*currently being edited before continuing further.
𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗔 (𝗡𝗼𝘂𝗻) - 𝗔 𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗱𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘂𝗹𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲𝘀.
Ophelia Montgomery had it all. Fame, money, the voice of an angel and...
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The smells of Leòmhann Cridhe told so many stories, almost as though the air within was written by authors. A comforting musky book scent, covered in the smell of burning logs and laced with the settled aroma of dried apples was the epitome of home; for Ophelia at least.
A week had passed since Minnie, or rather a tabby cat, had hissed disappointedly at Ophelia and escorted her out of the building; whiskers brushing against her ankles that felt surprisingly intimidating and forceful. Once the unusual looking pair had made it outside, into a car and back to Ophelia's temporary home where the Potter's waited, did the animagus return to her usual form. Even though it had been a week, Ophelia could still hear, visualise and feel the disappointment that came from the older witch.
"Has nothing I've done for you this past year proven how much I care about you?"
Maybe it was because Minnie had said it almost in a whisper. Maybe it was because Ophelia swore there was a red twinge around the rim of her eyes. Maybe it was due to the fact neither the Potter's or Sirius cracked a joke at the statement. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because Ophelia understood.
Despite Minnie speaking normally with Ophelia since their return to Scotland, Ophelia just couldn't shake the memory from her mind. Yet it wasn't just due to the fact she was angry with herself for disappointing the most important lady in her life; it was that realisation. The realisation that Minnie was the most important lady in her life. The recognition that Minnie was the closest she had came to having a mother.
"A knut for your thoughts?" Minerva had been watching Ophelia closely since their return. One reason being because she had simply missed the girl, but the main reason being because she was ashamed at herself for reacting so harshly to the situation.
"Uh, it's nothing." Ophelia shook her head, an action she would do often if she wanted to shake thoughts away, even if it wasn't proven to work.
"Do I need to send a patronus to Albus?" Minnie questioned, taking a seat in the armchair opposite where Ophelia was sat.
"What?"
"Well he is the most skilled Legilimens I know."
"Wow, really witty Minnie." Ophelia couldn't hide a smile though, even if the joke was poor. It meant a lot to her to have such normal interactions with the older lady when her mind was telling her the irrational.
"Here." Minnie, wandless, summoned the floral metal tin that held something that had become another part of 'home' for her. "Have a biscuit."
"I love you."
"I love you too dear."
"No, I love you." Ophelia stated this as a fact rather than a proclamation. "That is what I was thinking about."
