The Barrows. Another pureblood family from the long lines of Slytherin ancestry. It's 1991, and Elmira and Clyde Barrows' daughter's first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has arrived.
The Wizarding World is not safe to our young O...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐧?"
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☽
Through the swarm of emotional parents and hopeful youngest siblings, Ophelia could make out her parents, waving goodbye yet again, a strikingly similar scene to the year prior. Lifting a delicate hand from her side, she waved emphatically, smiling brightly before turning away into the second car of the Hogwarts express. The train smelled of freshly pressed leather, a new actinic smell wafting under her nose. It smelled like home.
She wrung her hand around her small, black suede kit bag, filled with two of her new books, her money bag, and a new set of ink quill pens, the ones she had asked her father to get from America earlier that year. They were a gift for Draco. Her father had pulled them from the depths of his desk, almost forgetting about them before Ophelia asked.
Moving through the train, which had begun to chug quickly, Ophelia watched the windows changed from the stone pillars of Platform 9 and 3/4s to the rolling hills of the English countryside. She peered into each cabin that caught her eye, each filled with a more considerable amount of ecstasy, exponentially larger than the last. So many new faces were dispersed amongst the old, Ophelia waved simply at a few acquaintances and friends. Then, looking over to her left, she saw a singular person sitting in a train car alone, face hidden beneath Gaddlingwith Ghouls. Only one person could have that much hair, and when Ophelia knocked on the glass window of the cabin door, Hermione Granger snapped the book shut and slammed it down on her lap in a whirl of rigidity. She had the demeanour of someone who'd been caught, the flushed cheeks of guilt. Hermione's brown hair stuck out at all sides, unnecessarily frizzy and curly for a girl her age, and that's what made her so easy to point out. She may be the brightest girl in Ophelia's year, but she wasn't the most conscious of her appearance.
"Where are Harry and Ron?" Ophelia asked, noticing the empty seats across from the mousy girl.
"I'm sure they'll be here any minute," Hermione said, somewhat flustered before composing herself. "It's not unusual for them to almost miss the train anyways."
Ophelia nodded simply before waving goodbye and kept walking and almost getting to the end of the train before getting interrupted again.
"Ophelia!" A voice called out to her, a voice she had just barely begun to recognize. Smiling widely, she turned around to see the voluminous hair of Jonah Nettle, his freckles more prominent than ever. He bounded towards her and stopped short, just a few feet away.
