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The start
You know when you have your birthday cake, with all those lovely candles lightning your face up while you draw a big breath to put them all out at once, byt then that one fucking candle just refuses to make peace. Ophelia craved that failure. There was something so pathetically disappointing to try and see blowing out that one candle you snagged from the vendor down the street and pretending like it was an accomplishment.
Is that even enough to be ensured a lucky year from the birthday gods. Her track record says no.
Fuck it sucks being poor.
"Happy birthday Ophelia" she whispered to herself, loud enough so that she could pretend she had company, but quiet enough not to be forced too add "talking to herself" on her checklist to "signs showing that I'm becoming a madwoman who will die surrounded by her 13 cats".
Maybe it would be an improvement, who knows.
Taking one shaky breath before standing up from her, not ideal bed, Ophelia felt somewhat content with her upcoming day. Believe it or not.
It was the 18 August which meant only one thing, the quidditch world cup. Ophelia had a strong liking for the game ever since she first saw a match. She never planned on playing on a team herself, simply because she despised the attention, as well as her fear of getting a bludger to the head and permanently damage her brain, it was a valid thing to worry about, just look at Potter.
Professor Dumbledore had been kind enough to give the girl a ticket for the quidditch cup as a birthday present. Most probably taking pity on her sad life and granting her a day of delight. What a strange man.
She had of course been ecstatic when she received the gift and thanked the old man before hurrying off, quite possibly having called him such during her excitement, cant blame a girl for getting lost in the moment.
A woman soon opened the door to the girlsroom,with grey hair put in a tight bun, a face that was filled with wrinkles, and a stern-looking expression on her face. Ophelia looked over at the woman and gave a small bow of her head.
"Señora Castillo" Ophelia said in a plain voice. Ms. Castillo looked at the girl with a raised eyebrow and a cold look in her eyes.
"Regreso mañana antes del desayuno, de lo contrario habrás consecuencias" ms Castillo told her sternly before exiting the room. Ophelia let out a deep sigh before picking her already packed bags up. She made her way over to the small fireplace that resented in her room and took a big scoop of the ash that laid in a small cup.
