TWENTY-SEVEN

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


     Ophelia walked into the Slytherin Common Room the following Thursday night with a shit-eating grin on her lips as she spun the draw string handle of a small change purse around her index finger. She had somehow convinced the Weasley twins to raise her profit to fifty percent because they were that impressed. They hadn't expected much of their product to sell to the Slytherins — they were blood traitors after all, but alas, Ophelia came through.

She noticed Daphne sitting on the couch in front of the fire looking rather focused while she scribbled on her parchment, the blonde glanced up when Ophelia approached, the corners of her lips turning up at her friend's grin.

"What's got you so chipper?" Daphne asked, putting her quill and parchment down on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch, stretching her back. "Another rendezvous with Warrington?"

Ophelia scoffed, dropping her small pouch of coins onto the table with a thump. "As if you'd think only a man could make me smile like this, Daph."

She grinned even a little more mischievously now. She had, in fact, met up with Cassius in an old broom cupboard earlier, since Thomas not finding out about them was at the top of both their lists of priorities, but that wasn't the point. She was grinning because of the money, of course.

"More like a boy, not a man." Daphne rolled her eyes, she was still annoyed that Cassius had told practically the entire Quidditch team about him shagging her best friend. "Where's the money from?"

"Remember those Weasley products I brought to my birthday party?" Daphne nodded. "I used my incredible wit and charm and convinced them to give me fifty percent of the profit."

"Your incredible wit and charm could convince anyone to do anything." Daphne admitted, looking up at Ophelia with a serious stare. "Honestly, I thought you were a Veela when we met."

Ophelia rolled her eyes playfully. "You don't need to flatter me, Daph."

"I'm not!" She exclaimed. "You're literally so beautiful you could get anyone to do your bidding."

Before Ophelia could reply, the portrait hole swung open and Blaise and Theodore strode inside, muttering to each other inaudibly, though they both nodded at her and Daphne as they passed the couches, headed for the dormitory stairs.

"You don't want to go up there right now, mate." Ophelia's head whipped around to look behind her, noticing Crabbe and Goyle slumped in the wooden chairs at one of the study tables. Ophelia's brows pinched together as she watched over the back of the couch at Blaise who looked almost as confused as her when Goyle decided to elaborate. "We already tried, but it's otherwise occupied."

Goyle's eyes cut to Ophelia quickly before he glanced back up at Blaise, who spoke. "Who's up there, Goyle?"

"Malfoy."

As if on perfect cue, loud steps retreated from the stairs to the boys dormitories, and Draco Malfoy came into plain view while straightening out his suit jacket, pulling the sleeves taught over his wrists. He hadn't been looking ahead to notice the many pairs of shocked eyeballs staring at him. Ophelia's teeth were cutting into her cheek at this point, and she'd nearly taken a chunk of flesh off when Pansy Parkinson appeared behind him, running her thin fingers through her dark bob. When Draco did finally look up, he stopped walking, causing Pansy to walk straight into his back. His eyes scanned the Common Room at all of his friends staring at him incredulously. Blaise's jaw was slack as it hung open in utter shock. Daphne's eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead, Theodore looked as he usually did — uncaring, yet amused. When Draco's steel eyes met Ophelia's, they lingered for a moment. He was trying to read her, to see if she was affected. She merely stared back, teeth still clamping down on her cheeks roughly. She refused to react in front of him.

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