I turned around to see Neville standing there, with an older woman by his side"It's us, Neville!" said Ron brightly, getting to his feet "Have you seen? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?"
"Friends of yours, Neville, dear?" said the woman graciously who was bearing down upon us all. I presume this was his grandmother since they had similar features
Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and he was not making eye contact with any of us
"Ah, yes" said his grandmother, looking closely at Harry in particular, and sticking out a shrivelled, clawlike hand for him to shake. "Yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you"
"Er...thanks" Harry replied, shaking hands. Neville did not look at him or us, but surveyed his own feet like a piece of art, the colour deepening in his face
"And you two are clearly Weasleys" Mrs Longbottom continued moving onto Ginny and Ron, shaking their hands "Yes, I know your parents-not well, of course-but fine people, fine people...you must be Hermione Granger?"
Hermione looked rather startled that Mrs. Longbottom knew her name, but shook hands all the same
"Yes, Neville's told me all about you. Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven't you? He's a good boy" she said, casting a sternly appraising look down her rather bony nose at Neville "but be hasn't got his father's talent, I'm afraid to say" And she jerked her head in the direction of the two beds at the end of the ward, so that the stuffed vulture on her hat trembled alarmingly
"What?" said Ron, looking amazed "Is that your dad down the end, Neville?"
"What's this?" said Mrs. Longbottom sharply "Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?" Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling and shook his head
"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of" Mrs. Longbottom said angrily "You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!"
"I'm not ashamed" Neville replied, very faintly, still looking anywhere but at me and the others. Ron was now standing on tiptoe to look over at the inhabitants of the two beds
"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!" Mrs. Longbottom said "My son and his wife" she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and I "were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers"
Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands over their mouths. Ron stopped craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Neville's parents and looked mortified. I, in a way, felt guilty - I mean it was my aunt who had tortured them to insanity
"They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the wizarding community" Mrs Longbottom went on. "Highly gifted, the pair of them. I-yes, Alice dear, what is it?"
Neville's mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. She no longer had the plump, happy looking face I had seen in the old photograph of the original Order. Her face was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions towards Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand
"Again?" said Mrs Longbottom, sounding slightly weary "Very well, Alice dear, very well - Neville, take it, whatever it is"
Neville stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper
"Very nice, dear" said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder
But Neville said quietly "Thanks, Mum"
As the woman was about to walk away she looked up at us and paused. She came over to me and looked me in the eyes
"Andromeda?" She said
"No" I quietly reply "I'm her daughter, Ophelia Black"
Suddenly she then walked away, humming to herself. The others stared at me in shock, especially Neville and his grandmother
"What did you say your name was dear?" She asked looking at me quizzically
"Ophelia Black" I reply slightly scared as the woman looked at me
"Parents?" She questioned raising her eyebrow
"Andromeda Black and -"
"Andromeda as in Sirius Black's twin sister?" She asked
"Yes" A small soft smile settled onto her face as she looked at me
"You know, your mother was great friends with Alice and my son, met her a couple of times" Then she tapped me on the arm "You look just like her, especially with those grey eyes of yours"
From the corner of my eyes I saw Neville furrow his eyebrows. The last time he saw me - I had brown eyes
"Well, we'd better get back" Mrs Longbottom sighed, drawing on long green gloves "Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now"
But as they left, I'm pretty sure that I saw Neville slip the sweet wrapper into his pocket. The door closed behind them
"I never knew" said Hermione, who looked tearful
"Nor did I" said Ron rather hoarsely.
"Nor me" whispered Ginny
Everyone had turned to me and Harry. Him because he hadn't answered and me...well because of what just happened. The guilt and pain all of a sudden started flooding in. I felt my eyes start to water
"Ophelia-"
Before Harry could even finished I whirled around and crashed into his chest. The tears started pouring as I cried. I felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around me, rubbing my back
He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and began leading us all out. We heard Lockhart call something out - presumably wanting us to take his autographs or something. The group of us walked down the stairs returning to Mr Weasley's ward. Kindly, the whole time we walked, Harry comforted me and held me against his side as I cried into my hands. Eventually we reached the ward
"What happened?" I heard Remus' voice growl. He came over putting his hands on my shoulder "Ophelia what's wrong?"
More tears just welled up as I then wrapped my arms around him. He put his arms around me falling into the hug
"So what happened?"
"Umm"
YOU ARE READING
Ophelia || Harry Potter
Fanfiction[BEING GRADUALLY REWRITTEN INTO THIRD PERSON] "The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance" - Aristotle What if this inward significance was being able to create a piece moments before it happen...