╰┈➤ regulus black x oc
❝ you're bleeding. ❞
❝ why thank you for pointing out the obvious, potter. ❞
☄. *. ⋆ in which ophelia potter's life is struck by a wizarding war, the death of her parents, and the bombshell that is her death eater ex, regulus...
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ophelia euphemia potter could never catch a break. at age twenty four, she was already flirting with the seductive concept which was retirement; she, to be blunt, couldn't do this shit anymore. a notable mention to her incoming stress was the fact that her profession of choice had been to become an auror. three years wasted on auror training, just to get a job under alastor moody that frankly, was less glory and gratification– more gore and gloom than anything.
in the middle of that period, her parents had passed. rest in piece, fleamont and euphemia potter, you tried your best to raise unproblematic children.
with that came the matter of the will; a fifty-fifty split of inheritance between herself, and her twin, james potter. it was like their parent's love, always divided, but at least it was somewhat equal; if it wasn't for the house. the potter manor in godric's hollow had been where she had grown up, broke her first bone, gotten her first pet, and now for her, it was just a haunting of memories of times foregone.
she didn't need the manor. what would she use it for? filling rooms upon rooms with useless trinkets and memorabilias of her academic achievements? no, that would be a waste.
ophelia wasn't starting a family, like her brother james was. james and lily could fill the space with happy memories, new stories, without dwelling on the old ones. she however, could not fathom it. was growing up not all about letting go of the attachments of youth?
perhaps she took it too literally, as she took a turn and moved to london, where she now resided, blissfully alone.
she said blissfully, but as an extrovert at heart, it was a form of self-inflicted social torture.
but then there was the rise of the dark side.
voldemort (come on, only those without the balls to would address him as anything other than his name), as he called himself, had ulterior motives than that of the ministry of magic themselves, who were already corrupt enough as it was...it almost made millicent bagnold's political image look like that of a saint in dark times.
blood purity.
two simple words with a meaning that caused so many people so much unneeded strife. she was a pureblood, as she was very much aware, but her family were considered 'blood traitors', for simply not wanting to be a group of cunts who's only personality trait was who their great grandparents were.
the sacred 28...who really cares?
no matter her opinions however, it had to be said that wizarding war was not a simple thing. waging a war was devastating, but keeping a war away from muggle eyes in the margins of wizarding society was also capable of taking a major toll on the lives of so many.
you would have to pretend everything was normal, live your day to day life, with the lingering reality that you could die at any moment, or the notion that one day, you would return after work to an empty home.
so ophelia kept her home empty, as a precaution.
the thing about being in your twenties in a period of wizarding siege, was that no one was sure how long they were going to live, so everyone was living at double speed, settling down and starting families with what they still had.
ophelia herself was rather behind. she just sat back and watched as inexplicably, everyone she had once associated with slowly created homes, filled with the warm glow of happiness, laughter, tradition, a future– while her only real concern was what she was to eat for dinner, if at all.
her brother james and her best friend lily evans, no, lily potter, had a son around four years prior, a little boy by the name of harry. her nephew, as hard as the concept was to fathom, as she herself never really felt as if she'd truly grown up. he was a troubling lad, only because voldemort seemed to have it out for the child; something that dumbledore had mentioned in passing about a prophecy, which he never expanded on. the average order of the phoenix experience.
her friend, now acquaintance, martine zabini had married, birthed a son, then her husband had mysteriously died of an illness the same year. on to the next man.
pandora rosier had married xeno lovegood, and had an adorable daughter called luna, one that had sparked a brief motherly affection in ophelia herself, before getting a hold of herself. having children was too much trouble, and she had no desire to excrete a fetus from her body, ever.
the most melancholic part of attending all these hasty, intimate weddings and family dinners, baby showers and birthday parties, was the pungent reality that she had not expected to be alone.
that always brought her back to the conceptualization of regulus arcturus black, or as she liked to refer to him, that soddy minger.
or as he was technically supposed to be known as, her ex boyfriend.
it was weird that she'd ever really considered having a life with him in it, considering how now, they were polar opposites in everything, from beliefs, to sides in the conflict. because no matter how she tried to view the conflict as a tragedy and a whole, there were sides. not particularly good and evil, because neither side was truly good. they simply had beliefs, and these beliefs varied in their degrees of harm.
he was a death eater. she was an auror.
these days, being a death eater was no longer something you'd really hide. they'd roam the streets, and you'd just have to turn corners to avoid them, withhold from eye contact that could be perceived as a threat.
the criteria you needed to check to get your ass dumped by ophelia potter were quite simple.
1) be a blood purist.
2) be a cheater.
3) be a shit person.
4) burn down her kitchen.
5) be a death eater.
6) have a boss whose life purpose is to kill her nephew.
unfortunately for regulus black, by the time they had split three years ago, he had hit one, four, five, six, and a little bit of three. in the end, they were different people who wanted different things in life, due to what was expected of them from their varying ends of society. her morals kept her from loving him fully. his legacy made him feel scorn.
that was not to say the split was not messy.
it was bitter, loud, and filled with threats of violence– and what put the cherry on top of the whole matter, was that it was unplanned. as far as she was really concerned, she wanted nothing to do with him anymore. he was dead to her.
without him, she was lonely, yes, but she could catch a break. a break without the lingering guilt, that her lover held beliefs that went against her morals, and what she was hoping to change within the span of her life.
good things always ended in travesty, at least in her experience.
as she would soon find out, peace, was just as far out of her reach as it had been in the past; but at least the universe didn't make her life boring. right?
╰┈➤ author's note ; hello, and welcome to a new book :) i don't have much to say to be honest, i don't know how long this is going to last-- but at least the aesthetics are slaying.
