Disclaimer: I do not support Rowling's views. All Harry Potter characters and the Wizarding World, belong to her.
A/N: Hello! I'm soooo sorry this chapter is a week late, forgive me (T.T)
A small life update, ya girl is graduating uni this week! I've been so busy with finals but I had to get this chapter uploaded because it was well overdue. I hopefully will be able to write more over the summer (fingers crossed)
If anyone would like to listen to the playlists I listen to while writing/songs that give me inspiration, check out my profile and use my linktree URL!
Now, onto the fic!
31 July 1991
Diagon Alley
"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts."
Harry craned his head up to look at Hagrid, he did look rather ill. Harry complied and entered the shop alone.
Before he could even ask where to go, a petite, smiling witch dressed in all mauve greeted him. "Welcome to my shop! Hogwarts, dear? Another young man is being fitted up just now, in fact."
In the back, a boy with a pale complexion and white-blond hair was standing on a footstool while another witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to the boy, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to size.
"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"
Harry smiled, excited to speak with another student. A wizard his age. "Yes."
"My parents are next door buying my books," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them and my friends to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll coerce Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."
Harry had the distinct feeling that this boy had a similar quality to Dudley.
"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.
"No," said Harry.
"Play Quidditch at all?"
"No," Harry said again. He desperately wanted to ask the boy a question of clarification, but he didn't want to seem like he didn't know anything.
"I do. Play it all the time with my friend and her brother and his friends. Cassius would never end his torment if I'm not picked to play for our house when the time comes. Know what house you'll be in yet?"
"No," Harry mumbled, increasingly being more disheartened the more the boy spoke.
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin. All our family has been—imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
What's a Hufflepuff? "Mhm," Harry said instead.
"I say, look at that man!" the boy suddenly said, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.
Harry smiled, happy to finally have something to contribute. "That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts."
"Huh, I've heard of him from Cassius. He's the gamekeeper or something like that. Takes care of the school grounds," said the boy.
Harry looked at him, surprised at the boy's lack of arrogance. "Yeah, that's right."
The boy furrowed his brows. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"
Harry's blood ran cold. Growing up, he was bullied often for not having parents. Maybe it'll be different here. "They're, um, dead."
"Oh, sorry," said the blond, candor in his tone. "They were our kind, weren't they?"
"They were a witch and wizard if that's what you mean."
The boy nodded his head. "Good. My father says that they shouldn't let the other sort in, says they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine that. He thinks they should keep it in the old wizarding families." The boy lowered his voice. "But I must admit, Muggles make really good music and films."
Before Harry could even begin to question the boy, the other witch said, "That's you done, my dear."
The boy hopped down from the footstool. "Thank you, ma'am." He turned back to Harry. "What's your surname, any—" But he stopped midsentence, beginning to chuckle under his breath instead.
Harry followed the boy's line of sight. Outside of the shop, an older boy and a girl around their age were waving and making funny faces through the window.
"I've gotta go, I'll see you at Hogwarts then!" the boy blurted. He shrugged off the fitted robes, grabbed the discarded robes on the seat near him, and rushed out.
When the door opened, the girl's voice, clear and lithe, entered the store. "You were taking forever, Dra! If Fortescue's is out of strawberry shortcake flavor, then you'll have to pay for all of our ice creams."
"He was busy making a friend, Lia. Our Dra has blossomed into a beautiful swan in terms of sociability," the older boy said, his voice boomed with a warm timbre.
The door began to close, but the girl must have said something funny, she and the older boy were laughing. Even from where Harry was standing, he could see the blond boy's cheeks turn pink.
Harry laughed. If this was what this new life had to offer, he was more than excited to be a part of it, he was ecstatic. Not even a day ago, he was Harry Potter, Dudley's orphan cousin. Now he was Harry, a boy with a future.
A boy with a second chance.
Before they turned the corner, the girl looked directly at him, and he saw her face for the first time. Kind eyes and a dazzling smile on her face, it was as if she knew how happy he felt.
Lia. Huh.
25 December 1994
"No way!"
"I thought Ophelia Warrington was going with Krum?"
"Who's that with Krum, then?"
"Is that—"
"Hermione Granger?"
"Then that means…"
Draco tuned out everyone, his entire being focused on the champions entering the Great Hall. In a normal situation, Granger being Viktor's date would be more shocking, but Slytherin royalty on the arm of Harry Potter took precedence. Even more so that said Slytherin was the sister of the other Hogwarts champion.
His eyes followed Ophelia's every move. Every step she took away from him, the faster his heart raced and the more agitated he became. It really had to be Potter, didn't it? Salazar, even Terry Boot would've been better. She had an emotional connection to Boot at one point.
But Potter? He was a nuisance. The stupid boy who had to live. A complete, total—
"Draco?"
Kaia stopped waving her hand in front of Draco's face, drawing him out of his thoughts.
"What is it?" Draco grumbled, his eyes still on Ophelia as Potter drew out a chair for her. She gave Potter an appreciative smile. The constant doubt he had settled in again.
Wait. Does she actually like him?
The thought quickly subsided when her eyes fell past Potter, onto Draco. That soft smile turned up into a mischievous smirk which he knew all too well. To make matters worse, she even had the audacity to wink at him. Goading him to make a move.
He wasn't even sure if he imagined what he saw until Kaia began giggling beside him. "She sure is something, isn't she?"
"Ophelia?" Draco asked.
Kaia nodded. "If I didn't know she was younger, I would've thought she and Cassius were twins. The one thing that reminds me that she is fourteen is this absurd situation the two of you have."
Draco shook his head in amusement. "I'm sorry I'm an awful date."
She shrugged. "I was doing everyone a favor, to be honest. It was either I go with you, or you take the risk of breaking someone's heart. Merlin forbidden someone liked you, then you abandon them halfway through the night to be with Ophelia."
He glanced back at Ophelia one last time before leading Kaia to a table with the other Slytherins.
If it's a game that she wants to play, then game on. I've spent more than enough time standing on the sidelines.
"Well, Harry, good show so far. Draco is livid," Ophelia whispered.
Harry grimaced. "That's a good thing?"
"Absolutely," Cassius said conspiratorially, leaning into her to join their conversation.
Thalia perked up. "Are we talking about why you're here with Potter?" she asked in French. Sitting with the judges—or better yet Madame Maxime and Karkaroff in particular—the foreign students had to keep up their act. Across the table, Viktor had to speak in broken English with Hermione, but the Gryffindor and Viktor found it more amusing than worrisome.
Harry was eager to ask her what Thalia just said since his name was mentioned, but he was unfortunately seated next to Percy Weasley. Head Boy Weaselbee promptly began to boast to Harry about his newly appointed position as Barty Crouch's personal assistant.
"Let's just say, Draco and I are playing a sort of game, right now. I've set up the pieces, now it's his turn to decide to make a move or let the time run out," Ophelia replied in French.
Being the only one excluded, Roger Davies found an opening. "Warrington, I didn't know you could speak French. When did you learn?"
Cassius spoke before she had the chance, enjoying every opportunity to either embarrass or compliment her.
Hopefully, he's not too annoyed about the baby blanket comment.
"My brilliant sister is fluent in Japanese, English, French, Greek, and Mandarin. She's also proficient in Bulgarian, Macedonian, Cantonese, and Spanish. But that's only the ones I can remember," Cassius declared proudly.
The latter then, thank goodness. She suppressed the urge to tease and opted for a practiced smile. "And to answer the question that Cassius failed to give a proper reply, we both began to learn French when we were kids. Maybe when I was four and he was six?"
"Exactement! She's more talented than I," Cassius joked.
"You're being modest. Your Cantonese and Spanish are better than mine. Not to mention your German and Thai," she retorted.
She was going to elaborate on the topic, but she realized that the entire table, including their Headmasters, was paying attention to them now. Considering the carefully curated persona she and Cassius created for the public, everyone knew everything and nothing about the Warrington's. From the expressions of the other students at their table, it was more than a surprise that she and Cassius were polyglots, especially at their age.
"I hardly believe mine and my brother's language ability is an interesting topic for Christmas dinner. Now, dinner, that is certainly more appropriate, isn't it?" Ophelia asked. She picked up a small menu that was lying on the golden plate in front of her. "Hmm, all of these options sound marvelous!" she exclaimed, changing the subject easily.
"Well said, Miss Warrington," Dumbledore concurred, his eyes twinkling. He looked carefully down at his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!" Pork chops and a modest serving of vegetables appeared on Dumbledore's plate.
Ophelia took note of Dumbledore's newfound interest in her. Was this what it was like to be associated with Harry?
"Turkey," Ophelia enunciated. A turkey dinner materialized on her plate.
A comfortable atmosphere fell over the table as everyone began to enjoy their meals. That was until Cassius picked the last brussel sprout from her plate.
"Really, Ni-san?" she questioned in Japanese. Maybe revealing a part of their childhood education was a wise move on their part.
Cassius's mouth lifted into a lopsided grin. "Toshi-chan, you know that I like them." He pushed his plate towards her. "Here, you can have some of my pasta," he said, continuing to speak in their first language.
"And you know that I prefer white sauce over red sauce." Nonetheless, she twirled her fork and took some of his pasta bolognese.
Hm, it kind of tastes familiar.
It wasn't until she looked at her brother, who was attempting to widen his eyes and pulling on one of his ears, did she remember why the dish was familiar.
They were drawn out of their conversation by Karkaroff's commanding voice bellowing, "Now, now, Viktor! Don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"
The usually stoic Viktor appeared sheepish at his headmaster's words.
Dumbledore smiled. "Igor, all this secrecy, one would almost think you didn't want visitors."
At this point, all the guests at their table were paying attention to the headmasters' quiet stand-off.
"Well, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, "we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"
Ophelia had an inkling that Karkaroff's words alluded to more than protecting just his school's secrets.
"Oh, I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," said Dumbledore amicably. "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turn on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon—or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."
Beside her, Harry snorted into his plate of goulash. She nudged him with her elbow, only making him laugh more. Although she also found this side of Dumbledore different from her preconceived notions of the man, she felt that this grandfatherly demeanor was a front. His kind face made her more uneasy than Karkaroff's brute exterior. She then considered what Dumbledore said, ignoring the polite tone that laced those words.
A room that appeared when he needed it. It couldn't be?
The foreign students, Hermione, and Harry didn't register Dumbledore's words, finding the story no more than an anecdote made by an old man. However, Roger, Cassius, and even Percy Weasley were pondering over Dumbledore's story. The Room of Requirement wasn't necessarily a secret, but a Hogwarts rite of passage. Before she came to Hogwarts, Ophelia had asked Cassius and his friends if he knew where the room was, but they wouldn't budge. The existence of the room was shrouded with mystery. There was an unofficial rule that if you knew where it was, you wouldn't tell anyone where it was. What's the use of a secret room if it wasn't a secret? Since Dumbledore more than confirmed that the room was real, Ophelia was determined to find it.
"Now, how about dessert?" Dumbledore wondered.
Their empty plates were promptly replaced by another menu.
Fleur quickly uttered, "Bûche de Noël." A generous slice of the classic French Yule Log appeared in front of Fleur, delight in her eyes.
They even have honningkager and risalamande," Ophelia said to Cassius with a grin.
"I was wondering what those were," Harry pondered, a Christmas Pudding already in front of him.
Ophelia pressed her lips together, stopping a burst of laughter from leaving her. As much as Harry and Draco may hate each other, they had similar taste buds. Without fail, Draco would always choose a British Christmas pudding amongst a large array of desserts.
"Nordic Christmas desserts. Most likely to cater to the Durmstrang palate," Ophelia replied. "Honningkager."
Two chocolate-covered, heart-shaped cakes popped up. As she ate, Harry looked at her plate with great interest. "Do you want some?" said Ophelia.
Harry shook his head. "No, I couldn't!"
"Potter, I thought we were already past the coy stage," she warned him lightheartedly.
"We are, it's, well…" His attention slipped for a second too long, allowing her to connect the dots.
"Is it Draco? You've never cared about his opinion before, what's changed?" she inquired.
He stared at her with the most disbelief he's had all night. "His pretentiousness and bigotry are nothing compared to how he acts when you're involved. You weren't there to see him after I cursed you with that boils jinx, I thought he was either going to pass out or curse the daylight out of me. Right now, he really looks like the latter."
As much as she wanted to peek at Draco, she denied herself the fulfillment of seeing Draco slowly descend into madness. "It'll only get worse from here, so just take some of the bloody cake, Harry," Ophelia laughed. "Don't tempt me in trying to feed it to you because I'm certain that will definitely have Draco storming up here."
Harry promptly took some of the cake, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Good, isn't it?" Ophelia asked.
"Why is it so good?" Harry mumbled through his chews.
"Traditionally, the dough is usually prepped three months in advance and fermented over time. But I personally like it because it has honey. Oh! And the dark chocolate coating," she said.
Harry mumbled his approval. He pushed his plate towards her. "Do you want some of my pudding?"
Ophelia bit her lip to stop the urge to comment on his terrible innuendo. Blaise, Pansy, and Tracey were terrible influences. "Thanks, but no thanks."
"How can you not like pudding? It's quintessential to Christmas," Harry frowned.
Cassius laughed. "That's because she hates dried fruit. Currants, sultanas, raisins—"
She interrupted him. "And you hate them just as much as I do." Ophelia eyed Cassius's plate, a serving of risalamande in front of him.
Her brother smirked, pointing a spoon at her. "Quite right, Ophy. Sorry, Harry," Cassius shrugged then turned back to Thalia.
Ophelia cocked an eyebrow at Harry, amused to see him grumble at their distaste for his preferred dessert. She nudged her shoulder against his. "Cheer up! Don't want your pud to get cold," her voice laced with her signature sardonic humor.
Harry narrowed his eyes and took a defiant bite, yet his 'icy' attitude fell when she began to laugh.
After desserts, the Christmas feast came to an end, so Dumbledore cleared the room. The tables returned to their place along the walls of the hall. He then conjured a raised platform where the Slytherin table usually was, a set of musical instruments appearing with it. From the room off the staff table, the Weird Sisters trooped out and onto the stage.
Dumbledore did get the Weird Sisters to perform.
While the attention of the rest of the students was on the band, she tapped Harry on the shoulder, but he was engrossed by the scene before him. "Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"We have to dance," Ophelia said delight edging in her voice.
He blanched, realization settling in. "Right."
She took him by the hand and led him down to the dance floor, the main light in the room illuminating only the champions and their partners. As she pulled him a proper distance away from the other champions, Harry tripped over his dress robes in the process. From somewhere in the Hall, snickers filled the air under the sound of the Weird Sisters tuning their instruments.
Harry quickly flushed at his mistake, fidgeting with his dress robes at once.
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about that. I'm pretty sure over half of this school doesn't even know how to dance."
Harry eyed her hand on him, and he turned an even deeper shade of pink. "Thanks for the words of comfort, but I'm in the same boat."
"Did McGonagall not teach you Gryffindors?" Ophelia asked.
The Weird Sisters struck up a sweeping waltz.
"I'm a slow learner," Harry stammered.
"Just follow my lead, then. You trust me, don't you?"
"Must you always ask?" Harry replied.
She took one of his hands and placed it around her waist, then placed his other hand in her own, tightly grasping it. "Certainly."
She took the first step forward, Harry following suit. Every few steps Ophelia whispered which direction they were to go.
"Bloody hell, this is awful," Harry mumbled, stepping on her toe once again.
"Eyes up, Potter," Ophelia remarked.
Harry whipped his head up, nearly head-butting her in the process. "Sorry!"
She dodged his head with grace and covered his error by sending herself into a spin.
"Are you good at everything?" Harry said with awe.
"If I'm being honest? Probably," Ophelia laughed lightly. It was fun to dance like she didn't know how to dance. She felt like she was seven again, clumsily waltzing across a dance floor.
Soon enough, more people had joined the dance floor. Dumbledore and Madame Maxime waltzed by them. She and Harry chuckled at the height difference between the headteachers.
Moody awkwardly shuffled a hasty two-step with Professor Sinistra. "Nice socks, Potter," Moody grumbled as they passed, his magical eye staring through Harry's robes.
"Thanks, Dobby the house-elf knitted them for me," Harry gushed.
Ophelia stopped herself from snapping at Moody as he gave her a quick once over.
"I didn't know you and Moody were close," Ophelia whispered when Moody was out of their hearing range.
Harry raised a shoulder in a shrug. "Kinda. He's been a great help while I was preparing for the last task."
Interesting.
"And I see you've been down to the kitchens," Ophelia drawled. She immediately chastised herself. She sounded particularly like a Malfoy just then.
Now I have Draco on my mind, wonderful. She kept her eyes on Harry even though she wanted to scan the dance floor to see if Draco was dancing with Kaia.
"You've seen Dobby? But how would you even know him–" Harry stopped at the questionable raise of Ophelia's brow. "Right, Dobby used to work for the Malfoy's."
Harry guided her into a twirl, getting the hang of dancing now. "You know, the Express wasn't the first time I saw you and Malfoy," Harry said nonchalantly.
"It wasn't?"
He shook his head, smiling. "No, it was at Madam Malkin's shop the summer before first year. Malfoy and I were getting fitted for robes at the same time. Then he rushed out when he saw you and Cassius outside of the store."
She racked her memories for that moment. It was the last day she and Cassius had with Draco before they went back to Japan until the Malfoy summer gala. There was a strange and loud thought Ophelia heard that day. So filled with hope and sorrow from someone that was too young to feel that way.
What was it? Her mind finally recalled the boy she saw through a window. How did she not connect that they were one and the same with the boy that was now in her arms?
The boy with a future. Of course, it was Potter.
"Draco wouldn't stop talking about the boy he met. Only Merlin knows how many letters he sent about that five, maybe ten-minute conversation," she said. "He never told me that it was you. He was probably too embarrassed to admit it after the Express incident."
Harry recoiled just in time for the final note from a cello to linger in the air. His withdrawal from Ophelia's arms appeared natural to everyone but her.
Applause filled the Hall. Ophelia bent into a lighthearted curtsy. However, Harry bowed a few seconds too late, still reeling from her words.
"Now that wasn't so bad, was it Potter?"
"All thanks to you," said Harry. "Not only now, but then too. I'm just as embarrassed as Malfoy for putting so much hope in that first meeting. Lia, Dra, and Cassius. Your names gave me something to look forward to during that last month I had with the Dursley's. You can imagine my disappointment when I saw this other side of Malfoy. Maybe that's why I resent him now…"
Ophelia nodded. She understood the conundrum that was Draco Malfoy better than anyone. "Because he's a terribly annoying individual?"
He chuckled. "Exactly."
She never considered it to be possible, but maybe there was a way for Harry and Draco to mend their rift.
The Weird Sisters began a new song, faster and more current than the last.
"OH! Come on, time to see your other dance moves." Ophelia pulled him closer to the stage where a crowd was already forming.
"No, you're a fan of them too?" Harry groaned.
"It's not Queen or ABBA, but it's fun regardless!" Ophelia yelled over the crowd.
"You know those bands?" Harry yelled back.
"Of course, I don't live under a rock!"
He furrowed his brows. "You're not normal, are you?" Harry hollered.
She leaned over to speak into his ear. "A Muggle can have magic, but a pureblood can't like Muggle things?"
He leaned back, at a loss for words.
"Always making you speechless. If I had a sickle for every time this happened, I'd at least have a Galleon. Which isn't a lot, but it's still something," she quipped. "Enough talking and more dancing, Potter!"
After six more rock songs, the beginning of a ballad interrupted the energetic atmosphere. Around them, those without a partner left the floor, whereas pairs coupled up to dance to the slow song. Across the dance floor, Ophelia noticed her fifth favorite male Slytherin head towards them. A smile played on her face when Blaise approached her and Harry. Blaise tapped Harry on the shoulder and Ophelia saw Harry tense up.
"Sorry, Potter, but can I steal Ophelia? There's some urgent business that she needs to attend," Blaise explained. Despite his seemingly pressing tone, Ophelia knew that there was his usual mischief behind his eyes.
"Um, sure?" said Harry.
"Does this have anything to do with Daph and Theo?" she asked in Blaise's preferred language of communication, Italian.
"Sì, Bellissima," Blaise smirked.
It's finally time to get those two idiots together too. "Meraviglioso. Can we meet up afterward, Harry?"
"Take your time! I wanted to check in with Ron anyway," said Harry, nodding over at the younger Weasley boy who was ruminating at a table nearby. It really was a waste of a good set of dress robes. "I'll see you later?"
Ophelia nodded gratefully and Harry left her with Blaise.
He led her across the Great Hall. "Isn't he just a darling?" Blaise mused.
"He's...sweet?" Ophelia said for lack of a better word.
Blaise cocked an eyebrow. "You make it sound like an insult."
"It's not! It's just that–"
"You wanted to go with Draco," Blaise finished for her.
She shrugged helplessly. "Can you blame me?"
"Draco does have a confident swagger that Potter seems to lack," Blaise remarked in support of one of his best mates.
She scoffed. "More like arrogance."
"Which is something that you love, don't deny it."
Ophelia pursed her lips. "I'm not. If anything, I'm just as arrogant and self-centered as he is. I just don't show it."
Blaise snorted. "You've got that right."
Ophelia smiled. There was no use in hiding her feelings anymore. "How is everyone else doing?"
He dropped his head back, letting out a hearty laugh. "All of us but Daph was floored when you walked in with Potter. She filled in the gaps in our knowledge. Potter asked you out on the same day as that saucy dance with Draco? From a Casanova, you're on the way to being a true femme fatale."
She playfully slapped his upper arm. "Merlin, Zabini! Never say that shit again."
He continued, ignoring her comment. "Nothing could've beaten Draco's reaction. He was more insufferable as the feast went on. Ugh, and when you had to dance with Potter? Fuck, he was fuming."
"Then everything is going to plan," Ophelia boasted.
He gasped. "You're such a tease!"
"Which is something that Dra loves. You can't deny that," she said with a grin.
Blaise wagged a finger at her. "Touché, Warrington, touché indeed."
Reaching one of the Slytherin tables, Pansy called out, "Ah, here comes the traitor of the night!"
"I missed you too, Pans," Ophelia joked.
She took a seat between Daphne and Tracey. Ophelia scanned the table. Both Draco and Theo were missing. "What about Traitors Two and Three then?" Ophelia asked.
Tracey half-heartedly shrugged. "Maybe the loo?"
Ophelia leaned over to get a better look at Tracey. Her cheeks were flushed, and it certainly wasn't because the hall was warm. "Guys, it's only 10! Please don't tell me you already finished all the firewhisky you smuggled in?"
Pansy giggled. "No, but Draco had the most!"
Ophelia's head whipped around to stare down Daphne. "Is she serious?"
Daphne winced. "Yes and no?"
"What do you mean yes and no?" Ophelia blurted.
"He drank the most, but it was just butterbeer with a splash of firewhisky. Nothing too strong to get plastered," Daphne quickly explained.
Ophelia sighed with relief. Thank Salazar. The last thing she needed was another drunk Draco making questionable choices. Especially ones that involved kissing girls that weren't her.
"Alright, stay safe, drink some water, don't do anything that I wouldn't do. Come on Blaise, we have some meddling to do," Ophelia said.
Ophelia stood to leave but was stopped by Daphne grabbing her hand. "What are the two of you planning?" Daphne questioned.
Ophelia and Blaise shared a quick look. Weeks ago, the two of them plotted a way to get Theo and Daphne together at the Yule Ball.
She pulled Daphne out of her seat and guided her towards the dance floor, Blaise trailing behind. "Let's just say that you should wait right here, and you'll know when the time is right," Ophelia advised.
Daphne eyed them suspiciously, but complied, nonetheless.
"We'll be back!" Blaise assured her.
Subject One in place, they had to find Theodore Nott.
"He's not on the dance floor," said Blaise.
"Then he's probably sitting with the Ravenclaws," Ophelia noted.
Blaise frowned. "You and he were always the closest with their lot."
"That's because we're not as stand-offish as the rest of you, ergo they aren't icy towards us," she explained.
If Ophelia was being honest, it was probably because she and Theo were almost sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin.
She pointed to a table not too far from them. "There."
"You know he's gonna know that something's up," Blaise warned.
"That's fine. If he wasn't oblivious, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. Besides, he'll thank us for this in the long run."
"You're one to talk," he murmured.
"It's the least I can do from one idiot to another," Ophelia cheered.
Theo stared at them warily as soon as she and Blaise were in the vicinity.
Blaise slipped into his flirty persona. "Sue Li, you look quite ravishing tonight! Fancy a dance?"
Sue assessed the scene from Theo's skeptical glare to Ophelia's calm smile. Sue took Blaise's hand. "Why not, Zabini?"
"I don't suppose you're going to ask me to dance too?" Theo inquired. "Lia, no!"
Ophelia forced Theo to the dance floor. Another slow song was playing again. "As an amazing friend, I believe it's a part of my duty to look out for all of the people that I care about."
Theo reluctantly wrapped his arms around her waist, accepting defeat. "And dancing is a part of your duty?"
She chuckled. "No. But giving you a reality check is."
Theo's brows knitted together. "What must be so dire that you have to draw my attention to?"
Ophelia pretended to ponder which only made Theo more impatient.
"Ophelia," Theo cautioned.
"Fine, fine! You, dear Theodore, must realize that Daphne is head over heels for you," Ophelia revealed.
He shook his head. "No, she isn't."
"Theo—"
"No. She isn't," Theo insisted.
"You know it's true. You're not as dense as I am, Theo," she declared.
Theo frowned. "But what about Blaise?"
She groaned. "When has she ever expressed interest in Blaise?"
"Well, Daph and Blaise always fool around!" he exclaimed. Yet even he seemed unconvinced by his words.
Ophelia scoffed. "Blaise acts like that with all of us. Hell, Blaise and I banter more than him and Daph do," she paused. "Do you want to know what I think?"
"What?" Theo said meekly.
"The way you feel about Daph is similar to how I felt about Draco. I was too afraid to admit that I liked him because I was scared to lose what we already have. But that's the thing. Ignoring that feeling put us more in jeopardy than facing the truth."
Ophelia peeked over Theo's shoulder. They were nearing Daphne. "Are you ready?"
"For what?"
She smiled at him, then at Daphne who noticed who Ophelia was dancing with. "To listen to your heart."
They stopped in front of Daphne and Ophelia stepped away from Theo. She looked between two of her closest friends after Draco. "You know what to do," she said, addressing both.
Theo offered a hand to Daphne. The brunette glimpsed at Ophelia. Ophelia only nodded her head in encouragement. Soon enough, they took to the dance floor together.
Behind Ophelia, a voice called out, "About time they got together."
Ophelia turned to find her brother standing with Thalia.
"There is so much pining within your friend group, Ophy. It's like watching a bad Quidditch accident that you can't look away from," Cassius teased.
"Just like watching you try to hide being a wizard all last summer," Thalia retorted.
Ophelia bit back a laugh. It was excruciating to witness her brother fabricate lies about their past when Thalia knew they were magical for the majority of the summer.
Cassius huffed. "Sister, care for a dance? My girlfriend has been rather rude."
Thalia and Ophelia laughed at Cassius's theatrics, but she still accepted her brother's offer.
"They've played quite a few ballads already. You would think the Weird Sisters would play more of their rock songs," Ophelia mulled over aloud.
Cassius shrugged. "Maybe they're taking requests from people tonight."
An alarm rang off in her subconscious. Cassius wouldn't say something like that as an off-handed comment for nothing. "You haven't planned anything, right?"
"Me? Of course not. But I think it was about time to make up for a dance that I interrupted all those years ago," Cassius stated.
"What?" Ophelia questioned.
But before she knew it, Cassius guided her into a turn, and a sense of déjà vu ran through Ophelia.
He let go of Ophelia and another hand reconnected with her own, pulling her into a familiar set of arms.
"Draco Malfoy, to what do I own the pleasure of taking some of your time tonight?" Ophelia taunted.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him. "What happened to the bet?"
"I—"
"Hey!" she raised a warning finger at him.
He rolled his eyes.
At the forefront of her brain, she felt him try to enter her mind. Ophelia snickered under her breath. She allowed herself to reflect her thoughts into his mind. "You want to talk? Then let's find somewhere to talk."
Ophelia began to drag him out of the Great Hall. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Harry at the refreshments table, giving her a look. She sent him a smile and a thumbs-up.
Draco scoffed at her reaction, to which she only quickened her steps.
Storming up the Grand Staircase, Ophelia led them to an empty alcove on the Second Floor. The only source of light was the moonlight drifting through the windows along the dark hallway.
Ophelia finally released her hold on Draco, pacing away from him. The soft clicks of her heels echoed throughout the hall. She couldn't face him, her nerves starting to get the best of her. Ophelia had been waiting for weeks for Draco to make a move to speak to her. Now that he finally did, she was scared he was going to reject her even though she one hundred and ten percent knew he wouldn't.
If someone had told her at the beginning of the term that she would act like a timid girl, afraid to talk to her best friend, Ophelia would have laughed in their face. He was just Draco. Her best friend. Her confidante. The same boy she knew since she was four. The same boy she teased endlessly.
The same boy she had been falling for. Only she was too short-sighted to notice until a few months ago when Moody put her in a tizzy and made her reevaluate her whole relationship with Draco.
"Well?" Ophelia asked.
Draco sighed. "Can you please look at me?"
Ophelia wanted to laugh. Of course, the first thing he would say in over a month was to look at him. Why did she never notice that he only had eyes for her? She faced him and leaned against the wall behind her, crossing her arms over her chest.
Draco looked her dead in the eyes. "Do you like him?"
She must have been too convincing. The look on his face was like a dagger to her heart. After everything Ophelia put him through, he still put her and her feelings first. In the end, it hurt her just as much as it probably hurt him. "Potter?" Ophelia whispered.
Draco nodded.
If he really did like her as he did in his memory that she saw, then now was the time to test him. "What if I did? Why should you care?" Ophelia asked.
"I don't care," he said airily.
A clench in his jaw betrayed him.
Ophelia shifted her weight and took a step closer to Draco. She eyed the distance between them. Four more steps. "Tsk, why are you lying, Draco?"
He puffed his chest out. "Ha, and why would I be lying?"
How had it taken her this long to realize that he felt the same way she did? Why did it take her to go through his mind to find out how he really felt about her? Had she feigned ignorance for that long? When did they stop being just friends?
When did she fall?
"Because you don't want me to be with Harry," said Ophelia, cutting straight to the point.
Taking him by surprise, Draco sharply breathed in. "Why wouldn't I? As your best friend, I want you to be happy."
"Even if it's Potter?" Ophelia shot back.
"Even if it's Potter," Draco repeated.
She took another step closer to Draco.
Three.
"Well, I don't believe you."
Draco dipped his head, coaxing her to continue.
She clasped her hands behind her back and began to rock back and forth on her heels. "I think that you're afraid to admit the truth."
Draco snickered. "Truth?"
"That you don't want to be friends," she said innocently. Yet there was hardly anything innocent about her accusation.
He staggered back. "Why would you even think that?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Because it's written all over your face, Draco."
"Since you're so confident, what else does my face say?" He looked at her with a playful smirk, tongue in cheek. But it was so easy to see through him.
Ophelia tried not to read him the same way she read everybody else. She was always able to hear everyone's mind, but she created mental blocks to prevent hearing the minds of those that mattered to her the most. She sometimes slipped when it came to the Slytherins, but Ophelia was certain to maintain that boundary with her family, Severus, and Draco. She thought she already knew everything about Draco Lucius Malfoy, yet they had both been lying to each other for so long.
Even lying to myself.
"You didn't ask me to the ball because you were scared, so you asked Kaia because you thought I would be jealous. But little did you know that Harry asked me, and I said yes–"
"Lia."
"No, you're still not allowed to call me that. Not after what happened with Natalia. You hated the fact that I came to the ball with Harry. You hated that you had to watch me enter the Great Hall on his arm," she continued.
"Ophelia, that's enough."
Ophelia took another step closer, while he took another step back, his back now hugging the wall.
Two.
"You hate that I call him Harry and that I was talking and laughing with him during the feast. And to top it all off, I danced with him for the whole school to see."
"Ophelia, shut up."
"Then you and my brother orchestrated that little dance sequence to get me alone. Thalia, Theo, and Blaise were probably a part of it too now that I think about it. But obviously, that wasn't enough. So here we are." She raised her arms to gesture to their surroundings.
Draco turned his head away. "I swear if you're fucking using Legilimency right now–"
Ophelia chuckled, dropping her arms to her sides. "I don't have to. Your thoughts are as clear as the night sky is tonight, Draco."
One.
He turned back to her; mere centimeters separated them now.
Her eyes never breaking contact with his, she brushed a strand of his hair out of his face, then she settled her hand on the wall next to his head. "Maybe hate is too light of a word for how you feel? You absolutely abhor the thought of Potter and me together that I can smell the butterbeer and firewhisky on your breath."
"Ophelia, shut up or..." Draco trailed off.
She pouted, feigning benevolence. "Or what, Draco?" Her pout curled into an enigmatic smile. "Make me."
Draco's eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips, then back.
He shouldn't. Right?
Ophelia Warrington was his best friend, and he swore to himself that he wouldn't confess his feelings to her. He wouldn't pull her into the dark path that he was destined for. She was the light at the end of the tunnel that he couldn't reach. Always there but never attainable.
His plans were thwarted though. She knew that he liked her. Just like she knew everything about him. Here she was right in front of him, swathed in gentle moonlight. Rose-tinted cheeks, fire behind her eyes, and lips slightly parted. Draco could hear her taunt echo in his mind, "make me, make me, make me..."
Challenging him to do what? Shut her up with a kiss?
He couldn't. Right?
Ophelia huffed. "Draco Malfoy, I swear you can't find a hint if it's staring you in the face. Just kiss me already."
She closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his own.
Melting into her touch, Draco kissed her back. Gentle at first, then she wove her hands into his hair, deepening the kiss. Her lips had a faint taste of chocolate and mead. Did she even eat chocolate earlier? His mind was a muddled mess, an array of emotions running through him. He began to smile against her lips. Was this really happening?
Ophelia pulled away, a smirk beginning to form. "And what's got you smiling?"
Draco laughed. "Don't pretend like you can't hear what's going on in my mind."
She rested a hand against his chest, absentmindedly fiddling with his bow tie until it came undone.
He swatted her hand away. "Hey! Answer the question," he tried to say seriously, but he couldn't focus when she looked at him as if he hung the stars.
Ophelia snickered. "Really? You may be named after a star, Draco, but I hardly believe you hung them."
Her hands returned to his chest, unbuttoning the top of his shirt.
He flushed, trying to ignore the persistent girl before him. "Ophelia Warrington, stop looking at me like that!"
"Aha!" She pulled the chain of his necklace from underneath his shirt, a triumphant expression on her face. She tugged on the dragon ouroboros pendant, pulling his body closer to her. "Whatever do you mean, Mister Malfoy?"
Taking the opportunity, he flipped her over, her back now pressed against the wall. "Well, Miss Warrington," He ran his hands up and down her waist, "you have very lovely eyes."
Ophelia released her hold on his necklace, instead, she rested her arms on his shoulders, clasping her hands together behind his head. "My eyes are lovely? Are you fucking serious?" Ophelia teased.
"I'm being serious!" He chuckled. "You know, the first time I realised that I liked you was because of your eyes," Draco murmured.
He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
She smiled at his touch. "The snow globe. That was the day when you knew, wasn't it?" Ophelia questioned.
He nodded. Draco thought about that day so often over the past year, it was deeply ingrained in his memory, he had to immortalize that moment somehow.
"What about you? When did you know you liked me?" He challenged.
Ophelia pursed her lips, her eyes darting back and forth as she observed his face. "I'm not sure. You crept up on me. One day you were just my best friend. Then the next, you were my best friend that I had a crush on."
She paused.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
Ophelia shook her head. "Nothing," She giggled.
The sound of her laugh sent a wave of happiness flow through him. I really like her.
"I think it was the World Cup actually. When Cas and I first saw you. It was when I finally noticed something different about you."
"Hmm," He hummed. "Something different about me?"
She scrunched her nose in a way that made him want to kiss her again and again.
"Don't make me explain what I mean," Ophelia groaned.
He smirked. "Well, now I think you just might have to."
They were just having a conversation together. It was so normal yet foreign at the same time. Did they always banter like this? To their friends they probably did. Only then they didn't know the difference between what flirting was and was not. Now that they had a layer of intimacy that wasn't there before, it was obvious that this was what was missing. The final piece of the puzzle that they had been playing since the first day that they met.
"It was your shoulders," Ophelia grumbled under her breath.
"What was that?" He taunted.
Ophelia stepped hard on his toes.
"Ow!"
"Don't be an arse," she replied.
"Fine, but I can't make any promises."
Ophelia swiftly kissed him. "And I'm not asking you to. Besides, I don't exactly hate it when you're a bit of a tosser."
"Really?" he said with surprise, both from the quick kiss and her sharp words.
"Why else would I give you that punishment for the bet? Going to the ball with Potter? He may have asked me, but I said yes all with the intention to make you jealous. He knew I agreed to go with him even though I was just going to use him for my own selfish purpose. I was trying to push your buttons, Dra! I thought you would've cracked weeks ago, but you're giving Potter a run for his money for the Saint title."
"He doesn't even have much money, so he can have the damn title," Draco retorted.
Her melodic laugh that he loved filled the air. "Now that was what I was expecting from you."
She looked up at him. Now that he had her, why didn't he act sooner?
"Why didn't you?" Ophelia asked.
"What happened to mental boundaries?" He laughed.
She averted her gaze. "I'm sorry, your thoughts are very loud right now." Ophelia lowered her voice. "I just, I've been going mental for the past months because I was so afraid of losing you," she whispered.
Oh.
He lifted her chin, turning her attention back to him. "You could never lose me."
Ophelia buried her head into his chest with a thud. "We're totally pathetic, aren't we? This is actually happening."
Her voice was muffled, but he understood her regardless. He always did.
"It really is." He rested his head atop of hers. Without her intense stare, he had the courage to answer her question. "I didn't want to tell you that I liked you because of my father."
She drew back, confusion on her face. "Your father? What does Lucius have to do with your feelings for me?"
"Well…" Draco wasn't sure how to explain it to her. After short consideration, he opted for complete transparency. It was Ophelia. He told her practically everything. With his most treasured secret revealed, the gate to all his secrets was now open, there was no turning back now. "If the Dark Lord really does come back, I think I'm going to have to take the mark."
His words hung in the air, a stillness that wasn't there before. He could practically see the gears turning in Ophelia's brain as she processed what he had said.
"You didn't want to get close to me because if Voldemort found out you cared about me, he would use me against you?" Ophelia said, eyes ablaze.
His lips curled into a lopsided grin. "You were always too smart in my opinion."
She punched him lightly on the arm. "Draco, that was it?"
"Stop hitting me! Is this how you show your affections? It's a wonder that Boot tolerated you for that long," Draco bantered, trying to deviate her focus away from Voldemort.
"One, it's just you since you're the menace that I've somehow fallen for. Two, stop avoiding the question!"
He sighed. Nothing ever got past her when she was on a mission for an answer. "Yes. I, Draco Malfoy, wasn't truthful with my emotions because I didn't want you to get involved in You-Know-Who business."
She groaned. "I can't believe you!"
He chuckled at her aggravation. "What is it?"
Ophelia rolled her eyes. "I was always going to be a target whether you liked me or not, Dra. My family literally ran away before the Wizarding War. If he really does come back–which he probably will–we're going to be one of the first families he's going to ask for support once again. Considering the political and financial influence that my father has, Merlin only knows what's going to happen if we refuse to pick a side this time around."
Draco's mouth gaped. He never considered her family history with Voldemort. But it was clear that she had thought through her options in extensive detail as always. It was one of his favorite traits about her.
"I was trying to be honorable," Draco argued, grasping for another reason.
"When did you decide to be honorable?"
"Since you and Cas came into my life," Draco said. "Emphasis on trying."
A small smile grew on her face. "You have been trying, I can tell." Her smile faltered. "You will be expected to take the mark."
He gnawed on his cheek. "I know."
"Do you want to?" Ophelia questioned.
"No," he said as soon as the words left her mouth.
Although he grew up with his parents praising the ways of purebloods, Draco saw the fear they had when they thought he wasn't looking. The lingering stare his father had on his left arm. The mournful look his mother had when she flipped through old family photo books on the same two days every year. It wasn't until he took note of the days and cross-referenced them with his family history did he discover that those days were her sisters' birthdays.
He didn't want to live that life. There was so much that the world had to offer. Ophelia and Cassius taught him that. Their wizarding world was only a tiny part of what existed in their universe. So many things he wouldn't have considered plausible, the Muggles were able to do it without magic. Technology, film, science, electricity, traveling to space; all without magic. How could he believe himself superior if they weren't able to do those things with magic?
She raised a hand to his face, drawing him out of his thoughts. "I'll try everything that I can, so you don't take the mark."
He broke into a wry smile. "You're going to stop the Dark Lord from making me one of his lackeys?"
"Emphasis on try," Ophelia replied, echoing his words.
He kissed her forehead. "And I'm thanking you in advance for trying."
She shot him a rueful grin. "You know, the ouroboros really suits you."
He lifted the pendant, turning it over in his hand. Despite his preference for silver jewelry, the gold dragon contrasted his pale complexion. Delicate, but fierce, the dragon was consuming its tail in its mouth.
"You're always evolving and changing like an ouroboros. It's one of the things that I love about you," she said softly.
A pang of warmth was sent through him.
Ophelia continued. "We should probably head back, we've been gone for long enough. The others probably think we had sex or something." Ophelia brushed down her hair, then began to flatten his as well.
Draco flushed. She was shameless.
Ophelia held out a hand for him to take. "Come on."
He intertwined his hand with hers. "So, I can call you Lia again, right?"
She lifted their hands and kissed the top of his knuckles. "What do you think, Dra?"
"Just making sure," Draco assured, the happiest he had ever been in the past three months. "Did I mention that you look amazing tonight?"
She picked at the tulle of her dress. "I do, don't I? Doesn't the color look familiar?" Ophelia asked playfully.
Every time Draco set his eyes on her, all he wanted to do was smile. Examining her dress, he was shocked to see that it was a shade he saw in his reflection every day.
Ophelia laughed. "It's pretty uncanny, isn't it? I don't know how my mother managed to get the exact color right."
"Can you wear grey more often from now on?" he pleaded.
Ophelia squeezed his hand. "I'll think about it. If you wear Gryffindor red for a day."
Draco cringed instantly. "Never in a million years would I wear that appalling shade of red."
"So, you can keep on dreaming, darling."
I could definitely get used to the sound of that.
When she and Draco walked into the Great Hall hand in hand, their friends were the first to notice their return. As they walked over to their table, amused smirks graced their faces.
"Welcome back lovebirds," Blaise remarked. "Or at least I assume you are." Blaise nodded at Draco.
She gave Draco a once over. Once Ophelia noticed the discrepancy, she covered her mouth with her hands, stifling a laugh.
"What?" Draco asked, perplexed.
Draco looked down at himself. The top buttons of his shirt were undone along with his bowtie. "Lia!" He hastily buttoned them back up. "You knew that I looked like this. No wonder I got odd looks from the people in the entrance hall."
She took a seat beside Daphne who had a hand resting atop Theo's on the table. "It's not like we're the only couple that slipped away tonight. Didn't you hear that Fawcett from Ravenclaw and Stebbins from Hufflepuff got caught by Severus and Karkaroff? I mean come on, a rosebush? A whole castle to sneak around and you choose a place that's right off the Great Hall. Pathetic if you ask me."
Draco narrowed his eyes at her while he settled in the seat next to her, but he couldn't dispute the truth of her words. His gaze landed on the other new couple at the table. "Well, I'll be damned, Greengrass and Nott tied the knot as well?" Draco drawled.
More reserved than her and Draco, Daphne and Theo only reddened at his words.
Helping her best friend out, Ophelia diverted the attention from them. "Any other notable gossip while we were gone?"
Pansy, soberer than she was earlier in the night, perked up at the mention of gossip. "Other than you ditching Potter to leave with Draco? Weaselbee and Granger. He blew up on her because of Krum, pretty nasty. It was very entertaining," Pansy replied with twisted delight.
Ophelia shook her head in disappointment. "And to think I gifted him new dress robes for Christmas."
Draco almost spat out the water he was drinking. "You what?" Draco blurted, slamming his cup down on the table.
Blaise guffawed. "You're the reason why he wasn't wearing those hideous rags we saw on the Express at the beginning of the term!"
"Since I was going to the ball with Potter, I didn't want to be embarrassed by the way Weasley and Granger dressed," Ophelia explained.
"You helped Granger too?" Tracey said with contempt.
"That's why you were late to get ready today," Daphne realized.
"Guilty! It was my good deed for Christmas, can you blame me?" Ophelia teased.
The entire table laughed at her comment. Even the hard to crack Theo was laughing along.
Ophelia frowned. "What now?"
"The thought of you being nice for fun is too comical to not laugh at," Blaise got out between gasps.
Before she could even get out a retort, Draco came to her defense. "Lia can be nice! Sometimes…" Draco stammered.
The others burst into laughter once again.
Ophelia turned to him. "Was that you trying to support me?"
He gave her a meek shrug. "Yes?"
She patted a hand against Draco's back to comfort him. "It was a terrible, but gallant effort."
Ophelia felt her chair move from underneath her. She peeked under the table. Draco had hooked an ankle around one of the legs of the chair. He dragged her and her chair closer to him. With ease, he slung an arm around her shoulder. Draco raised his voice to address the group. "Fine, Lia isn't the nicest person, but none of us are! We're assholes and proud, aren't we?"
Ophelia rolled her eyes, not for annoyance for once, but for endearment. "Might as well say we're Slytherins and proud. Asshole and Slytherin are interchangeable."
Pansy raised a glass that Ophelia hoped was filled with something non-alcoholic. "Hear, hear!"
Ophelia looked around at her friends. The sliver of Gryffindor Tower she saw earlier was so warm, so wholesome. So foreign. As fun as it was to play around with the Gryffindors, to be carefree and optimistic, that's all it was, fun. If anything, it was like being lost in Wonderland. At the end of the day, Alice found her way back home, awake and back to reality. Reality was crude and harsh, but it was real and honest with no pretenses. The people around the table were home. Messy, problematic, and a little broken, but home.
Harry and Ron returned to the Great Hall from the rose garden. Ophelia was seated very close to Malfoy at a table near the doors with her friends.
"You, okay?" Ron asked.
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Harry replied.
"Well," Ron struggled for the right words.
Harry gently nudged him in the rib. "I knew what I was getting myself into, mate. She's mad for him. I didn't stand a chance."
Ron froze beside him.
"What?" Harry said with a laugh.
Ron poked a finger at Harry's arm, checking if Harry was himself. "Who are you and what have you done to Harry? Earlier in the garden, you didn't talk back to Snape like you usually do, and now this?"
Taking another glance at Ophelia, Harry acknowledged that he had changed since he got to know her. He was more perceptive, analytical even. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, was it?
He and Ron passed by their table. To their surprise, they were shocked to hear Malfoy's voice call to them. "Potter!"
Harry turned around.
"Thanks. For everything," Malfoy said with a somewhat pained look. Yet there was an ease to the blond's aura. A hint of the boy Harry met in Madam Malkin's shop was present once again.
Swallowing his pride, Harry nodded. "Of course. Warrington was the mastermind though."
The other Slytherins—Zabini, Nott, Greengrass, Davis, and Parkinson—laughed at his words. Taken aback, he assumed that he must've spurred an inside joke or something of the sort.
Harry's eyes were only on Ophelia and Malfoy though. She grinned at him. "I relieve you of your duties as my date, Potter! You should go enjoy the rest of the dance with your friends," Ophelia said.
Harry smiled. He and Ron walked away from the Slytherins bidding them goodbye.
When they were far enough, Ron blurted, "What the bloody hell was that!"
"I think we might be on okay terms with the Slytherins," Harry speculated.
"Is that even possible?" Ron said with doubt.
Harry picked up a new glass of butterbeer from the refreshments table. "Who knows? Only time will tell."
26 December 1994
Hogwarts Grounds
After all the students had gone back to their dorms, Severus and Minerva lingered in the entrance hall.
"Are you ready?" Minerva asked their visitors.
"I am. What about you Arch?" Emiri Warrington-Broussard questioned her husband.
Severus scrutinized Archie carefully. Tasked with the most important job of the night, there was no room for error.
Archie took a deep breath. "Yes."
"Emiri and I will go around and guard the exit of the garden. Send red sparks into the air if he begins to move," said Minerva.
As they left, Severus could hear Emiri interrogate Minerva. "What was Archie like as a student? He doesn't like to talk about his time at Hogwarts."
Severus stopped Archie from following them. "Are you really prepared for this…Archie?"
Archie smirked. "After Emi, I believe you of all people know what I'm capable of Severus."
Severus let Archie go, then took his own position in the garden behind a rosebush. From where he was, Severus was able to see Archie approach the bench Moody was sitting at. Moody was staring up at the night sky, leisurely taking a gulp from the flask he always carried.
After closely watching Moody for the past two months, they knew it wasn't alcohol in that flask.
"Alastor! It's been a while since we've seen each other, right? It had to have been before the war ended," Archie said with ease.
Severus could tell that Moody was more than frightened to see the person in front of him. Severus prepared himself, aiming his wand at Moody's back.
Moody dropped his flask onto the ground. He jumped from his seat. "How, how are you here? I, we all thought you were dead," Moody stammered.
"Shouldn't I be saying the same thing...Barty?" Archie mused.
Stupefy Duo.
The last thing Bartemius Crouch Junior saw before everything faded to black, was the face of another unexpected man that was supposed to be dead.
A/N: Oh my goodness. Who tf is Archie?
Over four months later, the Yule Ball is finally over and done with. This was by far the most daunting chapter to date, with many edits and changes all because I couldn't decide how Draco and Ophelia's confrontation was supposed to go. Honestly the rest of the goblet of fire should be smooth sailing from here! There are about ten chapters left of year four!
Love you lots and please fav, review, you know what to do.
mel xx
Contains content from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
-Chapter 5: Diagon Alley
Contains content from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
-Chapter 23: The Yule Ball