Disclaimer: I do not support Rowling's views. All Harry Potter characters and the Wizarding World, unfortunately, belong to she-who-must-not-be-named.
When they returned to the dungeons, Ophelia made an excuse of getting a head start on a potions essay, allowing her to remain in the common room. She didn't want the girls to hear her entering and leaving the dorm multiple times throughout the night.
"Okay, Lia. . .this only makes us believe that you truly are turning into a Granger clone," Blaise remarked.
"You may say that now, but when I'm free of work and a Hogsmeade weekend comes along, who is going to be the one to go out with—oh I don't know—one of the many foreign students we're playing host to and show them around our quaint little village?" said Ophelia.
"Low blow, Female Warrington, but you're not wrong," Blaise replied with a wink. He pulled out the seat across from her and sat down, hands interlaced under his chin. "So when's the next study session? We can help you with Herbology," he sang.
"Fine, Tuesday? Is that good for everyone?" Ophelia looked around at the other fourth-years.
"Certainly, Professor," Pansy teased.
Ophelia left the common room to retrieve her things. She might as well actually follow through with her excuse and get work done.
When Ophelia returned, she was surprised to see everyone gone, and Draco lying on the couch, his feet propped up on the armrest and a book covering his face.
He lowered his book. "Well, this is certainly a surprise. A lop-sided grin on his face.
"The Secret History by Donna Tartt, quite pretentious of you," said Ophelia, amused. "Not only a semi-recent release but a Muggle book as well, sure you want to be seen reading that here?"
Draco gestured for her to look around the common room. It was empty save for a few sixth and seventh years studying for their N.E.W.T.S. "Ah, of course. The wonders of being the Prince of Slytherin," Ophelia said.
He rolled his eyes but opted for silence instead, his crooked grin still on his face.
Ophelia chuckled under her breath, despite all of her teasings, he never seemed to mind her quips and jokes. She took a seat on the floor opposite Draco, laying her parchment and books on the coffee table in front of her.
They sat together in companionable silence for over an hour, Ophelia working on her essay and Draco reading his book. Suddenly he spoke as if he just remembered to reply to her remark. "You know, considering you exposed your Muggle-ish interests in front of the whole school today, I believe that it's fair that I express some solidarity."
"Yes, with zero witnesses," she said while she skimmed her potions book for information on antidotes. The remaining students in the common room had now gone to bed.
"Naturally. Is Cas going to put his name in tonight?"
"Naturally. Why else would I be out here?"
"To become a Granger clone?"
"Ugh, it's fine when everyone else says it, but hearing it from you makes it worse, Draco. Fuck off," she scoffed, still on edge after all of the emotions she had confronted that day.
Draco smirked. "Well, if you insist." He began to loosen his tie.
"Oh, don't mind me if I'm interrupting something. Although I don't particularly like knowing that my kid sister is into exhibitionism. Do we need to have the talk?"
Ophelia turned to see Cassius standing at the mouth of the stairwell leading to the dorms.
Ophelia got up and smacked Draco in the back of his head with her book. "You wanker, you knew Cas was here!"
Draco laughed. "It's too easy to get a reaction out of you! You've lost your touch, Lia."
"Well maybe I've gotten so reactionary because of you, asshole," she glared, but Ophelia had to admit, she had been losing her touch.
"Seriously, if this is a lover's quarrel, I'll come back la—"
"Cas!" Ophelia and Draco yelled simultaneously.
"Aw, you even yell in unison."
Ophelia grabbed her quill and a blank roll of parchment, then took Cassius's arm and tugged him to the common room entrance. "Okay, we're leaving."
"Don't get caught," Draco called after them.
"Who do you think we are?" Cassius hollered back.
Outside of the Slytherin entrance, Cassius gave Ophelia a pointed look. "Sooo, what was that abo—"
"No."
Cassius pantomimed zipping his lips and throwing the key.
"Now let's go before we get caught," said Ophelia.
They cautiously walked through the dungeons until they reached the top of the steps that exited the entrance hall. Cassius peaked his head to observe the Hall, checking for any Professors or Filch. "We're clear," he whispered.
In front of them was the Goblet of Fire placed in the center of the hall. Rather plain and unimposing, it was hard to believe that the object was a powerful magical artefact. True to Dumbledore's promise of an Age Line, a thin golden circle was traced on the floor with a ten feet radius of the goblet.
"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this Cassius?"
Cassius met Ophelia's eyes, a seriousness to them that he only saw on occasion now. Ever since she came to Hogwarts, Ophelia let go of some of the layers to the pureblood persona she had built over the years. He grinned. "Hey, I'm only entering my name. There's probably a seven percent chance that it's going to be me."
"That's still a chance."
Cassius took her by the shoulders. "Toshi Yoshi, I'll promise you now, that if I am selected, I'll do everything in my power to try and not do anything stupid to get myself severely injured, or worse, killed."
Ophelia smiled, he hadn't called her by that nickname in years. "Okay, Katsudon. If you insist."
He proceeded to flick her on the head. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that!"
"We agreed that it was better than calling you Tuna or Bonito Flakes all the time!"
"And I'll never forgive Mother and Father for naming me after a fish."
They quietly burst into laughter, it was an unfortunate coincidence that Katsuo meant victorious, but it also literally translated to skipjack tuna.
"We're getting distracted! Parchment," said Cassius. Ophelia handed him the roll of parchment she brought and he ripped off a piece.
"Quill," he ordered. She gave Cassius one of her self-inking quills she purchased on their last trip to Japan.
With flourishing cursive, he carefully wrote Cassius Warrington — Hogwarts. "Got to make it look good for when Dumbledore reads it," Cassius said.
"Obviously," she replied.
Cassius was about to step into the golden circle, however, they were interrupted by a sound coming from the entrance to the kitchen corridor. A familiar boy with tousled brown hair and Hufflepuff robes emerged into the entrance hall.
"Cedric Diggory, sneaking around past curfew? What has the world come to?" Cassius teased.
Cedric's face reddened. "I was hoping I would be the only one putting their name in tonight."
"How Slytherin of you, Cedric," said Cassius.
Diggory joined Ophelia and Cassius. "Being friends with you does have an effect."
"Friends? I didn't know you and Diggory were close," Ophelia said.
"I have other friends outside of Slytherin just like you, Ophy. Speaking of which, does Draco know that you're friends with Gryffindor's golden boy?"
"Harry Potter?" Diggory questioned, to which Cassius gave him a not-so-subtle smirk.
"The one and only. And what a scandal it is. Best friend to Draco Malfoy, Slytherin royalty herself, and she's fraternizing with his archenemy?" Cassius said dramatically.
She rolled her eyes. "Please don't listen to him, Diggory. He's exaggerating. Yes, I've spoken with Potter a few times over the years. And yes, Draco may not know that I'm cordial with him, but it's painfully cliche that he still holds a grudge against Potter and Gryffindor in general. I have very strong opinions on the flaws of the Hogwarts sorting process, but I digress."
"Your reputation precedes you, Warrington. And please, call me Cedric."
"Ophelia," she paused, "I have a reputation? Good things, I hope?"
Cedric and Cassius briefly glanced at each other. Consistent with her friends' assessment of her, Ophelia's romantic awareness was practically nonexistent, something Cassius was grateful for. In Slytherin house, everyone knew that Ophelia was unavailable, to say the least. In tandem with the influence Cassius held in Slytherin, they knew not to make a move on Ophelia. The other houses, on the other hand, weren't privy to that knowledge.
Moreso now than in the past, Ophelia involuntarily drew attention to herself. An enigma, the outsider's perspective of Ophelia was a model Hogwarts student. Attractive, smart, kind on occasion, a star Quidditch player, and respected by Professors. Ophelia was practically the antithesis of a 'stereotypical' Slytherin.
"Good things," Cedric reassured her.
"Now Cedric, I hope you're not friends with me just to get close to my sister," Cassius taunted.
Cedric blushed once again. "Oh no! I mean, you're probably lovely Ophelia, but I'm actually dating Cho Chang. We're keeping it kind of secret for now. You know how rumours circulate here."
Unlike the Gryffindor or Hufflepuff Quidditch teams, the Ravenclaw and Slytherin teams were predominantly male. So Ophelia and Cho became close in the past two years. Having more in common than just Quidditch, Ophelia would consider Cho a somewhat close friend, so she already knew that they were dating. "Really? I'm happy for the two of you," Ophelia said with a smile.
"I believe we've been testing our luck, time to put this thing in," Cassius waved his slip of parchment in the air.
The Hufflepuff groaned. "I was so nervous about sneaking out that I forgot to bring mine."
"Here," Ophelia offered her parchment and quill to him.
"Thank you so much."
Once Cedric finished and tore his parchment, both he and Cassius stepped across the Age Line.
"After you," Cassius held up an arm, motioning to the goblet.
Cedric took a deep breath, then dropped his slip into the blue-white flames, the flame briefly burned bright red and sparked when the parchment made contact. "Woah."
Cassius followed suit, the flame burning red bright and fast. He turned to Cedric and offered a hand. "Best of luck to us! If it's not me, I'm hoping that it's you Diggory."
The Hufflepuff snorted. He firmly shook Cassius's hand. "And I'm hoping that if it's not me then it's you, Warrington."
"I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your moment, but we should go," Ophelia warned Cassius and Cedric.
Cassius and Ophelia hastily made their way back to the common room, even though the likelihood of them getting into trouble in the dungeons was minuscule. Even though Severus would never admit it, they were his favorites.
Inside the common room, Cassius and Ophelia were surprised to see Draco still there, now asleep. His book lay across his chest, slowly rising and falling with his deep breaths.
"You go ahead, I'll wake him up," said Ophelia.
Cassius wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
"Cassius," Ophelia said tiredly.
"I'm only joking."
She hesitated. "Since I told the girls earlier today, I should tell you too. I think I like him, Cas," she said in a low voice.
Cassius stared into his sister's eyes. When she wanted to, Ophelia was rather emotive when it came to something like happiness, anger, or boredom. However, she was hardly the type to be emotionally vulnerable. From her earnest expression, Cassius knew that Ophelia truly meant it.
With a gentle smile on his face, he took Ophelia into his arms and hugged her. "I won't say anything. Even when you're absolutely sure. It's your call, Ophy."
She snaked her arms around him, hugging him back. "Thank you. Now stop making this so serious! The world isn't going to end because of the potential of Draco and me getting together."
"Ooo, already referencing yourself as an item, I see?"
Ophelia shoved Cassius out of their embrace. "Moment's over! Go to bed, champion."
"I can get used to the sound of that."
"With how brazen you are sometimes, I wonder why you aren't in Gryffindor."
"Dearest sister, you know me better than anyone else. You're not the only member of our family playing a role. Or the only one with ulterior motives."
She cocked an eyebrow. Where Ophelia was all open about her future plans, she couldn't deny that Cassius was rather hushed about his. One thing was for certain, Cassius wanted Thalia in it.
"If there's one thing we've learned from Severus, keep your cards close to your chest. Good night, Ophy."
Now alone, Ophelia walked to the sitting area and knelt beside the couch, now at eye level with Draco. It had been a while since she had last seen Draco with such a peaceful expression. He always had a trace of either with a smirk or a sneer, so he hardly relaxed his features. The dying fire lit his face with flickering shadows, but it hardly bothered Draco enough to wake him.
Ophelia's eyebrows knitted together. She wasn't sure when her feelings for Draco began. It definitely wasn't when she saved him from a hippogriff last year. Or when he accidentally set fire to her favorite dress last Christmas. But there was definitely something more between them than there was in the past. Yet Ophelia didn't want things to change. And if that meant denying her feelings for a little longer, she was fine with that.
Draco felt his body being shaken. "Draco, wake up you big lug."
He slowly opened his eyes and was met with a familiar sight. In the past, Ophelia would talk about how much she disliked her eyes. Poopoo brown was what she always called them. She was wrong though. Her eyes were warm and full of life, strong and unrelenting. Draco was sure when his feelings for Ophelia began.
28 December 1993
Malfoy Manor
"Ouf!" Draco fell onto his back, his face covered with a snowball Ophelia threw.
Ophelia's laughter filled the cold winter day. Her laugh was ever so contagious, Draco couldn't help but join her, despite Ophelia beating the life out of him via snow. Draco heard the crunching sound of snow draw nearer, a hand appearing in his peripherals. Reaching out to take Ophelia's hand, Draco gazed at his best friend.
Time stopped.
Those eyes. The sun had begun to peek through the clouds and the rays of sun hit her eyes making the dark brown turn into the color of pure honey. It reminded him that she liked to take her tea with honey instead of sugar, a sweet chance of fate.
Fuck, you've got to be kidding me.
"Draco? Are you gonna get up or not?"
Taken out of the moment, Draco was brought back to the present and he took her hand. She pulled him up and he brushed snow off of his coat. But he couldn't help but look at Ophelia yet again. He was seeing her in a new light, figuratively and literally.
She was his best friend for goodness sake. The same girl that constantly teased, hit, and bothered the living shit out of him. But she was also the girl that inspired him every day to be better than the sum of his parts. To be more than the person that he was expected to be. Looking at Ophelia—her honey eyes, dark hair, and flushed cheeks contrasting the bright, white winter day—Draco knew that to him, this girl was more than his best friend.
As they walked back to the manor, Ophelia rambled on about something bothersome about Cassius or classes. Draco couldn't remember the exact details anymore. When they reached the manor, Draco noticed that the warmth from the fire didn't change how he felt. A fire was burning inside of him and everything had a new meaning.
Draco never really liked gingerbread, but the color and the scent reminded him of Ophelia now. It was bold, bright, and full of spice. Versatile and adaptable, how could it not remind him of her? And the hot chocolate he thought was too sweet before. It was now rich and velvety, like the sound of her laugh. Why did everything remind him of her? Was it just him, or was the world more bright?
So while they sat there in his kitchen, eating gingerbread and drinking hot chocolate, Draco savored every bit of that moment, wanting to capture it and put it in a snow globe. Maybe winter was his favorite season.
Perhaps it was cliche, falling for his best friend. He was the devastatingly mediocre Draco Malfoy. Someone like him would only bring Ophelia down. She was meant to be free, galavanting the world as a photographer or curse-breaker or Quidditch star or whatever the hell she wanted to be. His fate was already written in ink, destined to follow his father and his father before him. Down the dark, twisted path to continue the cycle, no end in sight.
If he was a little braver. Stronger. Draco would break that pattern of the fate set for him. But he wasn't. Not yet. So the only thing he could do was bring happiness into Ophelia's life; he couldn't care less about his own happiness when it came to her. And if that meant never letting her know that he liked her, he was fine with that.
31 October 1994
Harry, Hermione, and Ron entered the candlelit Great Hall, it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. From behind them, Ophelia and her friend, the older Greengrass, rushed by them, in a hurry to the Slytherin table. In passing the trio heard a portion of their conversation.
"Theo and I bet ten galleons each against Draco and Blaise that Diggory becomes Hogwarts champion," said Ophelia.
"Didn't your brother put his name in?" asked Greengrass.
Ophelia let out a melodic laugh. "It doesn't mean I won't support him! But the odds are most definitely not in his favor."
Sitting down, Ron let out a gasp. "So the rumour was true! Warrington did put his name in."
Fred and George—clean-shaven again—seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well. "Really?" said Fred.
"He's an alright bloke, I guess—" said George.
"But we can't have a Slytherin champion, can we?" Fred continued.
"We hope it's Angelina," George concluded.
"So do I!" said Hermione. "Well, we'll soon know! Also, ten galleons each for a bet? Rich people." She shook her head.
Fred and George perked at the sound of money and began a hushed conversation.
The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was their second feast in two days, everyone in the Hall simply wanted the plates to clear and to hear who had been selected as champions.
At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please come up and go through into the next chamber," Dumbledore indicated the door behind the staff table, "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it plunging them into a state of semidarkness, the Goblet of Fire now the only light in the Hall. The flames inside the goblet suddenly turned red. Sparks began to fly from it. The next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it. Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length so that he could read it by the light of the flames.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and a lanky Durmstrang boy to his left embraced Krum into a bear hug. He then walked along the staff table and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.
"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"
The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. The second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.
"The champion for Beauxbatons. . .is Fleur Delacour!"
"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted.
Despite sitting with the Slytherins for breakfast and lunch that day, the four recognizable Beauxbatons students sat with the rest of their delegation for a unified school spirit. The girl who resembled a Veela avidly spoke to the girls beside her, Warrington's girlfriend and the brunette from the World Cup. She gracefully got to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.
"Oh look, they're all quite excited," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. They were all eagerly speaking in French with one another.
"Maybe she was one of their favorites, like Krum," said Harry.
When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, quietness fell again.
And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip, Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion. . .is Cassius Warrington!"
A deafening silence washed over the hall, different from the anticipation from earlier. The chance of a Slytherin champion was close to none. All of the applicants were from the other three houses, except for Warrington and one seventh-year Slytherin.
It was comical, the polarized reaction from the opposite ends of the hall. Every single Slytherin had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping. But the Gryffindors on the other side were nearly paralyzed with shock.
The others from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw didn't know how to react, save for the sixth-years and some seventh-year students in those houses. They knew Cassius Warrington well enough to know that he was not your run-of-the-mill Slytherin, so they politely applauded along with the rest of the Slytherins. Surprising many Hogwarts students, Cedric Diggory—arguably the most favored student in the running—was one of the louder supporters outside of Slytherin.
"No!" Ron yelled, but nobody heard him except Harry; the uproar from across the hall was too great. Warrington quickly spoke to Malfoy and his sister then made his way past them and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table.
The moment was so minuscule, and if you weren't watching her, you wouldn't have noticed. Ophelia looked at Malfoy with a worried expression, but just as quickly as it appeared, she was back to enthusiastically celebrating with the rest of her house.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real—"
But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.
The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.
No, Harry thought, please no.
A pit began to grow in his stomach. Throughout Harry's entire duration of being at Hogwarts, trouble seemed to follow him, or he found trouble. This year was supposed to be different. The parameters taken should have made it impossible.
Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out, "Harry Potter."
A/N: I recently watched one of my favorite childhood movies (Flipped) and wow did that give me so much inspiration with this chapter!
I think everything has finally been set up, so the fun can now begin :)
Also thank you so much for the reviews! Those are always really nice encouragements to continue writing hehe
Next week: How did Ophelia's "friendship" with Harry begin? I'll just say it might have involved a talk about polyjuice potion. Just maybe
Contains content from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Chapter 16: The Goblet of Fire