As soon as she left McGonagall’s office, Ophelia hurried down the corridor towards the stairs. She stopped before taking any step up towards the Gryffindor Tower and felt something watery on her cheeks. There was no need for a mirror or a touch to know she started to cry. The pressure she’s been feeling was a burden, the burden called family. Her mother’s character became as questionable and mysterious as Tom’s and Ophelia was wondering which one she should believe. It was clear that Dumbledore has done nothing but interfere with her life and nudge her towards certain choices, most of them keeping her away from her real family.
As all these thoughts came swirling at her, the tears continued to spill out as if she was a waterfall. It was impossible to face anyone in such a state so she turned right and jumped on the stairs before they moved.
Being conflicted where to go and which parts of the castle to avoid, she ended up roaming around aimlessly. The silence surrounding the castle was not as comforting as she imagined; in contrary, it made her feel lonelier. As opposed to how she begun the year –happy and excited for what was to come- it took a slightly different direction. Thinking about it, Spinnard and Cerberus were former friends of Peverell’s and they all had met Tom at one point. Thus, having them at Hogwarts while she was there as well must have meant something.
Ophelia stopped and stared down at her shoes with her arms hanging loosely alongside her legs. It was never about Lillian or her safety, was it? It was about Tom. It’s always been about him but why? What has he done? It was so complicated and Dumbledore wasn’t making it any easier to understand.
“Are you sure you heard right?”
The sudden voice of an anonymous student shook her out of her thoughts and forced her to hide wherever she could. They were getting closer and Ophelia found one available space that seemed big enough for her to sneak in, right behind an armour.
“I told you, haven’t I? It’s been zooming around since dinner. It seems Lestrange and Malfoy fought over something or another. The rumour is that their families have been at each other’s throats these days.” One of the students informed his friend. They were far older than Ophelia, probably sixth years, but it was impossible to see which house they were from.
“Ha, families like theirs never stop being at each other’s throats.”
“True. But it seems Malfoy has created this group with the rest and they’re trying to teach young Slytherins the dark arts.”
“What does professor Slughorn say about that?”
“Nothing. If Dumbledore doesn’t know then I hardly believe Slughorn does. Besides, he wouldn’t care. It’s pureblooded families we’re talking about. Who would dare go against Lestrange and Malfoy?”
Those were the last words she heard as the two boys got too far for her to hear any more. Who would dare go against pureblooded families, especially Lestrange and Malfoy?
“You’re late, which I would let pass if you were the kind to be late for something.”
Cerberus was a surprisingly sharp person for how laid back he seemed. He has been her professor for a few months already and truthfully, Ophelia never arrived late.
“I had a wonderful chat with the headmaster,” She started, trying to sound normal.
“Right,” Cerberus narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious of the way she was standing there, “What was it about?”
“Why don’t you try and find out?”
That question wasn’t suspicious per say but the way her eyes glinted while she taunted him sent a chill down his spine. The dark haired man grasped his wand and murmered Legilimens! before venturing inside her mind.
The memory he entered was the nearest, as if Ophelia was granting him access to a secret inside it.
Cerberus found himself in Lillian’s house in Ireland, one that he only heard about from Peverell but never visited. It was incredibly cold, so much that he could see his breathing in the air. It was also very messy, as if someone has come and thrashed the place in hopes they could find something valuable to trade. The wood was old and cracking under his feet, making noise whenever he’d take a step.
Cerberus’ head snapped towards the stairs when he heard someone running up. He didn’t think twice and rushed after the noise, keeping his wand close for defense purposes. He was in a memory but it was so clear that he could swear it was real.
Once upstairs, he turned towards the right end of the hallway and breathed out, anticipation growing in his senses. One step; he took only one step and froze in fear. Whatever Cerberus felt before heightened to the point he was shuddering from every bone, grasping his wand yet not able to move his legs.
The door at the end of the hallway opened slowly, cracking as in muggle horror stories. Whatever was inside was inviting him, luring him using curiosity as a main factor. Cerberus was known to be too curious for his own safety –afterall, that’s how Dumbledore brought him to teach Ophelia- and with a sudden surge of adrenaline, he moved. Each steps closer to the door felt like he was getting closer to death. His heartbeats quickened and mouth drained; blood was pumping incredibly fast through his body thus adrenaline heightening making him walk faster. But once facing the door, he realized there was nothing inside.
“Excuse me?”
Cerberus turned faster than he imagined possible, his wand ready to attack the intruder.
“Who are you?” He asked seeing how the little girl that appeared was clearly not Ophelia, “You scared the living deads out of me.” He added jokingly.
“Am I scary, mister?” The girl asked, her eyes widening, “Am I?” She repeated as she took slow steps towards him, “Am I a monster, sir?”
“Of-Of course not. Just, who are you?” Cerberus was confused.
The girl had the same green eyes as Ophelia but that bright red hair was definitely not hers. Then…
“Could you be Lillian?” Cerberus asked finally placing the pieces together. His eyes widened when the girl nodded and opened her mouth but no sound came. “How-What’s happening here?”
The girl, little Lillian, narrowed her eyes at the intruder making her look possessed. She screamed in agony before she fell dead on the ground. Cerberus hurried to her side but once he bent next to her, Lillian’s eyes opened and she grabbed his face before she whispered,
“Crucio,”
The door slammed open and Spinnard rushed inside followed by Dumbledore and Slughorn.
“Tend to Mister Knowingall, Horace. He needs medical attention as soon as possible,” Dumbledore told Slughorn who in return seemed frozen in place, “Horace,” Dumbledore repeated, finally grabbing his attention.
“Right, right. I’m on my way.”
Ophelia watched the animagus squirm on the ground in pain, having just been hit with a deadly curse. She didn’t know how it happened or what caused the shift in her memories.
“I see the snake has finally surfaced,” Spinnard grumbled in that personalized superior manner of his.
He was visibly judging her and he had every right to do so because Ophelia just attacked Cerberus Knowingall with the Cruciatus Curse and from the looks of it, there was no regret.
“I believe we can all agree that I was right and this time, you were wrong Dumbledore!” Spinnard yelled in delight as soon as they retreated for an urgent meeting in the headmaster’s office.
“It is not yet sure what happened in that classroom. I would like to-“
“It’s clear what happened. He entered her mind and she repelled him in the most unnecessary way! And you know why! It’s Tom.”
“Calm down, Spinnard. We don’t know that for sure. We can’t speculate on a little girl’s memories.” McGonagall interfered, glaring at her former student.
“You’re lying to yourselves! Tom has always been one step ahead and even if he hasn’t manipulated her yet, it will happen. We cannot change the facts: Tom is her father.” Spinnard spat out in anger. “I’m done with this charade. Coming here was a mistake and I intend to repair it. Knowingall will leave too. He only came back out of sense of justice for his former captain.”
It was all true and Dumbledore realized that from the moment he entered that classroom and saw Ophelia’s eyes. She was more like her father than any of them foresaw and it was troubling. Dumbledore shifted his attention on the black kitten that’s been lying on his desk with his eyes closed and sighed. From the looks of it, they were losing an important asset in the favor of family bonds.
“Psst! Pssssst! Psssssssst!”
Ophelia scratched her forehead, annoyed that even though everyone was sleeping, he was still awake.
“Psssst!”
“What, Black?” She hissed over her shoulder at the annoying student.
“We had a deal, remember?” He sounded incredibly pleased with himself which in return made her feeling even more annoyed, "It's time you do me the favor, partner."
Ophelia narrowed her eyes at the boy before she turned back to her notes. If only what she was writing about was the subject professor Binns was grumbling...
That day was slow, maybe because it was Thursday, which meant Friday was next with Potions and DADA. A majority of the unfortunate news that she found out have happened in three days.
Potions meant she had to partner up with either Remus or Snape because girls were too perceptive when working together. But she still had time to think who she should partner up with after all that effort from Rabastan.
Now that his name came across her mind, she remembered that rumor about Malfoy and Lestrange having a fight. When asked about his older brother, Rabastan sounded indifferent. It wasn't cold but it had the same tint as Tom when she asked him what business he had at Hogwarts.
Only thinking about the mysterious man and she took a glance at the people passing by. Halls were dangerous now with what she did to Cerberus.
"I wish it was Spinnard, though," She mumbled out loud.
It so happened that during the walk towards the common room, she saw Severus helping Lily carry some books up the marble stairs. It wasn't jealousy or disappointment or anything bad but it felt just like in the orphanage: no one would look twice at her if they didn't have any interest to obtain from their relationship.
"Move aside, mudblood,"
It was the most uncommon way in which she shrugged the memories off. It wasn't a surprise when she looked up at the one that just pushed her aside so rudely.
"Hey, Malfoy! Wait!"
Ophelia didn't know what came over her but she followed the Slytherin up the stairs even if he very visibly wanted to get rid of her.
"Wait I need to ask you something!" She shouted after him which turned a few curious heads.
Seeing how the only way to shut her up was actually letting her speak, Malfoy stopped and glared down at the second year.
"Do you miss the special treatment, Molley?" He asked with a scowl.
The girl frowned, not quite understanding what he meant.
"I want you to teach me dark arts too." She replied boldly.
Malfoy stared at her with the same expression, her words registering slowly in his mind. Those cold eyes widened when he realized what she asked in an open hallway and quickly grabbed her harshly by her arm.
"Wh-"
The blond dragged her down the corridor from the first floor and stopped when he was sure there was no one around
"Are you an idiot?! What bullocks are you spreading around the castle?!" The prefect lashed out, "Do you want me to take every single point from Gryffindor and turn the whole castle- no, the whole wizarding world against you?!"
"My parents are muggles. It wouldn't affect me that much."
Those words were incredibly bold coming from someone who felt like Hogwarts was home just a few days ago. Circumstances definitely changed and she had got the urge to practice what she wrote about for Spinnard's stupid lessons.
"I heard you are practicing the dark arts with a few others. I also heard about you and Lestrange. He's still pissed about that stone, isn't he?"
All those facts coming out her mouth were so true that it left Malfoy with only an expression of astonishment.
"You play stupid often, don't you? It seems it pays off well in the end." The blond retorted after finally remembering what position he was in at home. "The stone doesn't interest me anymore. Now keep your mouth shut if you don't want me to practice on you."
"Do it." Ophelia said quickly before he could leave, "Practice on me. I won't run or hide and I won't tell anyone about your group. I'm good at keeping secrets."
"It's not a secret. Everyone involved has made it clear that they want to follow his path." Malfoy answered over his shoulder before he left in a hurry.
Now, what was he even talking about?
Just like for the past three days, Ophelia missed half of the dinner feast and arrived so late that she only found Black at the table.
"Finally! We've got a lot of work, Molley!" He shouted loudly, not caring who could hear.
"What exactly do you want me to do?" She asked in a meek tone as she sat next to him. There were a few parchments in front of him as well as a quill.
"Where is the best place to write and not have anyone look over your shoulder?" He asked leaning towards her as if suddenly it became a secret.
"The library. There is a spot that no one approaches."
"You want me to sit on a cursed bench at a cursed desk? Want me to lose my charm or something?"
There wasn't much Ophelia knew about Black but seeing him so appalled made her feel pleased. He was usually full of energy and mischievousness, by his most perfect companion Potter's side. It never occurred to her that he would be the type to listen to rumors.
"You can stand and look over my shoulder if it makes you feel safer." She answered while sitting down and spreading the parchments around.
The boy sat in the next second across her with new found bravery. Ophelia chuckled but for her own gain, she didn't tease him. It was better to have him focus rather than ramble.
"What do you want me to do?"
Black bit his lip, thinking closely what exactly he wanted to convey. In the end, he looked up at her with deep black eyes and shrugged.
"What would you write to the person you hate the most?" He asked as he leaned back, growing comfortable.
"You want me to write something for Spinnard?"
Just like Potter, Sirius needed a moment to fully understand she could loosen up before he laughed. It was loud yet not as distinctive as Potter's, thankfully.
"Anyway, you want me to write a message to a person that you hate? Can't you just use Potter for the naughty job?"
It was obvious she was being serious yet Sirius laughed again, taking his sweet time to enjoy this rare moment.
"Yes, I want exactly that. Write a few words, in an elegant handwriting, for someone who is more despicable than Spinnard." Sirius finally gave her a real answer and a reason. "Make it so that the receiver of this letter will scream in anger and remember it for a few days." He continued, his voice and expression changing to 180 degrees.
"Alright."
Ophelia agreed without pestering him with more questions. However, when she took the quill and placed it on the parchment, she blocked. Everything she could hear resonating in her mind was the sentence that came from her father.
When Sirius peeked at what she was writing, he didn't expect her to literally pour her hatred in the letter. His eyes moved up on her face wondering just how much anger she was hiding behind that poker face.
It's my turn now.
"The address?" She asked after she folded it neatly.
"12 Grimmauld Place, Islington, London, England." He informed her, watching as she wrote it down.
"Whose address is it?"
It was just a more elegant way to ask who did she just piss off.
"Mine."
That Thursday proved to be so eventful.
ns 15.158.61.23da2
