Chapter 10: That's What Friends Are ForChapter TextHannah, the probably-gonna-kill-somebody best friend. We stan the queen.
CW: Child Abuse Discussion, Medical Discussion
~~~~~Hannah~~~~~
That's What Friends Are For
~~~~~Hannah~~~~~
December 23rd, 1994
Hannah was a bit surprised to have been asked to stay with Ophie while she spoke to Madam Bones, but was more than happy to oblige. Honestly, she was interested in finding out just how badly she'd want to break the bones of her best friend's relatives. Probably very.
She'd been much more surprised when Ophelia said she just wanted Hannah there, rather than also Daphne and Hermione.
"Ophelia… are you sure?" Hannah asked with a slight frown, "I'm sure they'd be happy to support you."
Ophelia shook her head, her expression determined in a way Hannah hadn't seen since she'd said she was going to battle a Basilisk. "No. I… I appreciate their support - I do, always. But… you're the one I need there for this. Okay?"
Hannah gave her a supportive smile and a side-hug, "Sure. You ready?"
Ophelia took a deep breath. She was still in the hospital garb, her binder still off. Hannah was still wrapping her head around the idea of her best friend not only being a girl, but having been transitioning for years. Not to mention the clear amount of shit she'd been through, the scars being evidence of such.
"Let's do this," Ophelia murmured, and together the duo entered Madam Pomfrey's office, where Madam Bones awaited them.
Madam Bones had the same fiery red hair as her… technically-niece, though Susan was ardently searching for the possibility of a gender-neutral term for their relationship to their Aunt. Otherwise, the adult woman had a rather stern visage, though her expression was quite polite when the two girls entered. She wore some simple robes - nothing too officious or imposing. Hannah mentally thanked Susan, who'd probably advised their Aunt about the delicate nature of the situation.
"Hannah, and… Miss Potter, I presume?" Madam Bones asked kindly.
Hannah nodded, and Ophelia seemed a bit anxious for a moment, but just squeezed Hannah's hand before she nodded as well. Madam Bones gestured for them to sit, and Hannah kept Ophelia's hand in hers as they sat in adjacent seats, knowing her best friend needed the support.
Madam Bones laced her fingers together on the table and seemed to think for a moment before she spoke. "I suppose, Miss Potter, to start… Do you wish me to use your preferred name and identity in my report, or your… I believe Susan called it a 'deadname'?"
Ophelia grimaced momentarily, "My deadname, Madam Bones. I… I'm not ready to come out. Not…" She swallowed and squeezed Hannah's hand, likely for strength. "Not until they can't hurt me anymore," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Hannah returned the squeeze as she felt her heart tighten. She sounded so scared… Hannah resolved to punch these people in their faces the first chance she got.
Madam Bones' expression tightened a tiny bit before she nodded, "I understand. I suppose we should start with… who do you live with? We can start with their names, and perhaps an address?"
Ophelia's grip tightened further, and this time Hannah returned it right away. "You've got this, Ophelia," she murmured, and her friend trembled a tiny bit but gave Hannah an appreciative smile.
"Their names… my-my Uncle, Vernon Dursley… his w-wife, my Aunt… um, Mum's sister. Petunia Dursley. And… and their son, Dudley Dursley," Ophelia managed, her voice shaky and her body trembling. Hannah moved her chair closer and shifted her right arm to be around Ophelia's shoulders and gently took Ophelia's left hand in her own, squeezing it supportively. Ophelia leaned a bit into the embrace before she continued, "N-Num… Number Four, Priv-Privet Drive in Little Whinging, S-S-Surrey." She gave a sob at the end, turning her head into Hannah's shoulder as tears slid down her face.
Hannah wrapped an arm around her friend, feeling as if she'd been struck in the chest. She wasn't sure she could breathe. Ophelia had cried in front of her before… but nothing like this. These tears seemed to be from guilt. It was as if she felt like she was making a mistake… in asking for help. Hannah couldn't understand how things could have been allowed to get this bad. Surely the Muggle teachers or neighbors would have seen something? Said something? Tried anything? But now her closest friend was sobbing just from saying the names and address of her relatives - breaking down from the act of pointing her finger.
Looking back, that had always been a struggle for Ophelia. She didn't point the blame to Ron when she saved Hermione from the Troll, she never went to a teacher about the various hexes, jinxes and bruises she'd gotten from Malfoy over the years, she never said anything when Lockhart waylaid and terrified her talking about 'fame', she always pointed her head down when Snape started one of his tirades (Hannah really needed to break the greasy git's neck), she never once blamed Professor Lupin for not taking his Wolfsbane when it led to the giant scars on her leg, she didn't blame anyone for her being forced into this deathtrap Tournament, she hadn't blamed Ron for how he treated her… not once did she place responsibility on the right shoulders. It was always her own fault in her eyes.
She rubbed Ophelia's back gently, and in her mind she was already burning that address and those names into her mind. If she had faces to go with the names it'd be even better. Regardless, if justice wasn't found, she was locking the Dursleys in their own home, tossing away the key and burning the place down. Ophelia would neverlive with them again. Not if Hannah Constance Abbott had anything to bloody well say about it.
After Ophelia settled, she pulled away with a shaky yet grim determination about her, though she didn't pull out of Hannah's hug or let go of her hand. Not that she had a choice. While Hannah's grip wasn't overly tight, she wasn't letting go of her smaller best friend, either.
Madam Bones, to her credit, did not address Ophelia's outburst. If anything, her expression became ever kinder. "Thank you, Miss Potter. I see your arms are in… quite the condition. If you would consent, I have a series of Diagnostic Charms that can tell me of all the wounds you've suffered over the years. However, if you'd instead prefer to talk about them, I understand."
Ophelia seemed a bit surprised, "I… you can really see back that far?"
Madam Bones nodded, "Spellwork of my own invention, for… a number of reasons. I combined Psychometry - a branch of Arithmancy - with regular Diagnostics. It's not too difficult to create a spell if you've sufficiently mastered Arithmancy. So… your answer?" Her tone was pressing only to the slightest degree.
Ophelia pursed her lips, then looked at Hannah, before she looked at Madam Bones again, "Um… if… can you show Hannah how? So she can… can do it, too? I… I don't think I can-can talk about it… but… only if Hannah's okay with it…?"
Hannah squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, already quelling her desire to break down the door and go Dursley hunting, "If Madam Bones will teach me… yeah. I'll do it." She knew that Ophelia's reasoning was that she wanted Hannah's support, because this was… well, if the marks that looked suspiciously like cigar burns were indeed that… probably going to be awful.
Madam Bones seemed pensive, but nodded slowly. "Miss Abbott? If you could stand, we'll practice the spell on each other, and set the scope for the last three weeks to start. It's easily adjusted, no need to worry…"
~~~~~Hannah~~~~~
"Egritus Histoire - Decem Annos," Madam Bones chanted as she twirled her wand in a circle above Ophelia's head. It was determined she would go first, so she could decide if there was anything Hannah absolutely should not know. Madam Bones said she wasn't sure what to expect, and didn't want Hannah to witness something if she wouldn't be ready for it. Hannah had been a tad miffed, but agreed because she didn't want Ophelia to endure this ordeal any longer than she had to. Besides, her friend was finally asking for something of her own will. She was going to help, damnit.
After the lights vanished, Madam Bones' lips had pressed themselves impossibly thin. There were several long moments of silence as tears slid down her face, and eventually she held her head high - though it was obviously forced. "Hannah… I think there's nothing there that… that you should truly be shielded from. Or, at least, that I don't believe you're… mature enough for."
Hannah nodded grimly at Madam Bones' words, and gave Ophelia a semi-confident smile as she drew her wand. Ophelia managed a weak smile of her own, her legs pulled onto the chair and her arms wrapped around them tightly. Hannah still wondered at why the first eight cm or so of her wrists mostly just had scratch scars… though she had a feeling she was about to find out.
She twirled her wand in the circle, "Egritus Histoire - Decem Annos." The lights glowed around Ophelia… and Hannah stumbled.
The information that entered her head was heartbreaking.
There were exactly four scars she had already known the origins of. Her forehead's lichtenberg marks (though they didn't show up on the scan), the three lines going down her right thigh and just past the knee, and the matching giant puncture-like scars on her left arm and leg. The ones she'd expected. Then there were the excruciating amount of others.
External and internal. Ophelia's body was littered with scar tissue. The round marks were cigar burns, just as expected. There were scars on her body from being struck by wooden spoons and belts, from burning metal, from fists and feet. Not to mention the amount of broken bones that had to re-heal on their own - though if the readings were right, Ophelia's magic had supplicated that. But still. It was… heartbreaking.
She couldn't imagine what had caused so many of these scars. Or why they had been given. Who in the world could be so cruel as to do this to Ophelia? She had to have been barely four when this started! When Hannah was four, her family was tickling and teasing her, playing together and teaching her about magical toys and games! Not beating her and bruising her! Not breaking her arms and striking her!
Tears slid down her face as she sobbed and hugged Ophelia. She couldn't help it. She couldn't get the image of little Ophelia out of her head, not even knowing she was a girl yet, and in a house with people who must have hated her. She probably hadn't known love until she befriended Ron and Hermione. Hadn't been hugged until she and Hermione had done so in first year when she broke down for the first time in front of them.
Hannah hiccuped and sobbed again, holding Ophelia tighter. She heard her best friend sniffle and sob as well, and felt her heart sink. How many tears had she cried and probably been punished for? How many times had she let out a sob when those bastards hurt her?
Worse… How often had she gone hungry? The spell told her Ophelia had been heavily malnourished, and was suffering side effects. Hannah couldn't remember a time she'd ever gone hungry - food was never withheld, not even as a punishment. Her family never once laid a hand on her, and if she struggled to eat something due to the taste or texture, her grandparents were understanding, appreciated that she'd tried, and got her something she liked. But Ophelia had been starved. A lot. To the point the spell said there'd likely be permanent side effects.
She wanted to hug and hold Ophelia and never let her go. Protect her from the evil, rotten people who would dare hurt her best friend like this. But also… a part of her was angry. Not at Ophelia, of course. Never at Ophelia.
She wanted the Dursleys to pay for what they did. She wanted Ron to pay for how utterly, ridiculously stupid he'd been. She wanted the Professors to pay for never doing anything. She wanted someone to take some fucking responsibility. Ophelia deserved justice. She deserved to be truly, completely free from the sick, rotten bastards who did this to her. She resolved herself to be sending several letters that night, and to talk to a lot of people about this.
This wasn't right. What happened to Ophelia wasn't right. Hannah knew that deep in her bones. Her own childhood had been wonderful - in her eyes, it was exactly what Ophelia should have had.
She was going to make damned sure that Ophelia never had to see the Dursleys ever again. No matter what it took.
~~~~~Hannah~~~~~
The rest of the interview, after Hannah and Amelia had recovered, had been fairly basic from Hannah's perspective. Going over Ophelia's options, and what Amelia was planning to do. She was going to open an investigation, and Ophelia brought up Healers Grapelock and Insom. Hannah tried not to be too incensed at how the Dursleys had beat her friend so badly she'd needed Healers at one point. They didn't discuss the wounds, because they knew trying was going to just upset all three of them. So they kept the discussion… as light as it could be.
"Hannah," Madam Bones said softly after they'd finished, "Could you stay back, please? I wanted to ask you something." She gave Ophelia a small smile, "Don't worry, Miss Potter - it's nothing you've done wrong. Just a personal matter."
Ophelia seemed a bit hesitant, but Hannah gave her a forced smile of confidence. Ophelia managed a weak, teary one of her own and after another brief hug she went back out into the Hospital Wing. Hannah knew she'd be returning to her bed - Madam Pomfrey had changed the length of her stay to be around a week, pending evaluations.
Hannah sighed softly, not turning back to face Madam Bones just yet. "I'm going to tell Grandfather to file to adopt her," she said, voice barely above a whisper. She didn't want Madam Bones to dissuade her or advise against it. She wouldn't hear of it.
"That's funny," Madam Bones said softly, in a tone more like how she sounded when she spoke as 'Miss Amelia'. "I was just about to ask you to send Lord Abbott a letter."
Hannah whirled to look at her with wide eyes. "You… you want me to message Grandfather?"
Miss Amelia nodded, having taken off her monocle and seeming as if she'd aged a decade. "You know what I know… you shouldn't have had to, but you did. I'd decided to have you contact your Grandfather the moment I saw Ophelia's arms. Those Dursleys…" Miss Amelia gripped her wand so tightly her knuckles went white, "They knew exactly what they were doing. Her face, backs of her hands, a few inches above the wrists and ankles, her neck and upper shoulder area… all scar-free. Can you tell me why?"
Hannah thought about it. What was special about those parts of the body… after a few moments, it clicked. "If her clothes ride up or shift around, they'll be what's visible. Her face and the backs of her hands are obvious… they…" She felt her stomach twist and she had to fight not to retch, "... I'll kill them."
Miss Amelia's face shifted into 'Madam Bones' again, "You'll do no such thing, Hannah. Believe me, I know where you are coming from. However I also know you very well. I remember that time you broke Zacharias Smith's arm for making fun of Susan for cutting their hair short. I remember how you have a tendency to get physical - or, lately, magical - when someone hurts the people you care about. It's why I was so hesitant to let you cast that spell. Merlin, if I'd seen my worst fears, I wouldn't have let you cast it because I would've been too busy beating you to the punch."
Madam Bones took a deep breath and very, very slowly exhaled before she got up and strode over to give Hannah a hug. "Hannah, you are the most powerful young lady I know - in so many ways. I've never met anyone who protects my niece as fervently as you do, or who would be so willing to support their friends as ardently as you do. But please… leave this to the adults."
Hannah hesitated, but slowly returned the hug that came from the woman who'd raised her cousin. "... Okay. But if anyone hurts her again… I'm not letting them get away with it. Not the Dursleys, not Ron Weasley, not Malfoy… nobody. She's… She's had enough, Auntie." Her voice became very, very soft. She'd never had the strength to call Amelia her Aunt before, even though she'd always had the right to. But saying it reminded her of her Mum - the Mum she'd never gotten to know because she died battling the Lestranges.
Amelia tightened her hug, but it didn't feel painful - just more secure. Hannah guessed that what they'd learned about Ophelia had left Amelia thinking about if it had been Hannah or Susan treated like that. In that house. She'd had similar thoughts, herself. She tightened her grasp as well, and the two just stood there for a few moments in silence.
When they eventually separated, Hannah took a shaky breath, "I'm going to have Grandfather adopt her. Or at least… offer at the Wizengamot meeting next week. Just… please. Please make the investigation quick."
Amelia squeezed her shoulder gently, "I'll do my best, Hannah. But I promise you one thing." She looked down at Hannah, who met her eyes. "Ophelia is never going back to that house. Never."
Hannah smiled weakly and rested her head in relief against her aunt, "Thank you…"
~~~~~Hannah~~~~~
September 28th, 1991
"Hello. Are… are you alright?" Hannah asked uncertainly. Susan was off studying with that Gryffindor girl - Hermione Granger - so Hannah had decided to wander the Halls alone. Though, the last thing she'd expected to find was Harry Potter sitting alone underneath a staircase. That took the cake for odd occurrences.
Harry flinched at her voice, but it didn't seem to be from disgust like Malfoy when she'd accidentally snuck up on him a week earlier. He seemed… afraid. Scared. Oddly, she noticed he was very, very small. She'd noticed it before in class, but he looked like he should be eight or maybe nine - not eleven and some change.
He looked at her warily before he slowly replied, "Just… not having a good day."
Hannah nodded, "Well… Can I sit with you? I've not got much else to do." She shrugged to show that she didn't mind, though she was definitely going to cast a Mundaris on the floor. It looked filthy.
Harry blinked owlishly, "I… um… sure," he mumbled, gently sliding over so they'd both have room to sit under the staircase. Hannah drew her wand and cast the cleaning spell, leaving the area looking… not perfect, but nice enough. She carefully adjusted her skirt and sat on her bum, crossing her legs and folding them in front of her to stay ladylike.
"Do you want to talk about your day?" She asked gently. "You don't have to if you don't want."
Harry seemed surprised again, as if he didn't expect someone to care so genuinely. Hannah supposed she couldn't fault him for that - for some reason, people tended to treat him as if he was 'other'. Different from them. The exceptions were Ron Weasley - who seemed a bit controlling - and Draco Malfoy's crew - who were just bullies.
"Um… Well… I-I think I had a fight with… with Hermione," he admitted slowly, his voice soft. He sounded a bit like Susan. "We… Well, after Malfoy called us to a duel at midnight… we got detention when Filch found us… Hermione tried to stop us, then came with… she's mad… but I… I didn't even know what was happening…"
Hannah recalled how Malfoy had challenged him to a duel, and then Ron accepted on Harry's behalf, declaring himself Harry's second. She frowned. If Harry knew about duels, why would he accept one at midnight? At least, not without clearing it first… unless…
"Were you not raised by wixen?" Hannah asked curiously.
Harry shook his head, though a tiny grimace was on his face, "No. My aunt and uncle - they're Muggles. First I knew magic existed was when I turned 11."
Hannah blinked as she registered that. Harry Potter… didn't know magic existed… until barely two months ago. But that idiot Weasley accepted a duel on his behalf?
Hannah frowned, "Well… I can talk to Hermione for you. I imagine she might not know that. She's fairly reasonable, she just has a tendency to assume everyone is as smart and rational as she is - unfortunately, most aren't." She grinned, and Harry gave a bit of a rueful smile in return.
"She's nice, usually… dead smart. I try to study as well as she does. She's a hard worker - I'd like to be as good as she is. Ron… he…" Harry hesitated, and Hannah wondered if he just didn't want to be blunt about his slacker of a self-proclaimed best friend.
Hannah shrugged, "Not into studying much?"
Harry's expression became relieved at the out she gave him, and he shook his head. The tiny smile was back. "No, not much. Plays a lot of magic chess. I'm trying to learn, but he likes playing more than teaching…"
Hannah had a feeling Ron liked winning specifically, but decided not to remark that. "I could teach you how to play?" She offered kindly, "My grandfather taught me all I know. I'm not championship level, but I'm good."
Harry looked at her excitedly, "You'd do that?"
Hannah nodded, "'Course. Though, I'll want you to pay me back. You've got great scores in classes, and I'm helpless at studying. We can teach each other!"
Harry seemed a bit surprised at that, "I do? Er– alright, sure!"
Hannah figured that he assumed being ranked fifth wasn't good enough, maybe. Still, the only ones above him were Hermione, the Patil sisters and Anthony. Not exactly a bunch of slackers, as much as Parvati was a gossip.
Hannah hummed thoughtfully, "Though, if we're to be friends, we'll need to do more than that. Just teaching each other isn't much."
Harry seemed stunned again as he jumped a bit at her words, "I– friends?"
Hannah snorted softly, "Of course, silly. You should have as many friends as you can. I, for one, have made six so far - I'd like it if you're the seventh."
Harry blinked in surprise before a nervous smile crossed his face, "Um… o-okay! What should we do then? I… I only really talk about Quidditch with Ron, though it's… not that interesting…"
Hannah furrowed her brow a bit. Hadn't Harry been named Seeker for Gryffindor? Did… hmm. Maybe he didn't like it? She pushed the thought aside, as clearly she had much to teach Harry about being friends. Ronald clearly wasn't pulling his weight.
"Well, we talk about stuff we like. Or random things. We help each other with school, and if we're having a hard day we help each other out. We apologize if we do something wrong, and try to talk it out to make things better. It isn't easy, but it's very nice and really rewarding," she replied, drawing on the words Grandfather used when she first struggled to understand the importance of friendship.
Harry frowned, "That… I've never done a lot of that before… I've helped Ron before, but… I apologize if we argue, but I guess he's always right. He never apologizes."
Hannah sincerely doubted that was true, but decided not to remark on it. "Well, I'm happy to show you how. After all, you can't make more friends if you don't learn the basics. Besides, it might help you understand Ron and Hermione better!" She figured appealing to the friendships he had would help if she wanted to forge a new one with him.
Harry smiled again at that. His smiles were a bit rare, she felt, but very sweet and rewarding. "Thank you, I… I'd appreciate that…" He flushed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Um… I'm sorry, um… I don't remember your name."
Hannah had a feeling that was once again Weasley's influence. She'd heard his prejudice before. 'Slytherins are evil' even though Tracey Davis was the sweetest girl Hannah had met. 'Ravenclaws are nerds' even though Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein wrestled, argued and debated over Quidditch at least twice a week. 'Hufflepuffs are boring' even though Susan was easily the most interesting person Hannah knew, though she had to admit Harry was quite interesting himself. She could see a very strong friendship in their future as long as she kept in mind that he was different than she'd expected. Or perhaps threw away the expectations altogether.
She had a feeling that expecting something out of a potential friend might be rude. She wasn't certain, but it felt like something Grandfather would say. Besides, why should she place expectations on someone she'd not yet gotten to know? There were rumors about Harry, but all she'd seen so far was a small, reclusive kid who seemed lost at every turn and was presently sitting underneath a staircase looking like a nervous, anxious wreck.
She stuck out a hand, "Hannah Abbott. Technically, I'm called 'Heiress Hannah Constance Abbott' in fancy circles, but since we're about to be friends, why bother with the fanciness?"
Harry blinked in surprise, but tentatively shook her hand, "Um… well, Harry Potter. I don't think I have any fancy titles like yours - wouldn't want them, anyways. It sounds… intimidating."
Hannah giggled as they released hands, "It can be. But now that we're friends, we don't have to worry about it. Maybe we can work together in Herbology? Susan and Hermione are friends, so they can work together. We can do the same in Transfiguration and History sometimes, too."
Harry seemed to light up, before he became a bit pensive. "Um… but what about Ron?"
Hannah thought about it. She didn't want to tell Harry who to be friends with or isolate him - as bad an influence as Weasley seemed to be, the idea of controlling her new friend left a sick taste in her mouth. But she also wanted him to… well, not be tempted to slack off like Weasley did.
"Well, we don't have to do it every class. Besides, surely Ron has other friends, too? What about Neville in Herbology, or Dean in History? They're both good at those subjects. If Ron's worried about his grades, he can team with them." She offered, thinking it was a good idea for an olive branch.
Harry seemed satisfied and nodded in agreement, "Thank you. I didn't want to leave him alone…"
'Like he's left you?' She wanted to say. Friends didn't let friends sit alone under staircases, upset and confused, not sure what to do when they're having a problem.
Instead, she decided to try and talk about something happier. "So what do you like most about the magical world so far? If you're all new to this, you've got a real fresh perspective." She wrinkled her nose for her next words, "Hermione's all about the books." She giggled a bit to show that she didn't mind Hermione's bookishness. Honestly, it had helped renew Hannah's appreciation for the Abbott and Bones libraries she had access to. She'd planned to invite Hermione over someday - maybe Harry, too. It'd be nice to have new friends over.
Harry looked thoughtful, then a bashful expression crossed his face, "Well… Hermione's birthday was nice. I was glad I looked at the birthday chart on the bulletin board in my first week. I ordered her a Fairy Tale book that Percy recommended since I wanted to do something nice, because she's been nice to me so far. I was glad it came in time for her, and she looked really happy. All the magic candies and everything… It was fun."
Hannah beamed, "Susan went, too! I couldn't go because I had the flu, but I sent Hermione some sweets. Not much, since her parents are dentists. Something more tart - I figured she'd appreciate less sugar."
Harry smiled again, "She did. She raved about them for a little while, until she saw all the books. I think she'd never had many friends at a party before…" He frowned and shrugged, "I guess I haven't had the same."
Hannah's brow furrowed. He hadn't had many friends? That was… sad. And odd. But maybe it was just because the Muggles were like Ron and didn't really understand how to be friends with someone as kind and soft-spoken as Harry. "Well… maybe we can fix that next year. If you don't have plans, maybe we can make some!"
Harry seemed surprised again. He did that a lot when someone suggested something normal, she realized. It was a little disconcerting. "You'd… you'd help with that?" He asked tentatively, clear hope in his features.
Hannah nodded and made sure she grinned as wide as she could, "Sure! Parties are loads of fun!"
Harry's odd behaviors aside, she enjoyed the couple hours that followed. Chatting together about simple things - Harry told her about Muggle things, Hannah told him about Magical things. It was the first memory she made with the boy-who-was-actually-a-girl, and the first memory she made with the person who would soon become her bestest friend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your Kudos tell Hannah she's an awesome gal, and your Comments cheer for Ophelia having such a cool best friend.
Next Chapter: Christmas, and Ron
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Chapter 11: Best FriendChapter TextThe matter of Ophelia Potter's true best friend.
~~~~~Hannah~~~~~
Best Friend
~~~~~Hannah~~~~~
December 25th, 1994
"Do you want to open it, Ophelia?" Daphne asked softly from her seat.
The group had decided to spend their Christmas morning in the Hospital Wing with Ophelia - not that it had been a difficult decision to make. Hannah, Hermione, Phoebe, Susan and Ophelia's four Slytherin friends all sat in a sort of circle. Ophelia's bed had been temporarily transfigured into the large mattress upon which they sat.
Hannah had to admit, Ophelia had a knack for making the most attractive students in their year her friends. Hannah herself, of course, but also Hermione, Tracey, Phoebe and the boys, who were all quite good-looking. Then there was Susan, who - much to their and Hannah's general disgust - got a lot of attention due to their curves. Not to mention Daphne Greengrass. Easily the hottest girl in their year - with a nickname to boot. 'Ice Queen'. How was any girl supposed to compete with that? Hannah was just thanking her lucky stars Daphne was clearly into Ophelia. If that went well in the future, Hannah wouldn't have to worry about any boy or girl she decided to date.
The gift Daphne was asking about was the last one Ophelia had left. She'd opened those of everyone present - Hannah had been especially pleased to receive a tight hug from her best friend as thanks for the Premium Rune Etching Kit she'd gifted. Top of the line stuff, and she'd known Ophelia would love it. After small gifts from Amelia Bones, Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor Chasers and a handful of token gifts from Astoria Greengrass, Luna Lovegood, the Weasley Twins, Ginny Weasley and some others… The last remaining gift was from Ronald Weasley.
Hannah didn't know what it was, and found she genuinely couldn't care less. It was of course Ophelia's decision what to do with it, but she'd been looking at it with a great deal of anxiety and apprehension. Last Hannah knew, Ron was avoiding Ophelia like the plague - he hadn't even seemed perturbed by her absence at the Ball. Hannah herself had abandoned the Ball midway through the first dance and gone hunting through the entire school. She still wanted to kick herself for not trying the Hospital Wing first - it was the most obvious answer for her incredibly danger-prone best friend.
Ophelia looked at the gift, and Hannah could practically see the lump in her best friend's throat. She was minutely surprised when Ophelia looked up and met her teal eyes with those ever-familiar spring-greens. She knew exactly what Ophelia was asking her for without even needing to be told.
She took the gift out of Ophelia's unresisting hands, tossed it on the floor, and pointed her wand. "Estros," she whispered, and the gift vanished into nothingness. It was no more.
Some of the others seemed surprised, but Ophelia just stood up and Hannah immediately drew her into a hug. The smaller girl didn't sob, but the tightness of the hug and the slight wetness on her shoulder told Hannah all she needed to know. "I know, Ophelia… it's okay. You didn't owe him anything. You're fine. The gift didn't matter, I promise," she murmured, gently rubbing Ophelia's back.
Ophelia had finally been allowed to wear her regular clothes starting yesterday, and she'd immediately started wearing her jumpers and jeans. Though she didn't wear the binders, since she was still technically under quarantine. It gave her some freedom, and Hannah was glad that Ophelia had it. If she'd had it her way, she'd have dragged Ophelia to Abbott Manor for Christmas. As it was, based on Grandfather's reply late last night, they'd have to settle for Summer. He fully intended to propose that their family adopt Ophelia - and from what Daphne, Theo, Blaise and Susan said, their families would support it. They'd all sent letters to their parents to support Lord Abbott's claim - failing that, prioritize the Bones, Greengrass, Zabini and lastly Nott Families as backups.
She continued to gently rub Ophelia's back, and several moments passed until she pulled away. Hannah drew her wand and swiftly cleared Ophelia's face of tears with a spell. Ophelia shot her a tiny smile before she went to sit back down, only a little shaky. Hannah dried her shoulder as well and sat back down next to Ophelia.
"So! What should we do?" Hannah asked, keeping her tone light and upbeat even as Ophelia leaned against Hermione - who was on her other side - ever so slightly. Hermione gently wrapped an arm around her basically-sister, and she traded a look with Hannah as they both came to the understanding that Ronald needed to be dealt with. As effective as the Slytherins had been, it clearly wasn't enough.
Theo pulled put a deck of cards from who-knew-where, "Poker?"
Phoebe deadpanned at him, "And you know how to play a muggle gambling game… because?"
Blaise guiltily raised his hand, "I… may have a habit. Or… five…"
Tracey snorted at that as she punched his shoulder before going back to one of the books Hermione bought her, "Yeah, sure. You also totally don't happen to be the ringmaster of the next-date betting pool."
Hannah groaned, "Gods, am I still top-dollar for Ophie?"
Blaise snorted, "Yeah. If it happened, it'd be barely more than a few Sickles in profit for the winners."
Ophelia made a slight choking sound, "Wh-what?"
Blaise blinked in surprise before the guilty expression returned, "Ah– well, there's this… betting pool. People bet on couples - the likeliest pairings. Sometimes they bet on specific date ranges for the pairings to make it 'official' to boost their potential profits. You're… uh, bet on. A lot."
Ophelia let out a small groan, "And everyone thinks I'd be paired with Hannah? She's my best friend! That'd be gross!"
Hannah nodded in vehement agreement. "Exactly! It'd be like… like… like someone betting on me and Susan!"
Theo snorted, "Five Galleon profit on that pairing." Susan and Hannah both gaped at him. "What? You do realize that the biggest Pureblood tradition is incest, right? You're first cousins, so it's iffy - but since you can't have heirs… not as iffy…"
Hannah and Susan traded a look before they both shuddered in disgust and tried not to vomit. That was a horrifying idea. She saw Hermione and Ophelia trade similar grossed out looks - no surprise there. Even without the biological relationship, they were as good as sisters. Hermione told Hannah as much back in second-year when she thought she'd needed to convince Hannah that Ophelia wasn't the Heir. Hannah had been pretty miffed at the implication she would think poorly of Ophelia.
"Harry…?" A somewhat familiar voice called out from somewhere around the entrance of the Hospital Wing. It sounded tentative and hopeful, perhaps a bit repentant.
Not nearly enough, in Hannah's opinion.
Ophelia had started to shake. Hannah placed a hand on her back and gave her a light nod. She stood up and held her hands out to stop the others. "I've got this, alright?"
She pocketed her wand to prove she wasn't going to go in spells-blazing, though she knew Susan fully expected her to opt for a right hook. She was probably right depending on how much the ginger prick pissed her off.
She adjusted her cardigan and stepped out from behind the privacy curtain, immediately making a mental note to - much as she loathed the concept - deadname and misgender Ophelia. Deciding they didn't need to hear this, just before she exited, she caught Daphne's eye. Daphne nodded and drew her wand, and Hannah knew she'd understood the message to set up Privacy Wards.
She exited and looked at Ron. He really wasn't all that impressive. Taller than she was - then again, she barely had 4cm on Ophelia, who was just 150cm herself. But Ron was, admittedly, tall - probably 180cm? Maybe almost 185? But he was gangly and lean, unlike the more fit figures that Theo and Blaise cut. Then again, those boys spent some time roughhousing, duelling and the like. From what Hannah knew, Ron was a slacker - not the worst of them, at least. It was hard to beat Crabbe, Goyle and Seamus on those fronts. But he passed his classes only just - even then, usually with help.
Yet he called himself Ophelia's best friend for… nigh on three years until two months ago on Samhain. If it had been their first ever four weeks at Hogwarts, he would have been right - if only due to the fact that at the time Ophelia's only other friends were Neville and Hermione. The former of which was more of an acquaintance at the time and the latter of which she was having a row with. Not exactly a challenging competition for 'best friend', though Ron had obviously only put in token effort at best. Hannah was reminded of a phrase Phoebe used regarding Mandy Brocklehurst - 'fair-weather friend'. Her description had fit Ron Weasley to the letter when it came to Ophelia.
Hannah, for her part, had realized quickly that being Ophelia's friend was not easy. Nevermind Ophelia's own obvious mental hang-ups, there was the sheer amount of plotting, scheming and pure chaos that swirled around her. Yet… she was sweet. Kind, brilliant, and determined. She worked hard and was impossibly loyal - honest to a fault, too, unless there were extenuating circumstances. Even then, Hannah had a feeling Ophelia had purposefully let her guard down once or twice. Commenting nicely about her outfit in a way only a girl would. Constantly noticing tiny changes to her hairstyles that even Susan sometimes missed. Gushing over the ways she did her makeup and nails.
In return, Hannah had gone full-force into being Ophelia's best friend. The good, the bad and the hideously ugly. She'd trusted Ophelia implicitly - and not once had she been steered wrong. At worst, they'd put in a genuine effort and learned from their mistakes. She'd rubbed Ophelia's back when she vomited from - as Hannah now realized - cycle-induced nausea. Ophelia had embarrassingly done the same for her - as well as hold her hair back - when she'd made the mistake of trying firewhiskey. Not a pleasant experience, that. They'd chatted about anything, everything and nothing at all. Ophelia was allowed to keep every Snitch she caught - which had totaled at 8. Five of them had gone to Hannah, though she knew Ron, Hermione and Ophelia herself each had one as well. She knew the next ones would have gone to the Slytherin Crew - if Ophelia hadn't had the intention of dropping Quidditch. It made sense - neither girl liked the sport that much anyway - but it made Hannah consider whether she should share her Snitches. Maybe… though it would be a difficult parting.
She'd only realized it in First Year when Ophelia showed her that Cloak and blasted Mirror that they'd become so close. Ron had been, too…
But he was also bullheaded. He pushed and pulled Ophelia when she needed to be guided and supported. Hannah had spent a great deal of time comforting Ophelia during her more emotional moments when Ron acted like an utter git - which was far more often than he had any right to be.
She mentally shook herself out of her thoughts. It was no time to ruminate and criticize.
"Uh, Hannah?" Ron asked with confusion coloring his tone. "Harry's here, isn't he? I heard Hermione telling Angelina and them the other night." Hannah made a mental note to have Hermione remember to double-check for eavesdroppers in the future. If she'd been alone with Alicia and used Ophelia's real name and pronouns, it could cause some issues.
"He is," Hannah replied coolly, suppressing the urge to vomit at misgendering Ophelia. "He wasn't feeling well before the Ball - Madam Pomfrey's got him in quarantine for the time being. I've been the only one allowed to see him - best friends, and all that." The lie came easily, and she thanked her steady friendship with Lavender, Megan and Parvati for that. Those girls might have been gossip queens, but they knew how to lie - more importantly, how to teach someone to lie.
Ron rolled his eyes, "Come off it. I'm his best mate, not you. We're just having a row. I just want to check on him, make sure he's alright."
Hannah took a slow breath to calm herself and inwardly thanked Daphne for catching her silent message. If it weren't for those Privacy Wards, she wouldn't be the only wix confronting Ron Weasley. As it was, she couldn't believe how thick he was if he actually still thought that - and hadn't noticed at least Hermione's consistent absence from Gryffindor Tower.
"You 'have a row' with Harry nearly every week," Hannah commented drily, arching an eyebrow to challenge him to dispute it. He seemed a bit taken aback so she kept it up, "If you actually noticed at a realistic time for a so-called 'best mate', you'd have realized Harry was missing at the bloody Ball. I certainly did. So did Hermione, Phoebe, andall of his Slytherin friends. You know, the people who've supported him while you're stuck being a right git?"
Ron bristled at that, and Hannah wondered if he'd have the gall to stand up to the Slytherins like this. From what she knew, he'd been behaving himself around Ophelia and the Slytherins… but he was still grousing in private. "Those dirty snakes are just tricking him! They're poisoning him against us. It isn't right! If you're Harry's friend, then it should be plain as day he's been acting different! All… all nerdy and scared!"
It didn't escape Hannah's attention that he'd deflected rather than own up to not noticing Ophelia's absence at the Ball. Something to file away for later. "From my perspective, he's the same - happier, actually," Hannah shot back coldly. "Every time I've been with Harry, he's soft-spoken, polite, bookish and shy. The sweetest person in the world. All the Slytherins have been doing is recognizing that, befriending him and giving him some confidence. You know - that thing of his you keep tearing down because you're jealous."
"Am not!" Ron shot back hotly, his face turning red. "He's confident! Plenty! He went after Quirrell and Lockhart, didn't he? The Basilisk? Sirius Black? He's in the bloody Tournament!"
Hannah had to work to hide her disgust, though she was rapidly losing patience. "That's not confidence, Ronald. It's bravery. Bravery despite being utterly terrified. You got yourself knocked out by a bloody Chessboard, so you wouldn't have seen it, but I saw the fear on his face when he wrestled Quirrell. I saw how terrified he was when he came for McGonagall to get the Basilisk - and I saw how he shook and trembled like a bloody leaf after the Chamber. I was there when he scared off Sirius Black. I was there when he was dragged into the Hospital Wing, covered in blood because he was mauled by that werewolf. And you know what? I've been by his side all year helping him deal with this death trap of a Tournament! I actually trust him and believe him when he says he didn't put his name in that stupid Goblet! What about you, Ronald? What about you?"
Ron seemed scared and as if he didn't know what to say. After a couple moments when he seemed to marshal up some semblance of confidence, she steamrolled over him. It was time to address his bullshit about being Ophelia's best friend. She wanted him to stop bothering her? In that case, Hannah would happily make sure he wouldn't dare.
"Do you even know anything about Harry?" She challenged, her hands balling into fists. "He's top of our class, his favorite color is wisteria, his favorite flower is the lotus, his favorite food is a dutch treat called oliebollen, he can't stomach the taste of pumpkin juice, he loves to read romance novels, he's really good at chess, his favorite class is Arithmancy, he took that and Runes because he wanted to enjoy the subjects he took - not just be with the people he knew. I've known him since the end of September of our first year. I've put in the effort to be his friend - and he put in the effort to be mine. We talk - a lot. We spend time together. We trusteach other. We don't say rude things to each other. We help each other be better, smarter, happier and stronger. He's the reason I'm doing so well in my classes - and I'm the reason he's doing so well socially. I've never had a friend as amazing, kind, and brilliant as Harry. I don't brag about being his friend because it's more worth my time to just be his friend." She took another deep breath to try and cool down her tirade. She didn't want to haul off and hit him. As lucky as he would be since they were already in the Hospital Wing, she didn't fancy him being around Ophelia any more than absolutely necessary.
Ron looked highly uncomfortable, but seemed to have enough strength to reply. Git. "Well… I've taught him wixen chess! And-and about Quidditch - he loves Quidditch! I taught him how to relax and not be such a know-it-all like Hermione!"
Hannah forced herself to take two deep breaths. If she didn't, she was going to scream. Or break his nose. Or both, and hex him blind for good measure. All the same, when she opened her eyes back up, she still felt like she was seeing red. And it wasn't Ron's hair or clothes. "You didn't teach him anything. You bullied him in Wixen Chess to feel better about yourself. He told me how the one time he beat you, that you demanded a rematch until you'd beaten him three more times. He's intentionally lost to you ever since, to protect your stupid, fragile ego." She gripped her biceps to stop herself from grabbing her wand. She was itching to fire a spell at the skinny bastard. "He does not like Quidditch - you just assumed he would because you do and his Dad played, didn't you? Or maybe you can't get it through your thick skull that not everyone likes a sport that can get people killed? And what you do isn't 'relaxing'," she said in a harsh tone as she made air quotes with her fingers. "It's slacking. When people relax, it's because they've put in a lot of honest effort and hard work - which Harry does. He's brilliant, and very, very smart. So is Hermione. That doesn't make them 'know-it-all's, it makes them talented and hard-working. Something you know, and keep yelling at them and berating them for all because you can't stop being insecure about the fact that you never do anything with yourself!"
She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, letting her shoulders sag. That had taken a lot out of her, and from the look on Ron's face, she'd finally gotten through to him. She just met his gaze for several moments.
… he could have been a good friend to Ophelia, in another life. If he paid any attention and respected her. If he put in more effort, he could indeed have been Ophelia's best friend. But he hadn't. Hannah had picked up the pieces time and time again whenever Ophelia broke down because of Ron's treatment. She'd held Ophelia in her arms for what must have been several hours at more than one point the summer before last. Comforting her closest friend as she sobbed about how Ron had berated her for 'taking too long' and not just forging ahead into the Chamber.
Hannah held absolutely no love nor mercy for Ronald Weasley. Ever since she'd seen that girl sitting alone and forlorn under the staircase, she had not cared one whit about the redheaded boy who claimed to be her best friend. While Hannah herself hadn't noticed the signs that her best friend was indeed a girl, she also had been cautious to never make Ophelia uncomfortable. And Ophelia did the same for her.
Where Ophelia gave and gave and gave, Ron took and took and took. But Hannah had put in every effort to give as much back. She didn't care that Ophelia had to support her differently - she understood it, and accepted it. She knew Ophelia cared about her, and nothing could change how much she cared in turn. Her being a girl had only made Hannah make a silly comment and give her unwavering support. Her history with her relatives only made Hannah want to burn that building to the ground with the scum inside.
… but somehow, a part of her knew Ron would never apologize. Not truly - not without a lot of growing up. When Hermione said the words 'bars on the windows', Hannah had assumed it was metaphorical. That Ron was misreading some Muggle architectural practice. She didn't ask Ophelia. She should have, and if she had… and had gotten a straight answer… she could have done more. Sooner, too.
But Ron did know. Yet he didn't do or say anything that led to Ophelia being permanently removed from that home like he should have. He told Hermione, and that was it. To this day, that tidbit was something only Ron, his older twin brothers, Hermione, Ophelia and Hannah herself knew. The Twins she had already confronted the day before, and they had the decency to offer their apologies and swear to take action if they ever saw anything like that again. They repented.
Ron had not.
"Just… just leave, Ronald. Leave and just… don't come back," Hannah said tiredly, shaking her head. She couldn't be angry at him. Not anymore. He wasn't worth her time. Ophelia needed her.
Ron seemed a bit hesitant, and only said a few words in response. "Just… tell him I said Happy Christmas… I hope he likes the present I got him…" He left, then. Slow and defeated.
Hannah didn't bother telling him that his gift would never be opened.
~~~~~Hannah~~~~~
She sank into her seat next to Ophelia, and this time the smaller girl supported her. She shot Ophelia a grateful smile and wrapped an arm around her, half to get support and half to give it. Ophelia didn't object and made it a bit easier for Hannah to rest her head on her shoulder.
"... Thank you for standing up for me," Ophelia murmured softly.
Hannah gave a small giggle, "It's what I do. You've done the same for me. Don't think I didn't notice you lied to Ernie during Potions last year. Pretty sure he never got over that explosion."
Daphne gave Hannah a slightly guilty look, "Hannah, well… We heard what you said. All I put up was some wards to prevent you from hearing us. So…"
Hannah stiffened, and immediately sat up to turn to Ophelia, "I'm so sorry you had to hear me deadname and misgender you." She immediately enveloped Ophelia in a hug that was gently returned.
"It's okay. You protected my secret. You're fine. Besides…" She pulled back and gave Hannah a small smile, "I can't call you my best friend if I'm busy getting upset that you're protecting me."
Hannah felt tears in her eyes and pulled Ophelia back into the hug as she gave a wet giggle. If she was right, Ophelia had had some tears in her own eyes. She'd never said it aloud until the night of the Ball that she considered Ophelia her best friend. And now Ophelia had confirmed she felt the same.
In Hannah's opinion, it made having to lie about Ophelia's identity worth it. It also made her prouder than ever of how she'd made sure Ophelia was shot of Ron. She didn't need someone who knew and cared so little of her.
After a few moments, they pulled apart, Hannah feeling much more secure than she had been earlier.
"Gotta hand it to you, Han," Phoebe mused, "that had to be the best speech I've ever heard. Might just make a Pensieve so I can listen to it again."
Tracey grinned, "Better idea - get Hannah's memory so we can see the looks on Weasley's face." Both girls traded sinister grins, and Hannah flushed a bit out of pride and embarrassment.
Theo had a frown on his face, "Ophelia?" The girl in question looked at him in askance. "Well… are you going to be okay sharing a dorm with him when you're sent back? You'll have to until you come out…"
Hannah realized that Theo was right. Internally, she also cringed at the idea of a girl being in a room with four boys. Neville was harmless, but Ron was not. She didn't know enough about Seamus or Dean to trust them or not, but in her eyes she wouldn't want to spend a night with the Hufflepuff boys. The idea of Ophelia spending any more time with the Gryffindor boys - when she could be caught and hurt - worried her greatly.
"Oh, Ophelia, you can't! It's not safe. You could get caught, and–" Hannah began, but stopped when Ophelia squeezed her hand gently.
"I… I think I'm going to ask the Chasers for help," Ophelia said softly before she bit her lip and sighed. "Angelina, Katie and Alicia are the only girls in their dorm. Alicia is the only one who knows, but Katie and Angie have always had my back. I think if I wait until late every night, I can sneak up to their room. Alicia made an open offer when she first found out…" Ophelia took a slow, shaky breath. "... I guess it's time to cash in."
Within seconds, Hermione and Hannah both enveloped her in a crushing hug. Hannah from relief, and Hermione likely from joy. It was several moments until they pulled away as Ophelia giggled and chided them.
"Can't try my sneaky plans if you girls suffocate me before I try," she commented wryly, earning another side-hug from Hannah.
"It's good to hear you joke again," Hannah murmured as she rested her head against Ophelia's. "Don't think you've done that since last May." She carefully worded the comment to avoid mentioning how Professor Lupin scarring her leg was the first reason why she hadn't been in high spirits.
Daphne hummed thoughtfully, "Wait… Ophelia… you've beaten Weasley at wixen chess?" Ophelia nodded and Hannah raised a questioning eyebrow. Where was she going with this? "And that gauntlet… Hermione said there was a chessboard, right?" Ophelia nodded again, and Hannah felt a grin appear on her face as she knew what had happened. "But Weasley ended up having to sacrifice himself… did you let him?"
Ophelia looked a little pink, "Well, he never really apologized to Hermione for how rude he had been all that year…"
There was a moment of silence before everyone began to laugh and cackle while Ophelia flushed, looking embarrassed but proud. Hannah couldn't help it as tears slid down her cheeks while she giggled madly. Ophelia really was the greatest. She couldn't have chosen a finer best friend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your Kudos cheer the true bestie on, your Comments appreciate Ophie's sneaky-sneakiness.
The Snake Pit: https://discord.gg/w5k4TfFRGG
Next Chapter: Daphne gets angry. Very angry.
Chapter 12: An Omen, and BetrayalNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextDaphne is furious.
CW: Child Abuse Mention
~~~~~Daphne~~~~~
An Omen, and Betrayal
~~~~~Daphne~~~~~
January 16th, 1995
It disoriented Daphne how much had happened in the last three weeks or so.
Ophelia was adapting well to her new circumstances. She'd apparently managed to sneak her things to the 5th year Gryffindor girl's dorms with some help from the Chasers. The Gryffindor boys had spread the rumor that her things were missing, but nobody knew where they were. Ophelia was spending all her time either with the Slytherins or the Chasers in their dorm. McGonagall had been informed, and apparently had given them one of her signature 'I shouldn't approve of this but I do' looks. Hermione of course often joined them, and due to the secrecy and careful timing, nobody had found out just yet.
Outside of those times, she was often left with Hannah, Susan and Phoebe, who kept her very much covered. Nobody came remotely close to letting it slip that she was in the girl's dorms. As far as anyone knew, she kept her things on her at all times and slept in Camelot or something. They also still thought she was a boy, and that's all Ophelia seemed to care about.
She still wore her binder, makeup and fully covering clothes, but had started 'dropping the mask' more often. Specifically, if she was properly secluded, she took off her binder and shed a couple of layers. It had taken a very stern glare from Hannah to ensure the Chasers didn't lose their shit regarding the scars - and they still threatened bodily harm to the Dursleys - but it worked out. Ophelia definitely was in a better mood more often, and had… really the same amount of tearful outbursts, but they were happier now. Less agonized, usually. She was improving, and Daphne couldn't help but feel relieved.
She had a strong feeling Hannah was the cause. Ophelia had told her before how she considered Hannah an invaluable friend, but Hannah was the one to regale her with stories of their friendship. Best friendship, rather. Ophelia and Hannah seemed so immensely close, it was exactly like Daphne was with Tracey. They chatted, giggled, and worked like a perfect unit. They joked and teased, and whenever she was with Hannah, Ophelia was just… so completely and utterly a girl that Daphne felt stupid for ever thinking otherwise. They were even closer than Ophelia was with Hermione - and they'd saved one another's lives! Admittedly, Hannah - and to an extent, Daphne - had done the same for Ophelia. As much as that girl had a 'saving-people-thing' - or so Hannah put it - she also tended to incite the same 'thing' in others.
Not that Daphne could help it. She had a crush on the girl, after all.
She huffed as she admitted it to herself. Of course, it would be a while before she'd ever act on it. Ophelia had waaaaaay too many problems to deal with a crushing Slytherin. She wasn't even sure if Ophelia liked gi– actually, no. She was sure of that one. Ophelia definitely liked girls, she'd said as much herself. Plus she had admitted - in complete confidence - her rejection of Theo was in part because he was a boy. So that helped.
Then there was the issue of Ronald fucking Weasley.
That asinine little shit was leaving Ophelia alone, sure. But he was also complaining to anyone who'd listen that he'd lost his best friend. He was moping. A lot. He blamed Hannah and the Slytherins, of course, because he wouldn't understand responsibility if it jumped up and bit him in the arse. He seemed to at least accept that the friendship was over, but Daphne had silently hexed the little jerk more than once in the halls. He definitely knew it was her - but she'd also put enough 'fear of Ice Queen' in him that he also would rather starve than snitch.
She looked across the desk. Ophelia was drumming her fingers nervously. She was in boymode - it was their first day of classes after break, and naturally their first class was Potions. Snape seemed to be leaving them be, but that didn't stop Ophelia from drumming her fingers or shaking her leg from sheer nerves every second she wasn't working on the Draught of Peace.
"O," she whispered, using the nickname they'd decided on to minimize her stress in public. "Relax. Professor Snape won't bother you with me here. Come on." She nudged the smaller girl, who pursed her lips before she nodded and added the last bit of porcupine quills to her cauldron.
"I just really don't want him to call on me," she whispered, her voice lacking the altering charm. That was a group suggestion to help Ophelia slowly integrate into socially transitioning. Daphne still found it funny that she was doing one of the common first steps of transitioning last. If the LGBT group she snuck out to visit during her summers heard that, they'd laugh themselves silly. Well, they'd probably have some tears to shed as well. They'd been sappy enough about Daphne's anxiety about coming out to her family. She'd needed their strength to do that…
Both girls paused as Snape drew close. He peered at their potions, his expression unreadable. Daphne eyed the man warily as he stood there for a moment longer than he had the others… but eventually he left without a word to go shout at Weasley and Finnegan. Daphne and Ophelia exhaled at the same time before trading weak smiles.
The rest of the class went smoothly. At the end, though, when they handed in their samples, Snape spoke up. "Stay after class. Both of you."
Ophelia gave Daphne a horrified look, but they both nodded and waited as everyone else handed their samples in. Oddly, Hermione, Tracey, Theo and Blaise all remained behind as well. The six friends traded confused looks until the Professor stood from his desk, closed the door with a wave of his wand, and observed all of them with a scrutinizing gaze. All six fidgeted for a moment until finally the Professor spoke.
"I do not know where you are dorming, Potter. I do not care where you are dorming. I do not care about the fact that your friends are helping you hide and use various rooms for whatever purpose you use them. However," he intoned icily, striding around his desk and past the six of them. He looked back at them with that same unreadable expression as before on his face, "I do happen to be a Professor of this school. One with a particular…" His lip curled in a sort of approximation of an evil smile, "reputation."
Their eyes all went wide as he crossed the room again, back to his desk. He didn't turn back as he spoke this time, "One that would not be tarnished if you claimed to be in detention with him if you were questioned." He waved his wand and the door flung open. "Get out."
They got.
~~~~~Daphne~~~~~
Daphne punched Malfoy in the face. Hard.
Admittedly, the git deserved it. He totally deserved it.
She'd walked into the library - planning to meet up with Hannah, Hermione and Ophelia where they'd be studying - and heard Malfoy throw his usual insults. That wasn't usually enough to make Daphne punch him. Honestly she generally had a great deal of self-control. Unfortunately,the git said something particularly reprehensible - he'd said it loads of times before, calling Hermione a mudblood - and it actually made Ophelia cry. Daphne attributed that to her extremely stressed emotional state lately. The letter from Lord Abbott that she'd been too nervous to open had her really on edge.
Anyway. Malfoy made Ophelia cry, so Daphne had grabbed him by the shoulder, forced him to turn around, and slammed her fist into his face so hard she'd heard his nose crunch and he'd screamed with pain. That was satisfying.
However it was also why she and Malfoy were sitting in front of Professor Snape in his office. The Professor had a look of utter loathing on his face, Malfoy's was extremely red from all the crying and having been subjected to so many healing spells, and Daphne had a very defiant look on her face.
The Professor let out a long-suffering sigh, "And why, pray tell, did you strike Mister Malfoy in the face, Miss Greengrass?"
She huffed, "The pompous git–"
"Miss Greengrass!"
"-FINE! Draco decided it would be a good idea to call Hermione the m-word to her face," she finished, glaring at both the Professor and her housemate angrily.
"Miss Greengrass, that–"
Knock knock.
Snape threw his hands up in resignation as he went to open the door. Daphne scowled at Malfoy, who tried to sneer until he gasped in pain and brought his hand to his face with a groan. Daphne grinned evilly at that. Served the prick right.
"Headmaster, what a surprise," Snape drawled. Daphne paled as she watched Dumbledore enter the room.
"Well, Severus, Miss Granger came to my office rather in a tizzy. Said something about being worried about Miss Greengrass. I hear she struck Mister Malfoy in the face?" The Headmaster asked in a way that sounded oddly amused. He looked at Daphne and she could tell he wanted her to answer.
"He… he called Hermione the m-word, Headmaster. The blood slur," she replied, a bit uneasy. Dumbledore could expel her. He'd certainly be in the right to - especially since she'd full-on broken Malfoy's nose. She shuddered a bit at the thought, and Malfoy's eyes glittered with glee and malice. Clearly he thought the same.
"I see… but was that all, Miss Greengrass?" Dumbledore probed, his gaze… oddly knowing.
She fidgeted, and Snape's eyes narrowed. "What aren't you sharing, Miss Greengrass?"
She grimaced, "He… he made O Cry. That's Harry's nickname, since he gets straight O's. He made Harry cry. I… I just… I saw red, Professors. Harry's a really, really good friend. I just…" Her shoulders sagged and she shook her head. "I got angry."
Malfoy looked at her with contempt, but Snape and Dumbledore's gazes actually seemed to soften.
"I see," Snape mused, his expression once again unreadable. "Well… all the same, much to my regret, I shall be revoking thirty points from Slytherin." Daphne grimaced, and Malfoy seemed both pleased and upset. "From both of you." Malfoy's expression became one of shock as he looked at Snape in disbelief.
"I– wha– I didn't do anything wrong!" He protested while Daphne tried to understand what just happened.
"Yes, Mister Malfoy. You did," Dumbledore chided, his expression much less yielding than it had been so far. "You insulted a classmate with a term that is expressly forbidden on Hogwarts ground, and upset another to the point of tears. You see, emotional trauma is just as bad as physical." He shook his head, "Return to your Common Room, Mister Malfoy, before I assign you detentions."
Malfoy paled and fled. Daphne opened her mouth to speak, but found she couldn't. She shook and shuddered, a bit surprised as tears slid down her face. A moment later, Professor Snape pressed a vial to her lips. "Drink, Miss Greengrass. It's just a Calming Draught." She drank and swallowed the chalky, blueberry flavored liquid.
Daphne grimaced at the taste, but within moments the shaking stopped and she felt emotionally… subdued. "I… wh-what happened to me?" She asked, suddenly no longer struggling to speak. "Why couldn't I talk?"
"You had a panic attack, Daph," Tracey's voice murmured. Daphne looked up in surprise to see her friends there - Tracey and Ophelia, anyway.
"Daphne…" Ophelia managed before she bolted over and drew the taller girl into a hug. Daphne returned it, sighing softly at the embrace. Ophelia was usually the recipient of hugs, but when she gave them they were very tight and crushing, yet secure and comfortable. Daphne felt like Ophelia was trying to squeeze the emotions out of her.
"Hey… sorry. Didn't mean to get myself in trouble like this," she muttered, giving Ophelia an apologetic look as the smaller girl pulled away.
She huffed, "I should have tried not to cry. Last time I did that in front of Malfoy he lorded it over me for months…" Then Ophelia turned and looked at the two adult men with a grimace, "How much trouble is she in?"
Tracey came up and dragged Malfoy's abandoned chair over to sit next to Daphne, and as she wrapped her arm around Daphne the blonde girl leaned against her best friend, grateful for the support.
"Not much, Miss Potter," Dumbledore commented pleasantly. All three girls froze, and the Headmaster shook his head and chuckled. "Miss Potter, you're not that hard to read. Anyone with a sharp mind - and pardon the immodesty but mine is quite so - would be able to tell you're indeed a young woman and not a young man. Though I'll admit…" The Headmaster hesitated, before he grimaced.
Snape glared at him, "You swore."
"I know, Severus," Dumbledore replied. He looked up at Ophelia with a regret-filled expression, "I want you to know, Miss Potter, that I failed you. Miserably so."
"Headmaster?" Ophelia asked, a slight frown on her face. "What do you mean? It's pretty clear that Voldemort's the core problem from the last three years - Tournament, too, if we're being honest…"
Dumbledore shook his head, "I mean your home life, Miss Potter." Ophelia stiffened, and Daphne's head snapped up as she looked at Dumbledore.
The Calming Draught was wearing off and quickly in the face of her anger. "What did you do?" Her tone was accusatory - Headmaster be damned, if he was in any way responsible for what happened to Ophelia…
"It was I who left you on your relatives' porch thirteen years ago, Miss Potter." Dumbledore answered, his voice barely above a whisper.
CRACK!
Daphne took a shuddering breath, her hair a complete mess with how quickly she'd stood up to strike him in the face. Dumbledore reeled and fell to the floor from the blow, but somehow Snape didn't move to stop her. She didn't care, though she heard Tracey and Ophelia cry in shock.
"YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING UNCONSCIONABLE BASTARD!" Daphne roared, her voice a bellow entirely too identical to her Father's whenever he was tearing into someone for making a near-fatal mistake. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE SUFFERED? DO YOU HAVE THE SLIGHTEST IDEA WHAT SHE WENT THROUGH BECAUSE OF YOU? YOU SICK, DESPICABLE, WORTHLESS FUCK!"
She screamed and ran her hands agitatedly through her hair, beginning to pace as Dumbledore got to his feet. She didn't even care that his glasses were broken and on the floor, or that he stumbled a bit as he rose. Nor did she care about the three bleeding lines on his face caused by her nails.
She rounded on Dumbledore, her blood roaring in her ears. "She bled. She suffered. She fucking starved!Hannah told me what she found!" She screamed again, unable to think clearly. Dumbledore! Dumbledore! Leader of the 'Good side'! He'd thrown Ophelia to the wolves! Little baby Ophelia! So many people, so many families who would have protected her to their last! Who would have loved her unconditionally! Yet he stuck her with the fucking Dursleys! "WHY?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO HER?!" She screeched, face streaming with tears. She needed an answer. She felt as if she would fall apart if she didn't get it.
Tracey's expression was thunderstruck, but only briefly. At Daphne's question, she looked at Dumbledore with complete and utter loathing. Hannah had told the whole friend group. Ophelia had known - it wasn't as if she was keeping the scars themselves a secret from them anymore anyhow.
Ophelia looked…
Daphne drew her up into a hug. The smaller girl had tears streaming down her face. She was sobbing in a soundless way. The agonized expression on her face… the betrayal, heartbreak and loss she had in her eyes… she'd trusted Dumbledore. Only for him to confess that he was responsible for every minute of suffering she experienced at the hand of her relatives. Every scar, he had a hand in. Every wound, he'd given as surely as wielding the weapon himself. He was responsible for all of it. He was the one who abandoned her - who left her to suffer.
Daphne wished she could just envelop Ophelia in a protective cocoon. Save her and pull her away from all the pains in the world.
Her heart burned with fury again, and she steamrolled over Dumbledore before he could bother. "Nevermind. Don't waste your breath," she hissed, glaring at him with all the hate she could muster - which was a lot. "You don't deserve to explain yourself. I'm taking Ophelia and going. By the way, Headmaster, so you know - Lord Abbott is going to be adopting her. I don't care if you had some… some fancy wards or whatever on that house!" She felt her tears redouble their efforts as Ophelia began to shake. "She suffered, Headmaster. She fucking suffered."
Not caring if she should be punished, Daphne picked up Ophelia in her arms - princess style. The girl didn't even squeak and just wrapped her arms around Daphne, shaking and sobbing silently into her shoulder as she strode out of the room, Tracey hot on her heels.
Just as she was about to leave, she heard Snape say, "Fifty points to Slytherin, for loyalty."
~~~~~Daphne~~~~~
Crack!
Daphne flexed her fingers, not caring that they bled from striking a table. Of course, Tracey healed them with a wave of her wand anyways.
Theo wasn't much better, though at least he was letting his frustrations out on a pillow. They were in the Slytherin Commons, and upon seeing the quartet's fury, everyone was steering clear. Daphne had barely had enough time to drop Ophelia off with Hannah - "She needs her best friend." - before she'd headed down to tell Blaise and Theo.
After the initial shock wore off, Theo was just as pissed as she'd been. Probably the once-shared crush. Theo might be in a relationship with Blaise now, but he also had genuinely cared about Ophelia in a capacity beyond normal friendship for a little while. Blaise seemed calm, but his eyes and expression were the spitting image of Signora Zabini moments before she killed someone. Daphne had seen it when the woman protected her and Astoria from a particularly unsavory type in Italy. Cold, calculating fury.
Tracey's expression was solemn - but her eyes looked outright venomous. The true epitome of Slytherin. "Daphne hit him," she declared to the boys. Both looked at Daphne suddenly, before nodding in approval.
She huffed, "Should've broken his nose… Ophelia's the Gryffindor. She should be the one getting violent. But that ancient, conniving, manipulative bastard…" She growled and punched a pillow. It didn't feel as satisfying as punching Malfoy's face or slapping Dumbledore's. She punched it again, earning a grunt of approval from Theo, who'd beaten his so badly it had stuffing coming out of it.
"Ophelia's too afraid," Blaise commented, his voice cold and sinister. Daphne couldn't help but shiver. Clearly he inherited more from La Vedova Nera than her looks. "Guess you make up for it." He tilted his head thoughtfully, and Daphne wondered if he'd gone unhinged. "Abbott Family… I guess they'll work. Hannah will keep her stable. I don't think we can take things lightly with Ophelia anymore."
Theo nodded, a scowl on his face, "No more fucking half-measures. She needs better protection. I think I'll message Father." Daphne whipped her head to look at him in shock, but Theo just shook his head at her. "I don't care what he did right now - Ophelia needs help, and Father's on the Board of Governors. I bet we can get Dumbledore ousted. At least McGonagall seems to give a damn…"
Daphne took a slow breath, but still needed to grip the pillow so tightly her knuckles went white. "I almost want to leave Hogwarts. Take Ophelia and run. I wish I could, but this… this tournament! Ugh!" She let go of the pillow only to haul off and strike it again, letting out her frustrations about the Tournament.
Tracey sat next to her, slowly wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "For what it's worth… you're an awesome friend. Ophie needed someone who'd stand up for her and be in her corner like that. And hey…" She cracked a grin, "How many girls do you think can say they've slapped Dumbledore and gotten away with it?"
Daphne managed the tiniest of smiles, but then her shoulders sagged as the fury trickled out of her. She sighed and leaned back, feeling boneless. "Why…? Why would he ever do that? Surely he kept an eye on her, didn't he? He had to have known… had to have…"
Tracey began to gently rub her back, her expression grim. "I don't know that he did, Daph," she murmured. "I mean, he's not infallible. Maybe he thought they were good people? Lily Potter was apparently this paragon of virtue or something. Could he have thought her sister and nephew would be the same?"
Theo scowled, "Oh, yeah. Because family's always alike." He shook his head and scoffed at the idea, "I know you don't feel that way, Trace, but if Dumbledore does then I ought to hit him, too." He flexed his fingers, likely thinking of how satisfying it would feel to do just that.
Blaise arched his eyebrows in a way that suggested amusement, even as his face still held the same thinly-veiled homicidal intent. "You're becoming quite the pugilist, Daphne," he mused, "First Malfoy, now Dumbledore? Voldemort better keep his eyes peeled, or you'll be giving him a right hook."
Daphne smirked at that, and briefly let herself indulge in the fantasy of punching the Evil Lord right in his arrogant face. "Wouldn't that be the dream?" She sighed and shook her head, "But no. I should reserve my punches for the Dursleys." She spat out the last word like the slur it should have been, and earned some nods of agreement from her friends for doing so.
"Well! If it isn't the Harry Potter Protection Squad!" A familiar voice said. They all turned to see Pansy, a mischievous smirk on her face. She looked at Daphne, who tensed. "Oh, please - I don't care that you punched Draco," she commented before she rolled her eyes.
Theo frowned, "But aren't you dating?"
Pansy snorted at that, "We went to the Ball, Theodore. That's just a social event. If I actually wanted to date him, I'd act like anything other than one of his sycophants when he's in range." Her face screwed up in disgust and she shook her head, "Blame my Father. Regardless - is there any truth to the rumor that Lord Abbott's trying to adopt Potter?"
Blaise looked up at Pansy, his expression calculating, "If there is?"
"Eep! Merlin! Don't look at someone like that, Blaise! Christ, I thought you were going to kill me in my sleep!" Pansy chastised before she shook herself, though she made a point not to meet Blaise's eyes after that. "Anyway, I'm just saying that if there is, then that's good." She sighed, her expression a bit melancholic, "He'd be a good kid if just Abbott and maybe Granger were influencing him. Weasley made him so afraid of us for too long. But hey! You all fixed that!"
"Uh… how?" Tracey asked, visibly confused.
Pansy sighed and looked around a bit. Upon seeing whatever it was she wanted, she leaned in a bit closer, "It's obvious to anyone with eyes that Potter's got some serious mental health issues. Depression or anxiety or something. Maybe both, or more. He needs help, not jerks like Draco getting on his case. Besides, you four are…" She grimaced, but then it turned into a genuine smile seemingly against her will, "The best of Slytherin, alright? You're pretty damn good people. Not to mention I bet you appreciate Potter saving your grades."
She grinned at the mild protests of indignation she got for the last comment before she stood up and straightened her skirt. "Feel free to let Potter know he's got an ally in me, if we ever end up talking in private. And Daphne?" The blonde raised an eyebrow, to which Pansy smirked. "Thanks. I've been wanting to hit Draco like that for years."
Daphne was a bit gobsmacked as Pansy headed off, a spring in her step. "Did… did that just happen?"
"Did Pansy Parkinson just thank you for punching Draco Malfoy in the face?" Theo clarified, to which she nodded. "Yeah. Yeah I think it did…"
Blaise shook his head, his expression finally softening, "Girls are barmy. This is why I'm gay."
Tracey snorted, "No, you're gay because of Theo's ass– MMPH!" She scowled at Theo, who was blushing after having interrupted her with an expertly aimed pillow.
"I don't want to hear that from the girl who was eyeing Hermione's ass during the Ball," he hissed, crossing his arms and giving her a cross expression.
Daphne groaned theatrically and leaned back in her chair, "The day Ophelia's stable, I'm jumping her. I don't fucking care. It's the only way I'll stay sane after dealing with my friends being irritating lovebirds day in and day out."
"Aww, thanks," Tracey demurred before she cackled as Daphne swatted her with a pillow. "Okay, okay! I yield! I yield!"
Daphne huffed and then chucked the pillow at Blaise. "Ow! What did I do?!"
"You're responsible for me figuring out she's a girl! I could have just let my crush die because I thought she was a boy! But no! Now my stupid lesbian arse knows that she's a girl and the crush is worse!" She huffed while her friends all grinned like idiots. "You're terrible people."
"Says the girl who was about to wear jeans and a jumper to a Ball," Theo retorted, his expression full of glee. "Oh, Merlin! The rumors that would have started… Hah!"
Tracey cackled at that, sounding every bit the stereotypical witch. "Oh gods… snrk! 'Heiress Greengrass, lowly slob!'" She crowed before cackling some more until Daphne jabbed her in the side. "Ow! Assault! Assault– aaaah! Help!"
Daphne kept poking her in the side and belly while Tracey squealed and giggled, but neither boy got up to help after Daphne gave them a death glare. After a few moments she pulled away while Tracey heaved for air, tears in her eyes.
"T… traitors…!" Tracey managed as she gasped for breath.
"Hey, she's your best friend. You're the one who's supposed to know better than to call her a slob, even if it's tr– hrnk!" Theo grunted as a pillow struck him so hard in the face some of the stuffing slipped out. It was the one he'd been abusing earlier.
Daphne huffed and glared at Blaise, "Got anything to say?"
"Nope! No ma'am!" Blaise declared, his voice cracking as he looked at her with the appropriate amount of fear.
Daphne huffed before she frowned, something coming to mind.
"I hope Ophelia will finally open that letter from Lord Abbott… It's good news. It's just got to be."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your Kudos approve of 'Daphne the Pugilist' and your Comments join her prayers that Lord Abbott's letter is good news.
The Common Rooms: https://discord.gg/w5k4TfFRGG
Next Chapter: Opening the Letter
Notes:Updated as of 9/7/23 to solve a plothole about Daphne and her parents knowing she's gay.