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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"𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐠𝐨."
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"Class dismissed." The shuffling of feet and closing of books and creasing of notebooks filled the air as the class made their way out of the murky classroom. Ophelia stuffed her Potions textbook into her bag and turned to Draco.
"I'll meet you outside, just give me a moment." He nodded gently, scowling over at the Gryffindor trio. She sighed, gripping her bag's strap tightly as she made her way over. Ron was hastily packing his things up, avoiding the stern gaze of Professor Snape. His red hair was unkempt and swept all over the place as he rapidly moved. Taking a breath in, she tapped Hermione's shoulder, watching as the bushy-haired girl's head whipped around. Her eyes widened and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"Hello," Ophelia said, hiking her relatively heavy bag up across her body. Ron finished packing and stood up, smiling lightly at the Slytherin girl, but was elbowed immediately by Harry. She furrowed her eyebrows.
"Are you ignoring me?" Ron looked down at his feet, and Hermione was still silent. She looked to Harry, who had an unreadable simper on his face. He shook his head and stuffed his hands into his robe pockets.
"Look, Ophelia. We can't... associate ourselves with you anymore," Ophelia caught a breath in her chest as her heart shattered. Time slowed down to the sluggish suspiring of her chest. Astounded at their brutality, his words ripped through her like a hot knife through butter. Her heartbeat thumped in her ears, and the blood rushed to her head. A small part of her knew this would happen. Was it because of Draco? He had been an absolute gentleman to her, nothing but polite. Sure, he had prejudices and a deep hatred for anything but purebloods, but that was the way he was raised. Her lip quivered as the three Gryffindors stared as she crumbled to bits.
"It's because I'm a Slytherin, isn't it?!" She spat, eyes welling up with tears. It was a rhetorical question, she already knew the answer. Harry rolled his eyes and brushed past her, Hermione in tow. Ron lingered back a little, frowning as he passed her.
"Bye, Ophelia." He murmured. Hermione called for him from the hallway, and he disappeared in a flash. Ophelia clutched her textbook to her chest, embedding her nails into her biceps in an attempt to suppress a sob. It was bound to happen. She bowed her head to the floor, shuffling her shoes against the rough stone.
"I suggest you leave soon, Ms Barrows, you don't want to be... late," Snape called from his desk, muttering something incoherent to himself. She sniffled sharply, wiping her tumefying tears with the sleeve of her robe as she made her way out, muttering a low thank you to the dispassionate man and closed the door behind her. Draco was leaning against a wall, flipping through one of his many books, slithering the cream-coloured page in between his fingers delicately.
