June 5th, 1994
11:17 pm
'You finish your exams tomorrow?'
'Mhm. Divination and Potions tomorrow, then we're done for the year.' Ophelia confirmed, as she stole a chunk of the cookie Sirius was scarfing down and popped it into her mouth - to which he responded with an expression of mock-offence.
'Oi, you get to eat whenever you want. Let me have my cookies.'
She rolled her eyes jokingly as she tossed it over, and he smiled as he began to root around for something else to snack on.
It was warm today. April and May had flown by fast, and suddenly it was June; exams were over, summer was coming up and another year coming to a, for once, seamless close.
Perhaps it wasn't so seamless though. Since their first encounter back in February, four months ago, nothing had progressed in terms of his freedom. She began to question whether or not he really had a plan, and it became increasingly difficult to discuss everything but his plan, and the truth she was yet to hear, on their visits. Partly because she cared so much, and couldn't fathom losing him after just getting him back, but partly because the year was almost over - opportunities slipping away every passing second he didn't do anything.
'Sirius.' She said abruptly, sitting up straighter and turning to face him, 'There's only a couple weeks left of the term. Whatever you're planning...it needs to happen soon.'
'I have a plan.'
She frowned, 'A real one?'
'A good enough one.'
'What does that even mean?' She exasperated, rubbing her temples.
'Do you trust me?'
'I...'
'Do you trust me?'
She sighed, 'Yes but-'
'Then trust that I have a plan, okay?'
She gave him a skeptical look, unsure, before nodding,
'Just don't mess it up, please.' She murmured, head hung low, hating that she doubted him but the risk of losing him too great - too real.
His expression softened, a smile tugging at his lips, 'I'll do my best.'
June 6th, 1994
2:45 pm
'How do you think you guys did?' Ron questioned, catching up to Ophelia and Harry in the bustling hallway after having been dismissed from their Potions exam.
Snape had been particularly nasty today, but all things considered - she thought the exam went well. Potions wasn't her brightest subject but she knew enough to, at the very least, get an acceptable.
'Fine.' She shrugged, turning to look at her red-haired friend, 'but knowing Snape he'll find some way to make us fail.'
Ron hummed in agreement, cheeks still flushed from frustration with Snape, as they kept walking - weaving in and out of the busy crowd, talking louder over the hoots of celebrations regarding the ending of exams.
'If anything, we all passed Defence. I'm sure of it, with Professor Lupin teaching.' Harry chimed in, flashing a grateful smile to Ophelia.
'Defence was easy.' Ron agreed.
'And you guys had doubts about him.' She teased, to which they both rolled their eyes sarcastically.
The bar had admittedly been low in terms of teachers in that specific post, but Remus Lupin managed to raise it higher than any of them thought possible.
'Hey, does anyone know where Mione is?' Ron spoke up, frowning as he stood on his tip-toes to observe the crowd.
As of on cue, their eyes widened as they saw Hermione barrel down the corridor - book bag slung over her shoulder, frizzy hair waving around behind her, half-heartedly shoving people out of the way; a scrap of parchment in her hands as she came to a halt in front of them.
'Where were you?' Ron questioned, bluntly.
'Ancient Runes.' She brushed it off.
'But that's impossible. I saw you at the beginning of the Potions exam-' He rambled on, determined to prove that her schedule didn't make sense.
'That's completely besides the point, Ronald.' She snapped, catching her breath - hazel eyes tinged with concern.
'Hermione, what is it?' Ophelia asked shortly, cutting off Ron who had opened his mouth to speak again.
'Buckbeak. They're executing him. Tonight. At sunset.' Hermione breathed between pants, pushing some of her frizzy hair out of her vision.
'But that's impossible! We were supposed to have more time. Why are they doing it so soon?' Harry chimed in.
She shrugged, so she thrust the parchment into his hands - a letter from Hagrid, which Ron and Ophelia read over his shoulder.
They're executing Buckbeak at sunset. Nothing more I can do. Don't come - I don't want any of you to see it.
Hagrid x
Ophelia looked up, shaking her head in denial.
'That's bloody mad.'
'Unfair, more like.'
'How is this even allowed?' Ophelia cut both of the others off - question directed at Hermione.
'I don't know, but the executioner is already here. In the courtyard. There's nothing we can do. It's hopeless.'
'As in hopeless?' Ron piped up, saddened.
'As in hopeless.' Hermione confirmed with a sad nod, hanging her head low - her weeks worth of research and preparation down the drain when she was to find there was nothing she could have done anyway.
'I'm going.' Harry spoke up, abruptly, not at all connected to the others conversation.
'But Hagrid said-' Hermione started, and was immediately silenced by a great big huff from Harry.
'Honestly, Hagrid is our friend. He'll be devastated. We're going. We'll take the cloak so nobody will see us, and we can sit with him after. Okay?'
'Okay.' Hermione nodded, and Ron gave a curt nod in agreement - neither of them fancying the idea of going against Harry.
All eyes trailed over to Ophelia - whom was conflicted. Tonight was the Full Moon; none of them could very well be out after dark, though how was she supposed to explain that? To the friends that knew nothing of it?
'I...uh, erm...'
Harry quirked an eyebrow upwards, 'Well?'
'My, uh, Dad's not feeling well. I was planning on spending some time with him.' She fumbled, gaze cast downwards - though she could feel Hermione's, almost too knowing, eyes.
When her eyes flickered back up, Hermione's were still dead set on hers - tinged with some sort of emotion, which she couldn't quite place, that made her feel oddly vulnerable. It was the same way she felt when Dumbledore could tell what she was thinking.
It was like she knew.
'That's alright.' Hermione finally cut in, hazel eyes still staring straight into Ophelia's honey ones, 'We can go. You aren't supposed to be out anyway. We'll tell Hagrid you wanted to come.'
'Thanks.' Ophelia murmured, nodding slightly, as the group began to walk side-by-side again - internally conflicted between questioning Hermione further, or letting it go.
She had to have been seeing things. There was no way Hermione knew about his condition.
Was there?
June 6th, 1994
6:57 pm
'Oi! Lupin!'
Ophelia whirled around with a sigh - wanting to get away, hoping to get away; but once again George Weasley showing up at the most inopportune times and making that near to impossible.
'Exams go well?' He questioned, as he fell into step beside her - strolling down the corridor after the feast, her other three friends just having left to retrieve the cloak and to set out for Hagrid's.
'Well enough.'
'Snape had his knickers in a knot today, eh?'
'Hm.' She hummed, half in agreement, half in impatience because she truly needed to get away from everybody. From people.
'What about Divination? I hated it in third year.'
'Fine.' She shrugged, 'She's nuts, but I think it went fine.'
'Are you okay?' George asked, abruptly, causing her to look up from her feet - making eye contact.
'Yeah, why?'
'You seem...off.'
'Meaning?'
'You don't seem like you, that's all.' George shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels in front of the portrait hole they had just reached.
'Right. Well, I'm fine.'
'You sure?'
'Course, why wouldn't I be?'
'Dunno, really. If you're good though, I'll see you around I guess.'
'I'm good.' She confirmed, plastering a very much fake smile on her lips, as she ducked through the portrait hole at once and left him out in the corridor.
Off rang in her ears. You seem off. This entire day was off, that was for sure.
June 6th, 1994
7:39 pm
Ophelia paced back and forth in the empty dormitory she had kicked Lavender and Pavarti out of, hands running through her curly black hair, taking quick shallow breaths as she tried to make sense of what was happening.
The moon would be fully risen in just over an hour and a half. Was that enough time for Ron, Hermione and Harry to get back into the castle? Would Fudge and the executioner notice them? Would they see Remus leave?
Remus. God, Remus. How could she possibly explain to him that she let her three friends go out at sunset, so close to moonrise, on a full moon no less? She couldn't, in all honesty. She couldn't possibly come up with a valid answer as to why she'd risk his reputation, his everything, so willingly?
Maybe it had been too easy. Maybe this was the day everything would crumble apart for good. Maybe.
A single tear escaped her eye, which she quickly wiped away from her pale, freckle-dotted cheek; sucking in a deep, ragged breath and exhaling,
'Think. Think. Come on, Ophelia, think.' She muttered, kicking the wooden post on her bed frame, rubbing her hands on her temple and willing for some idea, any idea to come into her mind.
Her train of thought was lost by the sound of a large slice, followed by a thud, and the faint sounds of birds chirping and flying away. Buckbeak was dead. And she didn't need to look to know that - the execution so gruesome she could hear it from all the way up here.
Still, she made her way to the window sometime after, which was propped open slightly - letting in warm, humid air, as her eyes widened to see Dumbledore, the executioner and Fudge entering the castle once more. The executioner with a grin plastered on his face, Fudge looking sickeningly satisfied and Dumbledore looking conflicted - the only one out of the three in genuine remorse.
The sun was near to gone; the sky an array of deep purples and oranges, slowly morphing into the midnight black sky she knew would follow - and then the full moon.
But then she saw something else, or the lack of it more like - her three friends were not headed inside, so her eyes trailed elsewhere; searching for where ever they could be. The cloak surely couldn't fit all of them under it. Where were they?
Her question was answered before she even had time to look. The Whomping Willow was violently whipping it's branches around, like baseball bats, and below it - Ron, being tugged from the feet by Hermione and Harry; but more notably, being dragged into the tunnel by a shaggy black dog as they did their best to recover him.
Sirius.
This was his plan?
She didn't have time to think, or to ponder Sirius' questionable decisions - instead she set off in a sprint with her wand, down the marble stairs, passing quite a few very much confused Gryffindors, exiting the portrait hole and making a mad dash for the only person that it made sense to inform; no matter how much consequence would surely follow.
June 6th, 1994
7:46 pm
Remus Lupin was about to bring a glass of Wolfsbane potion to his lips when Ophelia burst through his office doors; panting, curly black hair a ragged mess as she pushed the strands obscuring her vision out of her face, and stumbled over to where he sat at his desk.
Remus put down the glass at once, standing up, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed in concern as he walked swiftly around the desk to help her catch her breath.
'Are you okay?'
Ophelia shook her head, inhaling deep breaths and exhaling in more shallow ones, panting.
'What's wrong?'
She didn't reply, or couldn't, as she tried to breathe properly.
'Ophelia.' Remus said more firmly, putting his large hands on her shoulders and forcing her to face him - his honey eyes staring into her identical ones which such intensity she hadn't seen in a while, perhaps an effect of the full moon.
She shifted all her weight onto his arms, feeling like she might collapse if he let go - out of exhaustion, both mentally and physically.
'What's wrong? Tell me. Come on, tell me.'
She nodded, and though unsure, she knew she had to go for it. This was her chance. She had no choice, truly.
'It's Sirius.' Ophelia managed to spit out, and she was quick to keep rambling when she saw his expression of confusion,
'It's Sirius. He's innocent. He didn't do anything and he's-he's...' She trailed off, but then looked into Remus' confused, and somehow hurt, eyes and she knew she had to explain. His explanation was long overdue.
And then she remembered Ron, Harry and Hermione - and she picked up the pace.
'He's been living in the Shrieking Shack since February. I lied to you that night he broke in - I did see him. I saw him, I talked to him.'
All the colour drained from his face faster than she thought possible, and she couldn't make much sense of the confusion and overwhelming thoughts flowing through her brain - so instead she did the only logical thing there was to do: she kept explaining.
'I don't know what happened exactly, but he's innocent. I know he is - there's no doubt in my mind about it. The way he talks about you...' She trailed off, a conversation for another time, when Sirius' freedom was at risk.
'He is innocent and I've been visiting him and bringing him food every night I could since that night we met. I should have told you, I know, and I'm sorry I didn't - but we don't have time to argue now. You can lock me away forever when this is over but-'
'When what is over?' Remus asked, sharply, hands still gripping her shoulders - though now, it seemed more like he was using them more to keep himself standing than for her.
'It's Ron. And Hermione. And Harry. Sirius lured them into the Shrieking Shack. He isn't going to hurt them, I'm sure of it, but you have to understand, Dad - they could hurt him. They have no idea he's innocent.' She rambled on, unaware tears were streaming down her face,
'He's innocent.' She weeped, 'You have to help me. Please. I know you're angry, and I'm sorry and I know I'm the worst daughter in the world and if you want I'd understand if you wanted to kick me out or something but I need you to help me. And I think you're the only one that can.'
Remus' face, though white as a ghost, softened slightly at her pleas and he sucked in a breath,
'Stay here.'
'No, I'm coming with you.' She shook her head, wiping her tears, as his arms detached themselves from her shoulders.
'No you aren't.'
'I'm sorry but there's nothing you can do to make me stay, and we're losing time every second you argue with me. Now, are you coming or not?' She demanded, firmly, and Remus had no choice but to oblige as she began to drag him out of his office, both of their wands in hands, as they raced against the clock - the Wolfsbane potion long forgotten.
June 6th, 1994
7:53 pm
The warm air hit their skin the moment they ventured outside - rushing through the courtyard, and towards the Whomping Willow; Ophelia dragging Remus along, both of them gripping their wands firmly as they made their way to the violent tree.
He launched a rock at the core, and the Whomping Willow paused it's violent acts for them to reach the tunnel - jumping down into the dark, dirty and slim route that led to the Shrieking Shack.
Ophelia squeezed his arm abruptly, halting their movements and turning to him, his features barley visible in the dark tunnel. She didn't have to speak for him to understand what she meant.
'Everything will be fine.' He replied, shortly.
'He's innocent.' She murmured, but he didn't reply - only looked away, visibly conflicted and pained at her words.
She hoped he believed her. He had to, or else it was the wrong choice to tell him.
'We have to go.' She spoke up, rambling with renewed determination, as she tugged on his arm once more and began to pull him down the tunnel with such urgency and speed Remus struggled to keep up - she knew it took too long to get to the Shack. Enough time the entire course of the night could change drastically within it.
They reached the all-too familiar trap door soon enough, that they both knew led to the room where Sirius and her friends no doubt were, and he turned; face still white as a ghost, forehead creased, and eyes both tired and pained.
'I want you to stay here.' He informed her, to which she shook her head.
'Let me rephrase, I need you to stay here.'
'And I need to go with you.'
He shook his head, not considering the idea at all, and she huffed.
'They're my friends. And he's...' She trailed off, 'Anyway, I'm going. End of discussion.'
He frowned, glancing up at the trap door and the steps that led to the rotting room; before his eyes flickered back over to her.
'Fine.'
She sighed in relief.
'But I'm going up first.'