𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟔𝟎 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

╔ ————————————————————╗

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, and death 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 -- 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 -- 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 <𝟹

╚ ———————————————————╝

The Great Hall was crowded, there was not a single metre that wasn't occupied: living or dead it didn't matter, lying down on the ground or standing up, they all appeared the same to her, all were panicked and grieving, looking for impossible answers in the void. But there were too many bodies, yet the ratio was wrong, the living outnumbered the dead -- there were three alive for every dead person.

Yet, her father was lying there, still as the grave with a wisened smile still on his face, as though he had merely dozed off after a rather cosy mug of tea.

It was hard to believe that he wouldn't jolt awake if she were to try to rouse him.
But her personal tragedies had yet to cease, for lying beside him in the dust were her beloved cousins. Poppy whose strawberry blonde hair was matted and washed out with a combined mixture of blood and soot and Vivian, who
looked a lot bloodier, yet she were as pale as milk beneath the dried patches of blood.

Ophelia stared at them, completely horrorstruck at the thought that their last moments were pained and brutal.

Standing above them was her remaining surviving cousin Eleanor, whose face looked exactly how Ophelia was feeling, the guilt and grief riddled her, put her in a state of numbing agony.

"What happened?" Ophelia barely managed to whisper as she took Eleanor's shaking hand.

"We were fighting by the Hospital Wing and someone threw this horrid curse on Poppy, it broke her wand and her arm," said Eleanor's hoarse voice, "We were outnumbered so we decided to make a run for it but Poppy was scared, she froze, Vivian grabbed ahold of her to pull her away and we were.... we almost got to the Order when...." Eleanor let out a shuddering cry, as Ophelia put her arm around her shoulders to comfort her, "Uncle Floyd.... her own father, he called out to Vivian — but she didn't — she didn't turn around so he... hit Vivian with a curse to her back.... her own father killed her... and she was holding onto Poppy so tightly that they both fell... they... I couldn't stop him from getting to Poppy... I just ran, like a coward I ran, I left her there — I thought they'd leave her be if she pretended to be dead already but —"

Ophelia shushed her as she comforted Eleanor, quietly using a soothing charm to ease Eleanor's hoarse breathing.

She saw a bloody handprint around Poppy's wrist right next to Vivian's bloody hand, Ophelia shuddered, Vivian had been pulling her to safety — she let out a pained breath at the thought of them running to safety, only to be murdered with their backs turned — she clutched onto Eleanor, trying to pull her arms around her tight enough that she wouldn't feel the crushing pain of guilt in her chest.

"You can do something can't you?" begged Eleanor tearily as she looked at Ophelia with bright red eyes, the hope wasn't spared in her voice, "You can bring them back?"

Ophelia glanced around, there wasn't any ghosts around that shared bared any resemblance or anyone shouting sarcastic comments or rushing to braid her hair.