Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter character's or anything related to the works of J.K Rowling. I only own the plot and any original characters you might notice. I have no beta-reader so if you noticed any errors, please let me know so I can fix them as soon as possible. I also do not own the John Keats poem used in this chapter.
Here soon, I'll have more of a regular/open schedule so that should help in posting chapters regularly. Also, to answer a question I spotted from in the reviews recently: Ophelia does still have her wand and is still able to do magic. Her explusion is more to do with the fact that she destroyed campus property and caused harm to Hogwart's golden boy-Tom Riddle-and to Edmund Campion, who is a good student. She got to ultimately keep her wand only because Tom and Edmund didn't suffer extreme injuiries and because she didn't completely destroy that portion of the corridors that whole deal took place in. It like a "you don't have to go without magic your whole life, but you can't practice it here' deal.
Hopefully, you guys enjoy this chapter-I think its longer than the usual chapters.
I want to say thank you to those readers who leave reviews and favorite and follow this series. It shows me that people are interested this story and that I should continue. Please,please,please leave some reviews if you can! Thank you much everyone, when you leave a review it lets me know readers are interested in this story and want me to continue. Thank you so much!
May 8, 1945
How many Royal Air Force soldiers did Ophelia kiss? Maybe there was even an American sailor wedged in between there. A crazy amount of happiness surged through Ophelia's viens, as she danced away and drank the night away in London.
Turning nineteen had done wonders for the half-blooded witch. Her hair that was once long enough to be put into a braid was now chopped off into an short bob in which her brown hair only reach the middle of her neck. She even had it slightly curled for the night. Ophelia's skin now had a perpetual tan from her increased time in Colorado and thanks to Ruth, Ophelia knew how to make a perfect lotion from fresh herbs that made her skin softer than ever.
She pulled her lips away from the Royal Air Force soldier. "Have a great rest of your evening, soldier." A drunk wink and grin was tossed from Ophelia to the stranger.
"Oh, stay with me." The soldier sweetly said. "The night's still young! My mates made plans to stop at Leicester Square tonight before hopping off and away on another bus somewhere. Come with me?"
"Sorry, love." Ophelia took a step back, and drunkenly pointed somewhere randomly in the pub she was currently celebrating at. "My cousin and his best mate, and his fiance is here. I got to show them around."
Ophelia walked with a drunken skip in her step away from the soldier as she blew him a meaningless kiss. The young witch easily found William first, chatting among a circle of pretty muggle girls.
Peter was playing billiards and smoking a cigar with a small group of soldier.
Margo. Ophelia stood up on a chair and scanned the entire room. If I was a pretty, blonde where would I be in a muggle bar I've never been to…
Ophelia had no idea where Margo would be, so from where she stood on the chair, she yelled over the music and chatter. "Margo! Margaret! Woo-hoo! Margo! Margaret Blaine!"
"Pipa, get down from there!" Margo almost appeared right by Ophelia's side and swatted the girl on the leg. "Get down, you're in a skirt."
Margo was undeniably sober but she just managed to wrangle herself away from a soldier she was dancing with. Margo's heart was pounding against her chest, her feet ached, and she finally caught her breath.
Ophelia ungracefully stepped down from the chair, and embraced her friend. "Are you having fun? You aren't drunk?"
Margo laughed it off. "Unlike you, I have class early tomorrow."
Oh, bollocks. Ophelia looked at the watch on her wrist. It was still set on Colorado's time since Ophelia was there only last week and she hadn't gotten around to adjusting the time. It's probably time to get them back anyways.
She grabbed Margo's hand and began to round up Peter and William and had her friend follow her five blocks away from the pub, down to an alley, and behind a closed pastry shop.
"Can you guys apparate back on your own?" Ophelia might have been too drunk to ask them if they were fine to go back on their own.
Peter arched an eyebrow at his friend, "We're fine to go back to Hogwarts on our own. Are you fine to go home?"
Ophelia looked at Peter with a look of slight shock. "Wait, you're sober too?"
William patted Ophelia on the shoulder. "They have class tomorrow and I have work with my father tomorrow at the Ministry."
"We were supposed to celebrate," Ophelia whined. "The war is over, you guys!" She ran her fingers through her short hair and sighed. "Well I guess you guys should apparate off then."
"And you," Margo asked. "How will you get home?"
"I'll take a cab home...Or a bus?" Ophelia smiled and waved her friend off. "Maybe I can walk?"
"Oh, Merlin." Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. Neither of them knew where exactly in the country Ophelia lived so they couldn't apparate her there. She also had never been to the Zolotov estate and she didn't speak Russian-so maybe staying with William even for the night would be too confusing for a hangover witch. "We'll have to let her stay in Hogwarts just for the night and sneak her out sometime early in the morning."
They all apparated off to where they needed to be.
"I am expelled!" Ophelia whispered as she tried to wiggle out of Peter and Margo's hold on her. "We can all get in trouble! You two can get expelled too!"
The two pure-blooded students ignored their friend and began to walk her closer to the castle.
"Wait, wait, wait." Ophelia still tried to reason with her friends. "Prefects! A prefect will see you two with me and you'll get in trouble!"
Margo sighed, "Pipa! It is fine! It is nearly three o'clock in the morning, there shouldn't be any prefects now."
"Sorry," Ophelia wrangled herself out of Peter and Margo's hold. "Not risking it!" The brunette started to run in the opposite direction of her friends. Away from the Hufflepuff common room and who knows where he drunk mind would take her. "I'll write to you both soon!"
"Pipa, no!" Peter yelled as he tried to catch up with her but she was already too far gone.
Margo cradled her face in her hands. Both the pure-blooded Hufflepuffs were way too sober to deal with this shit so late into the night
This is exciting, Ophelia thought to herself as she ran through the dark and empty halls of Hogwarts. Her mind too hazy and happy to understand that if she got caught, how much trouble she'd land in. The door that lead to the library stood in front of still yet inviting.
Ophelia let herself in and the familiar creak of the heavy and large doors, goosebumps covered her skin at the sound.
Tom Riddle quietly put the book he wasn't supposed to read back in the aisle of the restricted area. Not that it mattered-he couldn't even get the words to appear in the book for him to read. The handsome teen tiptoed carefully out of the book aisle and poked his head out and looked towards the doors.
At first he was going to ignore the odd coincidence but the distinct sound of a person vocalizing to the tune of 'In the Mood' by Airmen of Note was too hard to ignore. It did mean, Tom could easily control the situation. He let his ears lead the way to finding the source of the vocalizing.
Ophelia was standing on top of one of the many tables in the library and spinning in tiny circles around on the small surface area. Some light from the moon hit on the surface of the moon and it landed just perfectly on the half-blooded witch's body.
The heir of Slytherin almost froze in his steps when he saw the source of the noise. Tom recognized her as soon as he laid eyes on the figure.
How did she even get into…? Tom quickly ignored the question in his mind and walked up to close to the table where Ophelia still spun in tiny circles. "I'd take twenty points from Hufflepuff, but you're not even supposed to be in here anymore."
Ophelia stopped her drunken spinning and immediately got down from the table. At first she almost didn't recognize that voice, it sounded much deeper than the last time she heard it. "Leaving now." Ophelia quickly said as she made her way towards the today. "Sorry. Have a blessed night!"
Did you just tell Tom Riddle to have a blessed night?
"You cut your hair." Tom noted. His brown eyes raked over her body carefully. "You've also gotten a tan."
"You've gotten taller." Ophelia replied back. Her eyes drank him just like she drank a gallon worth of gin rickey. Still handsome as ever, she thought sadly to herself. With that ugly side hidden deep down inside him.
"Taller?" Tom scoffed. "That's all I get out of you? Taller?" How deep of you to notice. "All you can say is that? No, 'how are you, Tom?' or 'how are your studies?' All you can comment on is my outward appearance?" Typical of her.
Ophelia combed her hair with her fingers. "You commented on only my outward appearance, I commented on yours."
"Have fun drinking, did you?" Tom snapped. "Since the muggle war is all over now. You can continue to live in your comfortable magic-less world knowing your dirty world is safe." Each word that came out his mouth was meant to hurt and belittle her.
Ophelia felt bitterness bubble inside her and a part of her wanted to hurt Tom. Hurt him good at least once-or at the very least, get under his skin.
"It is your world too, Tom. Remember, the orphanage car that came around the station to pick you up and drop you off? That was in the muggle world." Ophelia looked Tom with a cold and steady gaze accompanied by a drunk and cheap smirk. "And yes, I did have fun drinking. I had even more fun kissing the handsome men who served for their country."
You whore! Tom's eyes widened in shock, not because of what Ophelia said to him. He was more shocked about the immediate reaction his heart had to what she said. "You're lying!" He took a step towards Ophelia and grabbed her by the shoulders. "You're just fucking lying, Ophelia."
The half-blooded witch brought her hands up to Tom's face, she was still under the influence of everything she drank. I want to see...see who he really is. Ophelia began to speak in the Navajo language to begin the spell.
What the bloody hell? Tom didn't pull away from the former Hogwarts student, he was interested in what she was up to. A cold chill rushed through every vessel in Tom's body.
Ophelia opened her eyes and saw a very faint dark light radiate off Tom's body. Almost too faint… A sudden surge of emptiness hit Ophelia's sense….It's as if…
She removed her hands off Tom's face and stepped back from the Slytherin student. Her drunk haze had cleared and full sober clarity had taken over. It's as if he doesn't really have a soul.
It scared Ophelia beyond her limits and beyond what her original fear of Tom used to be. He must have done something terrible...Utterly, unforgivably, truely fucking terrible.
"I have to go." Ophelia's voice was nearly trembling. She took a few more steps back, then broke out into a fast paced walk before finally breaking into a full run. I just have to make it to Hogsmeade and I can apparate and I'll be safe in bed.
Tom nearly chased after Ophelia but he knew that would only make her run even faster. She knows something...Tom was sure of it. A small part of his humanity that lingered hoped that whatever it is Ophelia knew from her fancy spell, it wasn't related to the Horcruxes he's made or the Horcruxes he was planning to make...He might have to really hurt her.
May 15, 1945
Everything was hot and close to miserable. Gregory Darwin was almost starting to regret his idea to visit the far away Pacific that had been clawed by the hands of World War II. There were scattered pieces of that terrible war still present on the island.
"Pipa," Gregory Darwin called out for his granddaughter from under the shade of a large palm tree, where sand was cool and not scorching hot. "Please, wait in the shade until we meet our guide."
"It's not that hot, Poppa." Ophelia stood out on a beach, with her feet planted in the shallow end as little waves tickled her feet. The rays of the sun felt wonderful on her back.
"You should listen to your elders." A voice in the wind called out.
Ophelia turned around but didn't see anyone around her. She saw that her Poppa was still under the shade of a palm tree. "Is anyone there?" She whispered and turned around again.
"I am here." The voice replied. "As my ancestors and their ancestors before them and so on and so forth."
"So can I see you?" Ophelia asked back. She wondered if maybe the heat of the sun and lack of being hydrated was starting to fry her brain.
"Turn slow and you'll see me."
Carefully, she turned around and saw who she assumed was their guide to the island. A man who looked to be in his forties with short and curly pitch black hair and beautiful brown skin stood in front of Ophelia. Ophelia noted how even though the older man was quite handsome-his eyes caught her attention. Instead of this man's eyes being blue, green, brown, or hazel-his eyes were white. Only white.
"Are you the guide?" Ophelia asked as she tried to took around for a walking stick or cane of any sort that helped this man get around.
The man smiled. "I am. My name is Kane. You must be Ophelia Darwin and your grandfather by the palm tree is Gregory Darwin I take it?"
Ophelia nodded. She carefully shifted her gaze around. "Are you also-?"
"Supposed to teach you magic?" Kane nodded his head. "Yes, I am." He then added, "By the way, we need to work on blocking your mind off-you're too easy to read. I know you have a question, but if you want to ask it then just ask it."
"R-right." Ophelia nodded her head but she was unsure if asking her question would make her seem extremely rude or not.
"So are you going to ask it?" Kane asked back. "Or do you need me to ask and answer it for you?"
"So…" Ophelia sighed feeling incredibly uncomfortable with herself. "Are you blind or are your eyes just...like that?"
"Blind." Kane announced happily. "But don't worry-I know how to see without them. I'll teach you how to do that as well."
Ophelia tilted her head off to side and a concerned look came to her face. "Am I going to be blind too?"
A bark of laughter erupted from Kane's lips. "You're a funny one. No you won't be blind too." He pointed over to Gregory Darwin, who still sat in the cool shade of a palm tree. "Let's grab him and go. You'll be staying with my sister, her family, and myself during you time here."
Gregory Darwin was more than happy to move from under a palm tree to a house with a roof over his head, a cold drink in his hand, and a fan blowing cold air in his face.
May 19, 1945
Tom never minded prodding around for any type of information he wanted or needed. Especially not when his future was involved. He remembered how at Margo and Peter's engagement party the heir of Hufflepuff was somewhere in the mix among all the other purebloods.
It means Margo has connections...Tom rubbed his eyes as he tossed in bed; the sheets felt silky and cold to the touch but he couldn't get comfortable. A part of it could have been because he was still bothered by the thought of Ophelia carelessly kissing other men-muggle men no less. Tom tried his best to focus on anything else.
He couldn't remember exactly what the descendant of Helga Hufflepuff's name was but he almost sure it started with 'H' as well.
If Tom was lucky enough, he could get close to who ever the descendant of Hufflepuff was. Another descendant of the four wizards who made Hogwarts his home. Who knows what goodies would be lying around that home of hers. Tom smirked at the thought of all the riches a spoiled and wealthy pure-blood could have. He looked down at ring that adorned his finger, its presence strong in and ominous. The one and only Slytherin's ring.
A part of Tom had a strong fucking inkling that whoever this descendant was-she had a thing or two he wanted.
Tomorrow: start making friends with Margo Blaine and Peter Elwood. Tom yawned and closed his eyes. Try to secure a invite for their wedding. Scoop for more info on Hufflepuff descendant...Hopefully, I won't have to find a date for the damn thing.
May 20, 1945
"Give up my wand?" Ophelia wasn't sure she heard right and she hesitantly held out her wand to Kane. "Can't I at least have it on me though?"
"No." Kane snatched the wand out of her grip and placed it on a shelve where his sister kept a collection of seashells. "You might have needed it in Hogwarts but you do not need it here. Do you see me with a wand?"
"Well, no but-." Ophelia stopped before she got ahead of herself. She didn't want to say something in a rush and come off as inconsiderate, ignorant, and insensitive. "But I need my wand. What if I need to apparate?"
"You won't." Kane stated firmly. He grabbed two hats made out of palm fronds, he tossed one hat at Ophelia before putting his on. "Stay close to me."
It smells like freshly cut grass, Ophelia smiled to herself as the scent of her hat seemed to grow stronger in the heat of the sun. "So where are we going, Kane?"
"The cemetery." He answered easily as he walked on a dirty road, careful to avoid anything that would trip him up.
Sometimes Ophelia forgot he was blind. The brunette picked up her speed so she could walk side by side with her new teacher. "Why the cemetery?"
A small look of sorrow slapped itself on Kane's face, cutting deep wrinkles in his otherwise perfect and brown skin. "I visit my wife and my son's graves every day when my day begins."
Ophelia felt a rich amount of guilt all over her conscience. I need to keep my mouth shut.
"No." Kane sighed. "You do not need to keep your mouth shut. You need to ask questions to learn-and now you learned that I lost my family during the war that was waged here."
"Will this be my first lesson with you?" Ophelia asked quietly as she saw tombstones only fifteen feet away from where they were. The distance shortened as they kept walking. "Learning about loss?"
Kane nodded. "Magic does not always comes from a good and happy place. Sometimes magic is rooted in sadness, or anger, desperation, or in my case loss." He pointed to his eyes, "I was never able to see, but I survived because magic is what helped me make up for that ability that was lost on me." Kane's white eyes looked right into Ophelia's green eyes. "You've lost Hogwarts but you'll learn because magic isn't in the wand or just in that school."
"Because it's in me?" Ophelia wasn't sure if her answer was right.
Kane smiled and little at her words. "Exactly because it is in you." He then turned his attention to two plain white graves. He placed a hand on the grave that had a carved impression of what looked like to a hibiscus. "Ophelia please meet my wife, Akiko." Kane then removed his hand from the first grave and placed on the grave right next to it, "and Kento, my son."
Suddenly, the guilt that Ophelia felt earlier was completely destroyed. Only to be replaced with immense heartbreak for her teacher. Judging from their names-Kane's family was Japanese-and hadn't she heard something gruesome about what Japanese citizens did when the lost the war on either news or a radio broadcast-and if they had died during the war then…?
Then, Ophelia thought as she tried to keep herself from crying… then did they jump off a cliff like that report said?
"What you're feeling, that heartbreak," Kane said, "Is a dangerous state of mind. Never cast a spell when you're in that emotion."
"Why?" Ophelia sniffed as the tears did fall down her face. "Why?"
"Because that spell will only come off as nothing but a curse." Kane stated calmly. "A very ugly and irreversible curse."
June 19, 1945
Margo didn't like her brother's girlfriend-plain and simple. No, Selene Sharpe was not particularly evil or too much of a bitch towards Margo, or Peter, or even towards Edmund. No.
Margo did remember how much Selene was a bitch towards Ophelia and for that Margo was already sure she could never like the red headed beauty who maybe could hold a candle to the blonde witch's smile.
Though now, now Margo was sure she absolutely loathed Selene to an extent beyond humanly possible. I cannot believe Peter and Edmund left us alone in a train compartment together!
"So are you saying it's not okay for me to wear white on your wedding day, Margo?" Selene asked coyly with what many men would call a stunning smile-but Margo decided it was more of a shit eating grin.
"That is precisely what I am saying, Sharpe." Margo said trying not to let her anger get the best of her. "It is my wedding day on the twenty-ninth. I wear white."
"Well, you see Margo white is my absolute best color to wear during the summer." Selene's tone sounded as if she was trying to reason with a child who was wrong and she was in the right. "How about this: you have a wedding gown in any color besides white! It's so forward thinking and everyone will be talking about how bold your choice is!"
The compartment door slid open, Peter and Edmund came back with snacks in their possession.
"Our last ride on the Hogwarts Express," Peter sighed as he took his seat by Margo. "I'll miss it all so much."
Edmund chimed in, "So what were you two girls talking about."
Selene gave Edmund a quick kiss on the cheek before talking. "Margo's willing to wear a differently colored wedding dress so I can wear white on that day!" Selene smiled her annoying perfect smile as she shot a side glance at Margo.
"Really, how nice." Edmund quipped with a tone of forced happiness for his girlfriend. Oh shit!
Peter felt dread boil in the pit of his stomach. "Margo," He whispered in a tone that would hopefully soothe Margo. "I can deal with this."
Margo ignored her fiance and her half-brother. If anyone else, anyone, was allowed to wear white on her wedding day-it wasn't fucking wasn't Selene Sharpe.
"Listen here, bitch." Margo started out evenly. "I don't care if you're shaggin' my brother, I don't even care if he marries you and makes you a permanent fixture in our family." Margo pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the red head. Her tone was steady and laced with velvet smooth class that only a true lady who almost always got her way would have. "You come to my wedding in white, I will cut you."
A pissy look came on Selene's face as she pouted and huffed for the remaining duration of the train ride home.
Peter and Edmund decided it was best to no longer have Selene and Margo by themselves alone in the train compartment.
At least William isn't here to egg anyone on further, Peter thought as he munched on a licorice wand. He carefully offered Margo a chocolate frog and nearly flinched as his bride-to-be snatched it out of his hand.
Fucking hell, Edmund told himself as he read through the Daily Prophet.
June 21, 1944
Ophelia's eyes were closed behind the blindfold to mimic a complete loss of sight-her feet were steady on the hot, hot sand. It was noon, the tide was low, the sun glared down on everyone, while her grandfather watched on with a frozen treat in his hand along with some of Kane's nieces and nephews to keep him company in the shade of a coconut tree.
Ophelia's learned how to see even without her eyes-at first it took her a couple of days to get the spell right. It was very similar to having an out of body experience or looking at yourself from the eyes of a stranger. She had been practicing to a point where if she focused hard enough, she could see up to forty five feet away from where she was.
The most amazing thing though and what Ophelia Mae Darwin enjoyed the most about her lessons with Kane: she wasn't so dependent on a wand. She was getting better at wandless magic.
Kane was in the shallow end of the ocean, a wooden carving of a fish in his hands and a fishing net tossed over his left shoulder. "Come and fish with me."
Ophelia walked over Kane and held her hand out, the lightweight of the wooden fish. She traced her thumb over the fish's little carved eyes before placing it in the ocean.
"Find and bring me what I need." Ophelia channeled her focus onto the wooden fish, so much so she began to see through the empty eyes of the fish. She applied more of her energy into the fish, to a point where it felt like her body was submerged in the water.
The wooden fish began to move and bob up and down with the motions of the waves until finally it began to swim out and away in to the sea-as if it was a real fish. Ophelia saw everything as if she was a fish too. The pretty colors of the coral reef, the seahorses, sea turtles and octopus that swam around until she spotted a small school of red snapper fish.
Roughly thirty minutes later, Kane, his family, Ophelia and her Poppa walked from the beach to the village where their home (or home for the time being in the British visitor's case) to either fry, barbeque, bake, or maybe even curry the armful of red snapper fish that was caught.
June 25, 1945
Ophelia's breathing was irregular as felt both Kane and her Poppa try to pry into her mind. Imagine being spiked in the head by claws, and those claws trying to split a head open to get to a brain.
Occlumency was harder than Legilimency, it gets extremely grueling after four hour session with no wand.
She could tell when her Poppa was prodding into her mind the old man tried to push poems in her head.
'...Faded the flower and all its budded charms...Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes…'
When Kane was prodding into her mind, all she heard was a child's laughter and sometimes she even heard a woman's laugh.
While they weren't inflicting bad, ugly, painful things onto her mind-Ophelia still had to block them off.
Ophelia took in a shaky breath and focused on how she wanted quiet in her mind. She first worked on tuning out the poems and the sounds of laughter before she tried to focus on finding the center of her soul (much like Ruth had taught her). Ophelia quieted her thoughts, ignored any feelings she have had in this moment-over and over and over again...Until everything was all quiet.
No poems by John Keats in her head, no sounds of happy laughter from Kane's late family. Just silence.
Ophelia opened her pale her greens and let out a tired sigh before falling backwards onto a mat made out of palm fronds in the center of the house.
"I want a nap," Ophelia stated with her voice sounding far away, flat, and empty. Being out on an island with constant exposure to the sun and swimming in the warm ocean waters, the British witch had a tan that Margo would call "fashionable" and "very Italian". At this moment Ophelia was pale-almost as pale as salt. She clutched at the roots of her brown hair, a massive headache spanned in and around her forehead.
"You deserve a drink." Poppa replied back, a small hand fan (also made from a palm frond) was in Poppa's hands as he tried to cool himself down. "I believe we all do."
Kane let out a happy sigh. For a brief moment he wasn't sure if Ophelia would have completed the Occlumency spell, Kane was so sure she'd failed at it. "I'm surprised, for a while there I didn't think you'd pull through."
Ophelia groaned and only listed a few more things she wanted. "I want something sweet. I want to swim in to ocean for about ten minutes. I also want licorice."
Kane ignored his student. "Remember, my family is having a small party tonight for your departures. So please be ready by then."
Poppa beamed like a child on Christmas. "Is your sister baking banana bread?"
Kane nodded. "As you requested, my friend."
"Will there be drinks?" Poppa then asked.
Kane smiled. "Enough to get a whole herd of cows drunk."
Ophelia sighed, knowing full well that she was being ignored. "Someone better teach me how to make a flower crown." She vaguely remembered Margo saying how she wanted a flower crown on her wedding day-then Ophelia remember how Margo specifically stated she wanted made by hand and not with magic. Some bullshit about it having more meaning if her best friend made it for her-like she did with the dreamcatcher-by hand.
Back to England, Ophelia closed her eyes and relaxed her body. Sleep easily crashed on the half-blooded witch. Her body weak and limp from the most challenging spell she'd ever had to learn, but she did it.
Ophelia Mae Darwin had turn out to be a fine witch, maybe not the best or the greatest. Her name won't ever be listed in a History of Magic textbook as Ophelia Darwin being a force to be reckoned with or her coming up with the ultimate 'end all and be all' spell. Though, damn, did she do the best with what she had and was a perfectly fine witch in her own right because of it.