A young woman of about twenty walked swiftly down the cobblestone street with a suitcase in hand. It was early January and a light snow was falling from the sky. In the light of day, the houses that lined the street appeared to have the same structure, all rather quaint and small. Each one was spaced an equal amount apart from the others with backyards that bloomed green in the spring. At this point, all of the homes had lights on inside and out. She smiled into the green and silver scarf around her neck at the sight of Christmas lights and trees.
Towards the end of the street stood number nine that had dark red curtains that hid the inside of the home from view of outsiders. The woman approached the house, smiling at the wreath perched upon the white door. She climbed the three stone steps that led to it, but before she could knock, the door opened just a crack and allowed a sliver to fall upon her chocolate eye. From what she could tell, a black eye was staring down at her.
"Who comes?" a man drawled from the opposite side of the door. When she didn't answer, the eye narrowed. "Well?"
She sighed heavily. "Opal," she replied, smacking a glove covered hand to her forehead as the door closed again.
The door open slowly to reveal a lanky man with greasy, black hair that hung around his face. A small smile was perched upon his lips. "My sweet," he said with arms open for her. "So lovely to see you."
"Dad." She fell into his embrace, burying her face into his neck. "I've missed you." Her arms wrapped tight around his back. "How's Mum?"
She felt him snort. "Insane."
"Sounds about right," she chuckled, pulling away from the hug to step into the house. "Have you told her yet?" The man picked up his daughter's bag and carried it through the doorway after her. "Where is she?"
He glanced about the street cautiously before slowly pushing the door closed. "She was preparing some tea the last I saw her." With that, he traveled into the next room to most likely continue reading a book. "Don't do anything foolish, Opal."
"Of course not, father," she answered, pulling off her coat and scarf. "Of course not."
"Opal?" another woman's voice came from the kitchen. A clattering of metal came from the room. "Darling!" A tall, thin woman came rushing from the kitchen. Her dark curls were a mess, literally falling whichever way they pleased. Regardless, she had a beauty about her. "How are you?" She kissed both of the young woman's cheeks and then took a step back to look her up and down. "You're looking lovely. Would you care for some tea? I just heated the water."
"You allowed the kettle to fall, Bellatrix."
She glared in the direction of the sitting room. "This doesn't concern you, Severus," she hissed. Her warm demeanor returned as she turned back. "Come." She flitted back into the kitchen happily.
"You weren't kidding," Opal breathed as she passed through the room where her father was sitting. Although she couldn't see his face past the paper he was focused on, she was sure he was wearing the slight smile he always wore when he was amused. She held her left hand in her right as if she were wringing her hands out of anxiousness. "She's lost any of the marbles she may have had left."
"Darling, I can't seem to recall how you-" She stopped at the doorway between the kitchen and the sitting room. Her dark eyes were focused on Opal's hands. "What is that?"
She looked down to find a ring peeking out between two open fingers. "A ring," she answered plainly, closing the gap between her fingers. "Why is it you ask?"
"You didn't." The older woman's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."
"Wouldn't what?"
"Bellatrix," a warning tone came from the sitting room.
"It's that Potter boy, isn't it?" Bellatrix's grip on the teacup she was holding went white-knuckled. "You've up and decided to marry the eldest Potter boy, haven't you? That filthy, little blood traitor."
"Don't you dare call him that, mother," Opal growled, leaning slightly towards the floor. "Don't you dare."
"I shall call him whatever I please, girl!" the older of the two snapped back as she tossed the cup in her hand at the younger. "You awful child!"
"Protego!" An invisible shield erupted from Opal's wand and wrapped itself around her. "You're mad! You're a mad woman!" The porcelain cup shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces against the shield. "And highly lacking any reasoning what so ever!"
"No daughter of mine will marry any sort of blood traitor!" Bellatrix roared while reaching for another cup. "I would never allow that to happen! I will never let my grandchildren be from such scum!"
"Honesty woman, you call yourself a mother?" With a wand held high to protect herself, Opal retreated towards the door. "You're doing a terrible job of it."
"Why, you ungrateful, little brat!"
Another teacup flew through the air towards Opal, but this time it stopped midair. "Now, now," Severus began. He walked across the room leisurely until he reached the floating cup, which he simply grasped in his hand. "Bella, we mustn't throw the good china at our child."
"Are you suggesting that I hex her instead?" A questioning brow rose. "If so, I would be more than happy to carry out that plan. It requires much-"
Opal rolled her eyes. "What have I said for so many years?" She glanced over at her father, who had slowly been moving towards the kitchen until that very moment. "This woman is a horrible, awful mother to me. First she throws teacups at me, and then she threatens to hex me. It's unbelievable!"
"You are the most sickening creature on this planet, girl!" Bellatrix stormed towards her daughter, stopping once they were nose to nose. "You are the most ungrateful daughter anyone could have possibly bestowed upon me! You… you are just like that dreadful father of yours! All you do is disobey and turn away from any sort of mothering I've tried to give you. Instead, you've gone to the library with him! You're blessed to have a nose resembling mine rather than that terrible thing that has attached itself to his head, and this is how you repay me! By marrying a blood traitor! Inconceivable!"
A smug grin formed on Opal's face. "If I'm that rotten of a daughter, maybe you should have considered who you mated with first," she replied calmly with her breath hitting her mother's face with every syllable.
Bellatrix's lips twitched in anger. She had no snippy comeback, and she knew that was the motive behind the last comment made. "You're absolutely rotten," she sneered, stomping away from the younger woman and up the stairs.
"You're absolutely no different!" Opal called back to her mother cheerily. "Well, I feel that was a well-deserved victory. Is there any warm water left for tea?"
Severus stood in the kitchen setting teacups back into their spots in the cupboard. "You are more than welcome to help yourself," he responded with a flick of his wand. The cream and sugar quickly floated towards the countertop, landing quietly upon the surface.
"Thank you." She reached past him to take the newly reconstructed teacup. "Lovely work on this." Hot water from the metal kettle poured into the cup without her touch, followed by a teabag, the cream, and then finally the sugar. Without the use of magic, she pulled a spoon from a nearby drawer to stir the contents of her tea and coax the flavor out of the small bag.
"She adores you," he stated after the brief pause in conversation, lifting her teabag out of the water in her cup. "Your mother, that is." She simply stared at him in wonderment as he sent the teabag to the bin across the room. "She goes on and on about your greatness with your Aunt Narcissa." Her eyes followed him when he left the room. "And I know that you like your tea obscenely weak."
"My own mother doesn't even know that," she mumbled while she continued to stir.
"Despicable," he said.
She nodded in agreement. "Despicable."