FINDING A CARRIAGE PROVED TO be much easier than boarding the train. For one, Ophelia didn't have to drag a trunk that was three times her weight around, since all the luggage was transported to the dormitories by Filch. 

She boarded a carriage, Colin followed suit. Two second years got onto the same carriage before it started moving. Ophelia's nose was still buried in her book, quietly reading and paying no mind to the two whispering second years in front of her.

She could catch snippets of their conversation.

"She's quite terrifying," whispered one of the girls.

"Imagine! A Malfoy in Gryffindor!" said the other.

"I heard she got into a fight with those Weasley twins on the train," continued the other.

"I think she's snobbish," the other one added. 

Ophelia pretended to ignore their conversation, but she knew it was only the start of what she'd be hearing the rest of the year.

She lifted her head up, glaring at the two whispering girls, who squealed and cowered beneath her hard stare.

"Excuse me," Colin began, addressing the two girls. "It's not polite to talk about someone when you know nothing about them."

The two girls nodded and turned around, whispering to themselves.

Ophelia was just staring at Colin Creevey, dumbfounded. Never had she ever had anyone even remotely defend her or stand up for her. 

She was rather confused. Was he doing all of this out of sheer goodwill, because he was a nice person? Or did he have some ulterior motive to befriend her, find out her secrets then expose her?

She found it hard to believe that someone could be that nice. Nobody was that nice, were they..?

The winds were picking up, rattling the carriage slightly to the side, and Ophelia gripped the sides with her fingers, rather anxious that the carriage would topple over. Leaning to the side, she could see Hogwarts coming closer, its many lighted windows shimmering in the distance.

She was nearly done with her book, and was deeply invested in the playscript when she saw a drop of water on the page. Wiping it off, she turned her eyes back to the text, when another drop fell on the page. Before she could act, she felt something cold and wet on her neck. Looking up, she noticed the dark clouds raging in the sky, faint drizzles falling from the sky.

"It's going to start raining," Colin spoke aloud. 

That very thought ran through her mind, and her first thought drifted to the fact that her hair would get ruined. 

Luckily, they had reached the castle before the rain could get any heavier, and Ophelia darted to get indoors before the rain ruined her hair.

"Hey, Malfoy, wait," Colin Creevey called after her. 

But she kept walking.

She couldn't do this. She couldn't open up to anyone, least of all, a mudblood. That would positively break her father if he found out. 

Colin ran after her, just as she had entered the entrance hall, with it's magnificent marble staircase and floor. He reached for her hand.

"Malfoy, wait," he said breathlessly. 

Ophelia turned around, pulling her hand away from his grasp. "Don't come near me. We are not friends," she said harshly. "And don't touch me, mudblood!"

Colin froze in his step, a look of hurt flashing across his features before he nodded. "I understand."

And then, he turned around and walked away to the Great Hall.

Ophelia couldn't feel worse. 

At least, if he had defended himself or yelled back, she would have felt better. But he just nodded and walked away, despite the offensive words she'd used to keep him away from her.

Fixing up her uniform and appearance once more, she strutted into the Great Hall with confidence and arrogance in her step, scathingly sending glares to everyone around her before settling herself down at the center of the Gryffindor table, where people automatically parted to give her space. Nobody sat directly next to her. There was always a gap on either side of her, since nobody wanted to sit next to her. 

"Creevey, Dennis," Professor McGonagall announced.

Ophelia looked up. A smaller version of Colin Creevey approached the stool, and the hat was placed on his head.

"Would you look at that," she muttered. "Another mudblood at Hogwarts."

Those who heard her sent her glares, specifically, Harry Potter. Ophelia sent him a fake smile, before rolling her eyes.

She ate in silence; no more than a total of seven bites so she wouldn't gain weight. As her mother had taught her, girls need to have a good, slim figure. 

Dumbledore stood up, clearing his throat and preparing to give his speech. "So!" he said, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. 

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." 

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. 

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year." 

"What?" Ophelia heard Harry Potter gasp. Fred and George Weasley were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. 

Obviously, Ophelia scoffed at their obliviousness, rather amused that they had no idea what was going on. Her father had already told her that Hogwarts would be hosting the Tri-Wizard tournament. 

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts —" 

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table. 

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore.  Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. 

But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye — and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness. The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering something. 

He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side. The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students. 

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody." 

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year." 

Ophelia zoned out, already well-versed with the new rules and regulations of the Tri-Wizard tournament. Lucius Malfoy had already told his children all there was to know about, and she found no use in bothering to listen a mad old fool rave about something she already knew of. 

Pulling out Antony and Cleopatra and opening it under her table, she began to read, managing to finish ACT II, just as Dumbledore was finishing off his speech.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

 Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"Ouch!" hissed a voice from Ophelia's left, as she left the Great Hall, her grey eyes scanning the pages of ACT III. 

She turned around sharply, fully prepared to yell at the other person when her eyes widened in recognition.

"You should watch where you're going, Zabini," she said coolly. "Next time I won't be so forgiving."

"My apologies," replied Blaise dryly. "I'll be sure to keep in mind that the next time you read while walking, to stay out of your way."

Ophelia glared at him. "I will not have you speaking to me in that manner," she scoffed. "You should watch your tongue."

Before Blaise could respond, there came an interruption in the size and shape of Theodore Nott.

If Ophelia wouldn't have seen him around her brother, she might have never recognized him. He'd grown much taller than she last remembered, and his hair was slightly longer and uncombed, messy dark curls brushing across his forehead. His features had developed, and seemed more angular. He wasn't so bad to look at, she admitted to herself.

"Zabini, there you are, I've been looking for you everywh— oh, Baby Malfoy?" 

Ophelia narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me, what did you call me?"

"Baby Malfoy," Theodore drawled. "Baby Malfoy got pretty over the years, don't you think so, Zabini?"

"Stop calling me that!" Ophelia snapped. 

"She got rather feisty too," Theodore remarked with a smirk. "But she's still the same girl who used to drag her dolls—"

"Shut. up!" snarled Ophelia. 

"Baby Malfoy is getting angry," Theodore teased her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, towering over her as he took a step closer. "Are you angry at me? I thought you said we'd be friends forever," he laughed loudly.

At this constant reminder of her childhood, and the mockery he was putting her through, she wanted to cry. But she didn't. Instead, her gaze hardened, and her grey eyes bored into his as she chose her next words carefully. "I wouldn't want to be friends with the likes of you," she hissed, stepping on his toes harshly.

And then, she turned around, fully prepared to go back to her dormitory.

"That's right, you now prefer mudblood friends, don't you?" called Theodore after her. "Like the Creevey boy?"

"Nott, stop," Blaise held Theodore's shoulder. "Stop messing around with her, she's out of bounds."

Theodore ignored the Zabini boy, who pursed his lips and left.

"He isn't my friend!" Ophelia snapped, turning around to face him angrily, her cheeks flushed, her grey eyes darkened with fury. "But he's a damn better person than you are, or will ever be!"

"What the fuck, did you say to me?" growled Theodore grabbing her arm harshly and pinning her to the wall.

Gasps rang throughout the corridor. Those who were late in leaving the Great Hall naturally crowded around to spectate what was going on.

Ophelia's eyes widened, and she cried out with a gasp. She'd been taken by surprise, pinned to the wall by her brother's best friend. His fingers gripped her arm harshly, while his other arm dug into her shoulder, holding her firmly into the stone wall. Her eyes were wide and scared, and she was too mortified to speak, to cry out that his fingers were hurting her.

He was only a year older; how on earth did he have that much strength?

"I.." she began. "Let me go, Nott," she demanded feebly. 

"Not until you apologize."

Ophelia's heart only broke further. Where did the boy she was friends with go? When had he become so horrible? He found amusement in teasing her, and making a mockery of her misery. 

But she was stubborn, and had inherited the streak of stubbornness from both her parents, and her pride from Lucius. 

"I am not apologizing to you," she stated bluntly, "You don't deserve it."

But Theodore's grip only got stronger, his fingers curling tighter around her wrist; while his other hand dug into the flesh at her shoulder.

She couldn't stop a cry from leaving her lips. "You're hurting me," she whimpered, tilting her neck upward, leaning her head on the stone wall. 

Before Theodore could let go of her, he was pulled away from her, by what seemed like an invisible force. Ophelia and Theodore glared at each other, the former lifting her sleeve and rubbing her wrist, with was dark red and bruised with his firm grip. She only knew similar marks would be found on her shoulder.

She looked around, unable to locate who, or what had drawn Theodore off her. 

"Mate, are you prepared to face Lucius Malfoy's wrath?" Blaise asked, letting out a gasp. "You left bruises on her. Apologize."

"I am not sorry," Theodore hissed, with a final glare to Ophelia. "You deserve it."

"Don't tell Draco," she heard Theodore tell Blaise, as the two Slytherins turned around in the direction of the dungeons.

Ophelia only glared back, before looking around at the crowd that had been staring at their exchange.

"What are you all staring at?" she barked. "Get out of my sight!"

And all the watchers cleared off, except for one, who bent down to pick up her books and hand them to her.

Astounded, Ophelia could only stare.

It was Colin Creevey.

{ isn't colin creevey one of the nicest humans ever? what did you think of this chapter? what did you think of theo and ophelia's interaction?  leave your comments here ! feel free to spam. please vote, follow and share. love, jasmine. }

{21 FEB. 2023}