Chapter 25: Azalea FloweringNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextAzalea comes out to her friends.
CW: Anxiety Attack, Autism-based Meltdown
~~~~~Azalea~~~~~
Azalea Flowering
~~~~~Azalea~~~~~
April 30th, 1995
"So come on - let's show them Azalea."
The girl in question gave a small smile at hearing her own words come from a friend.
Pansy gently pulled her out from behind the curtains while Azalea nervously smoothed out the skirt she wore, immensely grateful she'd remembered to put on some white tights underneath to help with the dysphoria she felt towards her legs.
As they stepped out, she couldn't help how her anxiety mounted and her heartbeat raced when she saw her assembled friends. Ophelia gave her a supportive smile and Phoebe traded a knowing look with Susan. Hannah seemed more than a bit surprised, but seemed to regain her composure quickly enough. Hermione looked like she was about to explode with giddiness, which was enough to bring an involuntary, nervous smile to her face.
And then there were her fellow Slytherins.
Tracey was wide-eyed and seemed stunned into silence, but she didn't seem upset so much as caught off-guard. Daphne's eyebrows shot up and she had an expression of surprise, but that soon melted into relief and she gave a weak smile and a tiny wave to Azalea. Lastly…
She decided to ignore the open gaping Blaise was doing.
"Go on," Pansy whispered softly, gently placing a hand on Azalea's lower back and pushing her a half-step forwards. Azalea gave her a weak yet grateful smile before facing everyone, clutching the hem of her skirt more than a tad nervously.
"H-hey," she began, inwardly kicking herself for the awkwardness in her voice. "So… yeah. I've been kind of… struggling… for a-a while. With dysphoria, I mean. It… I didn't realize that's what it was, but… Pansy and I got to talking, and then I just… it sort of clicked. It's why I was always so… well, anxious and closed off. I was starting to h-hate… e-everything about myself. My voice, my face… my body…" She glanced once at Blaise, and his expression went ashen as he realized what she meant. "So… yeah. I realized… I-I'm a girl. And… a-and my new name is Azalea. So…" She shifted a bit uncomfortably, her piece said. Now she just had to wait and see how they'd react.
"I'm happy for you," Phoebe spoke up, the first to say anything. She had a faintly amused look on her face as she then glanced at Ophelia. "And thank you for not trying to hide it for three years and making us worry about you."
Ophelia's cheeks pinked and she swatted Phoebe's shoulder. "Prat," she grumbled, but her lips were twitching into a smile. "I'm glad you felt comfortable telling us, Azalea. Thank you." She got up and took a couple steps so she could give Azalea a hug that she returned, the squeeze tight and encouraging. "Proud of you, girl," she murmured before pulling away, winking at Azalea's flush of embarrassment.
Hannah was up next, looking Azalea up and down as she looked thoughtful before giving a nod. "You dress up nice. I'm definitely taking you clothes shopping sometime. Deal?" Azalea flushed and stammered her agreement, causing Hannah to grin and clap her back. "It'll be fun. Especially if we ditch Susan. They have nosense of style."
"I resent that statement," Susan grumbled half-heartedly with a slight huff, earning grins from their fellow Hufflepuff.
Daphne studied Azalea for a long moment before she gave a sad smile. "I'm really happy for you, Azalea. I'm glad you're doing better," she said, and Azalea was grateful she hadn't tried to bring up the other night or anything. Daphne wasn't too bad with social awareness… most of the time.
She noticed Tracey looked happy for her, but was being quiet. Probably for similar reasons. Though the way she and Hermione had their hands joined and looked rather tired left Azalea a touch worried. Was everything okay for them? She certainly hoped so. Maybe the upcoming exams had them exhausted. That wouldn't be surprising.
She met Blaise's eye again, and he seemed a bit melancholic, but gave her a supportive smile. Azalea felt her heart ache - she hadn't exactly gotten over the breakup - but managed a weak one in kind before she turned back to Pansy, who was still by her side.
"Thanks," she murmured, to which Pansy smirked and patted her back.
"Told you it'd be alright," she murmured, before she frowned a bit and glanced between Azalea and Blaise. "Want to get out of here?" She said a bit more softly.
Azalea hesitated, thoughtful. She didn't want to still seem like a mess, running away when her friends were all there… but she had to admit she felt very overwhelmed. It wasn't even just Blaise being there - being the center of attention was hardly pleasant, even among friends. She'd started rubbing her left upper arm with her right hand - when had that happened? She only ever did that when she was really anxious and overwhelmed. Had she really overdone it already?
Ophelia glanced at her and then waved Hannah off, murmuring something to her before she turned back to Azalea. "Hey - you okay? Feeling a bit overwhelmed? It's alright if you are. You just did a lot," she said gently, her usual reassuring smile appearing. The one she gave a bit more often of late whenever she said she could handle something. Since when had Ophelia become so… reliable and mature?
Maybe it was also just that Azalea was neither of those things.
"I-I'm fine, I just-" Azalea tried to say, but her throat closed up. Why? Why couldn't she say what she wanted to say? She tried to say something but it wouldn't come, and she was starting to panic. What was going on? What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she just talk? Talking wasn't hard… right? So why couldn't she just do it?
Ophelia's expression went from concerned to alarmed and she turned Azalea around, wrapping an arm around her and escorting her out of the room. Azalea tried to protest but couldn't, especially because she was still confused. Why was Ophelia doing this? What was going on?
Not a minute later, Ophelia had her in a separate room and began casting numerous spells. The windows were covered with curtains, the door was shut and silenced, the candles were all extinguished save for one she set on a desk, and then Ophelia took Azalea to a nearby chair and had her sit.
"Ten minutes, okay? I'll be back in ten minutes. I need you to trust me, okay? Just stay here and wind down. Do whatever you need to do. Pace, bounce your legs, whatever. I know it sounds strange, but trust me - it will help. Once I come back I'll explain it to you, okay?" Ophelia implored, looking very serious and worried.
Azalea still couldn't speak, so she just gave a small nod and Ophelia relaxed and smiled at her before indeed leaving with one last look of concern. Once the door closed, Azalea was in absolute silence save for her own heartbeat that roared in her ears, and her breathing which she hadn't noticed becoming so labored and rapid.
She didn't know what to do at first. Her entire body felt electrified and… overwhelmed? Was that it? She felt that pins and needles sensation but without the numbness and as if it was under her skin. She tried bouncing her legs like Ophelia said, and within seconds both legs were bouncing rhythmically and rapidly while she ran her hands up and down the opposite upper arms, and it… helped?
She didn't understand why it was helping, but she still felt that sensation. As if subconsciously, she stood up and began to rapidly pace around the dim room, the near-pain she'd felt on her skin earlier beginning to lessen. She didn't know why, but the darkness paired with the quiet that was pierced only by her footsteps, breathing, and the sound of shifting fabric as she ran her hands up and down her arms was… helping. It didn't make sense. What did Ophelia know that Azalea didn't?
It frustrated her, but that frustration just felt like it seeped right out with her stress as she continued to pace and rub her arms. It felt good doing this. She felt like she was at max tension on… something, and this was releasing the pressure in a way that felt great. She barely noticed as her breathing began to steady, her hands began to slow, and her pacing was replaced with bouncing her legs a lot less rapidly after she sat back down.
Why did that all… help? She still didn't feel great, per se, but the pressure felt as if it had been greatly reduced and the anxieties she'd been having didn't feel so intense now. The pins and needles were still… there, but they weren't so bad now. She released her arms and settled down some more, now just patting her hands against her lap somewhat idly. She blew some air and it felt nice, so she took a deep breath and did it again, careful not to accidentally snuff out the candle. She was about to do it for a sixth time - it was kind of fun - when the door opened and she jolted a bit.
"Hey," Ophelia greeted her gently, closing the door softly behind her. She walked over and drew a chair up, sitting down and looking Azalea up and down a bit before a soft smile appeared. "You look better. How are you feeling? Can you talk? It's okay if you can't," she said gently, her tone soft and kind. It was really… nice, honestly.
Azalea opened her mouth, but once again she couldn't talk. It wasn't out of panic, she thought, but she felt… tired? As if she didn't have the energy for it - it felt like talking suddenly required a lot of energy and she just… couldn't. She gave a gentle shake of her head, but Ophelia didn't seem upset.
"That's okay. It happens to me sometimes, too," she replied, drawing her legs up and sitting cross-legged in her chair. Azalea also noticed she began to rock a tiny bit back and forth, though Ophelia didn't seem to notice. "It's called going nonverbal - when you actively can't speak because it's painful, stressful, or just takes too much energy. I'm able to force myself all the same, but at the expense of leaving myself totally knackered later on. My recommendation is to not force it - it isn't pleasant," she began conversationally, seeming like she was trying to figure out where to start. "How much do you know about mundane mental health practices?"
Azalea grimaced and shook her head before holding up a hand with the fingers shaped as a circle. Zero. She didn't know anything about Mind Healers of the mundane world - nothing of substance anyway. She knew they had to exist, seeing as Mind Healers came after mundane Psychological practices, but didn't know what all they did. Presumably some aided in therapy like Ophelia's own Mind Healer? But beyond that, Azalea came up empty.
Ophelia nodded, her hands slowly running up and down her thighs. "That's understandable. Even among mundanes there are some who don't know much," she admitted before tilting her head a bit and then shrugging. "Frederick took me to undergo some testing a few weeks ago. It's called autism, though some call it Asperger's. There's… similarities? They're considered separate diagnoses, but Frederick and the woman who performed the testing said that– ah, I'm getting sidetracked." She gave a nervous smile before ruffling her own hair a bit and continuing. "So… autism affects a lot of things - it's different for everyone, honestly. But one thing it can affect is how things stimulate you. That's why when there's a lot of sound, or light, or even just emotional stimulation like what you went through, it can get veryoverwhelming and upsetting. Outright painful, really. Do you ever have times where you just feel suffocated? It's too bright, too loud, or something's too scratchy or itchy or just plain uncomfortable to touch?"
Azalea blinked in surprise at the onslaught of information, and frowned as she thought about Ophelia's words. They… rang rather true. Time and time again - every day, really - she just felt… overwhelmed. Like everything was becoming too much. Certain materials were painful against her skin, and some that were usually fine occasionally became totally intolerable. Sometimes it felt like every single sound was excruciating and she had to cover her ears and close her eyes just to drown it out. Sometimes she got so bothered in the library - so many words - that she had to walk out and do something else just to get her mind to clear.
She felt a tear roll down her cheek. It made sense. What Ophelia had done made sense now. She'd recognized Azalea was overstimulated, and had brought her somewhere that had extremely little outside stimuli in order to help relax her. But…
She frowned. What about the movements? She tried to imply the question by pointing to her bouncing legs, hoping Ophelia would understand.
The raven-haired girl seemed confused for a moment before her expression cleared. "Oh! You're wondering why I said to bounce your legs or pace or whatever?" Azalea nodded. "It helped, yeah?" Another nod. "That makes sense. It's called 'self-stimulatory behavior'. Just call it stimming, though - much easier. It's how people - not just those with autism or Asperger's - sort of… cope, I suppose, with a lot of stimuli? Emotional or physical. I tend to bounce my legs, pace, mutter, whatever. It can be repeated motions, sounds, touching certain textures - there're a lot of different ways to stim. They help because they're one way how we express ourselves - especially one way how I express myself. My frustrations, joy, and so on. When I'm stressed I tend to bounce my legs, I wring my hands when I'm worried, so on and so forth. 'Course, it's no guarantee that you'll do the same stim every time for the same emotion - gah, getting sidetracked again." She shook her head and sighed before giving Azalea a slight smile. "Anyway, yeah. I figured letting you know how to try and let things out would help you figure out what works and how to get all that stress and energy out."
Azalea let that settle in, her legs slowing a bit more. She was beginning to understand, now. It felt so… simple. The explanation, the reasoning. It just…
"...I was just different?" She asks softly, her voice finally returning to her.
Ophelia gave her a sad smile. "Yep. Just different," she confirmed. "You might have some touch revulsion, too - or aversion. Totally normal. There might be other causes, like your dysphoria, but Frederick says that type of thing can be a 'comorbidity'. When you have two issues that have the same symptom, usually causing the symptom to be worse than it would be with just one or the other. I have autism and ADHD, for example - it's why I'm so high-strung all the time. It messes with my brain." She wrinkled her nose a bit, "Well, there's actually more than that. Anxiety and depression and… well, a few other choice gifts from my relatives."
Azalea blinked, a bit shocked as she wrapped her head around that. "I… how… how do you function?" She asked, genuinely concerned. "That sounds like… so much."
Ophelia chuckled and shook her head, rubbing her thighs a bit more. "Oh, maybe. But really, it isn't so bad if I'm careful and, well, actually cut myself some slack. It's why I don't attend Potions classes anymore. I've gotten a tutor – or more accurately, Mahalu's started teaching me on that front so I don't have to be around… well, him. I also do my affirmations every day, usually with Alicia or Angelina. I don't force myself to eat things I dislike. I voice my opinions… It's a lot of 'self-care'."
Azalea frowned. "Self-care?" She echoed, tilting her head. "What do you mean? Like… spa days?" She asked uncertainly, recalling the other night when Pansy had forced her through that entire ordeal.
Ophelia shook her head. "Not exactly, though those certainly are nice every once in a while. I more mean… cutting myself some slack? Literally 'taking care of myself'. Self-care. Making sure I eat, taking a hot shower, reading a book solely for leisure… all people have different amounts of work they can actively do in a week without hurting themselves. If I'm not pushing myself or actively interested or fixated on a subject… well, even just attending classes is hard. I've actually gotten something called an 'IEP' - an Individual Education Plan. It makes it so I can stay out of or leave a class early - or just take a break - without any issue if I'm overwhelmed. I also have a tutor who communicates with the Professors to make sure he knows what coursework I might miss out on and he helps me catch up when I'm able. It significantly improved my mental health. I still can't work more than about one hour a day during the rougher periods, but…" She shrugged a little bit, giving a sheepish smile. "It helps. Quite a lot, actually."
Azalea felt her shoulders sag a bit. "O-oh… that… actually sounds kind of nice," she mumbled, unable to help her grimace. "Though I doubt Dad would let me anywhere near a Mind Healer. He'll probably want nothing to do with me when he finds out… well… about this." She gestured to herself. The clothes, the lightly applied makeup, her long hair… everything.
In the eyes of House Nott, she was a disgrace.
Ophelia looked pained for a moment before she frowned and put her hand on her chin, softly muttering to herself in a way that was unintelligible. She drummed her fingers against her lips before she nodded a little to herself. "Well… in the magical world, there's circumstances that can give a child some agency from their parents and let them make medical decisions for themselves. And…" She looked pained but continued, "Well… if your father… um…"
Azalea sighed, knowing what she meant. "If he disowns me, I can make decisions for myself… yeah," she confirmed, shoulders sagging. "I… kind of expect to receive a letter to such an effect within a week of publicly coming out. So… yeah." She blew some air, leaning back in her chair. "He'll still be required by law to financially provide for me, but… well. I won't be able to live under his roof, or inherit his title. Though I know I'd be able to take hormonal potions with the allowance I've saved up, but… I doubt I'd be able to afford a Mind Healer. Maybe when I'm an adult and can work?"
Ophelia frowned and shook her head. "No, that's not good enough. If I'd waited any longer, who knows what sort of state I'd be in as an adult? I certainly don't think it would be a good one…" She shuddered after trailing off and shook herself. "No. We'll look and see what we can find out about getting you your independence earlier if we can, and regardless, I have way more money than I know what to do with. I'll pay for you to speak to someone."
Azalea opened her mouth to object, but Ophelia held up a hand. "No. Stop. No buts, no objections. This is something I want to do for you, and will do for you because you are my friend and I want to help you because you shouldn't have to deal with this and… and I know what it's like, okay? Being so overwhelmed you can't speak - can't think. Feeling like every little noise is agonizingly loud. Every colour and light genuinely hurts to look at. You can't sit still because you just have so much energy practically burning under your skin. I…" She sighed and gave Azalea a very, very tired look. "I understand. So… please. Let me help you. You've supported me a lot through everything I've had to deal with this year. Let me return the favor."
Azalea blinked, both immensely touched and unable to help the slight warmth to her cheeks. She'd never been told something so heartfelt before - especially not on her own behalf. It made her feel awkward inside, yet also warm and comforted. She couldn't really speak, so she gave a hesitant nod and Ophelia relaxed, smiling again.
She got up and gave Azalea a brief yet tight hug. "Thank you. I'm gonna go and give you some space, but I'll leave Pansy right outside the door, okay? She'll take you back to your Commons when you're ready," she murmured before pulling away, smiling at Azalea and patting her on the shoulder before walking out and leaving.
Azalea couldn't help but think that she was rather lucky to have a friend as kind and amazing as Ophelia.
~~~~~Azalea~~~~~
May 28th, 1995
"A maze?" Azalea asked softly, brow furrowed.
Ophelia nodded, still pacing around the room. After she'd returned from the overgrown Quidditch pitch, she'd called everyone together to tell them. It had become habitual for big news to be shared with the entire friend group at once, so that wasn't too odd.
Ophelia twirled her wand between her fingers as she paced, looking thoughtful. "There's a lot of ways this could go wrong… nobody ever found out what the whole plot was, with my name coming out of the Goblet," she rambled, visibly frustrated. Azalea knew it had to be bad because she was working her jaw - she usually only did that when she was especially upset. "It's a race to the finish. Each point is a minute gap. After Fleur goes in, it'll be three minutes til' they let Cedric in, seven more til' they let Viktor in, and another fourteen til' they send me in. Well, try to," she amended.
Susan hummed. "Not planning on trying? I certainly don't blame you. Could just forfeit like with the First Task. Not like anyone's in danger this time," they mused, resting their chin atop their hands.
Ophelia sighed, running a hand through her hair as she waggled her wand some more. "See, that's just it. Mahalu told me Karkaroff's a Death Eater - former, but whatever. Bagman was a sympathizer, too. That makes this a lot more sketchy," she countered, shifting to cross her arms and tap her wand against her chin as she paced. "Moody… She said something's off about Moody. Some kind of glamour, or something. She couldn't detect it because of some enchantment on his leg. Guess it's more than just a hunk of wood. But really, she's got a point. He tried to tell me I should fly for the First Task, and that book he gave Neville after the Unforgivables lesson just happened to have Gillyweed, which just happens to be useful for the Second Task?" She shook her head, pacing faster. "He's involved. Dunno how, but he is…"
Hermione looked very uncomfortable and traded a look with Daphne before she shifted how she sat, tugging a bit at her curls. "That… makes a disturbing amount of coincidences," she commented, crossing her legs as her brow furrowed. "If Miss Xochitecatl figured that out about Karkaroff before Moody did… honestly, Moody shouldknow that, right? And make it known? He was a big figure during the last war. Why would he…"
Azalea felt a cold chill run down her spine and shuddered, sitting straighter. "Ugh… that just gives me a really bad feeling," she grumbled before shaking her head. "Ophelia… what if whoever's behind this puts someone in danger on purpose? To make you participate? They have to know you wouldn't go in that maze otherwise, and that's the best way to get you alone and unsupervised. Those modified Snitches would be really easy to break or disable…"
Ophelia grimaced as the mood in the room became more grim. "You're not wrong. Maybe I should prepare myself for an ambush," she muttered, shaking her head. "But how would they do it? Traps? Bagman said there'd be Magical Creatures within - I doubt anything too crazy. Putting in dragons would be redundant. Maybe Acromantulas and the like. Hexes… Artifices… Living Armours, maybe?" She hummed, tapping her wand against her chin again.
"That's still a lot - even for an of-age wix," Daphne muttered, visible concern on her face as she kept her eyes on her girlfriend. "Why does the Tournament keep throwing such insane tasks at you? How is this 'International Cooperation'?" She asked, obviously exasperated.
Ophelia blinked, obviously surprised. She traded a look with Hermione before looking around the room. "Do… do none of you know the origins of the TriWix?" Ophelia asked, obviously confused more than anything. Besides Hermione, everyone shook their heads, totally lost. "Oh… wow, um… Hermione?"
Hermione - who had been wiggling in the way she did when she was excited to explain something - immediately jumped up. "It's meant to find 'Champions' for the countries around the world," she began, animatedly waving her hands around as she spoke. Azalea now recognized this as a stim - Hermione had told her about autism as well one day, and how she had it, same as Ophelia. "That's where the term originates. It used to be held in Atlantis every year, and the schools brought in were randomly chosen from the top ten performing schools every year. This year, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang were fifth, second, and seventh - respectively, of course," she began, as if this were all perfectly natural to memorize. Then again, they probably should have looked this stuff up, what with Ophelia being a Champion of her own. "We looked it up, and Ophelia was registered as part of the number one school - Mahō no Michi in Japan. The Tasks are supposed to challenge the 'Champions' and turn them into exceptional wixen meant to advance their country and improve things for them. Previous Champions are wixen such as Tomoe Gozen, Jeanne D'Arc, Abigail Williams, Francis Drake, the Rhani of Jhansi-Lakshmibai… There've been dozens of extremely famous wixen who became so popular because they had their start on the main stage in Atlantis."
Ophelia nodded as she then picked up where Hermione left off. "Look at the Champions. Viktor Krum - Global Quidditch Star. Cedric - he's meant to be Head Boy next year, and even with the Tournament, he's the top scorer in his year. Fleur's the number one Formal Duellist under the age of fifty in all of Europe. They're natural leaders. They're charismatic, talented, kind, strong…" She sighed and shook her head. "The only reason the TriWix was canceled was because Atlantis stopped wanting to host it when a rampaging Cockatrice killed all three Champions twenty years ago. Plus the countries involved didn't want to be part of it, and in the wixen world, China, India, and the United States are really big names," she explained, though that last bit Azalea knew from her 'proper pureblood upbringing' Father had bemoaned wasting on her in his disinheritance letter. "Technically these challenges are rather watered down, though our guess is that the reason is that Hogwarts isn't as equipped for emergencies as Atlantis is. They keep a brigade of thirty InterPol Aurors there year-round, and while Hogwarts hasbeen allotted a dozen, the grounds really are just microscopic compared to Atlantis. It's why the delegations are only a quarter of their of-age students. Normally the entirety of the school attended their classes at Atlantis, their Professors going along with them."
That sunk in for several moments as everyone looked between one another, organizing their thoughts on things. Though that was put to rest when Hannah spoke up.
"Wait. Where are the InterPol Aurors? I've not seen any extra staff…" She said, eyebrow arched.
Susan rolled their eyes and lightly shoved their friend's shoulder. "That's obvious, silly. InterPol Aurors are authorized to be Disillusioned at all hours when on the job. Aunt Amy told me all about what they do, and so did Auntie Flav," they explained with a smirk. "Auntie Flav says that ever since her brother quit his job as an InterPol Auror, he's been able to give her some information here and there."
Phoebe's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Wait, you have an uncle who used to be an InterPol Auror? That's nuts. Mi Mamá used to be one, too - got promoted out of Argentina's Auror Department twenty years ago. It's how she met mi Papá," she explained, grinning. "Where's your Uncle work now?"
Susan frowned. "That's just it, I don't know," they replied, shoulders sagging. "He barely even looked at me last year after he resigned…"
Ophelia froze and turned to face Susan. "Your… your Uncle is Remus Lupin?"
Susan seemed a bit surprised at her panicked expression but gave a slow nod. "Um… yes, he is. Auntie Flav - Flavia? She's his older sister," they replied, brow furrowing. "Is something wrong?"
Ophelia seemed a bit shaken, but she went and sat down, running a hand through her hair. "Remus, he… he was friends with my father," she began, more than obviously shaken. "Parvati told me all about it. Apparently her Dad was part of it all. The Marauders. That's…" She fumbled through her bag before pulling out a piece of parchment and then placing her wand against it and muttering a phrase too quietly to be heard. There, on top, words appeared.
Messrs. Moony, Rattles, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail are proud to present:
The Marauder's Map
"They…" Ophelia swallowed, a single tear sliding down her face. "They invented this together. It's a magic map, taps into the wards. I've been working on reverse…" She shook her head and muttered something again with her wand tapping the paper and it went blank. "Nevermind. Just… I asked him about my parents all last year. I've been sending him letters. He… he hasn't told me anything," she said with a bit of a crack in her voice, sniffling and wiping a tear away. "He was supposed to be my uncle, but… there was this stupid accident last year. He… well, you've seen those scratch scars on my thigh?" A couple nervous nods. "He's a werewolf - the rumor is true. He was out, away from the school where he couldn't hurt anybody. I'd gone looking for him because I saw him in the forest, on the map… he ended up scratching me when he didn't realize who I was, even with his Wolfsbane. I don't blame him, but… he won't even talk to me. I… if I want to learn anything about my parents, who am I supposed to ask? All the teachers know about is how they did academically and any detentions Dad got - which, sure he had plenty, but I can tell he wasn't the nicest guy at first," she continued, rambly and obviously upset but mostly dismissive of the last bit. "I would ask Mister Patil, but Parvati said he's in India and won't be back until August. I… Remus… he's supposed to be family, and he won't even l-look at me…"
Then the dam broke and Ophelia broke into sobs. Daphne was at least next to her and immediately drew her into a hug, comforting her and holding her close. She caught Azalea's eye and the message was clear.
Immediately, Azalea began quietly ushering the others out with Hermione's help. Everyone seemed awkward, but agreed to give them their privacy and went their separate ways. Azalea closed the door and her shoulders sagged as she leaned against the wall, glancing at Hermione.
"Why must the world keep beating her up?" She asked softly, unable to stop herself. "Ophelia's so… sweet and genuine… why can't she just catch a break?"
Hermione sighed and shrugged her shoulders weakly. "Beats me. I've been asking myself that for years. There's this little cabin in the Forest of Dean? She gave it to me. Apparently it belonged to the Potters. I… she could've used it for herself, but Dumbledore had her all convinced she had no choice but to stay with her relatives," she morosely grumbled, sliding down into a squat. It was a good thing she had jeans on.
Azalea frowned. "A… why would she give you the cabin? Don't get me wrong, I know you're close, but…"
Hermione grimaced. "You and Pansy don't have a monopoly on bad parents, sadly," she replied, exhaling sadly. "Mine acted like I'd been dragged into a cult and couldn't amount to anything, even though McGonagall explained the side program Hogwarts offers - that I'm taking - to get me my A-Levels. It's so…"
"Ridiculous," Azalea whispered, looking up at the ceiling and beginning to realize just how much they were allhurting from the actions of the adults in their lives. "It's so ridiculous…"
Hermione's silence and Ophelia's muffled sobs from the door between them spoke volumes of how true those words rang.
Notes:Woof. Rough chapter all around.
Your Kudos congratulate Azalea on coming out while your Comments give her tips on understanding her autism.
Discord: https://discord.gg/w5k4TfFRGG
Next Chapter: The Final Task Begins
Chapter 26: Revival in the GraveyardNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextIt is time for the TriWixen Tournament to come to an end. Welcome back to Ophelia's POV.
CW: Torture, Blood, Gore
~~~~~Ophelia~~~~~
Revival in the Graveyard
~~~~~Ophelia~~~~~
June 17th, 1995
Boom!
The cannon went off and Fleur entered the Maze, her venture accompanied by cheering. Ophelia grimaced, hating every ounce of the plan she'd ended up settling on.
She would try to win, against her better judgment. Thankfully she'd been given a bit of freedom in her choice of dress, and at Mahalu's recommendation wore a set of jeans and a plain charcoal jumper that were woven with undetectable runes, courtesy of the Aztec Priestess herself. Dumbledore probably could have detected them, but he made no comment whatsoever.
Ophelia slightly adjusted the collar of the blouse she had on underneath, sparing brief glances towards Cedric and Krum. Both had proper athletic garb. Made sense - they were in it to win it, too. Though unlike Ophelia, they didn't have the support of one of the strongest wixen in the world. Though of course, that didn't make them unimpressive. If their designation as Champions held any weight, technically their names would one day be as famed as Mahalu's in the history books. Krum's already was, on the Quidditch side of things.
Boom!
The Bulgarian spared the two a brief glance, and then Cedric was running with the sound of the second cannon.
Ophelia tightened her hold on her rosewood wand, brow furrowing. She recalled Angelina's story about Krum - his obsessive creepiness during the Ball. If she got the chance… well, the Maze was a free for all, the way Bagman put it. Hexing the perv would just be a public service.
Besides, he was staring at her chest, the sick bastard.
She lifted her right heel backwards and tapped her wand twice against the sole of her shoe before repeating the action with her left. No magic was cast, but Krum visibly stiffened and his gaze became much more focused on her wand. Clearly he hadn't forgotten the sight of her intimidating Ludo Bagman.
Bagman himself certainly hadn't. He kept his gaze pointed directly to the floor whenever Ophelia was near. Karkaroff seemed to have been scared off completely - he wasn't even in the…
Ah. So he was in the Maze, was he? Well, no matter. Whatever Karkaroff tried, according to Mahalu it wouldn't be enough to defeat an aura-user. Not to mention, Ophelia was allegedly growing at a rapid pace. Much as Ophelia had a tendency to doubt herself, Mahalu had expressly forbidden Ophelia from doing anything with praise other than accepting it. Which was… a mite embarrassing, but whatever.
Boom!
Krum bolted inside the Maze, any duck-footed pretense abandoned. Ophelia rolled her eyes. Only a fool would believe a man as capable and graceful on a broom as Krum could possibly be awkward and clumsy on his feet. The grace she had with flying that had improved with the removal of her binder had translated well to her general balance and such. Even the mild limp she had as a result of her injuries had become far less pronounced.
Though according to Mahalu it could also be that the improvements to her magical control and power had caused her body's natural healing magics to improve. Not like that detracted from her point, though.
She gazed towards the stands, meeting the eyes of Hannah and her grandparents. Lord and Lady Abbott gave her supportive, reassuring smiles, while Hannah herself grinned and gave Ophelia the thumbs up. The day she'd gotten to spend with them due to the Tournament had been quite nice, honestly. Getting to know the Abbotts a little bit beyond the letters exchanged had been nice. They also promised to teach her more about her grandparents and great-grandparents, as apparently Charlus and Dorea Potter had been good friends of theirs, and during several visits to Charlus' home they'd met Fleamont and Euphemia. It had left Ophelia with quite the sense of hope and anticipation in her chest, having the opportunity to learn about her family.
Boom!
Her turn. Ophelia made a brisk run into the maze.
Immediately after entering, the cheers of the crowd vanished and she noticed an Observation Snitch flitting about a few feet above her head. Made sense.
She didn't waste time, whispering chants in Vietnamese under her tongue to allow the runes to appear and affix themselves to her skin. Such was the benefit of Ancient Vietnamese Runes - they didn't require a wand to be applied, just proper usage of magic. A feat proven and expounded upon by the famed Trưng Sisters - not that there was any proven blood relation, but regardless. As the runes affixed themselves, she felt her resistances to magic attacks and such rise, not to mention her general strength and dexterity. Her gait smoothed out as she continued to run… and swiftly encountered her first obstacle. A triad of Living Armours. As she recalled, the blood red metal denoted them as having high magical resistance due to the fact that the metal was backed by…
"Dragonhide… Dragoon Armours," she grumbled, flicking her wand and causing a wall of stone to interrupt the swing of the first's steel sword. That at least was the best metal they'd be getting, since Kobold-Forged Steel was impossible to get without paying a far heftier price than any Tournament Organizer would agree to.
Ophelia flicked her wand and the stone wall erupted with long, thin spikes. They didn't pierce the armour but they sent it sprawling over one of its fellows while the third skirted the wall and thrusted his blade towards Ophelia. Coating her hand with magic, she brought it down and shattered the steel with a chopping motion. The armour startled and that was enough for her to loose an overpowered blasting hex that sent its helm flying, causing the remainder of the armour to clatter to the ground as the source of its animation was sent off. She fired another blasting hex at the airborne helmet - this one modified with a mental arithmantic calculation - and it burst into smithereens, turning into several hunks of scorched-black metal and charred leather.
The other two armours were up, but Ophelia used a Puppeteering Jinx to make the 'dead' armour rise and wrestle its fellows' blades away, leaving them struggling while she simply blasted one's helm into the other's, promptly demolishing the pair of rolling helms while their metallic bodies clattered to the ground in a heap.
One obstacle down. Who knows how many left?
She continued making her way, deftly skirting the various pieces of armour, and soon found herself winding through several paths, agitated as she realized the hedges were shifting. She didn't bother trying to burn them down or jump over them, not wanting to deal with the hassle or potential risks. Instead she kept trying to make her way…
And then suddenly everything was upside-down and she froze. No… this wasn't right. How could she be upside down? She'd have to fall into the sky, right? That couldn't be… ah. Was she Confunded? Or was it some sort of disorientation hex? Regardless, the slightly lilac-tinted fog was a hint. She ran through a list of airborne potions in her head, and one came to mind that Mahalu mentioned. An Argentinian creation. It caused those who inhaled it to have their perception of gravity inverted. Nasty stuff, but easily cured if you knew the trick - and Ophelia did, naturally.
"Pulmonis purifica," she whispered, and with a sudden sort of whiplash feeling, she was reoriented. She didn't breathe in and pointed her wand up and turned it in a circle. "Emundaris aeris," she forced out, and the lilac fog vanished. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Nasty stuff," she muttered, gently shaking her body and letting her limbs relax. She made her way forward much more cautiously now - it had only been the runes meant to enhance her grace and balance that prevented her from falling over when her senses were messed with like that.
She listened closely, knowing all of her senses would be important here, and kept a tight hold on her wand. With the runes she had on, she could wrestle a troll and win, but having her wand gave her more options. She would probably be taking Mahalu's suggestion - soon - about getting a second, though. Losing her wand would be a huge risk.
Due to a lack of exposed skin, she decided to aim her wand at herself and just mutter enhancement spells. They would only last a certain period of time, unlike the runes that would last until she removed them herself, but more defenses was better than nothing. Besides, the way Mahalu put it, Ophelia had magical energy to spare and the cost would be negligible at best. Minerv– McGonagall felt the same.
Merlin, but remembering to use the Professor's last name when she insisted on her first in the private Transfiguration and Combat Transfiguration lessons wasn't easy.
She was shaken out of her thoughts by a scream and made a break for it, following the sound that was very much Fleur's voice. It didn't take long to find the source.
The witch in question was holding her bleeding arm and shakily holding her wand up against… Krum. He had a nasty, angry look on his face and seemed totally unaware of Ophelia's presence.
She didn't want to risk hurting Fleur and summoned her while simultaneously erecting a stone wall just in time to hear Krum shout a curse. "Crucio!" The wall shuddered, but held. Ophelia's eyes widened and she glanced at Fleur, who whimpered and gasped in pain.
"Did he…?" She asked softly, and Fleur nodded, tears in her eyes. Ophelia straightened. "Right then," she muttered, holding her wand out. She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly before flicking and twirling her wand.
The stone transfigured into a giant hand and lashed out to grab Krum, who just barely destroyed it with a blasting hex. Ophelia moved her wand in a zigzag and the flying debris transformed into a swarm of hummingbirds - why was it always hummingbirds? - that shot out towards Krum and pecked at him. He waved his arms about wildly before shouting a curse that left the menacing birds little more than puffs of feathers.
Of course, those seconds weren't spent idly by Ophelia. She'd transfigured the ground into ice and flung a Stunner that Krum barely caught with a shield, gasping as he glared angrily at her. She caught his eyes and frowned. They were hazy and unfocused. That didn't strike her as the expression of a man in a duel.
He took a step forwards, seeming to totally miss the ice's presence, and promptly slipped and fell due to the subtle charm she'd added to make it especially slippery. Ophelia shook her head and cast a powerful slumbering jinx at him and within seconds he began to snore while she absently dispelled the ice and turned back to Fleur.
"How's your arm?" She asked gently, crouching down and gesturing for Fleur to pull away. The French witch complied, revealing a deep bloody gash, but it was a clean cut - and nothing dark. A couple spells had her right as rain, but still shaking badly.
"It… merde, I have never felt pain so… awful," Fleur whispered, before frowning. "Non… I have. It…"
"Feels like every pain you've suffered in life all at once… magnified," Ophelia murmured softly. Fleur shot her an alarmed look and Ophelia gave her a sad smile in turn. "I've had experience, yeah. It's Hell, for sure," she admitted before she sighed and cleaned them both of Fleur's blood before standing and holding her hand out. "Can you stand?"
Fleur accepted her hand and made herself stand, though her legs shook badly. "I… ouais, I can stand. Is… is he alright? Something felt so…"
"He may have been Confunded… or Imperiused," Ophelia murmured, beginning to skirt around Krum's sleeping body while Fleur gingerly followed, an alliance formed. Absently, Ophelia shot up red sparks so he'd be retrieved. "Which means either Cedric's nastier than I ever expected, or someone else is in the Maze…"
Fleur tensed as she followed Ophelia, slowly seeming to regain her drive and composure, if not her likely-wounded dignity. "Is it truly possible?"
Ophelia grimaced. "We never discovered who put my name in the Goblet, Karkaroff is missing and also a former Death Eater, and my life always seems to go to shit around Samhain and Litha. I've sort of gotten accustomed to this type of thing," she replied dryly, not loosening her grip on her wand. "Stay close. When we find Cedric, cover my back while I handle him - if he's a threat. If not then we're in a lot of danger."
"I am starting to think I would very much not like to be you," Fleur grumbled, earning a bark of laughter as they took a turn. She sucked in a breath at the sight of an Acromantula, but during that breath Ophelia launched a levitation charm that caused it to rise several feet before three of her Stunners hit it on its unprotected belly and it stopped struggling while she lowered it to the ground, not even twitching. Fleur gaped before she shook her head. "I am also starting to think I should not have bothered with this Tournament, if you are this powerful," she grumbled further, earning a snort this time.
"I've been told I'm a bit out of the norm, I'll admit," Ophelia replied candidly as they continued in relative silence, both listening closely for any sign of a threat. "Why join to begin with? The Delacours are world-famous for their cosmetics. That should be more than enough to give you the capital needed to make your own platform. Everyone knows what a powerful duellist you are."
Fleur sighed. "You can thank Madame Maxime for that," she admitted as they rounded a corner, swiftly casting a shield charm to protect them from an oncoming boulder. As it fell, Ophelia saw the responsible party - an Oread. A Mountain Nymph. She loosed a blasting hex that barely made it stumble before using the opening to transfigure the ground into muskeg, causing the Oread to rapidly sink before Ophelia returned it to normal, leaving it encased in regular old dirt. Due to it not being stone, that left the grey-skinned nymph helpless as she then struck it with an overpowered slumbering jinx.
"You were saying?" Ophelia said offhandedly as she continued, a muttering Fleur behind her.
"I was saying that Madame Maxime basically conscripted me," she groused. "Demanded I participate for the sake of school honour, and because I had such a name for myself that it would elevate Beauxbatons." She gave an inelegant snort and shook her head. "It is merely a school. The TriWix is merely a Tournament. There has been correlation to success in the past, but it is not the only way to succeed, as Lady Xochitecatl of El Dorado proves."
Ophelia smirked, "I'm in complete agreement. When we're out of here, I'll introduce you. She's my mentor."
"Truly?!" Fleur asked, incredulous.
Ophelia shrugged. "Remember that weird thing after the Second Task where stuff looked dark and nobody could move or talk?" Fleur nodded slowly. "It was my aura. Mahalu's been helping me learn how to use it, and teaching me more magic in general besides. I've learned loads with her."
Fleur grumbled some more while Ophelia grinned. The French witch really was quite funny - especially since Ophelia was growing more aware of her abilities and how out of the ordinary they were.
Though her amusement was cut short at the appearance of Cedric… who shot a volley of low-level jinxes that Fleur blocked with a shielding charm. Ophelia saw his eyes - clouded and dazed. So whoever had gotten Krum had made Cedric their victim as well.
She wasted no time launching a stunner so powerful it shattered the conjured shield and knocked Cedric down. She left up some red sparks and glanced back at Fleur. "Stay close. I dunno how long it'll be til' we get to the end, and I'd rather not have to knock you out as well."
Fleur didn't object as they made their way through the maze once again.
~~~~~Ophelia~~~~~
Ophelia grimaced as she entered the clearing with the Cup. That had not gone well.
Fleur had been stunned by some random jinx, and for some reason the counterjinxes Ophelia could think of didn't work. It must've been a blight, which would've taken too long to solve. She had Fleur retrieved with some red sparks and stayed on-guard. Something was out there and trying to isolate Ophelia, which was not good.
She adjusted her hold on her wand, sighing. The Sphinx had been simple, at least - as had the Lethifold, another pack of Dragoon Armours, the Direwolf, and the rampaging Ursine Minora. Why the Ministry decided that Celestial Bears were safe to include was beyond Ophelia. Even Greece had the decency to label them Quintuple-X, and they bred Kerberi for fun!
Admittedly, she was beginning to wonder if wixen as a whole just had a few screws loose, considering what Mahalu and Minerva considered 'light' training. Did magic cause one's sanity to go a bit wonky? It wouldn't surprise her…
She eyed the Cup cautiously. Watching its blue glow, she recalled Bagman's words. 'The Cup is a Portkey. It'll bring you right on back to the entrance in a jiffy! Nice and easy way to determine a winner, eh?'
A Portkey. Well, there were worse ideas.
She stepped a bit closer, slowly walking around it with her wand drawn and her hackles risen. She didn't feel right. Something was off. She didn't like this one bit. Someone was… plotting something. What? She had no clue, but now she was the last competitor, right by the Cup. So where was the mastermind? Why wasn't he trying to hurt her?
Unless…
"I was supposed to win," she whispered as realization struck. Then she heard a shouted Summoning charm and the Cup struck her in the head, knocking her unconscious and Porting her out at the same exact moment.
~~~~~Ophelia~~~~~
She woke with a groggy grown and a slight desire to gag. No wonder, there was some kind of fabric ball stuffed in her mouth. Painful, to say the least. Her wand… well, it was still in her hand. Thank Merlin for hyper-powered sticking charms. But the hand was held firmly in place by… a statue? Then again so was the rest of her body. Stone arms held her so tightly that even the slightest jostling was impossible. Her runes had been removed, then - normally stone would be effortless to shatter. Plus there was the slight ache in her arm from the old Basilisk bite that told her the pain relief rune she'd tossed on had been stripped. She doubted the rest remained.
Oh well, at least they'd left her clothes on. Small mercies.
…Mahalu's mindset was rubbing off on her far too much.
She looked up and saw… someone. A man with salt-and-pepper hair and a bit of a twitchy look about him, holding some bundle of black fabrics in front of one of the largest cauldrons she'd ever seen that bubbled with an oddly… odorless liquid. What potion existed that was genuinely odorless? She couldn't think of one, which meant it was probably very illegal.
Lovely.
She watched as the man grinned at her in a very unsettling way before dropping the bundle of fabrics into the potion. Okay…?
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son," the man intoned, lifting what looked like a rather old and dusty femur bone - too much time with Phoebe if she could actually identify that, curse her friend's obsession with the human body. He dropped it into the potion which began to bubble violently.
Yeah, that wasn't ominous at all.
He raised his arm and Ophelia shut her eyes as she realized what was about to happen. "Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master," he proclaimed before giving a shouting gasp of pain followed by the audible sound of something falling into liquid. After a moment, Ophelia opened her eyes.
The man had a pained grimace on his face as he conjured bandages for his severed stump that used to be his left hand and then approached Ophelia, expression twisting into a feral grimace. She fought and strained to pull away, but it was no use. She couldn't budge. The man's grin became crueller as he grabbed the sleeve of her restrained right arm - her off-arm, at least - and yanked both the jumper and blouse sleeves down, raising a knife to her skin.
She screamed against the gag as he dragged it painfully across her skin. Far more painfully than it should have been. Blood Magic. Possibly Blood Alchemy, considering the potion. Fuck. This was bad. Ophelia was starting to get a horrible idea of what was inside the cauldron.
The man collected her blood in a vial and then healed her wound, leaving a dark red scar. Yep. Blood magic. He didn't bother pulling her sleeves back up, instead returning to the cauldron and pouring in the liquid.
"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!" He declared as the potion became a roiling, blood-red concoction.
Ophelia scowled against her gag as she saw the liquid wick away and meld into a visibly sexless body that rapidly became masculine, including a full head of jet black hair, strong and sharp features, and when he opened them… blood red eyes.
Voldemort.
Ophelia narrowed her gaze, watching him closely. He demanded a robe and one was conjured and granted, and then he looked at Ophelia curiously, striding forwards and almost absently vanishing the gag. "My apologies, Harry Potter - that can't have been very pleasant. But I'm afraid having you interrupt my ritual would have been problematic," he said silkily, the disturbing charisma in his tone actually making him come off as apologetic.
Mahalu was right. Voldemort was one crafty son of a bitch.
"Mind calling me Ophelia?" She asked resignedly. The bastard was back, no point in spewing curses. Besides, as Mahalu put it, when dealing with powerful wixen it was best to be casual but respectful - it was the best way to earn some respect in turn. "If it isn't obvious, I'm not exactly a boy."
Voldemort's lips quirked into a smile. "Quite," he agreed, his red eyes glittering. "I see you've changed quite a bit since last we met. You aren't the quivering… girl? That I met in your first year. You've become… stronger. Admirable, and impressive."
Ophelia grimaced. "Tends to happen when you get stuck between a rock and a hard place. Grow up or give up," she grumbled before sighing. "I can only assume we're going to have some sort of duel or another so you can kill me once and for all? And I'm assuming you'll be calling the Death Eaters?"
Voldemort laughed. Laughed! He shook his head and stepped back, obviously pleased. "You've exceeded expectations, Ophelia Potter. I must say, well done. Clearly you're not the fool Severus painted you out to be. But no, you're not wrong. Barty."
The man, who had been confused up until then, stepped forwards and kneeled, offering his arm that still had a hand attached. Voldemort pressed his wand against it and the man grimaced in pain before a smile graced his lips. "Barty… as in Barty… Crouch?" Ophelia muttered, before something clicked. "Someone replaced you in Azkaban. You're Barty Senior's son."
The man grinned and Voldemort did as well. Oh great. Now two psychopathic murderers were impressed with her. Talk about glowing recommendations.
She wanted to vomit, but instead focused on the various cracking and popping noises as a number of individuals in the same garb she'd seen at the World Cup appeared. Silver masks and all.
Death Eaters. A dozen of them, just about.
Voldemort looked among them, and she could see the disinterest and disappointment in his eyes. "So… this is all that remains? So few of you… and yet, so many," he commented, idly pacing as he studied his bone-white wand. Where the hell did he pull that from? "You all claimed to be manipulated… such a lack of pride. Of devotion. I am… disappointed, I must confess."
Ophelia realized he was being theatrical on purpose and fought to suppress a laugh. Okay, yeah. Maybe magic diddrive you insane. And clearly both she and Voldemort were affected, if he was a drama queen and she was amused by his antics.
"Master," a familiar voice murmured as he dispelled his mask and knelt. Lucius Malfoy. "Master, I apologize. I sought you out, I truly did. But I could not find you. I found no traces."
Voldemort scoffed. "Clearly you did not try, Lucius. Barty here found me within mere weeks of fleeing his father's private incarceration. You have had thirteen years… and from what I hear, you risked that oh so important item I entrusted you with. And it was destroyed!" He promptly aimed his wand at Lucius, and Ophelia felt her stomach turn even as he hissed the incantation. "Crucio!"
Lucius' screams were deafening and Ophelia cringed as hard as she could under the painfully tight restraints. She couldn't imagine how bad that had to be. Draco, for all his faults, had been treated like shit by his father for being trans, so to a degree she felt vindictively pleased that the bastard was getting his just desserts.
Yet all the same, with what she knew of the Cruciatus… what she'd felt… that wasn't something you wished on anything but the most soulless, most cruel of individuals.
Sort of like Voldemort.
After several moments, Voldemort released him and began questioning his Death Eaters one by one.
MacNair, Avery, Goyle Sr., and Crabbe Sr. all suffered the Cruciatus. Each had the most awful screams, and Ophelia was pretty sure they'd haunt her nightmares for… a while. She hoped he wouldn't turn that on her. Once at the hands of Pettigrew was too many times for her lifetime.
She paid close attention when he addressed 'Nott', however.
"Ah… Nott," Voldemort hissed, looking the man that only slightly resembled Azalea up and down with disdain. "I hear you have a son that turned on you. A pity, though with your incompetence, perhaps unsurprising?"
She couldn't help herself. "Daughter, actually," she piped up, causing Voldemort and several others to look at her curiously. "His disowned daughter is trans, like me. A friend of mine, actually."
Voldemort smirked a bit. "Ah, of course. I forgot to introduce my guest of honour. The reason I could be resurrected this night! Everyone… welcome Ophelia Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived, and TriWixen Champion." He looked thoughtfully between Nott and Ophelia, before arching a thin eyebrow. "It would appear she keeps good company, as well. Being so foolish as to reject your own blood because they choose a new name… yet I have chosen a new name, myself. Voldemort was hardly the name I was given at birth. How petty of you, Nott…" He didn't bother with the Cruciatus and simply blasted him into a tombstone, causing Nott to groan in pain before crumpling and remaining unconscious.
A decision Ophelia could admittedly get behind.
"Some of you may wonder how a mere babe was able to best me, all those years ago…" Voldemort then sneered, "Clearly, those of you are fools. It was almost assuredly the work of James and Lily Potter that protected her. No doubt through some powerful ritual. One that empowered her and protected her from myself. I could not even lay a hand on her three years ago… but now…" He took several steps closer to Ophelia, and idly traced a finger across the bare skin of her arm. "I have no such difficulties." He gave her a cruel grin and turned away, though Ophelia couldn't help wondering…
Why didn't it hurt her? She'd been in agonizing pain when he was possessing Quirrell and trying to strangle her. What changed? Was it because the scar on her forehead never hurt again after the end of second year?
Those questions and more raced through her mind as she prepared for what she knew was soon to come.
"Regardless… Ophelia Potter has proven her own talents many times over. This year being a prime example. She displayed her intellect with the First Task, avoiding the battle with a dragon altogether with her knowledge," he began, pacing as he looked almost… impressed. "She saved her hostage in record time during the Second Task, even developing an aura in the aftermath!"
A flurry of whispers broke out as the Death Eaters looked at her, those whose masks had been removed taking on calculating expressions. Ophelia held back a grimace. Considering her suspicions had now come to make her believe that Barty Junior was disguised as Moody the whole time - which would explain the behaviors - it made sense that Voldemort was acutely aware of most things. She wondered if Barty's transphobia was why Voldemort hadn't known her preferred name? How shitty.
…Merlin, but she really needed to focus on the more immediate matters.
"And now, the Third and Final Task. Triumphant! With no true interference from Barty. All he did was ensure the other Champions actively tried to impede her, and they failed spectacularly due to her show of abilities. She even had runes applied! We of course removed them, but young Ophelia's talents clearly exceed all potential expectations." He turned to Ophelia with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Truly, I am impressed, Ophelia Potter. You have proven yourself worthy of the claims others make of you besting me. Yes… I consider you… having the potential to be a true equal of mine. Far more than the old goat who has tried to interfere so much in your life… I am sure you know who I mean?"
Ophelia grimaced. She certainly did. "Albus Dumbledore," she muttered hollowly. "'Interfere' is putting it a bit lightly, honestly."
Voldemort nodded almost sympathetically. "Something I understand far too well… which brings me to a question, young Ophelia. An offer. You see… it would be a waste to duel and kill you tonight. A waste of your talents and abilities…" His eyes glittered again with wicked malice and… calculative glee. "Join me, Ophelia Potter! Join me and we can rid the world of your opponents and enemies together. I would even spare your little friends, it would hardly be a bother. So… what do you say?"
Ophelia gave a wry smile. "I think you know me better than that, Voldemort. Though I appreciate the offer and the respect," she replied before giving out a small sigh. "Don't suppose you'll just let me go free anyways?"
Voldemort gave a wry smile of his own. He waved his wand and the statue released her, but he kept the stick trained on her regardless. "I think you know me better than that, Ophelia. Though I appreciate your respectful declination," he replied, mimicking her response. He tilted his head a bit while she grimaced and stretched a bit, brushing herself off. "But for this duel, and whatever comes after… I shall grant you the honor of calling me by my name. I am Tomas Gaunt, and I challenge you to a duel, Ophelia Potter."
Ophelia sighed, straightening and adjusting her grip on her wand, loosening her fingers up a bit.
"I accept your duel, Tomas Gaunt. May the best wix win."
Notes:👀
Voldemort is back, baby.
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Next Chapter: Ophelia vs Tomas