Could a person who considered her or himself best become better?
Fast answer, yes and no.
A person can always become better than what already exist. Its like asking your partner if they would leave for someone more beautiful. You may say no, and answer that no one is more beautiful.
But that's a lie covered in a wrapper made of knifes.
There will always be someone more beautiful, and most important in Ophelia case. Stronger.
Which is why she sought after an old friend for help with this.
The talking book.
After gaining a hit on Fontaine in their training match she found out that the book had been made by the daughter of Isolt Sayre. Rionach Steward. According to Fontaine, she had always sought to help the young wizards and witches with difficulties. But as magic changed she wasn't needed, until Fila came along and used Ancient magic.
Fila had her hand dust of the cover of the book and it flipped open gently.
'Ophelia, finally.' The words appeared on the first page.
"Yes, yes. Sorry for the long pause," Fila answered, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "I had a championship to win. And… other things to deal with."
The book's pages turned slowly, as if thinking.
'Other things,' it wrote. 'You mean the darkness you keep trying to chain. The betrayal. The blood you spilled in that quarry. I felt it, even from here.'
Fila let out a slow breath. The bloody Ophelia manifested beside her, leaning against the wall with crossed arms and a faint smirk, but she stayed quiet — respecting the ceasefire.
"I realized something," Fila said. "No matter how strong I become, there will always be someone stronger. Someone faster. Someone who wants it more. So I need to stop trying to be the best… and start trying to be better than I was yesterday."
The book was silent for a moment. Then new words appeared, slower this time.
'A wise realization for one so young. Most never learn that lesson. They chase the illusion of being untouchable until it destroys them. Your grandfather chased that illusion.'
Fila's jaw tightened slightly at the mention, but she didn't flinch.
"I know. That's why I'm going to Durmstrang. But before I leave… I need your help. I need to integrate the two halves of myself. The girl who wants to grow roots and explore jungles… and the one who can make roses bloom inside someone's body. I don't want to kill one to save the other."
The bloody Ophelia raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
The book's pages flipped rapidly, then settled.
'Integration is painful. It requires honesty. You must accept that the girl who cried in Beatriz's arms and the girl who smiled while tearing another apart are the same person. Not enemies. Not a monster wearing a mask. Just… you.'
Fila stared at the words for a long time.
"I'm trying," she whispered. "The ceasefire is holding. But I can feel it won't last forever unless I make them into one."
Fila reached out and gently closed the book, resting her hand on the cover.
"Thank you, Rionach," she said softly. "For still helping, even after all this time."
The book warmed slightly under her palm, as if acknowledging the words.
Fila stood up, adjusted her blindfold, and looked at the bloody version of herself.
"Ready to become one?" she asked quietly.
Fila smiled, "Alright, lets try." She said and stood Infront of her.
Both of them knew they wanted this, if they wanted to be stronger. One would be needed, not two and two in constant conflict. What effects would this bring? Who knew, but hopefully something better than this.
"How do we even do this?" they both said at the exact same time.
The bloody Ophelia let out a short, wet laugh. Fila's own lips twitched in response. For a moment, the absurdity of the situation, two versions of the same damaged girl standing face to face trying to merge — felt almost comical.
The talking book, still open on the table, glowed softly. New words appeared on the page:
'You already know. Acceptance. Not destruction. Not suppression. You must swallow the blade instead of fighting it.'
Fila stared at her other self. The blood-soaked white dress, the blindfold dripping crimson, the raw wounds that never healed. All the pain, rage, and survival instinct she had locked away.
"I'm scared," Fila admitted quietly. "If I let you in completely… what if there's nothing left of the girl who loved ugly jungle stages and talked too fast about roots?"
The bloody Ophelia stepped closer until they were nearly touching. The smell of old blood and rust filled the air between them.
"And what if there's nothing left of me?" she rasped back. "The part that kept us alive when they cut us open. The part that smiled while making that boy scream. The part that refuses to be weak ever again."
They looked at each other, mirror images separated by trauma and choice.
Fila raised her hand slowly. The bloody Ophelia did the same. Their fingers met.
The moment they touched, pain exploded behind Fila's eyes.
Memories flooded her. The dark basement. The doctor's instruments. Three weeks of hell. The moment she first felt the ancient magic stir inside her like a living forest. The betrayal in Bea's voice. The sick satisfaction of watching thorns bloom inside Itsuki. The warmth of Bea's arms. The fear in June's eyes.
It hurt.
It burned.
Fila gasped and dropped to one knee. The bloody Ophelia flickered, her form destabilizing as if being pulled apart and stitched back together at the same time.
"You… have to want me," the dark version whispered, voice cracking. "Not as a weapon. Not as a monster. As part of you."
Fila clenched her teeth, blood running from under her blindfold again.
"I do," she forced out. "I want all of it. The roots… and the thorns."
The pain peaked, a white-hot flash that made her cry out, then suddenly eased.
When she opened her eyes, the bloody Ophelia was gone.
Fila stood up slowly, breathing hard. She touched her own chest. her breathing was heavy, forced. "Fuck, that hurt a lot." She told herself while trying to make her eyes stop spinning stars in front of her.
The talking book's pages turned.
'Well done. The first step is always the hardest. The rest… will take years.'
Fila wiped the blood from under her blindfold and smiled faintly, tired, but real.
"Yeah," she whispered. "I know."
Surprisingly, she didn't feel much different. But maybe she wouldn't feel different. Two people colliding wouldn't make a difference for oneself. Only the people around her would notice now.
Maybe, if they cared enough.
Fila held out her palm, and in it grew a rose.
Black petals surrounding the red in the middle. "You little bi…"
The door to her room opened and interrupted her. "You ready for dinner," The gentle voice of June said with a warm smile.
Fila smiled back, hiding the flower behind her back. "Lets go." She said cheerfully while the flower turned to ash in her clutched palm.
The duel between Sera and Tiago took place during the days where Fila didn't feel like herself fully after becoming one with herself.
Sera lost, not by a lot but she lost. She wasn't disappointed by it, the duel had been as fair as they could and even showed that the two had very similar strength. Even making the duel take over ten minutes to complete. Only ending because Sera lost too much blood.
Tiago had been hurt badly, almost loosing his left arm fully.
Which in it self Sera took as a small victory.
Competing in the next duel…
*Boom* echoed through the dueling stage. Scattering tree part all over it.
"FUCK!" Aaron screamed out as he clutched his right leg which had been pierced by shrapnel.
Parts of the spectators cheered as the opponent got an advantage as this.
Aaron had been doing well until that moment, aggressive transfiguration spells that turned parts of the stage into living traps. But his opponent, a Mahoutokoro fourth-year with a brutal explosive style, had baited him perfectly. Now Aaron was down, blood soaking through his robes, while the healer team rushed in.
Fila's expression didn't change. She felt… nothing strong. No rage. No overwhelming urge to step in. Just the quiet assessment of what went wrong and how it could have been avoided.
June stood beside her, gripping the railing tightly. "That looked bad. He might be out for the rest of the tournament."
Fila took a piece of popcorn and flipped it like a coin into her mouth, "Hes fucked." She said plainly.
There wasn't a lie being said here, and it showed. Aaron had lost his control of the ring and now Kaito had the advantage and opportunity of a lifetime.
Kaito had always been a sort of mystery. A giant in human form, muscles bigger than muscles builders.
Ophelia had trained with him in the gym a couple of time. but she didn't like how quiet he went during his workouts. Hes the typical 'don't talk to me during gym time' which wouldn't fly for Fila as she wanted to talk about different exercises and other things.
Aaron shot away another spell which kicked up dust and gravel in the face of Kaito.
'he's just making himself struggle for longer' Fila thought now leaning against her palm. A pointless continuation of a duel.
In her book, Kaito had already won, so she stood up and started walking out. June and Miles both looked at her with surprised expressions and soon followed her.
"Hey," June said while giving a slight jog to catch up. "Why are you just leaving?" she said as she caught up.
"Because it's already decided. Kaito has the advantage, the positioning, and the momentum. Aaron is just bleeding out his pride at this point. Dragging it out won't change the outcome, it'll just make the healers' job harder."
Miles caught up on Fila's other side. "That's kinda harsh. Aaron's been training hard."
"I know," Fila replied, stepping over a thick root in the path. "But hard work doesn't override bad decisions in the ring. He lost control of the terrain and gave Kaito a clean opening. That's not bad luck. That's a mistake. And now I want a bath."
For Fila, this wasn't a big deal. He would lose and she would continue to fight the next opponent if she gets drawn. The only thing that might get a bit annoying is another point to the Japanese. Which would bring the score to 3 – 2 – 1. Laughable really.
But with another step that Ophelia took, something washed over her. A feeling, a presence. Something that could be described with a wolf watching over a little Bambie.
Relief and disbelief soon came over her, she knew this feeling or this magic.
"Ophelia Rosier Grindelwald." a sharp voice cut from behind them. even June and Miles almost jumped at the commanding tone of the voice.
Fila felt her shoulders tense up.
Fila turned slowly.
Two figures stood on the path behind them. The first was a short, elegant older woman with silver-streaked dark hair pulled into a severe bun. Her robes were deep crimson and black, edged with silver runes. Her face was sharp, beautiful in a cold, aristocratic way, and her eyes burned with fierce intelligence and something close to hunger.
Vinda Rosier.
Beside her stood a tall, handsome man in his late thirties with the same sharp features and dark hair. Evan Rosier. He carried himself with lazy confidence, but his eyes were alert, amused, and dangerous.
Vinda's gaze locked onto Fila like a predator finally sighting its long-lost cub. A slow, proud smile curved her lips.
"My dear girl," Vinda said, voice softening just a fraction, though the steel remained. "Look at you. All grown up and already making the world tremble. The papers do not do you justice."
Evan chuckled lowly, hands in his pockets.
"She really doesn't. That photo in the Prophet was good, but seeing it in person… the resemblance is striking. The posture. The control. You wear the name well."
Vinda walked passed June and Miles and stopped just before Fila, "Didn't I tell you to be a little gentle atleast." She said with a sigh but pulled the girl into a warm embrace.
Even if Ophelia had seen Vinda all summer, it still felt very good to hug her grandmother again.
"Sorry, but that article is bullshit… almost." Fila responded with a light smile as she sank into the shoulder of her grandmother.
June and Miles stood as two deer's struck by headlights as they watched the random grandma come in a hug Ophelia.
Vinda pulled back just enough to cup Fila's face with both hands, thumbs brushing just beneath the blindfold. Her eyes were sharp, proud, and calculating all at once.
"Rita Skeeter is a parasite with a quill," she said dismissively. "She writes what sells. But even she cannot hide how strong you've become." Her gaze flicked briefly toward the bloodstained golden Thunderbird on the blindfold. "You wear your power well, my dear. Just remember, fear is a tool. Not a destination."
Evan stepped forward, hands still in his pockets, wearing that lazy, dangerous smile.
"She had been, handled." He said lightly.
Which got a reaction from Fila that mimicked a shocked chipmunk. "Did you kill her?!"
The accusation cut thorugh the forest. And they all stood and just litened to the quiet for a bit, only the sound of the distant dueling ring cheers could be heard.
"No, we didn't kill her," he said, clearly amused by the accusation. "Though I'll admit the thought crossed my mind more than once while reading that trash. We simply… had a conversation. Suggested that certain topics might be healthier for her career if left alone."
'Freedom of press is still a thing uncle.' Fila thought but killing Rita had been a thought she also had circled around many time since the article came out. Would she do it? no but maybe just grow a bamboo stick through her arm or something as a warning.
Miles poked June with his elbow, "I think that's her grandma." He said quietly.
June elbowed him hard in the ribs.
Simple things like a visit from close family could change a lot, even if you think your okay.
And just that Fila felt now with her grandmother here, a person she didn't know she needed to see right now.
"But what are you doing here?" Fila asked as the hug finally ended.
Evan and Vinda had come all the way from France just to see her? No way.
Vinda gave a soft laugh, "What, I can't come and see my granddaughter who causes attention and confusion all over the wizarding world on a daily?" she asked with a tilted head as if was self-explanatory."
Fila crossed her arms, "I don't cause all that. It just has its way to do that by itself."
Both Vinda and Evan exchanged a knowing look, "Yes that's what all the trouble makers say. But we also came here with someone who would like a word with you."
Another magical sources appeared just behind them, And a giant woman walked towards them.
Fila had seen one giant before, Hagrid in her dream. But seeing one in person could only be decided as, mind bending as the human brain is so used to seeing the usual height. Almost like seeing a pink elephant, its just not right.
As the giant approached her features became visible. Brown hair, long face as a giant usually had. But she walked with this grace that didn't belong to someone that tall. The choice of clothing also gave of a strange vibe. A coat with fur? In the middle of this humid jungle.
"Let me introduce the headmistress of Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons. Madame Olympe Maxime." Vinda said as the half giant finally stopped in front of Fila.
A gulp sound came from the throat of Ophelia as she had to almost lean back to look at the headmistress's face.
The half-giant headmistress regarded Fila with calm, measured interest, her large hands clasped in front of her fur-lined coat.
"Miss Grindelwald," Madame Maxime said, her voice deep but surprisingly gentle, carrying a refined French accent. "It is an honor to finally meet you in person. Your performances in this tournament have been… most talked about."
Fila swallowed once, trying to regain her composure. Even after everything — the integration, the duels, the blood — meeting someone this physically imposing in the middle of the Amazon felt surreal.
"Headmistress Maxime," she replied, keeping her voice steady. "I didn't expect… well, any of this today."
Vinda stood beside her granddaughter with quiet pride, one hand resting lightly on Fila's shoulder.
"Madame Maxime expressed interest in meeting you after reading the reports," Vinda explained smoothly. "Beauxbatons has always valued elegance and power in equal measure. She wished to see the girl who has caused such… commotion."
Madame Maxime gave a small, graceful nod, her massive form somehow moving with surprising poise.
"Your magic is raw, Miss Grindelwald. Ancient. Unrefined in places, yes — but powerful. Very powerful." Her eyes flicked briefly to the bloodstained golden Thunderbird on Fila's blindfold. "Beauxbatons would have welcomed such talent. But I understand Durmstrang has already claimed you."
Fila once she heard the claim shook her head. "NO, no wait hold on." She began while waving her hand to make everything paus. "Durmstrang hasn't claimed me, only Ilvermorny has the ability to claim me. I'm only going there until summer. I would love to visit your school after the summer." She said.
The claim got a very pleased expression from the headmistress and even Vinda who wanted Fila to change school to Beauxbatons, Smile from ear to ear.
"If… you would have me of course." Fila said while feeling a bit vary, the recent events wasn't something to take lightly. And if the school would even…
"We would love to have you Miss Grindelwald." The half giant cut Ophelias overthinking in half.
Fila gave a small, cautious nod, still processing the rapid shift in possibilities. Only minutes ago she had been mentally preparing for the cold isolation of Durmstrang. Now two powerful figures were offering her choices — and watching her with clear interest.
"I appreciate the offer," she said carefully, voice steady. "I'll think about it seriously after the summer. Right now I just need to focus on surviving Durmstrang first."
Madame Maxime chuckled, a low, rumbling sound.
"A wise approach. Durmstrang is not a gentle school. But from what I have seen of you… you will do more than survive."
Evan gave Fila a lazy salute with two fingers.
"Try not to let the northern cold freeze that fire completely. We'll be keeping an eye on your progress. Family tradition and all that."
Vinda leaned in one last time, pressing a kiss to Fila's forehead.
"Be extraordinary, my dear. And remember — you are never truly alone."
With that, the two Rosiers and Madame Maxime took their leave, disappearing down the jungle path with the same graceful authority they had arrived with. The air felt lighter once they were gone, as if a heavy, ancient presence had finally lifted.
June and Miles slowly stepped closer, both looking slightly dazed.
June was the first to speak.
"…So your grandmother is scary-powerful, your uncle is terrifyingly charming, and now the giant headmistress of Beauxbatons just personally invited you to her school after summer?" She let out a breathless laugh. "Your life is never boring, is it?"
Fila let out a tired but genuine chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Apparently not. I think I'm going to need that bath even more now."