Guiltless

Remember the pleasant, somewhat tingly feels of the last story? Yeah, they don't exist anymore. We're moving right on from happy cuteness to emo. XD But with a character like Marvolo Gaunt, it's fairly inevitable. I decided to go ahead and give this one an M rating mostly because of the subject matter. I mean, Marvolo straight up kills he wife, then proceeds to mistreat his children minutes later. It isn't anything too graphic, but I'm putting it up there anyway just in case. This was a surprisingly difficult one for me to write, so let me know what you think.

Marvolo always found children disgusting. Necessary, for the obvious reasons of reproduction, but disgusting regardless.

As he held his newborn daughter for the first time, the by now familiar feeling of repulsion yet acceptance saturated his emotions. He would say it took hold his heart, but he had come to doubt whether his supposedly vital organ worked properly. It was a side effect of being an Heir of Salazar Slytherin, he knew; ambition, cleverness, and efficiency left little else besides logic. And now that he held the squirming, agitated pile of chubby limbs and wrinkly features, his logic began to kick in, zeroing in on the pale woman lying on the bed beside him.

His wife, like all of the wives in his family for as long as he could recall, was a cousin on his mother's side. As a Slytherin and pureblood, the Gaunts were responsible for withholding the family's untainted name, and they could trust no one outside the family without taking unnecessary chances. Marrying so closely to each other had its risks, certainly, but it was worth the small price to ensure their continued blood purity. As the last remaining heirs alive, Marvolo felt particularly responsible. Their heritage was all he had left of value to give to the world.

This tiny creature was the final phase. The woman he'd been forced to marry proved her worth, providing him first with a son and now a daughter. Unfortunately, the task seemed to have an ill effect on the woman – her already pale face turning sicklier, the blood rushing away from her high-boned cheeks. If he wished, he supposed he could heal her; his magical skills were fair, but it would take most of his ability to do so. In the end, it appeared to be more of a question of whether the woman was worth the effort. As he considered it longer, he began to realize she wasn't.

Causally, he resituated the baby into his left arm, slowly reaching for his wand. Even in her half conscious state, his wife soon realized Marvolo's plan. She took in a soft breath, on the verge of begging for her life, but he acted before she had the chance. Waving the wooden instrument, he causally muttered, "Avada Kedavra." The room filled with the familiar green light and she was gone.

Satisfied yet unwilling to deal with the body quite yet, he retreated from the room, ignoring the baby's harsh cries. The woman accomplished the ultimate goal of the House of Gaunt – to continue the line of Salazar Slytherin. She ought to have been proud that, even in her death, she had succeeded in her most significant use. A boy and a girl, one of each sex, able to do as so many had before, to follow in their duties and ensure that the blood of Slytherin remain both strong and uncorrupted. For the first time in years, Marvolo breathed a sigh of relief. This tiny, ugly, unfortunate little creature he gripped in his hands was his salvation.

Upon entering the kitchen, he took in the sight of Morfin. The lad was his miniature, and Marvolo intended to make sure that extended to family pride as well. Many, including the boy himself, would draw back in disgust at what his father would eventually suggest, but he could be properly trained to see the necessity. Minds, particularly young ones such as his, were amendable, susceptible to new ideas and proper influence from their elders. Marvolo had the time and determination to guarantee it was molded to the correct mindset. Morfin's head rose abruptly at the sound of his sister's cries, a grimace of distaste at his lips.

"Where's Mother?" the child demanded, his voice strong despite his underlying fear of the man life bequeathed him for a father. Marvolo placed the babe in the child's arms before seeking out a broken bottle of firewhiskey from a nearby cabinet. He took a long draught before speaking.

"Dead," he said simply, watching his son's eyes widen. The boy stood, arms barely large enough to hold his sister, and glared harshly at Marvolo.

"You killed her!" he shrieked, ignoring Merope's pained cries at the uncomfortable sound. "I'll kill you!"
"You haven't the nerve," Marvolo replied evenly, unfazed by the empty threats his child often released at his father. Many other similar such words passed almost daily between the two; he may have been the link to continuing Salazar's line, but that didn't mean Marvolo was obligated to like the boy. He was merely a means to achieve an end. "It was necessary."

Lines of tears streaked down Morfin's cheeks, incapable of being wiped away due to the pile of upset newborn he held. "How could you?" he asked, pain making his young voice break. Marvolo shrugged once, taking another sip from the burning whiskey.

"She was dying," he said simply. "I put her out of her misery."

"You're a wizard! You could have saved her! She was your wife!" His words were barely discernible through the sobs heaving from his chest, and his thin legs gave out on him abruptly. He slumped to the floor, Merope giving a particularly loud scream as she slid down beside him. Marvolo's eyes glinted with anger as he strode forward, kicking the boy roughly as he scooped the baby back up.

"Idiot child!" he snarled while Morfin cried into the floor. "It was unavoidable! She was no longer needed! Do not make me regret my decision by killing you as well!" The pair fell silent, allowing Merope's cries to fill the abrupt stillness of the room. Eventually, however, she too went quiet, tiny hiccoughs escaping her as she fought for breath. Slowly, she slipped into an uneasy yet sound sleep, nestled in her father's unwilling arms. The man watched her disinterestedly, grateful only that she was finally peaceful. It was many minutes more before either spoke again.

"What now?" Morfin asked dully, eyes fixed downward in predictable acceptance. Marvolo set the sleeping girl on the rickety table, taking the only chair for himself.

"We survive," Marvolo answered, eyes unfocused as he glanced out a nearby window. "We survive so that Salazar survives. I will not allow his name, our name, to die. It is the reason I live, and the reason you were conceived." He turned back to his sleeping daughter, studying her as a specimen in his elaborate and convoluted experiments. "We carry on, ensuring that nothing stops us. It is why we are here, to bring pride to the houses of Slytherin and Gaunt." Though he recited the words he was raised to steadfastly believe, the hollowness of his tone was not lost on his only son. Morfin nodded once, and they allowed the night to shrivel out in favor of the reluctant light of day.