Who: Evan and Ophelia When: Sunday, 13 July 1978 Where: Ophelia’s home What: Evan goes to her Rating/Warnings: Dark themes Status: {Closed, complete or incomplete}
Now that it was over, his anger was gone. Evan had work to do. He pulled his wand out from under his Mother’s body, and casually stepped over the body of her husband as he walked back to the library to put his father’s wand back where it belonged. He felt better with his own wand in hand again, though he did still use his Father’s wand to repair the few things that had broken in the library before setting it back on its place on his Father’s desk.
Satisfied the library was unharmed, he walked back into the Entry, ignoring the bodies laying where they had fallen and crossed to the rooms tainted by the Mudblood - the dining room and sitting room. The master suite was above it. With a slice of his wand, the monster heads ignited, flames soon began licking at the ceiling.
Evan turned to his house elf. “Waldo,” he commanded, “you are to let this fire burn. I would that this room, the room above it, be destroyed. You will let them be destroyed. And more besides if it will happen. But you are to be in the library. You are not to let anything harm the library. Under no circumstances will this fire hurt anything that was my Father’s, do you understand?”
“Yes, Master Evan.” The house elf squeaked, running from the flames to stand guard in the entry, between the growing fire and the library.
Evan set another fire casually in the Mudblood’s study as he followed the elf past the bodies once more. He was not done with the house elf yet. “They were murdered by Deatheaters.” Evan commanded his elf, pulling his sleeve back to reveal the mark on his arm. “It is not a lie.” Evan pulled out his mask, waving it at the elf again. “The fire, everything was done by Deatheaters.”
Evan put his mask on as the flames started to grow, and strode out through the front door. He looked back, watching how the fire lit up the house on one side against the night. He wished he had more time to appreciate it. He didn’t. The fire would draw people here soon. He had to be gone before then. But he had one last spell to cast before he could leave. Evan cast the Dark Mark into the sky above his house, marking it, and the destruction for the Dark Lord. This time he didn’t stand back to admire the effect, and immediately Apparated to Ophelia.
He landed as close as he could to her house. He removed his mask as he approached her door. He didn’t need to wear it here, with her. She was safe. What he needed as an alibi. There was no doubt they would question him. He had to ensure that they did not question him for long.
Evan had no idea how he looked; he had not relaxed enough to feel his own injuries, and he had not given Waldo sufficient time to repair what he could before he left. He should initiate a fight with Fourth. He probably did not have the time though. This had been unplanned. Ophelia could heal. Like him, she had hidden injuries before. Ophelia could fix this.
Ophelia heard the faint buzz that told her someone was approaching, and she moved to open the door. Her eyes widened as she saw Evan before her, covered in soot and bruises. A fast glance around to ensure no one would be there except him and she stepped back so he could walk inside, then ran over to her personal workshop, muttering to herself for a moment. “Bruise salve, healing potions, shower…” Her eyes moved to him again and flicked over him. “Skele-grow? Or just a spell…” She was efficient and really right now she was not positive as to what happened, but she knew she had to be an effective alibi for whatever it was. “Come on. Shower, and I’ll get the salves on you. You’ll have to strip down so I can get everything…”
“It is done.” Evan confirmed as he walked with her towards… wherever she was directing him too. The adrenaline of the events of the evening was fading, his energy was dropping. “He is dead. I have dreamed of his from the moment her married Mother. And it is done.” His words no doubt confirmed Ophelia’s suspicions, though he did not confess directly.
Ophelia kept up her efficient tone, pretty much temporarily discarding what he said. “Evan. Upstairs. Strip. You were here all night, darling boy, and of course we both need a shower, don’t you think?” She was detached from the fact that she would have to, to support this, imply that she regularly showered with him. Because the salve needed to be put on wherever he was injured, and so she would have to be with him unclothed. And if someone got here before he got dressed and all and caught this? She would have to be at least damp as well.
He obeyed, climbing the stairs mechanically. “I did not happen as I planned it.” He continued, sitting on the toilet seat to undress to comply with her orders, pausing to look up at her with eyes that were now haunted. “Mother is dead.” The pain of her loss - the final loss - was clear. She had chosen her husband over him.
“You were here all night. You know nothing of this.” Her voice had softened though and she bent to hug him, carefully. Her own clothing would need to go. Right now though he needed comfort, and she lightly stroked over his hair, kissing his forehead. “You’re with me, where you belong. Everything will work out as it should, Evan…”
Everything had worked out. It was done. He wrapped his arms around her when she hugged him, holding her, wanting, needing the contact. He wasn’t really conscious of his own state of undress, but he was of his need for contact. He began shaking slightly as he hugged her, the magnitude of what had happened catching up with him. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as the shaking intensified. For the moment, Ophelia was his only anchor.
Ophelia felt the shaking and simply held him, murmuring softly, comforting words. Letting him know that things were okay, even if they weren’t. That he was with her and he was safe, which if she had any say, was the truth. She rubbed his shoulders gently and rocked him, letting him get out whatever tension he could with her. He would have to go to Elizabeth later, she knew that, but she could give him this now.
He didn’t cry, not tears at least, but he was crying in her arms. A broken boy who had just lost his mother. “She chose him.” In the end, his mother had chosen the man who hurt her son over him. Again. For the last time. It was a few minutes before the shaking finally stopped, and he took a shallow, steadying breath.
A flicker of annoyance crossed her face at the words, though it was shoved down quickly. It was not a choice she would make. Her children would always come first, she would protect them no matter what, she knew that. “You’re here with me, Evan. I am choosing you, and you’re safe and we’ll make this right.” When he stopped shaking she pulled back, picking up the jar of salve and very gently starting to apply it to him.
Evan looked up at Ophelia, watching as she smeared the salve across his skin. The expression in his eyes was still open, unguarded, and haunted, but he didn’t reply to her words. He just watched her working, following her hands as she worked.
She continued to talk, mostly just to keep her mind busy. She did not know what she was saying so much, just that she needed to be a distraction while she was doing this. He could not think of what he just did. After the salve was on his body, she looked him over. “What hurts?” Physically she could fix things.
Evan shook his head. “Nothing.” He was past the point of pain. He also had fought back rather than just taking the beating as he had done in his youth. He wasn’t aware of the bruises or cuts, but he had avoided major bone breakages this time. Really, the battle had not taken very long from start to finish. Evan couldn’t really remember the details of it, if he had thought about it.
Ophelia stepped back to look him over, making sure she had treated all the visible wounds before moving to her shower. She turned it on and looked over at him, biting her lip. Could he manage to clean himself? She imagined so, and if not, she could always help after the fact. “Come now, Evan. It’s time to get washed up…” She gently pulled him up (hoping he would help, as he was much bigger than she was) and guided him toward the shower.
He was not completely there mentally anymore but with prompting, he could take directions. He did look surprised when he felt the water on his body, but did move to follow her suggestion - once she had put the soap into his hand at least - and began scrubbing the soot and blood from his body. The mark on his left forearm did not scrub off though, no matter how many times he rubbed at it. He formed a fist, flexing the arm as he stared at the mark burned into his flesh.
Ophelia simply watched. The arms of her shirt were dampened from having to physically hand him the soap, but she was able to make sure that he got himself entirely clean. She watched in silence as he scrubbed at his mark, a tiny frown marring her face. Same thing Regulus had done, really, though she guessed maybe for different reasons. After he seemed clean, she reached in and guided him out, turning off the water. “Time to dry off, Evan…” She grabbed a towel and carefully wrapped it around his waist before taking another to dry him more fully.
Evan sighed, taking Ophelia into his arms again when she tried to dry him. He needed the physical comfort, and he trusted Ophelia. Did she trust him? “I should not have brought this on you…” He was supposed to protect her, not the other way around. This was the choice she had mentioned before, wasn’t it, when she saw his future. “What am I going to do, Ophelia?” Evan asked.
“We are going to behave as though we know nothing. They will come and question us both. You were here with me all evening. We had dinner. Your favorite, shepherd’s pie, of course. There are leftovers stasis charmed on my counter, as per usual.” Ophelia hugged him back and sighed softly. “If they do not come within an hour or so, I will send you to Elizabeth. They will question me and she will be able to relax you so that when they finally get to you you will be able to feign shock.” Also because Ophelia knew his difficulty lying, and hiding an affair, being caught in it? That was a reason for him to be nervous.
Evan nodded. Yes, she made sense. He frowned, aware of the position he put her into. “I have gotten you wet.” He released her from his arms to finish drying himself. Though Evan spoke of the practical thing but was aware too of the deeper position she was in now because of him. “I would not that you be questioned… You have done enough for me already.” If he was lucky, they would not seek him out - seek out Ophelia - until the morning. The fire and investigation would occupy them enough that they would not immediately scour England looking for him. “I have imposed too much on you already. I will to Elizabeth so that they have no reason to speak to you overmuch if they would seek me before morning. And if they do not, I will go home to change before work as usual.” She was right, they had to act as usual. And she reminded him, “I did not eat. Not since lunch. And we must speak to your house elf too.” He was becoming practical again - his breakdown passing as practical matters reasserted themselves. He was still fragile though.
“It’s just water.” Ophelia’s voice was soft as she spoke, offering a half smile and touching his arm. “It’s not a big deal. I will dry off, no melting or anything.” She knew he needed the comfort, so she was not about to reprimand him for wetting her clothes. “If they come before morning, I will tell them I think you went home, as it is not appropriate for me to keep you here overnight. If they go looking for you, they’ll figure there’s something I don’t know, I think.” Which would be a mistaken assumption, but as he was courting her, she would pretend, that was not a big worry.
“And your house elf… she will tell them I came for dinner. I should have something for dinner…” Evan turned to his clothing, casting a general cleaning charm over the lot of it before picking up his pants and shorts… and then realized that Ophelia probably did not want to see his shorts, or him in nothing but his shorts, and she had now seen him naked. He was comfortable with his body, but knew that Ophelia was not comfortable with the male body in general, never mind his. “I owe you an apology for this too.” He acknowledged softly, eyes fixed on his shorts.
“You needed me.” Ophelia shrugged slightly and motioned him to dress. “I will go and get you a meal. You dress. I will make sure things are handled.” She exited the bathroom to head to the kitchen and put together a plate. It gave him a few moments to compose himself, and allowed her to do the same.
Evan frowned at the door after Ophelia’s departure, and sighed heavily. He was supposed to protect Ophelia, not the other way around. He dropped the towel, putting on his shorts and pants, though he paused to inspect his shirt for damage or signs of the conflict (and making a couple repairs) before finally donning it. He shouldn’t delay; he needed to leave before Ophelia was drawn into this more than she already was. Evan ran his hand through his hair and came downstairs to find Ophelia again. He felt insecure.
Ophelia got the plate together for him, casting warming spells to make sure it was nice and hot for him. She set a place at the table for him, and one for her just in case someone came. She did not really want to eat again, but she would at least pretend to for now because it was what would be considered normal. When he came down, she rose to her feet and walked to him, hugging him. “Come to eat now?”
Evan sat, though he was slow to leave her embrace. He clearly craved the contact tonight. He watched her not looking at the food itself when he finally began to eat. “Perhaps we should spend a weekend abroad soon. I mean, if you would like that.”
“I believe that would be nice. Where should we go?” Her eyes moved to meet his and she half-smiled, reaching to touch his shoulder. “You don’t have to do anything for me for this, Evan, you do need to know that. You need me. I am soon to be your fiancee. It is my role to be your help when you require it, your protection. We care for each other. That is how it works.”
“It is mine to protect you, Ophelia. That is why you accepted my suit.” Evan could be stubborn sometimes. “I never considered travelling, unless Grandfather needed me to go somewhere for the business.” He was an English boy who liked England. “I would take you anywhere you fancied to visit.”
“I accepted your suit, Evan, because you are a good man and I trust you. It does not mean that we cannot be there for each other. I would prefer an equal partnership, rather than always falling into the damsel in distress position.” Ophelia was stronger than that, after all, even though there were occasions that left her slightly weak. “I think I should like to see Paris one day. I hear it is really quite beautiful?”
Evan nodded, accepting her words - and focusing on the easier part of the conversation. “We can go to Paris. There are regular trains and portkeys.” He couldn’t entirely leave the rest alone though he had tried. “I do not see you as a damsel in distress. It does not mean it is not my duty to protect you.”
“And in exchange it is mine to ensure your safety as well. As I said, I would prefer us to have an equal partnership.” Ophelia smiled and shook her head teasingly. “Sometimes you need me to be strong for you, just like sometimes I need you to be strong for me. And yes, I think Paris would be nice…”
Evan nodded. Paris would be easy enough to arrange. “I can speak to Grandfather.” He sighed softly. “If I am to protect you… I ought leave now. Such that if they decide to look for me, they have no cause to disturb you. I imagine… they will wish to speak to you in the morning to confirm I was here for dinner.” He might not have been able to protect her from this entirely but that he could do.
“Please be careful, Evan.” Her eyes fixed on his and she stroked his cheek softly. “I do care deeply for you and I would be pained if you were harmed.” She worried more than she could admit, even though she knew what was coming, and the fact was, all of it served to strain her future more than anything with her family ever had.
Evan bent his head to kiss her forehead gently. “I will not to Azkaban, Ophelia. You need not fear. I hated the Mudblood, but I loved my Mother. They will wish to speak to me, but they will have no reason to keep me. I was not home. And Grandfather will help make sure they do not keep us overlong either.”