Chapter 31: Assembly of ShadowsNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextMahalu annoys people. A lot. But especially Allegrata.
CW: Child Abuse Mention, Graphic Depiction of Violence, Death
~~~~~ Mahalu Xochitecatl ~~~~~
Assembly of Shadows
~~~~~ Mahalu Xochitecatl ~~~~~
July 10th, 1995
I see you're in Europe. Fuck you.
I'm coming to see Minerva later today. 1930 by that timezone. Be there. I'm bringing the others. You know who I mean. Make sure that piece of shit Tom is there.
Allegrata Lombardi
Mahalu incinerated the letter while asking herself why all Dark Lords and Ladies had to be eccentric nutcases. Yeah, herself included! No sane witch decides to take a Baobhan Sith as their lover - especially not one as powerful as Minerva. The woman's public façade was the single most meticulously crafted false identity she'd ever seen. Mahalu had to be out of her mind to think it was a swell idea to fall in love with her.
Then again, some days she doubted her mind was intact to begin with. Days like today.
She gave her outfit a cursory glance. Black slacks, black flats, a blouse, a black vest, and a red tie. Mundane enough, she supposed. Not that it necessarily mattered, it wasn't as if a 'freakishly tall' woman appearing on the doorstep of a 'perfectly normal' house in suburbia would be something these people reacted well to.
She was kind of hoping for it.
Mahalu knocked on the door boredly as she mentally tallied who all would be present at the evening's event. She knew Kradets of the Balkans had been usurped, but had no clue who'd replaced him. Whoever it was, they were good at keeping their identity protected even from the intel gatherers of a Dark Liege. No doubt Allegrata herself would be there, and neither Knoch nor Reysino would pass up a chance to annoy her. Brynhildr would probably show up too, if only because she still had a crush on Minerva.
Idly, she wondered if Mykola was still alive. He was getting up there in years now, and he'd never bothered making a Horcrux unlike his younger peers. Not that he needed it. Even Mahalu didn't fancy her chances against him if she didn't have her full equipment.
Her earrings tingled and she couldn't help the amused twitch of her lips. Albus had finally become aware of her presence. Good thing she'd placed some wards around the property so she could do her job.
When the horse-faced woman with black hair opened the door, Mahalu gave her a condescending smile and stuck her foot in the door. "Dursley, right?" She said coolly, stepping inside and pushing the trembling woman back inside with a single hand. "Gotta say, Ophelia's pretty merciful, letting a worthless mundane like you keep breathing after daring to raise your hand against her."
The woman stared at her in obvious fear. "Who are you? Y-you're one of them, aren't you?" She asked. It took only the most cursory of glances into her mind to know she meant wixen.
"Yes, I am," Mahalu replied, continuing to walk into the house. The woman - Petunia - cowered as she backed away, stumbling over furniture as she continued to shake and tremble.
"Pet? What's going– Hey! Get out of my house!" A fat man shouted as he took a step towards Mahalu. He was brave - or perhaps just stupid - considering he raised a hand to swing. Mahalu easily caught it and squeezed. He screamed as the bones in his hand broke under her grip.
"Oops," she said with thick sarcasm dripping from her voice. She rolled her eyes while the man whimpered, cradling his purpling hand close as the fear finally showed in his eyes. "I'd say I don't know my own strength, but I do. It's just that you mundanes are so pathetic compared to a wix like myself," she explained, absently waving a hand and causing the adults to be flung onto their couch. She glanced behind her at the stairs - there was a fat boy cowering.
She peered into his mind, casually searching for his memories. He treated Ophelia cruelly, to be sure - but he was also a product of his parents' evil. She debated for a moment what to do with him before making a decision. Mahalu pointed to the door. "Leave. You're going to be an orphan after today. Find anywhere else to be, boy. Don't bother calling the police - they can't stop this. Nobody on this planet can," she told him in an authoritative tone.
He looked between her and his parents, fear visible as he trembled. He placed a hand on the wall as tears fell down his face. "...Is this because we hurt Harry?" He asked softly, his complexion turning pale and green.
"Her name's Ophelia now, but yes," Mahalu replied.
The boy looked heartbroken before glancing at his terrified - and silenced - parents one last time. Then he looked at Mahalu. "...Tell her I'm sorry," he said with a choked sob before he stumbled away, tears glistening on his face.
She would have felt bad if she hadn't seen his memories of stomping on Ophelia's leg and kicking her stomach while she was on the ground and begging for mercy.
Mahlu returned her attention to the adults. "I showed your boy mercy because I don't care for killing children," she told them, sitting in a recliner and leaning forwards, resting her arms on her knees. "However I bear no such compunctions towards child abusing adults." She snapped her fingers to dispel the silencing, curious to hear what they'd say.
The man was silent for a moment regardless, his gaze full of both fear and anger. "...We tried to stomp this evil out of that boy," he told her, an odd resignation mixed with the fury and pain that colored his voice. "I'm sure he'll turn out just as rotten as the rest of you. Strange and off, toying with us 'muggles' like we aren't human. The only way to be good is to not have this power that makes you think you're a God."
Mahalu laughed darkly, amused. "Huh, so the bastard actually has a tongue on him, imagine that," she commented, surprised he hadn't resorted to fury. "But you're mistaken, Dursley. I'm no god. I serve the gods. The Aztec gods. My name is Mahalu Xochitecatl. I'm sure that means nothing to you, but in the world of magic I am the Queen of El Dorado, a magical settlement deep in the heart of Brazil. I am incredibly powerful, and you're not wrong, I don't view you as human. But only specifically you two. You hurt a child, Dursley," she told him dryly, though there was an edge to her voice that made him flinch. "You beat, starved, and worked her like a slave. You think we treat you as subhuman? Try looking in the mirror after you get to hell, why don't you?"
Petunia's expression was one of horror. "You… you truly mean to kill us? But even their laws would surely–"
Mahalu interrupted her with dark, cruel laughter. "Laws?"She asked incredulously before cackling. "Oh, that's rich.You two must be complete idiots. Magical laws offer very little protections to mundanes, and even if they somehowmanaged to find out it was me, there isn't a soul alive that would bother trying to arrest me. It would cripple the Auror force of whatever country tried," she told them matter-of-factly, a smug grin on her face. "As I said, I'm powerful. As of this very moment, Albus Dumbledore is actively trying and failing to take down wards I cast to keep him off of this property. He wants to save you both because he wants to eventually bring Ophelia back here so she can be his puppet after you abuse her and break her soul. I'm not letting that happen."
Mahalu stood up, brushing herself off. "Besides all that, think of it like this. Ophelia became my student several months ago - my disciple. I've had those but sparingly across my many years of life, and consider them rather dear. You hurt her, and I tend to take pleasure in making sure those who hurt my disciples understand the gravity of such an action," she told them, not even bothering to draw her wand as she prepared her magic.
"Wait!" The man cried, sounding desperate. "But- we didn't even lay a hand on her after you started teaching her! We haven't had the chance! It was all before!"
"So?" Mahalu asked with a cruel smirk. She walked over and silenced them both before wrapping her hand around Petunia's neck and squeezing, a charm placed on her hand to make it burn. The woman's mouth opened in a soundless scream as Mahalu's hand closed tighter and tighter while the man sobbed as he watched his wife die in agony. "It doesn't mean that's an excuse not to kill you."
As she pressed her other hand against his chest, she saw the fear in the man's eyes just before his own mouth opened wide in his dying screams that would never be heard.
~~~~~ Mahalu Xochitecatl ~~~~~
After she incinerated and vanished the corpses, Mahalu decided to leave the house in place - after incinerating the cupboard under the stairs and the smallest bedroom upstairs. No sign of Ophelia ever living in this house needed to exist, in her opinion.
Once she was outside, she smirked at Albus, walking up to the edge of the wards as she looked down at his furious expression. "What's wrong, Albus? You look like someone killed your pet," she teased, a cruel smile on her face as her wand slipped out of her sleeve and into her hand. "Can't break through my ward, can you? Pathetic."
Albus' eyes blazed and she deflected his admittedly impressive Legilimency probe with only a little difficulty. Weak as he may be, the old fool unfortunately did at least carry a good deal of actual skill. "You murdered them in cold blood. I knew you were no good. You're an irredeemable monster, Mahalu," Albus hissed, his grip on the Elder Wand so tight she was surprised neither it nor his weathered fingers snapped.
"Tough shit, Albus. Mundanes die. Child-abusingmundanes at least deserve it," she replied sharply, raising her wand and dismantling the ward as she walked past him. "And don't feed me any shit about them being 'redeemable' or 'family'. I checked their minds. They were proud of their actions up until I was killing them," she cut him off, not interested in hearing his platitudes about believing the best in people.
'Well,' her mind snarked. 'Only as long as they don't practice Dark Magic.'
If he ever found out about Minerva's horcrux, Mahalu would pay to see his expression. Stupid fool probably didn't even know she was fey.
She felt his first flurry of spells bounce harmlessly off her personal wards. A test to see what she had up, of course.
Mahalu half-turned, her cruel grin returning. "Don't threaten me with a good time, Albus. I'd take great pleasure in murdering you, but there are others that deserve their chance first," she warned him, eyes flicking to the three long scars on his face that had come courtesy of Ophelia's girlfriend.
Albus' eyes flashed dangerously. "You've killed innocents, Mahalu. I'm afraid I must take you in to the Ministry," he told her with a tone that sounded grave, but she saw the glitter of malice and anger in his eyes. He didn't like people dying because it took pawns off of his chessboard and made it harder for him to 'plan'.
Senile, manipulative fool.
Mahalu jabbed her wand towards him and a splotchy red blood boiling curse shot out, a simple twist of her wand causing it to duplicate. Albus blocked it with a hasty shield that held but cracked under the force of her spells. She twirled and thrust, firing a lance of lightning that shattered the shield, though he erected a barrier of stone in time.
This idiot was lucky she'd cast a slumbering charm on the neighborhood, or he'd have ruined the Statute with that. At least basic hexes and curses could be passed off as a light show with the help of a mild confounding jinx.
She blocked his blue curse and stunner by swatting them aside with her rune-laden hand, raising her wand upwards and causing his own barrier of stone to turn to dust so she could fire a couple dark pink curses at him that would destroy his eyes and legs. Unfortunately his age hadn't hindered his reflexes enough and he crafted another shield, though while he wasn't struck by her spells, it did shatter under their combined force.
If she were a weaker duellist, he'd probably have the upper hand by now. Too bad Albus was horrible at handling a wix that had enough raw magical energy to just overpower him, the fool.
She cast a slicing hex but he blocked it by casting the counterhex, causing both to fizzle away. Albus was somehow swifter in making use of the ambient magic it left and coalesced it into a polar bear he conjured, though Mahalu just grabbed the beast by its neck and crushed its windpipe before tossing the carcass aside. Thoroughly annoyed, she fired a blasting hex that shattered another of Albus' shields and sent him tumbling while she effortlessly vanished the dead bear.
"Are you done yet?" She asked, agitated now. She needed to be at Minerva's in an hour, and she really didn't care to toy around with Albus.
His response was to fire an array of disarming jinxes, cutting hexes, and other spells. Mahalu let them splash against her wards, all falling away easily except for a blue hex she recognized. She used her wandtip to catch it and fling it to the ground, letting the blast of electricity it generated dissipate harmlessly.
She blocked a conjured volley of knives with a conjured greatshield and then transfigured the lot, combining the mass and banishing the cannonball it created towards Albus. He turned it into a swarm of butterflies before it could hit him - barely in the nick of time - before vanishing those and creating a whip of flame that he swung at Mahalu. She caught that with her bare hand, laughing darkly.
"Did you forget my moniker, Albus?" She asked in a mocking tone. "'Huītzilōpōchtli. God of the sun, you idiot. Fire isn't going to hurt me," she told him, harshly flinging the whip back at him before she conjured a dark blue fireball of her own. "And if you're going to use fire, do it right."
He barely brought up a shield in time, but all it did was stop him from being scorched. It did nothing to mitigate the explosion that sent him flying and tumbling down the street, groaning as his gaudy robes became tattered while his beard and hair became a mess. To his credit, Albus rolled onto one knee, holding his wand out before him warily with a tight expression.
Mahalu absently cast restoration magic on the street and various vehicles that had been destroyed by their duel, walking slowly and with purpose towards Albus. He loosed a volley of spells again that she wordlessly and wandlessly blocked with a shield, dispelling it when the last of them bounced harmlessly off of it.
"Stand down, Albus," Mahalu told him as she leveled her wand at him. "You're not strong enough to take me on. I've not got the time nor the patience to deal with you," she hissed, letting her eyes morph via a partial animaga transformation. The eyes of the reticulated python were mostly for an intimidation factor, which paid off as she saw Albus stiffen while her eyes turned human once more.
"You'll never get away with this," he spat, slowly rising to his feet as he took in heavy, tired breaths. "You will pay for your crimes and evils, Mahalu. Mark my words." All the same, he slipped his wand away, though the fury never left his eyes.
"Consider them marked, Albus. Though I highly doubt the gods or anyone else will care that I killed those people," she replied blithely before turning and vanishing with an audible crack.
~~~~~ Mahalu Xochitecatl ~~~~~
"How long has it been since the European Dark Lieges all met?" Tom asked boredly as he adjusted his robes. He was wearing something simple yet classy, casting a curious glance to Minerva.
"About seven years," Minerva replied, putting on the non-glamouring spectacles she used in official meetings like this. "We gave the girl who usurped Kradets a bit of time before properly inviting her. We wanted to make sure her rule would be stable before bothering. She's managed well enough," she explained while coaxing her hair into an intricate braided bun.
For her part, Mahalu had simply remained in the suit she'd worn earlier in the day, spelling away the dust from her earlier duel but doing little more. It was formal enough for a guest, though her golden earrings had been swapped for ones made of cobalt and topaz while she'd carefully styled her red and black curls. "A girl? So she's young?" Mahalu asked curiously as she finished adjusting her tie while the trio walked into the meeting hall.
"Quite," Minerva agreed. "Vasilka is talented, though. I'd put her growth rate close to par with Ophelia's, perhaps a tad behind. She's twenty-four," she explained while waving her hand and causing a tea set to appear.
"So she usurped Kradets when she was only seventeen?" Tom asked, obviously impressed. Mahalu was of a similar opinion, as Kradets had been fairly strong.
"Fifteen," Minerva corrected. She smirked at their gaping expressions. "What? I told you we gave her time to settle her rule. It was a year and a half before we invited Vasilka to the table. If I'm being honest, I fully expect Ophelia to be joining us before she turns seventeen, herself. Whether she kills you or not, Tom, she's got the power to spare."
Mahalu and Tom traded a look, and while she loathed the man, she knew they were both feeling a bit like they'd been outshone. At least Mahalu had the security of El Dorado to fall back on.
And the knowledge that the overall magical power of the world tended to fluctuate. There had been periods in the past where wixen existed that far surpassed those of today, and periods where even the strongest wix wouldn't hold a candle to Albus of all people. Magic was in a constant state of flux. It seemed that it was just presently waxing rather than waning. Mahalu felt a bit more reassured after reminding herself of that.
But only a bit.
The first pop of apparition sounded, and it didn't surprise Mahalu in the least to see a rather irate Allegrata glaring at the trio. She had on very basic robes with a dark green scarf wrapped about her shoulders, her severe features marred by only a handful of scars on her face while her jet black hair had been drawn into a long plait.
"You!" She said accusatorily, jabbing a finger at Tom. "You absolute idiot, Gaunt! What were you thinking, hmm? Letting a seer's prophecy get the better of you? Are you seriously that much of an absolute idiot?!" She hissed, stepping forwards and snarling at the man. "You didn't even hear the full thing! Gods I fucking hate you."
"Good to see you, too," Tom replied sarcastically. "And in my defense, Allegrata, Snape thought the Trelawney woman was an oracle, not a seer. At the time I was desperate because Albus was doing nothing to rid me of the purists, and I wasn't exactly keen on being 'vanquished'."
Allegrata huffed and made an annoyed sound to show how little she cared about his excuse. Then she glared at Mahalu. "I hate you," she said with a scowl.
Mahalu grinned. "Love you too, Allegrata," she snarked. "Don't worry, I'm not encroaching on territories. I'm mostly here to seduce my lover and train our mutual disciple."
Allegrata rolled her eyes. "Ah, sì, your disciple. The very witch known as the 'Girl-Who-Lived'," she replied, rolling her eyes at the moniker. "As if surviving the Killing Curse is such a big deal. Idioti, I swear— and you had better be doing something to fix the messes that capra has made for her!" She added, jabbing a finger at Tom again.
He raised his hands in surrender. "I'm trying, I promise. I already killed Severus - well, Mahalu did anyway," he amended. "But I was going to. Destroyed his mind and everything. I also have plans to free her mothers from Azkaban. I'm going to disguise it as freeing my followers in general - mostly because I need to do that if I'm going to get them all killed."
The next crack of apparition came with the arrival of Brynhildr and Mykola Harkusha, the Dark Lady of the Nordic Region and the Dark Lord of the Wixen Slavic States of Europe, respectively.
"Mahalu," Mykola greeted her warmly, not a hint of an accent to be seen. His age clearly had given him time aplenty to perfect sounding 'natural' when speaking foreign languages. "It's good to see you, my dear," he greeted her, shaking her hand amicably.
"Indeed, Mykola," she replied, a wry smile on her lips. "I see you haven't aged a day."
He bared his teeth in a grin at her comment, only the tiniest wrinkles appearing near his eyes. He was older than even the Flamels, yet the only sign of his age was the pure white curly hair that he'd tied into a loose bun for the occasion. "Thank you, Mahalu," he replied before turning to face Minerva. They exchanged kind and amicable greetings before his smile fell. "Tom."
"Mykola," Tom greeted him with similar coolness. "I handled Igor, finally. I'm sorry for letting him get away from me."
Mykola made an unimpressed sound. "Yes, I'm sure you are," he replied sarcastically. "Though I'm not the one you owe an apology to. Nevermind the girl whose life you left in the hands of Albus of all people, the one Igor has caused the most trouble for is our newest arrival. Miss Atanas had better receive a proper apology from you, boy."
Brynhildr chuckled as she wheeled over, the brilliant white scar across her nose stretching with her grin. Her ash-brown hair was long now, rather than short as it had been when Mahalu had last seen her. "I'm glad to see we're all getting along," she commented dryly, her own Norwegian accent negligible at best. "Mahalu," she greeted the Aztec witch coldly, though Mahalu's condescending smile caused her to scowl.
"Brynhildr," Mahalu greeted her back. "How's the leg?"
Brynhildr gave her a withering look before greeting Minerva with obvious reservations. "It's good to see you," she added, though she cast a nervous glance at Mahalu, who smiled predatorily. Brynhildr had lost use of her left leg when she'd last flirted with Minerva - clearly she'd learned from her mistake.
"Aye, it's good to see you as well, Brynhildr," Minerva replied, her disinterest obvious. Ever since Brynhildr had made her crush obvious by treating mundanes as second-class citizens compared to the Nordic fey, Minerva had been exasperated and bored. It was as if Brynhildr didn't understand that Minerva wanted equality and notsuperiority. Then again, the minds of valkyries never did seem to work like those of humans or fey.
Brynhildr's smile became tight before she looked at Tom and rolled her eyes before shaking his hand. "Couldn't do us the courtesy of staying dead?" She asked, annoyed.
Tom shrugged in response, causing Brynhildr to huff as she rolled over to the table, not interested in looking at him anymore. A sentiment Mahalu agreed with, but unfortunately he was here and she'd been the one asked to bring him.
When Sombra Reysino of the Iberian Peninsula and Knochenbrecher of Gaul appeared, Mahalu's interest was piqued. Neither seemed as they had when last she'd seen them.
"Sombra," she greeted the Spaniard, eyes flicking up to the dark red patch covering his left eye, but not wholly hiding the scarring on that side of his face. "Troubles in paradise?"
"Always, Xochitecatl," Sombra replied while running a hand through his dusky blonde hair, his accent melodic as ever. "The Lupins weren't… fond of how I used to treat lycans, so they taught me a lesson. The older sister's the one I have to thank for this," he explained, gesturing to his eyepatch. "Suffice to say, I've not taken that risk again. They've got quite a bit of support from the Iberian and French Ministries."
"I can imagine," Mahalu replied before letting him go to greet the others, noticing his obvious annoyance towards Tom with no small amount of satisfaction.
When Knochenbrecher walked up to her, they raised a single eyebrow. The scarring on their face and jaw resembled burns - something new. "Mahalu. It's been a while," they murmured, looking at her curiously. "I hear you've taken an interest in the Meadowes girl."
Mahalu's gaze narrowed. "So what if I have?" She replied, raising her chin. "She's got talent and power to spare. She even duelled Tom to a standstill."
Tom shrugged at the various looks of shock he received. "Ophelia's talented, and powerful. I'm not surprised, considering her mothers. She'll be beyond my reach within a year, I'm sure - and Mahalu believes they'll be equals by the time Ophelia's in her thirties."
Knoch turned back to Mahalu, curiosity in their gaze once again. "And she is only… fifteen?"
"Fourteen," Mahalu corrected them. "She turns fifteen at the end of the month. Three weeks' time."
"Fascinating… it seems Atanas may have a rival after all," they mused, stepping away. No doubt their mind was on Hildegarde, who often took an interest in promising talents. Mahalu prayed the woman would never turn her gaze towards Ophelia.
Mahalu didn't even hear the sound of the last apparition. She just saw a girl with tanned skin and short black hair appear, a pair of rectangular glasses atop her head. The black hooded sweatshirt and jeans she wore were a clear sign of her casual nature, and only a few thin scars marred her face. The only reason Mahalu was convinced this girl wasn't just a normal one was the fact that her eyes were as red as every other set in the room, bar Minerva's blue ones.
"Sorry I'm late," she said in a sharp tone. "That fool Karkaroff finally got himself killed, so I had to assign one of mine to take over Durmstrang." She looked at Mahalu and Tom, her gaze piercing in a way Mahalu had only previously contributed to Ophelia when she was angry or otherwise serious. "So you're the Queen of El Dorado, and you're the pain in the ass Allegrata keeps griping about," she muttered before shaking Mahalu's hand first. "Vasilka Atanas, Dark Lady of the Balkans. A pleasure."
Mahalu smirked, impressed and interested. "Mahalu Xochitecatl, High Priestess and Queen of El Dorado. It's nice to finally meet you, Atanas. Feel free to call me Mahalu," she told the girl.
Atanas smirked as well, though the darkness to it made it clear she wasn't someone Mahalu should take lightly. "Thanks. I don't mind if you call me Vasilka," she replied, eyes flashing. "We should keep in touch. I hear your disciple's got power. I'd like to meet her some day."
As Vasilka went to greet Minerva, a more friendly tone in her voice, Mahalu couldn't help but think that if this girl - no, this lady - met Ophelia, that it had better be after her disciple had a stronger grasp of her own abilities. And more confidence. She'd never met more than one other person whose casual Legilimency probes were as strong as Vasilka's, and that was Mykola. With how he greeted her as if she were his granddaughter, she knew that the Balkans and the Slavs had likely formed a relative alliance.
And it wasn't out of the realm of possibilities for Vasilka to be Mykola's apprentice in the same way Ophelia was Mahalu's. The nearly-imperceptible nod Minerva gave Mahalu told her that her thoughts were likely true.
Lovely.
"So… You're Gaunt, are you?" Vasilka said curiously as she looked at Tom, vaguely… amused. "I must admit I was expecting someone a bit more impressive with how Karkaroff spoke of you when I tortured him. Hopefully you'll be able to make it up to that girl before she kills you."
Tom stiffened, obviously affronted at how she was speaking to him, but Mahalu noted with approval that he didn't reach for his wand at all. Good. If he tried to cast a single spell… Well, based on what she saw, if Vasilka or Mykola didn't kill him, Allegrata would.
"Let's sit already," Allegrata said with an annoyed huff. It seemed being annoyed was just her default state of being. Mahalu wondered whether she ever bothered feeling anything else.
All the same, everyone sat. The head was Mykola, of course. Allegrata and Vasilka to either side, followed by Mahalu and Knoch, then Minerva and Sombra, with Tom and Brynhildr at the opposite ends. The order of respect held by the strongest of them.
"So, Tom," Mykola began, his expression one of an adult humoring a child. "How do you intend to right the wrongs you've done? You've done pathetic work in your attempts to become the Dark Lord of the Isles. You've still yet to rid the land of the purists you so loathe, and now there's a girl who would make an exemplary Dark Lady in your stead once she matures, yet your mistakes have led her to suffer at the hand of Albus Dumbledore."
Tom inclined his head, no real upset in his body language. "I've decided to abandon the path of becoming the Isles' Dark Lord. I'm aware I am… lacking," he said, the last word partially through gritted teeth. "I made mistakes and they must be righted. Ophelia is the one I intend to place in my stead. As such, I've begun working to ingratiate myself to her, hence killing Snape - which admittedly Mahalu contributed to, but I would have done so all the same. I am also working to free her mothers, with the intention to disguise it as freeing my followers and pretending they were working on my orders - as if Albus' lies of them Imperiusing my weak-willed followers were true."
Allegrata made an unimpressed sound. "The bare minimum," she said dismissively. "Why do you allow Albus to live? Just kill him and be done with it. Clearly your reputation can't be salvaged."
Knoch gave an amused chuckle. "I wager he feels as though he can get the girl to spare his life if he ingratiates himself to her," they chimed in, a feral grin on their face. "If it were me, I'd kill Tom and Albus both, but a traumatized abuse victim wouldn't be so willing to kill, would she?" Tom stiffened at their words as they hit the mark.
"...You aren't wrong," he admitted sourly. "But while she may not be willing to do so intentionally, she slew my men all the same. 'Mjølnir'. It's a spell she created herself, named by her closest friend. I lost four men due to it. Macnair, Avery, Crabbe, and Goyle. If she were to refine it, it would become a lightning-based equivalent to Fiendfyre," he explained, causing impressed looks to be traded around the table.
Sombra looked at Mahalu. "She is your disciple. Is this true?" He asked, expression severe.
"It is," Mahalu confirmed before an amused smirk appeared on her face. "Thank the gods her friend named it. Ophelia's naming sense is horrible. She wanted to call it 'Kazap'," she added, a couple laughs breaking through. Minerva gave an exasperated sigh and a tired shake of her head, but Mahalu saw the mirth glinting in her eyes.
Vasilka tapped a finger against the table, her expression thoughtful. "Karkaroff is finally dead, Gaunt. He caused me a great deal of trouble, spouting your rhetoric in the Balkans and corrupting the youths of Durmstrang. Your followers are poorly kept," she cut in, her gaze piercing. Tom flinched at her words, and Mahalu had a feeling he'd been shaken by her Legilimency probe.
If she herself hadn't been a master of Occlumency, Mahalu had no doubts that her own secrets would have been laid bare by the young lady. So she wasn't surprised that Tom was so thoroughly shaken. He was fairly skilled with the Mind Arts, but even his moderate talents would pale in comparison to a prodigy.
Tom bowed his head a fraction, likely as much as his pride would allow. "My apologies, Lady Atanas," he replied. "I am working to keep a tighter rein on them. The mask of Voldemort has clearly been more a hindrance than a benefit."
Allegrata snorted derisively. "Oh, you think?" She snarked, shaking her head. "You've gone about this entire thing rather poorly, Tom. Dark Lieges work from the shadows and control their lands through strings and webs, not an iron fist. That kind of indelicacy is why I slaughtered Francesco Zabini," she hissed.
Minerva gave a long-suffering sigh. "And now Chiara struggles because you excised her family from the land," she muttered. "Francesco's thrice-great grandson is Ophelia's ally, Allegrata. I recommend ingratiating yourself to her. Her mind is still very Grey. Until she goes Dark, your life continues solely at her whim once she matures." Allegrata scowled, but it spoke to her respect for Minerva that she didn't object.
"Is she truly so strong?" Mykola asked, eyes flicking to Mahalu. "You three speak quite highly of this girl. I've heard she trivialized the Second Task of the TriWix, and it sounds as if she developed an aura at the same time."
Mahalu nodded. "Five attributes. She's powerful. She would likely have been at our level by now had she been cultivated properly rather than repressed. She works with a Mind Healer for her health, and my and Minerva's guidance has helped her begin to flourish. She's lacking in ambition, but we expect that to change once she gains a proper grasp on the fury she's repressed all these years."
Brynhildr frowned as she steepled her fingers, expression pensive. "Should we invite her to our table? Hosting more of these meetings will be required regardless, at least until Albus is dead and buried."
Allegrata sighed. "I see no reason not to," she replied. "As long as she's more agreeable than the rest of you…" She began to grumble in Italian about sanity and idiots, causing most to roll their eyes in a long-suffering fashion.
"Perhaps we can host such a meeting before September?" Knoch proposed. "She returns to Hogwarts by then, I am sure. Speaking of which, are we certain Albus cannot defeat her? Even in the Mind Arts?"
Mahalu's grin became feral as she chuckled darkly. "Oh, don't worry. Albus would be easy enough for her to kill once she gains some more skill and strategic know-how," she reassured her fellow Dark Lieges. "Her Occlumency is strong enough, though she's yet to practice Legilimency. Besides that, I've ensured she'll have… help," she said, the last word accompanied by a dark, malicious chuckle.
"And how have you managed that?" Vasilka asked, a bemused smile on her face.
"Tlāloc," Mahalu replied coolly. "He's applied as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that Albus sorely needs, yet under a pseudonym. He'll keep Ophelia and her friends safe and trained."
As the conversation began to slowly drift towards other current events such as the skirmishes Mykola was dealing with at the Russian border and the next Centennial meeting - Walpurgisnacht - in a few short years, Mahalu couldn't help but smile to herself.
She couldn't wait to see the doubt leave their faces when they first met Ophelia.
Notes:Dark Lieges, ladies and gents. Dark Lieges. Gods I love this shit.
Discord: https://discord.gg/w5k4TfFRGG
Next Chapter: The Order Meets
Chapter 32: When She CriesNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextAn Order Meeting gets derailed rather quickly.
CW: Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional Breakdown
~~~~~ Ophelia Meadowes ~~~~~
When She Cries
~~~~~ Ophelia Meadowes ~~~~~
July 14th, 1995
As she walked into Number 12 Grimmauld, Ophelia couldn't help feeling like something was different. She glanced at the curtained portrait of Walburga and carefully skirted it as she made her way to the living room, not keen on being called a Mudblood by a mad portrait.
"Sirius?" She said softly, getting her godfather's attention.
He looked up from his book with some surprise before smiling warmly as he got up and drew her into a tight hug. "Hey there, pup. Good to see you."
"Good to see you, too," she murmured, hugging him back. "What's going on? Is the Order already meeting?"
Sirius sighed as they separated. "Not quite. There's been… a complication," he muttered before beckoning for her to follow him. Confused, Ophelia did so and Sirius spoke as they made their way towards the reception hall. "We haven't been able to get in contact with Severus for two weeks, and everyone's restless. We've no idea what Voldemort's been doing in the meantime."
"Singing showtunes?" Hannah offered jokingly as she joined up with them, earning a short bark of laughter from Ophelia's godfather.
"Wouldn't that be something?" He groused before opening the door to the reception hall, letting the girls inside first.
Molly gave them a tight look, obviously not happy about their presence - though she'd certainly learned her lesson, considering how Grandfather had torn into her when last he'd bothered appearing. Kingsley, Tonks, and the black-haired Emmeline Vance all waved and gave the duo kind smiles, while the older men Doge and Diggle both pointedly ignored them. Remus didn't meet her eye from the chair he occupied in a corner, hiding his face behind his long ash-brown hair, while Fletcher didn't move an inch from his own seat, seemingly asleep.
McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore were not yet present.
"Hey, Tonks," Ophelia greeted her pink-haired sort-of-yet-not-a-cousin with a hug. "How are you?"
"Well enough," he replied breezily. "Got a surprise visit from my Bulgarian girl, so that was nice. You spent any time with Daphne?"
"A little," Ophelia replied with a shrug. "It's just been a bit busy at home. Mahalu came by a couple nights ago and gave me another lesson. I wasn't expecting to see her, really."
Tonks grinned, ruffling her hair as she sat down next to him. "That's good, at least you're training. She treating you alright?"
"She always does," Ophelia reassured him, giving Hannah a subtle smirk when her best friend blushed when Emmeline offered her a seat. She knew nothing would come of it - Emmeline was too responsible, and Hannah knew better - but it was cute watching Hannah crush on the woman.
The Floo roared to life, and Dumbledore walked through, a troubled look on his face. "Hello, everyone," he greeted them politely as he took his seat at the head of the table. It didn't escape Ophelia's notice that he didn't spare her so much as a glance. "I'm afraid Severus won't be appearing tonight. He's still not checked in. I can only assume Tom sent him deep underground in order to perform a task, or perhaps has him brewing potions…" He frowned as he looked up and down the table. "Minerva's not appeared yet?"
Doge shook his head. "No, Albus. Haven't seen her yet. Usually she's never late. Could she be busy with Hogwarts duties? Perhaps meeting a new student?" He offered thoughtfully.
"No, nothing quite like that," a familiar voice cut in as Minerva pushed the doors open, sighing annoyedly. "I was kept up. I spoke with our new DADA Professor, Marcus Rivers. He'll do, Albus." She told the Headmaster, striding over and taking her seat next to Ophelia, opposite Doge. "I presume you've finally decided to address Severus' absence?" She asked, eyes flicking to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably, and Ophelia guessed it was probably because of his recent duel with Mahalu she'd been told about. Considering he was well aware of Mahalu and Minerva's restored relationship, it wouldn't surprise her. He held a great enmity towards Mahalu.
Personally, Ophelia couldn't help feeling even more indebted to her mentor. Particularly after she'd been told the Dursleys were gone. It had been quite an emotional moment.
"He is most likely working on Tom's orders, Minerva," Dumbledore replied briskly. "I'm sure he is fine."
"Then you're a fool," Minerva said with a sigh, causing several looks of shock and disbelief. Mostly from Dumbledore's allies. "Severus is dead."
The room became dead silent.
"You're certain?" Diggle asked in a strangled voice, visibly shocked.
"Completely," Minerva replied. "He's been dead for two weeks. I just learned of it myself," she told them, though Ophelia doubted the second part of that statement. Mahalu had told Ophelia in person during their meeting - no doubt Minerva had known for longer.
Dumbledore's hands trembled before he clasped them together. "I see… and do we know who is responsible? Did Tom discover his betrayal?" He asked in a pained voice, looking older and more weathered than ever.
"Yes to both questions," Minerva told him. "However, considering the circumstances, I would hardly consider the death of Severus Snape a loss. I'll reach out to Andromeda about taking the role of Potions Professor at Hogwarts," she added, obviously not caring about what happened to Snape.
Molly looked horrified. "Minerva! How could you be so callous?! Severus was a colleague of yours!" She chastised the older woman, causing a flicker of annoyance to flit through Minerva's expression.
"And our only spy," Diggle added with a tight expression. "It will make it that much harder to predict You-Know-Who's movements," he muttered, wringing his hands.
"It is a bit concerning to lose Severus," Kingsley mused thoughtfully yet cautiously. "However Minerva isn't wrong for not dwelling on it, though it is a loss to our war efforts."
Before Albus could join in the reprimands, Minerva gave a sharp laugh.
"The war efforts? Yes, I suppose you're not wrong there, Kingsley," she replied to the Auror, mostly politely. "However I would never consider the death of a pedophile a loss, you see."
The uproar was deafening until Dumbledore cast a spell that echoed through the room like a gunshot.
"Sit, please," he said irritably, and the various standing wixen all took their seats. He then turned a serious look to Minerva. "That is an incredibly serious accusation to make against a dead man, Minerva. I recommend you take your words back."
"Why?" Minerva retorted sharply. "They're the truth. Though I'm sure your ridiculous faith in Severus is likely unshaken. I could bring the one who informed me of his fate and crimes into the room, of course - but you don't get along with them very well, Albus," she remarked, a harsh look in her eyes.
Dumbledore's brow furrowed before he paled. "You brought her here?!" He asked, outraged as he burst to his feet. While the others looked confused, Ophelia felt her heartbeat quicken.
This meeting was about to get explosive.
"And what if I did?!" Minerva replied as she got to her own feet, her glare much more intimidating. "She's most invested in Ophelia's wellbeing, and someone I trust implicitly. You may not like her Albus, but she's an ally!"
"For what it's worth," Sirius spoke up from his spot, his grey eyes uncharacteristically flinty and cold. "A number of us did not like nor agree with Snape's presence, Albus. If you're going to gatekeep these meetings just because you don't like someone but nobody else has worthwhile objections, then I suggest you leave before I forcibly key you out of the wards for being a hypocrite."
There were numerous looks of shock at that, but even Dumbledore's allies traded nervous, guilty glances between themselves. They agreed with Sirius' words, if not his threat.
Dumbledore gritted his teeth and sat, though if looks could kill, Sirius would have been a pile of ash. "Fine. Let her in. I'm sure her evil will become obvious quickly enough."
"I'd say you wound me, Albus, but I've heard worse from children," Mahalu said blithely as she opened the door, a predatory grin on her face. And oddly enough, a letter in her hand. "Hello, everyone - you can call me Mahalu Xochitecatl," she greeted them, walking up and casually sitting in the chair at the opposite end of the table from Dumbledore.
"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Xochitecatl," Remus greeted her amicably, speaking up for the first time. Though Ophelia noticed he didn't meet her gaze. "I hear you've taken good care of Ophelia. Thank you."
Mahalu looked at him thoughtfully, "And you are…?"
"That eyesore would be Remus Lupin," Sirius explained, glaring at his friend. "Welcome to the Order, Mahalu - obviously not expecting you to sign up. Not really your scene, is it?"
Mahalu smirked and patted his back. "Glad you see it my way, Sirius. You've got more of Arcturus in you than I thought," she commented thoughtfully before looking boredly around the room. Her eyes flashed when she saw Hannah. "Ah, and you must be Hannah. Ophelia's mentioned you quite a bit. Nice to meet you, dear."
"Nice to meet you, Mahalu," Hannah replied with a cheeky grin that had Ophelia wondering if her best friend knew the definition of fear.
Mahalu chuckled before she then sighed dramatically. "Well, I suppose I should get to business before Albus pitches a fit," she said, a shark-like grin appearing on her face while Dumbledore glared. "Snape is dead, yes. I killed him myself after I discovered he was a pedophile. That kind of scum can't be trusted. If you're upset about it, I don't care - he deserved precisely what he got. Besides, he was brain-dead anyway. All I did was finish the job."
There was a cold pallor over the room as several horrified looks were exchanged. To her credit, Molly was the first to break the silence.
"Why… why was he brain-dead?" She asked, voice shaky.
"Tom shattered his mind upon discovering his betrayal," Mahalu told her, sounding a bit bored. "Since he was already a mess, I sifted through his mind to see whether there was any worthwhile information. Instead I found that he had… feelings… towards a certain child."
Tonks was the first to break the next silence. "I probably shouldn't say this, being an Auror… but thanks. I'd consider that a public service," he muttered, ignoring the looks of consternation he received from Dumbledore and Doge.
"I see what Minerva meant now. The loss of a spy is regrettable - the loss of Severus Snape is not," Kingsley said by way of amendment, giving Minerva an apologetic look.
"You couldn't have known, Kingsley," Minerva told him kindly. "But thank you."
Molly was pretty subdued after that, as were several others. There were some mutterings, but after a moment Doge spoke up. "Miss Xochitecatl, we know nothing about you. Where are you from? Why reveal yourself to us now?"
Mahalu chuckled darkly, her red eyes flashing in a way that sent shivers down the table. Only Minerva and Ophelia didn't react. "I am from Brazil, though at the request of mi corazón I'm keeping details of my past private," she explained, a wry grin on her face as she glanced at Minerva. "As for why now… Ophelia needs support. Minerva asked me to mentor the girl, and I've taken an interest in her wellbeing. That means ensuring she has a proper advocate beyond Joshua and Sirius."
Emmeline arched an eyebrow, amber eyes flashing gold as she straightened. "And you're going to provide that?" She asked, a sharp set to her demeanor.
Mahalu looked at her thoughtfully. "I am. I won't baby her, as Ophelia is strong enough to hold her own - but she's only fourteen. She needs better support than she's been getting," she said, her tone brooking no argument.
Emmeline eyes her warily once more before turning to Ophelia. "You trust her?"
"I do," Ophelia replied. "Mahalu's taught me a lot in the last few months. I trust her quite a bit."
Dumbledore looked at Mahalu with a very disapproving expression before his shoulders sagged, which relieved Ophelia. She was worried he might confront her about the Dursleys. "Very well," he said tiredly. "Severus dug his own grave, I'll agree with that." He ran a hand down his face, taking off his spectacles as he looked tiredly at Mahalu. "I see you've brought a letter, Mahalu. What for?" He asked, his tone sounding casually curious, though Ophelia knew better.
Mahalu lifted the letter, twisting it between her fingers as she looked at it. Ophelia was surprised to see her mentor's eyes flash with unease and… annoyance. Mahalu set the letter on the table and flicked her wrist, sending it sliding until it stopped.
Right in front of Ophelia. Her name was written in an elegant yet unfamiliar script on the front, but there was no other manner of address - be it for sender or recipient.
"Who is it from?" She asked, the room oddly silent as she picked the letter up.
Mahalu's expression became pained, and so did Minerva's. The Aztec was the one to speak first. "The sender is… a colleague," she said in a somewhat strangled voice. "Someone who's taken an interest in you, Ophelia."
Minerva rose, hands on the table as she looked at those in the room. "Elphias, Daedalus, Molly, Mundungus. The four of you need to leave. Immediately," she said, her sharp glare silencing any and all objections.
Molly cast a worried glance at Ophelia, but she followed the other three as they left the room.
"Do you need privacy, Minerva?" Kingsley asked politely.
"Only if Ophelia doesn't believe you should know what is about to be discussed," she replied before her gaze flicked to Dumbledore and then Remus. "Or there are other reasons for you to remain present. That letter is not an invitation."
"It's an order," Mahalu agreed tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose momentarily. "I know Ophelia holds enough trust in those present that she's informed you of her aura… but there's a great deal to this situation," she added, expression grim.
"Who is that letter from, Mahalu?" Dumbledore asked, his tone icy in a way that had the others looking up in surprise at his coldness.
"Open it, Ophelia," Minerva said, interrupting the question. "Unless there is anyone else who must leave."
Ophelia swallowed the lump of worry in her throat. "No… it's okay. Everyone's fine…" Her eyes flicked up to Remus, and finally he met her gaze. His expression was pained… but he nodded sedately. He would stay behind when all was said and done.
That secured, she broke the wax seal that bore no symbol and withdrew the letter within, unfolding it with trembling hands.
Greetings to Ophelia Meadowes,
If all has gone well, Mahalu delivered this letter to you. This is a cordial invitation to meet us in London on August 1st of this year. Mahalu can guide you to the location. You may bring one escort, however they must be on their best behavior as any affront will not be taken lightly.
There are several of us who would like to meet you as we have taken an interest in your talents. This is merely to sate our varying curiosities and give you the benefit of forming connections with some of the most powerful wixen in Europe.
For the sake of privacy, our identities will not be disclosed by this letter in case it is overheard or somehow seen by anyone else. Our names are meant for your ears only. If Mahalu tells you what they are that is one thing, but the less who know who we are, the better. Particularly, in certain cases of which we are sure you are aware.
See you in time
"...There's no signature," Ophelia muttered after reading it aloud. "Just like they said. Guess they're really adamant about keeping their identities secret."
"Well, that's not ominous at all," Sirius muttered sarcastically before shaking his head. "I don't like it. Not one bit. This just sounds like every level of dangerous."
Mahalu sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It would be more dangerous to snub them. The letter doesn't lie - I know who they are. They'd be much likelier to hurt Ophelia if she doesn't show. If she does, I can at least be there to ensure nobody tries to hurt her," she explained, resting her arms on the table. "Generally I can go around unhindered by any wix in the world. But thesepeople are among the ones even I have to take seriously."
"Enough," Dumbledore cut in, his expression hard and his gaze severe. "This is madness. Miss Potter cannot see them. I am sure I know who these people are, and they are the darkest, most loathsome people to exist. You shouldn't even be trusting Mahalu, Miss Potter. She murdered your relatives!"
The room was silent for a long moment as Ophelia didn't respond initially, simply looking at the letter for another moment before folding it up and putting it back in the envelope. She snapped her fingers and the letter burned.
Dumbledore sagged in relief. "Thank you, Miss Pott–"
"I'm going," Ophelia interrupted him, ignoring the pounding in her chest as her anxiety began to mount. "I just burned the letter so if anybody found it they wouldn't be able to trace magical signatures," she added by way of explanation, standing on only slightly shaky legs.
Dumbledore was aghast as he also stood. "Miss Potter, you mustn't do this! These people are dangerous! They toy with the lives of others–"
"Like you?" Ophelia said softly, looking up at Dumbledore. She wisely kept her Occlumency shields up as much as she could, but her hands and voice were trembling. "What more can they do, Dumbledore? My Mums are in Azkaban because of you. My uncle thinks he's a monster because you treated him like a burdenwhen you let him attend Hogwarts." Remus' head snapped up in shock, obviously not expecting that. "I suffered at the hands of the Dursleys for thirteen years because of you. They hurt me, Dumbledore." She felt tears slide down her face as she looked at him, her body shaking with only a little anger, but mostly fear and the weight of the emotions roiling through her. "I was a kidand they hurt me, or did you need a reminder?" She furiously yanked her right sleeve up, revealing the cigar burn scars.
Dumbledore flinched, but barely managed to reply, his eyes never once leaving the scars on her arm. "I did what I had to, Ophelia. For the greater good. If I let you live with your mothers, you would have been led down the wrong path. Just as you are now. If you do not aid the Light, then you will be condemning all of the Isles and more to have their lives ruined by the Dark," he said softly, though unlike Ophelia his voice did not tremble.
Ophelia closed her eyes for a moment and took a slow breath before exhaling. "Why won't you free my Mums? You could do it easily. It's the right thing to do. The moral, ethical thing. Mahalu agrees. Minerva agrees. Everyone in this room agrees with that except for you. Even by your plans, my aunt and uncle are dead. They can't raise or hurt me anymore. What? Are you going to force me to live with Marge and Dudley? All for some blood wards? I could have those exact same wards living with Dorcas. Blood wards don't protect based on the blood of the sacrificed person, they base it on the blood of the protected person. Why won't you free my mothers?" She asked in a half-sob, tears streaming further down her face and blurring her vision as she continued to shake and tremble. Hannah took one hand in hers, holding it close and giving Ophelia some support.
But it was hard. It was hard confronting a man she'd thought she could trust. It was hard asking him for answers to these painful questions. It was hard asking him to explain why he would hurt her like this. 'The greater good' was an excuse, and the conflicted look in Dumbledore's eyes told her even he knew it was a poor one at best.
She'd suffered all her life. She'd been hated and beaten, treated like garbage. And now her friends had gotten her to believe she actually might deserve a little bit of respect and actually mattered. They'd helped her realize that she shouldn't have had to live like that. She shouldn't have been hit like that. Starved like that. Screamed and shouted at like that.
She didn't deserve to live her life in fear. She didn't deserve to live with people who hated her. She deserved to be loved.
"Why?" She asked again, her voice shaking and cracking as the emotions overflowed. "Why did you make me suffer?"
Dumbledore opened his mouth as his beard trembled, but no sound came. He didn't say anything for a long moment. The only sound Ophelia could hear in the entire room was the rapid pounding of her heart, accompanied by the blood roaring in her ears.
"I'm sorry," a voice whispered, but it wasn't Dumbledore.
It was Remus.
She turned to him, and was mutedly surprised to see tears falling heavily down his face. "I am so sorry, Ophelia. I am… I am so s-sorry," he sobbed before forcing himself to swallow and taking a shaky breath. "I… I left you. I left you. I left you to suffer, and I should have been the one to protect you. I… I let my fears control me. I am so, so sorry. I… I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I will make it up to you. I promise. I promise. But… I am sorry, Ophelia. You deserve this much from me. You deserve so much better from me. I am so, so sorry."
Sirius stood up, his own hands trembling as he walked over and sat next to Remus, drawing him into a hug. Ophelia gave them a smile that was wet with the tears continuing to fall down her face.
That was it. That was what she wanted to hear. It hurt, but she felt… so much more relieved, hearing Remus say that. Hearing him take responsibility and apologize. Sirius had done so when they'd first met, sobbing and giving her heartbroken apologies as he'd held her in a crushing hug.
But there was one person who still hadn't taken responsibility. Who still hadn't apologized and admitted he'd done wrong. Who still hadn't sworn to do better and promised to not hurt her like he had ever again.
She turned to face Dumbledore once again.
"Can you do that? Can you apologize? Can you fix things and make them right?" She asked, her voice hoarse as she forced it out. It hurt her to speak. It hurt her to say anything. It took an extreme amount of energy to make herself talk around the lump in her throat, and give voice to the pain she was so used to repressing.
But Hannah was holding her hand so damn tightly. She was supporting Ophelia, letting her know she wasn't alone. She wasn't wrong. She was in the right to ask these questions. She deserved to ask these questions. She deserved answers to why Dumbledore had played God with her life for so long and treated her like a pawn.
He made as if to speak again before closing his mouth and looking away. He was quiet for a long moment under her gaze.
"...I did what I had to," he croaked, but she saw the tears glistening on his face just before he Disapparated with the softest of pops.
"Coward," she whispered breathlessly before she sank into her chair and sobbed.
~~~~~ Ophelia Meadowes ~~~~~
"Here," Remus said softly, passing her a cup of hot cocoa. It had whipped cream on top, and some cinnamon. Ophelia accepted it gratefully.
"Thanks," she said softly, her voice still raspy from crying her heart out. Her eyes ached and felt raw and itchy.
They were both quiet for a few moments, each occasionally sipping at their cups. Sirius stepped in for a moment, gently wrapping a blanket around Ophelia's shoulders and giving her cheek an affectionate pat before he gave them their privacy again.
"...I'm living with the Abbotts now," Ophelia eventually said, rubbing her thumb against the warm mug. "Hannah… She's my best friend. She's done a lot for me."
Remus smiled wanly as he gave a weak chuckle. "I can tell. I seem to recall her giving me quite the earful in your third year when it took me too long to tell you I knew your parents," he admitted, a somewhat fond smile on his face. "I knew then that you'd found a very good friend in her."
Ophelia felt her cheeks warm a little, but smiled all the same. "Yeah… she's the best," she murmured before taking another sip. "She's helping me a lot with… confidence, and stuff."
Remus nodded in understanding. "Sirius did much the same for me when we were kids," he said, scratching the back of his neck a little. "My sister wasn't the greatest at pep talks. She preferred to hit her problems, so when I started struggling with… um, depression… it-it wasn't easy," he told her, his voice thickening with emotion. "But please don't think I'm making excuses. I… I've had my struggles, but that doesn't make it okay that I… I left."
Ophelia closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, trying to prevent more tears from falling. "...You did," she agreed. "You left me… and it hurt," she began, her voice cracking on the word 'hurt'. "Then after you scratched me, you left again because you thought you were 'too dangerous'. Remus, you're only a threat once every month. Twelve nights a year. There… there is no way I wouldn't have wanted to live with you instead. And… and you left."
Remus shook with a silent sob, tears sliding down his own face as he took a shaky breath. "I did… I don't deny it. I ran away like a coward, and I'll never be able to fix that," he agreed, sniffling as he wiped tears away. "I let my depression get the better of me, and I abandoned you. I don't know how I could ever make that right… but I owe it to you to try. I owe it to Lily, Dorcas, Marley, Mary, and even Jamie. I owe it to all of them to do better by you, assuming you even want me in your life. But I promise, Ophelia. If you are willing to have me in your life, then I am done running away. I'm… I'm done being a coward and hurting the people I love by letting them suffer."
Ophelia felt as if her chest was being torn open. Her heart ached immensely. His words were exactly what she'd been wanting to hear for over a year. She'd finally heard him say he wanted to be a part of her life.
But as had become a habit recently, something stopped her from accepting him right away. Hannah and Frederick's words, mostly. Daphne's as well. That she needed to know her own worth and actually think before forgiving people. Forgiveness wasn't for them. It was for her. She shouldn't forgive unless she was ready to and she trusted they wouldn't hurt her again.
Remus seemed genuinely and truly remorseful. She could see the pain in his eyes, his posture, and his face. She could see it in the tight way he gripped his mug, and hear it in the shaky breaths and sniffling he made. It was abundantly obvious even to her that he felt bad. Not for the first time, she was thankful for Hermione teaching her how to get in the habit of reading body language and understanding some social cues. Having another autistic person who knew how hard it was had been a massive boon.
"...I can't forgive you yet," she said softly. "It's too soon. I know you've said a lot of things, and they sound reallynice and I want to believe them, but…"
"I know," Remus said softly, his breathing slowly evening out. "Even if you did forgive me, I wouldn't accept it. All I can do right now is tell you I'll do better, but I think it will take time before I can properly prove it to you. I'll start seeing a Mind Healer, like my sister suggests. If I have to, I'll get a mundane job. But… I need to take better care of myself if I'm going to be the kind of adult you deserve to have in your life," he told her gently, taking another sip from his mug, eyes focusing on it rather acutely.
Another silence befell them as Ophelia emptied her mug, using a graham cracker from the pack on the coffee table to scoop up the last of the whipped cream and melted marshmallows. Remus chuckled, earning a questioning look from Ophelia.
"Dorcas did the same exact thing," he explained. "The lot of us always had hot cocoa together after a full moon in the cold. Dorcas liked to get all the sugar, so she would use a graham cracker and get the last little bits of chocolate, cream, and marshmallow. She called them her 'S'mores sticks'."
Ophelia couldn't help giggling at that. It sounded so… silly and innocent. Nothing like the image the public had tried to make of the 'Imperial Three'. As her mind went to that moniker, she looked curiously at Remus. "Did… did you know?" She asked softly. "That they were innocent," she explained to his questioning look.
Remus grimaced. "Actually, I didn't even find out they were in Azkaban until the summer before your third year. The moment I thought Siri had… Well, I ran away. All the way to Australia. Later I went to Venezuela, then Canada, Greenland, and lastly I was in Norway when Albus contacted me. I found out about Dorcas and the others that summer, but Albus… he kept me busy, so I never found out he was the one who framed them until about eight months ago. When I did, I was still depressed about…" He paused before gathering himself, though his voice became more tremulous. "About the accident. So I didn't know what to do. I'd felt like my world had been pulled out from under me. I wanted to free them, but what could I do? I'm a werewolf. People want me in there with them, not them out here with me. Worse, when it became public that I was a werewolf, my sister and I had to lie low in Spain for half a year. Dealt with some Iberian Dark Wizard - sort of. Flavia scratched his eye and we booked it. But in the end… when I saw that article. The one about you being Dorcas' daughter. That's when I came back."
Ophelia took a moment to let that sink in. He'd been all over the world to combat his depression, hiding or dealing with his demons. He'd not even known her Mums were in prison for more than two years.
"...Was it really that well-kept a secret? That Dorcas was my mum?" She asked. It was another question she'd been wanting the answer to.
"Actually, no," Remus replied with a concerned furrow to his brow. "I knew you were Dorcas' with just a glance. You resemble her quite a bit. The nose and hair especially. But Albus… he said you didn't know, and told us it would be kinder to lie and pretend Jamie was your father," he admitted before gritting his teeth. "I suppose both Sirius and I placed our faith in the wrong man. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, Ophelia. I should have been honest from the start."
She didn't disagree, mostly because a small part of her agreed. He should have told her about Albus not being trustworthy, but… it was too late now. The past had happened, and all they could do was keep trying to make things right.
She didn't ask any more questions, simply sidling closer and resting her head on Remus' shoulder. He stiffened briefly before he gently slid his arm behind her and wrapped it around her shoulders, gently rubbing her right shoulder.
"I'm going to get some rest," she told him softly. "You're… you're not going anywhere?" She asked, her voice hesitant and the tiniest bit hopeful while still being shaky and nervous.
"Never, Ophelia. Never again," he promised.
"...Thanks, Uncle Mooney."
Notes:Lupin? Redeemed. Dumbledore? Guilty. Me? Sobbing like a baby.
This chapter fucking GOT ME.
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Next Chapter: Ophelia goes on a date.