Serpent Lady

Ophelia awoke with the sunrise the next morning and immediately leapt out of bed, sleep quickly releasing her body. She ruffled Duvessa's feathers fondly before running to the next room to wake Darcy.

She stopped dead in her tracks as the door swung open, revealing an empty room. An envelope sat on the bed, her name scrawled in black ink. She forgot about spells, ripping the envelope open and unfolding the single sheet of parchment.

My Darling,

I thought it would be easier this way. No goodbyes, no tears, just a promise that now we never have to be apart. Remember what I told you. I am with you for all eternity.

Love always,

D.

She collapsed onto the bed, the piece of parchment clutched in her hand, and reached up to wipe the single tear from her cheek. She no longer felt sadness or disappointment...just a sense of completion she had never felt before.

She slowly made her way back to her room, placed the letter tenderly in her bag, and jumped into the shower, savoring the steam and scalding water as it pinkened her porcelain skin. She exited the shower tingling and refreshed by her mint shampoo and body wash, and ran a wide-toothed comb through her masses of thick hair, separating the locks into individual spirals. In lieu of gel or other products, she muttered a few words to ensure a day-long perfect coiffure, and then seized her toothbrush. As she brushed, she studied herself in the mirror. She was not a vain girl, but she was happy with what she saw. Long, black, spiky lashes framed her vibrant, luminous emerald eyes. Elegant eyebrows flared aristocratically, tapering to perfect points. Her small nose was straight and smooth, her unblemished skin a creamy, glowing porcelain, her lips red and slightly pouty. Her high cheekbones and heart-shaped face came directly from her mother, but the long, graceful neck, willowy frame, and aristocratic poise were bequeathed to her by her father's side of the family. Her hair fell about her face, parting naturally in the middle and tumbling down around her towel-wrapped body to her waist.

She finished her tooth-brushing, and glided back into her bedroom to dress. She slipped into her favorite shirt, a sheer black blouse with ties at the neck and sleeves that were fitted to the elbows before spilling open into huge wizard sleeves. She pulled on a pair of wide-legged black trousers, laced her favorite boots up to mid-calf, and clipped on her pewter chandelier necklace with tiny dangling emeralds. She took one last glance in the mirror before shrugging on her small black dragon-hide bag and picking up Duvessa's pewter cage. She trotted down the stairs and set the cage down on the table. Her parents both looked up in surprise to see her down so early, but shared an affectionate look.

"I suppose I'm to fetch your trunk now?" asked Damien huffily, winking just to remind her that he was kidding. He headed up the stairs, patting Ophelia on the shoulder on his way past.

Silvia approached her daughter, a small jewelry box in her hands. "Darling, I'd like you to wear these," she said quietly, flipping open the lid to reveal a beautiful pair of dangly pewter earrings studded with tiny emeralds. Ophelia gasped, holding one up and marveling at its exquisite craftsmanship.

"My mother gave them to me before she died," said Silvia, her eyes moist. "I want you to wear them now."

Ophelia's eyes bored into her mother's, but she said nothing, merely removing the small, dark silver hoops from her lowest holes and replacing them with the new earrings. "Thank you," she said simply, hugging her mother fiercely. Silvia held her back to study her, tapping her on the nose gently before moving her hand across to Ophelia's left ear where she traced her index finger along Ophelia's several piercings, pausing to admire the pewter-colored chain that dangled from her cartilage piercing before looping back up to attach to the stud that resided in her second-lowest hole. Her right ear held no such chain, as she slept on her right side, but it boasted just as many piercings, bringing the total up to seven in each ear.

"I do hope the other children won't be afraid of your somewhat alternative tendencies, my love," she teased.

Ophelia grinned. "What did they think of yours?" she asked, staring pointedly at her mother's own multiply-pierced ears.

"Touché," Silvia replied, laughing. "Besides, your hair covers your ears most of the time anyhow..."

"Are we ready?" asked an amused voice from the stairs. Damien was standing there, his traveling cloak covering his broad shoulders. Although it was only about nine o'clock and the train wasn't set to depart until eleven, they had a rather complex journey ahead of them. Since the Ravenscrofts were generally very secretive people, they never Floo'd directly to their destination. Instead, they would travel to a Floo network deep under Edinburgh, the closest city to their home. From there, they would travel to the Floo nework in London, and then on to a café near King's Cross Station, where her father would meet them after Portkeying with her luggage. His journey was to be equally as tedious - he had to travel four miles from their home into the nearest village, from where the Portkey was set to activate.

Ophelia took one last look around, shouldered her bag, blew a kiss to Duvessa, and smiled. "Let's go!" she said excitedly.

About an hour later, the three were reunited at the café where they ate a quick breakfast of scones and fresh juice before making the trek to the station.

Once there, and with her large trunk and Duvessa's cage settled on a cart, Ophelia's innards began to flutter. She was actually going to Hogwarts! She'd been waing for this moment her entire life, and she wanted to remember everything. She was so engrossed in looking around, she didn't notice her mother's tearful face or the pained look in her father's eyes. She paused in front of the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten, remembering what her parents had told her, and squinched her eyes shut, throwing her entire body forward as she pushed her cart straight into the wall...

...and out the other side. She stopped dead, looking around in wonder at the huge, scarlet steam engine that shone merrily as its steam billowed up into the air, nearly obscuring her view of the sign that read "Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock".

She remembered herself quickly, moving away from the archway just behind her just as her parents came through.

"Well, Lia?" her mother asked, her eyes twinkling. "What do you think?"

"It's wonderful," Ophelia replied, moving forward to the edge of the platform and reading the "Hogwarts Express" sign with huge eyes. She began to move toward the back of the train; finding the very last compartment empty, she lifted Duvessa's cage and took it and her small bag inside, setting them down carefully before exiting the train to help her father with her trunk. Once it, too, was settled in the compartment, Ophelia stepped back out of the train and examined her parents, who gazed back at her with such love and pride in their eyes.

"We love you, darling," her mother said quietly, pulling her daughter into a warm embrace. Ophelia hugged back, tears springing to her eyes.

"I love you too, Mum," she whispered, feeling far more sad about this parting than she possibly could have dreamed.

Her mother released her, and Ophelia was immediately borne into her father's embrace. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with his fresh, musky scent mixed with a hint of fresh from his cologne, and she felt as if she was going to cry.

"And we'll miss you," said Damien, stroking his only daughter's hair and wishing he never had to let go. Ophelia felt her moistened eyes finally begin to leak, and she gave in with a flood of tears. Her father held her tighter, and her mother kneeled to put her arms around Ophelia as well. The small family pressed together in complete silence, and Ophelia thought she had never felt so vulnerable in her whole life.

After a few moments, her mother released her, followed closely by her father. Ophelia ran a hand across her eyes, wiping up the last of her tears, and smiled bravely at her parents, who smiled encouragingly. "We will write you often, darling," they promised, and Ophelia nodded.

"And I you," she replied. She blew a kiss to both parents, afraid that if she touched them again, she would never want to let go, and turned to board the train. As she settled herself in, the train started to move, and she looked out the window to see her parents waving after her, Damien's arm securely around Silvia's waist. She smiled, knowing that theyh would take care of each other and would not be sad for long, and waved back to them until Platform 9 3/4 disappeared from sight.

She sighed contentedly, settling back into her seat and extracted Advanced and Archaic Potions from her bag. She had just flipped it open to her bookmar when someone cleared his throat.

She jumped, realizing for the first time that there was someone else in the compartment with her, and was surprised when she recognized the familiar storm-gray eyes and silver-blond hair.

"Hello again," he said, his eyes studying her somewhat gothic attire, her unbound hair, and then returning to her face. "Ravenscraft, was it?"

"Ravenscroft," she replied quietly, stuffing her book back into her bag. "Ophelia Ravenscroft."

"Ravenscroft then," he repeated, musing over the feel of the name in his mouth. "I am--"

"Draco Malfoy," she interrupted. "I remember."

His lips curled into a somewhat surprised smile, seemingly pleased that she remembered his name. She was about to speak again, when she noticed that his smile had broadened to a sneer. She felt her face suffuse with angry heat, but she realized that he was no longer looking at her. She followed his gaze to the compartment door, where two large, oafish brutes were leering at her. Draco beckoned to them with an imperious gesture, and the door slid open. He stood, gesturing to the two boys.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle," he said offhandedly, his gesture unclear enough so she couldn't tell which was which.

"Nice to meet you," she forced out, although this was far from the truth - there was no pleasantry in the boys' faces; in fact, they seemed to be undressing her with their eyes, which made her feel painfully uncomfortable.

"This is Ravenscroft," he introduced her, his voice filled with a practiced neutrality. She smiled weakly as Crabbe - or was it Goyle? - moved to sit beside her Draco sat back down as well, the other boy sitting next to him, and leaned back lazily, apparently enjoying her discomfort. The boy next to her moved to put his hand on her leg, and she froze, a disgusted look on her face.

"Now, now, Crabbe," Draco drawled, "we don't want to make the young lady uncomfortable...yet."

Ophelia's eyes flashed green sparks, and she stood up, forcefully pushing Crabbe away from her. She smiled sweetly at Draco, although her teeth were clenched so hard, her jaw throbbed.

"Draco," she said in a slightly sing-song voice, "it's awfully crowded in here." She glanced meaningfully at the two boys, and Draco's face lost all its warmth in an instant. She stared. For such a handsome boy, he could certainly look ugly.

He stood, gesturing curtly to his lackeys. "Let's go," he said, his voice filled with ice. "Ravenscroft wishes to be left alone."

Ophelia started to protest, having only wanted the two brutes to leave so she could chat with Draco, but at the look on his face, she closed her mouth instantly. He shooed Crabbe and Goyle out, and turned to shoot her one last look of...contempt? Lust? Hurt? She couldn't tell. Apparently, the years had taught him to cultivate his expressions so they all sort of blended together, effectively showing very little emotion. She studied his face for an instant, and almost gasped as she saw a flicker of apology residing there. She had years of practice reading expressionless people - her father's side of the family was German Aristocracy as well as being descended from a long line of wizarding ancestry, and they prided themselves on never betraying their emotions - so she knew apology when she saw it. Aristocrats never apologize, her grandfather's voice said in her ear, and she knew the Malfoys were effectively aristocrats of the wizarding world, as much as the Ravenscrofts.

The door clicked shut and she heard the sound of retreating footsteps. She was thoroughly irritated by Draco's - no, Malfoy's - behavior, although that hint of apology she had seen comforted her, making her think there was still a good, kind person underneath his horrible exterior. Her father's words came floating back to her: "I would imagine he'll probably put on a façade of some sort, probably a hateful one, so befriending him won't be the easiest thing in the world..."

Dad, you have no idea, she thought to herself, glancing out the window and grimacing. She took three deep, relaxing breaths, trying to calm her fiery temper, and swung her legs up onto the cushioned bench, extracting her book from her bag and placing it across her knees. She quickly forgot all about Malfoy as she engrossed herself in her book.