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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"𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞..."
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☽
"Ophelia, can we talk to you?" Someone asked. Ophelia turned around; her magical history textbook clutched to her chest tightly as she walked back to the Slytherin commons. Harry and Ron were standing there, looking a little worried, and in Harry's clutches, a small, black leather book that seemed awfully familiar. Ophelia sighed, tilting her head towards an empty classroom and beckoned the two Gryffindors to follow her.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☽
"What is it?" Ophelia asked, turning the small book over and over again in her palms, examining the leather and pages. "And why is it... wet?" She shook the book randomly, an entire glass' worth of water dripping out from the pages. Ophelia raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"It's a diary. I think." Harry said, sitting cross-legged on one of the desks across from her. It was heavy, that's for sure, but she thought that was only because of the water seeping in between the pages. She flipped through the pages quickly and began to open to the first page, but Ron stopped her.
"Are you mad? It could be cursed for all we know. Dad once told me about a book the Ministry confiscated that burned the eyes out of anyone who tried to read it. Three people died." Ron snapped the book shut on her fingers, and Ophelia yelped in pain before drawing her hands to her chest.
"Well, we just won't look at it then." Ophelia placed the book on an empty table and beckoned Harry over.
"Can I borrow your wand?" She held out her hand expectantly.
"Uh... sure? Why?" Harry asked, pulling the wand from his robe pocket and placing it in her open palm.
"In case this book really is cursed, as Ron says, I don't want my wand to shatter to pieces in the process," Ophelia said nonchalantly, smirking as she began to poke at the edge of the cover. Harry tried to swipe his wand back, but she pulled it out of his reach, and he just watched closely, biting his nails nervously.
Finally, she caught the edge and flipped the book open. The three students instinctively covered their faces in case some hex would come flying out and make their eyeballs fall out, but after a few moments of unanswered silence, Ophelia was the first to open her eyes. She slowly peeked over her forearm to look at the open diary, and much to her surprise, nothing was there. She glimpsed at the two boys, who still covered their eyes in fear. Smirking, this was the perfect opportunity to:
