Chapter 118 - ch 19-21

Chapter 19: Winter QueenChapter TextOphelia deals with a revelation… and Albus Dumbledore.

This'll be the first real look into what this Dumbledore is wholly like. You've seen snippets and obviously they don't paint a good picture. Well, they're not inaccurate.

CW: Trauma, Child Abuse Mention, Emotional Manipulation & Gaslighting

~~~~~Ophelia~~~~~

Winter Queen

~~~~~Ophelia~~~~~

March 7th, 1995

"Hey!" Lavender called out to Ophelia, startling her a little. She'd not wholly gotten used to the other girl's energy and optimism. She honestly doubted Hermione had, either - and her sister had been dorming with Lavender for nearly four years now.

"Oh, hey Lavender," Ophelia replied as she looked up from her notes. She'd just had a bit of a breakthrough on her project thanks to the relative peace of the pseudo-studying-room she'd organized. Really it was just an abandoned classroom she'd repurposed and warded to make sure it was only accessible to herself. Of course, she'd keyed in most of her friends in case of emergencies - and being dormmates, she'd keyed in Lavender and the other Gryffindor girls since they'd be the most likely ones to know if something had happened to Hermione.

Of course, Lavender being Lavender, she wasted very little time using the opportunity to gossip.

"Oooh, what are you working on?" Lavender asked with seemingly-genuine curiosity as she looked over at Ophelia's notes. Her eyes glazed over a little, though, "Okay, ow– that makes my brain hurt worse than Hermione's stuff, and I've been getting tutored by her for four years."

Ophelia smiled a little ruefully, "I've just sorted out some details on a project I've been working on. I'm trying to create an Intuitive Brewing Station. You know how sometimes when you brew a potion, the textbook or Professor Snape's instructions don't always match up to what makes sense?"

Lavender blinked, "Er… if you say so."

Ophelia felt her cheeks pink, "Ah. It's sort of a cooking thing, I guess. There's just methods that would be more effective. What I'm trying to do is basically invent a brewing station that'll guide people based on my own methods. I'm sure you've noticed that Hermione and I tend to have really good potions?"

Lavender snorted as she sat down, though she was careful not to disturb the notes. "Ah, right - the two brightest witches of our age, having really good potions." She gave Ophelia a deadpan look that made her flush deepen.

"R-right, anyway. I use my methods and the colour and effects are always better than what Professor Snape asks for. I'm basically going to record my practices and such into the Brewing Station so that it tells you which method of preparing an ingredient is best for a potion. I mean, if you use grated Bicorn Horn in Anti-Burn Salve instead of powdered, it becomes more potent - that type of thing! Like an… an… an 'auto-correction' feature!" Ophelia explained, becoming more animated as she went. This would be a really useful invention, though she'd need to run it by Professor Snape first at some point to make sure her methods are sound.

Lavender frowned, "Okay… but how would it tell us?"

Ophelia beamed, "That's the best part! I'm planning on installing a sort of chalkboard or something - haven't really figured it out yet on what material I'll use, honestly - but what it'll do is pretty simple. You just - before you start brewing - search through the provided Rolodex of Potions and take out the card for what you want to brew. Slip it into the slot… here," she pointed to a little slot at the front of the brewing station in her design notes. "Then the chalkboard or whatever would magically display instructions! I'm just not sure if it would be better to enchant the cards with the instructions or the station itself. The cards would probably be the more logical option, though - since that way I don't have to overload the station with information. But if the material for the cards is too flimsy, it won't hold so much magical data well…"

Lavender blinked repeatedly before she shook herself, "Uh… okay… so it's like a built-in textbook, I guess?"

Ophelia flushed, "Well… in basic terms, yes. Not as complex as my satchel, I guess."

"Your satchel?" Lavender asked cautiously.

Ophelia picked up the bag and set it on the table before she opened up the main pocket. Lavender's eyes went as wide as saucers as she saw what Ophelia knew to be the cavernous depths within, "I had to enchant the entrance to basically transfigure itself to grow when putting in or pulling out something too big, but it worked out in the end. I've got about twenty rooms in there. A library, a brewing room, a greenhouse… The artificial atmosphere was a mess to organize, not to mention the climate adjustment features for the greenhouse itself. Plus the hot mess that was trying to organize the runes so that– Lavender your eyes are glazing over again."

"Gah!" Lavender shook herself and looked sheepish, "Sorry, sorry. Just… Merlin, that bag is huge! Uh, on the inside. How long did this take?"

Ophelia thought for a moment, "Hmm… the enchantment process itself took around three hours, but all the planning and troubleshooting and stuff beforehand took around seven months."

Lavender gawked before she shook her head, "Merlin, maybe that nickname doesn't do you justice…"

Ophelia raised an eyebrow as she set her satchel aside and started gathering her papers. She'd banish them to her study inside the satchel in a moment, but what Lavender said niggled at her. "Nickname? What, 'Ophie'?"

Lavender grinned, "Not exactly. You know how Daphne's called 'Ice Queen' because when she isn't with friends she's really cold, frosty and scary?" Ophelia nodded, and Lav continued. "Right. Well, Miss 'I threaten grown adults for my best friend'-" Ophelia turned a rather impressive shade of scarlet "-you've been officially labeled 'Winter Queen' because of how much you terrified basically all of Hogwarts."

Ophelia spluttered for a moment, "I– wh– Winter Queen?" Her voice squeaked out as she tried to figure out why that would be her nickname. It didn't make sense. She was… well, Ophelia! She wasn't impressive at all– wait, would that qualify as tearing herself down? She gave an inward grimace and decided to deflect her own self-admonishment. "Why? Like, why is that my nickname?"

Lavender hummed as she pulled out a compact and checked her appearance, but she replied without pause, "Well, when you came out of the tent, you were scarilyangry. Not that it comes as much of a surprise - I mean, your bestie was in danger!" She seemed really put-out as she closed her compact, "Honestly, I'd probably be just as mad if someone risked Parvati's life! Anyway, when you came out, things got… weird. Dunno if it was your magic or what, but it got really cold and everything felt dark. Nobody else could talk, and everyone's bodies felt weak. It was kinda like what happens when it's a really cold, dark winter and you feel all alone and helpless, you know?" She shivered and rubbed her shoulders. Ophelia conjured a blanket, and Lavender gave her a small smile as she wrapped it around herself. "Thanks. I know you were only mad at the Judges, but I guess your magic spread…"

Ophelia frowned as that seemed to make something click. "Wait… no… but… me?" She muttered before poking her wand into her satchel and wordlessly summoning a book. It flew out of the library within and into her waiting hand. She leafed through it rapidly while Lavender leaned over to see what she was looking at. After a moment, Ophelia found what she was looking for and set the book down. "No… I– that doesn't make sense. I mean, I'm fourteen! Wixen don't develop auras unless they're–"

"Extremely powerful?" Lavender commented drily before she examined the passage properly.

Magical Auras

The phenomena known as 'magical aura' was never truly labeled until the late 1600s, when the up-and-coming pirate Anne Dieu-le-Veut coined the term after witnessing a magical duel of extreme proportions.

Magical auras are a phenomena wherein one's magic has become so exceedingly potent and refined that it expands outwards and has an effect on those around them. Generally, one can expect an aura to have anywhere from one to five effects. Ms. Dieu-le-Veut, after later study and investigation, determined that accidental magic and magical auras are linked. While accidental magic is brief and unpredictable, magical auras are the same with every use and can be prolonged without much expenditure of magical energy.

The circumstances in which a magical aura can develop have not been fully documented, however one can presume only an extremely powerful wix would be capable of producing one. Said wix would also need an extremely advanced understanding of magic, and need to possess extremely refined control over their magic. A rough estimation could be made that most wixen could develop an aura by the age of sixty, however in a majority of scenarios they would only carry one effect.

Lavender tilted her head thoughtfully and then counted off her fingers as she mused, "Cold… dark… speechless… weakness… dread… Holy shite, Ophelia."

Ophelia sank into her chair and ran a hand through her hair, "I– no, wait– that can't– I–" She stopped and took a deep breath to calm herself, pinching the bridge of her nose as she did so. She looked at the book, then at her hands. "... Did I really do that?" She asked in a very small voice. "I… but I'm a kid, I–"

Lavender jostled her shoulder, "Hey, you're also not alone. Look here, okay?"

Ophelia was dubious, but glanced at the passage Lavender indicated.

Age is a number one would usually equate to experience - and in the magical world, power. No wixen are born any weaker or stronger than others - so one would assume only adults could become capable of wielding auras. This is not the case - after all, take any two adult wixen of an identical age (twins even) and you'd probably find one is stronger than the other, or they have differing grades, or just in general one might wholly outperform the other.

Auras are included in this. If a wix is especially studious and hard-working, their talents and abilities could grow exponentially even at a young age. The youngest recorded instance in the Isles of Britain of an aura-user was Melissa Harken in 1830, who generated an aura as early as her fourteenth year of life after witnessing the death of her brother. Her aura was noted as bringing an immense sense of panic, inducing a feeling of loneliness and causing a great deal of nausea. Theorists have long debated whether the events surrounding the first instance of someone's aura is relevant to the effects it induces - as well as the amount.

Ophelia blinked, and her heart went out to Melissa Harken - losing a brother would probably be devastating. Just the thought that Hannah could be put at risk had…

"I… should-should I talk to someone about this?" Ophelia mumbled, looking at Lavender in desperation. "Wh-who could help me? I… I don't want to go to Dumbledore, but…"

Lavender grimaced, "He'd be the one to know… wait here and I'll send Hannah and Daphne, 'kay? Do you want me to get McGonagall, too?"

Ophelia paused for a moment before she reluctantly nodded. She didn't want to involve so many people in herissues, but Hannah and Daphne would pitch a fit if they knew she'd gone to visit Dumbledore alone - and maybe Professor McGonagall could stop him from upsetting her. Or at least help her leave if needed.

She really wasn't looking forward to this.

~~~~~Ophelia~~~~~

"Are you sure you want to talk to him, Ophie?" Hannah asked for probably the tenth time since they'd started walking to Dumbledore's office. Now the three girls and one woman were standing in front of the Gargoyle and Ophelia was trying very hard not to have a panic attack.

She grimaced, "I… I don't, but I have to. I don't think anyone else would be very… familiar with auras. They're rare even among adults." She sighed as her shoulders sagged, "And Lavender thinks I have five effects to mine, assuming I have one."

Professor McGonagall placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Let it stand as testament to your talent, effort and character that you most certainly do have an aura, Miss Potter. I do as well, though the only noteworthy effects are that it causes delirium and hallucinations." She shook her head a little, "Yours, Miss Potter, is most certainly more varied - albeit not as potent as a trained wielder's would be. I'll admit, the Headmaster has made some… concerning decisions regarding your wellbeing, but you're not wrong regarding his knowledge and power in regard to auras. His is the only other I've encountered that carries five traits - exhaustion, aches, disorientation, overheating and nausea."

Daphne's lips twitched, "His aura… causes periods?" She seemed to be fighting to suppress a giggle, and Hannah covered her mouth as she smirked and snorted. Ophelia suppressed her own smile and saw Professor McGonagall's lips twitch by the tiniest fraction.

"Quite." She then turned to the Gargoyle, "Lime Lantern!" The Gargoyle hopped aside as the staircase made its appearance.

Hannah frowned a little as they got on the stairs. "Why does he always pick sweets for the passwords?"

Professor McGonagall smiled a little, "It actually wasn't his decision. Hogwarts' Founders enchanted the Gargoyle in such a way, so that on occasion a student would be able to find the office and say hello. Nearly any sweet tends to work, in all honesty - each year the Headmaster has perhaps ten to fifteen surprise visitors." Then the stairs reached the top and they all exited.

McGonagall knocked on the large twin doors in the reception room, and after a moment, Dumbledore's voice called out, "Enter!"

Ophelia grimaced as she joined hands with Hannah and - albeit not without a bit of awkward stiffness - Daphne before Professor McGonagall opened the door and they all entered. Within, Dumbledore was working on paperwork - his desk seemed to be overflowing with papers, and he seemed haggard despite the weary smile he gave them. Ophelia noticed with a bit of grim satisfaction that his face was marred by three long, thin scars - evidently Daphne's slap had left its mark. Permanently.

"Ah, Minerva! With Miss Potter, Miss Abbott and Miss Greengrass, I see. I don't suppose this is a social visit?" Dumbledore asked with a raised eyebrow. He waved his wand idly and the papers scattered across his desk assembled themselves into a handful of neat piles. Ophelia couldn't help but grimace a little as she kept an eye on his wand and her hackles rose. She felt a bit like whenever Uncle Vernon took off his belt - sometimes it was just to let his gut loose, but sometimes…

Hannah squeezed her hand and Ophelia gave her a grateful smile, acutely aware of how her own eyes felt a bit thick with unshed tears. She briefly let go of Daphne's hand and dabbed at her eyes before she spoke up. "Um… Headmaster, I… I was speaking to Lavender Brown earlier, and… we think I might have developed an, um… aura."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose together this time before he waved his wand and the guest chairs merged and transfigured into a couch - well, two of them. The third simply became more comfortable-looking. "Please, sit," he said, and hesitantly they all complied, though McGonagall's back was straight and she was quite alert. "I suppose the reason you've come to believe you have an aura would be the events of the Second Task?"

Ophelia nodded, but McGonagall was the one to respond. "I don't think there's another explanation, Albus," she said with a sigh. "She's young, but it isn't unheard of for a wix her age to produce one. I believe the last in the Isles was Melissa Harken, but there are a few her age around the world who have produced one at her age, or even younger."

Dumbledore nodded as he steepled his fingers, "True - you're not wrong, Minerva." His brow furrowed as he seemed thoughtful, "Have you determined the effects of her aura? While I admit I kept my silence at the time, I noticed nobody else spoke either - I can't say I know what all the effects were due to my own developed immunity."

McGonagall gave a glance to the girls, "Miss Abbott? Miss Greengrass? I'm afraid I have the same issue as the Headmaster. After you've dealt with auras enough, unless you're sufficiently weakened, they don't tend to trouble you much - if you have one, anyway."

Hannah gave Ophelia a furtive look, "Um… well, I know it got a lot colder, and darker… I felt this really, really terrible sense of just… dread…"

Daphne nodded, "Plus I couldn't really move. My legs just gave out and I couldn't get them to budge. And no, I couldn't speak - I tried but my throat just didn't work." She shuddered, but the look she gave Ophelia wasn't one of fear, but of appraisal. "Honestly I'd just kinda thought that since it was the first time I'd ever seen Ophie angry,that…"

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, "I can understand your confusion, Miss Greengrass - auras aren't something often mentioned." He furrowed his brow again before he gave a shake of his head, "I'm sorry, Miss Potter - but I cannot teach you. It would be unwise."

Ophelia felt her heart sink a tiny bit, but wasn't surprised, "Okay. I understand, sir." She didn't feel all that disappointed, honestly - probably because Dumbledore had routinely disappointed her in the past. Besides, the fact he'd abandoned her to the Dursleys didn't exactly foment good faith.

Hannah bristled and seemed pretty upset, "Now, wait–" Ophelia silenced her with a strong squeeze to the hand.

"No," she murmured, "There's no point. Don't bother."

Hannah gave her a sad look, but then only seemed angrier - not at her, though. She snapped her look back onto Dumbledore. "She needs someone to teach her! This is really powerful magic, Headmaster - and forgive me for doubting your ability," she seethed, her voice dripping with acid despite the barely respectful phrasing, "But Ophelia is very talented! Her satchel has an enchantment on it that gives it twenty individual rooms! And loads of enchantments! Why won't you teach her?"

McGonagall gave Hannah a look of consternation, but no further reprimand as she turned a sharp but calculating look onto Dumbledore. "While Miss Abbott has gone a tad emotional, Albus, I share her concerns. Surely this isn't a question of the girl's talents? She's clever and the Second Task alone proves her ability. She outstripped three other Champions - each three years older than she - and also rather masterfully displayed her first instance of an aura. She needs guidance, Albus - and you are the only wix in the entirety of the British Isles and most of Eastern Europe who possesses a five-effect aura. Is it a matter of your workload? It would not be difficult for me if you need someone to shoulder the burden of Hogwarts' work."

Dumbledore's expression was unreadable to Ophelia, though there was no twinkle in his eye to indicate anything good. "I'm afraid it is neither of those reasons, Minerva. I'd be a fool to claim Miss Potter is an undeserving student, and a liar if I claimed my workload is an issue. Frankly, a majority of these papers merely need to be read and perhaps signed, and that would take little more than a week for me to accomplish." He sighed a bit and clasped his hands together, "The issue is more the concern of Miss Potter's living arrangements." When Daphne went to make a comment, he held up a hand to quiet her, "I'm not so cruel as to say she should be returned to her relatives, Miss Greengrass - please, settle down."

Daphne bristled, but didn't berate him like she seemed intent on doing. "Then what's the issue? She'd never hurt Hannah or Lord Abbott - surely you can't think that?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "No Miss Greengrass, I do not. But Lord Abbott has expressly forbidden me from being allowed to either be alone in a room with Miss Potter or provide instruction without supervision - and frankly, the instruction of aura usage is…"

McGonagall's expression tightened, "Violent at best, right." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, "What solutions do we have, then?"

Ophelia was a bit stunned, but she looked at Professor McGonagall, "Well… can't you teach me, Professor?"

McGonagall gave her a sad look before she shook her head, "No, I'm afraid not, Miss Potter. My abilities as far as aura goes are lesser than yours - you see, aura training can get… extremely intense. As you develop it, the more powerful it will get. Your first instance fell within the realm of my immunity - but once you've begun training, eventually it will affect even me. And being silenced and immobilized tends to make instruction a bit of a challenge." She had a bit of a dry smile towards the end, but her tone was apologetic all the same.

Ophelia grimaced but nodded - she couldn't argue that. But then she squirmed uncomfortably, "But… if I can't learn how to use it… what if I hurt someone?" She felt her heartbeat quicken as she began to panic, "I– I c-can't, I–"

Daphne wrapped an arm around her tightly, "Hey, Ophelia– calm down, okay? You won't hurt us. We know you won't. Come on, deep breaths. Remember what Healer Grapelock said. In… out… come on, you've got this."

Ophelia tried to calm herself down, breathing in and out slowly, but the panic wasn't easy to assuage. She was still worried about her friends. She looked desperately at Dumbledore, but he only looked apologetic. She turned to McGonagall, desperate. "Please, I– there has to be s-something we can do, right? Right?"

McGonagall's brow furrowed and she clasped her hands together, her expression tight. "Well… There is someone I know who might be able to help… a woman–"

"No, Minerva," Dumbledore interrupted her, his tone suddenly sharp. "That woman is far too dangerous to be allowed around children. She is a monster!"

McGonagall scowled, "Well what would you suggest, Albus?! There aren't many aura users with five effects in the world! You know as well as I that she is probably the most qualified witch to teach Miss Potter!"

"She is an Evil Wix!" Dumbledore growled, his expression dark and full of anger. Ophelia shrank back and even Hannah and Daphne seemed terrified as they clung close to her. "She would just as soon teach Miss Potter as use her for one of those infernal sacrifices! She can't be trusted!"

"She is a friend, Albus! She and I have a rapport–"

"Minerva, don't you dare let your past relationship cloud your judgment! They are children - you are an educator! Set a better example!"

McGonagall rose to her feet, now visibly irate, "Like you have, Albus?! You sentenced Miss Potter to thirteen yearsof torment! I hardly think she'd be the kind of monster to repeat that kind of act! She's a good woman! I can't help how we classify the magic she uses!"

Dumbledore rose as well, and magic seemed to crackle at his fingers. Ophelia began to feel nauseous and achy. "She sacrifices animals! People! She is a monster in human skin! You are out of line, Minerva! I may have made a mistake but the risk I took was calculated! Yours is blinded by emotion! You are allowing your love for that woman to blind you!"

Delirium began to set in, and to her left Ophelia saw Hannah clutching her stomach and looking as if she were struggling not to vomit. McGonagall looked furious. "Blind me? Blind me?! She is no monster, Albus! She is hardly a saint but she is no Voldemort! She and I broke off thatelement to our relationship a while ago, she is a friend - a good one that I trust, I–"

Daphne puked on the floor and both adults seemed to be jostled out of their argument. McGonagall paled and instantly waved her wand, dispelling the vomit and summoning three glasses of water. Ophelia began to shake and shudder as her muscles shook. "Damnit," McGonagall muttered, and Ophelia was too exhausted to be surprised by her use of an expletive. Dumbledore moved around his desk and helped tip a glass of water to Hannah's lips while McGonagall did the same for first Daphne, and then Ophelia.

Dumbledore looked quite remorseful as he strode back to his desk once the girls had settled. "I am sorry, girls - I didn't mean to lose control like that." He then looked back at McGonagall, but his anger was more smoldering than burning now, "But I stand by my opinion that it is a terrible idea, Minerva. I would think that asking an old flame for help is a mistake of mine you'd learn from."

McGonagall shot him a sharp look, "Ultimately Albus, you offer no solution - I offer one." She looked at Ophelia again, and hesitated before she continued. "There is a witch I was once… involved with. An incredibly powerful one I met during my Mastery under Matthias Shepherd in the United States. The Headmaster isn't wrong - she is incredibly dangerous, but she is also the most powerful wix I am aware of. She also developed her aura when she was twelve. One with five effects, much like yours. And yes, I do include Headmaster Dumbledore when I claim she is the most powerful wix."

Ophelia was a bit stunned by this revelation, and she took a few moments to sort herself out - and make sure Hannah and Daphne were okay as well. Once she was sure they were okay, she looked between the two adults thoughtfully. "Um… and she can teach me?"

Dumbledore grimaced, "While I… admit that perhaps she would not attack a child, and still stand by the belief that she is a terrible influence… yes, she could teach you. Perhaps better than anyone else - even me. I'm not too proud to admit that."

Ophelia felt a bit of anxiety about that, but also anticipation. She paused for a moment, but a grim realization settled over her. "Well… it isn't much different from Professor… um, our Potions Professor," she said a bit awkwardly, recalling how Frederick had advised her to not use his name in order to minimize the possibility of triggering an anxiety attack. "He's not very kind and… and…" She shuddered and gave Hannah a look to show she needed help.

Hannah grimaced, "Ophelia thinks he's sabotaged her potions in the past, and also the instructions."

Daphne scowled, "That's dangerous enough as it is. Is this woman really that bad? I heard you say sacrifices, but a lot of wixen do that." She looked at McGonagall, who looked a bit vindicated.

"She's someone I would trust with my life, Miss Greengrass," McGonagall replied as she sat down in her chair. "She is an Aztec Priestess, and the Queen of El Dorado. I will not deny that she qualifies for the moniker of Evil Wixen - but not due to cruelty or evils." She shot Dumbledore a mildly annoyed look, "And for the record, Albus? She has not performed a human sacrifice in fifty years, nor does she desire to - magical creatures and animals, she finds, do the trick."

Dumbledore looked appalled, and then resigned, "I should have known you never took my advice." He sighed and rubbed his face for a moment before he fixed McGonagall with a hard look, "Do as you will, Minerva. But remember that I am not responsible for what comes of this. This falls on your shoulders."

Ophelia felt a strong pang of guilt as she shifted uncomfortably. She looked at Professor McGonagall as the anxiety in her stomach built up. "Um… wait, you don't have–"

McGonagall quieted her with a hand. "Nothing bad will happen, Miss Potter - I assure you. It is important you learn how to use this ability, and I shall see to it that you learn from her."

Daphne gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before she gave McGonagall a curious look. "What's her name? Neither of you used it when talking about her…"

McGonagall smiled a bit wryly. "My apologies, Miss Greengrass. The Headmaster-" she flicked her eyes to Dumbledore as an irritated expression crossed her face, "-is of the opinion that she should not be spoken of. I have simply gotten into the habit of respecting his wishes. The name of the witch I believe should teach you, Miss Potter, is Mahalu."

Ophelia mouthed the name once and frowned. "I… I've heard that name before… She's the one who rediscovered the Aztec Runes in 1967, right? I think I have her book… Mahalu Xochitecatl?"

McGonagall nodded and gestured for the girls to stand. They did and nodded to Dumbledore, who waved goodbye before returning to his paperwork, visibly agitated and disturbed. Ophelia grimaced and bit down her remorse as she left - she hoped that this hadn't been equivalent to stirring the hornet's nest.

After they left his office, McGonagall exhaled rather audibly as she ushered the girls down the stairs. "I apologize for losing my temper, girls - and on behalf of the Headmaster. That was incredibly improper of both of us, and endangered all three of you. I'll be taking you to Madam Pomfrey so she can evaluate you - don't worry about any classes you'd miss. Aura exposure isn't light business."

Hannah frowned as they got to the bottom of the stairs, "But… we didn't have to be evaluated after Ophelia's outburst…"

McGonagall nodded, "Aye, but her aura isn't mature yet, either. You also weren't the intended targets. There's a lot about aura that isn't understood, but usually anger and strong emotions aimed at someone within range causes the aftereffects to be stronger." She sighed and shook her head a bit, "I'm sure Mahalu will teach you everything, but if you have questions my office is always open."

Ophelia nodded and sighed as she let Hannah and Daphne support her, but despite McGonagall's promises to help…

She couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, well, well~ Dumbledore's mood changed pretty quick when Minerva mentioned her ex...

Your Kudos comfort Ophelia after Dumbledore tried to guilt her, and your Comments tell her how awesome she is.

El Dorado: https://discord.gg/w5k4TfFRGG

Next Chapter: A New POV

Chapter 20: Priestess of El DoradoChapter TextWelcome to the mind of the priestess.

CW: Blood, Gore mention, Torture mention, Implied sexual content (between adults)

~~~~~Mahalu~~~~~

Priestess of El Dorado

~~~~~Mahalu~~~~~

March 12th, 1995

The priestess raised an eyebrow when she saw the owl. Those were hardly standard for exchanging correspondence in South America. She effortlessly snatched the letter out of its talons and the bird squawked at her. She let her blood-red gaze fall on it and the bird immediately fell silent and cowered on the arm of her throne. Satisfied, she returned her attention to the letter. The address was in an extremely familiar script.

Queen Mahalu Xochitecatl

The Golden Throne, El Dorado's Pyramid

El Dorado - Amazon Rainforest - Brazil

She smiled slightly as she gently let her hand trace the emerald ink. "She still has it," she murmured to herself, old memories returning. Clearly Minerva wasn't as detached as she claimed if she still used the special ink Mahalu had crafted solely for their correspondence oh-so-long-ago. Emerald green meant it was not urgent, but that it needed a response. Mahalu chuckled at how whipped she was - she, the Queen! Nobody in the world but Minerva McGonagall could guarantee they would receive a response from the Queen of the single most powerful magical country that existed, besides perhaps Atlantis.

The smile playing on her lips, she broke the seal and withdrew the letter.

Queen Mahalu,

Did that make you wrinkle your nose? Good. That's what you get for calling me 'Madam McGonagall' in our last letter.

Mahalu immediately snorted, and her guards looked at her in alarm. She shot them a glare and they immediately resumed their positions. She silently cursed herself for forgetting how ridiculously relaxed Minerva could be in their letters. Damnable fey.

I hope everything's going well. Personally I've had a right bitch of things, but I think we both know that it's just my lot in life. I'd recommend you never become a teacher, but then that would defeat the purpose of this letter.

Put that eyebrow down, you know better than to doubt me. It's a student worth your time - that I can promise.

Mahalu couldn't help the smirk on her face. Three years since their last correspondence, fifteen since they'd last met face-to-face, and Minerva still knew how to read her like a book. Then again, that had been what had drawn her to the Scottish wix. She let pleasant memories of subjugating the kingdom she now ruled drift through her mind before she focused on the letter once more.

Knowing your intel system, by now I'm sure you're aware that Harry Potter is actually Ophelia Potter - a transgender girl. I know, scandalous.

Mahalu could have sworn she could hear the sarcastic and uncharacteristic snort from thousands of miles away.

She's also just developed an aura - normally I would just put that as a footnote in our usual correspondence. After all, I've had a dozen students develop auras in the last three years - usually it's nothing particularly important. Usually. Unfortunately I think the old gods finally decided to mess with me for pissing off the South American fey. I still think they overreacted, but regardless.

Her aura has five effects. Unfortunately, two of them are Silence and Immobility, and the darkness she induces has me under the impression she also has Blindness or some other ocular obfuscation. Ridiculous and hard to believe? Perhaps, but that's why the back of this letter is actually the front of Miss Potter's homework.

Mahalu arched an eyebrow and flipped the letter over, glancing at the runic array and immediately finding herself intrigued. It was seamless and well done, using both Elder and Younger Futhark runes. More interestingly, it wove them together - something only Mahalu herself and a handful of others had accomplished, and the others certainly hadn't done so as children. The array didn't cut corners, but rather acted as an overall shortcut.

It was beautiful, she had to admit. Not necessarily innovative from Mahalu's own perspective, but for a fourteen year old girl who likely did not even know that this very shortcut existed - seeing as it did so only in the most obscure of circles? It was impressive, no question.

She flipped the letter back over, now wondering why Minerva appeared to want Mahalu to teach this girl rather than that manipulative goat Dumbledore.

Let me guess, you just checked the other side of the paper and were impressed before wondering why I'm clearly angling for you to teach Ophelia instead of Albus?

Mahalu scowled.

Stop scowling, your face will stick, and it looks far too lovely for you to let that happen.

The scowl melted away and the Aztec wix pinched the bridge of her nose. It wasn't assassins, it wasn't the psychotic wixen demanding the return of human sacrifice, it wasn't even the other Evil Wixen who tried to encroach on her territory. No, the one being that was going to be the death of her was an obnoxious witch from Scotland who had a penchant for teasing her. Damn Minerva McGonagall. Damn her and that damnable laugh that made Mahalu putty in her fucking hands.

She released her nose and focused once more on the letter before her.

Albus Dumbledore is being an obstinate piece of shit and I'm sick and tired of dealing with him.

Mahalu had to fight extremely hard not to laugh as she doubled over, clamping a hand over her mouth as her stomach convulsed. After several moments of stifled giggles, she managed to regain her composure, though by now her guards were looking at her as if she'd lost her mind. Another glare had them back in position, and left her wondering why she even bothered with guards anyway.

He's claiming Lord Abbott - Ophelia's new caretaker - is stonewalling him on being around Ophelia alone or teaching her. I know that to be a crock, but haven't said anything yet because if I want to oust the man I'm going to need more evidence. Hint hint.

Regardless, it leaves Ophelia in need of a teacher, and I can't help her because even with my own aura and resistances I was unable to speak under the influence of hers. She's powerful, Mahalu - immensely so. She needs guidance, and you're the only wix I can think of who I trust. Does Dumbledore trust you? No, but what he wants isn't important right now. What Ophelia needs is. She's been through a great deal, and we both know Penthesilea of Agartha would hardly have the capacity for respecting that.

I'll be honest with you, Mahalu - Ophelia's been abused. Badly. To the point where I had to exhibit a great deal of self restraint to not resort to those torture methods you showed me when we were young women. I don't doubt you'll have the same struggles - and while I'll politely ask you not to kill them, I also know that you might do it anyway.

Mahalu frowned as she tapped a finger against her throne. As far as she could tell, Ophelia Potter was the golden child of Britannia. Some wixen had even theorized crazy, inane things such as her being the reincarnation of Morgana LeFay or Arthur Pendragon. Considering neither of those two were dead, Mahalu could safely debunk those theories - though it had certainly made for a good joke the last time she'd visited the Seelie Court of Europe.

But she had been abused - badly enough that Minerva was itching to flay them alive and break every bone in their bodies. While Mahalu certainly shared the opinion that child abusers were a strong argument for the return of human sacrifice, she couldn't help but wonder if Minerva's maternal instincts were at play. She'd met hundreds of abused children over her years, and had always been extraordinarily reserved and yet successful in helping them. She had a talent for it.

But the way she talked about this… what, had they Cruciated the girl? Somehow, Mahalu had an odd feeling that maybe it wasn't maternal instincts, and Minerva was simply being factual. And wasn't that a worrying thing?

If you're up to it, don't bother sending a letter in response. Just Apparate over. I'd say not to Hogwarts, but if you could do me a favor and pop into Albus' office, that'd be grand. Old coot deserves a good scare, maybe it'll knock him off his high horse.

With love and grins,

Minerva Jane McGonagall

Mahalu sighed and after staring at the signature for a long moment, she ignited the letter and watched it burn away. She rose from her throne, casually transfiguring her traditional clothing into more mundane wear - a black blouse and matching slacks. "I'm heading out," she told her guards as she began to walk forwards. "Tlāloc, you're in charge - if anyone makes a mistake while I'm out, kill them," she told her only true friend. He gave her a casual salute just as the twist of Apparition distorted her vision.

~~~~~Mahalu~~~~~

BOOM!

With a sound identical to a clap of thunder, Mahalu appeared in Albus Dumbledore's office. The man jumped, drawing his wand - it took barely a wave of her hand to disarm him. She caught the stick deftly, arching an eyebrow at it. "The wand Grindelwald stole, Albus? Really? And you say I'm a bad influence," she muttered, tossing the so-called Deathstick back at him.

Albus caught the wand, his posture tense. "Mahalu… I believe I told you that you weren't welcome at Hogwarts," he said stiffly, not pocketing his wand. She didn't know why he bothered - it wasn't as if she'd ever said she wanted him dead.

"So you did," she replied lazily, cracking her neck and waving her hand in order to conjure a hairband to tie her black-and-red locks into a short ponytail. "I hope it's obvious how little I care."

Albus' expression tightened. She noticed with some amusement that he'd not left his duelling stance. Old or not, he hadn't totally lost his touch. "Leave this school, Mahalu-"

"No, Albus," she interrupted him with a sigh, walking away from his desk and toward the doors. She turned back and grinned at him as she placed a hand on them, "I've got a student to meet." She relished in his flabbergasted expression as she shoved the doors open and slid down the stairs, the Gargoyle leaping out of the way for her.

Sensing magical signatures in the school was child's play, though she noted with distaste that there were two of Tom Riddle's 'Death Eaters' present. Either Albus was finally losing his mind, or he had no idea as to what they were. She wasn't sure which was more distasteful.

Locating Ophelia Potter specifically wasn't too hard. She took a few turns until she found Gryffindor Tower, and then stood in front of a portrait featuring a rather fat woman - the Fat Lady, as Minerva said she was called. "I'm here to speak to Ophelia Potter," she told the Portrait. "Open up, would you?"

The Fat Lady eyed her warily, "Entry is only granted to staff, or those who know the password. I can let Miss Potter know you are looking for her, but no more." The Fat Lady didn't wait for a response as she left the portrait.

Personally, Mahalu was impressed. It wasn't often someone talked back to her - then again, she'd heard a rumor that the featured woman was allegedly a relative of Godric Gryffindor. Maybe it was the pride and bravery.

After a few moments, the portrait door opened and a rather small girl stepped out. Mahalu wasn't against admitting she was 'freakishly' tall, standing at 210cm - but even then, she usually didn't run into girls quite this short. Ophelia Potter was barely 150cm, if her guess was right.

"Um… you wanted to see me? I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you," Ophelia greeted her, a bit hesitantly holding out her hand. Mahalu didn't miss the slight inward tilt of her shoulders, the hunch to her posture, the stiffness of her movements. Abuse indeed.

She took the girl's hand into one of her own, "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Potter. My name is Mahalu Xochitecatl." She grinned at Ophelia's stunned expression, and her eyes glittered with interest when she felt the girl's magic. She was powerful indeed. "Ready for your first lesson?"

Ophelia stammered a bit in surprise, but Mahalu had already turned around and started pulling the girl after her. "Um– wh– where are we going?" She asked, working hard to keep apace with the taller woman.

Mahalu beamed, "There's an interesting room on your seventh floor. That'll do the trick. Come on."

It was a brief walk to the seventh floor, if only because Mahalu slightly warped space. Slightly. She then let go of Ophelia's hand so she could walk three turns in front of the Room of Requirement. She was finished before the girl could ask anything, and the door appeared.

"There we go. Come on in - this'll be a good place for us," Mahalu said as she opened the door. Ophelia was hesitant but followed her inside.

It wasn't a training room. It was actually a fairly simple living room of sorts, with a lit fireplace and a table between a pair of comfortable chairs. "Wait… wh-what? I thought you said this was training," Ophelia said, visibly confused.

Mahalu chuckled as she sat in one of the chairs, "More of an interview. Minerva told me you need to be trained on your aura, and while I don't disagree, I also don't teach without knowing who I'm teaching. Come now, sit - I only bite adults."

Ophelia blinked and eyed her warily but sat in the other chair, drawing her legs up and resting them in front of her. Admittedly it was a large chair - Mahalu blamed her own habits. Her furniture was always pretty big, since… well, she was so damn tall.

"Um… Professor McGonagall said you're from… El Dorado, in Brazil, right?"

Mahalu nodded, "Yes, I am. I'm actually the Queen of El Dorado. Feel free to call me Mahalu or Miss Xochitecatl, though - frankly I only tolerate the stuffy titles from my subjects. I believe Tom Riddle was quite the same."

Ophelia frowned, "Wait… but he wanted people to call him 'You-Know-Who' and occasionally Lord Voldemort or 'The Dark Lord', didn't he?"

Mahalu sighed, "I'll blame the fact you're taught by a ghost and the hearsay of your peers for your poor knowledge." She waved her hand and a chessboard appeared on the table, complete with pieces. "Say this is Tom," she began, tapping the Black King. "He is the King, in his own mind. He only allows other royalty-" she tapped the Black Queen, "-to use his name. Equals." She taps the White King and Queen then, "He doesn't like it when enemies of equivalent strength do it, but he won't object to it either - he acknowledges their power. As for his Death Eaters and enemy Lieutenants…" She vanished all but the knights, rooks and bishops on both sides, "He will tolerate 'Voldemort' from the enemy and allows his Death Eaters to use 'Lord Voldemort'. But for the regular rank-and-file? For plain citizens?" Another wave of her hand and all pieces vanished before being replaced by pawns, "'You-Know-Who', 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', and if you're sympathetic to his cause, 'The Dark Lord'."

Ophelia blinked as she shifted in her seat, thoughtful. "And… would the Slytherin kids know this? The, um… purebloods and half-bloods?" Mahalu nodded as she could practically see the gears turning in Ophelia's head. "So… just by paying attention to what they call him… I can find out if they're an ally or not? Er, spies notwithstanding?"

Mahalu cracked a grin, "Precisely. Of course, that's only based on his politics. Every 'Evil Lord' and 'Evil Lady' has their own rules. Including myself - don't worry, I know Minerva warned you what they call me." Ophelia blushed but didn't deny it. "I don't care what I am called, generally - only so long as I am given respect. Though I hear you have a moniker you rather dislike?"

Ophelia grimaced, "A… couple, actually." She played with the sleeves of her sweater a bit as she continued, "I really don't like being called the 'Girl-Who-Lived', and of course now that I'm 'out' I don't like being, um, deadnamed, but–" She paused when she saw Mahalu hold up a hand.

"I apologize, but what does the term deadname mean? My intel system clearly has a blind spot," Mahalu said in explanation of her interruption.

Ophelia looked a little surprised, but her expression twisted back into a grimace. "Well, Professor McGonagall said you used to be, um… together… So I guess you know about LGBT people?" Mahalu nodded. "Right, um. Well… trans people like myself, after we change our names, call our old names our 'deadname', because it isn't supposed to refer to us anymore. And, um…"

Mahalu's eyes narrowed, "People use that to harm you?" Ophelia nodded and Mahalu exhaled slowly before she shook her head. "I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm not - El Dorado is a very unique place. Identity is to be respected there, not weaponized against someone." She frowned when she saw Ophelia draw in on herself. Mahalu then waved her hand and the room warmed up.

Ophelia shot her a small smile, "Thank you… um, there's also a newer one. 'Winter Queen', it's based on… well, my aura."

Mahalu nodded, "That isn't unheard of. Most aura-users get a nickname as a result. It isn't a bad thing. Honestly the name is a testament to your hard work, talent and knowledge. Minerva's letter showed me one of your runic arrays. You're a powerful witch. And honestly, there's no shame in admitting it - I've been called Huītzilōpōchtli in the past. That's the name of the Aztec god of sun, war, sacrifice and a few other things. It isn't my preferred name, but it is one used because of my accomplishments, rather than to harm me or congratulate me for… well, to use 'Girl-Who-Lived' as an example, something I did not accomplish, but my parents did."

Ophelia relaxed visibly and gave her a small smile before she leaned back against her chair, looking thoughtful. Mahalu watched with amusement as she seemed to mull something over for a bit before she spoke. "Um… can I ask you something?"

Mahalu gestured with her hand, "Go ahead. I'm here to ask questions and answer them. Besides, the type of questions you ask will help me figure out what kind of person you are, too."

Ophelia nodded and resumed picking at her sleeves while she answered. "How do I… be confident? I… I see Daphne, Hermione and Hannah do it so effortlessly, but I'm just a total mess. Frederick - my Mind Healer - he says I struggle with low self-esteem, and that it'll take time for me to build it up. My friends are helping… but I just feel… stuck."

Mahalu hummed thoughtfully as she crossed her legs. That wasn't a question she would have expected, but kids with mental health struggles weren't exactly 'predictable' anyway. "Hmm… why would you ask me this?" She asked, though she had a feeling she knew the answer to that.

Ophelia smiled weakly, "I've never seen anyone as… well, amazing as you. The… the Headmaster isn't… great, though I can tell he has confidence… but I think it's different from yours. Your confidence is different from anyone else's I've seen. You just seem like… like…"

Mahalu grinned toothily, "Like I couldn't be bothered to care what others think?" Ophelia gave a sheepish nod of confirmation. Mahalu chuckled deep in her throat, "Well, that would be because I don't. Who cares what others think of me? I am my own woman. I am a Queen. I am powerful, why should I not be confident? While of course you should not be arrogant or assume less of others - that would make you a fool, and underestimating others is dangerous - you also should not underestimate yourself. You can tell how powerful I am - anyone can, it isn't hard to see. I am telling you that you are powerful. As much as me? No, not now. In the future? Perhaps. You are strong and have potential - but don't push yourself, either. Do that and all you'll accomplish is setting yourself back."

Ophelia nodded as she took in Mahalu's words, fidgeting a bit less with the sleeves of her sweater.

While she let her prospective student dwell on her thoughts, Mahalu tapped one of her earrings. The red stone glowed and morphed back into the bag it originally was, and from within she withdrew a bowl of fruit and some bread. "Let's eat. Food always helps conversation flow better, hmm?"

~~~~~Mahalu~~~~~

"She's interesting," Mahalu mused as she opened Minerva's office door. "Has talent, power, and it's buried deep but she's got a desire to prove herself. I'll teach her."

Minerva peered at Mahalu over her glasses before taking them off, thus dispelling the glamour she kept on. Instantly her naturally youthful appearance as a Baobhan Sith returned - not a wrinkle on beautifully smooth skin, and her features became much softer and more beautiful. Mahalu grinned as she saw her tight bun fall into its natural curls, soft and voluminous as they cascaded down her shoulders. Allure or not, Mahalu couldn't help but wonder if the woman could help being so damn sexy. "Perhaps a greeting next time, Mahalu? Or a heads up? I would've liked to actually see you scare the life out of Albus."

Mahalu chuckled as she sat on Minerva's desk, smiling at her ex. "I felt like you needed a bit of punishment. It's been three years since your last letter! I was feeling lonely." She stretched out her legs and placed her hands on the back of her neck, letting out a low sigh. "That kid's got some demons. Seeing a Mind Healer? At her age? You weren't kidding about the abuse, huh?"

Minerva pursed her lips and shook her head. "No, I'm afraid I was not. She hid her transition, did you know? She was so terrified of being found out that she used makeup and spells and clothes to make it so others still thought she was a boy. It even worked on me! I didn't find out until she got bitten by a Basilisk…"

Mahalu snapped her head up to look at Minerva. "You said a Basilisk?"

Minerva nodded. "In the Chamber of Secrets. It was petrifying students left and right two years ago. Miss Potter found me and helped me find the Chamber, and we went down together. She was…" Minerva sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "She was supposed to grab the Weasley children and run, but then some memory of Tom Riddle appeared! Apparently he possessed some student with a diary or something. I managed to defeat him - though she killed the Basilisk. But if it wasn't for Albus' Phoenix, the girl would be dead. It bit her arm and leg."

Mahalu was left reeling from that information. She tugged at her ponytail as her brow furrowed deeply. "You said there was a memory of Tom Riddle… A diary…" Something nagged at her and she gave Minerva a sharp look. "Dark, I assume? Probably even Evil?"

Minerva nodded. "Heavily. It only properly vanished when Miss Potter stabbed the diary with one of the Basilisk's fangs. It bled black blood."

Mahalu swore under her breath in Nahuatl. "Shit! That stupid fuck!" She looked hard at Minerva, "That was a Horcrux."

Minerva's eyes went wide and they flicked over to the pair of rings Mahalu wore on her left hand. Mahalu and Minerva's own Horcruxes.

Mahalu nodded. "Yes, exactly - except Tom clearly made more than one. It's already extremely dangerous to split your soul - not to mention painful, as I'm sure you recall?"

Minerva shuddered and nodded, "Aye, I remember. The most excruciating thing I've ever experienced. The Cruciatus might as well be a tickling feather in comparison." She grimaced before shaking her head, "I should have known Tom made more than one. I overheard him talking to Horace Slughorn about them once - about making… six Horcruxes."

Mahalu's eyes widened. "Oh, fuck." She stood and began to pace up and down the office. "Knowing him, he probably screwed up the process, or heavily corrupted it." She held up her left hand, "Our Horcruxes aren't just regular containers. If our bodies die, they'll reform after a few months as long as the Horcrux is intact. We don't age, we can heal any wound - as long as we don't get struck by the Killing Curse, we're perfectly fine. Tom's Curse got rebounded and killed him - that I understand, and it explains why his body never reformed. But…"

Minerva's expression became grim. "Let me guess, you don't feel strong Dark or Evil energy coming from ours? You don't hear voices, or fear the threat of possession from mine?"

Mahalu nodded, "Precisely. They're meant to be hidden. Any 'Evil Lady' or 'Evil Lord' worth their salt has a Horcrux. Even some extremely 'good' wixen have them. They're an open secret amongst the strong! But you're not supposed to split your soul more than once! Doing that shreds the rest of you to pieces; mind, body and magic. If that idiot made six, then he's a lot more terrifying than I anticipated. He's adamant about his survival."

She shuddered and fingered the rings a bit, "Honestly I was already taking a big risk by making our Horcruxes into rings and then wearing them. The only reason we can be confident about our safety is my own strength."

Minerva nodded as she stood, drawing her wand and using it to put her hair into a loose bun. "I remember. You said most people just use a gemstone or something and toss it into the Pacific Ocean - but we…" She faltered and sighed, shaking her head. "We wanted to be romantic."

Mahalu managed a weak smile, "Yes, we did. Something I think Ophelia would appreciate. She asked me for advice on asking a girl out. Apparently she likes–"

"Daphne Greengrass," Minerva murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. "Usually I don't admit to having favorites, but Ophelia is one of them. Miss Greengrass is good for her, and honestly they're smitten with one another." She sighed and shook her head, "I suppose we'll see what we can do about Riddle's Horcruxes, yes?"

Mahalu nodded. "Knowing that idiot, they're certainly not at the bottom of the Pacific. After I sent Ophelia on her way, I actually found one in that Room of Requirement. That's how I knew he'd made multiple. I destroyed it, of course - they shouldn't be near children. Besides, I don't fancy teaching a kid only for them to end up the target of some psychopath. If I'd found these after she was a fully trained adult? I'd leave her to it. But she's a kid."

Minerva smiled wryly, "You always did have a strong moral compass." She chuckled a little and shook her head, "I seem to recall being the one who suggested we make Horcruxes. You were the sensible one."

Mahalu grinned as she saw Minerva walk closer to her. "Well, what can I say? Someone needed to rein you in. You were so wild and uncontrollable. It was hot," she teased, waggling her eyebrows.

Minerva laughed a bit before tilting her head and sighing. "Why did we ever break up?" She asked, a small frown on her lips.

Mahalu sighed, gently placing her hand on Minerva's cheek. The other witch didn't object. "You didn't want to be my Queen," she murmured, a sad smile crossing her face. "You wanted to be a hero. You went home to fight in another war."

Minerva hummed, gently pressing her cheek into Mahalu's hand. "I was an idiot," she grumbled, smiling bashfully.

Mahalu chuckled, "A little. But then, that's why I love you."

Minerva hummed as she met Mahalu's scorching red eyes with her own intense electric blues. "'Love', not loved?" She asked, a hint of hope in her voice.

Mahalu smiled and wrapped her other hand around Minerva's waist. "Always, mi corazón," she whispered, her voice husky. Barely a second passed before their lips crashed together with the same burning intensity as the last they'd shared. Mahalu let out a throaty chuckle as she enjoyed the kiss - the warmth she'd so dearly missed, the slight taste of tea, the slight cat-like roughness to Minerva's tongue, and the mesmerizing softness of her lips. Her hands slipped lower to Minerva's hips, pulling her close as her love let out a small, pleased grunt and smiled.

Minerva wrapped her arms over Mahalu's shoulders and around her neck, a deep chuckle slipping out as she broke off the kiss. "Damn, and here I thought I'd gotten over you. You're such a bad influence. Back for one day, and look at what you've done to me," she teased in mock accusation.

Mahalu chuckled in a low growl as she lifted her beloved by the thighs, earning a joy-filled laugh as she set Minerva on her desk. "What can I say? I'm an Evil Wix. I'm up to all sorts of dark… dangerous… intoxicatingthings," she murmured, placing her lips on Minerva's throat with each word, earning soft, pleased hums with each kiss.

Minerva let out a low laugh, cupping Mahalu's cheek. "You're terrible," she murmured.

Mahalu grinned as she placed her hand over Minerva's, gently squeezing it. "So, are we back together?"

Minerva sighed, "That depends."

"On what?" Mahalu asked, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

Minerva grinned as her fangs extended, "On whether or not you've lost your touch."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And then they fu--

Your Kudos cheer for Mahalu getting her girl while your Comments express shock that McGonagall has a Horcrux.

El Dorado: https://discord.gg/w5k4TfFRGG

Next Chapter: Confessions

Chapter 21: Something In The AirChapter TextDaphne's got a certain witch on her mind.

~~~~~Daphne~~~~~

Something In The Air

~~~~~Daphne~~~~~

April 22nd, 1995

Daphne sighed and let herself fall onto her bed, covering her face in her hands.

She'd gone to pick up Ophelia from her therapy appointment, but the other girl had run off, stammering about needing to meet Phoebe. That had stung. She was hoping to actually have a bit of alone time with Ophelia.

Ever since the Second Task, she'd been busier and busier. First it was therapy, which Daphne certainly agreed she needed and was important. But then that witch 'Mahalu' had started making weekly visits to Hogwarts, specifically to train Ophelia. Apparently it was for her aura, but also to help her with her inventing. Daphne was happy for Ophelia…

But she also missed spending as much time with Ophelia as she had before. She missed the joking, the teasing, the sound of her voice… the feel of her hands whenever Daphne managed to grab them… the smell of her shampoo…

Daphne huffed and threw her hands to her sides. She knew she had a crush on Ophelia - a bad one. Ophelia was finally getting therapy, too! She seemed to be doing better, looked happier, and while she still cried sometimes, she never seemed as bothered by dysphoria. She didn't have to hide herself… though that also made Daphne jealous.

She felt awful for it - for feeling like she'd lost some secret, special aspect to her relationship with Ophelia. It was Ophelia's identity. Daphne didn't have any sort of claim over it. Ophelia being 'out' was truly for the best. But…

Maybe it was messed up, but she liked it when Ophelia relied on her. She liked feeling like she was important and irreplaceable to the smaller girl… the sight of her nervous smile when she received praise, and how she squirmed and blushed when it happened… how painfully casual she was about personal space, often leaning close to Daphne and practically torturing her with the warmth of her body and the smell of whatever shampoo or perfume she'd used that day… damnit, she also couldn't deny how utterly maddening it had been to see Ophelia in that swimsuit. Her scars were heartbreaking, but her body left Daphne struggling to remember how to speak.

And then she'd gotten angry.

Anger was a new emotion on Ophelia that Daphne hadn't seen before or since then. It was scary, it was intimidating and it was… really, really fucking hot. Her cold expression, the sheer power she'd radiated. She hadn't even needed to feel the effects of Ophelia's aura to be weak in the knees and left speechless. How did she manage to always look so damned hot?! And then the school had gone and named her 'Winter Queen'? Daphne couldn't help but agree with it, especially since it just made Ophelia cooler.

Which made the gap even more attractive. She could be both extremely sweet, innocent and adorable, and also badass, powerful and scary?

Daphne was fucking lost. Screw snogging Ophelia senseless, she wanted Ophelia to snog her senseless. She let out a little whine and hit her head against a book to try and calm herself down. It wouldn't do to get all riled up in the middle of the day.

Pansy looked up from her own book, an eyebrow arched. "What? Busy pining over Ophelia again?"

Daphne tried to stammer out an objection and Pansy just laughed. "Merlin, girl. You're way too easy to read. I've known you've got it bad for Ophelia for months. So does most of the school after the Second Task. It was kind of hard to miss the fact your eyes were fucking glued to her ass," Pansy commented dryly before she shook her head. "Personally I was a bit more stunned as to how in the world she hid her tits, but whatever floats your boat."

Daphne groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I can't fucking help it. I really, really freaking like her! She's just… just… argh!" Daphne threw her pillow at the headboard of her bed, huffing and shaking her head. "She's pretty! She smells nice! She's strong, and smart, and cool, and just… ngh!" She threw her hands about to show her frustration.

Pansy snorted and set her book down, sitting up a bit more as she grinned at Daphne. "So… ask her out?" She said, a smirk on her face as she said it like it was the most obvious and easy thing in the world.

Daphne let out a frustrated groan, "I can't! She's in a bad mental health state. I don't want to… to fuck up our relationship by asking her out when she isn't in a good place. She's got so much trauma to deal with, she doesn't need me messing it up for her, you know?" She blew some hair out of her face and sighed, picking at her covers a bit. "She deserves for everything to be perfect. I don't want to mess things up for her. Besides, I don't even know if she likes me - and if she doesn't, then I mess up our friendship if I ask her out."

Pansy hummed as she got up with a little grunt before sitting down next to Daphne and leaning over so she could balance her chin in her hands. "Ophelia's seeing a therapist, isn't she?"

Daphne nodded, "Yeah, she is - it looks like he's helping her out a lot, too. She's doing loads better already."

Pansy nodded, "And do you know if she at least likes girls?"

Daphne nodded again, a slight frown appearing on her face. "Uh… yeah, she does. Said she's lesbian - I actually had to sort of confirm it for her twice."

Pansy hummed again, now tapping her cheeks with her fingers. "Right. And does she ever complain about you being around her? Does she ever avoid you?"

Daphne grimaced, "... usually, no. But today… Well, when I walked with her to her appointment she was fine. But when she came out she just… ran. Said something about Phoebe, but… I think it was a lie."

Pansy's lips twitched, "Uh-huh… and was she… blushing, perhaps?"

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Of course she was. It was a therapy session. She's always red-faced after those - they're emotionally intense and she always cries during them. Told me so herself - and no, I didn't press about it. She just… told me." She shrugged, unable to place why it hurt to say that she was a sort of confidant to Ophelia, but it felt like it was related to how the smaller girl had run away from her.

Pansy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fuck, but Daphne you are an idiot. She likes you! She has a crush on you!" She swatted Daphne's arm and scowled, "People talk to their therapists about more than trauma! She probably talked about you today and realized how much she liked you! Do us all a favor and ask her out already, would you? It's driving Tracey and I insane putting up with your stupid pining and sighing! I bet the Gryffindor girls feel the same about Ophelia with you!"

Daphne shook her head, "No, I'm sorry, but I think that's overreaching. She doesn't have a crush on me. I'll try not to… uh… 'pine and sigh' so much, but you're wrong Pansy."

Pansy glared and grumbled at her before heading back to her own bed. "Fine! How's this? Meet me at the Clock Tower tomorrow after lunch. I'll prove to you that she has a crush on you."

Daphne raised an eyebrow before she huffed and rolled her eyes, "Yeah, sure you will, Pansy. Sure you will. But fine, I'll be there."

Pansy scowled at her, "You fucking better."

~~~~~Daphne~~~~~

April 23rd, 1995

I am going to kill Pansy Parkinson, Daphne thought to herself as she tried hard not to panic.

She'd fallen for the most cliché trick in the bloody book. Pansy had gotten her to go to the Clock Tower, apparently lured Ophelia to the same spot, and then locked the door shut behind them. Probably with something extra strong, too, because unlocking runes and spells didn't work.

Daphne groaned and leaned against the wall before she sunk to the floor. "Dammit, Pansy," she groused.

Ophelia frowned at her. She was sitting in a chair she'd conjured, looking nowhere near as bothered as Daphne felt. "What's wrong? It's just a prank. They'll let us out soon enough."

Daphne looked at Ophelia and had to fight not to blush. With the orange afternoon light illuminating Ophelia, her skin looked like it had been kissed by the sun, and her usually jet-black hair was tinted in a way that it seemed more of an immensely dark brown - not to mention those damned eyes. Emerald green and practically seeing into Daphne's soul.

"I just…" Daphne began, before grimacing as her tongue failed her and she struggled for words. Ophelia's slowly budding confidence - the way she sat up straighter, actually met people's eyes, and how her tone was no longer shaky - had started leaving her at a loss for words more and more often. "...I dunno," she mumbled, fidgeting with her skirt.

She should've worn something cuter, but here she was in a boring green plaid skirt, black tights and a white blouse. She didn't even have anything cute underneath! Just a plain white tank top and the like. One of these days she was going to get Pansy back for this.

Ophelia, of course, looked flawless even though her hair was a bit messy and her clothes a tad mussed. Daphne didn't know how, but they just looked casually tousled and tastefully rumpled. Not to mention how the new jumper hugged her curves better, and she wore a pair of fitted jeans. In Daphne's opinion, she looked like a bloody goddess.

Then again, Daphne was also hopelessly, maddeningly infatuated with the girl she was now locked in a room with. Hell, infatuation didn't do it justice.

She was in love. Plain and simple, and it was driving her crazy.

Ophelia got up and moved to sit next to Daphne. The smaller girl had a tiny pink dusting on her cheeks, but that could've just been a trick of the light. The furious red on Daphne's own most certainly could not have. She bumped her foot against Daphne's and the blonde jumped as it felt like lightning ran through her.

Ophelia smirked a little, "Awful jumpy, aren't you? Don't worry, Daphne - I don't bite, promise. Besides, it's a bit chilly." It was not at all, especially not to Daphne, who was now red as a beet.

"O-oh, uh– well, then… um, yeah, right," Daphne stammered as she carefully inched closer to Ophelia, fighting for her life to not actually touch the girl. She felt so bloody… hyper aware of Ophelia! It didn't help that she was totally wearing perfume, too - something citrus. If she was in her right mind, Daphne would be able to place it immediately. Unfortunately, she was less than a couple inches away from Ophelia, and her mind was the consistency of oatmeal.

Ophelia hummed a bit, "We haven't been able to spend much time together - just the two of us. Have we? Even before the Second Task, usually Tracey or Theo or someone was with us." She giggled a little, "It's nice. I like spending time with you."

Daphne forced every single brain cell she had to work together. She refused to say something unintelligent. She would not make a fool of herself, she would not become a blushing mess, she would not forget how to–

"Uh-hm. Uh, y-yeah. It's, er… quiet," she managed. Of course she utterly failed. Though in her defense Ophelia had chosen that exact moment to bump her knee against Daphne's, causing her heart to beat wildly and all semblance of intelligence to fall apart.

Why was she such a mess?! She hadn't been this bad when the crush first formed - not even when she'd found out Ophelia was actually a girl! She'd still been able to talk to her and form intelligent conversation and not turn as red as a tomato!

Steeling her nerves, Daphne somewhat stiffly lifted her arm and wrapped it around Ophelia. Of course that made Ophelia beam at her and she proceeded to immediately clam up as her palms began to sweat badly. Her mind was running several kilometers per second and she was fighting for her life to focus and think, but now Ophelia was closer and warm and soft and driving Daphne absolutely crazy.

Ophelia proceeded to snuggle up against Daphne, causing her to go completely rigid. "Mmm, you're very comfortable, Daphne - and very soft. Maybe we should get trapped alone in a room together more often," she teased, flashing Daphne a sly smile.

For her part, Daphne was trying to remember how to breathe. Which was a bit difficult because now each breath brought the scent of Ophelia's damnably wonderful and amazing perfume. What was it, lemons? Oranges? Whatever it was, it was bloody fantastic.

Then Ophelia gently but firmly grabbed Daphne's awkwardly placed arm and shifted it to wrap around her waist. Daphne was pretty sure she could feel her brain short-circuiting right about then, and that her ears had to have smoke coming out of them. Was Ophelia's waist always this soft? Was it always this warm? Was she always this forward?! Daphne knew her crush's confidence was building, but this much? Really? No, she was just being friendly and trying to have Daphne be as close as she used to be. That was it. That had to be it.

"You know you can loosen up a bit," Ophelia commented as her grin continued to play on her lips. Daphne couldn't help but notice she had gorgeous flecks of dark green and gold in her eyes that made them all the more gorgeous.

"Beautiful," Daphne breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. But then her eyes widened and she froze as she realized what she'd said. She immediately pulled her arm away and backpedaled, putting her back to a corner. "Shit! I'm sorry, I– I shouldn't have said that– I mean, I–"

Ophelia looked… not hurt, but worried. She slowly stood up, a sad look on her face. "Did you… not mean it?" She asked gently, smiling even though her eyes looked pained.

Daphne immediately took an involuntary step forward. "No! No, I– I mean, I did, just– ugh!" She ran her hands through her hair, trying to figure out what to say. "You are beautiful, I mean it. I… I really do."

Ophelia seemed to relax at that, but she hesitated. "Then… Why are you so scared of me? Is… is it because of the Second Task? Did I scare you back then?" Daphne felt her heart twist as she saw the tears pricking at Ophelia's eyes.

"No!" She hurriedly replied, "No, you– you didn't. It was… it was a little intimidating, but– but I wasn't scared. Not of you, anyway. I was scared for you. I… I didn't want you to get hurt." Daphne let out a frustrated groan, "I'm so bad at this, I– Ophelia, I don't… dislike you and I'm not afraid of you or anything, okay? I just…"

Ophelia frowned, but then her face cleared and it was replaced by a relieved smile, "Oh, I think I get it. You're nervous, aren't you?"

Daphne grimaced but nodded, "I am. I…" She sighed and sank to the floor, burying her head in her hands so she wouldn't have to look Ophelia in the eyes while she said this.

"...I like the smell of your perfume," she muttered, and that was the first crack in the dam. "I like the shy way you smile when you get a compliment - it's slow and gradual, but you get this… glow to you, it's just… amazing. I like the way you get so animated when you work on something magical - your projects are out of this world, and I don't always understand them but you're so happy and you just… urgh!" She ran her hands through her hair, still keeping her eyes on the patch of floor between her feet.

She heard Ophelia sit next to her, but this time she didn't pull away. Her heart continued to hammer in her chest, but Ophelia didn't say anything for a moment.

"Daphne. Daphne, look at me."

Daphne grimaced and forced herself to look up. Here it was. Time for her to face the music.

Ophelia had a small smile on her face. Her eyes looked sad, but they were focused intently on her. Has she always been this… intense? This confident and amazing? Well, amazing yes - but the confidence was so… new. It wasn't as strong as others', but on Ophelia it was a drastic shift from the past. She knew Alicia had been helping her with affirmations, and her therapist had to be doing even more to help her, but…

"You remember the day we first met? In the Owlery?" Ophelia asked gently.

Daphne nodded a bit hesitantly, "Uh… yes, I do. You were pretty um… panicked."

Ophelia nodded, "I was. I still had a lot of… well, prejudice against Slytherin back then. But… looking back, the sight of you standing there with Hedwig on your arm? The sunlight shining off your hair? You looked stunning. You're very beautiful, you know."

Daphne began to flush deeply, "I-I, well–"

Ophelia held up a finger, "Just… please? Let me talk?"

Daphne grimaced but nodded. She didn't know where this was going but she didn't want to interrupt Ophelia, either.

Ophelia quirked her lips into a smile, and Daphne couldn't help but notice she had a little bit of makeup on. Nothing fancy, just enough to accentuate her features - as well as a shade of lipstick that darkened her lips by a fraction. Now that she'd noticed, it was immensely hard to take her eyes off of them.

"You've been there for me ever since. You apologized for scaring me, you worried about me with the dragon, you were even wholly supportive when you found out I was trans. Merlin, you wore regular clothes to the Ball to try to help me avoid a panic attack!" Ophelia laughed a little, and it was the most amazing sound in the world. It was light and sounded so… so free. Like there were no strings attached to her mirth, nothing holding her back.

Daphne gave a small, rueful smile, but didn't interrupt as Ophelia continued.

The smaller girl sighed as she shifted how she sat to face Daphne directly, and her expression looked apologetic for a moment. "Daphne… I like you."

Daphne's eyes went wide as she felt like she was punched in the gut. She tried to say something - anything - but the words wouldn't come and all she accomplished was a bit of a strangled gasp.

Ophelia smiled weakly, "I waited to tell you that because I wanted to be in a better mental state - for you, and for me. But I spoke to Frederick yesterday, about how I felt about you - and he told me that if we keep up open communication, I'm not in as bad of a space anymore that I can't try for more. And I really, really want to, Daphne. I'm sorry I ran from you yesterday, I was just so nervous after talking about all that!"

She giggled a bit, and when she opened those gorgeous emerald eyes again they were really hopeful, "So… there it is. I like you. I really, really like you. You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, Daphne - you're one of the only ones who can keep up even half as much with my projects. You always ask questions, and that makes me so happy - I love how much you pay attention and listen. You make everything you do to support me seem so effortless, and you're always in my corner even when I'm not in my corner." She took a deep breath and sighed, giving Daphne a smile that seemed to hold an incredible amount of meaning behind it, "So… yeah. I like you."

Daphne opened and closed her mouth several times, but words failed her. Tears slid down her face that burned with the most intense blush she'd ever had. She took shaky breaths to try and steady herself as she tried to figure out what to say.

Ophelia liked her back. Ophelia liked her back. She– she liked her back!

Daphne wasn't sure what to do, what to say or what to feel. She felt completely out of her depth, and the way Ophelia talked about her - about Daphne - sounded a lot like what she did when she talked about Ophelia.

She needed to say something. Anything. She had to stop holding herself back, but she was so damn scared that she would hurt Ophelia. She…

"I don't want to lose this," she whispered, feeling the most intense pain in her chest. She couldn't help but feel it because she knew what she wanted and what Ophelia clearly wanted, but she didn't want to lose their friendship and love. "I don't want to-to hurt you, I don't want to lose y-you, I–" She choked back a sob and tried to calm herself down with a couple breaths. It didn't work and all it really accomplished was making herself sound hysterical. "You mean so much to me," she managed to continue, her voice thick with emotion and face wet with tears. "I… I don't want to make a mistake, a-a-and–"

Ophelia gently took Daphne's hands into her own. She felt a jolt run through her at the touch. Her hands were impossibly soft and warm, and the touch was extremely gentle. She squeezed Daphne's hands, and it helped calm her. "I know," she murmured softly, giving Daphne a sympathetic look. "I know exactly how you feel, because it's how I felt for months. I don't want to hurt you either, and I don't want to lose our friendship. You mean a lot to me - you mean so, so much to me, Daphne. So… I like you. My question is… do you like me, too?"

Daphne took a shaky breath. Ophelia was taking the first step - she was being brave, and it felt like their roles had been reversed. Daphne was the shaky, sobbing mess, and Ophelia was the one trying to help her forge on ahead.

Daphne slowly closed her eyes. "Yes," she whispered, her voice impossibly soft and small. "Yes, I like you, too."

She felt Ophelia pulling her in, and surrendered to the hug. Ophelia was warm, and despite how small she was the hug was impossibly comforting and helped her relax. She wrapped her arms around Ophelia and took in a deep breath to steady herself. Ophelia's perfume… It had a lime scent. That's what it was. She couldn't help but smile as she remembered it was one of Lavender's welcoming presents to Ophelia when she joined their dorm.

Ophelia sighed happily as she nuzzled into Daphne's neck, causing the blonde girl to blush quite a bit - though she didn't pull away. "You're very jumpy," Ophelia mused, her breath tickling Daphne's neck and making her shudder. "You smell very nice."

Daphne's face burned fiercely, "I-I'm not wearing perfume. It's just my body wash, nothing special."

Ophelia hummed as she pulled away, a smile on her face, "Maybe, but I still like it a lot." She studied Daphne's face for a moment, looking thoughtful as she tilted her head.

"Wh-what is it?" Daphne asked nervously. Did she have a pimple? A scar? Dirt on her nose? What was wrong–

Ophelia kissed her and immediately her mind went completely blank. Daphne's eyes went wide but she didn't pull away - mostly because her entire body felt like it was on fire and being shocked by lightning at the same time. It was the single most incredible feeling in the world, and it didn't last nearly long enough. Ophelia gently pulled away, leaving Daphne's lips missing her warmth and softness, feeling cold and painfully alone.

It wasn't even a proper kiss. It was a brief press, but it immediately had Daphne wanting more. She actually let out a small whine when Ophelia pulled away, leaving the raven-haired girl with an amused smile on those apparently very soft lips. "Was it that good?" She teased, flashing her teeth a little as she laughed a bit.

Fuck it, Daphne thought before she wrapped her arms around Ophelia's waist and yanked the other girl towards her as she let herself fall back. Now she was lying on the floor and a surprised Ophelia was on top of her, her glasses slipping and falling as they bounced off Daphne's face and landed somewhere in the hair that had formed a sort of halo around her head. She grimaced at that, "Shit, was hoping that'd be cooler."

Ophelia chuckled as she carefully placed her hands on the floor on either side of Daphne, evidently being cautious not to pin any of her hair. "You're really cute, you know that?" Before Daphne could object, Ophelia leaned down and kissed her again.

Her mind went back to that blank slate again but she didn't resist and tried her best to kiss Ophelia back. She had no clue what she was doing of course, but damned if she wasn't about to try.

Ophelia's lips were soft, of course. Merlin, everythingabout her was soft, but her lips especially so. They were warm, and wet, and tasted just the tiniest bit of caramel - like Ophelia's favorite sweet, Caramel Corks. They also made Daphne's body feel like it was on fire as she squirmed under Ophelia's kiss. She pressed into the kiss like she was starving and it was a five-course-meal. Which it might as well have been - until that first peck, she hadn't realized how much she wanted this. How much she wanted Ophelia.

Ophelia lifted her head, her smile dazzlingly bright. It was enough to stop Daphne from being upset, and honestly she needed to catch her breath anyway. "Beautiful," Ophelia murmured, staring at her in a way that felt immensely piercing. "You're absolutely beautiful."

Daphne managed a weak laugh, "I'm a mess and I know it." She took another deep breath, her chest heaving, "Gods, I'm red-faced, crying, sweaty and can barely meet your eyes! Plus when you kiss me my mind goes completely fucking blank - stop laughing!"

Ophelia fought to stifle her giggles, and Daphne felt a shiver run down her spine when the smaller girl looked at her, seeming a lot bigger, somehow. Daphne was 40cm taller than her! But she felt like Ophelia was huge in that moment and it made her breath hitch.

"It's all those things that make you beautiful," Ophelia demurred, brushing some of Daphne's hair out of the way as she leaned to the side and rested on her side next to Daphne, still looking down at her. "The awkwardness, the sweating, the blush, the stammering and the way you're finally being open with me and letting me see you cry. Everything you do is beautiful, by virtue of it being… you."

Daphne looked at Ophelia for a long, hard moment even as her blush threatened to set the room on fire. "You got that from one of those romance novels, didn't you?" She accused.

Ophelia snorted as she fell into a fit of giggles, grinning ear to ear. "Nope! Though I'll admit they gave me the idea," she admitted, her eyes lighting up in a way that made butterflies go wild in Daphne's stomach. "But I definitely meant every word of it."

Daphne pouted, but all it did was make Ophelia bend down and kiss her again, leaving her spluttering and stammering while Ophelia giggled like mad.

Despite her frustration, Daphne felt immensely thrilled. She liked Ophelia, and Ophelia liked her back, and that was the perfect reason to smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Woohoo! Finally! Pansy best wingwoman.

Your Kudos congratulate the girls on finally getting together while your Comments pay up on any bets as to who was going to be the Top.

The Clock Tower (of Love): https://discord.gg/w5k4TfFRGG

Next Chapter: 🥚