𝐎𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧/𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱
𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞
"𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐠𝐨."
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"Class dismissed." The shuffling of feet and closing of books and creasing of notebooks filled the air as the class made their way out of the murky classroom. Ophelia stuffed her Potions textbook into her bag and turned to Draco.
"I'll meet you outside, just give me a moment." He nodded gently, scowling over at the Gryffindor trio. She sighed, gripping her bag's strap tightly as she made her way over. Ron was hastily packing his things up, avoiding the stern gaze of Professor Snape. His red hair was unkempt and swept all over the place as he rapidly moved. Taking a breath in, she tapped Hermione's shoulder, watching as the bushy-haired girl's head whipped around. Her eyes widened and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"Hello," Ophelia said, hiking her relatively heavy bag up across her body. Ron finished packing and stood up, smiling lightly at the Slytherin girl, but was elbowed immediately by Harry. She furrowed her eyebrows.
"Are you ignoring me?" Ron looked down at his feet, and Hermione was still silent. She looked to Harry, who had an unreadable simper on his face. He shook his head and stuffed his hands into his robe pockets.
"Look, Ophelia. We can't... associate ourselves with you anymore," Ophelia caught a breath in her chest as her heart shattered. Time slowed down to the sluggish suspiring of her chest. Astounded at their brutality, his words ripped through her like a hot knife through butter. Her heartbeat thumped in her ears, and the blood rushed to her head. A small part of her knew this would happen. Was it because of Draco? He had been an absolute gentleman to her, nothing but polite. Sure, he had prejudices and a deep hatred for anything but purebloods, but that was the way he was raised. Her lip quivered as the three Gryffindors stared as she crumbled to bits.
"It's because I'm a Slytherin, isn't it?!" She spat, eyes welling up with tears. It was a rhetorical question, she already knew the answer. Harry rolled his eyes and brushed past her, Hermione in tow. Ron lingered back a little, frowning as he passed her.
"Bye, Ophelia." He murmured. Hermione called for him from the hallway, and he disappeared in a flash. Ophelia clutched her textbook to her chest, embedding her nails into her biceps in an attempt to suppress a sob. It was bound to happen. She bowed her head to the floor, shuffling her shoes against the rough stone.
"I suggest you leave soon, Ms Barrows, you don't want to be... late," Snape called from his desk, muttering something incoherent to himself. She sniffled sharply, wiping her tumefying tears with the sleeve of her robe as she made her way out, muttering a low thank you to the dispassionate man and closed the door behind her. Draco was leaning against a wall, flipping through one of his many books, slithering the cream-coloured page in between his fingers delicately.
"Finally, I was wondering wh-" He stopped, his smirk falling into a frown when he saw the brimming tears. Ophelia risked the urge to sob, clamping her mouth shut with a sweaty palm and muffled her cries. He had no idea what to do. She let her neck hang and clutched her stomach as he pulled her into an awkward hug, manoeuvring around her limp head and rested his chin upon her bony shoulder. He rubbed her upper back slightly before letting go.
"Don't worry about them," He shifted his gaze towards the departing trio, practically seething.
"You've got me." Draco held out his elbow, but she clutched onto her book tighter, pushing the novel into her chest and making it harder to breathe, as if it was the only thing that could ground her. He sighed before motioning his head towards the training grounds. Ophelia nodded timidly, wiping away her tears as they made their way. Was she truly where she desired to be?
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She frowned as she watched Hermione struggle to lift her broom, her tiny hand outstretched above the freshly varnished piece of wood. The girl scowled at Harry as it sailed into his grasp with ease. Ophelia held her grip tighter on her broom as she watched them do so. To tell the truth, it shouldn't have been that hard for her anyways. Two days in, and she's already at the top of their class. She began to feel sharp prickles against her palm and released her grip, placing the broom in her other hand to inspect her palm.
Splinters, and a lot of them. Ophelia hissed, plucking out a few protruding pieces with her nails. She heard someone let out a yelp, snapping her head in the direction of the sound. Ron was clutching his nose, keeling over in pain as Harry snickered. He said something inaudible to the hurt boy, who spat something back as he picked up his broom. The two held their breath before breaking into a fit of giggles. Hermione did the same as Ron, huffing at her failure. Ophelia couldn't help the sly simper the crossed her face before Madam Hooch caught her attention.
"Once you've got your brooms," She eyed Ron.
"I want you to mount it." Ophelia smoothly mounted her broom, making sure her robes didn't snag on the bristles at the tail of the handle. She grinned over at Draco, who beamed right back. The looked back at Madam Hooch.
"Hold it tight, we don't want you slipping off the end." She adjusted a Gryffindor girl's grip, who blushed profoundly when Hooch turned around. Ophelia let out a breathy tch, wringing her hands around the dense timber.
"When I blow my whistle, I want you to push off from the ground!" She motioned her hands down while rolling up onto the balls of her feet. She took her whistle into her hand, pinching it in between her forefinger and thumb.
"Hover for a moment, then lean forward and touch back down." Gasps and whistles of excitement as students lifted into the air. Draco was incredibly happy, smirking gleefully as he lifted into the air. Ophelia tightened her grip as well, bending her knees and pushed up from the earth. She watched as the soil below her drifted away, grass fronds dispersed, and weeds narrowed but crunched underneath her weight as soon as they were freed. A smug simper crossed her face as she high-fived her fellow Slytherin, crossing her arms as she stared over at Harry, who also completed the task with ease. Of course, he would. The bloody Boy-Who-Lived had everything handed to him on a golden salver with Dumbledore and McGonagall wrapped around his pudgy, little, finger...
Ophelia shook her head, bewildered. What in the bloody hell was that?! She was starting to think like... oh no. Draco. She gnawed at her lip in contemplation. Sure, she didn't particularly like Harry at the moment, but she would have never gone that far. She'd never bashed someone like that, even if it was hidden in her own thoughts. Confiding in someone wouldn't be an option, at least not now. Draco would praise her for it, tell her she was finally becoming a true Slytherin. Not that he was a real example either. Hermione wouldn't utter a word to her at all, having her nose cleft in a book just to evade eye-contact. And Ron, poor Ron. He would get defensive of his new best mate.
Drawing her from her untimely train of thought, someone's frantic wails were heard down the line. She looked to her left and gasped. A Gryffindor boy, Longbottom, she thought his name was, was lifting high into the air. He wailed as the broom went higher and higher, taking the frightened boy with it—five metres, ten metres, twenty metres up. Madam Hooch was yelling for the boy to come down, but he had already taken off, leaning flush to his broom and screaming. He swerved around in the air, narrowly avoiding towers and windows. He rounded around, barreling towards a spire upon the castle, but didn't dodge fast enough. His robe caught on the point of the pole, and his broom dropped to the ground. Longbottom peered upwards and saw the ever-growing rip in his hood. He shrieked as he fell, catching upon another spike before falling onto the ground with a crunch. Ophelia winced, turning her gaze away and shutting her eyes. He moaned, rolling over onto his side as Madam Hooch punched her way through the crowd of students. She was muttering to herself as she lifted the boy's arm, who yelped in pain. She sighed, hoisting the injured boy up and pushed him towards the infirmary before turning back to the class.
"I want everyone's feet to stay on the ground before I get back. No excuses." She pointed towards the whole group before disappearing into the halls of the castle. Ophelia turned back to Draco, who bent down and picked up a mysterious object. He turned it over in his palm and revealed it to be a translucent sphere, encompassed by a ring of gold and intricately designed bands and spools of silver.
"You see this?" He tossed the Remembrall up in the air and eyed the rest of the Slytherins.
"Maybe if the fat lad would have given this a squeeze, he would have remembered to fall on his fat arse!" The students snickered and laughed, but Ophelia stayed silent. Harry had taken notice of Draco's jeering and pushed his shoulder.
"Give it here, Malfoy." He demanded. Draco's sly smirk fell into a frown, as he turned around. The two boys glared at each other.
"No," He stated.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find." Draco turned around, holding the Remembrall just out of reach and took towards the skies. Ophelia sighed and glanced over at the Gryffindor trio. The jumped back as Draco flew right through the crowd. He jeered back at Harry, who scowled as the blonde boy floated high in the air.
"What's the matter, Potter? Bit beyond your reach?" Harry began to mount his broom before Hermione stopped him.
"No way! You heard Madam Hooch. Besides, you don't even know how to fly!" Harry rolled his eyes, but Ophelia jumped in.
"Don't feed into his ego." The two Gryffindors shot glares at the young girl, who raised her hands in defeat and stepped back.
"I don't need to listen to the likes of you." Harry spat, mounting his broom and taking to the skies after Draco, who whizzed away. Hermione muttered an incoherent insult as Ophelia palmed her forehead. The two boys faced off, Harry still wobbling as he came to a slowing stop. He yelled at Draco, who just smirked as he did so.
Suddenly, the blonde boy threw the ball towards the other side of the courtyard, and Harry zoomed after it. He sped through the air, his robes fluttering behind him as he barreled right towards a castle tower. He pulled up and managed to catch the ball in his hand, admiring what he just did for a few moments. Draco huffed as he settled beside Ophelia, scowling up at the triumphant Gryffindor boy. The class watched as Harry gracefully descended to the ground, hopping off of his broom and tucked the Remembrall into his pocket. They all cheered and clapped, congratulating Harry on his achievement. His smile was as wide as her Uncle Dominic, who was a rather girthy fellow himself. Hermione hugged him, while Ron high-fived him, but departed quickly when a strident voice called across the courtyard.
"Harry Potter?!" Professor McGonagall came stomping over to the classroom, who quickly stepped into line as she practically pulled Harry by the ear towards her office. Ophelia sucked on a piece of her lip suppressing a frown, keeping a stoic expression. Draco cackled at the dejected boy and begun to make a jeering comment, but she shot him a look of disapproval. He widened his eyes but scowled as he looked down at the ground.
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Distant combined laughter made its way through the Slytherin Common Room's entrance as Ophelia slid the door open and walked inside. She knew that laughter like the back of her hand, and she wanted to make her way to her dorm unnoticed. She had listened in on Harry's conversation with Ron and Hermione after his conference with McGonagall. How she would love to see the shock on Draco's face when she told him the news.
The common room was rather dark, so she decided to slip around in the corners of the main antechamber, avoiding the ocherous glow of the fiery hearth that flickered upon the massive portraits of past Slytherins, all dressed in sabre and green cloaks and suits. She held her sleeves to her chest, careful not to knock into any pieces of furniture or break any tapers. But her attempt to slip away unseen was blundered.
"What does Potter have to do this time? Polish the boy's lavatory?" Draco called out to her, causing Ophelia to stop in her tracks. She stood up and smoothed out her robes to look at least a smidge more presentable. Blaise, Goyle, and Crabbe sat on one leather couch, parallel to Pansy and Draco, who was shuffling his way to the end of the divan, making as much space as he could between him and the incredibly clingy girl. She rolled her eyes at the sight and stepped down into the lower foyer.
"I guess you haven't heard," She said smugly, clasping her hands in front of her waist. Draco raised his eyebrows and looked around at his group of henchmen, who shrugged and shifted their attention back to Ophelia.
"Heard what?" He clenched his teeth, straightening his back abnormally as he sat up.
"Harry's been named the new Gryffindor seeker," Ophelia smirked, pivoting on her heel and hastily made her way back to her dorm room. As she did so, she heard Draco exclaim something profound, causing her to almost barrel over in a fit of giggles at his dismayed expression.