Chapter 29: Darkness StirringNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextMy personal favorite character from this story–
CW: Death, Referenced Pedophile Nature
~~~~~Mahalu Xochitecatl~~~~~
Darkness Stirring
~~~~~Mahalu Xochitecatl~~~~~
July 1st, 1995
Her second owl in four months. Mahalu was starting to wonder if the British wixen were just out of their minds. But then again, this owl was… different. Pure white, almost - and that gaze… ah. She wasn't a normal owl. She had Caladrius in her. Perhaps a quarter? The owl narrowed her eyes and barked as she held out her leg with the letter attached.
"Alright, alright," Mahalu grumbled as she took the letter. "You're Ophelia's, aren't you? Hedwig? She said she had an owl with a strange amount of attitude."
The owl hooted again - was the accursed thing offended? - before taking flight and leaving. She actually had the nerve to cuff Mahalu with her wing before she left! The Aztec witch was starting to wonder if Minerva's tendency to mess with her had somehow rubbed off not on their shared student, but the girl's familiar of all things. She scowled when Tlāloc smirked at her and flipped him off. Damn him and his knowing smirk. Cheeky bastard.
With a huff, Mahalu opened the letter, not missing the slightly shaky handwriting marring her disciple's usually smooth and elegant script. Ophelia had three types of handwriting. A gnarled scrawl she reserved for notes so she could cram as much as possible into the space provided, a sharp print she used primarily for runic languages that left even Mahalu a bit envious of her practiced confidence (damn her complacency from being a ruler), and an elegant, smooth form that spoke of practiced calligraphy she reserved for her letters.
The shakiness meant something was wrong. She knew the so-called Final Task of the TriWixen Tournament had been hosted about two weeks ago, but Ophelia was incredibly strong. What could have left her shaken after that?
Then she saw that the letter wasn't alone. There was the parchment of the letter, but also four newspaper clippings. She glanced at the clippings first - they were just titles accompanied by photos.
Ophelia Potter - QuadWixen Champion. That was the title accompanying a picture of Ophelia, grimly holding a blue trophy's arm with one hand while the other grasped the hand of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister who seemed far more chipper as he supported the other side of the trophy. Ophelia didn't seem very shaken, or pleased… more hollow, and pensive.
Albus Dumbledore claims You-Know-Who's Return - promptly removed from ICW & Wizengamot! This one showed a picture of the old goat himself looking solemn and - for once in his life - wearing actually appropriate and sensible robes. He seemed grim and aged. Not for the first time, Mahalu wondered how the man could look so old. He was barely over a century. She and Minerva looked under thirty despite both being nearly seventy. Was Albus truly so weak? She glanced at the third and her eyes widened.
Ophelia Potter - actually Ophelia Meadowes?! Criminal Plot to implicate Girl-Who-Lived in Line Theft unveiled! Ophelia looked hollow and shaken. A man stood by her, expression tense as he placed a hand protectively on her shoulder while they walked through what must be their Ministry. Holding Ophelia's hand was a girl with blonde hair that looked calm but had a look in her eyes that spoke of a homicidal fury Mahalu had only ever seen sparingly in her life. That must be Hannah, making the man Lord Abbott.
Girl-Who-Lived separates self from Dumbledore! Claims he framed 'Imperial Three!' The photo showed neither Ophelia nor Albus, but a trio of mugshots for three women. One with brown hair and oddly sharp gray eyes, her broken glasses propped atop her head. The plaque she held read 'Marlene McKinnon'. A scarred black woman with knowing blue eyes and a dark expression held a plaque labeling her 'Dorcas Meadowes'. Last was a woman with burn scars on her throat and collar, her expression fierce and unyielding while her plaque denoted her as 'Marianne MacDonald'.
Meadowes? Was Jamie Potter somehow infertile? For once, Mahalu was at a loss. She set the clippings on one arm of her throne and went to open the letter when something fell out. Clearly Ophelia knew her nearly as well as Minerva did if she was already preparing more answers to questions - that something was the results sheet of a Lineage Test. A scan told her all she needed to know about Ophelia's lineage if nothing else. She looked at the photos again, and couldn't deny that the resemblance between Dorcas and Ophelia was uncanny. Dorcas' face was a bit more angular, but then again, Ophelia had some baby fat left.
Her curiosity at its peak, Mahalu finally focused on the letter.
Mahalu,
I'm not sure if you opened this first or checked out the other stuff. I recommend checking the other stuff first. It gives a good frame of reference, I guess? Sorry, my mind's been frayed. I only penned this letter… uh. Today. June 26th. Tournament's been over for nine days, and Grandpa - Lord Abbott - well. He's worked fast since the Lineage Test I took about a week ago.
Which. Yeah. I'm a Meadowes, not a Potter. Not a drop of nobility in me. Is it weird that I don't mind that? I still own the money, apparently. I just don't get the political seat - and that's no real loss, if you ask me. Anyway, I guess I'm more upset that it turned out Dumbledore was trying to set me up for Line Theft so he could blackmail me. He was going to try and make me publicly declare Tom's return.
Which. Happened. Yeah. He used Blood Alchemy after turning the Cup you see in that one clipping into a Portkey. And we duelled. No, I'm not really sure why I survived. Honestly I think he let me escape. He was polite, and even offered to let me join him. Obviously I said no, but apparently the offer's staying open and he'll protect my friends and family. Am I sick for considering this now that it turns out Dumbledore's this psychotic manipulator? I feel sick with myself. Tom murdered my Mum - one of them - and Jamie Potter. I hate him for that, but… fuck. I feel so bloody lost, Mahalu. I don't know who to turn to. I can't very well just pick up all my friends and family and abandon the country, can I?
…Can I?
Sorry. Sidetracked.
I need help and advice. I want to save my Mums. Dorcas, Marlene, and Mary. They don't deserve Azkaban - Dumbledore does. I want to get them out and Amelia Bones has offered to help, but says she needs evidence of Dumbledore's guilt or that the Imperius wasn't used. They can't reliably trust spells to check what their wands last cast because 'It could have been any wand' and 'They used dozens when resisting arrest'. Grandpa and Minerva have tried to make Dumbledore fess up, but he's already in hot water over the Line Theft and has totally ignored them both. Minerva's threatened to have him ousted as Headmaster, and she thinks he's caving. Part of the reason we made my new Lineage public - beyond transparency to avoid a Line Theft charge - was to actually see if maybe that would help my Mums. Not necessarily by convincing the Ministry… but if Tom wants me to join him, and he needs more wands on his side, I think he may try to raid Azkaban. If he does… maybe these articles will tempt him to 'rescue' them. Or hold them hostage to blackmail me. Either way… they'd be alive and away from Azkaban.
I feel so lost, Mahalu. Lost and powerless. The Ministry is corrupt and Dumbledore is playing chess with people's lives. Mine especially. I feel like a pawn on his chessboard, even without being in contact with the man.
Do you have any advice? Something I can study or learn? I've been practicing with Mjølnir, Roarfrost, Fiendfyre, and all sorts of other spells. Daphne, Pansy, Azalea, and lots of others have sent me loads of books filled with spells I'm learning. Not all of them are strictly legal, but I know that to you it just means they're actually worth my time. But all of this just feels like it makes me magically stronger. How does this help me save the people important to me?
Needing your help,
Ophelia Johanna Collette Meadowes
P.S. That was my first time signing my new name. It felt weird.
Mahalu took a deep breath before exhaling as she methodically packed all the papers back into the envelope, sealing it and slipping it into a pocket. She stood and summoned her wand almost lazily, efficiently casting a spell to locate where Tom was hiding. It took mere moments to pinpoint his location.
"Tlāloc, I've got business with my disciple. Try not to do anything stupid," she told the man, causing him to give a lazy wave as she twisted on her heel and Disapparated.
~~~~~Mahalu Xochitecatl~~~~~
"You took longer than I expected," Tom remarked dryly as Mahalu strode into the Main Hall of Malfoy Manor. A few others were in the room - Lucius was on all fours, his wife was holding their son by the shoulders in a corner, Nott and Parkinson were against the back wall… of course, anyone truly worthwhile was in Azkaban. Except for Snape - but based on the glazed look to his eyes from the seat he was in, he wasn't in a talking mood.
"I only got Ophelia's letter just now," she replied, sitting on the table and ignoring the looks of fear she was given as she addressed Tom casually. "Kid's having a panic attack, and considering the goat's manipulations, I'm half-tempted to murder the both of you and save her the trouble. Lucky you, Tom - I've grown soft in my age."
"I'm pretty sure you grew soft because of Minerva, actually. Knowing you, age would just make you more hotheaded," Tom replied smoothly as he studied his wand for a moment before looking back at Mahalu. "But you're not wrong. Albus overstepped. I can understand being manipulative - once you become strong enough, it's an unfortunate necessity - but he takes it too far. He's gone from pushy to controlling. Ophelia nearly earned herself a one-way ticket to Azkaban. It would be impossible to hold her there, but public condemnation would shatter her psyche."
Mahalu arched an eyebrow. "One duel and you're that in her head?" She asked skeptically. Tom gestured to one of his men - Barty Junior. A quick scan of his magical signature explained it. "You're fucking kidding me - you had a Death Eater under Albus' nose this whole time? I knew he was weak, but fuck," she swore before turning sharply to look at Severus. "And him? What happened to this… excuse for a man?"
Tom scoffed. "You're generous. I hear Ophelia called him a greasy bat," he replied casually with a roll of his eyes. "He was a piece of garbage, Mahalu. Obsessed with Lily Evans to the point of stalking. Get this - when I tore his mind to shreds? Turns out his thoughts were far more disturbing. As in Ophelia, if you catch my drift."
Mahalu frowned in confusion before it struck. She pointed her wand at the man whose mind had been shattered. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" She roared. The green light struck and Snape went from slumped to utterly sagging in his chair as the life left his body. She then incinerated it before vanishing the ashes as disgust roiled through her. She let out a string of curses in Nahuatl, stomping on the spot where his ashes had been. "...A CHILD! MY FUCKING DISCIPLE YOU SICK PIECE OF–"
"Mahalu," Tom said, his voice pained. She glared at him. "I understand your disgust, believe me. Frankly I intended to do the same but I wanted to figure out how to pass the message to Ophelia. She has strong Occlumency shields, but the disgust she showed when I mentioned Severus was enough for me to tear apart his shields and shatter his mind. But for now can you reel in your aura? I need as many followers as I can get."
Mahalu huffed and reined her aura in. The assembled wixen let out simultaneous sobs as their minds stopped being assaulted by vivid and horrid hallucinations. Tom ordered them to leave and they did as he bid, with Nott and Parkinson lifting Lucius and carrying him out, leaving the two Dark Wixen alone.
The silence pervaded until Tom spoke. "I checked on my Horcruxes. Or should I say, Horcrux? All but Nagini were destroyed. I'd be upset, but honestly I only created several to act as traps for Albus. I figured he would hunt them down and be damaged by the trappings. The Nightmare Pensieve Potion for the locket, the Decay Curse and Compulsions on the ring… how did you even break into Gringotts for the cup, anyhow?"
Mahalu huffed, sitting back down - but in a chair this time. "The kobold nation owed me a favor. I cashed in," she replied boredly, running a hand down her face. "After the third I realized you'd made copies of your mind before making them. That's how you retained your sanity, isn't it? You replaced your fragmented mind with the copies after you made the Horcruxes. That was incredibly genius, but dangerous as well, Tom."
He shrugged casually. "I figured being able to have my mind in each Horcrux would be more efficient. Nagini is the sole exception - talking to myself would be proof I'm insane, wouldn't it?" He snarked before shaking his head. "Regardless, all I intend for right now is to try and rebuild my following and see if I can't recruit Ophelia."
Mahalu snorted. "Ironically, you may have a chance," she said bitterly.
Tom's head snapped up. "What do you mean?" He asked, obviously hopeful. "So far I'd been resigned to the fact that she'll surpass me in a mere few years and I'll pretty much be alive at her whim. I'm trying to ingratiate myself to her - hence Snape. Do I have an opening?"
Mahalu pulled out the envelope and then opened it. She took out the Lineage Test and the two clippings regarding Ophelia's parents. "Three women who she loves despite not knowing them. Locked away in Azkaban without good reason. Muggleborn, and it's the fault of Dumbledore and your followers who didn't go to that hellhole that they're in there. I know you're planning to break Azkaban open. Ophelia knows. Bust them out and you have an in. Don't try to blackmail or manipulate her. Protect those women from your followers - do the same for anyone that could be Ophelia's friends. Make it look like those people are powerful or got lucky, but make sure Ophelia gets the message. You want to live? You don't want her vaporizing you on the spot? Do everything you can to make up for killing Lily Evans and Jamie Potter."
Tom studied the papers for a long moment before setting them down and steepling his fingers. "Easy enough, but… Albus was truly involved?" He said, expression disgusted. "I knew some of my followers had gone pathetic and claimed the Imperius… if the Aurors have harmed those women–"
"They've never been given so much as a chance," a voice called out. Mahalu was hardly surprised to see Minerva. The woman glared at Tom and nodded to Mahalu. "I always knew those three were innocent. It's why I've loathed Albus so long. They're under my protection in Azkaban. Wards, Patroni, the like. The Aurors wouldn't dare lay a wand or hand on them. And if they tried, their bodies would turn to ash," she growled, glaring at Tom. "Tom."
"Minerva," he greeted her politely, none of the venom and hate she used in his own voice. "I'm glad to see you arrived. I suppose I should tell you that Severus is dead. I shattered his mind and your lover finished him off," he informed her with a casual gesture towards Mahalu.
"He was having thoughts about Ophelia. I should have restructured his mind and brought him to El Dorado. Tlāloc loves torturing," Mahalu hissed before slamming her fist on the table. It creaked.
Minerva took off her glasses, her fey appearance returning. "If I'd known, I'd have killed him, and Albus as well for harboring such scum," she mused, her tone even and measured. "As it stands, I'm threatening to oust him from Hogwarts so I can try and wrangle a confession regarding Ophelia's mothers and their innocence. Though murder is more tempting seeing as he called them 'just a few women'. Sexist prick."
Tom sighed and shook his head. "Why anyone follows him is beyond me. He only killed Gellert because of the fact the man killed his sister. That shouldn't have earned him such a fanatic following. He pulled strings, no doubt," he mused before looking thoughtfully at the table. "In a year, Ophelia will be strong enough for me to invite her to this table outright. Allegrata would throw a fit if she knew a witch that is effectively Muggleborn is capable of matching if not surpassing all of us."
Minerva studied him carefully. "If you hadn't killed Lily and Jamie, I might have been convinced to like you, Tom," she said with a sigh. "As it stands I have to hate you on principle. But if Ophelia befriends you, do know that I'll murder you the moment you upset her - assuming she doesn't beat me to it."
"I'd be offended if you didn't," Tom replied casually as he drummed his fingers against the table. "Is the Order of the Phoenix assembling? Severus had no idea."
Minerva sighed and rubbed her face. "Trying. Very few are willing to be near Albus. Sirius gave him Grimmauld as a sort of insult since he'd let it go to waste. Of course, Albus brought Molly Weasley in and she's made a nuisance of herself trying to control the household. Emmeline, Tonks, Shack, and Insom are new faces, but they're very obviously on Ophelia's side - not Albus'. The Order is fragmented. Albus' allies want to prioritize unity and trying to defeat you - Ophelia's want Albus to own up to his mistakes and set her mothers free. Of course, Albus was being Albus and tried to shame them for feeling that way when there were 'more important things'. I do believe Miss Abbott deserves a reward for how succinctly she tore into him for that."
Mahalu raised an eyebrow. "The blonde in this photo?" She held up the clipping. "I'd thought her eyes were interesting. They hold… homicidal fury. She's far more brutal than her appearance suggests. I don't think it would be wrong to liken her status as best friend to Ophelia to our own relationship, Minerva. Albeit platonic. She'll become strong as she gets older."
Minerva nodded as she glanced at the photo. "Hannah Abbott. Thick as thieves, her and Ophelia. If that poor girl never endured the trauma she did, no doubt she and Hannah would have menaced Hogwarts beyond belief," she said with a tired, regretful sigh. "But I believe the memory is better seen than relayed. I'm sure you two will appreciate hearing her tear into Albus."
She tapped her temple and flung the silvery memory out, expanding it with a wordless spell. A sort of holographic layout of a kitchen appeared - Ophelia, Lord Abbott, Hannah, and Minerva were on one side of the table. The other had Albus, a redheaded woman, a pair of men Mahalu didn't recognize, and Mundungus Fletcher.
Tom raised an eyebrow. "Where did Albus get those scars?" He asked while the memory stayed paused before Minerva played it.
"Daphne Greengrass struck him upon discovering he abandoned Ophelia to an abusive household as a baby," Minerva informed him. Mahalu shot her a narrow-eyed look. "We'll kill them later, Mahalu - not now," she said blithely before playing the memory.
"You need to admit it, Dumbledore. You hurt me! You hurt my family!" Ophelia cried, voice shaking with agony. "You left my Mums to rot! You're a monster! Minerva's the only reason they weren't tortured or worse!"
The Memory Minerva straightened and glared at Albus when he fixed her with a look of disappointment. "I've always known they were innocent, Albus. Don't be so upset by my 'lack of faith'. I haven't had faith in you ever since I met Mahalu," she told him coldly, removing her hat and incinerating it. "Tracking charms and listening charms, Albus? Really? I'd be annoyed if they weren't so easy to fool."
Albus sighed wearily, as if he were exhausted. "We haven't the time for this, Minerva. Miss Potter. Defeating Tom is of paramount importance - the rest can come later," he said, tone insistent.
Tom scowled at the use of his first name. Mahalu knew he had given the courtesy to few. Ophelia using it in her letter was proof she was one of them. The other two were observing the memory with him.
"The freedom of my mothers isn't important, then?" Ophelia asked, tone dangerously sharp. Mahalu wasn't sure whether the girl would cry or lash out. She hoped the latter - but the former would admittedly be a more stable and healthy expression of her emotions. "Righting the wrong you made isn't important? They're in Azkaban, Dumbledore! That's no place to live! Minerva can't keep them alive on her own!"
Memory Minerva didn't correct Ophelia. It would be no true strain to do so, but hiding the extent of her abilities from Albus was no doubt the wiser choice. "You owe her this, Albus. You owe them this. You think losing Chief Warlock was bad? Supreme Mugwump? I can have you out of Hogwarts faster than you can say 'Lemon Drop'," she instead warned, tone ice cold and gaze like steel.
The redheaded woman made a scandalized sound. "Minerva! If you remove Dumbledore, who will protect our kids from You-Know-Who?! He is a monster! The moment he has the chance he'd capture Hogwarts and turn it into a ruin!" She shrieked, obviously upset and aggravated. The others on Albus' side began to chip in, berating Minerva and Ophelia for their behavior. Barely ten seconds in, Hannah took a step forward.
"Quiet!" She shouted, her voice sharp and clear. The adults looked at her in surprise before she met their gaze - they all flinched away, obviously terrified by the bloodlust within. "You're all pathetic. Professor McGonagall wouldn't have to stoop so low if your 'fearless leader' wasn't such a cowardly man," she said scathingly, glaring at Albus as she spoke. He didn't flinch, but Mahalu saw his hand tremble.
"There are innocent women suffering in prison. My best friend's mothers. You can do something to fix that, and you won't. You act like your hands are tied and there are more important things. So what if Voldemort's back?!" Those adults flinched and Hannah's hand trembled, but when Ophelia took it she seemed to fortify herself. "He's not doing anything. If he does, he'll probably go after Azkaban so he can free his followers! AND THAT PUTS OPHELIA'S MUMS AT RISK! It's tied together, but you're too selfish to care. All you want is for us to be your puppets. Not anymore, Albus Dumbledore. Not anymore. I hope when karma comes for you, that it hurts like a bitch." She turned on a heel and marched out, followed by a swiftly receding Ophelia. Lord Abbott lingered long enough to scowl at Albus before he left.
Memory Minerva took two steps forward, leaned over the table and gave a feral grin. "You've just been told off by a teenage girl, Albus. I suppose that high and mighty image of yours is pretty flimsy after all, isn't it?" She stood and brushed herself off, looking distastefully at the assembled adults. "Go somewhere else to host your meetings. Grimmauld Place is officially no longer for your use. The Order of the Phoenix is banned."
The memory cut off at that, the present Minerva looking rather smug. "After that I went to Amelia and Cornelius and managed to wrangle exoneration for Sirius, but I can't push my luck on Ophelia's mothers. Cornelius bends, he doesn't break," she admitted with a sigh. "All the same, I'm quite proud of Miss Abbott for standing up to him like that."
Tom let out an appreciative whistle. "I must say, I can see why Ophelia befriended her. That kind of fire is a good complement to her," he commented thoughtfully as he tapped a finger against his chin. "Though I must say, I'm disappointed by how much they villainize me. I don't target children - mostly. Ophelia was an exception due to that prophecy. Had I known Trelawney was a Seer and not an Oracle, I would not have done what I did," he clarified at the sharp looks he received.
"Hm. Either way things will be difficult for you if you want to make Ophelia tolerate you. That memory at least proves breaking into Azkaban and freeing her mothers would serve you well to get into her good graces," Mahalu said as she studied her nails, not really caring one way or another what happened to Tom. "Though I do believe I may need to be more present in the Isles starting now."
"Somehow I doubt it will be to support me," Tom snarked, faking offense. Mahalu flipped him off and addressed Minerva instead.
"I take it you need a new Defence Professor?"
Minerva arched an eyebrow. "Yes, we do. But Albus would never hire you, Mahalu. He despises you. He only tolerates me because removing me would destroy him through public opinion - not to mention the fact the fool actually thinks himself stronger than I," she replied, casually lifting her legs and placing her feet in Mahalu's lap with a smirk.
The Aztec woman rolled her eyes. "Let me handle Albus," she said airily. "Those children need a decent teacher, and with your Ministry so against Albus I wouldn't put it past them to organize it so one of their own is in the position and they try to make him look bad by intentionally doing a poor job of it. It could work, depending on the level of corruption. But regardless, we can't let the children themselves suffer. This country will be trapped in war soon enough. Perhaps Tom won't attack the children, but we can't say the same for Albus, now can we?"
Tom shook his head. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. He's hardly moral, but he treasures his image. I can't speak for his followers, but those of mine who aren't in Azkaban certainly aren't above harming children. Those who are, most likely have lost their minds to the point of not caring if they would have before," he mused with another shake of his head. "If I had it my way, I'd just round them all up and kill them myself. Unfortunately that would be challenging, and leave me without a true fighting force to bring about change."
"What, are you seriously still intent on inciting revolution?" Minerva asked, aghast. "Tom, your chance at that is gone. Half of your sympathizers stopped being such when you killed the Potters. You would be hated for decades if you installed yourself as the new Minister," she warned him, her gaze steely.
"I wouldn't," Tom replied calmly, crossing his legs as he clasped his hands together atop the table, the picture of poise. "I'd actually install Ophelia or one of her allies if I could. I've had time to think on it, and she's the best chance I have at pulling this off without causing anarchy. Her friend, Granger? She's muggleborn - she'd be picture proof that Ophelia has their best interests at heart. The magical world needs to be fixed and improved, and that means no more blood purism and fanatical hatred of all things mundane. I'm well aware of how many wixen go back to the muggle world when all is said and done - it's disgusting and disappointing. We could be far greater and have much less reason to fear and be wary of muggles if we actually embraced the wixen we've been condemning all this time."
Mahalu sighed and shook her head. Tom was right. Even just compared to El Dorado, the British Isles were laughably behind. Every wix was equal under her reign, and as a result their magic was so advanced that even nuclear bombardment wouldn't be able to harm her city. But the Isles were fragile at best. They still relied on Obliviations rather than simply teach their children how to preserve secrecy - not to mention the fact that they had a potion they used explicitly to force someone to speak the truth. Thankfully, according to Minerva, the last Veritas had gone into hiding and was refusing to donate her hair. Small victories.
Worst of all, however, was indeed the rampant blood purism and the incest that followed. Mahalu was disgusted that such a thing existed. Particularly when it was well-known worldwide that the healthier the bloodline, the more powerful the magic. It was why those born to mundane families often held the most power and talent - they were granted magic by the gods themselves, not by their parentage. Ophelia's strength was admittedly a bit anomalous - rarely did a child born to two 'muggleborns' possess as much power and talent as she. But if it could happen to Mahalu, it could happen to her student.
She sighed and gently pushed Minerva's feet off her lap before standing. "It's time I got going. I'll check in on Ophelia. Maybe give her a lesson or something. I'm worried about her. With everything going on, her mental health can't be in a good place," she said while going to Disapparate.
"Have you truly grown to care so much for the girl?" Tom asked, visibly surprised.
Mahalu snorted. "How could I not? She's a talented, powerful witch. She reminds me of myself when I was young - and of Minerva. Lost, afraid, and not sure how to use her power to do the right thing. Besides, very few impress me to the degree she has. Her ingenuity, her creativity… and she has friends. A great deal of them. The closest I have to a friend is Tlāloc, and he's more of a pain in my ass."
"She is rather like us, isn't she?" Minerva mused as she stood as well, offering her arm to Mahalu. She accepted it. "We can go together. She's my student as well - I'm sure she'd accept that reasoning for my checking in."
Mahalu looked over her shoulder. "Keep our words in mind, Tom. And make sure your followers stay in line. If they try to harm Ophelia's mothers or friends, she'll blame you - and rightly so. You have the power to keep them in line. Use it, why don't you?" She remarked, not waiting for his reply as she twisted her heel and vanished right alongside the woman she loved.
If all went well, Tom would do as she said. Ophelia needed a break, and some reassurance. She'd done what she did to coax him into helping. Maybe Mahalu had helped it along… but so what?
A proper teacher looked out for their disciples.
Notes:WHAMMY TIME, BABY.
Discord: https://discord.gg/w5k4TfFRGG
Next Chapter: Ophelia gets some more of that 'therapy' thing.
Chapter 30: Healing Old WoundsNotes:Ophelia has to deal with more therapy, as well as love and attention. Oh noez.
Note: Ophelia's eating disorder is what we would now call ARFID (Avoidant-Restrictive Food Intake Disorder). However that term does not exist yet in 1996, it wasn't considered a proper diagnosis until 2013. So in the meantime, Frederick had to make use of what he does know to try and help Ophelia.
CW: Trauma, Child Abuse mention, Eating Disorders, (Unintentional) Internalized Ableism, Slur Mention (Ableist, Transphobic, Blood Purist)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text~~~~~ Ophelia Meadowes ~~~~~
Healing Old Wounds
~~~~~ Ophelia Meadowes ~~~~~
July 5th, 1995
"Hello, Ophelia. How have you been?" Frederick asked kindly as he sat at the chair by her desk. They had begun to meet in her study for these appointments, which still left Ophelia jarred as she hadn't fully acclimated to the concept of having a study. Or really having any space to herself, and now she had a bedroom, bathroom, study, and a lab for her experiments. It was overwhelming at best.
"Not… the worst?" Ophelia replied, her voice rising an octave at the end. In reality she had been shaken ever since Dumbledore had said he wouldn't be lifting a finger to help her mothers. "I just… I've got a lot on my mind," she admitted with a nervous laugh, fidgeting with the bracelet on her wrist. A gift from Lady Abb– Grandmother, she corrected herself. A gift from Grandmother.
Frederick gave her an understanding smile. "That's quite understandable. I won't pretend I didn't notice the news regarding your parentage - most especially your mothers. We haven't had the chance to talk about that yet. Would you like to? Or shall we discuss something else today?"
She gave a weak half-shrug. "I guess we can talk about them? I haven't really sorted out all the things I feel about it just yet," she admitted, gaze flitting about. Whenever she actually talked about her feelings like this she could feel her mask slipping away, and it got pretty hard to meet people's eyes. Especially Frederick's - he always seemed to see right through her. It wasn't bad,per se - but it was incredibly unnerving.
"How about you start by telling me what you have sorted out?" Frederick suggested.
"Yeah, okay," Ophelia agreed, taking a deep breath before she continued. "Um… I-I feel happy, for sure. Knowing I still have family - or I guess more family - out there, it… it's different. I really appreciate everything Hannah and her grandparents have done for me, I do. It just… I can't help wishing I was actually able to live with my Mums. But…" She took a shakier breath as some tears fell and she fought off a choked sob. "...They're in Azkaban. But they're innocent. I… Grandfather told me he was pretty sure Dumbledore was framing them so he could manipulate me. Set me up to take the fall for line theft so I'd be his… his puppet," she spat out the last word, sickened to her core as she trembled. "He sent my innocent Mums to Azkaban so he could stay in control. And now there's no way to free them unless he admits that he lied, and he won't! He cares more about his reputation than my own family-" Her voice cracked at the end and she sobbed, covering her mouth and nose as she tried to calm herself down, but it was hard to accomplish when the subject got her so worked up.
"Deep breaths, Ophelia," Frederick instructed gently. While Ophelia worked on the slow, deep breaths she used to steady herself, he continued. "I think for now we should consider Dumbledore a strong trigger for you, as he has clearly taken on an antagonistic and abusive role in your life. It's good that you have people like Hannah and her family on your side. That's great. Let them be your strength - your emotional strength and support - so that you can work on finding a way to prove your mothers' innocence, okay?" He said kindly, a warm smile on his face again.
Ophelia nodded slowly, wiping her tears away. "They do a lot for me," she muttered before speaking up. "They gave me this room, and a bedroom, my own bathroom– even a lab. It… it's a lot," she admitted shakily. "I've never… had this much before. All I took with me from the– from my old place was my trunk of school stuff and Hedwig. I didn't… I didn't have anything else to take with me, you know?" She sniffled again, a wet smile on her face as she looked at the owl-shaped bookshelf by the writing desk she used for blueprints. "They've made all the gifts feel… right. Like they're meant for me. I dunno how I'll ever repay them…"
"Have they asked you to?" Frederick asked gently, a knowing smile on his face. "Or have they been telling you not to think about doing that?"
Ophelia flushed, knowing she'd been caught. "Okay… they don't want me to. But… I should! They've given me so much, and I just feel like I'm intruding, it…"
"You aren't, Ophelia," Frederick interrupted her. "They want you to feel welcome, that's why they're making sure you feel included and loved. Do they give you anything they don't give Hannah?"
"Well, no, but–"
"Then how could you be intruding?" He interrupted her again, calm as ever. "Ophelia, from what I've seen, the Abbotts are thrilled to take care of you. They love you quite dearly - Hannah especially. You two have a wonderful bond that seems mutually beneficial, which is a sign of a good relationship. Have you considered that while maybe the Abbotts have provided you with a lot of physical gifts, they could simply be equivalent to what they get out of it? You're a remarkable young woman, Ophelia - intelligent, kind, protective, and caring. With all you've done for Hannah on top of that, they likely consider all that they've given you to be exactly what you deserve for how much you've supported their granddaughter," he said, his words striking uncomfortably close to the truth.
Ophelia had shared similar anxieties to Hannah a few days prior, and she'd told Ophelia she deserved more. Her grandparents loved having her there, and wanted to make sure she felt comfortable and safe. The rooms had been standard, as Hannah had the same in addition to a storage room with mementos, old toys, and the like. The new wardrobe was 'just the bare minimum', and it was odd getting used to clothes that not only fit, but were comfortable. The cotton shirt she wore under her unzipped jumper was soft, and so was the jumper itself. They didn't feel like they were agitating and scratching her skin. The jeans she wore were comfortable and fit snugly without having frayed knees, old stains, or needing a belt.
Everything was so… much. She had a terrifyingly soft bed - so soft that she actively had to sleep on a bundled blanket on the floor some nights because it made her restless to have such luxury. The blankets, wood, and even the paint used for the walls were all colours of her own choosing - cream and almond brown, which were gentle on her eyes and didn't cause headaches. The rooms were also huge. She didn't know how she'd ever need so much space. Hannah apparently made use of hers well, but it looked oddly un-crowded and made Ophelia uneasy, seeing things so widespread.
She told Frederick as much.
He tapped his pen against his chin, looking thoughtful. "Is it because you're not used to having so much space, maybe?" He asked, "Or is it possible that because your fight-or-flight response was constantly active with your previous caretakers that it makes you uneasy to be unable to grab everything and go?"
Ophelia opened her mouth to object, but… she couldn't. He was right. She gave a subdued nod, guilt wracking through her.
Frederick smiled sadly. "Ophelia, you don't need to run anymore. The Abbotts seem very devoted to your care and recovery, as my presence suggests," he said with a slightly amused chuckle before looking at her thoughtfully. "Ophelia, do you think maybe it would help if you had a Go bag?"
"A Go bag?" She echoed, confused.
"A backpack filled with the essentials, only for emergencies. You can even specifically prepare what you'd need only for the bag. A clean toothbrush, blanket, the like. That way you're still prepared for emergencies,but you can still have somewhere you know you can call home," he explained, his gaze full of obvious worry. "The point of it would be that you know where it is and you know that it's only meant for if this house is unsafe, with the stipulation that you remind yourself it's not because you don't trust the Abbotts, but because you're concerned about external sources of danger. Would that help?"
Ophelia was a bit surprised at the idea, but she immediately thought that it sounded like a good one. "Yeah, okay - I can try that," she agreed, a small smile appearing. "It might help with my anxiety. It's… been a little hectic for me lately," she admitted, subconsciously standing so she could pace.
Frederick watched her for a moment before he spoke. "Are you still relying on pain relief runes for your leg?" He asked, his tone not accusatory.
Ophelia froze, her left hand subconsciously going to the same side's hip where she had inscribed the rune sequence. She was quiet for a long moment. "Yes," she said softly. "It's the only way I can walk without limping or stumbling. I just… I don't know what else I can do."
Frederick nodded in understanding. "Well, have you had a full medical diagnostic scan done for the wounds and scars you've suffered through your life so far?" He asked.
"No, not yet," she admitted.
"I would suggest starting there. Have the Healers give you a list of your treatment options, and have them send the results and the same list to me so we can go over them together and see what would be best for your mental health, in addition to your physical health," he explained, scratching some more notes on his pad. "If you'd like, I can speak to Joshua - Lord Abbott - for you about it, but it would be better to do this sooner than later. If you keep relying on those runes, I'm worried you may develop symptoms akin to narcotic addictions, which would be detrimental to your health."
Ophelia grimaced, shifting as she sat back down on the couch she kept in the room. "...I don't want to lose any freedom," she admitted softly. "I don't… I don't want to lose out on anything."
Frederick looked up, but he didn't seem surprised. "You don't want to need a wheelchair?" He prompted gently, and Ophelia nodded. "I can understand that, but you're looking at it with a very negative mindset, Ophelia. A wheelchair isn't limiting, it's a device - a mobility aid - meant to help those who struggle walking or suffer pain when walking, so that they can live fulfilling, pain-free lives. They're the opposite of limiting, actually. Besides that, a wheelchair is only one of the options you may be offered. Perhaps they'll suggest a leg brace or even forearm-crutches, both of which will need their own acclimation periods, but either way the priority is making sure you don't agitate the old wounds and cause even worse permanent damage than you've already suffered."
She sagged in her seat a bit, feeling tears slide down her face. Frederick was right, she'd just… "I'm scared," she whispered. "I'm scared people will yell at me again. Hate me. Sally-Anne Perks was blind and she was bullied so much that she left Hogwarts before she even finished first year. I-I don't want– I don't– I can't–" She began to hyperventilate as sobs interrupted her breathing and she hiccuped, wrapping her arms around herself as her vision blurred.
It took moments for Frederick to firmly take her arms and gently but surely pull them away from around herself. "Breathe, Ophelia. Slowly. Come on, breathe. In… out… in… out…" He guided her, helping her come down from the panic attack. Ophelia forced herself to try and follow the breathing exercise, still shaking and trembling as broken sobs fought their way through, but she got through it all the same. "That's it… breathe. There you go. I'm going to let go now, okay?" Ophelia nodded and he released her hands, going back to the chair he'd used.
"I-I'm sorry," she muttered, drying her eyes with a sleeve.
"It's okay, Ophelia. You got upset, and it's understandable why," he replied calmly, his smile sad. "I'm sorry to hear about Miss Perks. Were you close with her?"
Ophelia shrugged. "A bit? She spent most of her time with Hermione, Hannah, or me. She was a Gryffindor. A few kids made fun of her, and it bothered her a lot. Even… even he made fun of her. The Potions Professor. She tried her best and Hermione or I always tried to help her, but… the bad Slytherins always made fun of her," she replied, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. It was a touch awkward with how large her chest was. "So she left. She and her family moved to Canada and she started attending a school in Québec. We exchange letters - apparently they have spells to read out the text on a page, and she uses Dicta-Quills to write hers." She gestured to a corkboard that had been stuck to the wall with an overpowered Sticking Charm. In the top-left corner were an array of forty letters, put back into their envelopes.
Frederick smiled as he looked at the corkboard. "It sounds like you're a very good friend to her, even in spite of the distance," he told her kindly as he scribbled some more notes. "Do you think you have friends that good?"
Ophelia flushed in surprise, not expecting that. "Um… w-well, of course. There's Hannah, Hermione, Pansy, Azalea… they're really good friends. A lot more than it feels like I am to them, really."
Frederick winced a little. "I doubt you're doing as poorly as you think," he chastised her politely. "Now, do you think they're the types to care if someone has a visible disability? I say visible because, if you recall, when you were diagnosed with autism I informed you that it qualifies as a disability, just not one that is generally obvious and easy to distinguish."
Ophelia nodded, remembering the conversation. "Right… no, I don't think they would care at all," she admitted. "They're not the type to be judgmental like that. Blaise… maybe, but he's been getting better."
Frederick nodded again. "Good. So you have friends you trust and know would not judge you if for some reason you became visibly disabled. Now the next question, and pardon if it comes off as a bit crass, but… will it actually change anything?"
"I… what?" Ophelia asked, bewildered.
"Will it actually change anything?" Frederick repeated. "Let's set aside how needing a wheelchair or forearm crutches may change your day to day life in terms of how it looks. Will there actually be more bullying and harassment? Forgive me for my bluntness Ophelia, but you seem to face a lot of discrimination and harsh words as it stands. No doubt your revealed parentage will lead to some using blood slurs against you. You told me about the ostracization you faced before you came out for your fame, and after you came out because of the power you demonstrated at the Second Task. Clearly you aren't going to have an easy time of it. So will it actually be different?"
Ophelia thought about it. She was quiet as she ran through it in her head. What words would be thrown at her? Those she could imagine easily, and the idea of hearing 'cripple' or the like stung. But… not more than 'mudblood', 'tranny', or 'freak'. So…
"No," she admitted softly. "No, I guess it won't. I was worried for nothing."
"Not for nothing," Frederick admonished her, once again gently. "Your emotions are valid, Ophelia, and you were concerned. That's entirely understandable. You'd be hard-pressed to find someone who isn't anxious about having to make use of a mobility aid or other device that causes them to be visibly disabled. A part of it is the societal prejudices we witness - to a degree they're instilled within us. I certainly have my own prejudices I was raised with or picked up from society, and it's my job as a person to see past them. The same goes for you, it just happens that in this case the prejudice is aimed at yourself. That's internalized ableism, in this case - much like the internalized transphobia you battled with and still do to a degree. I'm not saying you'd necessarily feel these things about others, but due to the trauma and personal experiences you suffered, you hold yourself to a higher standard and are more critical of yourself, particularly in regards to things you know others would be unkind to you for. That's something we can work on in future sessions, okay?"
Ophelia nodded, not really trusting herself to speak. Her throat felt a bit tight and her eyes a bit wet.
"Take a deep breath, Ophelia. I know this is a lot to take in," Frederick said gently, setting his notes aside and waiting patiently as she composed herself. Once Ophelia had stabilized, he gave her a kind smile. "Better?"
She gave a shaky smile. "A bit," she replied honestly. "It's… a lot, yeah. But I think you're right, so… it should help. I can… try to do better. It'll take some time."
"And that's okay," Frederick said breezily. "You need to move on your own schedule, not anybody else's. This is your mental health. Maybe in your lessons at school or with Minerva or Mahalu you have homework and deadlines, but here it's based on the pace you're comfortable with and that will get you in a good place sooner," he told her before he began absently tapping his pen against the notepad. "I believe there's one last subject to touch on. Ophelia, how have you been eating?"
Ophelia was taken aback, not having expected that. "Um… alright, I think?" She shrugged a little, "I've got plenty to eat, so…"
Frederick looked at her with that piercing gaze again. "How many meals do you eat a day? And what do you consider a full meal by your standards?" He asked, pressing but not pushing.
Ophelia shifted uncomfortably and looked away before answering. "I eat maybe one full meal a day, otherwise only a snack or two. Sometimes less. A meal's… a bowl of crisps fills me up, or an appetizer," she admitted, shoulders hunching. She knew she'd messed up.
Frederick didn't seem angry, though. Or upset. He never showed either of those emotions. "Considering how often you had food withheld as a punishment, I'm not surprised you developed unhealthy eating habits," he told her gently. "Do you find food unpleasant? Do you try to avoid eating if you can help it?"
Ophelia nodded. "There's a lot of stuff people keep making that I just… I can't eat. Makes me sick," she mumbled. "Baked beans, eggs, mayo, mustard, carrots… I just hate the taste of a lot of stuff. It makes me sick, and I dunno why. But I can't just say I won't eat it. I have to eat what I'm given. So I force it down and just… p-puke it up after," she admitted, her voice quavering. "I feel so awful wasting food like that, I–"
"Pause, Ophelia," Frederick interrupted her, stopping the spiral before she could get going. "It sounds like you have an eating disorder. I've had my suspicions for a while, because from my perspective you're underweight - I spent enough time working in St. Mungo's in the various wards to get fairly good at eyeballing it. Let's go through some other things. Do you experience dizzy spells? Weakness? Poor coordination? Bouts of pain, especially in the stomach or abdomen? Constipation and cramping after you've broken a long fast?" Ophelia nodded yes to all of those questions. "Alright. Some of those may be comorbidities with another disorder or even your autism, but right now I would say it sounds like you have perhaps a variant of anorexia with elements of bulimia. It sounds like you intentionally avoid eating, or perhaps habitually. That's something that needs to be fixed, and I have a few solutions."
"Y-you do?" She asked, a bit surprised. "But… if the problem is me not eating, how do we fix it? There's so much I just… can't, or if I do, then… like I said, I puke it up."
"Then we curate your diet," Frederick replied simply. "This will help your confidence as well. You should be outspoken about things you can't eat. Don't force yourself. If you can't eat something, be honest and try to focus on eating what you can. Seeing as I'm sure you also had issues with eating outside of designated meal times, I want you to stop thinking of there beingdesignated meal times. If you want to share breakfast or dinner with the Abbotts, that's perfectly fine - but you should eat when you're hungry, not when it's expected," he told her, scribbling on a new sheet of paper. "I'll organize instructions for Minerva and Poppy as well. They should be able to see about allowing you to eat outside of the Great Hall with the help of Brownies. Here, just ask for a Brownie to bring you a snack whenever you feel hungry. Please. The better you eat, the more your health will improve. Physical and mental. Having the energy to do what you want and need done - especially magic - is heavily dependent on taking in fuel for said energy. Food."
Ophelia nodded, silent again. She couldn't help thinking this sounded like a good idea, but a hard one. "What am I supposed to do when I'm in a depressive episode? When that happens I… neglect myself," she admitted weakly, feeling sick with herself for being so incapable yet also a bit freed at actually admitting it.
"Then we keep working on it," Frederick replied. "There's a reason we call them disorders and not illnesses. If you have a stomach flu then it will pass. Eating disorders tend to have permanent effects on the body and mind, and even after recovery you may be prone to a relapse in times of emotional distress," he explained, continuing to write more notes. "The point is to find methods of treating the symptoms, preventing relapses, and once you have improved your caloric intake we can even see about an organized and balanced diet. If needed we can supplement in the meantime with vitamins, but the priority for now should be discovering what foods you dislike, tolerate, and like. Eating should be a fun and pleasant experience, as my brother tells me. He's a chef and he adores seeing the smile on someone's face when they like his cooking. It's why he does what he does. There's a vast world to food, and you should have the chance to experience it now that your previous caretakers can't try to poison you against it. Alright?"
Ophelia nodded, a little overwhelmed. "That was… a-a lot today," she muttered, trembling a little.
"It was," Frederick agreed. "And I'm sorry for overwhelming you like that. I suggest taking the rest of your day to rest and relax. Spend time with family if you're up to it, but please focus on resting for the day. You've emotionally drained yourself quite a bit. Needing rest is understandable."
Ophelia grimaced before it turned into more of a weary grin. "Yeah, I guess that's one way to describe this," she muttered, sighing. "I'll do my best. One step at a time."
"That's all I ask," Frederick replied.
~~~~~ Ophelia Meadowes ~~~~~
Hugs from Hannah were always different than anyone else's. Ophelia always felt like she could wind down in her best friend's arms - safe and secure. It had been that way ever since they were firsties and Hannah had pulled Ophelia down from her first panic attack the day after rescuing Hermione from the troll. It was just part of how they worked.
So when Hannah sat next to Ophelia on her bed and wrapped an arm around her, Ophelia's shoulders immediately sagged in relief as she wearily dropped her head on Hannah's shoulder.
"Hey," Hannah said softly.
"Hey," Ophelia replied.
"How did it go?" Hannah asked, earning a weary sigh in response. "I figured as much. Those sessions take a lot out of you."
"And thensome," Ophelia muttered, rubbing under her eyes a bit. "I've got issues to work on."
"Mmm. What's on the agenda?" Hannah asked.
Ophelia sighed, lifting a hand so she could raise a finger with each bit. "A 'Go bag' for emergencies to help my anxiety, see a Healer to find out what's up with my leg so we can treat it without relying on pain relief runes, work on my eating habits to combat my eating disorders, and listen to you more when you tell me nice things about myself," she replied, grinning a bit weakly at the last bit.
"Sound advice. I like your Healer," Hannah said cheekily, grinning while Ophelia rolled her eyes despite being in agreement. "What's a 'Go bag'?"
"That was my response," Ophelia muttered. "It's a bag of essentials. Frederick thinks having it will settle my fight-or-flight response since I can just grab it and go if there is an emergency, but I have to remind myself that the danger would be external, not from inside the house. It's not that I don't trust you all, it's just–"
"I know," Hannah replied softly, gently squeezing Ophelia's shoulder. "Your old place sucked and your relatives messed your head up. It'll take time. That's okay."
"Thanks," Ophelia murmured, not able to say more to express her gratitude as she got a bit emotionally choked up.
"I'd been wondering why you never mentioned the foods you didn't like to Grandma and Grandpa. It was because of them, wasn't it?" Hannah asked, her anger obviously directed elsewhere than Ophelia.
"Yeah," Ophelia admitted. "But… can we talk about something else? I've had enough of the emotional messes today."
"Always," Hannah assured her. "Do you and Daphne have any dates planned for the summer?"
Ophelia shrugged and waggled her hand. "Sort of. I was going to ask Grandfather if I could invite her over at some point. Apparently I have an open invitation to Greengrass Manor," she explained, smiling a bit. "How much do you want to bet she did that just because she wants me to surprise her with a snog?"
Hannah giggled, ruffling Ophelia's hair. "Oh, Scathach - she'd love that. I'm not taking a loser's bet like that. I'm not Blaise," she drawled before tilting her head a bit. "Speaking of Slytherins, have you and Daphne sorted out everything with what happened with Azalea?"
Ophelia sighed and wrinkled her nose. "Sort of? She's agreed to try to do better, and apologized to Azalea, which is good. Azalea's doing better, according to her letter. Her Dad's missing, so I dunno what happened there. She's at Nott Manor all by herself, but I think she's managing," she added, gesturing to the letter she'd opened and read before Frederick arrived.
"That's good," Hannah mused. "She was pretty worried about that, especially when you mentioned seeing her father at the Graveyard."
Ophelia grimaced and nodded. "Yeah, but she's doing okay now, and that's what matters," she muttered, shifting so she could snuggle closer to Hannah. "Anyway, Daph's made it up to Azalea, and Tracey did as well - Hermione saw to that. She still isn't up to being around Blaise, though."
Hannah winced as she pulled a blanket around the two of them, which Ophelia appreciated. "Well, that isn't too shocking. Their breakup was… bad," she replied, wincing as she obviously knew how much worse than 'bad' it was. "Think they'll ever be friends again?"
"Not unless Blaise gets on hands and knees and begs for her forgiveness," Ophelia replied. "And even then I wouldn't blame Azalea one bit if she didn't forgive him. She was traumatized by that night."
Hannah grimaced before it turned into a wry smile. "Oh well, at least it wasn't as bad as when Corner cheated on Parvati. I still remember the absolutely glorious beatdown Lavender gave him," she said, a faraway look in her eyes as though she were reliving the memory.
"Or as bad as your breakup with Ernie," Ophelia added, snickering. "You were such a wreck and he was so sweet about it!"
Hannah huffed, petulantly flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Yes, well, you try being the girl who finds out your boyfriend's gay. I was so upset! I was terrified I'd traumatized him and made him hate me," she groused before her lips twitched into a ghost of a smile and snorted. "It was at least a little funny to see him panicking until I explained why I was so upset. At least we're still friends."
"Every girl needs a gay best friend," Ophelia replied sagely. "I'd ask if I could borrow Ernie, but Ron's started making amends. I'm thinking of giving our friendship another shot. He's been pretty mature the last few months."
Hannah hummed, but her sour expression made it obvious she wasn't exactly convinced. "Right. And has he properly apologized? Have you moved on from all the trauma he left you with?" She asked skeptically.
Ophelia shrugged. "Yes and no. He apologized both in-person and in a letter. The letter seemed pretty genuine, and addressed a lot of the ways he hurt me more directly than the blanket apology he gave in person. As for moving on from the trauma… eventually. I've been working on it with Frederick," she admitted before she drew her legs up and sighed. "It'll take time, but I'd like to make nice."
Hannah squeezed Ophelia's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure it'll be okay. And if not, I'll just hex him. Easy peasy," she said cheerily, causing Ophelia to snort in amusement.
"Alright, sure," Ophelia said before humming as she remembered something. "Frederick says I'm underweight. Could you imagine how everyone would react if I got more curves?" She asked, a crooked grin on her face.
"Oh, gods," Hannah groaned theatrically. "He isn't wrongconsidering how light you are for your size, but your other size certainly makes it hard to tell," she groused, poking Ophelia's chest on the word 'other' and earning an indignant squeak for it.
"Hey!" She objected, crossing her arms defensively in front of herself. "Why must everyone tease me about my boobs?!"
"Because they're big and you're short," Hannah snarked, grinning at Ophelia's scowl. "Don't worry about it. You'll gain the weight you need soon enough. We just have to make sure you eat properly," she said breezily, stretching her legs out and groaning a little. "Ugh, stiff. I've been doing nothing but homework all day. Speaking of food, how about we get a bite?"
Ophelia smirked. "Yeah, okay," she agreed as they both stood, Hannah helping her up.
"And make sure you ask for what you want, alright?" Hannah added with a sharp look. "You need to stop forcing yourself to eat stuff you don't like just because we eat it. Ask the Brownies for something you like. Merlin, make it yourself if you need to. But Frederick's right that we have to work on combating that eating disorder thing."
Ophelia winced but nodded, sighing as she rested her head against Hannah's shoulder when the blonde wrapped an arm around her. "Why does food have to be so hard?" She asked futilely, logically knowing it was because of the Dursleys, even if her habits wanted her to blame herself.
"Because they were horrible people that did horrible things," Hannah replied softly. "It's okay. It'll take time, but you'll do better, okay?"
Ophelia hummed. "Thanks," she murmured. "You're really the greatest best friend I could have ever asked for."
"I know," Hannah replied easily. "And so are you."
Notes:They're sweet together. Best besties. Love Hannah.
Also Frederick rocks and is a king.
Discord: https://discord.gg/w5k4TfFRGG
Next: Mahalu handles more business in the Isles.