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 original characters you may notice as you read this chapter.
I do not have a beta to help with any errors in this chapter, or any of the other chapters you may read from this installment. Thank you for reading this, and let me know what you think.
September 22, 1943
Tom Riddle had left Hogwarts the previous year irritated enough as it was when a certain Hufflepuff with brown hair, green eyes, and hardly any retention of their routine, apparently left a week before him for summer. Add the fact that the sixth year for both him and her started two weeks ago and there still had been no sign of that specific 'her'- Tom wondered and at this point hoped Ophelia was dead in a ditch somewhere.
"My lord," Nott whispered carefully to the leader of their group, he tried to be as quiet as his rough voice could allow without being scolded by the librarian. "When will the next meeting be held? I might have found new followers who seem interested in your cause."
Usually this would have been wonderful news to the terror of a young man...but usually, this young man wasn't trying to catch up on the mundane work of the history of magic. "Nott," Tom Riddle whispered dangerously to the pure-blooded idiot, "who gave you permission to find new followers at the moment because I am sure I didn't."
Graham Nott turned pale as a violent red tinted his lord's eyes. "No," he muttered, you didn't give me any-."
"Exactly, Nott." Tom hissed back, "sit down and be quiet, or I will make it so you are quiet for the rest of your life."
Nott paled at those very words, and not once after that did he even breathe loudly in his lord's presence.
A small part Tom would rather die in every way possible before he would ever admit how Ophelia was actually a small bit helpful. When her grandfather's books finally stopped being of use to him (and her, but he couldn't care less about that)-her notes were almost better than his. The cruel sixth year figured it had to do with how dense she was, and that is why she took extremely detailed notes on everything and anything.
It was Ophelia Darwin's fault he was in the library reading a section of the history of magic instead of putting his brains to something more important like the dark arts...She broke their routine and triggered a feeling the boy could only describe as unsettling and unbelievably aggravating.
"Damn filthy witch," Tom muttered as he snapped his book shut and headed towards the Slytherin common rooms. He was done with dull history book and the wizards of old that crowded it from front to back. They would be nothing compared to him...If he could only shove studies away long enough to get what he wanted accomplished!
On the opposite side of Hogwarts, Ophelia Darwin smiled at the grand castle. Her uniform and robes ironed, her wand lounged somewhere in the pockets of her robes, her mousy brown hair: flat and straight as ever was styled with a pale grey hair band, and on her feet a new pair of one inch heeled loafers which shade reminded her of daffodils (her mother's last minute gift for the new term). A folder was tightly held against her chest as she ventured to Dumbledore's office.
I'll have to meet up with Margo and Peter shortly after, Ophelia reminded herself as knocked on the professor's door.
"Miss Darwin," the wizard greeted warmly as he allowed her into his office. "Nice to see you are back."
"Nice to be back," Ophelia replied without missing a beat and promptly placed the folder on his desk. "I believe these are the assignments I had to complete during the two weeks I was absent."
Her smile faded away a little and the older gentleman noticed.
He reached for a glass bowl that sat pristinely on his desk, "would you care for some lemon sherbert?"
The Hufflepuff sixth year politely declined, "I haven't even had dinner first, Professor. Maybe next time?"
"Very well," Dumbledore hummed on. "I take it the move and everything went well?"
Ophelia nodded, the transfigurations professor gave her a small smile but said nothing.
"Thank you," she said evenly, "for getting the other professors and Dippet to get on board to let me work from home for a while."
A little twinkle flickered in the man's eyes. "Well," he started off, "it would have been a shame for you to come back and struggle in your classes, Miss Darwin."
Ophelia stated one more sentence of appreciation for Dumbledore and made her way to the dining hall.
Margo was the first one to spot Ophelia and in a totally proper way to let Peter know their friend was back: Margo gave out a scream that could have made a Mandrake pass out. Margo's scream caught the attention of the Slytherin table; a blonde Abraxas Malfoy looked over to see what the commotion was all about. He quickly leapt up from the table (somehow he managed to look refined while doing that) and marched to the Slytherin common rooms.
"Oh, Merlin," Ophelia winced as both Margo and Peter pulled her into a bone crushing hug. "Margo, could you possibly be part banshee?"
"Shut up and love me, you daft girl," was all Margo said in reply.
"Oh, Pipa," Peter faked a cry as he hugged both girls tighter. "You have no idea how hard it's been...being stuck with Margo all summer and the first few weeks of the term."
Ophelia giggled as they pulled away and settled down at the table for dinner. She promptly filled them in on how the move from London to West Berkshire went.
Margo put a dainty hand over Ophelia's and patted it softly, "I am just so relieved you and your family were safe."
Peter only nodded, Ophelia was his friend just as much as she was Margo but he knew his childhood friend would have gone completely off her rocker if Ophelia never came back to them. He wouldn't have been able to help Margo had she sunk that low.
The brunette sighed, "I am lucky Poppa was able to use such a strong shield charm." A quick flash of what Ophelia had experienced in her mind replayed itself. "I really must thank my lucky stars, if I still have any left."
"Speaking of stars, Pipa," Peter murmured as best as he could as his eyes drifted to the doors of the dining hall. "Looks like one is coming directly towards you."
What? Ophelia turned her head to the doors; while Margo stood up from her spot at the table completely to see what was heading their way. Ophelia's eyes widened up at the sight.
"Miss Darwin," the young Slytherin greeted, "how nice to see you again."
Ophelia felt little pricks at the bottom of her stomach and her palms began to feel all clammy, "Riddle."
"You missed our traditional train ride to Hogwarts, Darwin," Tom stated as evenly as he could. He knew that the Hufflepuff he directed his voice to could feel the deeply rooted irritation that burned in him as he looked at her. "I was so hurt," Tom Riddle paused for effect and did his best to pull of a genuinely worried face, "I thought something had happened to you."
"Oh how sweet," Margo whispered to herself before casting a dirty look at Peter, who only became shocked at the sudden dirty look the blonde pure-blooded girl had given him.
Ophelia ignored Margo and Peter altogether as she tried not to let Tom sense her heart violently beat against her chest. "Nope," Ophelia stated, not bothering to sound as charming as he did. "I am fine and in one piece as you can see." Her voice quivered as Tom's gaze on her intensified, "Thanks for the concern."
The thought that Tom only pretended to be concerned about anyone but himself is extremely unsettling...Imagine if he even could care about someone else? Ophelia felt chills along her body just at that thought.
As if he was reading her mind; the ugly and arrogant smirk Ophelia knew so well painted itself on the pale teen's handsome face. "I really was so worried about you."
Ophelia felt a snooty reply bubble in her head before she expressed it out loud, "I'll write a letter next time-that way you won't be so worried." She flashed him a fake smile, "Would that be to your liking Mr. Riddle."
"No."
Margo gasped, Ophelia blinked rapidly at the reply, and Peter who lost interest a few seconds ago continued to eat.
In one swift movement, Tom reached for one of Ophelia's hand and squeezed it as tightly as he could while trying to be cool and charming to any other Hogwart student who watched them. "What would be to my liking, Miss Darwin, is if you graced me with a few minutes of your time."
In one fluid motion the Slytherin prefect drew Ophelia's hand farther out and managed to drag her away from her friends, out of the dining hall, and to the closest secluded corner he could find. Ophelia didn't have the courage or time to protest against Tom-and what would have been the point-he'd easily invalidate anything she'd say.
"Where have you been," Tom asked in a low growl as he pushed her hand away from him as quickly as he could. He didn't want to make himself anymore of a spectacle than he had to and there was no one he had to keep his polite and perfect charade with. Since their first year, when they'd met, Tom realized that it was no use to redo a first impression for Ophelia.
Ophelia carefully examined the hand Tom had gripped so terribly tight; she prayed no bruise would show up. "I had…" Ophelia looked him in the eyes, "My family and I had to move from London at the last minute."
Tom narrowed his eyes, "Why?" The teenage boy considered using Legilimency if she took any longer to speak.
Ophelia absentmindedly started to twirl her hair in between her fingers, it was an attempt not to get too deep into the memory. "A bomb dropped near our home in London," The Hufflepuff's voice was shaky and chills ran up and down her spine, "Poppa used three different shield charms to prevent as much damage as he could… We were all fine but the house didn't quite hold up even with his magic." A tired sigh then escaped her lips as she recalled the tedious task of moving and rearranging everything in the new house in West Berkshire(her father deemed it absolutely necessary that they left London), "I just had a lot to help with before I came back."
The boy, who expected a much more swallow answer from the girl only gave a condescending glare before he opened his mouth. "Here I hoped you were off dead in a ditch somewhere."
Ophelia never did expect anytime of sympathy or real kindness from Tom, but those words caused a dull ache throughout her whole being. "Unfortunately," she muttered as they made strong eye contact, "against your hopes, I live."
A small wave of familiarity crashed on Tom Riddle and he allowed himself to flash a smile at his fellow student, whom of which he enjoyed exercising her like a lowly secretary or resource to be used repeatedly.
"How far along are you in the history of magic, Darwin?" His voice was a perfect mixture of arrogant and smooth; the Slytherin prefect already knew how the Hufflepuff student would react and he found it...amusing. It had been the same since he latched onto her their second year of Hogwarts when he deemed Ophelia suitable enough as a source of some intellect.
He watched as Ophelia tucked a small strand of hair behind her right ear and let a small, defeated sigh out of her mouth. "How may I help you today?"