The Angel of Death

𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 11

"Lia, wake up," Harry whispered, shaking his sister's shoulder gently. 

Ophelia turned around, her glowing hair falling over her shoulder as she opened her eyes, "What's wrong, Harry?"

"We'll get the letters today," Harry said softly, glancing out of the window, "You said we should wake up early so we can take them before the Dursleys can."

She sat up with a sigh, looking at the clock, "Did you hear the mailman?"

Harry nodded and Ophelia closed her eyes, murmuring a soft 'Accio.' He grinned as two letters zoomed into their room, landing in the bed between them.

"You've become flawless at wandless magic," he said, admiration evident in his voice.

"Well, I have Death's knowledge and the Mistress of Death's powers," Ophelia said, examining the letters carefully, "It would be rather shameful if I wasn't flawless. You are much more admirable, Harry. You can do wandless magic to a level adults cannot without the advantages I have."

Harry smiled happily at the praise, "I wonder why wandless magic isn't taught everywhere," he said quietly, "It takes a while, yes, but won't it be a lot easier for everyone if they knew how to do it?"

"That's because people have bound themselves, thinking that wandless magic can only be done by the most powerful," Ophelia smiled gently, tapping his forehead with her finger, "We didn't. The only limit was our mind."

Harry quietened when Ophelia scowled, her hands glowing as she held them over the letters.

"Compulsion charms?" he asked in a whisper.

Ophelia nodded, "Compulsions to make us loyal to the British wizarding community and nudges to avert us from studying and questioning."

"Dumbledore," Harry growled, his jaw clenching, "That man wants to control us. Is he averting us from studying because he doesn't want us to learn too much?"

She didn't reply other than a nod, breaking the seal of the letter and opening it to read with Harry.

"Lia...," Harry trailed off, "I've been wondering for a while, but we use wandless magic really often, right? Why aren't we being arrested by Aurors?"

"Because we haven't had a wand registered under our name yet," Ophelia replied promptly, "Ergo, all magic we do is considered accidental magic. The Ministry uses magic to automate all this, hence why our continuous use isn't obvious."

Harry frowned slightly, "So does that mean once we get our wands, we won't be able to do magic here?"

"I have a plan for that," she smiled at him gently, "Don't worry."

He looked at her quietly, then smiled back, resting his head on her shoulder, "Diagon Alley today, then?"

"After breakfast," Ophelia said, rubbing her hand in his hair, "And pack everything of value. We won't be returning here."

"What?" Petunia gasped, turning pale, "What do you mean you won't come back?"

"Exactly what I said," Harry said bluntly, picking up his and Ophelia's plate, "We're leaving and we won't be returning."

He turned around, looking over his shoulder to give the three Dursleys a dismissive look, "And please expect a note from Gringotts soon. Ophelia and I will be taking back any child support money you have been given, seeing that you never used it for our benefit, did you?"

Vernon slammed his hand on the table angrily, "YOU FREAKS!"

"Yes, we're freaks," Harry turned around, his eyes glowing green (a trick he had learnt from Lia), "Freaks with power you can only imagine. If I were you, I would start scrambling for funds. Gringotts isn't forgiving to those who mistreat children, you know?"

He walked up to his room where Ophelia was meditating, pleased with the despair that overtook their faces. 

He entered the room, his steps silent as he placed their breakfast on the table and shook Ophelia from her meditation, "When will you stop making me your spokesperson?" he asked playfully, handing her the plate.

"I don't like speaking to insignificant insects," she murmured, "And you enjoy putting people in their places. I don't see why you are complaining."

Harry rolled his eyes with a smile, sitting beside her to eat. She was weirdly silent.

"Lia?" he said gently, "What's wrong? You've been rather... quiet the past few days."

Ophelia pursed her lips, then quietly said, "I'll be killing people."

Harry's breath caught in his throat.

"I'll be murdering, stealing, and manipulating," she continued, "And I don't feel any guilt or sadness, perhaps because of Death's knowledge, perhaps because of my knowledge of the past and future, I don't know."

She met his eyes carefully, "I don't want to involve you in the violence. Not until you're at least 16."

Harry exhaled and nodded, "That would be wise," he admitted, "I don't think I can handle seeing death or gore."

"I don't think I could have handled it either if I didn't have this knowledge pool," Ophelia agreed softly, "But Death really didn't hold back in his sharing, not even the wars and tortures. Being a deity, his moral values are rather skewed. He did apologize when he realized, though."

He set his plate aside and hugged her tightly.

She had grown up faster than she should have. She knew things others didn't, she saw things she should never have.

But she did it all. For him. To make sure that they wouldn't suffer manipulations.

"I'll be your alibi and cover, then," he said, forcing cheer in his voice, "I imagine you might need one with all the crimes you'll be committing."

Ophelia threw her head back and laughed and Harry could actually feel his heart hurt with the amount of love he felt for his little sister.

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