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...
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"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭?!"
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☽
Ophelia and Draco leaned in, reading the sign that Filch had hung next to the Great Hall. Students were filing inside with great excitement and interest.
DUELLING CLUB! First meeting tonight at 7:30 PM.
Ophelia and Draco looked at each other, then looked at the double doors, shrugged, and pushed right in. The extensive dining tables had been moved to the sides of the room, expertly stacked one on top of the other so there would be room to presumably 'duel'. In the middle of the room was a golden stage, and atop it was none other than Gilderoy Lockhart, smiling expertly and attempting to quell the bustling of interested students.
"Gather round! Gather round! Can you all hear me? Can you all see me? Excellent." Professor Lockhart extended his arms, beckoning a few of the late-come stragglers to join the huddle of students in front of the stage. Ophelia and Draco elbowed their way to somewhere in the middle, staring up at the over-joyous professor.
"So, I'm guessing you are all wondering why were are here." Lockhart pursed his lips together in a thin-lipped smile, an attempt to hide his flashing teeth as he raised his eyebrows. "Well, in light of, recent, dark events, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club, to train you all up in case you need to defend yourself like I have on countless occasions."
Ophelia realized she was standing behind Harry and a smiling Hufflepuff, who turned to Harry discreetly and whispered in the Gryffindor's ear excitedly. "That Lockhart's something isn't he?" The boy said before turning fully and extending a hand out to Harry.
"Justin Finch-Fletchly, Hufflepuff." Ophelia watched Harry take Justin's outgoing hand gingerly, shaking it before introducing himself.
"Nice to meet you, I'm–"
"Oh, I know who you are. We all do, even us muggle-borns." The boy cut Harry off, returning his hand to his pocket promptly. Ophelia had to admit, it was a strange thing to say, but she wasn't going to question it. Instead, she focused more on the stage, where Professor Snape had joined Lockhart on the stage, his dismal manner far from hidden. It seemed Snape was burning holes into Lockhart's perfectly coiffed head, silently teeming with rage. Perhaps it was because Lockhart didn't seem qualified for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Sure, he had apparently done everything in his books, but he didn't exhibit that bravery in class, nor did he show any signs of strength or aptitude when facing the creatures in his courses.
"Now, let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart said, the enunciated word stinging the dark-robed professor in the face.
"He has sportingly agreed to help me in this short demonstration," Lockhart said, turning to the crowd and hiding his mouth from Snape's gaze. "Now, I don't want any of you to worry, you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him!"
Ophelia watched Lockhart swiftly remove his wand from his verdant robe pocket, brandishing it in the air with a high arc, arm outstretched perfectly before landing his gaze on Snape, who had a much less exciting duelling position. It suited him, though, with one extended arm and his right pointer finger just in front of his angled nose. The two professors bowed respectfully, pivoting on one foot and walking ten steps apart, before swivelling around and attempting to disarm their opponent. Before Lockhart could do anything, the Potions' professor shouted 'Expelliarmus!' and sent Lockhart's wand and person flying. The Defense professor began to laugh his failure off, loudly mumbling to anyone who would listen that he let Snape win.
"Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendlyspells, Professor." Snape said pointedly, a hint of snide in his tone.
"Ah! Uh, yes. Professor Snape that is an excellent suggestion. Let's have a volunteer pair. Potter, Weasley? What about you?" Lockhart raised an open palm to the startled Gryffindor boys, who began to make their way to the stage slowly before being stopped by Snape's objection.
"Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells, we would be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox in mere minutes." Snape said knowingly. Ophelia and a few other students stifled giggles.
"Might I suggest someone from my own house? Malfoy, perhaps." Ophelia shut up, turning to Draco, who seemed to be zoning out. She jabbed Draco in the side, who immediately came to attention and flashed his eyes in bewilderment at the black-robed professor, who parted the crowd of students with his demanding strides and dragged the tow-headed boy onto the stage.
The two boys stood at attention, glaring into each other's eyes with a devoted passion of resentment that was truly appropriate to their particular relationship. Ophelia bit her lip, observing Draco as he followed Lockhart's instructions, drawing his wand from his robe pocket with delicate ease, bowing to Harry somewhat begrudgingly, then turning about-face to walk ten paces. As Draco passed Snape, the Potions' professor whispered something to Draco, who nodded slightly. Before Lockhart got to ten, Draco turned about-face and fired a spell, knocking the unsuspecting Gryffindor off his feet.
"I said, disarmonly!" Lockhart yelled, but Harry was quick to his wits. Harry shot a spell back, hitting Draco square in the stomach, to which many of the students gasped. Then, wanting to get the last spell in, Draco yelled, 'Serpensortia!' and to everyone's horror, a black, miry snake flew out of Draco's wand like a bullet of buckshot, dropping in front of Harry's feet. Though Harry wasn't afraid, apparently seeming to be the only one. Ophelia watched the Gryffindor boy's face become transfixed as if some unknown power was slowly possessing him.
Suddenly, the snake turned to the crowd, slipping off the stage and towards the cluster of students. Harry yelled something loud and sinister, utterly baffling to her, which Ophelia seemed to recognize as another language or vernacular, one that was otherworldly. The snake began to slither towards the boy Harry had been talking to, just before Lockhart called him to attention. It was as if Harry was controlling the snake to make that decision. Jelly? Fustin? Justin. That was the boy's name. Suddenly, the snake stopped after Harry yelled another imperceptible chant, and Snape vanished the snake in a puff of black smoke, staring at the Gryffindor boy with an uncertain demeanour.
"What are you playing at?!" Justin yelled, tearing up and running out of the room. Ophelia made eye contact with Draco, who was still on the stage. He mouthed a few words to her before tilting his head towards the door. Ophelia nodded in agreement and began making her way through the crowd. Draco flanked her soon thereafter, making their sides flush as they talked in hushed whispers, leaving Harry surrounded by a confused and frightened group.
"What was that?" Ophelia asked, hoping that Draco might know.
