Vagary

Chapter 3 The Wise Words of an Elf Ophelia

"Are you listening, deary?" Cordelia Genvick said, tearing Ophelia away from watching the raindrops fall down the car window.

"Sorry, what?" she said, glancing at her.

"Sweetheart, has something happened?" Aunt Cordelia asked. "Did you fight with the Potter boy? I could turn the car around and we can get some ice cream instead."

Ophelia chuckled lightly. "No, we didn't fight," she said softly. "I just have some things on my mind, that's all..."

"Well, hopefully, this little date of yours can help take off whatever is on your mind," Aunt Cordelia said.

"I hope it stops raining by the time we get there," Ophelia said, looking back outside.

As the dark clouds loomed overhead, casting a gloomy shadow, the relentless rain poured down with a ferocious intensity. In the midst of this dreary scene, she clung to the hope that Cordelia's assurance would prove true. Desperately, she yearned for Harry's presence, praying that he would be able to distract her from the daunting task that lay ahead, a task she felt compelled to undertake against her will.

Ever since the unforgiveable task was forced upon her, Ophelia found herself trapped within the four walls of her room, her days slipping away in solitude. She thought this school year to be unlike any other. Her heart longed for happiness, a resolute focus on her studies, and the blissful company of Harry. Graduating from Hogwarts and pursuing her dream of becoming a skilled Potioneer were the aspirations that fueled her every thought.

However, as she pondered the uncertain path that lay ahead, a chilling realization gripped her soul. The loss of the great Albus Dumbledore, a beacon of wisdom and guidance, weighed heavily on her heart. The once unbreakable bond between Harry and Ophelia now seemed irreparably shattered, replaced by a seething animosity. And to her utmost despair, she found herself ensnared in the clutches of darkness, having made a decision she never thought she would. The future appeared bleak, with only one conceivable outcome looming before her eyes: a world where Albus Dumbledore lay deceased, Harry harbored hatred towards her, and she had aligned herself with the treacherous forces of Voldemort.

At the beginning of the summer, she held onto a resolute determination to distance herself from the malevolent clutches of Voldemort. However, as the days unfolded and darkness encroached upon her path, her once steadfast resolve wavered. How could she possibly redirect the course of her own mind when the specter of her own fate loomed ominously before her? The weight of her actions, and the consequences that awaited, threatened to shatter any hope of happiness with Harry. The agonizing truth gnawed at her soul, for she knew all too well the devastating pattern that seemed to follow her. Once again, she feared becoming the harbinger of tragedy, causing the demise of yet another person Harry held dear. The future seemed cloaked in shadows, and the prospect of finding solace and redemption appeared increasingly elusive.

Ophelia found herself trapped in a familiar and agonizing predicament, much like the year before. Her heart and mind were locked in a relentless battle, torn between conflicting emotions and choices. However, unlike the previous year where there was a glimmer of hope, this time, a sense of impending doom loomed over her. It seemed as though fate had already determined her path, leaving her feeling helpless and resigned to a grim destiny.

"Oxford Street, is that correct?" Cordelia said, snapping Ophelia out of her thoughts once again.

"Y-yeah," Ophelia stuttered.

"We're here then," Cordelia said happily, unbuckling her seat belt.

"Whoa--what are you doing?" Ophelia said, scrambling to unbuckle her own belt.