Sequel: Thick Smoke
Status: Trying

Through Her Eyes

A Series of Unfortunate Events

“That boy is such a twat! How could he play a joke on you right from the first night?”

That was only one of the few waves of complaints that Ophelia faced when she opened the door to her room. The girls chose their usual beds and brought even more stuff to place around, especially Cissney.

“It didn’t seem like he did it intentionally.” Alice reasoned, seeing how much it affected Potter afterwards.

“Then why did he levitate that piece of cake, hm?”

No one knew, not even the culprit. Ophelia couldn’t help but chuckle under her hand, though. It was funny how his plan backfired to the point Cissney would never let him sit next to Lily, or anywhere close.

Luckily, the subject changed to better and happier chats about each other’s families and summer breaks.   

“I swear to you, muggles have these crazy theater pieces where they use puppets!” Cissney explained, her wide eyes glistening with curiosity, “Afterwards, my mum took me and my brother to see a fat lady singing on an improvised stage. It was incredibly well done compared to how it looked.”

“It’s called opera. My mum likes it too.” Ophelia added, “I have never heard music from wizards. Is it the same? Do they sing about the same things?”

“Of course! Love is one of the best subjects to approach in any type of music. Here,” Cissney got off bed and searched for something through her trunk. When she finally found it, she brought it on Ophelia’s bed and turned it on with her wand.

“This is a radio,” Lily mumbled, surprised that it looked pretty much the same as a muggle’s radio.

“It’s actually called wireless. This program right now it’s called Witching Hour and,” Cissney turned up the volume, the song recently played filling the dormitory, “This singer is Celestina Warbeck. My mum and grandma knows her so she’s been around for a while.”

Alice and Lily rolled their eyes but Ophelia leaned closer and listened to Celestina’s voice.

“Mommy, what’s this?” The little girl asked, pointing at the small object on the fireplace.

“It’s my favorite singer, Celestina Warbeck. When I was at school, your father would turn the wireless on and let me listen to it until I’d fall asleep. Even back then, he would protect his interests very well.” Lillian told her daughter, “Your father, he’s a peculiar man, Ophelia. He won’t look at you but he will search for your gifts and exploit them until you will be left with nothing. You’ll have to return to him again and again because without an aim in life, he’s the only one that can fill that emptiness.” Lillian added staring at the fire burning, her green eyes looking like two crystals.


When Ophelia looked up, the girls were laughing about something while the program changed and a different voice was informing the witches and wizards of a troll patrol forming in Wales.

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It was long past midnight when Ophelia rolled on her side, not able to sleep. She sighed heavily before she rolled on her other side and covered her head with the pillow. She groaned when nothing worked and a few minutes later, she tip toed out of the dormitory and down into the common room. Surprisingly enough, there was a black kitten standing in the middle of the room, staring at something above the fireplace.

“Hello,”

The kitten turned his head and glanced at her before he turned his attention back on the fireplace. Ophelia blinked, surprised how a kitten sneaked inside the common room.

“Are you someone’s cat?” Ophelia asked, walking next to it.

She tried to find the reason why the kitten was so focused on the fireplace but there was nothing out of ordinary. The brunette leaned forward and scanned every picture placed both in front and in the back. There was one with three people, one in particular looking very familiar. Then she understood as she pulled it from in the far back and looked at it.

“Mum?” She whispered, not ready to see her mother’s face.

But there she was, Lillian, with long red hair and sparkling green eyes. She was smiling next to a boy with even brighter red hair and dimples. He was handsome and it looked like they were very close. Ophelia turned the picture around and read the inscription.

“I’ll always protect you so be sure to help me pass Transfiguration,” Ophelia chuckled before she turned it around so she could take another look at her mother.

“Your father is a peculiar man, Ophelia.”

If Tom was indeed her father, then what was their relationship during school? It looked like Lillian was closer to her house mate rather than her boyfriend. It was so complicated.

Morning found Ophelia sleeping on the armchair. The sunlight coming through the windows was not enough to wake her up but once Potter woke up, everyone did.

“How can you be so loud so early in the morning?” Ophelia whined, jolting from her seat so fast that Potter almost fell backwards in surprise.

“What in Merlin’s beard are you doing here? Have you slept here?” He asked, his eyes widening behind those round glasses.

Ophelia scoffed before she got up and walked up the stairs to her dormitory.

“Wait! Wait~” If he thought he was whispering, he wasn’t. “Is Evans still mad about last night?”

Ophelia scoffed again before she closed the door and prepared for the first day of school.

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“So, had a good night, badge?” Potter asked as soon as he sat down next to her, “I’m sure you must have had such a great time sleeping on that armchair. Was it a nightmare that kept you up?”

It was annoying and hearing him talk while at the same time eating was even worse. He almost spat some toast on her plate while asking and asking and asking.

“Why did you sleep on the armchair? Did you really have a nightmare?” Remus asked once Sirius came down for breakfast.

Potter was so involved into explaining to his friend what idea came over him during the summer break that he almost spat again over her plate.

“Yes. Well, not exactly. I found a kitten in the common room.” She explained, glancing at her plate before pushing it slowly away.

“A kitten? Is it a first year’s?”

Ophelia shrugged, not curious about that part of news. As soon as he dressed in her robes that morning, she hid her mother’s picture in the pocket and hoped she’d get a chance to ask Spinnard about it.

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“There has to be a mistake!”

“There’s no mistake, Potter. Now, take your timetable and follow your classmates to the dungeons.” Professor McGonagall said firmly, her eyes staring down at the messy haired boy.

Ever since they got their timetables, the Great Hall was engulfed in complaints. The reason was really simple: they had DADA every Monday and Friday which was literally eating up their weekend.

“But professor, we’ll have enough homework as it is and there’s Quidditch too! Professor Spinnard will bury us in homework and we’ll have no weekend!” Potter continued, being just as lousy as ever.

“Be sure I will, Potter.” Spinnard’s cold voice silenced the Gryffindor immediately, “I’m sure the whole castle knows how unfair you feel by now. I assure you, every one of you, that you will respect the deadlines or else you will suffer consequences.” Spinnard added, his blue eyes falling over every second year, especially Ophelia. Seeing her there, as if nothing was happening in the shadows, was annoying. The professor sneered before he walked right through the middle of the crowd and left the Great Hall.

“Well, good luck. Go now! You have classes!” McGonagall broke the silence, sensing the intense hatred rising between her students and the young professor.

“But professor~” Black whined while watching McGonagall usher some of them towards the door.

“Now, Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, I know professor Spinnard is a great instructor in defence against the dark arts. You better follow his advice.” She said before she too left her students adrift.

Half of the Gryffindors were grumpily walking out with their timetables held tightly, almost as if squeezing them would hurt Spinnard. Potter and Black stayed back, both having the same look of desperation, knowing that Spinnard was more of a memorize the lesson professor than actually using the information actively.

“You shouldn’t look so pitiful already. It’s just the first Monday of a series of unfortunate beginnings and endings of the week. I’m sure Spinnard will do everything he can to make us uncomfortable. He hates people, moreover children.” Ophelia spoke nonchalantly, as if her words didn’t cut deep in their hopeful hearts.