immortality [wizarding world] | ⚐

十

the start of something else

"Let me reiterate – you're telling me that Merlin – Merlin Ambrosius – set up a rendezvous with you tomorrow because he's interested to see you again?" Ophelia exclaimed, her brown curls buzzing with excitement.

"Do you – do you know him?" Mathilda asked shyly.

"Do I know Merlin Ambrosius?" Ophelia roared, her demeanour resembling one of a lion. She took a deep breath, and, remembering that Mathilda went to Beauxbatons for her education, launched herself into his story. "He-went-to-Hogwarts-around-the-same-time-as-me-he-is-a-genius-in-magic-he's-something-else-I'm-telling-you –" Mathilda, who had only studied English for a year, had no idea what Ophelia was going on about. Ophelia continued to wave her arms around, looking a little crazed.

For someone who's a bit of a prodigy for wands, Mathilda thought, as she watched Ophelia prance around. She's a tad insane.

But then again – aren't all the best people a fairly deranged? Asked the little voice inside of her head.

"So!" Ophelia exclaimed suddenly, breaking Mathilda's train of thought. "Do you understand why he's so important?"

"Oh, um..." Ophelia glared at her. "Y-Yes. I understand." Mathilda finished quickly.

"Good, because – pray tell me, how old are you again?" Ophelia asked.

"T-twenty-seven this winter."

"Well! It's about time you got married then." Ophelia huffed. "Merlin is thirty-one, I believe."

Mathilda was about to comment that Ophelia was thirty-three and unmarried, but decided against it. Mathilda did not really care for the norms of ages of marriage. She thought they were too glorified and that love shouldn't be rushed anyways.

"Ophelia... I do hope you do not believe that I am going to elope with Mr. Ambrosius." Mathilda said, sounding suspicious of Ophelia's intentions.

"No, no, not at all..." she said, distractedly. "Matter-of-factly, I should be going back to my work... Heartstring... Peruvian Vipertooth, you see, with sycamore..." She mumbled as she headed back to her workplace.

"All right, I suppose I will be seeing of you later, then?" Mathilda called out to her retreating friend.

"Can't suppose it'll be too dangerous with willow, either..." Ophelia continued to speak indistinctly, and Mathilda chuckled as she left the shop.

◦

As Mathilda watched the lazy sun beginning its descent into the green hills by the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she sighed happily. Today had been a marvelous day for her – she had even forgotten the dream she had the night before. After visiting Ophelia, she had gone for a stroll around the Hogwarts grounds, once again admiring its beauty. She had then had a lovely chat with the Merpeople (as lovely as the Merpeople could get) in the Black Lake, as she had studied the language out of pure interest when she was a child.

Now, Mathilda sat by the window, and sipped at her tea and gazed out to the scene before her eyes. She did not think of the darkness of her life – the sense of foreboding death that seemed to have followed her ever since she had contracted the virus, or her heart aching for her family. No, Mathilda sat by the window and thought of Merlin Ambrosius, the stars, what wand Ophelia was crafting, Merlin Ambrosius, and owls (she had always wanted an owl, but her poor health had caused her to be allergic to its feathers). She lifted her gaze up to the sky, and the stars shined brighter than ever as the sun continued to sink.