Dialogue - #7E64A1 || Ministry Of Magic Level 8
As per usual, Ophelia was up at the crack of dawn. She was already dressed in her deep scarlet robes with a matching red lip, cooking breakfast when her brother stumbled into the kitchen, still half asleep. "How on earth do you do it?" Orion asks when he sees his fresh faced sister, wide awake and dressed while he was still wearing his pyjama bottoms with golden snitches all over them. Laughing softly at her brothers disheveled appearance, Ophelia merely shrugs before placing a steaming hot plate in front of him, "Not all of us are adored Quidditch players who get to make their own schedules," She retorts, then plating up some breakfast for herself and taking a seat with her brother at the breakfast bar. "That's not true, it's just not peak season so I don't have to train so much," Orion says, defending his profession. "You're right, it's a tough life being the adored seeker of the English National Quidditch team." She teases, watching her elder sibling scoff down his breakfast while she paced herself with her own.
Once breakfast was finished, Ophelia quickly jumps out of her seat and dumps the plates in the sink, "Well since I cooked breakfast and have an actual job to get to, you can clean the dishes," Ophelia grins cheekily, biting her tongue. Not giving her brother time to complain she kisses his cheek and heads for the door. "Lia, wait-" Orion calls out after her, which has her turning on her heels just as she is about to leave, "I'm really proud of you little sis," He beams and Ophelia can't help but feel her heart melt a little. Her brother was truly the only man she could trust. "I'll tell you all about it when I'm back." Ophelia promises hearing him shout out "Good luck!" As she leaves their apartment and heads for the lift.
Growing up in the suburbs, Ophelia wasn't quite used to the Muggle contraptions she's had to use since coming to London. Especially the lifts, they just baffled her. Of course she knew the mechanics of the thing but it just seemed so ugly she hated being trapped inside the steel coffin and much preferred taking the stairs but as she lived on the 9th floor, Ophelia figured she didn't really have time to spare traipsing down all of them today.
Finding her way to the exit, Ophelia headed next-door to the odd little antique shop most wouldn't even notice when walking past. Greeting Hector with a wave, the tiny man hobbles over to Ophelia and embraces the young girl in a hug. "Ah my dear, it's good to see you!" Hector was a dear friend of Ophelia's parents and quickly became hers once she moved to London. "Hey Hector - I'd love to chat but I have to get going." Ophelia apologises heading to the large fireplace that was hidden behind rows of old books and odd looking clocks. Most of them were used as port keys, although Ophelia didn't like to use them. She much preferred the Floo Network. "Oh of course you're starting at the ministry today," Hector gushes, seemingly more excited about Ophelia's job than she was, "Best of luck, and give your parents my regards when you next see them, would you?" The elderly man asks, smiling at the thought of his childhood friends. "Of course," Ophelia agrees stepping into the fireplace, "Bye now! She says before loudly announcing her destination and throwing the powder.
And with that, the girl disappeared. Before quickly reappearing in the Ministry. Taking a deep breath, Ophelia runs a hand through her cropped black hair and heads for Level Eight. She couldn't decipher whether it was fear or excitement she was feeling. Deciding it was probably a little of both Ophelia tries to push her anxiety to the back of her mind. While internally the girl was rather nervous, not a second of that worry played on her ever calm features. Finding where she figured the Minister would hold his speech, Ophelia notices a fair few people already in the room and takes a seat a few away from anyone else. Nobody seemed to be seated with someone else and Ophelia figured she'd follow suit. Besides, she didn't recognise anyone there.