Tunnel Talks
The air from the white mask’s departure had barely stilled before Hermione was twisting away in her own crack of apparition, all thoughts of the battle still waging left behind in the alley as she rematerialized in her attic/bedroom back at Grimmauld place.
She didn’t even stop to holster her wand before tearing off at a sprint down the many stairs of the old house. In fact, Hermione didn’t form a single thought until she was coming to a halt in front of the table in what had been coined the ‘war room’.
Even then, the only thought she had came bursting from her lips to announce “Ophelia is a white mask!”
Only after the words had left her mouth did her mind catch up to her senses and Hermione was able to take in her surroundings. Around her, the surprised faces of Remus, Moody, Luna, Molly, Arthur, and a few other less familiar Order members were looking at her with expressions ranging from shock to anger.
It was also only then did Hermione notice that there were no less than three wands being trained on her.
“Hermione? What are you doing back already? Where are the others? Is everything alright?” The rapid fire came from Remus, his tired eyes coloured with worry and the lines around them creased in stress.
“What? No. Remus, didn’t you hear me? Ophelia is a white mask!” Hermione didn’t understand why nobody was reacting. This was a huge revelation! A turn the tides of the war revelation. Why was Remus so concerned about a battle when this could mean the war?
“Granger! Where is the rest of your team?” The question was barked at her from Mad-Eye Moody this time.
“DON’T call me that!” She snapped, flinching at the use of her old name.
“Hermione?” This time it was the calm voice of Neville, accompanied by a hand on her shoulder from Luna. “We really want to hear what you’ve discovered, but everyone is just a little worried about the rest of the Order who went on your mission with you. Are they back aswell?”
She barely heard his questions though, her mind still reeling from her encounter in the alley.
“I know who Ophelia is!” She exclaimed, ignoring the worry in the faces of those around her in lieu of her excitement at the revelation.
Before anyone in the room could respond, multiple cracks of apparition echoed throughout the large house followed by the stomping of footsteps. Remus was up and out the door faster than Hermione thought possible for his battered and weary frame.
Within moments the room had emptied, leaving her alone with only a serene looking Luna.
“Don’t you want to go make sure Ginny is okay?” Hermione asked, choosing to subconsciously ignore the hint of bitterness that had seeped into her words.
“She’s fine” Luna stated smoothly. “The most severe injury the fates had in store for her today was a broken ankle, and Ginevra tends to be quite testy with me when she’s taken skele-gro. I’ll see her later.”
“Oh- ok.” Was all Hermione had to say in response. Her mind was still reeling, except now her desire to solve the problem that is Ophelia’s identity was warring with the nearly intolerable need to make sure that Harry made it out in one piece.
Luna seemed to pick up on her restless energy, and flashed Hermione a kind smile.
“Lets walk.” The small blonde suggested. She didn’t actually wait for Hermione’s response though; just simply linked their arms together and pulled her along, seemingly uncaring of the blood from her armour getting on the younger witch’s sleeve.
–
“Are we going to talk about Ophelia?” Hermione broke their long silence after fifteen minutes of aimless wandering. They’d made it decently far from the house and into a nearby park.
“I had hoped that you would meet him today.” Luna replied, unruffled. Hermione wondered just what it would take to shock the small blonde girl.
“You know who he is.” Hermione accused.
“Yes, and so do you.” The younger witch answered.
“I know I should but I can’t remember who he is. It’s out of reach; like my brain is purposely keeping his name from me.” Her brain itched the more she thought about it, like somewhere locked in a corner of her mind was the answer and it was screaming to get out.
“That sounds frustrating.” Was all the other girl said in response.
“It is! I know I’m getting better; I mean I’m able to remember names and people and my past more and more as I spend time away from Azkaban, but this one is still completely obscured.” Hermione ranted, tugging on a lock of her hair that had made its way out of the confines of her braid.
“You’ll remember.” Luna assured her.
“You know, you could just tell me and save us all the headache.” She whined, looking at the strs glittering overhead in exasperation.
“No I can’t. It’s not what the fates have in store for you.”
Hermione just groaned loudly before she settled for saying a short goodbye to Luna as they arrived back inside Grimmauld’s wards and running off towards the back gardens. To hell with the fates and what they wanted for her, Hermione was going to solve this puzzle even if it killed her.
–
Three flowers, two drafts and one grouchy owl later, Hermione found herself in one of the less-destroyed sections of the abandoned London Underground. She’d been there for close to an hour with only the rats for company before the sound of footsteps broke the silence.
She pulled her wand as the sounds got closer, choosing to aim in the general direction of the noise instead of lighting up the area to see better. Ophelia might be on the same side as her, but Hermione was about to bank her life on her theory being right.
Her tactical decision didn’t matter though, because moments later soft bluebell flames lit all around her. The light was unexpected, and Hermione had to squint against it. When her eyes adjusted he was right in front of her, so close that she could see thin rings of white and green in his brilliant blue eyes.
“M’lady, we meet again.” He tilted his head in her direction politely, his blue eyes piercing her to the spot. He was wearing the white mask and death eater robes still, cutting a more imposing figure in the confines of the dark tunnel.
Hermione knew she should probably be afraid of him, but something about the way his eyes watched her made her feel safe.
“Ophelia.” She greeted, pleased when her voice didn’t shake or stutter.
His grin shifted to one that was borderline feral, his pearly white teeth matching the bone colour of his mask.
“I knew the bookworm in you would get my references. I always thought had our circumstances been different, we could’ve been friends Granger.” The way he practically purred the word Granger sent shivers up Hermione's spine, though she couldn't identify if they were the good or the bad kind.
“Don’t call me that” she snapped. “It’s not my name, not anymore.” He cocked his head in curiosity at her words, the blue of his eyes turning stormy at the puzzle she’d presented him.
“Why not? What am I supposed to call you instead then?”
“Hermione is fine, or if you’re really that uncomfortable with forenames I’ve legally changed my name to Hermione Wilkins.” She opted to ignore his first question, hoping against all odds that he would let it go unanswered.
Ophelia eyed her suspiciously, clearly picking up on her evasion. Hermione just shrugged.
“I’d heard you spent some time in Azkaban. Is that why you’re so…” He gestured with his hand in her general direction, causing Hermione to bristle all over again at the insinuation.
“Finish that sentence and I’ll send you home without a spleen.” She threatened, raising her wand to his chest as the end lit up red.
Ophelia chuckled -chuckled!- at her threat, raising his hands palms up in mock surrender.
“Relax Princess I’m just making casual conversation. I mean, one of us has to; though I guess since you’re the one who invited me it should be your responsibility.” Ophelia tapped his chin thoughtfully at that, his lips pursing into a pout.
“How about we start with your name then?” Hermione asked the question as casually as she possibly could, cursing her faulty memory for putting her at this disadvantage.
“You don’t know who I am?” He cocked his head in confusion at her now, removing his mask while he spoke. “Am I really so unmemorable princess that after six years in school together you don’t know my name? Don’t get me wrong we weren’t friends or anything but we did have every single class together.”
Slytherin, then.
“Okay fine just give me a minute to think it through!” She snapped, furrowing her eyebrows in what she hoped was a menacing glare.
Hermione was unsuccessful if the amused grin she got back was any indicator.
“Okay so all six years we have to be the same age, and you must be a Slytherin if we took classes together…” Ophelia nodded along to each of her points, indicating they were true. “That leaves Malfoy who you definitely aren’t -a nod-, Crabbe and Goyle are dead which I know because I killed them hence the Azkaban induced memory issues -a slightly more confused/concerned nod-, no accent and you haven’t tried to spit on me yet so you’re not Zabini -an amused nod-.
Hermione was counting them out on her fingers, she knew there five boys in their year in Slytherin and she’d listed four of them. The only one left was -
“Theodore Nott.”
“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance Princess, and I’m really sorry about this.”
Before she could even open her mouth to ask what the fuck Theodore Nott was talking about, there was a flash of light from his wand and then darkness overtook Hermione’s consciousness.