The next couple days were torturous. Visiting Sirius was out of the question given Buckbeak's situation; every spare moment spent consoling Hagrid -whom was beside himself about losing his friend.
Nothing they said, or did, seemed to be good enough. No heartfelt words of praise would make the Ministry reconsider the decision, or soothe Hagrid's pain. Despite that, the four of them did everything in their power to change the fate of the innocent hippogriff. Hermione spent hours in the library researching laws and regulations to find some sort of loophole the Ministry hadn't considered, Ophelia had lengthy discussions with Remus about the legality of the situation and Ron and Harry took on the job of distracting Hagrid - keeping him as upbeat as possible. Still, none were successful.
Draco Malfoy seemed to be nothing but pleased at the news of Buckbeak's execution in the coming months; not even putting in an effort to hide his smug grin as he passed them in the corridor. Ophelia couldn't help but grind her teeth everytime she saw him - cringing at the time she might have considered him a friend, and doing her best not to attack him whenever there was a time slot available to do so.
Divination was going terribly. Professor Trewlawny had driven Hermione to the brink of insanity; causing her to drop the class - something unheard of for Hermione Granger. Ophelia couldn't very well say she blamed her though, if her father wasn't a teacher himself she would drop it the moment the opportunity presented itself. She couldn't very well do that though; and left partnerless, the class was becoming increasingly difficult to pass without Hermione's, though sparse, expertise.
To make matters worse, if that was even possible, Buckbeak's situation wasn't the only issue keeping her from Sirius. Hermione kept a close eye on her; never letting her out of sight since she caught her sneaking back that night. Though she was worried, she never raised her concerns in front of Harry or Ron; which was something to be thankful for given the situation. She would have to be more discreet on their next visits however.
Pushing all that aside though - today was March 10th, 1993. Remus Lupin's thirty-third birthday.
'HAPPY BIRTHDAY!'
His bed squeaked as Ophelia launched herself onto the end of it, shaking at his body that was rolled up under the crimson covers; giggling as he groggily swatted her away, Ophelia having just slipped into his room.
'Too early.' He grumbled, pushing his face into the pillow and tugging the covers closer to his body as she tried to pull them away.
'It's never too early on your thirty-third birthday.'
'Am I really that old?' He groaned, voice coming out in croak as he continued to shimmy away from her nagging.
'Oh hush, you don't look a day over twenty.'
'Mhm.' He replied, thoroughly unconvinced, 'flattery gets you nowhere this early in the morning, darling.'
'It's only eight.' She retorted back, her positive tone not fading in the slightest.
'Mhm, and that's three hours too early for a Sunday.' He grumbled.
Ophelia let out a melodramatic sigh, falling onto her back with a hardly graceful flop,
'I guess I'll have to eat all the chocolate myself.'
As if on cue, he sat up, honey eyes narrowed in suspicion of whether or not she was joking (which she wasn't),
'Oh, you're evil.' He accused, index finger waving accusingly at her; as he ruffled his messy hair, rubbed his tired eyes like a small child and stretched slightly.
'Evil, but persuasive.'
'Five minutes.' He conceded, and she smiled brightly as she hopped up, kissed him on the cheek and fled to the sitting room to wait for him.
The house-elves had pitched in to make him a special birthday breakfast; which was sprawled on silver platters on the coffee table - stacks of perfectly golden brown toast, dozens of flavours of jams for him to choose from and various fresh berries. Enough to feed eleven, though if he was really hungry she was positive he could finish it all himself (wolf tendencies at their finest, you see).
It wasn't all that hard to convince the elves to help her out; everybody loved Remus and was willing to pitch in. On top of that, a number of students had given her gifts to pass on to him; with the majority of them being sweets, she knew he would appreciate the sentiment immensely.
Her gift this year, perhaps, was not as special as years past. The majority of it being chocolate, along with a handmade card, did not exactly compare to previous birthday presents she had gifted him. Not being allowed to go to Hogsmeade limited her options, but Hermione and Ron were (like usual) ever-so willing to buy whatever she pleased for her. Hence the assortment of chocolates she had wrapped individually was the best she could do; but chocolate was, perhaps, his favourite thing in the world (apart from her and Ginger, of course) so she didn't see it posing a problem.
'You haven't gone back to sleep have you?' She called, teasing, after a couple moments.
'How could I?' Remus mumbled back, somewhat bitterly, to which she let out a bark of laughter.
She heard the soft patter of his footsteps and the continued mumbles of protest that streamed out of his mouth until he turned the corner and was in view; crimson flannel pyjama pants hung low on his hips, and a forest green jumper pulled lazy over his body.
He pulled a hand through his sandy brown hair as he yawned and made his way towards the sofa she sat on, eyes still not fully open, 'Alright, alright, I'm here.'
When his eyelids flickered open fully, and his brain began to comprehend everything, his face registered a couple of expressions; but the most prominent perhaps, was surprise.
Dozens of gifts were sprawled around the coffee table, accompanied by the special breakfast she had requested herself. Even a parcel Ginger had sent in via owl was nestled somewhere within the pile (which she knew to be knitted socks she had crafted for him) and her lips curved into a smile as she watched his honey eyes trail over the view he was faced with.
'This is too much.' Were the first words that streamed out of his mouth, which was slightly agape in surprise.
Ophelia rolled her eyes as she tugged on his wrist and forced him to sit next to her,
'You're the only person I know that complains when you get gifts.'
'I don't deserve this-' He started, to which she cut him off.
'Okay, now that's enough. We are not wallowing in self-pity on your birthday.' She sighed, as she sprung up off the sofa and moved to collect the first parcel - the one from her.
'Besides, you do deserve it.'
She tossed the parcel to him and he barley caught it, smiling as he read the handwritten tag that was addressed to him and signed from her. His eyes flickered up again, eyebrows quirked upwards,
'All of this is for me?' He asked, confirming, while still in utter disbelief - as if the prospect of such an extravagant set up couldn't possibly be for himself.
'Unless I've got the wrong person, this is all for you.' She smiled, to which he returned, as she sat down and he pulled her into his side and gave her a loving squeeze.
'It's not all from me, though.' She spoke up, as she pulled away slightly, leaning forward to point out specific parcels as some of her black curls fell over her freckle-dotted face,
'That one is from Hermione, that one is from the Weasley's, that's from Luna, that's from Neville, that's from...oh, Seamus I think...' she trailed off, continuing to name who gifted him what, and his smile widened with every student she mentioned.
Dozens of students had gifted him a little something. Some of them essentially valueless, though sentimental, things like handwritten cards or drawings; some the exact opposite like sweets, or even books. Still, regardless of what they were - the sheer amount she had been asked to pass on was incredible.
She couldn't say she was surprised. She knew back in August before they even arrived for this year that everyone would adore him similarly to how she does. She wasn't surprised, but thankful in a way - perhaps he'd start to believe he's worth something with the more people that reminded him of it.
'And then...that one is from Minnie.' She went on, 'and that one is from Dumbledore. There's some rock cakes from Hagrid, I think some tea leaves from Trewlawny and some sort of plant from Professor Sprout.' She concluded, leaning back and smiling; immensely proud she had remembered who gifted him what.
He was speechless.
'You didn't get one from Snape though, if you were wondering.' She added, in a teasing voice.
Remus let out a choked laugh, as he hugged her again, 'Thank you.' He murmured into her curly black hair.
'I hardly think I'm the one to thank. You're wonderful. Everybody loves you.'
His face flushed into a beet red colour as he looked away bashfully, still observing the presents that were all his.
'Well, in any case, still - thank you. I love it.' He fumbled, turning to face the daughter that looked so much like him; the daughter that cared enough to do something of this extravagance entirely for him.
'I'm lucky to have a Dad like you. I don't say it often enough.' She admitted, 'but you're wonderful, and I want you to know that.'
His expression softened, a humble smile tugging at his lips, holding back his tears as he sucked in a breath.
Ophelia broke the silence, knowing the words he meant though he failed to say them, 'So birthday boy, breakfast or presents first?'
Remus smiled - sniffling and switching back into the upbeat, birthday Remus in an instant,
' Uh...presents? Bit too early for breakfast.' He said softly, still in awe over the various parcels - he had likely never seen so many in his life.
'Wise choice.' She nodded in confirmation.
'I thought so.' He grinned, as he picked up the small package from her to open; the beginning of an hour long unwrapping of various sweets, hand-made cards and knitted items from Ginger.
It didn't take long after that for them to dive into breakfast; lathering various different jams onto pieces of toast, piling their plates with fresh fruit, and Remus making tea for the both of them.
It was pleasant. It was enjoyable. It was, dare say, normal. His eyes weren't tinged with sadness, but pure happiness - an unlikely thing for him this year.
She wished she could tell him about Sirius. She wished he could know that while he was sleeping; she was in the Shrieking Shack, chatting with the very person that he was under the impression had caused the most traumatic things in his life. She wished she could tell him he was innocent, and their worries insignificant. She wanted to tell him.
But as he danced around aimlessly to music he had cued up on his record player, swaying his hips back and forth and wailing his arms in a comical manner; a genuine smile plastered on his face, and the creases of worry in his forehead gone - she knew she couldn't tell him. Not today, not yet; and not without Sirius' permission.
So she let herself be pulled up from the sofa, and she let herself be twirled as he danced around; his moves less than graceful, but the happiness on his face making up for it. They fell into a rhythm, stumbling into the other as she laughed until she couldn't breathe; him continuing to twirl her until she was dizzy, eating chocolate in the breaks between songs before starting to dance again, and sipping on lukewarm tea when they were out of breath.
She let herself enjoy it because it wasn't everyday Remus Lupin turns thirty-three, and it wasn't everyday he was this happy either.
And eventually, as the upbeat songs faded into slower ones; she watched in pure adoration from father away as he tapped his toes to the rhythm, and sipped his tea - eyes flickering up every so often to meet hers, and his lips quirking up into a smile every time they did.
Another year had passed, yet they were here - together, enjoying themselves, like they always did. And though everything was different, impossibly different, it somehow felt the exact same as it always had; which spoke for itself given the trying circumstances this year had forced upon them. The arguments, the fear, everything - it seemed insignificant today, all of it forgotten as they celebrated like they always did.
It was today that gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, things wouldn't have to change when Sirius came into the picture. If anything, maybe it would change for the better. She hoped, at least.