Vagary

Chapter 20 When the Time Comes Ophelia

"Harmonia Nectere Passus," Ophelia whispered. "Harmonia Nectere Passus. Harmonia Nectere Passus."

Two agonizing weeks had crawled by since Draco's brush with death, a haunting reminder of the perilous path they now tread. Ophelia, her heart heavy with a potent mix of anguish and determination, found solace in a singular purpose: to mend the shattered remnants of the Vanishing Cabinet. Each painstaking step she took towards its restoration fueled her resolve, for it held the key to a future that beckoned with both dread and anticipation. With every whispered incantation, she longed for the inevitable to hasten its arrival, driven by a fervent desire to face what lay ahead, no matter the cost.

"Harmonia Nectere Passus," Ophelia continued to repeat.

As the hours slipped away in the Room of Requirement, Ophelia's heart grew heavy with a mix of determination and concern. With every step she took, the weight of her purpose echoed in her footsteps, leading her down the corridors towards the hospital wing. There, amidst the hushed whispers and the sterile scent of antiseptic, she found Draco, his features softened in slumber. It was in these moments, when the world seemed to hold its breath, that Ophelia's devotion to her brother shone brightest. While others came and went, offering fleeting moments of solace, she remained a constant presence by his side, her unwavering loyalty etched in her every action. Night and day, she stood as his guardian, her unwavering determination to mend the Vanishing Cabinet mirrored in her unwavering commitment to her brother's well-being.

As her eyes fixated on the inky expanse of the night sky beyond the towering windows, Ophelia's mind swirled with a tumultuous mix of emotions. It was as if time itself had become a fickle companion, for in the span of mere seconds, everything had transformed. The love she once held for Harry now lay shattered, replaced by a seething hatred that coursed through her veins.

"Pansy told me you knocked Potter out of his wits," Draco's voice said softly.

Ophelia's gaze remained steadfast, refusing to waver from the captivating allure of the night sky. "That's mere meek deserved more than that," she sneered softly.

Draco's scoffed in agreement.

"I think I'm making progress with the Vanishing Cabinet," Ophelia said quietly.

"Really?" Draco said, sitting up so suddenly that he hissed in pain.

"Don't move around like that," Ophelia said, pushing him down softly. "You're still recovering."

"You sound like mum," Draco grumbled, reluctantly laying back down. "How do you know it's making progress?"

"It's just a feeling. It feels like it's getting there," Ophelia said listlessly.

"Madam Pomfrey said I can leave tomorrow morning so we go after classes are over," Draco said excitedly.

A gentle, tender smile graced Ophelia's lips as she beheld the radiant glow of excitement that danced in her brother's eyes. But as Draco's eyes met hers, a subtle shift occurred, and the flicker of excitement that once danced within him dimmed, like a fading ember robbed of its vibrant glow.

"You're blaming yourself, aren't you?" he questioned, frowning

Ophelia's smile faded and averted her gaze back to the night sky. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, carrying with it the weight of regret and self-blame. For deep down, she couldn't deny the truth that gnawed at her heart--the truth that her actions had set in motion a chain of events that led to Harry's confrontation with Draco. Fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of irony, weaving a web of circumstances that entangled them all.