Being home was so familiar, so perfect, that it hardly felt like she had been gone at all. She fell right back into her usual routines. Making breakfast with Ginger, reading in the field of wildflowers behind their small cottage, and dancing to muggle records around the sitting room with Remus. For her, being home from school for two months was a blessing. It wasn't that she didn't like it, or that she didn't have friends; because she didn't think she could ever properly describe how incandescently happy being at Hogwarts made her. But there was only one thing she loved more, and that was spending time with her Dad and Ginger.
On top of that, she had secured plans to visit the Weasley's in late August after her birthday. It was fine by Remus, though he wouldn't be joining as he would still be sore from the August full moon. She would spend the last two days of summer with them, and she was beyond excited to get two extra days with her friends; as Harry would also be meeting them, as Ron vaguely put in a letter.
Harry was the only one that didn't seem to put any effort into contacting them at all. At first she reckoned it was because he lives with muggles, but that truly didn't make any sense. After all, Hermione had neither an owl nor wizard parents, yet she had figured it out. She had eventually come to the conclusion he must have been taking some space. He did almost die at the hands of his Professor, and the man that killed his parents; it was reasonable to distance himself from everything for a bit.
For the majority of her break though, her last thought was her friends or school. She wanted nothing more than to spend time with her family, and that was what she did. She took care of Remus after the July full moon, as per usual, and they played board games and she read aloud to him as he drifted in and out of peaceful sleep. She watched muggle movies with Ginger in the sitting room late at night, and she picked flowers for a centre piece at their dining table from the meadow; which she magically charmed to stay alive.
They had camp-outs a lot, in the backyard with a muggle tent, camping the 'muggle-way'. It was fun, they enjoyed it and did it as often as they could; and one humid night, in early August, it was just the two of them, laying on the grass, staring up at the stars.
'It's pretty, isn't it?' Ophelia breathed, and Remus, who was laying beside her made a 'hmm' sound in agreement.
'What would you wish for? If you saw a shooting star right now?' She asked. She often asked questions like this because she truly couldn't help it; she was so naturally curious about everything.
'Well, if I tell you it won't come true.' Remus had reminded her, rolling over to his side to look at her. Ophelia did the same.
Ophelia giggled. 'But it was theoretical! You can tell me. Come on, come on, pleaseee.' She pleaded, her warm honey eyes staring into his.
He sighed, telling her she had won the battle, but he took a few moments to piece together his answer. 'You want the truth?' He finally asked.
She nodded eagerly, feeling very much like a five year old again.
'Nothing.' He said contently.
'Nothing?' She questioned, furrowing her eyebrows.
'If everything is already perfect, what more could I ask for?' Remus smiled.
Ophelia smiled back, but she had to tease him just a little bit or she simply wouldn't be acting herself; 'Not even chocolate?'
Remus laughed. 'Already got a life supply, love.' He reminded her. 'And besides.' He rolled onto his back again to stare up at the stars, and Ophelia copied his motion. 'Somebody once told me we shouldn't spend our life wishing for things to be different.' He said thoughtfully.
'And you believe it?'
She had a hard time believing he truly thought that. Terrible things happened to Remus Lupin, it would be understandable to wish for things to be different.
'It can be hard to.' He admitted. 'But it's nice to, isn't it?'
'Yeah it is.' Ophelia admitted, smiling.
'And besides, all things considered, I'd say our life is pretty perfect wouldn't you?'
Ophelia smiled, her eyes dancing all over the bright shiny stars that shone above and with a content sigh she said; 'Agreed.'
The summer of '92 had gone by fast. After many more nights, with thoughtful conversations, exchanges of 'I love yous' and spending time just the three of them; August 27th rolled around. Ophelia's twelevth birthday.
She was woken up by Ginger, who was blowing loudly into a noise-maker Remus had bought at a muggle store downtown. Ophelia giggled, as her duvet was ripped off her (with some struggle, she's a small elf, after all) and she was led downstairs where a breakfast display awaited her. Remus was at the stove, a pink apron wrapped around his outfit, as he fryed bacon.
'I don't believe it. Remus Lupin, cooking?' Ophelia gasped.
Remus laughed. 'I'll have you know, I can cook quite adequeatley when I put my mind to it.' He turned off the stove, slid the bacon onto a plate with a flipper (he liked to cook the muggle way, on the rare occassions he did--said it reminded him of his Mum) and he made his way towards her, kissing her on the cheek.
'Happy birthday sweets.' With a quick hug, they all sat down to breakfast. French toast, bacon, eggs of many kinds, jams, toast and every fruit imaginable was laid out in pretty dishes they saved only for special occassions.
'Wow I feel special.' Ophelia joked as she took a bite of french toast.
'You are special.' Remus and Ginger retorted at the exact same time. She had never felt more loved.
Later they went to the book store, as usual, and she picked out a muggle book of her choosing. And in the night, they had strawberry shortcake and butterbeer as she opened presents. She hadn't expected any. The breakfast and the book was more than enough, which is why she was surprised when she was handed two parcels as she sat in an armchair drinking butterbeer, a party hat strapped to her head.
'For me?'
'It is your birthday.' Remus chuckled, as he sat next to her.
She smiled and unwrapped the first one. Lollies and chocolate from Ginger. 'Thanks Ging!' She hugged the tiny elf, and moved onto the next one. It was slightly larger, heavier, and felt firm.
As she opened the wrapping and it's contents were revealed, she gasped. 'It's a radio!'
Remus smiled. 'I magicked it so you don't need to plug it in or anything, it should work at school and there's some other CD's in there you can take if you like.' Ophelia smiled, as she picked up the various CD's under it. Queen, Wham! , Madonna, Micheal Jackson, The Beetles, ABBA, Elton John; all her favourites he knew she adored.
Smiling, and slightly teary eyed, all she could do was wrap her arms around Ginger and him. 'I take it you like it then?' He asked, hugging her back.
'I love it.'
'Good. You mentioned in one of your letters you missed music at school. Been working on it for a while.' Remus smiled as they parted.
'I love you two.' She smiled.
'We love you too.' They hummed back.
She truly didn't know what she had done to deserve the both of them.
...
The Weasley's house was large, and in a part of England Ophelia had never heard of (Ottery St Catchpole, apparently Luna lived nearby also). Their house was slender, rather than wide, but it was truly a sight to behold. She didn't know what she expected, having seven children surely meant a large home, but she wasn't sure she had ever seen a house so tall.
When they knocked on the door, that was nestled between beautiful beds of tulips and lilies; Molly Weasley was the one to open it. She wore a maroon coloured dress, and a quilted apron. Her frizzy, curly ginger hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head, and she held a tea towel in her hand. 'Ah! Hello dears, we're so thrilled to have you.' She said, pulling them both in for an expected large hug.
'Thank you for having us, Molly, but I'm afriad it's just one of us; I can't stay.' Remus said politley.
Molly sighed. 'Ah, you always were too busy for your own good, my dear. Would you at least come in for a bite to eat? You look so skinny!' She smiled.
Remus laughed, 'I couldn't possibly put you out of your way, Molly. Besides, I have some things to do.'
Molly made a 'tsk tsk' noise. 'Oh alright. Ophelia, dear, would you like to go upstairs and see Ron? He should be somewhere up there with Gin.' She asked sweetly.
'Oh, is Harry not here yet?' Ophelia asked.
'Harry's not coming, dear,' Molly explained, 'We tried to contact him but it doesn't seem to work. Must be something about muggles, eh?' She chuckled.
Ophelia laughed lightly. 'Must be.'
'Yes, well, why don't you run along and find the others? They'll be excited to see you.'
Ophelia nodded, and turned to Remus. He handed her the heavy trunk that was filled with her posessions, after all she was going to King's Cross straight from the Weasley's. She felt bad about it, but Remus assured her that it was more than okay; as he would hardly be in any condition to go out so soon after a full moon.
They hugged, he kissed the top of her head, and they said 'I love you' and 'See you soon'; though it would be months until they saw each other again. Their goodbyes hadn't gotten any easier, but they learned to cut them short when people were present; in this case that would be Molly. Though they were quick and snappy, the silence said everything it needed to say. They made unsaid promises to write and promises to stay out of danger more importantly; before Ophelia waved goodbye and made her way into their warm and cozy kitchen.
She could still hear their conversation inside the house.
'Small world, eh? Our children becoming the best of friends.' Molly said cheerfully.
'I'm just so glad she's found such good friends. Ron, Harry and Hermione, well I've never seen her so happy.' Remus replied. She smiled to herself. They were two different types of happiness; being with friends and being with him. Neither meant more than the other, but she smiled thinking of how fondly he spoke of her when he wasn't aware she could hear.
It was easy to navigate through the Weasley home. It was just as narrow on the inside as it appeared on the outside. Their was a kitchen, and a small sitting room and then a staircase that led to the narrowest part of all; presumably where the bedrooms would be. Thier house was so cozy, and it gave off a feeling of comfort she couldn't quite describe.
There was a clock on the wall, with all of the faces of each family member onto a seperate spoon hand. For now, all of them were pointed to 'Home', even Charlie and Bill (Ron had mentioned they were home also). Most of the labels were normal like 'Work' , 'Hogwarts' and 'Shopping', but there was also one labelled 'Mortal peril' and she was beyond relieved to see that none of them were pointed towards that. She also wondered, for a fleeting second, if this clock had Ron at that section, last June, when they were on their mission.
Her trance was broke when somebody spoke;
'Ah, you made it then. Welcome to the Burrow, Lupin.'
It was George, smiling, in a maroon jumper and brown muggle jeans, having obviously ventured down here for food but was faced with a person instead.
'Hullo. The Burrow? Why do you call it that?' Ophelia asked, as she absent-mindedly looked around at all the various objects.
'Erm, I dunno. Must've somehow started and just stuck, I suppose.' George shrugged. 'The rest of the lot is upstairs if you were looking.'
'Yeah, your Mum said so. Just looking here though, your house is so interesting.'
George scoffed. 'Hardly. It's much too small for nine people, let alone tweleve, filled with a lot of Dad's muggle artifacts. He's very interested in muggle things, you see.' George told her.
'I dunno, seems cool to me. I've never been in somebody else's house before, though. I like it, the clutter, the busy atmosphere, the smell--it's nice.' Ophelia smiled.
'You're easy to please.' George laughed a bit. 'Come on, I'll carry your trunk upstairs.'
She nodded and he led the way, carrying her very heavy trunk in front of her. He gave her a quick tour, not that there was much to see, but she appreciated it nevertheless.
'Right. That's mine and Freddie's room.' He pointed to the closest one to the top of the staircase. 'And that's Percy's, wouldn't recommend getting too close, he can be a bit tempermental.' George whispered the last bit, as if not to be heard, and Ophelia laughed. 'Erm, anyway, that one's Ron's. He only has his own room because Bill and Char are away most of the time, but he'll be sharing with Harry.' He said, pointng to a door on the far left.
'Harry? Your Mum said he's not coming.' Ophelia frowned.
'Not yet, he isn't.' George winked, and then continued; 'That's the spare, Bill and Char will stay there. And this is Ginny's room, or your room I guess too, for the next few days.' George nodded, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway.
He put her trunk in front of the door, and then he nodded. 'Well, that's that then. Enjoy your stay at the Weasley residence.' He joked, before disappearing back down the stairs. She laughed and shook her head.
She met Ginny briefly, she seemed sweet; a year younger, but just as fiery as the rest of her red-headed brothers, if not more. Percy dragged her along to hear about how he was going to be a prefect this year, as nobody else would listen, and she met the infamous Bill and Charlie. She didn't think she had ever met two more interesting people; one living in Egypt and working for Gringotts, and the other in Romania training dragons. She understood why all of them spoke so highly of the two.
As for Harry, it seemed everybody else was having trouble getting a hold of him too. Of course, as she should have expected, Ron and the twins had devised a plan to get him here.
'We're leaving at four tomorrow.' Fred told them all. 'Using the car Dad has.'
'Four in the morning?' Ophelia gaped.
They were sitting in Ron's room, on the floor in a little circle discussing the plan. Ophelia had no idea how she constantly got dragged into these type of things.
'Well, of course, we have to be back before Mum knows we're gone.' George told her.
'I'm sure she would help you if you just told her. There must be a safer way-' Ophelia started.
'Oi we didn't bring you into this to be a Percy about it.' Fred reminded her. 'You in or you out?'
Obviously she was in. She was in the moment they told her the plan, she just wished it was safer. Most of all, she wished that she had kept her promise to her Dad to be safe for longer than an hour; but this was about Harry—she had to go.
So they left. At 4 am, creeping about the Burrow, and they made their way to the sky blue Ford Anglia in Mr. Weasley's workshop.
'Right then. It flies, so prepare yourself.' George told her.
Of course it did.
With a sigh, they all crammed into the small car. There was just barley enough room left for Harry and all of his possessions , but they could make it work. Fred drove the car; while Ron, Ophelia and George were squished together in the back. It took him a while to get it flying smoothly, but once it was working properly, he pressed a button that made the car invisible to any passerby's below.
'You Weasley's are going to be the death of me!' Ophelia laughed over the rustling of the wind, as they were sailing over suburban homes in London.
Though she might never admit it, because she made quite a fuss about going on this excursion, she had never felt more alive. The windows down, with the wind blowing in her face, messing up her curly black hair; flying above London, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. It was dark, the streetlamps being the only source of night, as they observed this beautiful place at nighttime.
Harry's home looked decent enough, though she knew the same couldn't be said for the people he lived with. She knew the Dursley's weren't the kindest of people, yet she didn't have a good idea until, right now hovering next to his window, she saw that it was bolted and chained shut. Before she really knew what was happening, Ron had signaled Harry, and Harry had cracked open his window as much as he could with the chains.
'Ron?' Harry asked, sounding perplexed. She watched as his gaze went to Fred and George, who waved, and then to her.
'Hey stranger.' Ophelia joked.
Harry didn't say anything, he looked to surprised to do so.
'Come on, we've got to hurry and get you out of here. Start getting your things!' Ron told him. Harry did what he said, and was quick about it too; his trunk was already packed, and Hedwig already in her cage, so their only issue was getting his window unbolted. Luckily, Fred and George had come prepared. And after a few minutes of struggling, and the Dursley's barging into his room in a furious rage, they managed to pull Harry and his things into the car; and the flew away as fast as they possibly could.
'Thanks.' Was all Harry could say, even miles away from the Dursley's home.
'Couldn't let them keep you trapped in there, mate. We hadn't heard from you since June!' Ron explained from the backseat, where he, Ophelia and George were sitting.
'It wasn't me, it was Dobby. He stopped me from getting all my letters, said it wasn't safe for me to come back to Hogwarts.' Harry informed them.
'That's very fishy.' Fred piped up.
'Yes, very dodgy.' George added.
'What do you mean?' Harry asked.
'House-elves can't do anything without permission from their masters, he must have been told to come and tell you that.' Fred explained.
'Must've been some sort of sick joke.' George added.
'Or it could have been a genuine warning.' Ophelia chimed in.
'Yeah, his masters are the Malfoy's.' Fred snorted. 'Not bloody likely they'd do anything to help Harry.'
Ophelia made a 'hmph' noise, and that was the end of that conversation.
'Honestly, what would you do without us?' George winked.
Ophelia rolled her eyes.
'Oh and by the way, happy late birthday you two!' Ron told Ophelia and Harry; who both smiled, as they soared above the clouds and made their way back to the Burrow.
Hours later, they would be yelled at by Mrs. Weasley for their excursion, but this moment was too perfect for any of them to care. And later that day they went to Diagon Alley, dicussed the function of a rubber duck with Mr. Weasley, met up with Hermione and enjoyed the last few humid days of the summer. And just as quick as it had begun, summer of 1992 had come to a close; and their second year had begun.