╰┈➤ regulus black x oc
❝ you're bleeding. ❞
❝ why thank you for pointing out the obvious, potter. ❞
☄. *. ⋆ in which ophelia potter's life is struck by a wizarding war, the death of her parents, and the bombshell that is her death eater ex, regulus...
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"you're bleeding."
it was a blunt observation, but an accurate assessment of the current conundrum she had found herself in.
see, the day had started out in a relative stupor of uneventfulness. ophelia had woken up, bright and early (ten minutes before she had to leave for work), and almost forgot her wand on her bedside table.
after a rather bloody tussle with a band of death eaters a fortnight ago, she hadn't been on intelligence and patrol duty, merely going into the office to research, along with those who were in no shape to go out on the field, but didn't have the gall to transfer to a different job.
the auror office.
she never really bothered to learn every name of those she worked with, so greetings issued upon entering office were always superficial to a degree; it was grim work, so no one really questioned it.
the lamps were dimmed like some form of animal cave, the desks strewn with old maps and diagrams, and the occasional shredded copy of the daily prophet. the shelves were lined with awards, trophies, and weird luminescent masses suspended in jars, confiscated from the experimental charms department.
their numbers were significantly fewer than they had been at the start of the decade, the poignant absence of frank and alice longbottom still hung in the air. after the incident in 1982, the brooding presence of alastor moody was enough to take the entire office into a state of resignation, and depression.
"any news?" ophelia questioned dorcas meadowes as she took a heavy sitdown on a chair beside the desk where the weary-looking auror was sat. dorcas was nice, she supposed, as nice as aurors in the office could go. it wasn't as if she was going to small-talk with rufus scrimgeour, was she?
"morning, potter." dorcus mused, sliding over a report warily for ophelia to see. "word just came in, that evan rosier isn't actually dead. a sighting down in hampshire."
her brow furrowed slightly, the sensation in her chest sinking slightly. "moody isn't going to be happy about that."
dorcas shook her head, her black braids swaying slightly off her shoulders, hanging in a frame around her neck. "i suggest not talking to him for the week."
evan rosier. son of gareth rosier. death eater.
ophelia had encountered him a few times before; at their shared time at hogwarts, a dinner party, and of course, the day of his alleged death. it was messy, moody having lost a good chunk of his nose to the young man, before he had eventually succumbed. her frown increased in fevor for a second.
