Ophelia Lane

OPHELIA LANE

Ophelia Lane was hit with a shockwave of deafening cheers and boisterous chants of her name. She paused for a moment and looked at the stadium holding its capacity of thousands of magic-folk eagerly awaiting her with baited breath. Her mind dived into the sea of lights shining from tips of wands that lay before her. She began to sing a note soft and sweet. She had everyone's attention in the palm of her hand. From that starting note, she began singing a chant. Everyone whistled and cheered. She always opened her concerts with the Wytches Chant. She repeated it twice. Then her backing singers joined in to harmonise. Everyone was mesmerised.

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Then the power chord of an electric guitar, igniting a magnificent burst of fireworks and light, sliced the tension of the crowd and the entire stadium erupted a thunder that rivalled an earthquake. Ophelia Lane sang to her maximum, booming her powerful voice to her audience, performing a distorted rock sound so raw it was painful and a quartet of strings that was sweet as saccharine venom. She danced all over the stage, sometimes crazy-like other times provocatively. She was the greatest performer ever to grace an audience in this moment in time.

She was Ophelia Lane.

***

Harry, Hermione and Ron were staggered away from the stadium after the concert had ended.

'That was bloody-fucking-awesome!' croaked Ron hoarsely whose voice was lost from screaming so much. Hermione nodded slightly in agreement. She couldn't talk. She could barely move. She was blown away, absolutely spellbound. As for Harry, his heart was still doing paroxysms, and he could barely sustain a single breath. He looked at them both.

'I have to meet her,' he wheezed.

'Every male wants to meet her after tonight,' Hermione whispered, coming out of her sedation.

'You could meet her, you know,' rasped Ron, 'because you're Harry Potter. And if you do manage to sneak into her room, take me too!'

'Thanks Ron, am I no longer good enough for you?' scoffed Hermione.

'Of course you are, I still love you,' he answered immediately.

'Well I hope I can make you pant as much as she did,' she said. Ron grinned and grabbed her hand and pulled her into him. He kissed her neck. She was slipping back into her sedated state. Harry stumbled onto his two feet and ran back to the stadium, pushing against the crowd. Hermione and Ron attempted to swim against the current of people after him. Harry ran back into the stadium with his two friends tailing him. All three of them were in such a state of euphoria, they ignored the incredible pain they felt with each step from being crushed into the barriers and kneed and elbowed in the back and kicked in the head from being in the front line of the mosh pit. A roadie was helping dismantle and apparate the stage and equipment to a different place. Harry, Hermione and Ron walked up the stage and tried to the attention of crewman.

'Excuse me,' said Harry. He looked up.

'Aye?'

'I was wondering if there was any way I could...even just see, Miss Lane just for a millisecond-'

'No way kid, I think you should go home.' The man laughed and continued what he was doing. Harry knew he would say that so he spilling his speech he already formed in his head.

'Please! I would give my life just to see her! I have every single album and EP she's ever released even the rare albums Lore and Legend and The Lacing of my Corset! I have been to every gig she's ever done in the UK including many others overseas. I have a collection of over one hundred and sixty six different pieces of merchandise with her name on it! I even own a pair of novelty fangs from the five she threw out to the crowd in the gig at Hogsmeade in October! I have listened to every album over seventy times each vand I have every magazine ever printed with her in it! I love her! All I want is one second with her!'

'His obsession is rather unhealthy, isn't it?' remarked Hermione. The roadie looked at them and shook his head.

'He's Harry Potter,' said Ron. The roadie stopped what he was doing and spun around.

'Are you really! I thought you looked familiar,' he said, studying his face. Harry reluctantly pushed up his fringe and revealed his scar. The roadie's eyes widened and smiled.

'So, can I see her?' he asked hopefully.

'Let me see what I can do,' the roadie whispered before he apparated into thin air. Harry wished that he was going to meet Ophelia Lane because of his dedication and devotion to her and her music rather than the fact that he's Harry Potter but he was still excited. No, Harry's heart was convulsing again and he felt wobbly at the knees at the very thought of meeting his idol, his celebrity obsession. Harry beamed triumphantly at his friends but they looked disappointed.

'Have fun,' Ron said quietly, 'tell us all about it.'

'I'll try and get you in too,' he said feeling a bit guilty for not telling to roadie to ask if Ron and Hermione could come with him.

The roadie appeared again. He nodded, confirming to Harry that was allowed to see Ophelia Lane. Harry felt as if he was going to burst. He was fidgeting with excitement and anticipation. Ron nudged him.

'Oh yeah, can my two friends come along too?' Harry asked, crossing his fingers and toes. The roadie looked around then leaned in.

'This special favour is just between you and me,' he said before beckoning them to follow him Hermione and Ron jumped with absolute glee. They followed with terror and exhilaration in their steps, whispering to each other hysterically. They couldn't believe just how easy it was to score five minutes the biggest rock star on earth.

Harry felt as if he was going to vomit. The range of full-blown emotions that shot through his body was making him dizzy and he wanted to be able to communicate with his idol. The roadie took them back stage and told them to apparate to the thirteenth floor of a well-known wizard hotel.

Suddenly, the looked around and the gleaming beige marble painted walls, beautiful wooden doors carved with magic symbols, breathtaking crystal lights that floated near the ceiling, the floors were carpeted with the softest loveliest shade of emerald green in all of the world. Hermione, Ron and Harry gazed around them, gaping. They were numb.

The roadie knocked on door number nine.

'Just a minute,' answered a voice from inside. Her voice. The voice of the one and only Ophelia Lane. Harry wanted to bolt. Ron was pale. Hermione was biting her lip. The door opened.

Harry's jaw dropped. There she was, leaning on the doorframe with a sweet smile on her face. She was still dressed in her stage gear. Harry looked at her from the ground up. Her black knee-high boots were laced up with burgundy laces and the heel was thick but not too high. Harry wondered how she danced the way she did with such heavy shoes on. She had a patchwork skirt on of different magic symbols and pictures, black and burgundy patches that Harry guessed she made herself. Her top was exquisite. It was a burgundy singlet top of lace. The boning was flexible and it tied up with black ribbon at the front, under her bust. Her bust. Harry tied to look away but he could not. Her breasts were pushed together and pushed up by her top and she was a voluptuous woman too. Harry gulped. Her hair tousled dark hair fell upon her shoulders and around her face. Her lips were coloured in red wine lipstick and sometime during the performance; she must have wiped her lips for the lipstick was smudged. Her oval face was free of makeup and her olive skin was radiant. Her nose was long and a little crooked but Harry didn't see it as a flaw, he saw it as a form of perfection. She was human. She wore a stunning bloodstone pendant around her forehead, like a renaissance circlet around her head that made accentuated her feminine beauty. She still had eyeliner on and mascara but even thick makeup could not hide her eyes. They were big almond shaped eyes, blue as a river of sapphires and chilling. She had beautiful eyes but they could be frightened if they locked on you. As freaky as her eyes were, they didn't compare to her fangs. No one knows if they are real, no one knows if she really is a vampire, but those fangs- those longer and sharper canines- could render any man to her will.

'Hello Harry, Hermione, Ron,' she greeted slowly, looking at them each in turn. They all shuddered. She opened the door and they walked into her room. The door shut with a soft click behind them.