CHAPTER ONE
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-: seventh year :-

── IN WHICH HER SUMMER IS 
DISRUPTED INDEFINITELY

. . .

WHEN SHE HEARD THE KNOCK on the door, Ophelia Crouch was in what one could consider a more compromising situation. She hadn't expected any other visitors, that was for certain and the sound made her start.

"Adrien - Adrien, stop it." She said, clearing her throat as she tried to sit up. Her hand reached under the thin sheets that covered her legs, knitting in his hair.

"Come on, babe, it's not gonna be anyone important." Adrien's voice was muffled by her thighs against his head. The hand pressing imprints into her right leg let go and pulled the sheets back, looking up as his thumb swiped at the corner of his lips. "It's the middle of the summer; who's it going to be, really?"

"The house is hidden from Muggles, so a wizard for a start." Ophelia said, her head tilting in thought. "I told you what I had to do for my father, it might be some Ministry official." That quelled a slight panic within her and she managed to sit up and push him away. Freed from her bed, she pulled on her underwear and slip and reached for a robe hung on her door.

"Stay here." She instructed Adrien, who rolled his eyes at her as he moved to lay languidly up by the pillows, reaching for the thin silver case of cigarettes on her nightstand. "...Give me one of those." Ophelia snatched the one between his fingers before she left, lighting it with the tip of her wand.

As the woman of the house, she had taken the master bedroom and now the walk down the corridor to the main staircase was no longer a lengthy one. Taking a drag and blowing smoke into a blue-tinted cloud as she entered the hall, her spare hand reached up to rub at her eyes and nose, wetting her lips.

Ophelia opened the door and once more found herself taken aback. "Headmaster Dumbledore?" She frowned and sniffed. "What a... wonderful surprise."

"Miss Crouch." Professor Dumbledore's kind eyes, hidden behind half-moon spectacles, seemed to be filled with some sort of surprise as they flickered briefly over her appearance, the skewed robe that was hanging off of her shoulder that she rushed to adjust, the cigarette in her hands. "I hope I'm not interrupting something."

She often found herself in moments of conflict when it came to the Headmaster. One part of her, the part that had arranged for her father to be seen as dead when he disappeared to serve Lord Voldemort as thoroughly as possible disliked him, but she could not deny the kindness he had shown her when they had found her grandfather dead, or that her uncle had been pretending to be Alastor Moody for a year. Nor could she deny the fact that he was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and every inch of her that strived for educational success wanted to impress him.

"I... I have not had an easy few weeks." Ophelia cleared her throat. "I... a lot has happened, in the past few months."

"I appreciate that, Miss Crouch." Professor Dumbledore said. "And first, I wish to offer my condolences for the death of your father. To return to find him missing must have been distressing enough, but to hear that he has died as well would certainly be perplexing."

Ophelia nodded. "Thank you, Professor." She swallowed, sniffed again, took a final drag of her cigarette before stubbing it out against the door frame. She didn't want to waste it, but alas, she was in front of the Headmaster. "I appreciate that. Is there something else I can help with?"

"Who is it, babe?" A voice came from the top of the stairs, and Ophelia's eyes widened in panic as she turned to see Adrien behind her. He took several steps down before he too suffered from the same shock Ophelia had done, all though he didn't seem to care just as much as she did. "Oh shit, Dumbledore-" 

"Go back upstairs, Adrien." Ophelia said sharply, with a hesitant glance back towards the Headmaster. 

"Mr Pucey, if I could implore you to not return upstairs, but instead leave Miss Crouch's property all together, I would be grateful." Dumbledore replied. The head of blonde hair snapped towards him. "I wish to have a conversation with Miss Crouch, and it requires the utmost privacy." 

"Actually, you sorta interrupted something, sir, so I'll be waiting upstairs." Adrien began to slope his way back up the stairs, smirking. 

Ophelia's gaze rested on the Headmaster. It hardened, the edge of politeness she had intended to hold onto slowly dissipating. She was grateful for the kindness that he had shown her in the times of trouble, but the man's demanding nature was grating. But, whilst she had hoped to have grown an iron will, her curiosity grew stronger by the moment. 

"Go home, Adrien." She snapped. 

Adrien stopped. He had already dressed when he came down, not knowing who was awaiting him, and his eyes landed on Ophelia. "Fine." He replied. "I'll come back later." 

"This is going to be a lengthy conversation, Mr Pucey." Dumbledore replied. "It's best if you don't." 

"If he wants to he can come back." Ophelia's head swivelled back to the Headmaster. "Adrien, just go for now, okay? I'll Floo you." Adrien didn't say another word, and instead rolled his eyes and clutched his wand. He Apparated away in seconds, and Ophelia turned back to the Headmaster. "I'm going to get changed. Feel free to take a seat and I'll summon a house-elf for tea." 

There was no response denying the hospitality and Ophelia clicked her fingers and Zolly appeared, quickly ordered to provide tea and biscuits for their guest - who specifically requested shortbread, seemingly. Ophelia disappeared after that storming back up to her bedroom. She changed quickly, not wanting this to go on any longer than necessary and returned to find Dumbledore in the midst of an animated conversation with Zolly about... Muggle sweets, seemingly. 

"What is it that is so pertinent that you could not wait for term to begin again." Ophelia asked, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. It echoed around the entrance hall, and she made her way into the drawing room just off of the hall. Zolly and the throng of house elves the Crouches kept had gone all out for the rare guest, with tiers of small sandwiches, scones and biscuits as well as the very best china. "And why was it a necessity to send away Adrien?" 

"Miss Crouch, as I understand it, it was a very short time period between which your father was deemed missing and presumed dead." Dumbledore said. Ophelia was going to sit down across from him but that made her hesitate, cross her arms defensively across her chest. "It is quite impressive how quickly you convinced the Ministry of that." 

"I did no such thing, and I find it awfully offensive of you to even suggest that I could do something like that." Ophelia replied. 

"Miss Crouch," Dumbledore began, "your father disappeared to join the Death Eaters. I am well aware of that." Ophelia only glared at him, deciding it best to not say anything. "I can assure you that I am not going to tell the Ministry what you have done. That is not my place to do, and it is not for me to understand why you did that for your father." 

Ophelia still remained silent, but she decided to take a seat, pouring tea into a decorated cup. Her thumb ran over the crest embroiled in flowers upon it. She cleared her throat. "Surely you're not just here to threaten me with the fact that you believe, for some reason beyond my understanding, that I falsified my father's death." Ophelia told him. "Not that you have anything to base that on." 

"Miss Crouch, I am unable to reveal just how-"

"And you continue to threaten me with your awareness of something I have supposedly done." Ophelia rose an eyebrow. "Professor Dumbledore, as I am sure that you are well aware, but you do not have much of a stand within the Ministry currently. They will not believe a word that you say, but me, a young girl who is grieving the loss of her father, uncle and grandfather... they will believe me."

"You're attempting to blackmail me?" 

"I am not attempting anything, Professor." Ophelia's eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "I have no doubt that it will work." 

Dumbledore let out a sigh, a finger poised by his temple. "Miss Crouch, I am not here to tell you that I am going to report to the Ministry." He told her. "For reasons that I am not yet able to reveal to you, I believe that you, staying here alone, is putting you in a position of danger." 

Ophelia scoffed, shaking her head. "As if." She said. "Danger from who - or is that something else you just can't tell me?" 

"Something that I cannot tell you yet." Dumbledore corrected. "However, I may be more able to openly discuss this elsewhere. I did not just come here to tell you that you are in danger whilst living here alone-"

"What, Voldemort is coming for me next?" Ophelia rolled her eyes. Her irritation was growing as each second went by. Especially at the vagueness. She did not appreciate the vagueness. "Please, if you think that - for some reason - by covering up my father's disappearance I am putting myself in danger then you are wrong." 

"You are not in the danger with the Ministry, Miss Crouch." Dumbledore, despite his seemingly endless stream of patience with everyone he spoke to, appeared to be growing irritated. "I understand that you father staged his disappearance to join the Death Eaters." 

"My father is dead." 

"Miss Crouch, I know for a fact that your father is very much alive, and he, like your Uncle, was and remains a member of the Death Eaters." Dumbledore replied, a little more sagely. "It is not something that can be argued upon." 

"I'd love to try." Ophelia rose her eyebrows and sat up in her seat. "I will happily argue upon the matter and I believe you will find that there are plenty of official Ministry documents backing me up." 

"Miss Crouch, it is not safe for you to stay here." The headmaster reiterated. "I did not come here just to tell you that, I came here to ensure that you spend the remainder of the summer in a house that is safe." 

"I'm of-age, there is simply nothing that you can do to force me to leave here and go and spend some time in one of those orphanages that wizards and witches end up in." Ophelia fold her arms tight across her chest and crossing her legs. "I'm of-age. You can't force me-"

"I do not want to force you, Miss Crouch." Dumbledore said softly. "I can't force you, you are correct, however I hoped that by me coming here it would show you the urgency of the matter. I am not trying to punish you for what you believed to be the answer to your father's disappearance."

"He told me to do that, I didn't think it was a good idea." Ophelia snapped as her irritation spilled, before she realised what she had said and her eyes widened. 

"Miss Crouch, let me tell you once more, I already know that your father is alive, and I know that he is a member of the Death Eaters." Dumbledore told her. "I am not going to go to the Ministry and tell them you told me so." He sat forward, the table setting of afternoon tea suddenly, slowly, floating to the side to provide less obstruction. "How can I convince you to understand the severity of the situation at hand." 

She didn't reply instantaneously. Ophelia had allowed her upset to get the better of her just moments before and she couldn't let it happen again. As such, she wanted to take a moment to think, to decide what the very best question would be. One swam to the front of her mind. 

Ophelia cleared her throat. "How do you know that my father is not only allowed, but also a member of the Death Eaters?" She questioned. "I can't imagine they would be very welcoming." 

Dumbledore mirrored her previous actions, in that he didn't respond as quickly as Ophelia would have liked him to. "As a child, I presume your father made it a point to teach you the recent history of the wizarding world. I also presume those lessons mainly focused on the war and the part the Death Eaters played, as well as the ideology shared by many of the stricter Pureblood families." Ophelia nodded, albeit slowly. "Did your father ever mention the Order of the Phoenix." 

"Yes." She replied shortly. "In that Peter Pettigrew betrayed the Order as he joined the Death Eaters and that is what led to Voldemort going to Godric's Hollow on the 31st of October and his... death." 

"The Order of the Phoenix has returned to it's active state as of the beginning of this summer. Upon leaving this house, I will be taking you to the safe house from which the Order is operating." Dumbledore continued. "I can assure you that you will be well protected there."

"You did not answer my question." Ophelia pointed out. "Neither have you explained what this supposed 'danger' is." 

"The Order has a member who is a part of the Death Eaters rankings which allow us to monitor their activity." Dumbledore told her. "Unfortunately, I cannot reveal the reason why it would be unsafe for you to stay here, however, there is someone who would be better suited to inform you of why who is a member of the Order. Someone who I believe it is a necessity that you speak to."

Ophelia could no longer think of a snappish remark to reply to him. She did not want to admit it, but somehow he had managed to pique her interest. "I suppose you aren't able to reveal who this person is, either." She hummed. 

"No, I am not." Dumbledore said. "Miss Crouch, I understand why you may doubt my words, however I cannot express the importance of you spending the rest of the summer in a place that is safe, and well-protected. Should your father not have disappeared at the beginning of the summer then perhaps you would have been able to stay here, but instead he decided that it would be best for him to go into hiding, and leave you unprotected." 

Her lips pursed, and she leant forward to take a sip of her tea. That was correct; whilst she was more than happy to have free reign over the house during the summer as the only living descendant of the Crouch lineage, there was an inkling of resentment that had appeared the very moment she had returned home to find his letter detailing what she needed to do. 

What was expected of her was to uphold the reputation of the family, to present herself as the perfect Pureblooded daughter, with the correct values, etiquette and behaviour. She had never been taught that she would need to orchestrate her father's disappearance and death. That she would have to lie to Ministry officials, and somehow manage to convince them that he was in fact dead, and not run away to join a legion dedicated to serving Lord Voldemort. 

He cared about that more than his daughter. 

"Fine." Ophelia said. "Is it for the rest of the summer?" 

Dumbledore seemed taken aback by that. "Yes. I can have your belongings transported to your room there upon your arrival." 

"But I do expect to be fully informed of the details of this supposed danger. If it means anything short of my death, then I will be moving back here." 

"I can agree to those terms." 

"Good." Ophelia stood up. "Excuse me, I have to go and prepare the elves to look after the manor in my absence. I might be in..." she rolled her eyes, "'danger', but I will be damned if this house goes into disrepair whilst you and your Order try and convince me that somehow I'm going to die." 

And she got up and stalked out of the room, waving her wand behind her as she went. The tea cups and sandwiches floated off behind her and followed her to the kitchen. Perhaps Dumbledore was telling the truth, or, the more likely scenario, he was trying to somehow take advantage of the fact that she, the daughter of a Death Eater, had been left alone and could potentially provide information to this Order. 

Either way, she needed to hide certain... artefacts before she left.

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