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'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫."
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☽
Since she parted ways with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Ophelia couldn't seem to stop thinking. All of the gears and cogs inside her mind were turning incessantly, mulling over the possible culprits who might have opened the chamber. Not only that, but what caused Longbottom to look so pale, and stumble over his words more than he already did? She knew something was seriously wrong; she felt it in her gut but couldn't quite put her finger on it.
Alone, Ophelia strutted into the Great Hall, her dress shoes clacking along the coarse flagstones and cloak flowing behind her, but went unnoticed in the amassing crowd. As she approached the Slytherin table, she remembered to smile, an easily penetrable shield to hide her thoughts if someone truly cared to go digging.
Draco perked up when he saw Ophelia, subsequently pushing Crabbe and Goyle further down the bench into a couple of first-years to make room for her. She breathily laughed, sliding her legs over the bench and sitting down. Just as she did, she caught a glimpse of Hermione, peering over the crowd at her. Ophelia winced, her breath caught in her throat, hoping Draco hadn't seen the interaction.
"Okay, something's bothering you," Draco said, poking her in the shoulder lightly.
"What makes you say that?" Ophelia gently dismissed him and began to stack pieces of corned beef and steamed carrots onto her plate.
"Oh, I don't know, the general glazed-over, disinterested look?" Draco chuckled, stealing a carrot off of her plate, consequently receiving an eye-roll and shoulder poke.
"It's nothing." She said, turning her attention to hastily cutting the pink meat into edible portions.
"It's absolutely something, apparently." Draco kept prodding, placing his fork and knife down fully, his attention focused on her. Ophelia let her head loll back in annoyance, then let it fall to the side, giving him an exasperated stare, expecting him to back off. But, instead, he returned the exact same look.
Realising that he wasn't going to give this up, she huffed and opened her mouth to speak, only to realise she didn't know what was bothering her. She didn't know what had happened with Harry yet, and she couldn't very well reveal to him that she was in the thick of things again. Last year was bad enough, and she had promised him no funny business again.
