O P H E L I A L O V E G O O D

Ophelia had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to say. What did you say to your boyfriend's mother when she was clearly on her deathbed?

They had arrived at the hospital the following morning and James was in a disheveled state. She had no clue what to say that could possibly make him feel better.

James had left a short while ago to go get his mother something to drink leaving her alone with Euphemia.

"Dear," she wheezed out and Ophelia looked up. The woman raised her hand and waved her over, "Come here."

Ophelia nibbled on the inside of her lip but walked over, sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed. Euphemia grabbed her hand and Ophelia was surprised with how tight the grip was.

"Be good to him, will you?" she requested. "He needs someone like you to mellow him out." Ophelia smiled sadly at the women, "He's always been a bit of a dreamer."

This caused her to laugh. Ophelia was always considered the dreamer because of how she presented herself. To have someone she just meant know that she was more of a realist than anything else was comforting in an odd way.

"He is," Ophelia agreed. She placed her hand over the women's, "I'll take care of him. I promise."

"Good..." she trailed off. "That's good...He's got a big heart."

J A M E S P O T T E R

James was about to re-enter his mothers hospital room but stopped when he heard voices talking. It was Ophelia and Euphemia.

"He always has his heart in the right place," Ophelia explained. "While he can be a bit oblivious from time to time, he means well."

"And you love him?" Euphemia asked.

"Of course I do," she replied. "I always will."

James knew that Ophelia was the only person he could ever imagine spending the rest of his life with. Did this mean she felt the same way? Or was she just trying to placate his dying mother?

He shook his head slightly before he knocked on the door and entered the room. Now probably wasn't the best time to be thinking about that.

Ophelia looked up upon hearing him enter the room. She smiled at him and he felt his heart stop. He was certain that would never change.

He walked over to the bed and handed his mother the drink. "I'm not thirsty," she told him, waving her hand slightly.

He frowned, "You really should drink. You need to stay hydrated." She shook her head and he placed the drink on the side table. "At least try later."

S I R I U S B L A C K

As soon as James told him that Fleamont was dead and Euphemia was not looking too good, he hadn't known what to do with himself.

He knew they were older than most parents but they weren't that old. At least not old enough that they should die soon. But that happens when your immune system isn't strong enough to fight off Dragon Pox. According to James anyway.

"Sirius," someone spoke up and his head shot up at the noise. He had run off into the Forbidden Forest soon after talking to James. It was the only thing he could think of to make things even remotely better.

Or maybe running away was just second nature to him.

Sirius wiped under his eyes quickly, hoping to conceal anything that indicated that he had been upset. "Hey, Moony," he greeted as he stood up, pushing himself up using the tree.

"Hey," he replied, eyeing the boy as he approached him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he answered.

"You don't look-" Sirius pulled the boy toward him and turned them around so the boy was pressed against the tree. "What are you doing?" Remus asked, scanning the boy's face.

"Kissing my boyfriend," he shrugged before leaning in and kissing the boy.

"Hang on," Remus mumbled against his lips. He placed his hand on the boy's chest and pushed him away gently. "Sirius, what's going on?"

He shook his head, "We don't have to talk."

Sirius pushed him back against the tree and Remus shook his head. "I think we do."

The boy huffed as he stepped back from him, "I don't want to talk. If that's what you came here to do, you can just leave."

"No," he protested and Sirius stopped walking away. He turned around with a raised eyebrow. "We had a deal. We were to be completely open with each other. This is not that."

Sirius shook his head, "This is different."

Remus walked over to him, "No, it isn't." He raised his hand to Sirius's face and the boy instinctively leaned into his touch, "What happened?"

"Fleamont, he's-he's dead," his voice broke and Remus's expression softened. "And Euphemia-" his statement was cut off by a sob that escaped his throat.

He fell into Remus's chest and Remus immediately wrapped his arms around him in comfort. "Shh, shh," he said soothingly, "It's going to be okay."

Sirius shook his head, "No, it won't."

O P H E L I A L O V E G O O D

"Hey," Ophelia greeted as she entered the Potter household. Visiting hours were up and after much coaxing by both Ophelia and Euphemia, they managed to get James to leave. They had to do it the same way every day. Ophelia made a trip to the store so they had food to eat during their remainder of their stay.

"James?" she inquired as she closed the door behind her. She placed the bags on the kitchen table and walked further into the house. "James, are you here?"

Ophelia made her way through the house when she heard a noise. She stopped in front of a room and hesitated. She knew this to be his parents room because he had been avoiding it pretty much the whole week.

She opened the door slowly and the smell of roses invaded her senses. "James?" she whispered, not wanting to enter the room especially if he wasn't in there. It felt wrong.

She heard a clattering noise and she opened the door further, stepping into the dark room. She flipped the light switch on and her eyes widened slightly.

On the floor surrounded by glass shards sat James, who had bloodied hands covering his face as he cried. She immediately made her way over to him, kneeling down next to him as carefully as she could. "James," she tried. "Hey, look at me," she requested before moving his hands away from his face. "Come on," she said as she stood up, taking his hand in hers, "Let's get you cleaned up."

"I didn't mean to," he said after a moment. Ophelia dusted the glass that littered his clothing off onto the floor. She would come clean it up later. "I was just in here and then..."

"It's okay," Ophelia assured him as she led him out of the room. He was completely out of it, muttering an apology that she couldn't quite hear.

She pulled him into his room and entered the bathroom that was attached to it. She turned the water onto cold, hopeful that it would jolt him back to reality if nothing else would.

Ophelia helped him into the shower, not bothering to take his clothes off. He stood there doing nothing and she let out a sigh before getting in with him.

She pulled his jacket off of him and placed it in the sink along with his shirt. She took his hand in her and began to gently rub the blood from it as he watched her.

"I'm sorry," he apologized and she wanted to tell him to stop apologizing but thought better of it.

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"You shouldn't have to do this," he replied and she looked up at him. He was himself, at least mostly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for that," she shook her head. "I will always take care of you."

"Always?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

She nodded, "Always."

After she finished helping James get cleaned, she changed her own clothes before making her way back to his parents room.

She entered the room with a huff. She knelt down next to the glass shard and began to sweep them up as best as she could.

"What happened here?" someone asked from behind her and she turned to see Sirius leaning against the door frame.

"James," she answered simply. "I left to get groceries."

"You left him alone?"

"I didn't exactly have a choice if we planned to eat," she informed him, resuming her work. "Where have you been?"

"Around," he shrugged as he entered the room. He looked around for a moment, "How as he?"

"As good as he can be," she replied simply. "She's only getting worse," she explained, "It's good that you came today because-"

"I already talked to her," he cut her off and she looked up at him in surprise.

"You did?" she inquired. "When?"

"I was just there with Remus," he answered.

"After visiting hours?"

"It doesn't take much to sneak in."

She stood up and wiped her hands on her jeans. The room still smelled strongly of roses and Ophelia had concluded when she came back in that James had broken one of his mother's perfume bottles.

"It's nice of you to finally help out," she replied but closed her eyes. She shook her head, looking over at the boy, "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's alright," he cut her off, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Thank you."

She grew confused at this, "For what?"

"For taking care of James."

She nodded, "I've been getting that a lot lately."

"Mia seems fond of you," he informed her as he took a seat at the foot of the bed.

Ophelia smiled sadly, "Yeah, I just wish I had met her sooner." She paused for a moment before she sat down next to him on the bed, "How are you handling this?"

He laughed, "Not well."

"Have you talked to James since he told you?" she asked him. He shook his head. "He's in his room. I think it'll help if you guys talk."

"Right," he nodded. He stood up from the bed, "Um, Remus will be coming over later once he talks to his parents so don't freak out if you hear any noises."

Ophelia nodded, "Yeah, got it."

J A M E S P O T T E R

When he received the letter from the hospital, he didn't know what he was supposed to do. He knew it was coming. The doctors had told him it would be happening. He could see that it was happening. None of that made it easier.

Because his parents were both gone now and he was an orphan. What was he supposed to do with that?

He also had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say to Ophelia after the incident two days ago. He had been completely beside himself. He didn't even remember entering his parents room all he remembered was Ophelia leading him into the shower.

Always. She had said she would always take care of him. But what did she mean by always? Did she mean during however long their relationship lasts? Or always for the rest of their lives?

He shook his head slightly, now wasn't the time to be talking about this. His distant uncle or cousin or something was talking to him about his parents and he was supposed to be listening.

The funeral had gone by smoothly, and James was grateful that it didn't feel too long. He wasn't sure how long he would last.

Ophelia squeezed his hand in comfort and he relaxed. Ophelia. She had been his rock through this whole thing. He was surprised she hadn't lost it on him.

"I'm sorry for your loss, James," the man apologized, patting him on the shoulder before walking off. That was something he couldn't understand. Wasn't it their loss too? So shouldn't they have said I'm sorry for our loss? Or was that just not proper etiquette?

"James," Ophelia spoke up and he shook his head slightly.

"Hmm?" he replied.

"Everyone's gone."

"What?" he asked before he looked around, blinking in surprise. All those who were left were the servers and Sirius, Peter and Remus. "Oh," he let out a breath of relief.

She pulled his hand gently. "Come on," she said with a comforting smile, "Let's get you home."

He nodded. Home, he thought to himself. He wasn't entirely sure where that was anymore.