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Chapter Text

It has been a century since Katherine was betrayed by one she once believed loved her . One hundred years since she had turned into the creature of night. Now she wandered throught the city of France still hiding from Klaus

She was famished. She had not fed in days while travelling. Her thirst for blood had become a sharp and relentless ache. At last, she found a suitable target a drunk man trying to find his way home and drank until the fire dulled within her.

Sated, if only for a while, she turned her thoughts to the city and decided to explore the city in this quite hour

As she wandered through the streets she heard a small, broken sniffle. It came from behind a stone wall. In a flash, she sped towards it there was a child a really small girl crying. She couldn't have been more than five years old.

"Are you hurt?"

The girl flinched "Who are you? Did maman sent you?"

"No, But where are your parents? You should not be out here, It is dangerous."

She sniffled, her voice trembling she answered "Maman was taking me to a nice house where Papa couldn't be mean anymore but he found us and started hurting maman. She told me to run and hide"

Katherine sighed returning her to her parents wasn't an option anymore. She very well couldn't leave the child here. She crouched down and opened her arms towards the child.

"Come along sweetheart, I will take you to a nice house where you will be safe."

With her eyes wide with hope she asked "Will Maman be there?"

Katherine hesitated, but with a bittersweet smile  "No but we will try to looks her, Now come on before you catch a cold."

Chapter Text

It had been 6 years since Katherine made the decision to raise Ophelia.
In the beginning, she had tried to find the girl's mother hoping, perhaps, that there was still a chance for reunion. But the search ended in tragedy. The woman was found the next day, brutally beaten to death by her husband.

Strangely or perhaps not so strangely the man’s body was discovered later that same day. Drained of every drop of blood.

Just a coincidence, of course.

Ophelia had been told that her mother was taken by angels to a beautiful place, where she would be waiting for her one day.

Despite everything, Ophelia remained full of life. She spent her days exploring the forest, chasing butterflies, and talking to the animals as if they were old friends. There was a light in her that not even the past could dim.

It was only later Katherine realised Ophelia was a siphon when she accidentally siphoned from her. Siphons were very rare they couldn't generate magic on their own but had to draw it from other magical sources. She had only met a handful in her hundred years of living.

She had called in favours of several witches she knew to teach Ophelia how to control her powers. But finding one who didn't despise siphons was far more difficult than she'd anticipated.

So instead of relying on others, Katherine began collecting grimoires that mentioned siphons rare texts buried in forgotten corners of the magical world. She studied them relentlessly, determined to understand the nature of Ophelia’s magic.

Now, Ophelia could control her powers with growing confidence, able to perform small spells like making a  flower bloom or lighting candles with a flick of her fingers.

She was trying to complete another one of the grimories while Ophelia was sleeping. The stillness of the night was broken by a whimper from Ophelia's room. In a heartbeat Katherine was beside her.

Ophelia was breathing heavily and her face was tense with fear, she was having a nightmare Katherine realised.

"Helia, sweetheart wake up." Katherine whispered, brushing her hair back. "It's alright, you are safe."

Her eyes fluttered open with tears streaming down her face

"Maman.."

Katherine's heart stuttered. She hesitated.
"No, Helia... it's Katherine"

"Maman don't leave me, papa is going to find me again."

She sighed and gathered the girl in her arms. She held her close, fingers weaving gently into her hair.

She began to hum a lullaby the same one her mother used to sing to her when she was a child. The one she had always imagined singing to her own daughter someday. But fate had never allowed her that dream.

Her daughter had been taken from her the moment she was born torn from her arms before Katherine even had the chance to hold her. She could still remember the aching emptiness of that day, the way her cries had been ignored by her parents, and the cold silence that followed. She had spent years haunted by that loss, mourning a child whose face she’d never seen, whose name she’d never been allowed to speak.

But Ophelia had changed something in her.

What began as an act of protection slowly became something far deeper. She saw her not just as a child she cared for but as her child. With each passing day, Ophelia filled a space Katherine thought would remain hollow forever.

And now, as the girl stirred in her lap, Katherine brushed a hand through her hair, her voice still low in song. She held her not just for comfort, but with the fierce, quiet love of a mother who had finally after so much loss found someone to hold.

She hadn't realised when she has drifted off, but a slight movement beside her stirred her awake. Opening her eyes she saw Ophelia's head resting in her lap, gazing up at her with wide searching eyes.

"Ophelia, are you alright?"

The girl nodded slightly "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course"

There was a pause shy, almost afraid.

"Can I call you maman?"

Katherine felt her breath catch. Her heart beat louder than it had in years. She swallowed.

"If you want to"

Ophelia wrapped her arms around her in a fierce hug, and for a moment, all the centuries of loss, betrayal, and solitude seemed to quiet.

Chapter Text

Ophelia was now nineteen. She and Katherine still lived quietly in France, away from the chaos of the supernatural world or so they thought.

It was an ordinary day. Katherine had gone to meet a coven of witches, hoping to obtain an enchanted amulet one Ophelia could siphon from when needed. Meanwhile, Ophelia had her day planned: baking muffins, feeding her horse, a peaceful walk in the forest, and maybe an hour or two in the library with one of her favorite books.

She had just closed one such book, her fingers still tracing the faded ink, when the sharp crash of splintering wood echoed through the mansion.

She barely had time to react before a blur of movement struck someone had sped into the room, cold fingers clamping around her throat.

“Where is Katerina?” the stranger hissed.

Ophelia’s breath caught. “Who—who are you?”

“I won’t ask again,” he growled. “Where is Katerina?”

“I—I don’t know,” she stammered.

In an instant, she was dragged into the main hall. Seven men stood there, their eyes cold and unblinking. Vampires all of them.

Her arms and legs were bound tightly to a chair. She struggled, but her magic was out of reach without a source. All she could do now was wait for her mother, or a miracle.

“What should we do with her?” asked the man who had tied her up.

Another smirked. “Let’s have a little fun while we wait for Katerina to show.”

One stepped closer, his tone mockingly gentle. “Last chance, girl. Tell us where she is, or we kill you slowly.”

“The threats aren’t working,” one of them said with a grin. “Let me try my methods.”

Ophelia barely had time to brace herself before a blade sank into her thigh. She gasped, biting back a scream. Another knife followed, this one grazing her neck deep enough to bleed, shallow enough to keep her conscious.

Pain seared through her, but she didn’t speak.

She just hoped her mother wasn’t too far away.

"Her blood smells delicious," one of the men muttered, his eyes dark with hunger.

He stepped forward and touched her inappropriately, leaning in to graze her neck with his tongue. Ophelia flinched violently, disgust and fear tightening in her chest.

"Easy," another said with a twisted grin. "Let her speak before you break her."

"She'll kill you," Ophelia whispered, her voice trembling.

They all laughed, cruel and careless.

The one closest to her sneered. "You really think she can take on seven of us alone? Let’s see how she reacts when she finds your broken body."

With a snarl, he threw her against the wall, pinning her by the waist as his fangs sank into her neck. She gasped, her strength draining as fast as her blood. His hands roamed again, violating her space, his grip tightening cruelly.

Darkness crept at the edges of her vision. Her body was going cold. She could barely keep her eyes open as the world around her started to fade.

She woke to the sound of someone crying sobs echoing through the blood-soaked room.

Her eyes fluttered open. The sight that met her was like a nightmare.

Bodies lay scattered across the floor, limbs twisted unnaturally. Blood stained the walls and pooled beneath her. And in the center of it all, kneeling and trembling, was Katherine her hands red to the elbows, her face streaked with tears.

“M-Maman…” Ophelia’s voice was barely a whisper.

Katherine looked up sharply, her breath catching in her throat. In an instant, she was at her side, wrapping her in a fierce, trembling embrace.

“Helia you’re alive,” she gasped. “I thought you were gone… there was no heartbeat. I—I still can’t hear a heartbeat.”

Ophelia's eyes widened. Then memory surged back sharp and clear.

The night before, in the kitchen, she’d sliced her hand. Her mother had given her blood to heal the wound. Vampire blood.

Her whole body trembled as the truth set in.

“Maman,” she whispered, “I… I’m  dead.”

Chapter Text

Ophelia Pierce was now a heretic both vampire and siphoner, a creature of rare power and complexity. But the way she was turned had left scars. The trauma of that night still echoed in her quiet moments. Sometimes, in the dead hours of night, she woke gasping skin slick with sweat, heart thudding. She could still feel his hand, cold and crawling, inching across her ribs as if time hadn't moved on at all.

It was Katherine her mother in all but blood who had helped her heal. Over the centuries, they had become inseparable. They shared hundreds of years together, sometimes parting ways to explore the world on their own, only to reunite as if no time had passed at all.

Now, once again, they were apart.

Ophelia wandered the vibrant streets of New Orleans, drawn to its wild magic and hidden darkness, while Katherine had settled at least for now in a quiet little town called Mystic Falls.

New Orleans pulsed with a kind of wild magic she’d only heard whispers of music in the streets, spellcraft in the scent of jasmine and smoke. The air itself seemed to hum with ancient energy, like the city was alive and watching.

She reached the house she had compelled for herself —an old, stately mansion nestled in the center of town. It had once belonged to someone important, though the locals never spoke of them directly. Whispers of power, scandal, and mystery clung to the property like ivy on its stone walls. That suited her just fine. The house was grand, private, and perfect.

Despite everything, some of her old habits remained. She found comfort in the kitchen, and tonight, that meant baking cookies. Her love for sugar hadn’t dulled with the centuries.

Just as the scent of warm cookies filled the kitchen, a knock echoed from the front door. She stilled, instinctively alert. No one was supposed to be here. No one in this town knew her, not her name, not her face.

Cautious, she opened the door to find a young boy, perhaps nine or ten, standing on the doorstep with a small basket of apples. The scent of blood drifted to her, it was subtle.

“What are you doing here?” she asked curiously.

“The mayor sent this,” the boy said, holding out the basket. “For the new owner of the mansion.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze sharpening. The blood was coming from him.

“Are you hurt?” she asked more gently now.

He gave a quick nod and handed her the basket before turning to leave. That’s when she noticed the limp.

“Wait,” she said, stepping forward. “Come inside. I have something for the pain.”

He hesitated at the threshold but eventually stepped inside. She led him to a chair and handed him a small jar of salve from her apothecary shelf.

“Here. Put this on the wound.”

As he applied it, she returned with a plate of cookies. “Would you like one?” she asked but handed it to him before he could answer.

He took it cautiously, chewing in silence. She sat down across from him, watching him quietly.

"You didn't tell me your name."

"I don't got one, mama wouldn't name me till I turned ten incase the fever took me." He looked down "But it took her."

Her heart clenched for the boy
"Would you like to have one?"

"Yes… but only when I’m free from the mayor," he said softly, eyes fixed on the floor. "He says I’m not his, but he keeps me anyway. Says bastards don’t need names." He clutched the basket tighter. "Maybe… when I don’t belong to him anymore… then I’ll deserve one." He took a step back toward the door. "I should be going now."

She walked him to the door. “Come back again,” she said gently. “If you ever need something.”

He nodded once, then limped away into the night.

Chapter Text

It had been months since she settled in New Orleans. During that time, she had immersed herself in learning various forms of magic from the local witches. The city pulsed with supernatural energy, and she soaked in every bit of it.

She soon discovered that the Mikaelsons resided here too, reigning over every supernatural faction with an iron grip. She hadn’t seen them yet but she intended to.

Curious she asked a witch for a favor an invitation to one of their balls. It was a masquerade ball. With a concealment spell to mask her scent, she would slip in unnoticed.

She didn’t want to speak to them. She didn’t even want them to know she existed. She only wanted to see them the monsters who had killed her mother's innocence, her family, whose cruelty had led to her own death. She just wanted to look into their faces and remember.

Ophelia entered the mansion quietly, the soft candlelight of the room playing across the rich emerald folds of her gown. The dress, made of heavy satin, clung to her figure modestly before flaring into a full skirt that swept around her like a forest at dusk. The fabric shimmered subtly with every movement, its surface etched with intricate patterns reminiscent of ivy and wild vines a delicate embroidery that hinted at both elegance and untamed spirit. Her sleeves were fitted to the wrist, ending in a slight puff and fastened with tiny pearl buttons. Her mask was of the same shade of green, it was simple and elegant.

The room was grand, almost overwhelming high ceilings, a sweeping staircase at its center, and the soft clinking of glasses coming from the wine station in the corner. Ophelia needed a drink, badly. Something to calm the nerves coiled tight beneath her skin.

In her haste to reach it, she collided with someone, the impact nearly sending her stumbling. But a firm hand caught her at the waist, steadying her before she could fall. Her eyes snapped upward and met a pair of deep, dark brown ones.

He wasn't wearing a mask

And he wasn’t just handsome, he was arresting. The kind of man who could command a room without saying a word. His face was sharp with elegance, all clean lines and smooth shadows the defined jaw, the sculpted cheekbones, the mischievous curve of his mouth. His dark hair was slicked back neatly, a deliberate contrast to the subtle wildness in his eyes.

"Are you alright, darling?" His voice was low, and laced with a casual charm that made her heart skip.

Ophelia blinked, snapping out of her daze, and gently stepped back, removing herself from his arms. Her pulse was still unsteady, a soft flutter in her chest, but she quickly gathered herself, smoothing the front of her dress.

"I—I apologise. I wasn’t watching where I was going."

"It's quite alright. I don't think I have seen you before otherwise, I would surely remember a face as pretty as yours."

Ophelia felt a rush of heat bloom in her cheeks, though thankfully, the dim lighting of the room kept the blush hidden. She couldn't give him her real name this wasn't her invitation, after all. She had borrowed it from a witch who owed her a favor.

"I'm Charlotte Deveraux," she said smoothly, extending her hand with practiced grace. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Instead of shaking it, he turned her hand gently and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, his lips warm against her skin.

"The pleasure is all mine, madame. I am—"

A sharp clink of glass from the grand staircase interrupted him.

"If everyone could gather please."

He glanced over his shoulder and offered her a regretful smile.

"I'm sorry, darling. It seems I'm needed elsewhere."

And just like that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Ophelia standing with her heart racing.

She turned to see where he had gone and her heart nearly stopped.

There he was, standing on the grand staircase, flanked by three others. They were striking, almost ethereal in their elegance and power, and the resemblance among them was undeniable. They looked like royalty or something far older, far more dangerous.

Then the man at the center stepped forward, raising a glass. He was poised, dressed in a crisp suit, with dark hair and a calm authority in his gaze. His voice carried easily through the room.

"Welcome. Thank you all for joining us. You know, whenever our family is gathered, it's tradition..."

Ophelia didn’t catch the rest. Her ears were ringing, her mind blank with realization.

They were the Mikaelsons.

And the man she had just bumped into the one who had kissed her hand he was one of them.

She was still frozen, trying to process it, when a hand rested lightly on her shoulder. She turned around, heart racing.

It was him again.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice low, smooth, and completely unbothered like he hadn’t just shattered everything she thought she was prepared for.

She nodded mutely, placing her hand in his. Her fingers trembled slightly, but she masked it with a faint smile. Words still eluded her as they began walking toward the ballroom, the soft hum of music wrapping around them like a spell.

After a moment, he glanced sideways at her, his expression unreadable but far too observant.

"I'm sorry we were interrupted earlier," he said casually, like this was any other evening, any other conversation. "I'm Kol Mikaelson."

The name landed like a thunderclap in her chest.

She managed a breath, forcing her lips into a polite curve. “A pleasure,” she replied, voice quiet carefully neutral, even as her mind spiraled.

Kol Mikaelson.
Of all the people in this city...
She had to bump into the psychotic maniac

Soft, slow music floated through the air gentle and elegant, the kind of melody that might have made her smile if she were anywhere else. But here, now, her mind was far too tangled.

They reached the center of the room and instinctively moved into position for a waltz. She placed her hand on his shoulder, the other resting lightly in his palm. His hand slid to her waist, and in one smooth motion, he pulled her closer.

Far closer than what was proper.

Her breath caught in her throat, heart stuttering as their bodies aligned with no room left between them. His touch was confident, bordering on intimate, and though his expression remained composed, there was a glint in his eyes like he knew exactly what he was doing.

And it was working.

He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin. A shiver ran down her spine, her fingers tightening slightly on his shoulder.

"I hope you're enjoying the dance, darling," he murmured, his voice velvet-smooth and laced with amusement.

They continued to glide across the ballroom floor, the world around them fading into a blur of candlelight and soft music. The tension between them was palpable.

She managed a small nod, still unable to find her voice. Words felt too fragile, too revealing in the wake of his closeness. And yet, somehow, she knew he had noticed.

As the final notes of the song drifted into silence, she stepped back, gently slipping from his arms before the next melody could begin.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes. “But I must go I’m already quite late.”

Before he could respond, she was gone, disappearing swiftly into the crowd, her dress vanishing like smoke between shifting silhouettes leaving only the ghost of her warmth in his hands.

She left town the very next day.

Despite her efforts to remain hidden, she hadn’t gone unnoticed. Kol Mikaelson the wildest of the Originals had seen her, danced with her, spoken to her. And though he hadn’t pursued her that night, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he might.

She didn’t know if he’d try to find her, but she wasn’t willing to take that risk. Not when it came to the Mikaelsons.

So, without a word or trace, she vanished leaving New Orleans behind like a half-remembered dream.

Chapter Text

It was Ophelia’s birthday well, as close as it could be. She didn’t know the exact date, only that she had been born sometime between the 1st and 10th of March, more than 400 years ago. Over time, she had chosen March 5th to celebrate a date that felt right as it was a connection with her mother whose birthday was on 5th June, even if history had blurred the truth.

This year, her mother had surprised her by coming to visit in New York. They planned to spend the entire day together, just the two of them.

But first, Ophelia had a quick stop to make she was meeting her friend Claire, the owner of a charming little bookstore she frequently went to. It had become one of her favorite places in the city.

She stepped into the bookstore, the comforting scent of old pages instantly lifting her mood. Making her way to the counter, she halted mid-step, surprised to find a boy standing there instead of Claire.

He looked like he was in his twenties, with tousled blond hair and soft blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight. There was an easy charm in the way he sat, relaxed and unaware of how effortlessly cute he looked.

She shook her head this wasn’t the time for distractions. Steeling herself, she walked up to the counter and, a little more sharply than intended, asked,

“What are you doing here?”

He looked up from the notebook he was scribbling in, surprised by the sharpness in her voice.
“I work here?” he replied, uncertain.

She crossed her arms. “Where’s Claire?”

“Oh are you Ophelia?”

She nodded, still annoyed.

“I’m Alex, Claire’s brother. She’s really sorry she couldn’t be here today she’s sick.”

Her irritation vanished instantly, replaced with concern.

“Is she alright?”

“Yeah, just a viral flu. Nothing serious.”

“Oh. Well…” she hesitated, glancing around, “I’ll just go catch a movie or something in the meantime.”

“Wait,” he said quickly. “Claire couldn’t meet you, but she still wanted to make your day special. She hid your birthday gift in a place that’s special to you both somewhere in the bookstore.”

Ophelia smiled softly as the answer came to her immediately. Without another word, she turned and made her way toward the back shelves, where an old ladder stood.

Her mind drifted back to the first time she had met Claire. It was her very first day in New York, and she’d been searching for books to start filling the empty shelves in her new home.

She’d stepped into the quaint little bookstore and been greeted by the comforting scent of old pages and the whimsical charm of floral wallpaper and soft pink decor. She searched for the fiction section which was tucked in the back, she scanned the shelves, frowning when she couldn’t find the one title she was desperate to read.

“Are you looking for something?”

Ophelia turned and saw a girl standing there, watching her with an easy smile. She had soft, porcelain-like skin and delicate features full lips, a small straight nose, and high cheekbones. Her wavy blonde hair shimmered in the light, and her pale blue eyes were bright and curious.

“Yes… do you have Once Upon a Broken Heart?”

“Oh my god, that’s my favorite book!” the girl exclaimed. “You’ll love it—Jacks is so hot.”

And just like that, a beautiful friendship had begun.

She climbed the ladder carefully and spotted a small box tucked between the top shelf and the wall. Smiling, she reached for it but just as her fingers closed around the box, her foot slipped.

She gasped, clutching the box tightly to keep it from falling, eyes squeezing shut in panic. But before she could hit the ground, strong arms wrapped around her waist, steadying her.

Her eyes flew open.
It was Alex.

He gently lowered her to the floor.
“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she said, slightly breathless. “My leg just slipped.”

He gave a small smile, nodding toward the box in her arms. “So… are you going to open it?”

She nodded and sat on the nearest step to lift the lid. Inside were small, thoughtful treasures: a scrapbook filled with their photos, a handmade birthday card, an annotated copy of her favorite book, and a bouquet of fresh flowers.

Her chest swelled with warmth. It was perfect. Every little detail screamed effort and love.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, running her fingers over the scrapbook.

“There’s more,” he said, suddenly grabbing her hand. “Come with me.”

He led her toward the back room, and when the door opened, she gasped.

It was decorated with balloons and twinkling fairy lights, soft and magical. In the middle of the room sat a small table with a chocolate cake and lit candles.

“Now make a wish,” he said, smiling, “and blow them out.”

She laughed softly, her eyes glistening, and leaned forward to blow out the candles. He began singing her a sweet, off-key birthday tune as she cut a slice of cake.

She took a bite and her eyes lit up.
“It’s delicious, try some,” she said

To her surprise, he leaned in and took a bite straight from her hand. She had meant for him to cut a piece for himself, but apparently, he had other ideas.

She blinked, half amused, half flustered.

“You didn’t have to go through all this.”

“I did it for Claire,” he said casually.

“Of course,” she replied, lips curving slightly. “But you didn’t have to stay and keep me company. You could’ve just left me alone. So… thank you.”

Then, on impulse, she leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I should go, I’m already late,” she said, stepping back.

He nodded, but not before she caught the faint flush rising to his cheeks.

She smiled at the sight, then turned and walked away to get ready for the evening.

Later that night, Ophelia stepped into the restaurant her mother had booked for her birthday. It was elegant and grand, the kind of place where everything shimmered just a little the light from the massive chandelier above reflecting across the polished floors and crystal glassware.

She approached the front desk.

“Good evening. A reservation under Pierce.”

“Right this way, ma’am,” the hostess replied with a courteous smile.

Ophelia followed her through the softly lit dining area. The section they were led to was tucked into a quiet corner, bordered by tall glass walls that revealed a breathtaking city view. The evening lights sparkled like stars against the skyline.

She spotted her mother already seated, waiting with a warm smile.

“Maman, you’re early again,” Ophelia greeted fondly as she took her seat.

Katherine smirked. “No, sweetheart you’re just late again.”

Ophelia laughed softly. “Okay, okay, I admit defeat. Now spill the tea what’s going on in the supernatural world?”

Katherine arched a brow playfully. “Let’s order first. I’ve got some excellent gossip.”

Ophelia practically bounced in her seat. “Now I’m really curious.”

A waitress approached with a notepad in hand. “Good evening. May I take your order?”

“I’ll have a Margherita pizza and a bottle of bourbon,” Katherine said with a confident smile. “And you, sweetheart?”

“Do you have Indian food?” Ophelia asked.

“Yes, ma’am, we do.”

“Great. I’ll have the butter chicken with naan and a glass of red wine, please.”

Their food arrived within minutes, filling the air with delicious aromas.

Ophelia leaned forward eagerly. “Okay, our food’s here. Now tell me what happened?”

Katherine grinned over the rim of her glass. “There’s a new doppelgänger.”

Ophelia gasped. “Oh my god! And how long have you known about this?”

“A few months…”

Ophelia’s jaw dropped. “Maman! You didn’t tell me?”

Katherine chuckled. “I wanted to see your face when I told you.”

Ophelia shook her head in disbelief. “And?”

“She’s in a love triangle with the Salvatores.”

Ophelia burst out laughing. “Are they still not over you? Seriously dating your doppelgänger? And it’s not just one of  them—both? That’s insane.”

Katherine smirked, raising her glass. “Well, you know... it’s hard to get over me.”

Ophelia smiled, but her expression sobered. “Do the Mikaelsons know?”

Katherine shook her head. “Not yet. But they will sooner or later.”

Ophelia leaned forward. “What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to Mystic Falls,” Katherine said calmly. “I plan to strike a deal with a werewolf, a vampire, and the doppelgänger. If it goes well, I’ll finally have my freedom.”

Ophelia frowned. “Are you sure about this?”

Katherine nodded, her eyes steady. “Yes. I already have people on the ground, working for me.”

Ophelia reached across the table, gripping her hand. “Just… be safe. Message me every day. If I don’t hear from you for a week, I will come for you.”

A soft smile touched Katherine’s lips. “Helia, even if this plan doesn’t work, you know I’ve got a dozen more.”

“No, Maman,” Ophelia said firmly. “I know you have plans. But that doesn’t mean I won’t come for you.”

Katherine gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Alright, alright. But give me at least three weeks before charging in, deal?”

“Maman…”

“Please, Helia,” Katherine said softly, her voice suddenly vulnerable. “I don’t want them to hurt you because of me.”

Ophelia’s eyes shimmered, but she nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Chapter Text

It had been three weeks since her mother last contacted her, and Ophelia was truly worried. It wasn’t the first time, either. Just a few weeks ago, she had been at the airport, ready to board a flight to Mystic Falls after days of silence. Her anxiety had reached its peak. But just as she was about to check in, her mother called.

Katherine's voice had been calm, almost too calm, as she reassured her daughter. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry. The doppelgänger’s been stirring up trouble it’s made it difficult to reach out. But I’m handling it.”

She convinced her not to board the flight. Though the call had eased her fears for the moment, Ophelia couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Her mother wasn’t telling her the full truth. Ophelia could feel it in her bones. Something was wrong.

With no flights available Mystic Falls being a small town with only one flight a day. Ophelia had taken a flight to the nearest city to mystic falls and had booked a hotel to wait and finalize her preparations. She had already bought a car, packed her bags, and even arranged for a place to stay in Mystic Falls. All that was left was to feed and go.

After feeding from a girl and compelling her to forget, she was just about to start driving when her phone began to ring.

“Helia, love I’m so sorry for worrying you,” Katherine’s voice came through in a rush. “I’m fine. It was nothing serious, just the Salvatores trying to be brave. Don’t worry, I’m leaving Mystic Falls for a few months.”

Ophelia frowned. She could hear the lie in her mother’s voice too light, too practiced.

“Maman, are you sure? Please, just tell me what happened.”

“Ophelia, I’ll explain everything when we meet. It’s really not serious, I promise. Now, calm down and go enjoy some time with Claire and Alex.”

If her mother wasn’t going to tell her the truth, then Ophelia would just have to find it out herself.

“Alright… call me when you're free. Though I’ll be a little busy for the next few weeks. Alex and I are going on vacation.”

Katherine’s voice perked up immediately. “Are you two finally dating?”

“No, Maman, we’re just friends.”

“Sure,” Katherine teased. “Friends who kiss…”

Ophelia rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll talk to you later, Maman. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

She couldn’t think of any other excuse fast enough. Alex was the easiest way to distract her mother and buy herself some time. Besides, this way Katherine might actually leave her alone for some time

Not that it mattered. She shook her head to herself. Alex was sweet but they were just friends. Friends who happened to make out sometimes. Nothing more.

She drove through the winding roads, the windows rolled down, Taylor Swift playing on full blast as the wind tangled her hair. By the time she reached the house she had bought, the sun was dipping below the horizon.

Tomorrow, her plan would begin the first step to uncovering the truth her mother was hiding.

Mystic Falls thrived on gossip. It was the kind of small town where everyone knew everything about everyone, and secrets rarely stayed buried for long. It hadn’t taken her much time to gather the basics. The Salvatore brothers, the ever-complicated doppelganger, and their little supernatural clique. Now, she had names, connections, and habits mapped out.

The only thing left was getting inside. And for that, she needed a friendly face.

Caroline Forbes.

The bubbly blonde was known for her kindness and need to help. Ophelia had no doubt Caroline would be her way in.

The next morning dawned grey and overcast, the kind of weather that mirrored Ophelia’s mood calm on the surface, but heavy with anticipation. Today was the day she would start pulling the threads.

She stood before the mirror in her temporary bedroom, the silence only broken by the low hum of her straightener. Carefully, she smoothed out her waves until her hair fell sleek and glossy past her shoulders. Her usual bold makeup dark lipstick, sharp eyeliner was replaced with softer tones: warm eyeshadow, a touch of blush, and a rosy tint on her lips. Innocent. Approachable. Exactly how she wanted to be seen.

she mentally reviewed her plan. Every move she made today had to be calculated, every word deliberate. Her charm would be her greatest weapon, and Caroline Forbes her first stepping stone.

After slipping into a soft pastel dress friendly, approachable, non-threatening she tied her locket around her neck, tucked a few herbs into her bag just in case took one last look in the mirror.

Time to blend in.

She stepped outside, the breeze brushing gently against her skin as she made her way down the street. Mystic Falls was already stirring to life.

Time to meet Mystic Falls’ sweetheart.

She walked through the town square, weaving through the morning bustle of the market. Today was the doppelgänger’s birthday an event her friends wouldn’t let pass quietly and Ophelia knew exactly where to find the ever-hospitable Caroline Forbes. If anyone was organizing a celebration, it would be her. All Ophelia needed was an invitation.

Speak of the devil.

Caroline appeared from around the corner, striding toward the Mystic Grill, phone pressed to her ear and expression animated. Ophelia slowed her pace, just enough to catch the conversation.

"Caroline Listen... Keep tonight small please."

Caroline laughed softly, clearly ignoring the request. "Wear something pretty," she said before ending the call with a satisfied smile.

A smirk curved Ophelia’s lips.

Perfect.

She purposely bumped into her.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Caroline turned, steadying herself with a smile. “No worries. Are you new? I don’t think I’ve seen you around and I basically know everyone in town.”

Ophelia nodded. “Yeah, I just moved here yesterday. I’m Ophelia.”

“Caroline,” she replied warmly. “Do you go to Mystic High?”

Ophelia gave a small nod, but before she could respond, Caroline suddenly pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m so excited! We hardly ever get new students.”

But then, Caroline suddenly went stiff. Her smile faltered as she stepped back, staring at Ophelia with narrowed eyes. She must have noticed.

She had no heartbeat.

Without a word, Caroline grabbed her arm and led her toward a quiet alley between buildings.

“You’re a vampire,” she said, voice low and sharp. “Why are you here? Do you work for Klaus?”

The name hit Ophelia like a slap. Her breath caught in her throat. Klaus? What else had her mother kept from her?

"How.. do you know that?"  she stammered. “Wait... are you a vampire too?”

Caroline studied her, the suspicion in her eyes softening just slightly. “How long have you been a vampire?”

Ophelia looked down, her fingers lightly tracing the ring on her hand. “I had an accident… about four months ago. No one really knows how I survived. But after that, everything changed.”

She hesitated, eyes unfocused. “I started craving blood. I could hear things no one else could. I didn’t understand what was happening to me.”

Her hand tightened around the ring. “This ring… it wasn’t mine originally. It was the last thing they found of my grandmother’s best friend after she disappeared. My grandmother used to say that her friend always believed the ring protected her that’s why she never took it off.”

Ophelia gave a soft, hollow laugh. “I didn’t think much of it. Not until one day, I took it off… and the sunlight burned me.”

She glanced at Caroline, something guarded but honest in her expression. “That’s when I understood. Since then, I’ve been figuring things out on my own.”

She looked down, voice quieter now. “My parents thought I was traumatized. They sent me here for a fresh start. But I don’t know what I am. Or what’s happening to me. You’re a vampire too, right? Can you help me?”

Caroline’s expression shifted completely suspicion replaced by sympathy. Whatever she saw in Ophelia’s eyes convinced her she wasn’t a threat.

“Yeah,” Caroline said softly. “I can help. Come on I’m meeting a friend at the Mystic Grill.”

She took Ophelia’s hand and started guiding her down the street, chatting as they walked. Ophelia followed, hiding the smirk that threatened to curl on her lips.

Caroline bought the story. That was easier than expected. Then again, Caroline was young, trusting too trusting. The real challenge would be the Salvatores. Still, they weren’t exactly ancient and wise… just dramatic and emotionally impulsive. It wouldn't be impossible.

They stopped at a table outside the Mystic Grill, where a guy lounged in his chair, arms crossed and expression bored. Ophelia recognized him immediately. That must be the werewolf Tyler Lockwood.

As they sat down, Caroline smiled brightly. “Ophelia, this is my friend Tyler. Tyler, this is Ophelia she just moved to Mystic Falls yesterday.”

Tyler gave a short nod, eyes flicking over Ophelia with mild interest. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Ophelia said with a warm smile, slipping easily into character. “It’s nice to meet you.”

It was a bit awkward at first. No one really knew her, though that didn’t stop Caroline who clearly had no concept of quiet from diving straight into conversation.

“There’s something weird about your mom,” she said suddenly, turning to Tyler.

Tyler frowned. “Like what?”

“When I was over yesterday, she just kept eyeing me."

Before he could respond, a voice interrupted them.

“Hey, guys.”

Ophelia glanced up to see the waiter approaching with a notepad in hand. He was tall, with a lean, athletic frame and tousled dark hair that fell across his forehead.

“Did Matt make you switch sections?” Caroline asked, then her eyes widened. “Oh wait, I totally forgot Ophelia, this is Jeremy. Jeremy, meet Ophelia. She’s new in town.”

He offered a polite smile and nodded. So this was the doppelgänger’s brother. Interesting.

Caroline turned back to Tyler like the interruption never happened.

“Matt thinks we’re dating.”

Ophelia raised an eyebrow at that. Caroline caught the look and clarified, “He’s my ex.”

“So does my mom,” Tyler added dryly.

“What?” Caroline blinked.

“We’re together all the time. It’s not a leap.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Right?”

Caroline then turned to Ophelia. “Are you dating someone?”

Ophelia hesitated for half a second her mind flicking briefly to Alex. “No…”

Caroline grinned. “That was a hesitation. There’s someone.”

Ophelia laughed softly, shaking her head. “Nope.”

“Okay, okay you’re in denial. I get it. But I will get the details eventually.”

Before she could dig further, Tyler jumped in, “Caroline, is everything ready for the party?”

She gave him a look. “Are you doubting my planning skills?”

Tyler held up his hands in mock surrender. “Never.”

Caroline turned her focus back to Ophelia. “You should come! It’s our friend Elena’s birthday. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

“Why not?” Ophelia said with a smile, her voice light. “It’s not like I have anything else planned.”

They exchanged numbers, and as Caroline beamed, Ophelia smirked internally.

Perfect.

Chapter Text

Caroline had invited Ophelia over to help her “adjust” to the whole vampire situation and, of course, to get ready for Elena’s birthday party.

“So, you know absolutely nothing about vampires?” Caroline asked, handing her a dress to try on.

Ophelia shook her head, slipping into a softer tone. “I tried Googling it. One site said I couldn’t eat garlic I was devastated. I even forced myself to try garlic bread, thinking it might burn me or something. Nothing happened. So basically, I just know I drink blood and this ring keeps me from bursting into flames.”

Caroline stared at her. “I honestly don’t know how you survived.”

As Caroline launched into a detailed explanation of vampire do’s and don’ts, Ophelia kept her expression neutral, but internally she was beaming. It was almost too easy. One nudge of vulnerability, and Caroline was handing over everything like it was a slumber party secret.

Caroline finished her crash course with a dramatic flourish.

“Wow,” Ophelia said with a breathy laugh. “You should write a book, How to Be a Vampire 101.”

Caroline gave her a playful slap on the arm. “Okay, serious stuff aside… tell me about the guy.”

“There is no guy,” Ophelia said quickly, flashing an innocent smile. Then she casually shifted gears. “Tell me about the Mystic Falls drama. Are you the only vampire in town?”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Caroline raised a brow. “Oh, sweetie… I just realized you don’t know about witches and werewolves, do you?”

Ophelia blinked. “Nice joke... Wait you’re not joking?”

Caroline leaned in, already on the verge of oversharing, and just like that, she dove into the tangled supernatural history of Mystic Falls witches, werewolves, doppelgangers, and all.

Ophelia nodded and reacted where she had to, playing the role perfectly. Caroline was enthusiastic, eager to educate. All Ophelia had to do was ask the right questions and act a little confused. She was getting exactly what she came for without even having to push.

By the time they were getting ready for the party, Ophelia knew everything.

Every betrayal. Every lie. Every time her mother had been hunted, manipulated, and nearly killed.

And worst of all Klaus Mikaelson had captured her. Held Katherine Pierce like a pawn in one of his endless games. If he’d chosen differently, her mother could have been dead. Gone. Forever.

And Katherine? She hadn't told her. Had tried to protect her from the truth.

But Ophelia wasn’t a child anymore.

Her mother might be willing to let the past go, to bury grudges under survival but Ophelia couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Katherine had been too lenient. Too forgiving.

Someone had to make them pay. Especially the Mikaelsons.

They were powerful, feared, and ancient but so what? No one hurt her mother and walked away unscathed. Not even an Original. Especially not an Original.

So for now, she would smile. She would laugh. She would pretend to be curious and sweet, let Caroline think she’d made a new best friend. Let them all lower their guard.

The Scooby Gang Elena, Stefan, Damon, Caroline Jeremy they’d think she was harmless. The poor, confused vampire girl just looking for help.

Good. Let them think that.

But one day, they'd look back and realize the moment they let her in was the beginning of their undoing.

Because her mother’s enemies had become her mission.

And as for the Mikaelsons?

They would fall.

One by one, brick by brick, she would unravel their empire.

Your enemy’s enemy is your friend.

And Ophelia Pierce had every intention of being the best friend they ever had until the day she buried them.

She stepped into the Salvatore Boarding House beside Caroline, who was excitedly chatting about last-minute party details. the warm hum of chatter and clinking glasses greeting her as soon as the doors opened. The house was already filled with people music vibrating from hidden speakers, candlelight flickering against old walls, the scent of aged bourbon thick in the air.

Ophelia looked every bit the picture of innocence: her red hair was back her natural into soft waves that cascaded down her shoulders, her white off-shoulder dress hugging her figure gently. Her makeup was understated, almost angelic rosy cheeks, a pale flush to her lips, lashes brushed just enough to make her eyes pop.

Caroline and Ophelia made their way to the table with drinks. Ophelia immediately reached for a glass of bourbon she definitely needed it.

As she took a sip, her eyes drifted toward the staircase and froze.

Coming down was the exact replica of her mother. The only real difference was the straight hair and the dress her mother would never wear something so... tame. The girl was walking beside a man she instantly recognized from Katherine's descriptions Damon Salvatore.

"That's Elena and Damon,” Caroline leaned in to whisper. “I’ll be right back let me just steal her from Damon."

Ophelia nodded silently, watching the doppelgänger approach. Even from across the room, she could hear Elena's voice complaining about how crowded the party was. As the pair reached her, Caroline beamed with excitement.

“Elena, this is Ophelia. She’s new in town just moved in yesterday. She was turned recently and needed some help.”

Elena gave Ophelia a polite, if slightly awkward, smile. The way she looked at her screamed sorry, she’s always this blunt.

“Happy birthday, Elena,” Ophelia said sweetly, returning the smile.

The small group drifted through the crowd, chatting and sipping their drinks until they came to a room that reeked of something... skunky.

“Oh. Stoner den. Buzzkill,” Caroline muttered with a wrinkle of her nose.

“Hey, guys,” a blonde guy called out, stepping toward them.

“Matt! Hey,” Elena replied with a  smile.

Ah yes—Matt Donovan. Caroline and Elena’s ex. She had been thoroughly briefed on everyone’s dating history by Caroline, who’d provided the town's romantic entanglements like a walking, talking gossip column.

Matt kissed Elena on the cheek. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” Elena replied softly.

Without so much as a glance at Caroline or Ophelia, Matt turned and walked away.

Rude.

“He hates me. His hatred of me has literally driven him to drugs,” Caroline said with a theatrical sigh.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Elena replied. “He just hates that he’s not with you.”

Elena spotted her brother across the room and groaned. “Is that my brother?"  She slipped away toward him.

“Well, I think you deserve better,” Ophelia said sincerely, turning to Caroline. “He was rude.”

Ophelia sipped her drink, eyes subtly scanning the room. Laughter, music, and whispered conversations floated around her like background noise, but her focus was sharp. She watched Elena slip away from the crowd and head upstairs alone. This was her chance. Elena was the key if she could gain her trust, the rest of the Scooby Gang would fall into place.

She glanced at Caroline, who was busy talking to Matt, then quietly followed Elena, careful not to draw attention. She found the door slightly ajar and stepped inside.

Elena turned at the sound. "Ophelia? What are you doing here?"

Ophelia offered a soft smile. “Hey. I just wanted to check on you. I saw you heading up here alone... and Caroline told me about Stefan.”

Elena’s voice was quiet but laced with frustration. “Everyone keeps telling me to move on, like it’s easy. But I can’t. Not when Stefan is out there suffering because of me. They just don’t understand. You’re new tell me, what’s your opinion?”

Ophelia gently reached for her hand, offering a sincere expression. “Elena, I may be new, but I can see how much Stefan means to you. And I don’t think anyone’s asking you to forget him. They just want you to keep living.”

She paused, her voice soft but firm. “From everything I’ve heard about Stefan, I don’t think he’d want you to put your life on hold. You can search for him, fight for him… and still allow yourself to live in the meantime. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

Elena gave her a small, grateful smile and Ophelia squealed internally. That smile meant she was in. Elena was vulnerable, isolated, feeling like her friends didn’t understand her. It was the perfect opening, and Ophelia had taken it. Step by step, she was gaining their trust.

The door suddenly creaked open, breaking the moment.

“This room’s off-limits,” came a voice.

“Caroline?” Elena called, turning.

“Sorry, I just needed a beat,” Caroline said as she stepped inside, taking a sip from the blood bag she’d been hiding behind her back.

She spotted Ophelia. “There you are. I was looking for you. Do you want one?” Without waiting for an answer, she tossed a blood bag toward her.

Ophelia caught it easily, nodding. “Thanks.”

Caroline turned to Elena. “Are you hiding?”

“I was just looking for Damon,” Elena replied flatly.

“He’d better be here somewhere. We haven’t even done the cake yet,” Caroline said cheerily.

“I think I’m gonna pass on the whole cake thing,” Elena muttered.

“No way. It’s your birthday. The dawn of a new day,” Caroline insisted. “You can’t get on with your life until you’ve made a wish and blown out the candles.”

Elena’s frustration boiled over. “Is that what you all want me to do? Just get on with my life?”

“No...maybe..I just don’t think anyone wants to see you like this,” Caroline said, trying to sound gentle.

Ophelia stepped in before the argument could escalate. “I think Elena should be allowed to feel sad, Caroline. She doesn’t even know if her boyfriend is alive.”

Elena gave her a grateful glance. “I’m not going to give up on finding Stefan,” she said, voice firm.

“Of course not… and you shouldn’t,” Caroline replied, softening. “But you have to admit you’re just letting your life pass you by. And isn’t Stefan the one who wanted to make sure you lived it?”

“You want me to make a wish?” Elena asked bitterly. “Fine. I just want to know that he’s alive. That’s it. That’s my wish.”

She turned away, walking across the room. Ophelia gave Caroline a pointed look, silently telling her she’d said enough, and followed Elena.

“I’m sorry,” Caroline murmured. “Hey, I’m just dumb and drunk tonight.”

But Elena wasn’t listening her attention had been caught by a cluttered, shadowed corner of the room. Maps, newspaper clippings, notes there was something secret tucked away there.

“I don’t know, I-- what are you doing?” Caroline asked, stepping closer.

Ophelia followed Elena’s gaze, her curiosity piqued.

“What’s all that?” Caroline asked, frowning.

“It’s Klaus,” Elena whispered. “Damon’s been tracking him… without telling me.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell you?” Caroline asked, brows furrowing.

“I don’t know,” Elena murmured, hurt creeping into her voice.

Chapter Text

Her day had gone exactly as planned. The pieces were falling into place she had already earned the trust of the doppelgänger. Now all that remained was the Salvatore brothers. Once they trusted her, everything else would follow.

She had just slipped into bed, ready to finally get some rest, when her phone buzzed. The screen lit up with Elena’s name.

She answered quickly. “Elena?”

“Ophelia,” Elena’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper. “Caroline and Bonnie aren’t picking up.”

Something in her tone made Ophelia sit up straight. “Are you okay?”

“He called me,” Elena said shakily. “Stefan called me…”

“Do you want me to come over?” Ophelia offered gently.

There was a brief pause. Then, softly, “If you don’t mind.”

Ophelia was already out of bed. “I’m on my way.”

As she threw on a jacket and grabbed her keys, a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

Perfect.

Elena was at her most vulnerable, and she had tried calling Bonnie and Caroline but neither of them had picked up. And yet, she called her. Ophelia. That meant something

This was exactly what she needed to become Elena’s safe place, her confidante. Because if Elena trusted her this much, the rest of the Scooby gang wouldn’t be far behind.

And once she had their trust… revenge would be that much sweeter.

She reached Elena’s house and called her to come open the door.

When Elena appeared, she looked devastated eyes red and glassy with unshed tears. She invited her in and without another word, they walked up to her room.

Ophelia gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you okay? What did Stefan say?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Elena whispered. “But I knew it was him. I told him everything would be okay.”

Ophelia nodded and pulled her into a comforting hug.
“Well, your wish came true. Now you know he’s alive.”

Elena clung to her, and the two lay down on the bed. It wasn’t long before Elena’s breathing evened out, her head resting against Ophelia’s shoulder.

As sleep claimed them both, Ophelia kept her eyes open just a moment longer watching the ceiling, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. Everything was falling into place.

Ophelia woke up first, the early light filtering through the curtains. She shifted carefully, trying not to disturb Elena, but the slight movement was enough.

Elena stirred, eyes fluttering open with a sigh. “Ophelia… I wanted to say sorry for calling you over last night.”

“There’s no need,” Ophelia replied with a gentle smile. “What are friends for?”

Elena smiled back, the warmth in her eyes tinged with lingering exhaustion. “Will you come with me to the Salvatores’ today? I want to confront Damon about tracking Klaus. You can borrow some clothes make yourself at home.”

“Sure,” Ophelia said, rising. “I’ll just raid your wardrobe, then.”

She sifted through Elena’s closet and settled on a simple full-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Once dressed, they headed out together, the silence between them comfortable.

They drove to the Salvatore boarding house in Elena’s car. Oddly enough, the mansion showed no signs of the raucous party that had taken place just the night before. It was as if the chaos had been carefully swept away, leaving only cold, immaculate silence behind.

Inside, the television droned in the background:

"Field reporter and weekend anchor, Andie Star, was discovered dead..."

They stepped into Damon's bedroom. He was pulling down maps and notes from a cluttered wall, his back to them.

“You just can’t stay away, can you?” he said without turning around.

“You’ve been dodging my calls,” Elena replied, stepping forward.

“Yeah, well busy day. Dead fake girlfriend and all.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Elena asked

Damon finally turned to face them, his expression mocking. “Happy birthday, Elena. Stefan killed Andie. Want some cake?”

Then his gaze shifted to Ophelia, his brow quirking. “And who’s this?”

"I’m Ophelia,” she said coolly. “Just moved here, so no need to wonder why you don’t know me. I hear you make it your business to know everyone.”

Damon’s lips curled into a slow, mocking smile, eyes flicking over her with amused intrigue.

Then, turning to Elena with a tilt of his head, he asked, “And why is she here?”

“She gave me a ride,” Elena said simply. “And I trust her, Damon.”

“Well… if you trust her…” he drawled with a smirk, clearly unconvinced, and turned away with a casual shrug.

“He called me, Damon,” Elena said suddenly.

He stopped in his tracks and turned back. “What?”

“Stefan called me last night.”

“What did he say?” Damon asked, voice low, cautious.

“He didn’t say anything,” Elena admitted, ignoring the skeptical look he gave her.

"But it was him. I asked Sheriff Forbes if she would trace the call's origin, it came from Tenneasse."

"“Where he’s binge-drinking on the local population,” Damon muttered, tossing papers into the fireplace with deliberate carelessness. “We’ve been through this, Elena. Stefan’s gone. And I don’t mean geographically.”

“If he was really gone,” she said quietly, “he wouldn’t have called me.”

Ophelia reached out and rested a comforting hand on Elena’s shoulder, playing her part to perfection. Supportive. Loyal. Trustworthy.

Elena exhaled, frustrated with Damon’s indifference, and took Ophelia’s hand. “Come on. If Damon won’t give me answers, Alaric will.”

They walked down the hallway until Elena stopped at a closed door and began knocking—hard.

“Go away, Damon!” came the groggy shout from inside.

Elena knocked again, more insistently.

The door swung open to reveal a shirtless Alaric, surprised and clearly not expecting guests as he quickly zipped up his pants. “Ahem… You’re not who I thought you were.”

“I need you to tell me everything you know about Stefan and Tennessee,” Elena demanded.

Alaric sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “Did you miss the part where I officially checked out of all this?”

Ophelia took the opportunity to step back. She had lingered long enough too much attention and too much emotion wasn’t good for her endgame.

“I think I should go,” she said to Elena. “I promised Caroline I’d meet her at Mystic Grill this morning.”

“Of course. Thank you… for last night,” Elena said, pulling her into a quick, genuine hug.

Ophelia smiled. “Anytime.”

She sighed as she finally stepped into the quiet of her house, closing the door behind her. The weight of the morning pressed down on her shoulders. She still had a few hours before she needed to meet Caroline but first, there was something she couldn’t put off any longer.

She pulled out her phone and dialed her mother’s number. Katherine picked up after one ring, her voice bright and teasing.

“Helia! How’s your vacation going? Did you two finally make it official?”

“Maman,” Ophelia cut her off, voice sharp with restrained fury. “How could you not tell me that Klaus captured you?”

There was a pause just a second too long.

“H-Helia… what? How do you—how do you know that?”

Ophelia’s voice rose, her anger bubbling over. “Wow. Really? Instead of answering, you ask how I know? That’s your first response?”

“Ophelia, please. Calm down—”

“I can’t calm down,” she snapped, her voice cracking. “You told me you’d be safe. That there was nothing to worry about. And now I find out you were captured by Klaus Mikaelson. You could’ve died, Maman. That could’ve been the last time I ever saw you.”

Silence.

Her chest heaved as she tried to keep the tears at bay, but her voice betrayed her, trembling with raw emotion. “You should have told me. I deserved to know.”

“Ophelia, I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Katherine said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “I just wanted to keep you safe. I know you're not a child anymore but to me, you’ll always be my child. And I couldn’t risk you getting hurt... especially because of me.”

She paused, exhaling shakily before continuing.

“I know you’re strong. I know you can protect yourself. But you also know how many enemies I’ve made. If anyone had found out that I cared about someone more than myself, they wouldn’t have hesitated they would’ve gone after you.”

Another breath. Then quieter, gentler:

“I’m sorry, Helia. I was just trying to protect you... because I love you.”

Ophelia’s breath hitched as silent tears slipped down her cheeks. Her voice trembled, thick with emotion.
“I love you too, Maman. But you shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

She wiped at her tears, frustration bleeding into her tone.

“Don’t you get it? I want to protect you, too. I don’t want to lose my mother I want you safe, happy… not always running or hiding every time Klaus’s name is whispered.”

Her voice hardened with quiet determination.

“I will take your revenge, Maman. I promise you that.”

Katherine’s voice came through the line, rushed and laced with panic.
“Ophelia what do you mean by that? Where are you?”

“I’m in Mystic Falls,” Ophelia said calmly.

There was a pause, then a sharp intake of breath.
“No. Ophelia, what are you doing?” Her voice cracked with fear.

“They don’t know who I am, Maman. And they won’t not until I want them to.”

“Ophelia—” Katherine began, but Ophelia cut her off gently.

“I’m safe. I’ve placed protections on the house no one can enter without my invitation, not even humans. And the doppelgänger and her little Scooby gang? They already trust me.”

For a beat, there was silence. Then Katherine let out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, one filled with pride and affection.

“I can’t even scold you,” she said warmly. “You’re flawless… You’re my daughter, after all.”

“Maman, no more secrets. From now on, you tell me your plan, and I’ll tell you mine then we’ll align them.”

She didn’t even realize how late it had gotten by the time they ended the call. With a sigh, she remembered she was supposed to meet Caroline today. She had completely forgotten. Quickly, she sent a text

“Sorry I couldn’t make it today. Something came up, had to talk to my family.”

Half truth, half lie always the best kind.

Chapter Text

Ophelia woke up that morning feeling more refreshed than she had in days. The late-night call with her mother had lifted a weight off her shoulders finally, they were on the same page. No more secrets between them, just shared purpose and understanding.

Today felt like a good day.

She decided to bake a chocolate cheesecake as an apology gift for Caroline. The girl had been nothing but kind to her, and Ophelia had genuinely felt bad for skipping their plan yesterday. Caroline was sweet, a little nosy perhaps, but sweet nonetheless.

Humming softly to herself, Ophelia moved around the kitchen with ease, preheating the oven and pulling out ingredients while music played low in the background. As she whisked and measured, her mind drifted to the rest of her day. Things were mostly quiet Elena and Damon were off to Chicago, chasing leads. Leads conveniently provided by her mother, of course.

She called Caroline, frowning slightly when it went to voicemail. She checked her texts still no reply from the one she’d sent the night before. There was a text from Elena.

"Heading to Chicago,found some leads on Stefan. Will update you later!"

With a small sigh, she hit record and left a voice note.

"Hey Caroline, I’m really sorry for not showing up yesterday. To make it up to you, I’m bringing a peace offering homemade chocolate cheesecake. Hope you’re home, because I’m coming over either way."

She reached the Forbes house in a few minutes, the chocolate cheesecake carefully placed on the passenger seat. Stepping out, she smoothed down her dress and walked up to the front door. Her fingers tapped lightly against the wood, and soon the door creaked open to reveal a woman with blonde hair, an older version of Caroline, unmistakably.

"Hi, Miss Forbes," Ophelia said with a polite smile. "I’m Ophelia, Caroline’s friend. Is she home?"

Liz Forbes frowned, concern flickering in her eyes. "Come in," she said, stepping aside. "I’ve been trying to reach Caroline all morning, but she’s not picking up my calls either."

Ophelia stepped into the warm, tidy house just as another knock echoed from the front door.

They exchanged a look before Liz moved to open it. Tyler stood on the porch, his face pale and tight with worry.

"Tyler?" Ophelia asked, her voice a touch breathless. "Do you know where Caroline is?"

His silence, the storm of emotion in his eyes, said more than words ever could.

Ophelia’s heart sank. Something was very, very wrong.

✧

Ophelia still couldn’t believe it Caroline’s own father had tortured her simply for being a vampire. The thought made her stomach turn. It echoed too closely to her own past, the ghosts she kept buried deep. Her father had despised her for nothing more than being born a girl, and hated her mother even more for bringing her into the world.

She often wondered what might have happened if Katherine hadn’t found her that day, what horrors she might have faced at the hands of a man who saw her as nothing but a mistake.

She shook her head sharply. No. Now wasn’t the time for those memories. Right now, Caroline needed her. The poor girl was shaken to her core, betrayed and brutalized by the very man she once loved and trusted.

Thankfully, they had managed to rescue her after a day. But Ophelia knew the physical wounds would heal far quicker than the ones her heart now carried. And she would be damned if she let Caroline go through this alone.

She knew that pain being hated simply for existing. And worse, when that hatred came from the very person meant to protect and love you. A parent’s rejection carved the deepest wounds.

Unknowingly, quietly, Caroline had crept past her defenses. And now, Ophelia found herself caring more than she ever intended.

She saw herself in Caroline a bright, bubbly girl forced into a world that saw her as a monster, yet still trying to survive with grace and strength.

There was something achingly familiar in the way Caroline smiled through her pain, held herself together with trembling pride, and tried so hard to be good when the world only saw the bad. Ophelia had lived that story too. And maybe that’s why it hurt to see Caroline like this shaken, betrayed, still bleeding on the inside but pretending she wasn’t.

Ophelia didn’t do attachments. She didn’t let people in. But Caroline… Caroline was becoming the exception.

Unknowingly, quietly, Caroline had crept past her defenses.

✧

She carried the cheesecake carefully upstairs, the rich scent of cocoa curling around her like a warm embrace. Chocolate makes everything better at least, that’s what people said. And today, if anyone deserved even a small sliver of “better,” it was Caroline.

She paused outside the door, hearing a soft voice float through the crack.

“Hey, Mom,” Caroline was saying, her voice rough but steady. “Thanks for believing in me.”

Ophelia saw Liz Forbes nod with a small, tight smile worn and weary, the kind of smile that said too much had been left unsaid. Then, without another word, Liz turned and walked past Ophelia, down the stairs.

Ophelia stepped inside quietly. Caroline stood with her arms folded tightly across her chest, as if holding herself together through sheer will. Her eyes were glossy, rimmed red, the bravado she usually wore nowhere to be found.

Ophelia didn’t say anything. She just walked over and wrapped her arms around her. No explanations, no apologies, just warmth.

Caroline crumpled.

The sobs came hard and fast painful, broken sobs that shook her entire body. She clung to Ophelia like she was a lifeline, like she’d been trying so hard to be strong for everyone and finally couldn’t anymore.

Ophelia held her tighter, resting her chin against her shoulder, her own heart aching. She knew this kind of pain the betrayal of a parent, the cruel hurt of being hated just for existing. She knew what it was like to still love someone who had caused you unspeakable pain. She didn’t offer empty words. Just her presence, solid and steady.

“It’s okay,” she whispered eventually, her voice trembling. “You didn’t deserve any of it, Caroline. Not for being who you are.”

Caroline didn’t answer. She just kept holding on, like maybe if she let go, she’d fall apart completely.

When the sobbing finally quieted to shuddering breaths, Ophelia pulled back gently and reached for the container in her hands. She gave a small smile as she handed it over.

“I made this for you,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from Caroline’s face. “Chocolate makes everything a little easier to survive.”

Caroline gave a wet laugh through her tears as she accepted it, hugging the container like it was more than dessert like it was proof someone still cared.

And in the silence that followed, something shifted between them. Two broken girls in a quiet room, trying to stitch themselves back together with comfort, kindness, and chocolate.

✧

In the morning, Ophelia and Caroline got ready for the Founders Party. It was a potluck, so Caroline had asked her to bake something, trying to keep things normal. Ophelia made a fresh batch of rich, chocolatey brownies, the warm scent filling the kitchen as they got dressed.

Caroline chatted the whole time, her voice light, her smile fixed but Ophelia could see it. The way her hands fidgeted with her necklace. The way her laughter never quite reached her eyes. She was trying desperately to put on a mask, to pretend everything was fine.

Ophelia didn’t press. She just handed her the tin of brownies, gave her a small, knowing smile, and the two of them headed to Elena’s house, the silence between songs on the radio a little heavier than usual.

Ophelia stepped out of the car, the tray of brownies balanced carefully in her hands, and paused when she saw the girl standing in front of Elena’s porch. She was petite and poised, with smooth, warm-toned skin that caught the morning light. Her dark brown hair curled around her shoulders in soft, natural waves, and her posture was calm, but firm.

Caroline squealed in delight as she threw her arms around the girl. "BONNIE! You’re back!"

So this was the infamous Bennett witch, Ophelia thought, observing the reunion.

Caroline turned to her with a wide smile. "Bonnie, this is Ophelia our new friend. She just moved to Mystic Falls a few days ago. And Ophelia, this is Bonnie, my best friend. She’s a witch."

Bonnie offered a polite, curious smile, her eyes briefly scanning Ophelia with quiet scrutiny.

"Nice to meet you," she said, her voice calm but measured.

Ophelia returned the smile just as politely, and the three of them stepped up to Elena’s door together and Here’s a refined and more natural version of your scene with warmth and character voice:

Ophelia returned the smile just as politely, falling in step beside them as the trio approached Elena’s front door. At the last second, Bonnie playfully ducked behind Caroline and Ophelia to surprise her.

Elena opened the door just as Caroline held up the container with a grin.

“We come bearing gifts!”

Elena squinted suspiciously. “Please say that’s not chili.”

Before anyone could answer, Bonnie popped out from behind them.

Elena let out a squeal of joy. “BONNIE!”

With a laugh, Bonnie rushed forward, and the two girls wrapped each other in a tight hug.

“I’m back,” Bonnie said, grinning into her best friend’s shoulder.

“I leave town for the summer and everything goes to hell for both of you?” Bonnie said, eyeing Caroline and Elena with a mix of concern and teasing.

They both offered her small, tired smiles sad, knowing looks passing between them.

Just then, Jeremy came downstairs, stopping in his tracks when he saw her.
“Bonnie?” he said, surprised.

“Jeremy,” Bonnie breathed, stepping forward and pulling him into a kiss.

After their quiet reunion, the group made their way into the kitchen to finish setting up for the potluck.

“You have to try Ophelia’s brownies,” Caroline said, already digging into an extra piece. “Her cooking is basically a religious experience.”

Ophelia laughed softly, shaking her head. “Stop exaggerating.”

She turned to Bonnie, her expression warming. “How was your summer?”

"The problem with my dad’s normal side of the family," Bonnie said, rolling her eyes, "is that normal makes for a really boring summer."

"After the last few days, I’d kill for a normal family," Caroline muttered, pouring chili into a serving container.

"When did you learn how to cook?" she asked, glancing at Elena.

Elena shrugged. "Damon helped a little."

Bonnie raised a brow. "Damon’s helping you cook now?"

Ophelia blinked, equally surprised. "Wait, Damon knows how to cook?"

Elena gave them a pointed look.

“Okay, guys, stop judging,” Elena said with a half-laugh. “He’s just trying to be good—AH!” she suddenly cried out in pain, recoiling.

“Did I splash you?” Caroline asked, alarmed, glancing at the pot in her hands.

“No-no, it’s my necklace,” Elena said, her voice shaky as she reached up and quickly pulled it off. A faint red mark was visible on her skin where it had rested, as if the necklace had burned her.

Ophelia’s eyes narrowed. Her mother had warned her Klaus was after that necklace. This had to be him.

“It burned me,” Elena murmured, staring at the red mark on her neck.

“Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t be wearing it,” Caroline said

“Caroline,” Ophelia and Bonnie said in unison, both giving her a look.

“What?” Caroline held up her hands. “I’m just saying if you’re going to be cooking without Stefan…”

Elena sighed, her fingers tightening around the necklace.

“Let me see it,” Bonnie said gently, reaching for it.

The moment her fingers touched the chain, a sudden bright spark flared between them. The necklace slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.

Chapter Text

Ophelia, Caroline, and Elena sat on a quiet bench, away from the buzz of the Founder's Party. The laughter and music felt distant, muffled under the weight of their thoughts. Bonnie had gone off to dig through her grimoires, searching for answers.

Ophelia sat quietly, her gaze distant and thoughtful. She knew someone was after the necklace, she could feel it from the remnants of magic clinging to it. That certainty pressed heavily in her chest, cold and unmoving. And if her instincts were right, the one behind it all was Klaus.

"Okay, I got it," Bonnie said as she approached, holding an old book. "I have an identification spell that be able to tell me what magic affected the necklace, it might take some time so tell me if someone is coming okay."

Ophelia nodded just as she noticed Caroline giving Elena a peculiar look one that never led to anything subtle.

"So... you're not, like, switching Salvatores, are you?" Caroline asked, deadpan.

Ophelia shook her head with a sigh. Caroline really had no filter.

"What?" Elena asked shocked

"Caroline." Bonnie said with a sigh clearly exasperated

"Stay focused," Caroline replied brushing off the scolding before turning towards Elena "As your friend, who worries for you daily, what is the deal between you and Damon?"

Elena let out a weary sigh "There is no deal. He's been as focused on finding Stefan as I have."

"That doesn't make him any less Damon." Said Caroline firmly "If my own father who I love dearly, can't change me no one's changing not even you."

"Caroline, this isn't the time for this," Ophelia interjected, her voice steady but firm. "Let's focus on helping Bonnie with the spell."

"Yes, exactly," Elena agreed quickly. "Why are we even talking about this right now?"

"Hey, guys..." Bonnie's voice cut through the tension, laced with surprise.

They all turned toward her, just in time to see the necklace rising slowly into the air, suspended by unseen magic.

"What are you doing?" Caroline asked, her eyes wide.

"I'm not doing anything," Bonnie replied, equally shocked. "It has its own magic."

Ophelia's gaze sharpened, her unease deepening. The necklace was a talisman, yes but this wasn't just its magic reacting. This was something else. Someone was trying to track it. And judging by the sudden surge of energy in the air... they were getting close.

✧

"Did Stefan ever tell you where he found the necklace?" Asked Caroline

"No and I never asked, but hopefully Bonnie will figure it out." Replied Elena

""Please tell me it's time to go," a voice cut in from behind them.

Ophelia turned, barely suppressing a grin when she saw him.

Oh great, she thought Mystic Falls' very own history teacher-slash-vampire hunter has arrived.

"Beyond," Elena replied "Where's Damon?"

"Probably off somewhere doing bad things to good people," Caroline quipped.

"Consider me the honesty police," she added with a wry smile but her expression shifted the moment her eyes scanned the next room. The color drained from her face.

"What is it?" Elena asked, immediately on alert.

"It's my dad," Caroline whispered, her voice tight with dread.

Ophelia's own mood darkened instantly. "Why would he even come here... after what he did?"

"I don't know," Caroline said shakily. "But I can't-"

"It's okay," Ophelia said, her voice softer now, steadier. "Come on. I'll take you home."

She glanced at the others and nodded. "See you tomorrow."

And led Caroline out of the house

✧

She finally reached her home after dropping Caroline off. As she entered she caught a whiff of Kavarma a traditional Bulgarian dish her mother used to make for her in childhood, it was her favourite. She sped towards the kitchen but it was empty.

"Maman where are you?" She shouted excitedly

"Patience is a virtue darling." said her mother as she entered from the front door "I went to buy some Bourbon."

She sped towards her and hugged her "I missed you."

"Me too sweetheart." Her mother said kissing her forehead "Now tell me how I can enter the house so easily, you said you were safe."

"Maman, you have my blood because of the ritual of blood adoption you did so the wards recognize you," Ophelia explained with a small, knowing smile.

Katherine raised her hands in mock surrender, a proud grin tugging at her lips."My fault. I should've known better than to doubt you."

Ophelia rolled her eyes fondly.
"Whatever, you're here now. Let's eat it's been ages since I had your Kavarma."

They moved to the dining table, where the aroma of the dish lingered like a memory. As they sat down, the warm glow of the chandelier cast a soft light over the quiet meal.

"You remembered the paprika just right," Ophelia said after the first bite, her voice touched with nostalgia.

"I never forget your favorites," Katherine replied, her tone gentler than usual. "Even when I'm halfway across the world."

They ate in a comfortable rhythm, catching up between bites talking about Mystic Falls, the Founders Party, Caroline's recovery, and the strange energy surrounding the necklace. Katherine confirmed what Ophelia had feared all along her suspicions were right. It was Klaus. Word of his interest had slipped through thanks to Katherine's careful spying.

He was coming.

Soon.

And that meant Ophelia had to be more careful than ever. Every step she took now had to be calculated. She couldn't afford mistakes not when Klaus was drawing closer.

✧

Ophelia hadn't realized that missing just one night of playing sweet and harmless would mean missing everything. Of course Klaus chose that exact night to show up because why wouldn't the thousand-year-old all-powerful Original Hybrid crash Senior Prank Night of all things?

What next? Was he going to TP the school himself and leave cryptic threats written in shaving cream?

She groaned, rubbing her temples. One night off. One night of not pretending to be the sunshine-and-brownies girl and Klaus decided to make his grand entrance. Typical.

She'd gotten pulled into the whirlwind again Caroline's meltdown over Tyler's death (or... rebirth as a hybrid?) had eaten up her entire night. At least her mom had managed to dig up a potential way to kill Klaus. Silver lining?

Now here she was, standing in front of Mystic Falls High with her "friends," pretending like this wasn't the most ridiculous situation ever. Her first day of high school... it had been a long time coming.

"Here we are. Senior year," Caroline announced with a cheer that sounded dangerously forced.

"Anyone else think this should feel slightly more empowering?" Bonnie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, so prank night was a bust. But we are accepting it and moving on," Caroline said, practically clapping the trauma out of the air.

"You are right, why should I let the fact that my boyfriend is seeing the ghost of his girlfriends hinder this experience?" Bonnie said, biting sarcasm lining her voice.

"Yes! And why should I let the fact that my boyfriend turned into a hybrid dampen this otherwise fabulous day?" Caroline added with a too-bright smile.

"Of course! And why should I let the tiny detail that I just became a vampire and accidentally joined a supernatural war against the oldest, most murderous family in history spoil this magical moment?" Ophelia chimed in with mock cheerfulness.

Elena stopped walking, eyes soft. "Today's our anniversary. Technically, Stefan and I met on the first day of school last year."

There was a beat of silence.

"...Yeah, you win," Caroline muttered.

Wow. Main character syndrome much, Ophelia thought dryly.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" Bonnie asked gently.

"I have to be here," Elena said quietly. "I need to put it behind me. New year, new me."

Ophelia didn't speak right away. Instead, she gently placed a hand on Elena's shoulder, offering silent reassurance.

With a soft smile, she said, "Okay, no more gloomy faces. It's my first day, and I'd really like to make it a good one. Come on, let's go."

✧

She was left alone to collect her schedule from the front desk everyone else had scattered to handle their own things.

"Hi, I'm Ophelia Pierce, the new student. Could you give me my schedule?" she asked politely.

The woman behind the desk frowned, scanning the computer screen. "I'm sorry, I can't seem to find some of your records-"

"They're in the drawer," Ophelia said calmly, her eyes locking onto the woman's as she compelled her.

The receptionist blinked, then nodded. "Oh, yes here they are. Sorry for the confusion. Here's your schedule."

Ophelia took the paper with a slight smile. "Thanks."

Just as she turned to leave, she collided with someone. She bit back a curse, instinctively stepping back and then froze.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Standing before her, looking every bit as regal and dangerous as the stories said, was Rebekah Mikaelson.

The youngest Original.

Why the hell had none of the girls thought to mention that Rebekah Mikaelson was in town?

You miss one night of pretending to be sweet, and you miss an Original casually enrolling in high school. Typical.

And seriously what was she doing here? Still, without the Scooby Gang handing her a full bio, Ophelia had to pretend she didn't recognize her.

So, she did what she did best. Acted.

She offered a polite, apologetic smile.
"Sorry I wasn't looking where I was going. First-day nerves."

Rebekah didn't return the smile. Her stare was cool and assessing, the kind that stripped layers off people just to see what was underneath.
"It's your first day too," she said, tilting her head. "So you're no help finding classes."

Oh, she was definitely a Mikaelson.
Ophelia kept her expression friendly, but inside she was already recalibrating her entire plan.

"I'm Ophelia Pierce. So... you're new too?" she asked, keeping her tone light and curious.

Rebekah's eyes sharpened at the name. "Pierce?"

Shit.
Ophelia kept her face carefully neutral, tilting her head just slightly like she was confused by the sudden interest. "Yes?" she replied, feigning innocent curiosity.

Rebekah hummed thoughtfully, her expression unreadable. "I'm Rebekah Mikaelson."

There it was spoken like a warning wrapped in silk.

Ophelia offered a pleasant smile, already calculating five different exit strategies. "It's nice to meet you, but I should go, I'm already late for class."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked off, her heartbeat steady but her mind racing.

As Ophelia walked away, her mind shifted into overdrive. Rebekah Mikaelson. The youngest Original. Dangerous, impulsive, and heartbreakingly easy to manipulate.

She wasn't supposed to know that, of course. A small oversight by the Scooby gang one she could absolutely use to her advantage.

New girl meets new girl. Instant alliance. That's how these stories usually started, right?

She smirked to herself. Rebekah was lethal, yes but lonely too. Starved for affection in a world that saw her as a monster. Ophelia understood that kind of hunger far too well. Show her a little loyalty, a little sisterhood... and she'd follow you into fire.

Let's see how long it takes, sweetheart.

She clutched her schedule and walked faster. Time to adjust the game plan.

Chapter Text

She heard the sound of footsteps behind her measured and confident. She didn’t need to look back to know it was Rebekah. Slowing her pace just enough, she allowed her to catch up.

"Which class do you have right now?" Ophelia asked, glancing over with a small, friendly smile.

"Economics," Rebekah replied.

"Oh, perfect same here. We can figure out the classroom together," Ophelia said lightly, as if it were a pleasant coincidence.

Rebekah gave a short nod. “Sure.”

"So," Ophelia continued, casually steering the conversation, "what brought you to Mystic Falls?"

"My brother has some work here," Rebekah said.

Ophelia smiled politely, but internally? Wow. Murder, manipulation, and centuries of mayhem now fall under ‘some work.’ Good to know.

"Mystic Falls seems to draw people in like that. For me, it was more of a family decision. I wasn’t doing great mentally, and my parents thought a fresh start might help. I’ve always been into history and folklore, and this town has a reputation for both."

Rebekah looked at her, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

"Well," Ophelia added, her tone warm and light, "new towns, new beginnings, right?"

Rebekah hummed in agreement, and for a moment, they walked side by side in silence two new girls in a town full of secrets.

And one of them has no idea she’s walking next to someone who already knows all of them.

✧

Later that evening, Ophelia had just started driving toward the woods for the party when her phone buzzed on the passenger seat.

A text from Rebekah.

Rebekah: Are you going to the party?

She smiled slightly. They’d only exchanged numbers earlier that day, but Rebekah already texting her was a bit unexpected.

She picked up the phone at a stop sign and replied:

Ophelia: Yeah, just heading there now. You?

The reply came quickly.

Rebekah: Still deciding. Are these parties ever worth it?

Ophelia tapped her fingers on the wheel, amused.

Ophelia: Usually not. But hey, sometimes they surprise you. Worst case, we leave early.

She set her phone down and turned onto the main road, the woods just a few minutes away.

By the time she reached the party, it was already in full swing music thumping, the bonfire casting flickering shadows through the trees. Rebekah stood off to the side, alone with a red cup, watching everyone with mild interest.

Ophelia made her way over.

“So… enjoying the party?”

Rebekah glanced at her and gave a half-smile. “It’s… different.”

Ophelia nodded with a knowing look. “Yeah, especially when it’s your first time at a high school party.”

Rebekah turned to her, brows raised. “First?”

Ophelia nodded. “Yeah. I was homeschooled before this. So all of this?” she gestured to the chaos “is kind of new.”

Rebekah’s expression softened, and for the first time, she smiled really smiled. “Same. I’ve never done this before either.”

Ophelia raised her cup slightly. “Guess we’re both figuring it out.”

Rebekah clinked her cup against hers. “Looks like it.”

✧

The Scooby Gang was definitely planning something.Ophelia just had to find out what. So, she called Caroline.

"Care, hey, where are you?" 

"Ophelia! Oh my god, I’m so sorry I forgot to tell you I’m not coming."

"Is everything okay?"

“No… well, yes… ugh, it’s complicated. Elena didn’t want to involve you in the plan she said it was to keep you safe but I have to tell someone.”

"What? Why?" Ophelia pressed.

"She said you just turned, so it’s better if we don’t involve you right now."

"Oh… okay. So what happened?"

"We found out Tyler is sired to Klaus, which means he has to follow every order Klaus gives him," Caroline said grimly.

"OMG are you alright?"

"No," Caroline sighed, "but we still need to do something about the Originals."

"Originals? As in plural?"

"Yeah..we totally forgot to tell you we met Klaus’s sister. They’re both equally cruel and dramatic. We’re calling her Barbie Klaus."

"Wow," Ophelia chuckled. "Do you guys need any help?"

"No, it’s alright. The plan isn’t complicated. Let’s meet at the Grill tomorrow I’ll fill you in then."

"Alright."

Ophelia texted Rebekah that she was heading home and made her way to her car. 

The night was quiet too quiet but it wasn’t the silence that made her skin crawl. It was the way the shadows felt aware, like they were leaning in to listen.

A sudden crash split the stillness. Metal on metal. Glass shattering.

Her pulse kicked. She took off running, rounding the corner just in time to see a sedan crumpled against a streetlamp, smoke curling from under the hood. Elena, Stefan, and Alaric were outside, shaken but upright.

Gasoline stung the air, sharp and nauseating. Ophelia slowed, scanning the street. Something felt… wrong. Like the echo of a scream she hadn’t heard, a ripple of magic so old it left the air colder where it touched her.

The flames had already started an orange tongue licking up the side of the car. No one was near enough to have lit it. And yet… it was burning.

Underneath the acrid scent of fuel, another smell drifted in faint but unmistakable. Cigarette smoke. Fresh.

Ophelia’s gaze swept over the dark sidewalk. For the briefest second, she thought she saw the curve of a pale face in the shadows, gone before her mind could process it. The sensation of being watched didn’t fade when it vanished. If anything, it deepened.

It wasn’t just an accident.

She didn’t know how, or why, but someone or somethinghad been here before her. And it wanted Elena dead.

"Are you guys alright? What happened?" she asked, running closer to them. Her eyes widened when she saw Elena. "OMG, Elena you’re injured!"

"I’m fine," Elena insisted, though her voice betrayed exhaustion.

"Wait, I’m calling Damon for help," Ophelia said, already pulling out her phone.

✧

Ophelia finally stepped through her front door, the quiet pressing in after the chaos of the day. Elena had insisted she’d be fine with Damon, telling her to go home and rest.

Rest. As if her mind would let her.

She sighed, kicked off her boots, and pulled out her phone. Before doubt could stop her, she dialed.

“Maman,” she said when Katherine picked up, her voice softening. “Hi… how’s it going?”

“You remember Mikael?” Katherine’s tone was calm, but there was a strange roughness under it, like her voice had been scraped raw. “The only one who can kill Klaus?"

Ophelia’s pulse jumped. “Yes, of course. Did you find him?”

“Yes,” Katherine replied after a heartbeat’s pause. “And he’s… free now.”

Ophelia sat straighter. “Oh my God that’s a huge advantage for our plan.”

“Yes.” The word was almost a whisper, followed by a faint exhale that sounded more like a wince than relief.

Ophelia frowned. Now that she was listening closely, she could hear something else in her mother’s voice slowness, like every syllable took effort. “Maman… are you alright?”

A soft, brittle laugh. “Of course, sweetheart. What could possibly happen to me?”

Ophelia’s stomach tightened. Katherine’s voice was too smooth, too measured like she was hiding the fact she was struggling to breathe.

“I’ll talk to you later, Helia,” Katherine added suddenly, her tone clipped. “There’s… something I need to take care of.”

There was the faintest sound in the background before the call ended a wet, almost gurgling inhale, as if she’d been holding back a groan.

The line went dead.

Ophelia sat frozen, her phone still against her ear. She didn’t know what had just happened, but she could feel it Katherine wasn’t telling her everything.

And whatever it was… it was hurting her.

Chapter Text

Ophelia had been asleep for hours when the sensation came gentle fingers weaving through her hair, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing every strand. A melody floated into her ears, soft at first, but with a strange, lulling cadence. Notes seemed to almost trip over each other, sweet yet ever so slightly… wrong. The kind of tune that made the back of her neck prickle even as her chest ached with a sense of familiarity.

The touch lingered, sliding down to cup her cheek, warm and careful, almost reverent.

Her breathing slowed, matching the uneven rhythm of the song, and in her half-dreaming state she thought hazily, Maman…?

She sighed, sinking into the comfort of it until a sudden jolt of awareness hit her. Katherine wasn’t here. She hadn’t been for weeks. And the song… it wasn’t the one Katherine used to hum.

Her eyes flew open. The room was empty.

Heart thudding, she whispered a quick spell, the air shifting faintly in response but nothing appeared. No presence, no flicker of magic. Just her, alone.

She lay back down, telling herself it must have been a dream. Still, her skin tingled where those phantom fingers had touched her, and the ghost of that uneven melody seemed to echo faintly in the corners of the dark room, as though it wasn’t done with her yet.

Ophelia was helping Bonnie and Caroline decorate for the Night of Illumination festival. She had been filled in on all the details and honestly, their plan yesterday to kidnap Stefan sounded pathetic. It was destined to fail.

“So, when you cast that spell to send Vicky away, did it get rid of Anna too?” Caroline asked, adjusting a string of fairy lights.

Bonnie climbed down the ladder and shook her head. “I wish. All it did was cut off the magic that was helping Vicky get a physical foothold here. Jeremy still has a direct line to the Other Side.”

“And as long as he wants to see Anna, and she wants to see him, she’s still here,” Bonnie added quietly.

Caroline asked “You don’t think I can actually resist commenting on that, do you?”

“There. You commented,” Bonnie said

“Bonnie...” Ophelia and Caroline sighed in unison.

“What do you want me to say, guys? I messed with the balance of nature when I brought Jeremy back to life. Now I’m paying the price,” Bonnie said, frustration clear in her voice.

“Bonnie, at least tell us you’re not okay with this,” Ophelia pressed.

“I’m a thousand times not okay with this. I just don’t know what to do,” Bonnie snapped.

Just as Caroline opened her mouth to reply, the sound of a car engine stopping behind them caught their attention. They turned around to see Damon sitting in his car.

“Greetings, blondie, newbie, witchy,” Damon drawled. “Looks like you got your voodoo wires crossed when you got rid of Vicky Donovan.”

“What do you mean? Why?” Bonnie asked, wary.

“Because I’m pretty sure I just got spit-roasted by Mason Lockwood’s ghost,” Damon replied with a grimace.

Ophelia didn’t know who Mason Lockwood was, but hearing a ghost could physically interact with someone made her mind flash back to the morning’s strange incident.

“What?” Bonnie asked, confused.

“Why would you think that?” Caroline questioned.

“Maybe because he chained me to a chair and shoved a hot poker in my chest. Let’s just say I’m having some serious déjà vu,” Damon said dryly.

“I thought you said ghosts couldn’t physically interact with people?” Caroline said, frowning.

“They can’t,” Bonnie replied firmly.

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time for a vengeful Lockwood ghost. When I kill someone, they’re supposed to stay dead,” Damon said sharply.

“Whatever you’ve screwed up, fix it,” he added before driving away.

Ophelia made some vague excuse and slipped away from Bonnie and Caroline, her thoughts still snagged on the morning’s events. Damon’s story about his own ghostly encounter had settled the question in her mind this hadn’t been a dream. Her detection spell had failed because it wasn’t meant for someone from the other side.

The house greeted her with its usual hush, blinds drawn tight, the air cool and faintly scented with lavender. She set her bag on the couch then froze.

That tune again.

Gentle. Lulling. Almost… inviting.

It was coming from below.

The lower level of her home had been cloaked in gloom for weeks now, ever since the wiring had failed. No matter how many times she told herself she’d call an electrician, she always avoided it, preferring the way the dark seemed to swallow the space whole. Tonight, though, the shadows felt heavier.

She placed her hand on the banister. The old wooden stairs creaked like sighs beneath her feet. Each note of the melody was clearer now slow, deliberate, each key pressed with care, as if the player wanted to soothe her nerves rather than fray them.

At the bottom of the stairs, she saw her.

A woman sat at Ophelia’s piano, tucked into the farthest corner of the room. A single candle rested on top of the instrument, its flame casting a warm, shivering glow over pale fingers dancing across the keys.

The woman’s head was bowed, hair spilling like a curtain, her body swaying gently with the rhythm. The candlelight painted the air in gold, but the shadows behind her seemed deeper than they should be… shifting, like a tide.

The song slowed, tender and aching, until it ended on a lingering note that seemed to hum in the silence.

The woman stilled. She didn’t turn.

Then, in the quiet, she began to hum a low, soothing sound that curled around Ophelia like a lullaby, though her skin prickled as if she’d stepped too close to the edge of something she couldn’t see.

When the woman finally tilted her head toward her, the candle flickered… and for just a heartbeat, the shadows behind her leaned closer.

“Ophelia,” the woman called softly.

The name seemed to drift through the still, heavy air, brushing against Ophelia’s ears like a memory she didn’t know she had.

Ophelia froze on the last creaking step.

The woman’s profile was bathed in the faint glow of a single candle. She didn’t move from the piano, fingers resting gently against the ivory keys, but her head turned just enough for the light to catch in her hair.

It was the same shade as Ophelia’s deep ginger, catching the flame’s glow like burning copper. For a strange, unshakable second, Ophelia felt as though she were staring at her own reflection aged and distorted by time.

Then she saw the eyes.

Emerald green, bright even in the gloom. They locked on to her, unblinking, and in them was a pull something raw and aching, like they had been searching for her for a very, very long time.

Her chest tightened. She knew those eyes. She didn’t know how, but she knew them.

The woman’s lips curved, almost sadly, as if she could see Ophelia’s confusion and desperation to remember. Her gaze lingered, pleading in silence for recognition, then dimmed with the quiet acceptance of someone who had been let down before.

A faint draft shivered through the room, but the candle’s flame didn’t waver.

Somewhere deep in the shadows behind the piano, something shifted like the darkness itself was leaning closer.

“Who are you?” Ophelia asked softly.

The woman smiled a slow, knowing curve of the lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes and began walking toward her.

Ophelia’s mind told her she should step back. She didn’t know this woman. She didn’t know her intentions. She could be dangerous. But none of that mattered because the fear never came.

The folds of the woman’s gown shifted with each step deep green velvet trimmed with gold thread, the kind only the wealthy could afford in their time. The long, trailing sleeves brushed the floor, the lace at the cuffs slightly frayed from age but lovingly mended. The sight pulled at something buried deep in Ophelia’s memory.

She knew that style.

Not from portraits. Not from history books.
From her own life.

She had worn it herself

The woman’s hand rose, pale and cool, fingertips brushing Ophelia’s cheek with a tenderness that sent a shiver down her spine. Her emerald eyes were brimming love, desperation, and something else… something sharp, hidden deep beneath the longing.

It felt like she had been waiting for this moment for decades.

Before Ophelia could breathe, the woman’s arms were around her.

A strange warmth spread through her chest, wrapping her in a cocoon of peace and safety. The embrace felt… familiar. Protective. Like the warm, safe haven she had lost long ago.

And yet there was a weight in the embrace. Not heavy, but possessive. Like those arms were not just holding her, but claiming her.

The scent of something faintly sweet and old lavender and dust filled her lungs.

It was familiar. Nostalgic.

It was impossible. And yet, standing in those arms, Ophelia could almost believe she had come home.

Then it hit her fast and hard, like a jolt straight to the chest.

She was running down the long corridors of their family’s mansion, her tiny slippers skimming over the polished marble floor. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, and her laughter bounced off the walls.

“Slow down, my darling, or you’ll fall!” her mother called behind her, her voice warm with both warning and amusement.

“No, Mama! Then you’ll catch me!” Five-year-old Ophelia squealed, glancing over her shoulder just in time to trip over her skirts and go sprawling.

“Ophelia!” Her mother’s voice cracked as she rushed forward, skirts swishing. “Are you hurt?”

Ophelia looked up, grinning through her giggles. “It was an act, Mama.”

Her mother pressed a hand to her chest. “You frightened me half to death. Don’t do that again.”

The scene shifted.

Her father’s voice boomed in the drawing room, full of fury that made the air feel sharp.
“She’s a disappointment a girl. I need a son.”

“If you don’t give me a boy this time,” he roared at her mother, “I’ll throw you and the girl out, and find a wife who can.” A vase shattered against the floor.

Hiding behind the doorway, little Ophelia flinched, her hands shaking. The moment her father stormed out, she darted to her mother’s side.

“Mama, you’re hurt!”

Her mother crouched, pulling her into a tight embrace. “No, my love. I’m fine. Come, let’s get you to bed.”

The memory shifted again.

She lay curled up with her head in her mother’s lap, the golden glow of candlelight spilling over them. Her mother’s voice was soft as she read from a worn leather book.

“Mama,” Ophelia asked quietly, “when will I meet my prince?”

Her mother smiled, brushing a curl from her face. “When you’re grown, sweetheart.”

“Will he be like Father?”

Her mother froze for a moment, just a beat too long. “No,” she said at last, her voice low but steady. “He’ll love you more than anything, and protect you from everything. One day, you’ll have your fairytale.”

The vision faded, but the warmth of those arms and the sound of that voice lingered in her chest. Her lips trembled as she whispered into the still air

“Mama…”

Chapter Text

“Maman…”

She whispered it, barely trusting her own voice. Her mother gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, and Ophelia’s arms tightened instinctively around her. She felt the tears sliding down her cheeks before she could stop them.

“I can’t believe you’re here. But… how?” Ophelia breathed.

Her mother shook her head gently. “First, you need to eat, Ophelia. You didn’t even feed yesterday. Let’s go upstairs.”

Ophelia nodded, following her into the kitchen. She pulled open the freezer, took out a blood bag, and bit into it, gesturing for her mother to go on.

“When the Bennett witch brought the doppelgänger’s brother back to life, she cracked the door to the Other Side,” her mother began. “An older witch took advantage of that. And when she cast the spell to send a girl away, she wedged that door wide open giving anyone with unfinished business a free pass through.”

Ophelia frowned. “But why?”

“The Original Witch,” her mother said, voice low. “She wants to kill the doppelgänger.”

Ophelia’s stomach tightened. “Oh my God, I was right.... but I don’t understand. The Other Side is for supernaturals, right? If you were one, why did we have to live with Father?”

Her mother’s expression softened with sorrow. “You were so young then. You weren’t ready to know the truth.”

Ophelia’s eyes narrowed with quiet determination. “But I’m older now older than you, technically. Tell me, Maman.

Her mother let out a long, weary sigh. “I was born into the Gemini Coven, the eldest daughter. They had high hopes for me. But when I turned out to be a siphoner, they decided I was useless. My coven sold me to the highest bidder who would take my hand. Your father… he was a cruel man who wanted nothing more than a beautiful trophy to show off. Without a source of magic, I had no way to defend myself. But when you were born and I realized you were a siphoner too I knew I had to protect you from both the coven and your father. Even if it meant hiding the truth from you.”

Ophelia didn’t speak. She simply stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her mother.

“I don’t have much time, Ophelia,” her mother murmured into her hair, “but with whatever time I do have… I want to spend it with you. I want to hear everything, every milestone I missed.”

Ophelia smiled and nodded, following her mother to the dining room. They sat together, the air thick with emotions neither of them could put into words.

“I’ve been watching you from the Other Side,” her mother began softly. “I’m so glad Katherine found you. I’m glad you had a mother figure in your life… even if she was a vampire.”

Ophelia’s fingers fidgeted against each other. “You… you don’t hate that I’m a vampire, do you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her mother’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. “I won’t lie once, I despised vampires. I thought they were nothing but monsters. But then I saw Katherine, as a vampire, give you more love than your father ever did as a human. And you… you were turned without your consent. Even if you had chosen it, I could never hate you, my love.”

Relief softened Ophelia’s face, and her lips curved into a genuine smile. She leaned forward, her voice spilling into the air as she began to tell her mother everything her life, her struggles, her victories, the moments her mother had missed.

She didn’t realize how much time had passed until the sunlight outside shifted to a dusky gold, the shadows stretching longer across the room.

“It’s getting dark,” Ophelia murmured. “I should check with Caroline see what they’re doing about… all of this.”

Her mother simply nodded, watching her reach for her phone.

Ophelia dialed Caroline’s number and waited, the ringing feeling longer than usual until a voice finally came through.

“Ophelia! Are you okay? Is your mother alright?”

For a moment, Ophelia blinked in confusion then remembered the story she’d fed them, about her mother being sick and wanting to talk to her  to go back home.

“Yes, she’s… better,” Ophelia replied quickly, steering the conversation away. “How’s the ghost situation?”

“It’s intense,” Caroline said grimly. “The ghosts of the tomb vampires killed Tobias Fell.”

“Oh my God. Do you guys have a plan?”

“We just have to find Elena’s old necklace once we have it, we can send the ghosts back.”

Ophelia hesitated, her throat tightening. “Right. Well… call me when you find it, okay? Bye.”

She ended the call before Caroline could say more.
It was childish she knew it but the selfish part of her didn’t want them to find that necklace. Not yet. She wanted every stolen second she could get with her mother.

Her mother seemed to read her thoughts. She crossed the room and wrapped Ophelia in a warm embrace.

“We still have some time left,” she murmured with a gentle smile. “Don’t waste it on worry, my love.”

Half an hour later, Ophelia lay with her head in her mother’s lap, the steady rhythm of her fingers in Ophelia’s hair almost enough to make her forget that this was temporary.

Then her phone pinged.
She glanced at the screen. A message from Caroline.

We found the necklace.

“No,” Ophelia breathed, sitting upright as if the words themselves had struck her. “No, no… we were supposed to have more time. It’s too early.”

Her mother took her hands in hers, calm even in the face of Ophelia’s panic. “Ophelia, my love… I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be with you, you just won’t be able to see me.”

Tears blurred her vision as she threw her arms around her, holding on as tightly as she could. “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too,” her mother whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I am so proud of you. Stay strong for me, my love.”

She pressed a gentle kiss to Ophelia’s forehead and then she was gone.

The room felt instantly colder.
The faint scent of lavender her mother’s scent lingered in the air, clinging to Ophelia’s hair and clothes. And for a moment, she swore she felt fingers brush through her hair one last time.

“No,” Ophelia choked out, collapsing to her knees on the floor, her sobs the only sound left in the silence.