"She had something to confess to

But you don't have the time so

Look the other way

You will wait until it's over

To reveal what you'd never shown her

Too little much too late "

-"Muscle Museum", Muse

Showbiz

Chapter Twelve

A/N: Here we are at the second last chapter of the story! Wow, I can't believe we are nearing the end of the third instalment! This is crazy, and so are you guys! I love all of you and your support and questions! I've had a few people ask me about Ophelia's patronus lately, so I will be adding a little scene for you guys in the next chapter! Enjoy and review!

Scene Continued:

Ophelia immediately reached out to grab Luna's hand. She clutched it tightly, feeling her throat clasp as her breath left her.

"What is it, Ophelia?" Luna inquired in her soft Irish brogue.

Ophelia dropped Luna's hand, and began to walk to the other side of the Great Hall, ignoring Luna's words. Her head was spinning, and she was beginning to feel faint.

After everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, she should be immune to tragedy. But all she felt was nauseous and confused. This couldn't be right…could it?

She knelt down next to the body, and pressed her hand against the wrist. No pulse. None.

Hannah Abbot had stepped next to her, and was spreading a sheet over the body.

"Don't," Ophelia commanded, peeling the sheet back. Her head was pounding.

Hannah placed a sympathetic hand on Ophelia's shoulder, and moved on. Though the girl probably wanted to comfort Ophelia, there were other patients to attend to. If Ophelia weren't so distraught, she'd be proud of Hannah.

Poppy Pomfrey had had a child late in life. She was sixty years old, though she'd aged well. You could see the stress lines along her forehead, and crow's feet pulled at her dark brown eyes. Where had Ophelia gotten her blue eyes from? Apparently her father's had been brown too.

Ophelia slowly closed those brown eyes, and held back a sob. This time it was Luna who put a hand on Ophelia's shoulder. When Ophelia didn't respond, Luna knelt down beside her.

"I'm sorry, Ophelia," Luna whispered, "she was an amazing woman."

"She was…," Ophelia shook her head, "was…?"

"She died saving so many innocent people tonight," Luna added, giving Ophelia a look of concern.

"I-," Ophelia cleared her throat, "I'm sorry," she stood up, "It's just a lot to process. Harry defeats Voldemort, my mother is dead, and Snape…,"

Luna raised her eyebrows at Ophelia. No one knew about Snape.

"One problem at a time," Luna soothed, "I will help you. Anything you want, Ophelia."

Ophelia nodded, her stomach churning.

—

Ophelia found Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting on the edge of the bridge. Someone had told her that she'd find them there- she'd forgotten who. Everything seemed like a blur to her.

The bridge had been practically destroyed; large chunks out of the walkway were missing and the railing was nearly inexistent. The three teenagers sat next to each other on the edge, their legs swinging rhythmically to the tune of the wind.

Ophelia paused to watch them for a moment. They made a good trio; The Golden Trio, she'd heard them called.

Ophelia gently cleared her throat, and Hermione turned around.

"Ophelia!" She cried, and gestured for her friend to join her.

Ophelia was hesitant at first, though she didn't know why. Hermione nodded, giving her a warm smile, in spite of it all, and Ophelia sat next to her.

"Where have you been? We were worried about you!" Hermione put an arm around her. Part of Ophelia wanted to squirm free, and run away as fast as she could- change her name, dye her hair, forget about everything. But part of her welcomed the human touch; the sense of intimacy was appreciated. It made her feel warm where she'd been cold since she'd lost her child.

"I had something to deal with…," Ophelia trailed off. For reasons she couldn't name, she didn't want to tell them about her mother yet. It felt private, in a world where nothing was. She wanted to own this secret, even just for a while.

"What have you got there?" Ophelia nodded at the object in Harry's lap.

"It's the Elder Wand," Ron answered for him, "and Harry's been thinking what he should do with it."

Ophelia knew exactly what Harry would do with it, because she and Harry were the same that way. Harry didn't need to say the words, before he'd snapped it in half and thrown it off the bridge.

Ron had a look of pain in his eyes, and Hermione, although supportive, was shocked.

"It had to be done," was all Harry said.

Ron laughed, and thew back his arms in a well-deserved stretch.

"What now?" Hermione asked. A valid question.

Ophelia didn't know where to begin. In the dawn of the new day, she wanted to be optimistic. All they'd been fighting for, these last two years, had been achieved. But so many had been lost along the way.

"I need your help," Ophelia suddenly said, surprising herself.

"Anything," Harry said at once. Just like Luna.

"I need you to help me move Snape…Severus, back up to the castle. It will take at least all four of us, but it needs to be done soon. I…I need him to be okay."

"I understand," Harry nodded. After all, Harry knew more about Severus' story than Ophelia did.

"He's the only one I have left…," Ophelia admitted. Maybe it was better that she didn't keep the secret.

"What do you mean?" Hermione frowned.

"My mother…she's dead," Ophelia said the words aloud, tasting them like copper in her mouth.

A/N: Sorry that this is so short! The next chapter will be much longer! By the way guys- this isn't the end of this series, in case you thought it was! No no no no, I have much more planned for Ophelia and friends. I actually recently thought of a VERY interesting storyline centred around Ophelia's identity and family…that's all I'll say for now. Look forward to talking to you guys again soon! Please feel free to review or PM me with questions/suggestions, etc. :)