❝ 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧... ❞
theodore nott x fem oc
*very slow burn*
this book is written for, and dedicated to all swifties out there.
rated mature for explicit violence, graphic de...
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
ON THE TWENTY-FOURTH OF APRIL, 1995, Ophelia turned fifteen. She woke up in her bed in the room of requirement, and stared up at the pink constellation ceiling, a heavy stone settled in her stomach. In an orthodox pureblood household, she was expected to be out in society, on the market, ready to be wed. Sold to the highest bidder.
But in recent years, only a handful of pureblood families followed this tradition. Thankfully, Lucius and Narcissa no longer followed their ancestors' tradition. Narcissa had broken tradition and married Lucius at the age of eighteen. According to Ophelia, eighteen was still awfully young to get married, but it was still better than fifteen.
But that did not stop the Malfoy heiress from feeling that there were some young girls out there who were pulled out of their education at the age of fifteen and arranged to marry a man they had never met, and it filled her heart with sadness.
It was then that she concluded that her education was a privilege, and, who knew if the upcoming dark war would come in the way of her education or not? She decided that she would begin attending her classes again, regardless of how depressed she felt inside.
She got ready, putting on her school uniform. Then, she sat on the bed, and sighed. She needed reassurance, before suddenly attending her classes again.
She needed a hug.
She needed to talk to someone.
But... she had no one.
No, wait, not no one.
She had someone.
Someone who had been there for her through it all, someone who she trusted.
She found herself knocking Professor McGonagall's private office door ten minutes later. She waited a few seconds, and was about to turn around, when the Professor opened the door.
Professor McGonagall smiled at her through her glasses.
"Ophelia, you are spending more time in my office than my classroom, it seems," Professor McGonagall gave Ophelia a tight lipped smile.
But Ophelia didn't reply with words. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Professor McGonagall tightly, waiting for the professor to step backwards and push her away.
Professor McGonagall froze. None of her students had hugged her in many, many years. The least person she would expect to hug her was Ophelia Malfoy. The so called 'Ice Princess.' Professor McGonagall came to the conclusion that Ophelia would only hug her if things were extremely tough on her.
Slowly, Professor McGonagall's lips etched into a rare smile, and hugged Ophelia back, slowly stroking her spine.
