Fila sat eating her toast inside the great hall. Her face and mind, not so happy. But the rest of the birds around her sure seemed happy. They even looked more happy than Fila, and it was her birthday.
Not a single person had spared her during the morning, as she entered the great hall for breakfast she had been directly bombarded with congratulations from everyone. Even Mason who started a fight with Theo in first grade.
The crown on her head didn't help with anything either, drawing more and more attention.
The toast she had in her mouth tasted sour, not that there were anything wrong with it. just all the attention made her tastebuds mad.
Fila took another bite, but it felt like chewing on dry parchment. To her left, June was vibrating with so much excitement she was practically hovering off the bench, and to her right, Calla was elegantly sipping tea, occasionally reaching over to adjust the tilt of Fila's birthday crown.
"It's crooked," Calla whispered, her eyes dancing with amusement.
"It's a target," Fila corrected, her voice flat. "I feel like a Golden Snitch in a room full of Seekers."
"You look majestic," June said, her mouth full of muffin. "A bit like a queen who's about to execute her court for breathing too loudly, but majestic nonetheless."
Theo sat down in the seat in front of her, he held a package up.
Fila raised an eyebrow. "A bribe?"
He looked annoyed. "Just take it."
She grabbed the present wrapped in white paper.
The present wasn't very heavy but it felt fragile. She ripped the paper up and opened the lid. Inside laid a pair of beautiful white dragon skin gloves, the gloves had black stitching. These weren't just some gloves. These were custom made, and even had her name embraided on both of the gloves.
Fila ran her thumb over the smooth, pebbled texture of the dragon skin. They were surprisingly soft for something harvested from a fire-breathing beast, and the black stitching was so intricate it almost looked like tiny, frozen vines. On the inside of the wrists, her name, Ophelia. was stitched in a subtle, shimmering thread.
"Theo," she said, her voice losing that sharp, 'birthday-grump' edge. She pulled one on; it fit like a second skin, providing a strange sense of groundedness that the golden crown definitely didn't. "These are... actually incredible."
"I know. Since your are going to duel a whole lot more now, you will need them. and for herbology." He said with a smile.
Fila flexed her hand, watching the way the white leather caught the morning light. The sour taste of the toast was finally fading, replaced by a hum of genuine warmth. It was hard to stay truly annoyed when her friends were clearly trying so hard to arm her for the chaos ahead.
"Thanks, Theo," she said, giving him a small, rare nod of approval.
"Don't mention it. Seriously," Theo muttered, though he looked secretly pleased. "Now, can we please talk about something else? Like how Elliot is currently trying to hide a love letter behind his Herbology textbook?"
Elliot jumped, nearly knocking over his pumpkin juice, while Calla turned a very interesting shade of pink. The table erupted into laughter, and for a moment, the heavy crown on Fila's head felt a little lighter.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of enchanted chalk and poorly hidden birthday treats. Fila moved through the corridors like a reluctant parade float, her new white dragon-skin gloves resting on her desk in every classroom as a silent warning to anyone thinking of throwing confetti.
The rest of the day moved with not much difference, teachers and students stopped to say happy birthday.
After classes that afternoon. Fila had managed to slip away from everyone.
She needed some alone time, being queen wasn't for the weak.
During the whole day she had not even thought about the fact that it was her birthday. No. she had been thinking about her dilemma with dueling. She needed something.
You know, some would think that on her birthday. She should relax, hang out with her friends and celebrate. Meh. Doesn't sound as fun as coming up with ways to use her magic.
Fila found herself standing in the quiet, humid air of the school's back conservatory, a place usually forgotten by the more social students. The dragon-skin gloves felt cool against her skin, and for the first time since she'd woken up, the "crown" didn't feel like a neon sign pointing at her head.
Flower popped out of the ground as she thought. Bright flowers, dull flowers and even ugly ones.
Her gaze froze on one of the flowers, alone out of all the flowers that had grown, this one stood out. A single black Allium. they are usually purple and look like a little ball. But this one had bloomed and turned black.
It blew softly with the wind. Side to side gently.
They aren't really the most beautiful flowers, but it had a certain charm.
Fila made a chair grow out of the ground, made up of roots and vines, clad in moss to feel soft. She sat in front of the flower.
The mossy chair was surprisingly ergonomic, conforming to her back as she leaned her chin in her gloved hand, staring intensely at the odd, dark orb of the Allium. It was a strange little thing, a cluster of tiny florets that looked like a trapped firework, but in the deepest shade of midnight.
"Why are you black?" she whispered,
She reached out a finger, the white dragon skin of her new glove contrasting sharply against the dark petals.
How could this help me, she hadn't grown this one. Her magic had, the problem is. Fila doesn't understand the mind of magic, if it even had one.
"I'm getting a headache from thinking about this." She plucked the flower and put it in her pocket. "I will deal with you later." She said as she patted the pocket of her robe.
She walked with brisk steps back to the tower. Fila who was first against going to the tower, now actually wanted to be there. Her friends were there. Trying their best to give her a good day. Theo even bought these expensive and very well made gloves, she hadn't taken them of yet.
Honestly, she even felt bad for going away like that, yet her friends also knew what kind of person Fila was.
The walk back to the tower was quieter than the morning rush, the sun dipping lower and painting the stone corridors in long, lazy shadows. Fila's hand stayed over her pocket, feeling the slight bump of the black Allium. She still didn't know why her magic had decided to produce a "goth" version of a garden staple, but she decided to take it as a sign that even her subconscious was tired of the bright birthday glitter.
"There she is! The runaway Queen!" June's voice echoed through the room.
The common room had been transformed. It wasn't the over-the-top, blinding gold of the Great Hall, but something much more comfortable. Someone had moved the couches into a large circle near the fire, and a mountain of blue-frosted cupcakes sat on the center table.
Milles was leaning against the mantle, holding a glass of something fizzy. "We were about to send a search party of Nifflers to track your scent, Fila. Theo thought you might have accidentally transfigured yourself into a tree to avoid the cake."
"Don't give her ideas," Theo muttered from a nearby armchair, though he was watching her with a small, observant smile. He noticed she was still wearing the white gloves.
Fila scoffed and sat down, "I would transfigure into a cactus and hug Theo really hard."
The thunderbirds all seemed to gather near the fire now as a big cake was brought in. the house elves had really put in work on this one. Green cake with decorated flowers and vines all around the cake.
Fila took the server, her white dragon-skin gloves making the silver handle feel steady in her hand. For a second, as she stood before the towering green dessert with the firelight dancing off her crown, she actually felt like she belonged at the center of the room.
"Make a wish!" someone called out from the back.
She closed her eyes and made a short but simple wish. What did she wish for? One should never tell.
Fila blew out the enchanted candles, which let out a final, melodic pop before turning into tiny sugar-butterflies that fluttered toward the ceiling. The room erupted into cheers, and the tension that had been coiled in her shoulders all day finally began to unravel.
"This is actually good," Theo admitted, taking a massive bite and immediately getting a dollop of green frosting on his nose. "I mean, for a cake that looks like it was dug up from the forest floor."
"It's an acquired taste, Theo. Like your personality," Fila teased, finally taking a seat and digging into her own piece. It was rich, earthy, and perfectly sweet—the first thing she'd eaten all day that didn't taste like cardboard or anxiety.
The party settled into a comfortable rhythm. Music played softly from an old wizarding wireless in the corner, and the fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm, flickering glow over the gathered Thunderbirds.
Fila had hung her robe behind her on the back rest of the couch. She reached into the pocket and pulled out the flower she had brought. The intention was to show June and see if she knew anything. She didn't but.
"Maybe its trying to tell you something." She said as she smelled the flower. "Smells different too."
It didn't help, if only a her power could make it speak. But than again if she tried, she probably could make it do so. She whipped her hand and the flower flew into her palm.
If it really were trying to tell her something, it should do so in bold letters instead she thought as she twirled the flower between her fingers.
As the night fell deeper over the school of Ilvermorny, more and more students retreated back to the comfort of their dorm rooms. Fila soon found herself sitting in the common room alone. By choice, Calla had tried dragging her back to bed but she had refused. She wanted some alone time to think.
And think she did. The only thing that could be heard was the crackling of the fireplace, and the ticking of the clock in the corner of the big room.
A thunderbird craved out of wood hung over the fireplace, almost looking down at the girl laying on one of the couches.
"Alright." She looked intensely at the flower. "Black… and no suppose to be black, and you bloomed without me doing anything." And still this led nowhere. Who was this suppose to be a hint or a signal for something. All she knew was that this flower that couldn't do this did it anyway…
Her eyes widened.
The little flower shaped like a ball suddenly didn't look so mysterious. "You've got to be f... kidding me" Oh my Ophelia is growing up.
"So, the whole thing about this is that I should use my flower in ways they aren't suppose to… like I've done this whole time." the thinking was right but the explanation is weak. How about this, this little ball of a flower could be used like a bomb for some unfortunate duelist who steps on it.
As she puzzled the whole thing together the flower withered slowly. And soon only dust remained.
"I don't need, lightning or anything. I have my flowers." She stood up and smiled. "I will just become a power house made roses."
She grabbed her robe from the back of the couch, swinging it over her shoulders as she headed toward the stairs. The "Queen" crown was still perched precariously on her head, but she didn't feel like a target anymore. She felt like a strategist. If her opponents expected a "flower girl," she was going to give them a botanical nightmare they wouldn't soon forget.
The next days passed in a snap. Finals were closing in. but Fila, spent most of her free time in the locked hall of the training hall. The hall had been closed and only available for the champions to train. Each of them had a time set when they would be able to train. But since finals were coming none of them had time, so Fila obviously took their times.
Using flowers in a more creative way came with… complications.
Since most flowers aren't suppose to explode or shoot darts at things, Surprisingly. She had to come up with a way to mix these things. It felt like doing a potion but this is a plant.
Her lesson soon came to a halt when a certain professor opened the door.
"Good morning headmaster." Fila said, she didn't hide that she didn't want him here. her tone gave the 'please fuck of' kind of vibe.
He chuckled. "Good morning." He stepped closer, observing the broken flower laying scattered here and there all over the place. Even a crater could be seen at the end of the hall.
"Busy morning?" the Headmaster asked, his gaze lingering on the blackened stone of the crater. He didn't seem bothered by the mess; in fact, he looked like a gardener admiring a particularly vigorous weed.
"The training hall was empty," she said shortly, her voice echoing in the large space. "I figured someone should put it to use before it collects more dust than the Arithmancy wing."
"Quite right," he replied, folding his hands behind his back. He stepped over a stray, mangled stem that was still twitching slightly. "Though I don't recall 'Botanical Ballistics' being on the standard curriculum. Most students use this room for Shield Charms and the occasional Disarming Hex."
Fila wiped a smudge of soot from her forehead. "Standard isn't going to win in Japan. And shield charms don't do much if the floor starts fighting back."
His happy expression soon turned to a more serious look. "Im going the be frank with you Ophelia." He stopped for a moment, letting the words hit her. "I don't think its wise for you to try to win the competition."
"I'm sorry?" she said, her voice dropping an octave. "You think I should go all the way to Japan just to be a decorative addition to the tournament?"
The Headmaster sighed, looking more like a tired grandfather than a powerful wizard. He gestured to the crater at the end of the hall. "I think you are incredibly talented. Perhaps too talented. The world is currently a very... sensitive place, Ophelia. A girl with your particular lineage, showing this kind of destructive, ancient-leaning power on a global stage? It draws eyes. Eyes that Ilvermorny cannot always protect you from.
Fila felt a spark of heat, not from a spell, but from pure, unadulterated annoyance. "So, because of my last name, I'm supposed to play nice and lose? Let some guy with a faster Stupefy take the win because it's 'safer' for the school's reputation?"
This whole thing tasted just like when the congress rejected her hearing. Something else was in this shit, hidden deep. But not hidden deep enough so it couldn't be smelled.
"If you would win. The message to the world would be clear." He started. "That the only living lineage of the dark lord is a dueling champion, and a dangerous one at that." Fontaine said. But what came from Ophelia? A laugh.
Fila's laugh was short, sharp, and entirely devoid of humor. It bounced off the high stone walls of the training hall, sounding more like a crack of a whip than a girl's amusement.
"So that's it," she said, her voice dangerously calm. She began slowly peeling off the white dragon-skin gloves, finger by finger, as if she were preparing for a different kind of fight. "You're not worried about my safety. You're worried about the optics. You want me to be a 'reformed' Grindelwald. A quiet, polite little plant-girl who knows her place and doesn't make the other houses uncomfortable."
"Ophelia, I am trying to keep you from becoming a focal point for the very people who want to see your lineage fail, or worse, the people who want to see it rise," the Headmaster said, his voice pleading for her to understand the weight of the politics.
They used Crucio on me headmaster. I will show them that the thing they wanted to remove can bite back. And that bite is going to take the head of the snake.
"You're too late for that," Fila snapped. She stepped toward the crater, pointing at the scorched earth. "The 'dark lord' didn't win by growing flowers, Headmaster. He won with fear and fire. I'm doing something different. I'm taking the things people think are soft and making them sharp. If you want a message for the world, how about this: The last Grindelwald doesn't need a Dark Arts book to beat you. She just needs the dirt under your feet."
Headmaster Fontaine looked at the girl in front of him. The girl who had just a year ago been a honor student for her plants and studies. But because of her name she is targeted, and now broken. She still is one of the smartest students at the school, and very talented. But she is breaking. Breaking under the eyes of the ones who wishes her to disappear. And soon the ones who wished that are going to find themselves at the end of her wand.
"You're asking me to throw a fight to make the MACUSA sleep better at night," Fila continued, pulling her robe tight around her. "But I'm not a politician. I'm a Thunderbird. And we don't hide from the storm. We are the storm."
She walked past him toward the doors, her heavy boots thudding with a finality that left no room for further argument.
"I'll see you in Japan, Headmaster. Try to look surprised when I win."