First things first: SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE! I had a friend visit me the past few weeks and I got caught up with that, I forgot to work on this chapter. I will also apologize in advance because I will going to this following weekend to visit this friend again so the next chapter might be delayed! SORRY GUYS!
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 so it might have a bunch of errors. Let me know and I will fix it as soon as I can.
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November 29, 1943
Edmund Campion was a smart young man. Reserved when he needed to be, forward when he wanted to be. The Ravenclaw was similar to the majority of students of Hogwarts in this particular time period: he was a pure-blood. Not that it really mattered, no high standing pure-blooded witch or wizard would want to associated with the offspring of a woman who did things her way instead of the 'old fashioned' way.
Edmund was sure the reason Slughorn wanted him in his 'Slug Club' was the controversies that constantly surrounded his mother-it provided good gossip (not that him being in the Slug Club meant anything to him, really.) Edmund even flunked multiple potion quizzes at different times to see if Slughorn was interested due to Edmund's strong academic portfolio. (The answer was no, by the way.)
The blonde haired boy leaned farther into his chair as he waited for someone to finish up the impromptu essay for Transfiguration before the class period was over. There was only five more minutes to spare. From the corner of his eyes, he caught the Hufflepuff's quill violent movements as she jotted down everything important for properly transfigurating a tree to a wooden boat.
"Time is up, please turn in your essays and head on out." Dumbledore's voice gently reverberated through the nearly empty classroom. His kind eyes zeroed in on the young lady in the room. "Miss Darwin, I am sure you aren't going to fail so please, turn it in."
Darwin. Edmund Campion felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach. All he knew was her last name, for the past few days Edmund hoped something, even a hint of the first letter of her first name would leap out to him.
The Ravenclaw heard the sound of her light footsteps as the Hufflepuff ascended to Professor Dumbledore's desk. He immediately jolted up from his desk and went to go turn in his essay prompt as well.
It was his turn for Dumbledore to tease slightly. "Didn't want her to feel the pressure of being the last student in the room, I suspect?"
Edmund watched as the brunette turned and looked at him over her shoulder as she handed her essay away. Her green eyes seemed calm and quiet as she acknowledged his presence.
"Well to be so honest, Professor, I wasn't in the mood to hurry off to Alchemy." Edmund stood with a naturally prefect posture as he found himself in front of Dumbledore and next to the Hufflepuff.
The pleasant smell of cinnamon graced his senses. "How about you, Darwin?" Edmund looked at the skinny teen as he spoke to her. "Not in a rush to get to your next class either?"
The Ravenclaw watched as a short lived expression of shock came to her face; Edmund found it adorable. A part of the Hufflepuff girl wanted to believe the Ravenclaw boy would never speak to her again.
"I have Herbology next." She made a face, "I should be doing fairly well in that class now even if I don't care for it, but I genuinely wanted to be thorough for this essay."
Dumbledore smiled at the students. Campion and Darwin, he thought, a safer pair than Darwin and Riddle. "And," the older man started off, "were you thorough?"
A shy smile played on the Hufflepuff's lips. "I'd like to think so, Professor."
" I am sure you were then," Dumbledore stated and gestured towards to door of the classroom. "Off you two pop, no need to delay yourselves from other studies."
"Have a good day, Professor." The Hufflepuff chimed politely before she exited the class.
Edmund stood still for a brief minute. He didn't want to scare the poor brunette off by following directly after her; he didn't want the girl to think he was stalker.
Dumbledore noticed the boy's behavior as one would notice a black cat. When the student stayed a few seconds longer, the professor decided to push the boy out with his words. "Well," The older man practically scoffed, "Go on."
"Professor." Was all the Ravenclaw said with a curt nod before he left.
Edmund easily caught up with Darwin's pace as he noted she was indeed headed to the Herbology greenhouse.
Be gentlemanly, and polite, Edmund reminded himself as he approached the Hufflepuff.
He easily fell perfectly in sync with the girl's pace. "I found out your last name by the way." He paused for dramatic effect. "Miss Darwin."
A sound that was neither a chuckle nor scoff escaped the brunette's made the impression of snort on the boy's ears.
"Oh, so you'd rather poke around for my name is rather than ask me for it?"
Edmund shrugged and continued to follow the girl to Herbology. "Well, are you going to ask me for my name?" He placed a hand on the greenhouse's door knob and twisted it open for the Hufflepuff. "Or does 'Mister Ravenclaw Bartender' seem like a perfect match for my face."
Then there it was...a toothy smile that revealed the tiniest of dimples on the corners of her lips. Edmund couldn't help but feel a strange flutter in his stomach once more.
"Actually," The Hufflepuff went and stood in the doorway as she spoke to the Ravenclaw. "If I had to guess, to me you like you could be a 'Grant', 'Roman', 'Lukas', or even a 'Sebastian'."
Edmund knew he had an unamused expression on his face at the mention of the last name. "Ugh," He commented with a frown. "Sebastian, really?"
"Really." The Hufflepuff replied, her smile still in place, she began to venture into the greenhouse but the voice of the Ravenclaw male made her freeze in her steps.
"Well, I hate to let you down but that isn't my name. Edmund wondered if he should give the girl at least his last name. Anything but Mister Bartender...I suppose.
"Oh!"
Edmund nearly jumped at the change of volume of the girl's voice: it went for soft and relaxed to urgent and loud in a blink.
Without much thought, the Hufflepuff placed a hand over the his, which still held the greenhouse door open for her.
Edmund noticed her hands were slightly cold and clammy but he decided he could ignore it. "Yes?"
"My name is Ophelia." The brunette's toothy smile turned into that of a small, coy, smirk. "Ophelia Darwin."
Edmund let a composed and small grin turn the corners of his lips of slightly. "I'm Edmund." He stated the rest of his name evenly. "Edmund Campion."
"MISS DARWIN GET IN!" The loud voice of Professor Roseweed echoed loudly past the classroom and out into the halls. "MISTER CAMPION CLOSE THE DAMN DOOR! YOU'RE LETTING THE COLD AIR IN, FOR MERLIN'S SAKE. CLOSE THE DOOR!"
I absolutely hate you, you foul woman. Ophelia directed that thought at the inconsistent Herbology teacher as she waved a small goodbye to Edmund Campion, who immediately swung the door shut.
"Miss Darwin," Professor Roseweed's voice was back to its usual tone and volume as she did her best calmly approach her student. For a brief moment, the Herbology teacher actually looked professional.
"Professor Roseweed?" Ophelia wasn't too sure what the scattered woman was going to do.
Professor Roseweed was only four inches taller than Ophelia, but the older woman still thought it necessary to lean in and whisper to the younger female. "Edmund Campion! Let me tell you, I have heard some things about that red blooded male!" Professor Roseweed pulled away and gave Ophelia a small wink before she jolted off to teach her random plant of the day.
...You really are a foul woman… Ophelia looked at the professor with of horror and slight mortification-why the hell, would a PROFESSOR encourage gossip with a student about another student?
As Ophelia wrote down note after note during Herbology, she did wonder what things were said about the Ravenclaw boy. At the top left corner of her little notebook, she made a small reminder to herself.
'Talk to Margo about E.C'
The brunette fixed her eyes back to Professor Roseweed, the older woman babbled on. Ophelia naturally went back to focusing on her studies. A small part of her felt that maybe she should have made a smaller reminded...One that went along the lines of: 'Keep away from T.M.R as well'.
Ophelia Darwin didn't write that anywhere on her notes.
Margo Blaine loved all forms Divination, Ophelia more or less tolerated the subject. Honestly, how could a person believe they could see the future-much less predict it? Nothing, especially the future could be set in stone just because a cup during afternoon tea showed a picture?
Right now, the two young ladies sat comfortably in the Divination classroom as they ate their lunch in private. (Peter and William didn't quite enjoy boy oriented topics during lunch and would do everything in their power to stir the conversation away from that particular subject.)
Ophelia had caught Margo up from the events of the Ravenclaw party to her recent encounter with the blonde boy; she made sure that all parts that included a stuck up Slytherin was not put into the conversation.
"Campion?" Margo tried her best to not let even the tiniest bit of disappointment show on her face after Ophelia told her their few interactions. The pure-blooded witch knew in a heartbeat exactly who her best friend was talking about. "You think you fancy him?" Again-Margo was trying her best to hide her disappointment.
"No." Ophelia shook her head. "I just want to know more about him."
A prudish tone laced Margo's words as she replied back, "Well why do you want to know more about him if you don't fancy him?"
"MARGO!" Ophelia whined. "Please?" Maybe the half-blood witch did fancy the Ravenclaw boy, maybe she didn't. Margo could at least throw her a bone as far as rumours and whatever else surround the Campion boy.
The blonde girl eyed her friend. As spoilt as Margo was, for how stubborn and prissy she knew she could be-Margo wouldn't withhold anything from her favorite half-blood. Margo sighed, "You might not like what I am about to say, Pipa."
Ophelia shrugged, "Could be worse than the time I told you I saw Peter talking Renee Bell?"
"Ew!" Margo put a perfectly manicured hand over her chest as she remembered the specific event Ophelia mentioned. "No! Nothing could be worse than that!"
"Then how bad could the things about Edmund Campion be?" Ophelia gave her friend a small smile. "Please tell me what you know? Don't pure-bloods kind of know each other?"
"Do all half-bloods and do all muggles know each other?" Margo quipped back. Margo hated that Ophelia assumed such a thing!...Although it was rather true.
"In my defense," Ophelia stated evenly, "it really does seem all pure-bloods know something about all the other pure-bloods."
"Fine." Margo sighed as she finally threw up her hands as a sign of giving into her friend. "Edmund Campion is a pure-blood, comes from a long line of them too."
Silence settled for a brief instant.
Ophelia gently poked the blonde witch's cheek. "And?"
Margo sighed and pouted-she should have known Ophelia was going to want to know more than that! "His mother is Adelina Campion, ever heard that name before?"
Confusion broke on the brunette's face. "No...Should I have?"
"You are so fashion illiterate with the wizarding world," Margo commented. "Adelina Campion is the best in the fashion industry at the moment: ballroom gowns, wedding dresses, jewelry, shoes, men's clothing?" Margo went on. "Anyone who is anyone important wears her brand."
"Okay…" Ophelia was uncertain why Margo thought there would be something in this that would her upset. "Well, so far you made Campion seem fine and normal, Margo."
"No pure-blood wants to be directly linked with her." At least that was Margo's mom and grandma had told always repeated.
"Why's that?"
Margo took in a deep breath, "She is a harlot, Pipa. Her son is a bastard. Adelina was young when she started to mess around with men older than her and wealthier than her. She got knocked up by a married man, you know-."
"Wait." Ophelia wasn't sure she heard right. "What?"
"Yes!" Margo said. "Anyways, back to what I was saying: Adelina Campion got knocked up by a rich, married man and he even gave her a way out too. To have the baby and let him and his wife adopt it so they could pass it off as theirs, but Adelina Campion refused, kept the baby, didn't ask to marry and used her own money to invest in what she wanted." Margo shook her head as she tried to remember other things about the fashionista. "She created an empire all her own, and trust me, old timey pure-bloods do not like how she became successful...much less how she had a healthy bastard."
Inbreeding among family members sometimes resulted in less than healthy and possibly, less than stable children. So how dare Adelina Campion sleep around and have a perfect child!
Ophelia never knew Margo could have been so harsh and judgemental to someone who had the same blood-status as her-but Ophelia kept that in her mind and out of the conversation. "That's very detailed and all but can you tell me something about him? Edmund?"
"He plays Quidditch," Margo rolled her eyes. "I guess, he isn't terribly ugly for a bastard."
Ophelia tried to not sound so boy crazy. "Campion isn't ugly at all." She did sound boy crazy.
"Whatever." Margo said, this time she allowed a hint of disapproval to come out with her words. "Many say he's quite the ladies man. Florence Carver and Winnie Dove had their hearts broken into bits by him."
Florence Carver was a Gryffindor a year younger than them while Winnie Dove was a fellow sixth year Hufflepuff. Both were exceptionally pretty and high maintenance, with plump breasts and long legs that could have stopped traffic. A twinge of uncertainty caught Ophelia rather off guard. She wasn't looking for someone to break her heart at the moment.
"Anyways," Margo tried to shift the topic when a sad little expression in her friend's eyes. "Why do you care about Campion when there is Riddle?"
Ophelia wished she could have told Margo how terrible Tom Riddle actually was but for the sake reason-Ophelia never did. Besides...it's not like anyone would believe her. "Riddle and I are acquaintances." Ophelia repeated this lie easily as if it was as natural as breathing air. "Nothing would ever happen between us."
Margo whined. "Oh, but think how sweet you two would be together!"
The times we were together have been anything but sweet. Ophelia decided to change the topic. "I think you and Peter would be sweet together."
Margo Blaine blushed as a coy smirk washed over her features. "Yes. Now if only he'd pull his head out of his arse to see it too."
The two girls spoke on about Peter Elwood and how he was undoubtedly an idiot for the remainder of their lunch break...Just as Professor Roseweed chatted to Professor Slughorn about the possible romance between a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw.
"Tom, my good lad!" Horace Slughorn greeted his favorite student warmly before the class started.
"Professor Slughorn!" Tom smiled his perfect, white smile and mimicked his best impression of genuinely sound boy. "Are you going to give us any tricky potions today?"
The scholarly old man smiled, "I shall try to throw something challenging your way, though there is something I feel the need to bring to your attention."
Please do not be a reminder about the next Slug Club gathering. Tom had it memorized in his head by now, unfortunately. Tom Riddle shifted his expression to that of false concern. "Is it serious, Professor?"
Slughorn was hesitant for a brief moment, while he was certain Tom was merely friends with a certain student, there was still a small fraction of the older man that was slightly unsure. "I don't think so, but I heard something interesting about a friend of yours."
Gossip...Tom thought to himself. I should have known this is what he'd bring up. The heir of Slytherin sighed, maybe his followers had gone off and done something glaring stupid. "A friend of mine?" He knew he had to beat around the bush for a while. "Lestrange? Nott? Rosier? Malfoy-?"
"Miss Darwin, actually." Professor Slughorn replied.
Tom tensed up. The filthy witch only popped up once in conversation between Slughorn and him. The potions professor wanted to know if Tom thought Ophelia was worthy of being in the Slug Club-Tom promptly answered no to the question.
Not to mention the fact that, the aching feeling in Tom's chest came back every so often since he'd last seen her. It was slowly putting him in an irritable mood because Tom was certain he just wanted a good lay out of the Hufflepuff...which yes, a part of him did but it never filled him up.
Instead it oddly left him feeling empty...Something he didn't quite understand, much less liked.
The young boy cleared his throat. "Ophelia?"
"Yes." Professor Slughorn nodded his head. "Professor Roseweed and I were talking you see-."
Ah, that empty headed creature.
"She mentioned that Miss Darwin was escorted to class by Mister Campion." Slughorn interjected a small detail about the Ravenclaw boy. "Smart boy, unusual upbringing. Anyways, Roseweed implied that the two might be an item soon."
Tom's fist clenched behind his back, "Really?" The Slytherin prefect kept his emotions under check as he easily flowed with the conversation. "Funny. Ophelia never mentioned Mister Campion to me before." He forced with gritted teeth another smooth comment. "I do hope Ophelia and I can still remain close if they do become an item."
The handsome young man phrased it as if he was going to give the Hufflepuff a choice.
With Slughorn under the impression Tom didn't see Miss Darwin in a romantic sense, a laugh escaped out into the world. "I do hope so too, but I wouldn't get my hopes up."
The calm and polite facade Tom had nearly crumbled as confusion tried to drown him. What was that supposed to mean? Was it a code? Was it a suggestion?
"Tom," Slughorn eventually added on when he was finally done laughing. "Young girls live for relationships and romance. Not to be too bold but, as soon as Miss Darwin and Mister Campion become a thing-if they do-she'll want to spend as much time with him. Love will be the only thing on her mind."
"Love?" Tom didn't enjoy the sound of that word as it rolled of his mouth with the punctuation of a question. Though maybe he didn't like the word associated with Ophelia and some random guy.
"Yes, love." Slughorn smiled as he remembered his own romantic encounters as a young man until he realized in a couple of minutes he would have a class to teach. "Anyways, I just wanted to run that by you to prepare you to see less of Miss Darwin." Slughorn began to waltz off to get everything needed for the day's lesson from the supply closet in the classroom. "I've heard from Dumbledore you two are quite close."
Oh look, another mention of something Tom disliked strongly. The Slytherin said nothing as the aching feeling in his chest morphed into a hollow and angry sensation that all of his body felt.
Peter and William were not too sure why they'd allow themselves to talk about Ophelia to Edmund Campion, but to be honest the conversation took an unexpected turn. It went from talking about winter plans with their respective families, career choices they'd look at in the near future, to Quidditch (which all three boys played), then Edmund finally transitioned to what he wanted. "That Hufflepuff with the brown hair who watches you guys practice and go to all your house's games." The Ravenclaw went on, "Darwin, she's a friend of yours, right?
Peter wasn't too sure where this was going. "Pipa-yeah. We've been friends since first year."
William let a chuckled out. "Then Peter and Margo introduced me to Pipa sometime after they were all chummy-so I've been friends with her just as long as them."
Pipa… Edmund figured that was her nickname and while it was cute, the nickname did not fit the girl the way her actual name did. "Does Ophelia fancy anyone in particular at the moment?"
"What?" William wasn't sure he heard right.
"Huh?" Peter felt like he was asked a personal question about relative.
Both Hufflepuff boys exchanged a quick glance with the other before they muttered their answers.
Peter started off, "Not that I know. Pipa is just Pipa...I don't think she even focuses on that stuff."
"Fancying people?" Edmund asked.
William spoke next. "She might to be honest. I think she told me she had to meet up with Tom Riddle and help him with an essay when first got back this year. Pipa tends to help him out a lot."
"I have Slug Club with Riddle." Edmund carried on, "Seems like a nice enough guy."
Peter furrowed his eyebrows and he turned to William. "So she helps him out every once and while and you think she fancies Riddle?"
William shrugged. "I mean, yeah. Riddle is bloody brilliant so why would he even need her help, and why else would she help him? It must be because she has a thing for the boy." The seventh year turned to the Ravenclaw, "Wouldn't you think?"
The Ravenclaw did not like being put on the spot, much less, when he was trying to pull information out of Zolotov and Elwood. "Friends most likely." That was Campion's answer because he hoping the Slytherin male and Hufflepuff female were only that: friends.
Peter's eye lit up, he was basically correct if someone else was agreeing with him. "Plus," the Elwood heir went on, "If Riddle fancied her or if Pipa fancied him, they've been friends since...first year as well. They would have dated or be dating by then or now but they stay friends."
Or at the very least, both William Zolotov and Peter Elwood knew if anything happened between Pipa and Riddle, Margo would have screamed to it into their ears before she screamed it out into the world.
The Ravenclaw was relieved that he got the information he wanted. It would make approaching Ophelia Darwin easier without wondering if she had a lad she was sweet on.
The Slytherin prefect waited patiently with his foot deathly still and his posture as perfect as it could be outside the History of Magic class. If he remembered correctly, History of Magic tended to Ophelia's last class of the day.
As the door pushed opened and student rushed out, Tom easily spotted a girl with mousy, straight, brown hair and green eyes. He approached her without a second thought; one cold hand securely latched onto her left hip as he pushed her in the direction he wanted.
"Hey!" Ophelia tensed as she had no choice but to allow herself to be directed any which way. An unnerving sense of dread filled her as she realized that he stirred her farther away from the crowd of students...Farther away from witnesses.
The Room of Requirement appeared, Tom opened its grand doors and easily shoved Ophelia in first.
For a brief moment, the half-blooded witch was reminded of her morning and how the Ravenclaw she just met had opened a classroom door for her without shoving her. Edmund Campion seemed sweet...Unlike the current young man she found herself in the company with.
"Tom!" Ophelia didn't try to hide her upset tone with the Slytherin boy. "What the hell are you doing?" In her mind, one of the things that kept her fairly safe from Tom's mean tendencies towards her was the fact that he never pulled his cruel stunts in public.
Tom Riddle closed and locked the doors of the Requirement Room, a displeased look came on his face. His brown eyes narrowed at the girl as he walked towards her. In every step he took, there was authority and dominance and when he closed in on Ophelia, their chests close together and her back forced up against a stone wall. Even if Tom enjoyed how Ophelia felt as he used his body to cage the girl in-he felt livid.
"Who the fuck is Edmund Campion?" Tom knew Edmund Campion but not personally. To the heir of Slytherin, Campion was some Ravenclaw student. Though now, he wanted to know who the fuck Campion was to Ophelia.
"What?" Ophelia had her hands in the center of Tom's chest, but she didn't try to push him off of her. It would just make everything worse, she told herself. I'd be giving the spark to the flame he wants to burn me up with.
Tom had his hands on Ophelia's hips; he pulled those petite hips of hers upwards and practically slammed it close to his pelvis. "I know you're slow so let me restate it." A painful amount of pressure was used as Tom's fingers dug into the fabric of Ophelia's skirt, causing a mixed sensation of either bruising or pinching to her skin. "Who the fuck is Edmund Campion?"
Even though Ophelia was certain she did nothing wrong, a strong sense of guilt was prodded around in her body. "I just met him today." Ophelia knew that maybe her statement wasn't the exact truth but it wasn't that much of a lie either. (Maybe her little, white lie was the reason Ophelia Darwin felt guilty.) She only found out the Ravenclaw's name that morning so technically-Ophelia wasn't being too dishonest with Tom.
"Then why do Slughorn and Roseweed have it in their heads you and Campion are going to be an item." Tom's voice was close to a growl, he was almost certain that Ophelia was just lying to save herself. Maybe she hung out with him when Tom was busy devoting himself to worthwhile research. Maybe on nights Tom wasn't in her, that fool was. In his mind the image of Ophelia lying in bed with a stranger flooded his thoughts; hot rage soon flooded fiber of his body. "Are you lying to me?" Tom looked into dull green eyes intently. "I can promise you, I will make you miserable if you are lying."
At the mention of Professor Roseweed, it was now Ophelia's turn to get angry. "He walked me from Transfiguration to Herbology!" Ophelia nearly yelled. "I was late by a few seconds and Roseweed made a big deal out of it. I literally introduced myself to him and he introduced himself back! Roseweed was the one who fabricated the rest about Campion and I!" Ophelia closed her eyes tightly and sighed. Even though Tom had her pinned down and held tightly, her skinny body still managed to shake with anger. "Fuck….That woman really shouldn't be a professor of any sort."
The prefect paused and read the expression on the Hufflepuff's face: annoyance, anger, and stress all shared a space on her features. Tom knew his filthy witch...She couldn't fake any of those emotions at the drop of a hat-it must have been the truth. Tom removed his hands from Ophelia's body right before he completely removed the rest of him off of her. He got the answers he wanted.
Ophelia remained against the wall, unsure of what Tom would do next.
Tom Riddle walked calmly out of the Room of Requirement; not once did he glance back at Ophelia.
A small gasp of discomfort escaped Ophelia's body as she finally removed herself from the stony wall. She was certain Tom left the bruises on her hips on purpose.