The first day of school started how one would expect it. with every singel student being half asleep.
Fila and the others sat at their table eating breakfast.
She was in a good mood today after the talk she had with June and Calla. She wasn't as scared about what happened. Or so she thought.
Fila put her head lower and it was instantly noticed by June who started scanning the hall.
"Aha, she just sat down…" June looked back at Fila. "stop that Ophelia. You remember what we talked about."
Fila hated to admit it but June was right, she had no reason to be scared or shy towards Amanda.
Ophelia exhaled slowly. "I am not doing anything."
"You are actively pretending the table is fascinating," June replied.
Calla did not even look up from her cup. "You're being obvious."
"I am not obvious."
"You are glowing red," Theo cut in without lifting his head from his plate.
Ophelia kicked him lightly under the table.
He grinned.
Across the Hall, Amanda was sitting with her house, laughing at something someone had said. The light from the tall windows caught in her hair. She looked normal. Relaxed. Not at all like someone who had just completely dismantled Ophelia's composure the night before.
As if sensing it, Amanda glanced up.
Their eyes met.
Ophelia did not look away.
"Woow holding eye contact for more than five seconds without looking away, impressive." Calla teased.
"Alright girls stop that, you can flirt later. We have our first defensive magic as the first lesson." Milles said, he had been excited for this. he had gone on and on about the things we would learn. And most importantly, about the curses.
And to be fair it was exciting. Defensive magic is also the start to dueling activities.
The hall emptied as classes approached. Fila walked with her class towards the lecture hall.
Professor David Hale held this class.
"Welcome back everyone, hope summer didn't rust those brains of yours too much. Today we will start with some theory about defensive magic, you already know Protego so we will talk about other ways to protect. And at out class on Thursday we will talk about the unforgivable curses…" he talked on and on.
Fila had a vast understanding of how she could protect herself, not from reading but lessons with Rowan and herself. Her books had help a lot. But since her magic now worked a bit different, she wondered how she could use that for protection.
The group had never seen Milles this focused in class, and it was very strange to see. He had always been lazy but now he looked like he actually listened to the professor.
"Someone switched his brain this summer, must be" Theo whispered.
After about and hour and half the lesson was almost over.
"The second year is special. For the first time you all can start dueling." He scanned the room. "But its not a game, its serious. don't take it lightly… class dismissed"
Everyone stood and started packing their things.
"Next is Charms, right?" Elliot asked, checking his schedule.
"Unfortunately," Theo replied.
They turned down the main corridor, sunlight cutting across the floor in long pale shapes. The castle felt fully awake now. First day energy had replaced the morning drowsiness. Professors stood at intersections guiding lost first years. Laughter echoed from distant staircases.
As they walked towards their next class, two unknown people approached Ophelia. They were dressed in robes, and looked very serious.
She instantly knew what this was about.
"Ophelia Grindelwald, we would like to ask some questions?" the woman said. He voice was unnecessarily stern. The other of them a tall and broad man. Both stopped in front of Ophelia blocking her from her friends.
"If this is about my family name," she said clearly enough that the air carried it, "I am fairly certain I have not overthrown anything between breakfast and Defensive Magic."
Theo almost choked trying not to laugh.
The woman did not smile.
"This is a routine inquiry."
"Routine," Ophelia repeated. She could feel her own blood boil at this point. Not only on the first day, after first class. But she hadn't even done anything.
Her friend had all stopped and turned towards them at this point. The all knew the look on her face.
June stepped closer without even thinking about it. Not touching. Just near enough to make it clear Ophelia was not standing alone.
Theo folded his arms. The humor had drained from his face.
Milles looked like he was mentally reciting school policy.
Elliot watched the officials carefully, as if cataloging every detail.
The woman did not seem impressed by the silent wall forming behind Ophelia.
"We would prefer privacy," she said.
"And I would prefer to get to class," Ophelia answered calmly, though there was heat under it now. "Professor Hale just spent an hour explaining how serious second year is."
The man seemed to have lost all his patience and suddenly reached out and harshly grabbed her arm and started pulling her.
"THAT IS ENOUGH!" a shout echoed from behind the two. And both their faces dropped. "I agreed to you observing. OBSERVING, but interrogating a student on the FIRST day, while going to class is unacceptable. AND pulling her?" Headmaster Fontaine had arrived.
The man let go of her arm as both the woman and him turned towards the headmaster.
He stepped forward with controlled authority, robes moving sharply behind him, gaze fixed directly on the two officials. There was no theatrical anger in him. Only contained fury, the kind that carried weight.
"I made myself clear," he said, tone low and cutting. "Observation does not include intimidation. Nor does it include physical contact with my students."
The word "my" was deliberate.
Students nearby had gone completely silent. Even the first years at the far end of the corridor were staring openly now.
The woman inclined her head slightly, though it did not feel like an apology. "There was no intimidation intended."
"You blocked her path," Fontaine replied evenly. "You questioned her publicly. And your colleague laid hands on her."
There was no argument to that.
The tall man looked as if he wanted to protest, but did not.
Fontaine turned his attention briefly to Ophelia.
"Are you injured?"
"No, Headmaster," she answered but her voice was far from calm.
The headmaster turned his head back to the aurorers. "You are worried she might turn into someone, well if you keep treating her like that she will turn into that person sooner or later…" the words hammered down on them. "I will contact Macusa about this."
The officials did not react outwardly, but something shifted in the air between them and the Headmaster. The woman's jaw tightened. The tall man's shoulders squared, though he did not speak.
"You are overstepping," the woman said carefully, her voice measured now instead of sharp.
"No," Fontaine replied without raising his tone. "I am preventing you from doing so."
He did not move closer. He did not need to. His authority filled the space without physical intimidation.
"You were granted permission to observe," he continued. "Not to provoke. Not to corner. And certainly not to lay hands on a second year student in the middle of my corridor."
The emphasis on my returned, deliberate and protective.
Ophelia stood very still.
Her arm still burned faintly where the man had grabbed her. Not from pain, but from indignation. From the instinctive surge that had almost answered force with force.
Almost.
The threads had reacted when he touched her.
They had tightened around her awareness like something ready to strike.
And she had held them back.
That mattered more than anything else in that moment.
The tall man finally spoke, voice lower than before. "There was no harm intended."
"And yet harm was nearly done," Fontaine answered.
The woman's gaze flicked briefly toward Ophelia, then back to the Headmaster. "You cannot deny the historical context."
"I am not denying history," Fontaine said sharply. "I am denying prejudice disguised as precaution."
Fila didn't want to stay here anymore, she turned to leave. She went back to the common room. The others wanted to follow, but Fontaine had stopped them.
"She will need some time for herself." He said calmly.
But she didn't go to the common room. She went to the training ground she had gone to a lot in her first year. The anger she had inside her right now had to disappear.
She arrived at the grounds and saw the same training dummies hat had always been there, although in worse shape than when she had met them first time.
In front of the dummies she aimed her wand. All the rage and anger, all piled up into one spell. Perfect for doing something with ancient magic. The dummies who now looked like the two aurorers stood mockingly there smiling at her.
"mourir" the hall became quiet, but something was happening. And then, crash.
There was no bright flash.
No sharp crack of impact.
Just pressure.
A deep, invisible force folding inward from every direction at once.
The air itself seemed to tighten around the two training dummies. Wood splintered without flying apart. Straw compacted inward instead of bursting outward. The frames groaned for half a second under something that could not be seen, could not be traced to a wand movement.
Both dummies collapsed into dense, compact spheres of crushed material, wood and stuffing pressed so tightly together they looked almost polished. They hit the ground with heavy, dull thuds that rolled across the field.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, not from fear, but from the release. The anger had not exploded outward wildly. It had narrowed. Concentrated. Directed.
She slowly lowered her wand.
The two crushed shapes lay on the grass, unrecognizable as training dummies now. Compressed beyond simple repair.
She sat down on the grass. A tear formed and ran down her chin.
"Just because one person did something…"
And than she sat there, for hours.
Inside the common room her friends had just returned from their last lesson. They had franticly searched through the whole tower for her.
"Is she in your room?" Theo asked as her came down from upstairs.
June and Calla shook their head in sync. "She isn't in the tower"
The all stood around and decided to look through the school together.
Back in the Training ground fila still sat, he back against a wall. Quietly. It felt nice to just sit quietly here for a long time. nothing to disturb her in her thinking. She looked up to the evening sun that had almost set at this point.
Foot steps soon came from the entrance of the training grounds. Fila looked over to see someone she hadn't expected to come here.
"Fila?"
The sound of Amanda's voice slipped into the quiet like something fragile.
Ophelia turned slowly, and the sight of her standing there, a few steps back from the flattened grass and the damaged dummies, made something inside her soften in spite of herself. Amanda's expression was not amused or teasing the way it often was. It was open. Concerned. There was no visible tension in her posture, no sign of the light flirting energy from the night before. She looked… gentle.
"I saw what happened in the corridor," Amanda said softly as she stepped closer, boots pressing into the grass with controlled movements. "People are talking."
Of course they were talking. The entire castle had probably seen it.
Ophelia exhaled slowly and gave a faint shrug, though the movement lacked its usual ease. "They like talking."
Amanda did not smile at that. Instead she came closer still, stopping just far enough away that Ophelia could choose the distance herself. The sun was beginning to lower behind the castle walls, casting long gold light across Amanda's face and catching faint highlights in her hair. In that moment, she looked sincere. Vulnerable, even.
"I know what it's like," Amanda said quietly, her voice lower now, more intimate in tone. "When people decide who you are before you've even done anything."
The words landed precisely where Ophelia was most raw. She had been sitting alone with that exact weight pressing against her chest for hours. The humiliation of being grabbed. The implication that she was already something dangerous simply because of blood and history.
"You don't have my name," Ophelia replied, though there was no sharpness in it anymore. Only tired honesty.
"No," Amanda agreed gently. "But I know what it's like to be watched. To be evaluated. To be measured against something that isn't even yours."
The wind lifted slightly, brushing loose strands of hair across Ophelia's face. For a moment she simply looked at Amanda, searching for any sign of insincerity. She found none. Only calm eyes and a softness that felt real.
"I was worried when you didn't come back," Amanda continued, taking one more step forward. "You looked like you were holding too much in."
That broke something small inside Ophelia.
She had held too much in. All summer. All morning. All through that corridor confrontation. She had chosen restraint over reaction. Control over instinct. And now, standing in front of someone who seemed to understand without accusation, the exhaustion hit all at once.
Before she could reconsider, she stepped forward.
Amanda's arms opened without hesitation, and when they wrapped around her it felt solid and warm and grounding. Not possessive. Not tight. Just there. Ophelia let herself lean into it, her forehead resting briefly near Amanda's shoulder as her muscles finally loosened.
"It's not fair," Amanda murmured softly near her ear.
"No," Ophelia breathed back, the word barely audible.
For a single heartbeat, everything felt safe.
Then something shifted.
Amanda's hand at her back tightened just slightly, not enough to alarm, just enough to anchor. Her other arm adjusted position in a movement so subtle Ophelia barely registered it at first. The warmth of the hug remained, but beneath it there was tension now.
Ophelia pulled back instinctively, only a fraction, enough to look at Amanda's face.
The softness was gone.
The warmth in her eyes had drained, replaced by something colder. Focused. Detached.
"I'm sorry," Amanda said.
The words were calm.
Almost gentle.
Then her wand was already raised between them.
"Crucio."
The world screamed, and everything burnt. She wanted nothing else than this to end, it hurts…hurt HUrthua. Her mind was collapsing from her whole nerve system being destroyed one piece at a time.
Every nerve in Ophelia's body ignited at once, as if something invisible had wrapped around her spine and pulled violently in opposite directions. Her muscles seized so hard her knees buckled instantly. The grass rushed up to meet her as her body hit the ground without control.
It crawled under skin and through bone, twisting muscle fibers from the inside, forcing her back to arch against the earth. Her fingers dug into the soil, nails tearing as she tried to anchor herself against something that had no physical source.
The threads exploded in response.
They did not rise smoothly.
They did not glow blue.
They flared red and violent and wild, reacting to the assault without direction. Magic surged outward in chaotic pulses, flattening grass in uneven waves around her body. The air itself seemed to tremble with the intensity of it, but the curse shattered her ability to focus.
Every attempt to gather the threads dissolved into agony.
Amanda stood over her, wand steady, expression no longer conflicted. There was no tremor in her hand. No visible guilt.
"Stay down," she said quietly, as if instructing someone in a duel.
The pain intensified again, sharper this time, deeper, as if it were reaching into marrow. Ophelia tried to breathe and found she could not draw air properly. Her lungs spasmed uselessly. A broken sound tore from her throat but did not form into a scream.
Time distorted.
Seconds stretched into something unbearable.
Somewhere beyond the roar in her ears she heard distant shouting. Running footsteps across grass. Voices calling her name.
The connection snapped suddenly.
The curse ended not with relief but with absence, like a cord cut mid tension.
Her body collapsed fully onto its side, limbs trembling uncontrollably as breath finally tore into her lungs in ragged, burning gasps. Every muscle felt raw. Unsteady. Her vision blurred at the edges, grass and sky blending into indistinct shapes.
The threads flickered violently around her awareness, unstable, reacting to what had just been done. They wanted to lash outward. To strike. To compress and crush the source of the harm.
But she could not gather them yet.
She lay there shaking.
Amanda stepped back slowly, composure sliding back into place like a mask being reapplied. By the time the first of the others reached the edge of the field, she stood several paces away, wand lowered, expression carefully arranged into something unreadable.
Theo reached her first, dropping to his knees beside her, hands hovering uselessly as if afraid to touch her and make it worse. June followed, pale and shaking, Calla right behind her. Milles stood rigid, fury radiating from him.
Behind them came steps, Fontaine.
Professor Hale at his side, wand already raised.
Amanda had stepped back several paces, wand lowered but still in hand, expression arranged into something carefully neutral. Almost shocked. Almost concerned.
Fontaine did not hesitate.
"Expelliarmus."
Amanda's wand flew from her hand instantly, skidding across the grass before Professor Hale intercepted it with a sharp flick of his own. In the same motion, Hale cast a binding charm that wrapped invisible force around Amanda's wrists, pinning her arms to her sides without physical contact.
"What have you done?" Hale's voice was low, but it carried lethal weight.
Amanda did not answer.
Fontaine did not look at her immediately. His attention went first to Ophelia.
He knelt beside her, not touching at once, assessing. "Ophelia. Can you hear me?"
Her body didn't respond and neither did she. he looked at the poor girl.
"Children go get the aurorers and the nurse, quickly!" Fontaine ordered.
Milles and Elliot ran of into the school.
Her body still trembled in aftershocks, muscles misfiring from the lingering curse.
Professor Hale shifted his focus, and he saw it. both he and Fontaine exchange knowing looks.
"Cruciatus," Hale said quietly to Fontaine.
Fontaine's jaw tightened.
Around them, several more professors had arrived, including the two aurorers.
The nurse who arrived had told everyone to not touch her and to stay away.
Fontaine stood slowly, turning at last to face Amanda.
"In my grounds," he said, voice dangerously calm. "On my student."
Amanda did not look away.
For a moment the field was utterly silent except for Ophelia's uneven breathing.
Then Fontaine spoke again, louder.
"Escort her."
Two aurorers stepped forward immediately, securing Amanda fully and leading her away toward the castle under tight magical restraint.
Only when she disappeared beyond the boundary stones did Fontaine's attention return completely to Ophelia.
"Madam Thorne," he said firmly.
The healer knelt beside her and began working at once, murmuring stabilizing charms that eased the violent tremors running through Ophelia's limbs.
Madam Throne looked worried, Fontaine had never seen her with this face. He knew very well that could mean only the worst. "We need to get her to a hospital. Elias, call for the ministry and tell them to get as much here as soon as possible. And… tell the minister I want him here personally."