𝓟𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓸𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓫𝓲𝓪 || Regulus Black

6.7 - Recruitment

On a crisp February night, Ophelia Potter found herself alone in the library right before curfew. It seemed to be a common occurrence within the last year or so, but she enjoyed it. She enjoyed the solitude of the library at night and all of the comfort it offered her. 

But she always had to make sure to pack up and leave before curfew, as professors and prefects started guarding the halls and the library as soon as the clock struck eight in the evening. 

At quarter till eight, Ophelia noticed the time on a grandfather clock by the wall and decided it was time for her to go back to her dormitory. She noted her page in the book she was reading on great witches and wizards throughout history and put it back on the shelf where she found it. 

She made sure she had everything she needed before returning to her room. Once she had everything wrapped up, she tucked in her bentwood chair, and headed for the library doors. Before she could leave, she was stopped by a slender, yet burly figure blocking the doorway. 

Ophelia let out a slight gasp, then collected herself and inspected the silhouette standing in the dimly lit arch. She inspected the figure and concluded that the body housed no other than the seventh year captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Lucinda Talkalot. 

"Oh, Lucinda, you gave me such a fright." Ophelia sighed, her hand on her chest as she caught her breath. 

"We need to talk, Ophelia Potter." Lucinda told her sternly. She spoke in a deep voice, and that accompanied by the ominous tone, her assertive body language, and the mysterious lighting surrounding her all made for a perfectly dreadful sight. 

"Can it wait until tomorrow? I have to get to my dorm."

"No, it's actually quite urgent. But don't fret, it can be quick and if all goes smoothly, we will both end the hour satisfied."

Ophelia obviously thought it was bizarre to speak ominously the way Lucinda spoke to her, as well as having such an odd request like hers, but complied nevertheless. 

"Alright, then, let's chat in the hallway here."

Lucinda moved out of the way a little bit, just enough to let Ophelia pass through. Then, the two of them stood face to face in the barely lit corridor. 

"Ophelia Potter, aged sixteen, sixth year." Lucinda began to list. "Your brother is James Fleamont Potter, aged nineteen, and lives with his childhood sweetheart Lily Evans. You have a little grey cat which you call Dusty. You adore her so dearly though you know she doesn't have many years left. You've never felt like a real Slytherin, and that often causes you distress. Does that sound like you?"

Ophelia was beyond creeped out by that description of herself. It was mainly basic information about her, but it was nothing that a stranger like Lucinda Talkalot should know or be able to recite like that. 

"How do you know all of that?"

"I know quite a bit about you, Ophelia Potter." She said, displaying a clearly insincere smile. "You should be flattered over it. It's all because I, we, want to become closer to you."

"Who's 'we'?" Ophelia asked, a sullen and frightened look overtaking all other emotions expressed on her face. 

She took a glance over Lucinda's shoulder and found nothing but empty hallway as far as the eye could see. And behind Ophelia was just a plain wall, so she knew there was absolutely no one else around them. It worried her, but she didn't know if she would feel better or worse having someone else around for this. 

"You should obviously be familiar with Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord. We are a group made for his loyalty. A group of people just like me and you who are loyal to him and him only."

Ophelia could feel every muscle in her body tense up at the mention of Voldemort. The reason for the war destroying the world around them. The reason for all the extra security in Hogwarts. The coals fueling the nightmares of so many witches and wizards. She couldn't believe that Lucinda had even dropped his name like that, let alone say that she is a loyal follower of his. 

Ophelia had found herself completely speechless, yet Lucinda continued to speak.

"Think of it as a recruitment of sorts. It's an offer to join an elite group of us who are loyal to none other than the Dark Lord himself. He has given us so much. And though you seem frightened right now, I can guarantee that joining us will benefit you. As the most powerful wizard to ever live, he has given us power, purpose, all that one could ever want." 

Ophelia was curious, but kept her brave face on and held her head high, not even wanting to completely process what she was being told. 

"All you could ever want in exchange for your soul. I would say humanity but no one joining that monster had ever had any to begin with." Ophelia said bravely.

"That's funny." Lucinda said shooting Ophelia yet another insincere smile. "See? You've already got the head strength and the moxie. You could join us, be a good girl and a real Slytherin, and you could have everything else you would ever want." 

Ophelia attempted to swallow in her throat, disregarding all negative feelings, and looked up at Talkalot. 

"I don't want to be a part of whatever this is." Ophelia shook her head, teardrops forming along her eyelids. "I'll never be one of you." 

"You already are, dear girl. You just need to join us and you can be better." Lucinda told her. 

Ophelia ignored her, and pushed past the tall Quidditch captain who had her cornered in the hallway. She started to walk away briskly towards her dormitory, but let out a few last words. 

"I'm not like you at all. Leave me alone." She said tearily. 

"Fine." Lucinda raised her voice as Ophelia walked farther away. "Then you will die same as your little friend Regulus, pathetic and alone. That's what he said."

She enunciated the 'he' in a way that told Ophelia exactly who Lucinda was referring to. 

Though it scared her, Ophelia shut her eyes and continued to run away, ignoring Talkalot and choosing not to believe the last part of what she had told her. 

"You don't know me." Ophelia said quietly as she wiped a stream of tears from her cheek.