My name is Ophelia 'Fee' Devereux . I am dead. I have been dead for 67 years today, the 13th of October.
On October the 12th of 1927, Ophelia Delwyn Devereux was born daughter to Lady Demetria Devereux and common class wizard Alexander Rourke. Born at twilight in small home in Devonshire by midwife Lirena. I am a witch. I was born in Devonshire and was educated here at the great Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This is also where I died.
I expect no sympathy nor do I wish any pity. Some may say I died young. That I had so much life ahead of me. I don't believe them. I believe I lived more life in my years at Hogwarts, the last four to be specific, than most people did in an entire lifetime.
I regret nothing.
Except one thing.
That I couldn't stop what he became. That I couldn't help him.
I don't blame myself enough to go so far as to think it is entirely my fault he became the way he did. I knew from the very began he was different, strange, and in some ways entirely mad. Nor am I conceited enough to think I could've completely turned him around. At one time I thought I could. Not anymore. Helped? Yes. Changed? Never. You cannot change the unchangeable.
For awhile I thought I'd made progress. Then I died. And then it all fell to pieces. Being dead gives you plenty of time to think. To dream. To remember. To see the world as it is now from a different point of view. I've seen what he's become and the things he's done and the people he's hurt. I've always been stubborn so I chose to remember him the way he was. He was always an unstoppable force.
This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object -
A SHAKESPEAREAN TRADGEDY
