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 have no beta-reader so if you noticed any errors, please let me know so I can fix them as soon as possible. I also do not own the John Keats poem used in this chapter. If I used any music or poems or any other medium you may have noticed from pop culture or music/books I do not own that source.
This series is rated 'M' for a reason-there is a sex scene in this chapter.
Also, the next chapter, expect another time jump!
I want to say a great and big thank you to those readers who leave reviews and favorite and follow this series. It shows me that people are interested this story and that I should continue. Please,please,please leave some reviews if you can! Thank you much everyone, when you leave a review it lets me know readers are interested in this story and want me to continue. Thank you so much!
June 29, 1945
The invitation to bare witness for the matrimony of Margaret Blaine and Peter Elwood reached a great majority of pure-bloods. The bride did take her time to specifically make sure that one family-who lived in the muggle world made it to her wedding day. Though that was besides the point, the day was about her and guests were more or less needed for a wedding day.
Margo was always beautiful, there never was a moment in her life where she wasn't. Today, the young heiress looked like a king's daughter out of a Renaissance painting-she was stunning.
Margo wore a pure white lace, off the shoulder, wedding dress with a long pleated, hoop skirt. Her platinum blonde hair was twisted into a plaited bun. She looked down at her left hand-Margo stared down at her engagement right. It was a cushion cut diamond with two square cut amethyst gems on either side of the diamond; the band was made out of pure gold with even more pave-set amethyst melted into band. A matching amethyst choker decorated Margo's neck as well (Peter knew Margo's favorite color was purple so he took the liberty of getting Margo's jewelry for the day custom made.) An ugly frown was on the beautiful bride's face.
Someone had given her less than pleasing news. "How the fuck did the baker mess up the wedding cake!"
Margo paced around in her bedroom (the wedding was being held on the premise of the Blaine estate). Margo's mother had went down to the kitchen to try and figure out how a cake that was specifically ordered three red velvet cake with white buttercream icing and eight tiers, became four caramelized vanilla cakes with ganache icing and only seven tiers.
"I can't do it today, I can't-nope. Tell Peter we cannot get married today!" Margaret almost cried. "I planned this wedding since sixth year! Why is this happening to me now?" She threw her gaze to person she designated to be her maid of honor, seated on the center of her bed, making a crown of flowers for her to wear. "I am fucking good person!"
"Such a good damn person," Ophelia replied back her voice flat as she kept her attention on finishing up the hydrangea crown (purple of course) by hand per Margo's request. Thank Merlin for Kane and his family, Ophelia thought added the last flower to the flower crown by braiding it in tightly with the other flowers.
"WHERE THE FUCK IS SELENE?" Margo yelled finally as she remembered how that red headed bitch was so admandant on wearing white on the day of her wedding. "Adelina told me she saw that walking strawberry crumpet wearing a white silk off the shoulder gown! I need to see her before the wedding to make sure she's changed or I swear I will fuckin' cut that whore!"
Fuck me. Ophelia sighed and got off the bed, walked to her friend, and placed the freshly made flower crown on Margo's head. The brunette loved her friend, to a point where Margo was more a sister than a best friend. However that did not mean she could stand anymore of Margo's yelling and conniption fits over everything since she got back on the twenty-sixth.
I understand why Margo's parent give into her every whim and want.
Ophelia was still trying to get over the extreme time differences between England and Kane's island, right now, she was running on perhaps maybe three hours of sleep. Literally, she got to experience living the same date twice without having to use a time turner and the weird time warp took a harsh hit on Ophelia's body.
She didn't even get to eat breakfast due to having to get dressed and ready for today's festivities-so Ophelia also trying to function on an empty stomach. Ophelia wanted the rest of the day to go smoothly and for Margo to just stop her bitching and enjoy her fucking wedding day. Was that too much to ask for?
"Where was Selene Sharpe last seen, Margo?" Ophelia asked heading towards the door-her hand already on the knob.
"Somewhere out in the yard, chatting it up with the guests." Margo sighed, "Why do you ask?"
There were no words used to answer Margo's question-just a the sound of a door slamming shut.
Ophelia was a sight to see with her short brown hair and her peachy tan. She wore no jewelry to go along with the v-neck, wine colored halter gown that allowed for a tasteful amount of her back to be displayed. Ophelia might have heard some former classmates of hers from Hogwarts try to get her attention as she passed by them.
She easily spotted Edmund by a large champagne fountain, a pretty red headed witch dressed in white right by his side and a glass of champagne firm in his hand. Edmund should have at least had some sense to remind his date to not wore white on the day of his sister's wedding. Ophelia walked straight up to the couple, a serious yet relax expression on her face.
"Darwin," Edmund greeted with a smile at the sight of the former Hufflepuff. "How nice to see you!" The French wizard almost added in how nice Ophelia looked but he was able to stop himself from commenting. Selene didn't like when he commented on other females in general.
Ophelia ignored Edmund and arched an eyebrow at Selene. Usually, she might not have come off as the even slightest bit aggressive or angry in many cases but Ophelia really didn't have the will to partake in any high society, pureblood bullshit. At least not an empty stomach.
"I see you were able to make it to the wedding." Selene narrowed her steely blue eyes at Ophelia, a cruel smirk on her face. "Back from learning primitive magic? Tell me, I want to laugh about something, that island you went to? Were all the men savages and the women there are half-fish?" Selene laughed before gesturing to the gown. "Tell me, how do I look? I was going for a summer innocence look with the class of a grown woman. This made out of the finest white silk from Asia and by the best pure-blood designer in Italy. Nothing like mudblood dresses you're so used to seeing, I bet."
I really don't have time for this shit. Ophelia reached out with her hand and grabbed at what little fabric of Selene's dress that has supposedly to be the sleeve and gave it a strong tug. The former Hufflepuff ripped the sleeve clean off Selene's body and threw it down on the ground.
Ophelia wasn't done yet. She grabbed the glass of red champagne out of Edmund's hand and splashed it directly on the dress the red headed witch wore. Selene's once white and perfect dress was now stained and ruined.
Selene screamed in horror. Other attendees of the wedding stopped their small talk conversations to look at what the commotion was all about. One dark haired man in particular tuned in carefully when he recognized the female in a wine colored dress.
"For such a magical dress it sure tears and stains like a mudblood made dress, how funny." Ophelia deadpanned.
"Edmund," Selene whined as she fought tears from coming down her eyes. "Do something!"
"Yes, Edmund, do something." Ophelia stated. "Like make sure she doesn't wear white to your own sister's wedding." She returned the empty glass to Edmund.
Edmund said nothing as he grabbed the glass.
Ophelia walked away from the couple, a look of satisfaction on her face. Margo would be happy, the wedding can start, I get food in my system, and then I can take a nap. I am a damn great maid of honor.
"You're learning how to be a bully now, is that what you've learned abroad?" A smooth and deep voice said as it walked side by side with her. "I never would have guessed it, Ophelia, because wow that was so out of character for you."
Ophelia let out a tired groan and tired to pick up her pace. "Nice to see you, Tom." She forced out, "But I don't have time for this right now."
Tom Riddle still walked along with Ophelia. "I'm just accompanying you back to where ever a cute little bridesmaid needs to be." His familiar tone of voice was smug, over confident, and still so condescending as ever.
"Why?" She shot back with a small underlying tone of irritation her tone.
Tom went straight to the point. "Remember May eighth?"
Ophelia scoffed, of course she remembered May eighth but why did Tom care. "Which May eighth? What year you mean? 1941, 1942? 1943, maybe?"
"Oh, you know exactly what I am talking about." Tom Riddle did not stop in chasing after Ophelia. He got as far as the outside of Margo's bedroom door, his hand on the door knob. "That neat little spell you did," He whispered dangerously into Ophelia's ear. "We're going to have a chat about it."
Ophelia said nothing at first as she looked at Tom. Her thoughts quiet. It took her about half a minute to think of something to say. "I'm not teaching you that spell, Tom."
"Please," A rough chuckle came from Tom's lips. "Like I want to learn a primitive spell from you. No, you know something. You've known since that night and I want to see what it is." The soft scent of cinnamon was slight on the witch he used to be so familiar, it seemed as if the scent was fading from her skin. He would never admit it-but he missed the scent of Ophelia sometimes.
"Tonight," Tom told Ophelia as he turned the door knob. "You and I will have a dance and we'll have a nice long discussion." The door finally opened, the sound of Margo pacing could easily be heard. Tom gave Ophelia a small caress on the exposed part of her back that the dress didn't cover. "Go on then. Be a good little helper for your friend." Before the handsome man completely took his hand off Ophelia's back, Tom leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Save a dance for me."
It would have been sweet, honestly, it should have been. If Tom Riddle still had more of a soul to offer (what little was left of his soul, Tom planned to split it even farther) maybe then there would a sweet sincerity in saving a dance for the heir of Slytherin.
Ophelia took a deep breath, straightened out her posture, and walked into Margo's room. She didn't really have the time to overthink everything little about Tom's actions.
"Selene's going to change her clothes." The brunette witch looked around Margo's bedroom and picked up two flower bouquets. Ophelia handed over the bouquet of white roses and purple calla lilies to Margo, while keeping her bouquet of wisterias in her grip. "You ready to be Missus Margaret Andrea Elwood?"
Margo nodded. A look of pure excitement mixed with overwhelming stress flickered dangerously in the pure-blooded witch's blue eyes. "No, the question should be if Peteris Xavier Elwood is ready for me-because ready or not-here comes the bride."
A small smile was on Ophelia's face, she reached her hand out towards Margo's shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. "Let's get on with this then, eh?"
Ophelia was quite possibly beyond exhausted and perhaps closer to death by the time the main portion of the wedding ceremony was done. The ring exchange is done! Thank Merlin! Ophelia stayed deathly still as the closing remarks echoed all around her. Margo and Peter kissed at the altar, classical music soon rang loudly from every angle of the Blaine manor.
A sigh of relief escaped Ophelia's lip,a shy smile on her face as she and William walk behind the bride and groom. With ease and under the demand of Margo, the Russian wizard and the half-blood witch linked their arms together.
"Holy fuck!" William whispered-his tone tired, strained, and irritated.
"I know," Ophelia whispered back. "We made it through the hardest part of today."
"How much of a mess was Margo before the wedding?" William asked. "Peter didn't sleep until ten this morning and only woke up forty minutes before the wedding. He thought he'd slept through the wedding and almost had a heart attack. Peter wouldn't even drink water to calm his nerves."
Ophelia scoffed. "That is nothing compared to Margo. She's been up since the arse crack dawn and therefore, I was up since dawn. I haven't eaten at all today."
"I've been stress eating all day." William replied.
"Stress?" Ophelia whispered back. "Why in God's name are you stressed?"
"Because Peter being stressed out, stresses me out!" William stated as if that was common knowledge. "You remember how uptight Peter can get, don't you?"
The half-blooded witch spotted an enchanted camera floating towards their general direction.
"Smile." Ophelia commanded as she nudge William lightly on his side; immediately tossing her shy smile for friendly, bigger smile. The best man of the groom stopped in his tracks and gave his best smile.
A camera flash went off, temporarily blinding the two for a slight second. The walk from the altar behind Margo and Peter was done with.
"I don't know if we'll make it through this night, Pipa." William deadpanned. "Weddings are too serious and they scare me."
"Commitment scares you, William." Ophelia's eyes roamed around the pretty and extensive yard of the Blaine property and the guests with nameless faces. Her eyes easily landed on a handsome young man with brown eyes and dark hair. Tom was speaking to an older and rather slimy looking man with a rather mean looking expression plastered to his face. "Why is Riddle even here?"
William shrugged. "The more the merrier."
Ophelia did not like that statement but she said nothing else. Her pale green eyes scanned the many guests in the crowd again. "Catch up with you later, yeah?" Ophelia pulled away from William.
"I'll either be by a champagne fountain or hiding under a table with a bottle of whiskey." William looked down at his wrist watch. "I'll be doing that for maybe, forty-five minutes or an hour or more maybe."
"Cheers to that." Ophelia took off and went to the table she saw her family at. With ease, Ophelia pulled a chair out from the table and sat down clumsily by her mother. A heavy sigh and a tired yawn mixed together as they escaped her lips.
"So…" Wendy Darwin started out carefully but stiffly. "What's this I heard about you ruining one of your friend's dress?" A judgemental glare present in Wendy's eyes.
Ophelia huffed. "She's not my friend, mum. Also, I didn't ruin the dress. I made it more appropriate for the wedding."
Wendy shook her head at her daughter, "If you cannot act like a grown up then we should all leave now."
Ben Darwin rolled his eyes at his wife. "Oh, like you haven't done anything petty your entire life."
Poppa leaned in to whispered to his granddaughter. "Your mother is extremely petty. It's almost funny."
"Anyways," Wendy gave all members of the Darwin family the 'mum glare', making sure it stayed the longest on her daughter. "Behave or we're all leaving early!"
Ophelia shrugged it off and sat quietly at the table with her family. A feeling that she was being watched inched on Ophelia, the gaze burned on her shoulders and on her back. Ophelia closed her eyes and steadied her breathing; she focused on the space beyond her. Easily, everything filled themselves with a precise image in her mind of what was going on around her. She already knew who was watching her; she saw him walking towards the table. Her eyes opened as she felt a hand place itself on the back of her chair.
"Hello." The voice introduced itself to the members of the table. "I know you may not know me, I'm Abraxas Malfoy. I was a classmate of Ophelia's at Hogwarts."
Ophelia turned around to get a better look at the male who introduce himself to her parents. A solid look of bewilderment obviously present on her face; she tilted her head off to the side. She wasn't sure what to say to him, since the last they'd spoke he kidnapped her.
"Well, how may we help you then?" Ben Darwin arched an eyebrow at the pure-blooded man. "Did you need something?"
"I was just going to ask Ophelia for a dance before dinner is served." Abraxas was a little surprised when the two non-magic users (Ophelia's parents) didn't jump on the chance to have their daughter dance with a pure-blood wizard of his stature. Did they not know how many other parents would take up the chance for their daughter to dance with him? "It'll only be one dance before dinner, I swear."
"Ask her then, man." Gregory stated reasonably. "Ask Ophelia, not us." The old man studied the Malfoy boy carefully-he knew about their family-every witch and wizard knew about the Malfoy family. "Things are a bit different in families that aren't just pure-bloods."
Abraxas was definitely not expecting that. He cleared his throat, pretended nothing happened, and looked directly at brunette witch. "Ophelia, would it be alright if I bothered you for one dance?" He held out a hand for Ophelia to take, there was a look of urgency in his that was hard to miss.
Hesitantly, Ophelia took Abraxas hand and followed him towards the designated dance floor (specifically meant for the outdoor wedding, per Margo's request). She placed one hand on his shoulder and the other hand went in to hold one of Abraxas' hands.
"Come a bit closer," Abraxas said. "I have something to tell you."
Ophelia shook her head, "I think I am fine from this-."
Abraxas went ahead and brought his body closer to hers; there was less inch between their chests. "Darwin, I need your cooperation right now." He began to lead the dance between the two of them.
"Uh," Ophelia easily followed the dance steps and rhythm of the music. "I'm sorry but what is this about?"
"You saved my skin once and I am merely returning the favor." The pure-blooded wizard hastily looked around the dance floor, he didn't see anyone he had to worry too much about. "Do not thank me, do not feel like we're friends, do not feel I am doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I'm only settling a score."
"Malfoy," The brunette went on. "You're speaking way too seriously for a wedding and honestly I am not in the right state of mind for such stern conversation."
The young man with pure blonde hair rolled his eyes. "I don't give a shit- so listen carefully. Whatever it is Lord-um-." Malfoy stopped in the middle of his sentence to correct the wording. "Whatever it is Riddle thinks you know; I'm telling you now Darwin, you don't know anything." He spun Ophelia around gently before continuing on with their dance. "If you can manage to avoid Riddle the rest of the night, do it. I doubt you can so for your sake, remember: you know abso-fucking-lutely nothing."
Pale green eyes combed over Abraxas' facial features and an all too real expression of solemnity was painted cooly on the pure-blooded wizard's face. Ophelia only furrowed her eyebrows at the very specific request, a wrinkle appeared on her forehead because of it. "What are you talking about?"
She would have pulled away from Abraxas but that would have made a scene and Ophelia had already made one scene for the day. Instead, in a rushed action, she pulled Malfoy's body closer to hers. "Malfoy," Ophelia whispered, "What are you talking about?"
He shook his head at the half-blooded witch, he took note of how the music faded out and how other guests rushed off to a table for dinner. Abraxas pulled away from Ophelia, he acted as if holding onto a half-blood any longer was the same as coming into contact with a leper. "Enjoy the rest of your night, Darwin." Abraxas backed away from her and calmly walked away into the crowd of other guests hustling to get into a seat for dinner.
How would anyone enjoy their night after being told that?
Ophelia reluctantly accepted the rather cryptic and possibly alarming advice from the pure-blooded wizard. An uneasy sense of responsibility and loyalty to stay until Peter and Margo's was strong in Ophelia's conscience, it mixed with her emotions of being sleep deprived. This night isn't about you...this night isn't about you... She put a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes for no longer than a minute. Keep your cool and just get on with the night.
Her hand dropped from her mouth, her eyes fluttered opened, and a smile that was hard to miss and hard to tell was obviously fake made an appearance on Ophelia's face. With strong and false flare of confidence in her walk and with highly concentrated grace Ophelia wasn't born with, she made her way to the champagne fountain.
Ophelia made it a point to make multiple and frequent trips the the champagne fountain.
"Pipa!" Margo chirped happily as her and Peter danced with each other as upbeat swing music blared throughout the party.
"Missus Elwood," Ophelia sang back as she and William bounced and danced with the roaring music.
"Can you lot believe it?" William yelled with pure energy in his voice (and the scent of vodka as well). "We're all officially adults-look, look, look-you two are married." William pulled away from Ophelia and kindly wrapped Margo and Peter in warm hug. William pointed to himself, "I am a functioning wizard with a job at the Ministry for Merlin's sake!" He then gestured to Ophelia, "Then there's our Pipa-trying her best in life."
It didn't sound as grand or rewarding as a job or marriage, but Ophelia knew William meant what he said about her in the sweetest and complimentary way possible.
Peter laughed at William. "You're drunk, mate."
"Well yes! Because you're not!" William shot back.
"Oh," Margo's face lit up as she remembered something, the word 'Ministry' slapped her memory into action. "My family's throwing a luncheon to support the 'Witches in the Ministry Workforce' program next month, and this will be my first time organizing and hosting such an event. " Margo went on, "You'd be a big help if you invited any of your friends in the Ministry or asked your parents to attend the event, William."
"I'll make sure there is a pricey bottle of champagne there for you if you attend." Peter said as he placed a shoulder on William's shoulder.
Usually Margo, Peter and William's interaction and conversations never left Ophelia feeling so alienated from them. She'd never even heard of the 'Witches in the Ministry Workforce'-she didn't even know if witches working in the Ministry was common or not.
Ophelia wanted to ask about what exactly the luncheon was supposed represent or she'd even ask if Margo wanted her help in running the event but a she felt too embarrassed to. So Ophelia decided it'd be best to excuse herself from the conversation.
"I think I'm going to lay down, I have a headache from lack of sleep." The brunette said with a soft tone of voice, she brought a hand to her forehead and messaged it for a brief minute for the sake of showing. "I won't be gone long, okay?"
Margo nodded and grabbed Ophelia's hands. "Rest up then, Pipa. If I see your parents, I'll let them know you're in one of the guest rooms."
Peter patted Ophelia's head, "Sweet dreams, Pipa."
William pointed towards the direction on the Blaine manor. "Do you need me to walk you over?"
"I'll be fine, thanks though." Ophelia smiled at her friends, pulled her hands away from Margo, and gave them a wave as she walked away. "See you all when I wake up."
At first, Tom thought Ophelia was busy throwing up in the ladies' powder room. He kept an eye on the former Hufflepuff for most of the duration of the reception. He might have lost sight of her for a brief moment, when he was speaking to a harsh wizard by the name of Caractacus Burke getting some insight on Hepzibah Smith.
Though, that was hours ago and he had found Ophelia again after his conversation ended with Burke.
Tom quietly stalked around the grand yard, he scanned the champagne fountain and the many tables out that offered wedding cakes and other sweet treats for the guests-but he didn't see Ophelia. His brown eyes set on on the Blaine manor and without any time to hesitate, he sneaked away without drawing any attention to himself.
It took the heir of Slytherin close to thirty minutes to find Ophelia. The amount of guest rooms in this place is ridiculous!
He found her laid out on a queen size bed. Ophelia was sleeping on the left side of her body. She still wore her bridesmaid dress as she slept, her heels were kicked off and placed thoughtfully by the bed.
For a brief moment, Tom found himself studying Ophelia's sleeping form. Not once had he ever stop and looked at someone enter a blissful state of sleep-especially not Ophelia, not even when they'd be intimate.
Carefully, Tom sat on the bed next to the sleeping lady. He took his shoes off and shrug off his suit jacket and took off his neck tie. He laid down next Ophelia and confidently placed a hand on her shoulder and shooked the half-blooded witch repeatedly until he heard her groan.
"Wake up." Tom snapped as he still had his hand on her shoulder. "Now."
Another groan escaped Ophelia's mouth. She was slowly waking up.
"Ophelia," Tom warned. "Wake up." The heir of Slytherin got on his knees while on the bed and he straddled over Ophelia. Using his hands he forced Ophelia's right shoulder down to the bed and fixed her body so she'd lay face up. He then moved on hand over to her face, his pointer finger and thumb placed firmly on Ophelia's chin and tilted her head up. "You missed our dance, my dear."
Ophelia placed a hand on Tom's wrist that kept her head in a fixed position. "I don't want to dance anymore tonight." She felt Tom's calm pulse on her the surface of her fingertips before she removed her hand. "Beside, why would you ever want to be seen touching a filthy witch with all the eligible pure-blooded witches to pick from."
"Because you might know something that they do not." Tom stated pointedly. "So spill it. Does the sad, little Ophelia Darwin know something about her good, old friend?"
You're not my friend. Ophelia thought angrily as she shifted under Tom's body. Without much else to think on the matter, Ophelia made sure to guard her mind and any other thoughts she wouldn't want Tom to have access to.
She tried to get comfortable and she noticed now, that she was actually felt quite cold in the guest room. "Could you pull the duvet up, please?" Ophelia's voice sounded far off as she started to slip back into a state of sleep. " Please...I'm cold."
For fuck's sake! Tom didn't know why he complied with Ophelia wishes, but he did. He pulled a thick blanket over their bodies, allowing himself to be put into a smaller more personal situation as he still straddled over the brunette. "You're lucky my patience is in good supply today." Only because she hasn't been around you the last year and hasn't had the chance the wear your patience out!
Ophelia sighed and looked Tom in the eyes. Oh goodness, Ophelia whined in her head. Tom really was too handsome than he deserved to be. Whatever darkness there is in him, is easily hidden by his all too suave looks. She brought a hand to Tom's face and merely caressed his cheekbone with her thumb. You could tell him the truth...or you can lie…
"So what do you know?" Tom's voice was neither aggressive nor kind. His brown eyes bored down into hers-his mind had been made should Ophelia give an answer that exposed him. That spell of hers that she did, whether he wanted to admit it or not, it touched what little of his soul was left...and it scared him how easily someone could do that and invade him in such a manner.
"Nothing." Ophelia lied in a blink. "That spell doesn't tell me much-it doesn't even do much."
Tom narrowed his eyes at her, "Then what would even be a point of a spell if it doesn't do much?" Without giving a hint that he was using Legilimency on Ophelia, he merely leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. Nothing...Tom noted. Nothing's going on her mind...it's only quiet.
"The point of it is, it's supposed to tell the one casting the spell how you feel." Ophelia pulled that lie out like a muggle magician would pull a rabbit out of their hat. "I felt you were angry with me...about the kissing comment." It wouldn't have taken a genius to tell that any male would have been upset should they found out a female they possessed strong feelings for, kissed random, other men.
A strong feeling of disappointment boiled throughout Tom's body-that feeling of disappointment almost pushed him to experience anger. He was sure that Ophelia knew something, just something that hinted at his true intentions and goals….But she didn't.
"So you spent about a year out and about away from Hogwarts to learn a spell about how people feel?" Tom tried not seethe at the revelation. "You could have come back to Hogwarts, you know." His voice was trained. "I could have gotten you back in, Ophelia. I told you!"
Ophelia shrugged it off. "It doesn't matter, Tom."
"Doesn't matter? It doesn't matter?" The heir of Slytherin, scoffed at that. "You know what-you're right, it doesn't matter." He wanted to yell and scream and argue with Ophelia but he didn't. The unfamiliar of sense of defeat was not something Tom liked, but if he couldn't control that-he could easily control something else.
Ophelia wasn't perfect, she never was and she never will be and Tom always would be aroused by that.
The handsome young man closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers and calmed himself. He wanted her but at the same time, should he defiled his body with a half-blood?
"If you want to kiss me," Ophelia stated slowly, her voice sounded seducative yet so far off as it was still laced with sleep. "You can."
Tom didn't move he just laid with Ophelia, their heads still close together. Her body felt warm and soft.
"Or if you want to leave you can, Tom." Ophelia shifted away from the heir of Slytherin. "You can stay, you can sleep, or you can-."
Tom Riddle brushed lips against Ophelia's, silencing her words and stopping her from getting farther away from him. He tangled his hands into her short hair (he missed it though, when it was much longer) and pressed his pelvis close to hers.
Ophelia went along with the kiss; her consent in the form of her hands roaming up and down Tom's back as their lips greeted each other. Excitement filled their bodies since neither of them could remember when the last time they'd been touch romantically.
One pair of lips pulled away from the other and began to kiss and bite lightly on the nape of their partner's neck. One hand slips away from short hair and sneaks down to feel on his partner's ass and the back of her thighs.
A groan escaped from Tom's lips as he felt his pants tightened, he pulled away from Ophelia but he was still over her, hovering. The duvet was thrown off their body. He ran a hand through his black hair and let out a heavy sigh.
Half-blood...she's a half-blood not a pure blood...Do you want that? Do you want filth touching you so intimately again just to ruin something the next chance she gets?
A small and quiet thought soon followed after the first. No, Tom told himself as unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it off his body, down to the floor of the guest room. I only want her...at least for the night.
Ophelia propped herself up on her elbows, careful not to kick Tom in her slight movement. Her heart was calm in her chest as she hiked her dress up to her hips.
Tom's eyes went wide at the sight of just how naked Ophelia was under her dress. "You're not wearing any under garments?" His pants felt tighter than usual. "How crude." Though it does make things go by easier. Tom unzipped the fly of his dress slacks and he carefully took his cock out and stroked it.
"Hot summer night," Ophelia started off as if she stating an easy fact. "Thick dress fabric and I'd be sweating like a pig in an oven." She laid back down, flat on her back and complete look of comfort on her features. A subtle and lusty look to Ophelia, maybe even a hidden sight of regret buried deep in those pale green eyes of hers.
Tom went ahead and positioned his throbbing member at Ophelia's opening; she was already wet for him and all it took a subtle moan from the witch to get Tom to start thrusting into her.
Without even thinking, the young couple had engaged in the act of sex without fully undressing (for the second time in their history of being intimate) and a heavy wave of heat was shared between the two of them.
Ophelia wrapped her hands around Tom's neck and captured his lips in a hungry kiss. An action done to keep her from talking and letting him know that she missed him.
Tom pulled his lips off the brunette and instead placed them on her shoulder and began to kiss and bite on her peachy and tan skin.
There was a deep and primal need for both of them to get what they wanted from sex, and when they both reached the climatic peak a quiet familiarity settled into the room.
Ophelia hiked her dress down and let out a sigh of contentment; Tom found himself lying right next to the half-blood he was so conflicted about bedding at first.
They didn't cuddled up next to each other; Tom didn't wrap his arms around Ophelia as he pulled the duvet back over them as the heat that once covered their body was now replaced with chilly air. No one said 'good night' or 'sweet dreams' as they both tried to get comfortable in the queen sized bed.
However, Tom did give a kiss on the back of Ophelia's neck before he pulled away to sleep on the side of the bed that was deemed his. While, in the middle of the night Ophelia would absentmindedly run her hand through Tom's dark and thick hair when she felt him fret in his sleep.
Though neither Tom Riddle or Ophelia Darwin would properly address their intimate rendezvous the next morning.
They'd go on to pretend that it never happened and that they never found pleasure in each other's company as adults.