition that inherently weakened her body was the last straw. Then Mum got cursed and..." Stella cleared her throat, trying not to let the tears fall even though it got to the point where her eyes weld up, and she could barely see. "If I can't do something as simple as bringing back an object to help save my mum, then everything I've been afraid of will be true. What's the point of living when I'm destined not to change the world even in the slightest?"