Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter character's or anything related to the works of J.K Rowling. I only own the plot and any original characters you might notice.

I do not have a beta to help with any errors in this chapter and this is a long one so it might have a bunch of errors. Let me know and I will fix it as soon as I can.

Again, I am moving in with a friend and so we won't have any internet for a while. I was able to get this chapter out before everything goes to hell because I hate, hate, HATE packing. I hope you guys like this chapter, hopefully it gives you more of a peace of mind since chapter 20. I also decided to flesh out William and Peter a little bit more and I wanted to hint at something between two certain characters.

I will update as soon as everything needed for my new living arrangement is done and over with! Sorry guys!

Thank you for reading this! Thank you to all those who favorite and follow this series! Please let me know what you think by leaving a review. Hope you enjoy this chapter! Also a big thank you to those who review! It lets me know that this story is being read and doing decently! Let me know what you think or let me know what you think will happen next. Anyways, enjoy! Again, a big thank you to those who leave me reviews! I adore you guys!

December 8, 1943

Ophelia jolted up from bed without any warning. Her eyes shot open as her hands flew to the center of her chest; violent coughs shook her petite frame; her heart beat felt slower than usual and her mind groggy. She also felt cold and warm at the same time.

Why am I in the infirmary? Confusion and panic slowly seared its way into the teen's body as her coughing became worse. The pace of her heart quickened.

"H-h-h-help!" Ophelia stuttered between coughs. "Mad-mad-madame!" There was a coppery tang in Ophelia's mouth.

"Hold on!" A witch commanded as she rushed towards Ophelia. The nurse pulled the privacy curtain to a full open as an enchanted cart trailed behind her; the skilled healer poured a red liquid from a violet vial into a chalice. Without a second to spare, Madame Thatch bought the chalice to the Hufflepuff's lip and made sure the younger female drank every last drop.

The violent coughing stopped but the general discomfort Ophelia experienced in every square inch of her body lingered. Air easily passed through her lungs despite a particularly sharp pain in her chest.

Madame Thatch, Hogwart's nurse, was relieved that the girl was finally awake. "Darwin, nice to see you've decided to wake up. For a moment there I was worried you'd been hit with a sickly curse."

The brunette's head began to pound as she tried dig herself into the infirmary bed. "I don't feel great," Ophelia muttered in a rather lethargic tone. She brought a hand up to her head and began to massage her scalp, her thoughts seemed terribly scattered on top of having sheer pain course through it.

Madame Thatch looked at the teen as if she was a toddler but kept she tried to keep a matter of factly tone as she spoke. "You have a terrible bout of pneumonia-most people who have that don't feel great."

Pneumonia?

"Pneumonia?" Ophelia questioned. "What? How did-?" She stopped for minute and replayed the words of Madame Thatch upon the initial start of their conversation. ...Nice to see you've decided to wake up… The brunette groaned and began to wrap herself tightly with the infirmary blanket. In a tone that was a raspy whisper, Ophelia let a few words slip from her little mouth. "What in the actual bloody hell?"

The older witch sighed; the poor dear must have not remembered a thing. "You had a high fever and you contracted pneumonia since Sunday, Miss Darwin. Your friends had to bring you in."

Sunday….Sunday….Sunday….Ophelia kept her eyes closed as warmth started to surround her body slowly. She remembered Sunday morning: I woke up, got dressed, and studied in the common room with Peter and William...Pipa brought Tom over….I was upset, I left. Ophelia felt her body relax as sleep crept on her.

Did she remember how Sunday afternoon was spent? I wanted to get away from Tom, so I went to Dumbledore's office and then I told him...I told him everything….After that, I sat in the Quidditch Pitch…

Blank.

"You said my friends brought me in, Madame Thatch." Ophelia said as she tried to stifle back a yawn. "Was it Zolotov, Elwood, and Blaine?" I probably passed out at the Quidditch Pitch and they had to come get me, Ophelia thought to herself. That's probably how I got sick.

"The Slytherin prefect was with them too, Darwin." Thatch added in plain tone. "Riddle carried you over actually. Blaine was in hysterics about having to admit you into the infirmary. Zolotov had to do it since Elwood had to calm little blonde beauty."

"Riddle carried me in?" The brunette nearly threw the blanket off her body but failed too as her words started to have a drowsy drawl. Or, Merlin...What if I was hit with a sickly curse!? The room around Ophelia was spinning slightly. "Why? Why was he carrying me?"

Madame Thatch started to wonder if the Hufflepuff in her care was always so curious about the most insignificant things. It could have very well been the teen's fever as well but either way, the nurse shrugged it off and humored the question. The teen was going to pass out soon. "He found you, apparently."

Their conversation stopped there. Sleep had gracefully captured the half-blooded witch. Madame Thatch smiled and she threw on another blanket over the sleeping witch before she went off to let Dumbledore know the child finally woke up.

Madame Thatch's smile faltered by a centimeter as she recalled another professor who wanted to be notified when Ophelia woke up. The nurse closed the privacy curtains around the passed out Hufflepuff; she decided that Madame Roseweed would be the last to know about Ophelia's being awake. Thatch didn't care-that witch wasn't going to 'purify' anything in the infirmary with 'sage'.

Tom Riddle had to swallow his irritation and anger as he found himself in the presence of the Transfiguration professor.

Albus Dumbledore was particularly wary of Tom the past few days. When the auburn haired wizard heard the a certain Hufflepuff was taken to the infirmary sometime Sunday, he hoped that Tom Riddle wasn't involved...However, given everything Ophelia Darwin had told Dumbledore-the possibility of Tom inflicting pain on the girl was high. High, yet without any solid proof.

Dumbledore kept his voice unperturbed as he acknowledged the boy. "So I've heard word that Miss Darwin is awake now."

A little skip beat went on in Tom's chest, but he made sure to not let his relief show on his face. "I appreciate you telling me that, Professor." Tom kept a polite tone and small smile on his face. "Though, I am sure Blaine and Elwood and Zolotov ought to be told of this before me. They're all so close."

"Be that as it may," Dumbledore went on. "I was told you were the one that found her."

"I did," Tom tried not to snap. "I found her, took her to her friends, and then to the infirmary. It would have been wrong of me to just leave Ophelia out in the cold."

Dumbledore decided to press on a bit more. "You don't think it odd that anyone would fall asleep at the cold Quidditch Pitch when there are warm beds in their dorm?"

"Miss Darwin is an odd one." Tom quickly replied. He couldn't think of a lie on the spot at the moment to push his statement further. All he could think of was Ophelia's body lying on the snow when he placed an Unforgivable curse on her. He tensed up. "If you'd like, Professor, I could notify Ophelia's friends for you."

The older wizard shook his head and began to walk away. "No need, I've already ask Edmund Campion to do that."

A flash of rage nearly overtook Tom's body. He tried his best not the glare at the professor as Dumbledore's figure retreated. It almost felt like Dumbledore purposely asked the Ravenclaw to do the task just to spite the Slytherin.

A scowl quickly grew on Tom's face, he was certain the meddlesome professor would do something like that on purpose.

Was he tense? Yes.

Tom Riddle had been tense since 'finding' Ophelia unconscious in the snow. It was like waking up from a bad dream only to find out there was no dream and it was all reality.

He never really practiced control around his-well-not his….Anyways, Tom never really practiced control around Ophelia. He never saw the point.

There was no need for his facade around her.

Stop it! Tom screamed in his head. You've gone over this so many times in your head! With a shaky inhale and exhale, Tom stalked off to his next class. His thoughts were not too far behind.

You've never had to have facade put up with her but you're far from honest with her...Do you have it in you to tell her every crime you've done?...You killed your own father, you know. Ophelia would probably want to go deaf now before she'd ever want you to confess all your deeds to her...Do you even have it in you to tell her you're an heir to Slytherin?

Tom sat down deathly quiet next Malfoy and Rosier in his next class, he blatantly ignored them as they greeted him.

An answer cracked in his head like a whip to the questions his mind thought up.

No-Tom didn't have it in him to be honest, not about those things. It's better that way anyhow, Tom told himself as he pretended to be attentive to the current lecture.

Even if guilt lingered in whatever portion of his soul he had left, there was no regret there. Tom decided if he must, he'd use 'Obliviate' over and over on Ophelia if it meant keeping her close and keeping her blind to the truth.

She could be the witch that lived….Tom thought with a cold grin.

Madame Thatch's loud voice caused Ophelia to wake up a second was a dull ache in her chest now instead of a sharp pain. The Hufflepuff didn't bother to sit up to see what was the matter instead she stayed huddled in bed with the blankets wrapped tightly around her body.

"Madame Thatch," An airy voice explained, "It is sage!"

Uh no, Ophelia inwardly groaned. Roseweed.

"I know what sage smells like, Roseweed." Madame Thatch stated. "That is not how sage should smell like."

"Okay, so maybe this is a sage bundle filled with additional herbs but a little weed never killed anyone!" Roseweed deadpanned with a playful smile as she waved the unlit bundle in the air.

A small voice cracked from behind a privacy curtain, Ophelia didn't sound too much like herself but you could tell it was her. "I don't think smoke is good for me right now. You know, with the pneumonia and all."

Happiness beamed on Roseweed's face. "Ah! She's awake."

"Roseweed," Madame Thatch warned lowly. "You are more than welcome to visit with Darwin but I suggest you throw that away or you will not step another foot in my infirmary."

Ophelia heard something being tossed into a trash bin before the privacy curtain that blocked her off from the world was violent pushed open by Roseweed. The Hufflepuff wondered what did she ever do to gain the unfortunate attention of the Herbology teacher.

"So!" Roseweed began with a chipper smile and sassy tone. "I heard you went on a date with the ladies man I warned you about."

Do you not have friends your age you can talk to, Professor? Ophelia sighed, "Yes."

"Well!" Roseweed scolded, "Details, child! Tell me!"

"Professor Roseweed," Ophelia said as she looked around for a clock, "Shouldn't you be teaching right now?"

Suddenly, Roseweed tensed and remembered that she was late in teaching a bunch of fourth years. The ditsy witch didn't even mutter a 'goodbye' or a 'get well soon' as she took off for the Herbology classroom.

"Honestly," Ophelia muttered. A whole future of witches and wizards are in the hands of hers to be taught Herbology. She shook her head and stared up at the ceiling.

Ophelia wondered who else was going to pop up and visit her.

Margo was not happy. No, not by any means. She watched with a glare as Peter and William got along a bit too well with Edmund Campion. They poked jokes at each other and rambled on some more about Quidditch and we were considering making plans to meet over Winter break even.

She reminded the two Hufflepuffs about Campion's completely untraditional upbringing, but did they care?! No! Margo flipped her long and blonde hair over her shoulder and clutched a white vase of yellow tulips close to her chest.

"So, Blaine." A smooth voice asked gently, "Why yellow tulips?" Edmund hoped Margo's silence and chilly attitude towards him was because he didn't initiate a conversation with her. He was aware the Blaine females (specifically Margo, Margo's mother, and Margo's mother's mother) was not fond of him or his family...Not that he could do much about it.

"If you must know, Campion," Margo started with a huff, "Pipa loves yellow daffodils-they are her favorite, but since they're in short supply during winter I settled for yellow tulips."

"Oh." Yep, Edmund was certain the blonde girl hated him as much as her mother hated his.

"You'll have to excuse Margo's behavior," Peter said as he shot a side glare towards the Blaine heiress. "She's a bit tense when it comes to these things."

William rolled his and leaned in to whisper to the Ravenclaw. "That's code for: Margo is a bitch a lot of the times."

"I am sure Ophelia will love the tulips, Blaine." Edmund commented calmly. There was no spite in his voice as he addressed Margo.

Margo, however was intentionally spiteful as her next array of words rolled off her tongue. "Obviously, they're from me-Pipa is going to love it."

"Margo," Peter hissed into the blonde beauty's ear. "Knock it off."

Edmund leaned over to William. "Is it true they're affianced to each other?" A mixture of pity and sympathy for Peter swelled in Edmund's body. "Best of luck for Elwood, eh?"

William gave his answered in a hushed tone, "We only think they're about to be engaged to each other. Trust me, I've felt sorry for Peter Elwood the minute he turned five and Margo became a frequent playmate of ours."

The young group of wizards and a witch entered the infirmary, and quickly descended upon Ophelia. Madame Thatch only asked that their visit be calm and pleasant as to not stress the recovering Hufflepuff.

"Pipa!" William was the first to swoop Ophelia in for a hug, "Nice to see you back from the land of the dead! You don't look like complete shit, surprisingly."

Ophelia smiled and pulled away as their hug ended, "Ah, you always know how to make a girl feel special, don't you William?"

Peter was next to hug his friend. "Did you hear that, Campion? Looks like WIlliam is giving you a run for your money."

Campion? He's here? Ophelia's heart fluttered as her eyes soon locked in with Edmund's.

"Hey!" Ophelia croaked out. "Nice to see you again."

Edmund smiled and walked closer to the bed, "How are you-."

He never got to finish his sentence.

"Pipa!" Margo's shrill voice excitedly cut into the air and subsequently cut Campion off from finishing his statement. "Look! I got you these." Margo placed the tulips on the medium sized nightstand next the infirmary bed right before she took a seat on the bed close to Ophelia. "How are you feeling?"

Under normal circumstances, Ophelia wouldn't have minded but she found Margo's happy attitude with a large portion of rudeness towards Edmund infuriating. She casually ignored Margo and turned her attention back to the Ravenclaw. The witch with jaded green eyes smile soft at Edmund. "Sorry, Campion, what were you going say?"

Oh, shit. William thought as he let an amused expression come over his face.

Oh, sweet Merlin, please no. Peter groaned in his head.

Edmund shifted his eyes from Ophelia to Margo, but he decided to reply to Ophelia rather than stay quiet as Margo quietly killed him with her eyes. "I was going to ask how are you feeling?"

"I...asked you that...first…" Margo said quietly.

Ophelia ignored Margo. "I am feeling okay, not too great."

Peter shook his head at Ophelia. "Well you're sick, you're not supposed to feel great. Anyways, when are you allowed to leave the infirmary?"

"I haven't been told yet, Peter." The brunette replied, "Soon I guess-maybe."

"I have notes on the lectures you've missed for Transfiguration this week," Edmund added in. "You're welcomed to borrow them."

Ophelia smiled, "Thank you, I'd like-."

"No, thanks," Margo snapped at the Ravenclaw. "That is very sweet of you but I am sure Riddle already has notes to share with her." She turned her bright blue eyes over to her friend, "Right, Pipa?"

"Margo, you don't need to be a bitch to the man." William looked over to both Peter and Edmund. "Sorry." Peter got a 'sorry' because William knew Peter probably didn't want the girl he loved to be called a bitch (even if she was acting like it). Edmund got a 'sorry' because William knew damn well that the Ravenclaw didn't do jack shit to get on Margo's shit list.

Peter tensed when he felt Margo's eyes look over to him, he knew she was hoping he'd say something to Zolotov but Peter refused. Margo honestly was being foul to the poor Ravenclaw.

Why are you acting so terribly right now, Margo?! Ophelia looked at Margo, a visible frown was present on her face as well as a dirty look directed at the blonde witch. She turned her attention back to Edmund; it was easy to tell the boy was wildly uncomfortable with Margo's aggressiveness towards him.

"No." Ophelia shook her head. "I would very much like to use your notes, Campion. I-uh-I actually wouldn't mind making a study date out of it, if you're up for it?"

A coy smile broke out onto the handsome Ravenclaw's face. "Oh? Is that right or are you only saying that?"

Ophelia only shrugged at the Ravenclaw and gave him a toothy grin.

Peter decided to crack a joke to help in getting the tension farther out of the room, "Should we leave so you two can flirt shamelessly without our company? Because I'm more than happy to do that."

William let out a good hearted laugh, he couldn't think of anything else to add or say as a joke.

Margo's frown settled deeper into her facial features; okay, so Ophelia was angry with her. Still, she could still try one more thing to push Campion of her friend's mind and put a more suitable love interest in there instead. "A real gentleman wouldn't be a shameless flirt with a lady in the company of her friends while she is sick, Campion. I know you're a bastard, but at least try to act like an upper class one."

Everyone became stiff at the severe harshness of Margo's words.

William narrowed his eyes at Margo.

Edmund felt a familiar sting in his emotions.

Ophelia experienced a mixture of irritation and disgust towards Margo.

Peter was absolutely livid about Margo's conduct. He understood Margo didn't like Edmund Campion but she was old enough and smart enough to not react on it. If he remembered correct, Margo was the one who was taught to act like a lady. Instead, she decided to act like a spoiled child who had to share her favorite toy.

Margo smiled and beamed at Ophelia, "By the way, I think we should details about my engagement party coming up-."

"Margo, stop talking." Peter boomed out before anyone else could.

Confusion played on the pure-blooded witch's face. "No, I need to talk about-."

Peter cut her off as an angry scowl came to his face. "No! Margo, you're being an absolute bitch to Campion right now and you aren't even letting Ophelia properly communicate with him. We're leaving."

"No, Elwood," The handsome Ravenclaw interrupted, "I'll go. I know when I am not wanted-."

Margo scoffed, "Took you long enough."

"NO." Ophelia spoke up finally, "Stay, please. Campion, I'd like you to visit a bit longer." She snapped her gaze to Margo, "I agree with Peter, if you're not going to be nice to Campion I would prefer you to leave."

Margo's heart nearly broke into little pieces and tears threaten to pour down her face. The pretty witch stiffened her lower lip and tried to put on a brave face, "Fine...If that is what you want."

"It is." Ophelia stated smoothly, "I'll talk to you later when you're not acting like...that."

Margo sighed as she stood up from the bed and walked towards Peter; he instantly grabbed Margo firmly by the hand and without a goodbye they exited the room.

William sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Pipa. I'm sorry, Campion. Both of you shouldn't have to deal with that."

"Thanks,William."Ophelia looked at where Peter once stood. "Good luck Peter and Margo...I'm sure they care and even love each other very much, but who knows if they can handle marriage to one another."

Edmund gave his input. "I think Elwood would do everything to make it work, but I don't see Blaine doing as much for him."

William agreed wholeheartedly. "I better go and play mediator for the two lovers. Feel better, Pipa." He smiled at the half-blooded witch before he turned his attention to the pure-blooded wizard. "I'll leave her in your care." William gave Edmund a wink (our and away from Ophelia's sight) before he disappeared.

Ophelia smiled at Edmund and gestured to the edge of her bed, "You can come closer, if you'd like."

Edmund didn't even hesitate and he brave sat right next to the witch instead of at the edge of the bed. "Is this fine?" He put a hand over hers.

The brunette replied, "Perfect, actually." Ophelia still felt terrible at how Margo treated him, another apology was about to be pulled out of her mouth but she was stopped.

"Margo told me you liked yellow daffodils," Edmund stated offhandedly as he used his free hand to grab two tulips from the white vase. While, yes, Margo was unpleasant to him the whole-Edmund didn't want to feel or be the reason Ophelia and the Blaine girl never spoke again. "In fact, I believe she told me they were your favorite."

She did?

"Did she really?" Ophelia asked carefully as she watched Edmund held the tulips out in front of her.

Edmund nodded. He removed his hand away from Ophelia's to draw out his wand from the pocket of his robe. "Let me show you something." With ease, a precise flick of his wand and a few French sounding words, Edmund turned the two yellow tulips into two yellow daffodils. "Deux jolies fleurs pour une belle dame." ("Two pretty flowers for one beautiful lady.")

Ophelia blushed, "I don't speak French, Campion but thank you." She reached out to take the daffodils from him, but instead their fingers ended up being intertwined with one another.

Without even thinking, Edmund leaned in closer to Ophelia's face. The teen automatically closed her eyes and found herself leaning in closer to Edmund. She felt a hand inch up her arm but stopped at her elbow. The wonderful scent of cinnamon graced Edmund's senses.

Their lips were mere centimeters away.

"CAMPION! DARWIN!" Madame Thatch scolded, "There will be none of that in my infirmary!"

They immediately pulled away from each other; the two daffodils laid somewhere on the surface of the bed.

"I should go."Edmund quickly shot up from his spot next to the girl he almost kissed. "I am sure there is a Slug Club meeting or something."

"Right." Ophelia forced herself to look at Madame Thatch, "I probably have to take some medicine around this time, huh?"

Madame Thatch rolled her eyes and went to fetch a particular violet vial, though only after she made sure the Ravenclaw was gone from the Hufflepuff's company.

Sleep once again captured the Hufflepuff. A small smile on her face as she fell asleep.

Ophelia was asleep clear until the oddest hours of the night, she felt an unusual pressure on her chest. She opened her eyes and nearly flinched away from who hovered above her.

Nearly flinched-she wasn't too sure how he'd react if she did.

"Ophelia." Tom greeted with a velvety monotone. He lowered his lips down to the girl's forehead and placed a kiss there. His hand still stayed on the center of her chest.

Ophelia's body went frigid upon hearing his voice; a small jolt of fear ran through her. She did she best to dismiss it. "Tom."

"You sound like a toad," Tom commented as he suddenly removed his hand off of the girl's chest, he soon placed a bouquet of purple hyacinths on top of Ophelia. "Here." Tom's velvety tone took on a more brash volume.

Ophelia didn't feel the need to thank the handsome, dark haired teen.

Tom decided to carry on a conversation. "Do you know what purple hyacinths stand for?" He went ahead and laid down next to Ophelia; he noticed how she tensed slightly against him. Tom draped a possessive arm over her shoulders and pulled Ophelia in closer to him.

"N-no." Ophelia said as a small cough raked through her body. "I can't say I do." The brunette was happy at the sight of Tom giving her flowers, but she didn't quite understand why under her general happiness at the sight of the purple flowers-she also felt immense sadness and pain. Another set of coughs shook through her.

"Shame." Tom scoffed as carefully rubbed Ophelia's back. "I guess you never will then."

"I am not in healthy form to play your mind games, Tom." Ophelia cleared her throat and looked away from the Slytherin.

The brown eyed boy only let a cold smirk play on his face but didn't comment on Ophelia's statement. "I should leave." He pulled away in an instant from the brunette, though not before he commented on the two daffodils placed in a careful line next to each other. "The vase of tulips are in good taste, those daffodils are incredibly tacky though." The heir of Slytherin scooped up the two daffodils and crumpled them before he tossed them in a bin.

Tom then grabbed the hyacinths from Ophelia and placed them carefully on the night stand where the daffodils once were.

"Tom!" Ophelia's voice was weak and nearly muted, which made it all the easier for him to ignore the hurt in her voice.

"Goodnight, Ophelia." Tom wrapped his cold hands around the brunette's neck and drew her face closer to his. Much like the day he used the 'Cruciatus' curse on her, he placed an unbelievable sweet kiss on her lips. "Feel better."

Ophelia pulled out of Tom's grasp, she made no comment as the Slytherin walked away from her.

BONUS DETAILS:

Yellow tulips stand for cheerful thoughts and sunshine.

Yellow daffodils stand for Spring but it can also stand for new beginnings.

Purple hyacinths stand for forgiveness or state something along the lines of 'Please forgive me'.