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.
I am now in the process of moving in with a friend and so we both will be cut off from the internet for a best, a month due certain moving expenses. I am apologizing in advance for that. I am so sorry and I hope guys will forgive me! I swear I will update as soon as I can once I am all done with the move and have everything sorted out! Sorry guys!
This story is rated 'M' for a reason-this chapter contains a scene of abuse/magic being used in a violent way. You've been warned. I wrote this song listening to 'Primadonna' by Marina and the Diamonds for the first portion. Then for the rest of chapter, I listened to 'I Put a Spell on You' by Screamin' Jay Hawkins, so give those songs a listen if you think it'll add more to the chapter.
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 5, 1943
Primadonna-noun-a very temperamental person with a very high opinion of themselves in terms of importance, talent or skill. Also known as Margaret Blaine. Though, it wasn't just Margo who held herself in high regard, no, she included Peter and even William on the up and up of pure-blood society. A person who she held the highest esteem and respect for, her favorite half-blood: Ophelia.
It nearly broke her heart when she found Pipa wasn't a pure-blood. Margo was sure Hogwarts was going to chew up and spit the brunette girl out as if she was last week's gourmet lamb shanks. The half-blooded witch proved the pure-blooded witch wrong.
Margo was, above all else, thrilled when Pipa had a natural knack of taking all things with a enormous grain of salt.
The blonde hair, blue eyed beauty never could fathom even walking a block in the brunette's shoes...Margo was sure however, Pipa could run miles in hers. Margo even had a vision about it too. Her best friend, rubbing elbows with the refined pure-bloods of the wizarding world and it wasn't Edmund Campion who stood besides Pipa.
Which was why, Margo Blaine found herself sneaking out of the her shared sleeping space at six in the morning to meet with the one she thought suited Pipa best. Although having visions on the future was always a gamble-sometimes Margo's visions came true but sometimes they didn't, she could still meddle in the affairs of her friends. Margo Blaine practically lived for that.
"Margaret Blaine," Tom showed off a toothy, white smile. "I thought you wouldn't show up this morning." That was a lie, Tom knew damn fine and well that the Blaine girl would indeed show up. Especially when Tom had caught Margo alone in the Grand Hall after Ophelia refused to make an appearance for dinner. Which prompted the heir of Slytherin to realize how yesterday, as he held his Hufflepuff in his arms, that a good shag wasn't going to get Ophelia right back in line. He had to pull some extra strings.
Margo was that extra string. The way women, even young ones, worked was simple: you get one friend to be on your side, then you get the one you want on your side as well. So Tom simply asked Margo if she could meet up with him to discuss their favorite and only thing they had in common.
"Riddle," Margo greeted warmly to the Slytherin prefect. "How might I help you this fine morning?"
Time to play dumb. Tom dropped the toothy smile and let a sullen tone drop over his features. "Well, as you know, last night I just heard a lot of things about Ophelia going out on a date with a bloke our year and I was curious about it, you know?" Tom paused for a slight second to look at the blonde witch-a look of hope flickered in her eyes. He continued, "I was going to just ask if it was true or not, but then came dessert of last night's meal and I could not stand the idea of Ophelia on a date with someone and I couldn't find her!"
Tom's voice portrayed more raw emotion forced in this setting than it ever did on his own natural way of speaking.
"Oh, Riddle!" Margo's eyes were filled with something akin to sympathy for the boy. She was hated to be the one to break the news, but Margo figured she had to do it. (Even though, Tom already knew it all.) The pretty blonde let out a quiet sigh. "Pipa was asked on a date, but I doubt it went well! When I finally got back to the girl's dormitory, she was so sullen!"
A small pang of short-lived guilt echoed in the handsome teen's body. Tom knew he was the true reason behind Ophelia's sullen mood-he didn't care nor did he mind it. A part of him liked being able to influence Ophelia's emotions to major extremes. "Sullen?" Tom pretended to sound outraged, "Who made her feel like that?"
Margo scoffed and flipped her hair over her shoulder, "Some Ravenclaw who really isn't worth her time."
Tom nodded his head in false agreement. For all he knew, Edmund Campion could be Ophelia's soul mate but there was no way Tom was going to share his play thing with another male. "Blaine, may I ask something?"
Margo offered a friendly smile to Tom, "Yes?"
"Do you think, oh Merlin, this is embarrassing." He paused to scratch the back of his neck and give a forced boyish grin. "Do you think, as Ophelia's friend, that I could be worth her time?"
Margo nearly screamed her reply. "Yes! Goodness, Tom! I keep telling Pipa, you and her would be the best couple!" Margo then completely stopped her talking and Tom's question sink into her brain properly. "Wait! So are you telling me that...you like Pipa?"
I like how she feels underneath me. I like how she makes me feel when I know she is scared of me. If Tom could have pretended to blush, he would have but he didn't have the luxury of that ability. Instead he settled for giving the pure-blooded witch a smile and a small shrug. "Is it that obvious?"
Margo could have died of happiness.
Tom smirked at how easy it was to manipulate the Blaine witch.
The two soon concocted a plan.
"It's sure awful quiet this morning," William stated as he sipped his tea in the comfort of the common room.
"Margo's out," Ophelia said with a yawn as she settled deeper into the couch. Her pale green eyes went over her history notes for her upcoming test on witch executions. The half-blooded witch was particularly worn out and tired today. "She's been out for quite some time now."
Peter shot a look at the brunette who sat in between him and William. "On a Sunday?" Peter was confused as he lowered his current issue of the Daily Prophet. "Margo doesn't wake until half past ten on Sundays." The Elwood heir looked to the clock that hung in the common room. "I'm barely even eight in the morning."
A smug grin broke on William's face. "Ohh. Maybe Margo is off buying skimpy lingerie for you."
"William." Ophelia elbowed the Zolotov boy in his ribs. "Don't."
"I doubt she is." Peter stated calmly as he brought his new paper back up to his face. "Even so, at least I have a girl willing to impress me in such a way."
Ophelia put down her notes, "So you two are betrothed to each other then?" She looked to William, "Or how does it work?"
"We won't know until Margo's engagement party, if you could even call it that." William said as he reached for a biscuit. "Meaning Peter won't know if he is supposed marry her, and meaning Margo won't know if she is supposed marry him. All we do know if pure-bloods love arranged agreements, especially the marriage kind." William shrugged and once again, a smug grin came back to his face. "I bet you my right shoe Margo gets engaged to an old man nearing his fifties, going on wife number four."
"William!" Ophelia slapped the seventh year on the arm, before she turned to Peter. "I am sure Margo's parents would never inflict an old man on her for a husband."
"Pipa!" William teased, "Look at Peter, he practically is an old man!"
Peter smirked, his eyes didn't leave the printed words of his newspaper. "What is that saying though? The older the man, the better the experience? If so might just have more experience than you , William."
A look of abject horror flashed on William's face. "Oh, you foul prick!"
Ophelia let a small chuckle escape her lips and she shook her head at the two boys. The half-blooded witch continued on to review her notes. It helped in blocking out yesterday's last few activities.
Silence surround the friends like a blanket as they enjoyed each other's company.
"Good morning!"
The silence was gone as Margo practically bounced into the room but she wasn't alone.
"Hello everyone."
Ophelia tensed up.
"Ah!" William smiled, "Riddle come for a visit, have you?"
Peter nodded in acknowledgment towards the Slytherin prefect. "Riddle."
Fuck this bullshit. Ophelia's eyes darted to Margo, who only smiled back at her.
"I spotted Riddle this morning, Pipa. He mentioned something about your notes for Ancient Runes and well, I thought it would be proper to invite him over seeing as you weren't feeling too great last night."
Those events have nothing to do with the other. Ophelia refused to look over towards the Slytherin nor did she have the strength to deal with Margo. A part of Ophelia felt betrayed by Margo. Okay, sure, Ophelia was not forward in telling her friend the truth about Tom nor was she forward about telling Margo anything else about her and Tom.
However, Ophelia was almost certain that Margo knew about her budding interest about Edmund Campion.
It hurt Ophelia deeply.
"I'll go get my notes then." Ophelia tried to make her voice seem light and normal as possible as she apparated to her room. In a blink, she found her Ancient Runes notes and apparated back down to the common room. Without even a muttered hello or acknowledgment of who she stood before, Ophelia simply held out her notes to Tom.
"Thank you," Tom smirked. He knew what she was trying to do. "I hope I wasn't imposing on you."
Tom. Go. Leave.
The heir of Slytherin wasn't planning on leaving just yet. "How was your afternoon yesterday? Anything eventful happen?" As he said that, lapse of their intimate rendezvous went on in his head. Ophelia's moans played in his head and a wave of satisfaction crashed down on him. His pale hands went to grab the notes that were held out ; Tom made sure to brush his fingers against her fingertips ever so slightly.
"No." Ophelia's bitter voice snapped him out of the little memory he was reliving. She didn't care anymore if she was playing with fire or a poisonous snake. A part of her wanted to hurt him or at the very least, push him away. "Besides my date with Campion," Ophelia paused to fake a hum and she shrugged her shoulders in the most innocent manner she could muster. "No. Nothing else even mildly eventful happened."
A forced laugh flew from Margo's mouth. "Pipa...Please be more polite. Riddle is still a prefect even if he is your close friend." Margo thought to herself: Pipa being moody certainly was not part of the plan.
Ophelia did her best to hold back a glare at Margo, but she didn't try to hide the strain in her voice as she addressed her words to the blonde girl. "Good thing he isn't on prefect duty right now, eh?"
Peter and William threw a glance at each other. A general look of understanding flooded the boy's expressions. There was a tension between Riddle and Darwin and whatever Margo did, she meddled into it.
How strange, William Zolotov thought as he pointed his wand at the tea set in front of him and willed it away. Pipa isn't ever this testy.
Peter felt a headache form in the front of his. Damn it, Margo! You need to read situations better and leave Pipa alone sometimes! Fuck!
"Would you look at the clock!" William clapped his hand together as hard as he could to get a loud boom to echo from his hands. "Nearly nine o'clock and we haven't have breakfast. I say we just go and eat and be chummy with each other like we usually all are."
Peter then added, "I believe egg souffle sounds rather good this morning."
"I'm not hungry," Ophelia's voice softened as she turned to William and Peter. A lie quickly came up to her head on the spot. "Come to think of…" Which Professor absolutely doesn't give a shit about Tom's charm? Relief and a small sense of safety flooded coursed through Ophelia's veins, "I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore about my last essay."
"Pipa, no, please join us for breakfast." Margo realized that she might have made her friend upset by bringing over someone unannounced.
Without so much as a goodbye, Ophelia apparated away from all of them and easily found herself inside the office of Albus Dumbledore.
A loud crackling boomed out through the room. Professor Dumbledore looked up from his desk over to source of the sound.
"Miss Darwin," Dumbledore arched one eyebrow up at the skinny teen while sporting a thin smile. "While it is a pleasure to see, might I suggest knocking on my office door next time?"
"Sorry Professor." Ophelia sighed and sat in the chair positioned in front of the Professor's desk. "I needed a place to hide away for a brief moment."
"Here I thought maybe you came to visit me." Professor Dumbledore only needed to look at Ophelia for a brief second longer before her could piece together something was wrong. "Do you want to talk about what is bothering you or should I assign you a job to keep your mind occupied?"
Ophelia's eyes darted over the left hand side of the desk, three stacks of papers awaited to be marked and graded. I could tell him now...Just how terrible Tom is...I have the chance...The half-blooded witch slumped her back further into the chair and sighed. "How much papers would I need to grade and how long would it take me?"
Dumbledore tried not to chuckle as he could tell the teen in front of him was being serious. "That would depend on how long you wanted to be here?"
….No...Dumbledore wouldn't believe me anyhow. Ophelia sighed, "Bring on the papers, I guess." Would he?
A soft clicking sound came from Albus Dumbledore, "Miss Darwin, I know full and well you don't want to mark off assigned essays for me for the rest of the day. What is your current plight?"
Ophelia sighed...Now or never I suppose…
"Professor?"
"Yes, Darwin?"
The brunette let her eyes shift around the room for a brief moment. You're fine. Tom isn't going to get you. He's not the boogeyman, Ophelia!
Ophelia was right...Tom Riddle wasn't the boogeyman. Tom Marvolo Riddle was her boogeyman. He was the monster that instead of going bump in the night, he casually bullied her into doing his history homework.
"Professor," Her voice cracked and her eyes watered slightly, "I need you to promise what I say will stay between you and I to the best of your discretion."
From the look of the poor girl's face, the auburn haired wizard had an inkling of what was to come out of her mouth. He did hope, however, his assumptions were wrong. "I will do my best."
Ophelia knew where to start, what to emphasize, and where to end as she began to spoke. The Hufflepuff did her best to exclude the details of her and Tom's closeness but that wasn't important.
Tom abusing his power as a prefect to get into the restricted was important.
Tom inflicting pain on his fellow house mates was important.
Tom using a Cruciatus curse was terribly important.
Ophelia attested to it all as tears ran down her face.
Two hours had past and Dumbledore took it all in with a quiet nod and calm yet serious demeanor. "You're aware of the grave nature of all these moments you've brought to my attention, aren't you?"
Ophelia nodded as she swatted her tears away and steadied her voice. "I-I-I am, yes."
Silence settled in between the two of them for a brief moment.
"So what happens now?" Ophelia's eyes were red and puffy. "I know Selene Sharpe probably can't speak up an event she doesn't remember. I know Lestrange, Malfoy, and the rest are too scared to go against him and I-I…." There were no more words she could use to help herself out. Ophelia let herself pause. He probably doesn't believe me.
A deep sensation of pity swelled in Dumbledore's chest as he watched the Hufflepuff before him try and keep a level head attached to her shoulders. Dumbledore did believe Ophelia-with every fiber of his being. "Now," The auburn haired wizards began, "You be careful of how you interact with Riddle."
"What? That's it?" Ophelia didn't find much comfort in that command, if it even was one. "I am already walking on eggshells around him. It's not as if I am the one provoking him to start."
Dumbledore shook his head at the student. "I know that isn't the answer you want to hear but that is the reality of your solution. Though now, at least you have me to keep a closer eye out for the you and an eye on him."
Take what you can and appreciate it, Ophelia. Dumbledore believes and he is a more than competent wizard. Be glad. You'll be fine.
"I'm going to really try this year to push him far away from me as possible…" Ophelia said that barely above a whisper. How many times had she that before and actually manage to that?...Or was that a harder task to manage because it was Tom Riddle who was the one who initiated their interactions.
"May you succeed in your endeavor Miss Darwin." The Transfiguration professor gave a small smile to the student, "Also, may you try and enjoy the rest of your weekend."
Something twisted around in Ophelia's gut. "Thank you, Professor."
Ophelia walked out into the open and chilly halls of Hogwarts. Snow fell quietly to the ground as she passed small gaggles of fellow students.
In her haste to get away from Tom (and Margo to a certain extent), she didn't think to grab her winter coat. Ophelia drew her wand out of the sleeve of her sweater and muttered a quick spell to allow her body to feel warm for a while.
Without even thinking much of where to go or to even check in with her friends, Ophelia did what she tended to do best when she was alone.
She wandered.
Tom Riddle knew exactly where to find the disgusting, little witch who insulted him that morning. She was supposed to fall back under my foot. He grimaced as he apparated from one place to the next. She went to Dumbledore no less. If Ophelia had gone to the auburn haired wizard two months before-Tom wouldn't have questioned or even worried about Ophelia's loyalty to him...Though the Ophelia who stood in front of him now wasn't the same Hufflepuff he'd practically grown up with in a weird sense.
The handsome teen had found Ophelia sitting on one of the benches of the snow covered Quidditch Pitch.
"What the fuck has gotten into you?" Tom snarled as he placed a hard grip on Ophelia's shoulders. He scoffed as fear flooded into her pale eyes. "You were acting so brave this morning with your little pack of badgers. Where is that false bravery now?"
Ophelia didn't answer, instead she tried to shrug Tom's hand off of her. She placed a hand over Tom's and pushed his pointer finger backwards as far back as it could go. There was no yelp of pain from Tom, he could only instinctively release Ophelia. He watched as Ophelia apparated from him.
The heir of Slytherin did not like that one bit but still, he knew where she'd go if she honestly was desperate enough to get away from him. No one knew how Ophelia's mind work more than her personal monster.
Tom apparated by the entrance of the dark forest, this time he was in front of Ophelia instead of behind. His displeasure with Ophelia had risen in a span of milliseconds-he hated it-no...Tom loathed it when Ophelia purposefully ignored him.
"You ignoring me and running away from me is not going to play out in your favor, you filthy thing." Tom used his pet name for her as carefully took a step towards her. His voice was soft and mellow while it still held onto dangerous undertones.
A sad and cracked sound escaped from the witch who stood still in the snow; had Ophelia been calm it would have sounded more like a proper sarcastic scoff. "When I'm alone with you, Tom." Her voice was strained, "Nothing ever plays out in my favor."
It only took three more steps before Tom wrapped his arms possessively around his favorite prey. "Oh…"Tom let a seductive tone mix in with danger he held in his voice. "Not even when I get you to cum like yesterday?"
I want you gone! Leave me alone! In act of brash thoughts and with a short temperament, Ophelia blurted out something she was sure to end her. No-it had nothing to do with Tom's bait to get her to admit she enjoyed sex with him.
She decided to be honest with Slytherin. "Read my mind, Tom." Ophelia stated calmly. "Besides, isn't that you came to me for? To know exactly what I told Dumbledore?"
Something in Tom's heart shattered-broken glass-was all he could think of as he used Legilimency to pry into Ophelia's mind. "You…" Tom seethed slowly as he saw everything play out in Ophelia's mind through memory. He tore his body away from the girl who was now causing him an unusual amount of what he could only describe as...heartbreak...Tom's eyes widened. Is that what this is?
Tom Marvolo Riddle saw two thing at once. First he saw the witch who he once thought was blind in her loyalty to him, then he saw a deep and violent red as he drew his wand out and pointed it at the witch.
Ophelia froze with fear; she knew she couldn't outrun magic. Not when there was less than two feet between her and Tom.
"Crucio..." Tom whispered coldly as the curse hit the Hufflepuff. A blood curling scream filled his ears as pain flooded into his heart. As the cold breeze hit his face, Tom could have sworn he felt a tear or two escape his eyes. "Crucio!...Crucio! Crucio…"
Ophelia's body wreathed in pain on the snow covered ground. Her eyes were shut lightly, her breathing shallow, but her heart was beating fast and well from the fear that blossomed in her veins.
She thought for a brief moment of the executions and trials of muggles who were accused of being witches: death by hanging. death by stoning, death by drowning, death by fire..The pain Ophelia felt seemed like an unruly combination of all those unpleasant ways to die.
Tom stepped towards the brunette on the ground, surround by white. "You make me sick...I trusted you!" Tom hissed as he noticed how shaky his hands and feet were. The handsome teen bent down on one knee right besides the Hufflepuff.
While Ophelia was always fair skinned, in her moment of weakness and pain her skin took on the complexion to that of a porcelain doll.
Tom wanted both break and embrace his porcelain doll as she laid there still and quiet. His pale and slender finger rushed to find a pulse on her neck. A small and short lived sense of comfort filled Tom's body to know she was indeed, still alive. Tom used his free arm to gingerly prop the unconscious beauty up; he kept her head securely against his chest.
"I hate you so much sometimes...Ophelia…" Tom said in doleful whisper. "But let's face it: you're mine." A chaste and inappropriately sweet kiss was given on Ophelia's lips before Tom focused on his next move.
Tom pressed the tip of his wand timidly on the center of Ophelia's forehead. "Oblivate."