OPHELIA'S STOMACH CHURNED UNPLEASANTLY AT the very thought that her father was here, as a million thoughts flooded her mind and her breathing became heavier.

Why was he here? Was he part of the Triwizard Committee? Was he on duty for the Board of Governors? Or was he here simply because she wasn't responding to his letters? Did Professor McGonagall write to him?

She knew his eyes were scanning the hall, looking for her while pretending to be engaged in conversation with Karkaroff. And then she looked down at her empty plate, feeling the intense stare of her father, all the way from across the Great Hall. It felt like there was no distance. She could feel his eyes on her, and she pretended not to notice, or even acknowledge his presence.

She could barely hear Dumbledore's speech.

"— just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. We are also accompanied by Lucius Malfoy, overseer of the tournament, Head of the Board of Governors of Hogwarts, and representative of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge."

Until she could bear it no longer, and she stood up, excusing herself to the bathroom, clutching her stomach and feeling sick. Throwing the door open of a cubicle, she heaved the entire contents of her stomach into the toilet, and flushed it, before wiping her mouth and collapsing to the floor, leaning against the wall of the cubicle, unable to stop the tears that ran down her cheeks.

As much as she loved her father, she couldn't bear him to see her like this, in such a mess. Knowing it would hurt him, she hadn't written to him at all, or opened his letters, in fear that she'd end up telling him about Colin, and about Theodore.

And she wouldn't be able to stop him from getting angry. And she wouldn't be able to stop Theodore Nott and Colin Creevey from enduring her father's wrath.

She stayed in the bathroom on the floor for a few more minutes, until she calmed down. Washing her face and gargling her mouth, she reapplied her makeup before leaving the bathroom, where Professor McGonagall was already waiting for her.

"Miss Malfoy," began the transfiguration teacher.

"I don't want to talk to you," she said bluntly. "You told my father, didn't you?" she accused. "That's why he's here!"

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "Miss Malfoy, I can assure you, I do not know why your father is here, and I haven't written to him at all, except to reply to the five letters he's sent me, where I assured him you are doing well."

"Don't li—" she began, before stopping. "Wait. What? He wrote to you?"

"Yes, Miss Malfoy, he said you haven't been replying to his letters and asked how you were faring. To which I informed him you are well," she said in a clipped tone. "I do hope that it is true?'

"I'm fine. I've been busy. You can tell him I'm fine, and he can leave," she said, before turning around, in the opposite direction, towards the dormitories.

"Miss Malfoy, may I request you go back to the Great Hall?" Professor McGonagall asked. "Despite the difficulty in you being there, it is mandatory for all students—"

"Fine, I'm going," she sighed, exasperated, and turned back into the Great Hall, where she'd missed dessert, and Dumbledore was speaking. She could feel her father's grey eyes, identical to hers staring at her figure as she entered the Great Hall, and refused to make any eye contact with him.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet."

There was an excited murmur as Dumbledore said these words, but Ophelia was too nervous, too busy fidgeting with her fingers to pay attention, constantly casting quick glances at Lucius Malfoy.

"Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all." Dumbledore finally said, and Ophelia was the first to stand, prepared to leave, when she witnessed her father lean towards Dumbledore and say something.

Dumbledore spoke into the megaphone. "Miss Ophelia Malfoy, your presence is requested immediately. Please remain in the Great Hall."

But the moment she heard her name, she couldn't control the rush of emotions that flooded through her; it was like a flock of birds was hitting her from a hundred different directions.

It was getting hot, and she was feeling dizzy, her head throbbing. The next thing she knew, was that the Great Hall was tilting, and the walls were closing in on her.

She didn't remember what happened next, or how she was facing the ceiling of the Great Hall, a thousand blurry floating candles all she could see. She could faintly see students stepping around her body, and the last thing she heard was the loud yelling for someone to fetch a doctor.

And then everything went black.

***

"I really can't trust any of you incompetent fools to look after her! What if she'd DIED?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I wholeheartedly apologize—"

"SHUT UP! Dumbledore, if you weren't favored by Minister Fudge, believe me, I would have made sure you lost your job."

"My apolo—"

These were the words that echoed through her ears and mind. Everything was black. Ophelia felt like she was underwater, and everything was quiet and muffled around her. Hearing everything, but unable to reply. She felt herself sinking under, and wanted to cry for help, but nobody would hear.

The blackness began to fade, and the voices got cleared, her mind getting lighter.

And then she slowly opened her eyes, squinting to get used to the sudden brightness. She could see a blob of white and grey in front of her, and as her eyesight got clearer, the image came into focus; it was Madam Pomfrey.

"Oh, thank God, you're awake," the woman breathed, sighing in relief after Ophelia opened her eyes. "Mister Malfoy! Mister Malfoy, your daughter is awake!"

She could hear the sudden scraping of a chair and loud, quick footsteps coming closer, along with the brisk banging of something that sounded awfully familiar; and Ophelia knew, just by the sound, that it was her father's cane.

She fluttered her eyes close, pretending to be asleep.

"You'd have to do a lot better at convincing me you're asleep," came an amused voice, laced with a hint of worry.

Ophelia opened her eyes, refusing to meet her father's gaze. She could already feel the tears knocking on the doors of her eyes and begging to be given a way to pour down her cheeks. She could feel the worry in his voice; she heard him bellowing for a healer when she collapsed earlier in the Great Hall; she could feel the disappointment in his voice. She was afraid to look into his eyes, in fear of seeing the look of sadness, hurt, and pain she'd put her father.

"Do you have any idea what you've made me endure?" he hissed, cold, grey eyes burning with fury. The blonde could tell he was positively livid; just by his tone. "Skipping meals and sleep, are you trying to kill yourself?" Lucius continued, voice dripping with anger. "You haven't replied to any of my letters since the beginning of school!"

All along, she was playing with her fingers underneath the covers, her eyes focused everywhere but his face.

"I was busy," she replied, her voice cracked, her throat dry. "And I'm fine."

At this, Lucius completely lost it. "FINE?" he bellowed. "FINE MEANS YOU'RE NOT IN THE HOSPITAL WING! FINE MEANS YOU'RE WRITING TO ME EVERY SINGLE DAY! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE PUT ME THROUGH? I HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO SLEEP OR EAT, WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU! ONE LETTER! THAT'S THE LEAST YOU COULD HAVE DONE. DID YOU EVEN THINK—"

No, she couldn't look at him. She was feeling terrible about hurting him enough already.

She said nothing, her gray eyes glassy as she fisted the skirt of her school uniform she wore, every word he spoke causing her heart to wrench.

"Ophelia, look at me," Lucius said firmly, tilting her chin up to bring her eyes up to meet his.

And she did, unable to refuse that soft, yet demanding tone.

Her grey eyes looked into his, identical to her own, vulnerable and soft.

His smell, that comforting smell of his cologne, of Narcissa's lingering perfume that had latched to him when he had kissed her goodbye before he left for work; the faint scent of cigarettes clung to him from the time he smoked one the previous night, just made her suddenly feel like she was at the manor.

And then she broke down, the moment her grey eyes met his, all her emotions flooding down her cheeks, hating everyone who made her feel this way, hating her father for caring so much, and hating herself the most for putting him through this; she detested herself for hurting the one person who actually cared enough about her, to come all the way to Hogwarts to check up on her.

Her tears were silent at first, looking into her father's eyes, which had softened on seeing her vulnerable state. He couldn't be mad at her; not for long.

Seeing those tears trail down her cheeks reminded him of all those times she came crying to Lucius as a little girl, whenever she would complain that Draco had taken one of her dolls and hidden it for amusement. To him, she was still the little three-year-old that had forced him to join her tea party with her dolls; seeing her like this was no doubt, the worst thing he could endure; she looked so much like her mother.. It was worse than enduring the cruciatus; it was like physical and mental torture, watching her cry.

"Oh, Ophelia," Lucius sighed softly, before wiping her tears with his thumbs. "Don't cry."

She only let out a cry from her lips, shaking slightly, her small sobs getting louder.

"Darling, don't cry," he murmured, leaning down and scooping her up in his arms, sitting on the bed, and pulling her closer to his chest.

Ophelia bunched up his robes with her hands, gripping onto him so firmly, never wanting to let go.

She completely broke down in the two strong arms that held her, burying her face into his shoulder, shaking as sobs wrecked through her lithe frame.

"Hush now," Lucius soothed, stroking her back with his hand. "I'm here. I've got you, princess."

Her fingers clung onto him so tightly, that it was impossible for Lucius to move even the slightest bit. Every sob she let out was like a stab to his heart, and he only tightened his arms around her, afraid for her. He would kill anyone who made her cry like this, even if it was his own son. He would murder anyone who would put her through this; possibly the worst thing he could endure.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that; just held her, whispering comforts into her ears until she had calmed down, and she had run out of tears to cry. Her cheeks were tear-stained and her eyes rimmed with redness, her fingers fisted around his robes, still refusing to let go.

His chin rested on her blonde head, and for a moment, he thought she had fallen asleep when her cries stopped.

"Daddy," came a small voice, and his head snapped down to look at his daughter.

"I'm here," came the reply, automatically from his lips, without even having to think twice about what to say.

"What happened?" she asked in a small voice, referring to how she got there.

"You fainted, Princess," he sighed painfully. "From the lack of food and sleep. Why haven't you been sleeping? Or eating? Is it because you want to remain slim?"

She gulped, refusing to say anything, shaking her head. "Because... Food and sleep are the only things I can control."

"And what of the extra classes you are taking? You know I don't force you to study, Ophelia," he stated, a crease between his brows as he let out another sigh.

"That too."

"Why are you doing this?" Lucius asked, tilting her head up to watch her expressions. "Why didn't you write to me?"

"B-because I didn't want to worry you," she said in a small voice.

"Oh, Ophelia," Lucius sighed painfully once more, leaning his head on hers. "Numerous times I've told you; you could never be a bother to me."

"But you've got so many things to worry about," she mumbled. "Work, the Ministry, Mummy, Draco..."

"But you will always be my number one priority," he muttered. "I am disappointed you have such little self-worth."

Ophelia pursed her lips, looking into her lap, her arms slung around her father's neck.

"Now tell me," Lucius broke the silence again. "What is wrong? Tell me everything, and don't leave anything out."

Ophelia sniffled and nodded. "The year started the same. I got into an argument with the Weasleys, and Draco came to help. I was in a bad mood."

"Go on."

"And then a mudblood came to sit in my compartment, and he wouldn't shut up. In the carriage, two girls were saying things about me, and the mudblood came to my defense."

He raised a brow, about to speak, but she was already continuing.

"I told the mudblood to leave me alone, and he did. After the feast, I was going to my dormitory, when I bumped into two Slytherins. They were saying horrid things about me, so I insulted them," she said cautiously, careful not to divulge the identity of those Slytherins.

"As you should," Lucius said proudly. "You're a Malfoy. Anyone who disrespects you has to pay."

"Yes, but one of them pinned me to the wall," she continued.

At this, Lucius stood up and dropped Ophelia to her feet, drawing his wand, eyes darkened. "Who? Who the fu—"

"Daddy, listen," Ophelia huffed, interrupting him. "Before they could do anything, the mudblood saw, and used a spell to get him off me."

Lucius let out a sigh of relief. "Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head.

"Who is he? Tell me now, and I will make him pay," Lucius hissed, eyes narrowed, wand clenched between his fingers.

"I don't know," Ophelia shook her head. "I don't remember," she lied. "It- it doesn't matter anyway.."

"If he had even lain a finger—"

"I'm fine, Daddy," Ophelia assured him.

"What happened then?" Lucius questioned.

"The mudblood picked up my things and walked me back to the common room," she replied. "But then I asked him why he helped me and he replied that everyone needs a chance. And he told me to call him by his first name."

"Oh no," Lucius muttered, shaking his head. "Oh no."

"I ignored him, even though he was following me after every lesson. Finally, I got sick of it. So I told him to meet me in the library, and I told him to stay away from me. And.. and then he asked me why. He asked if it was because he was a mudblood, and I replied that it wasn't."

"Oh, Ophelia," Lucius furrowed his brows. "Go on, I'm listening."

"He said I should be myself without caring about what people think," she replied. "And after that, I told him that I can't be seen with him, it's against my morals and what I've been taught.. I told him you'd... you'd be very upset if I was friends with a m-mudblood.." Her tears had returned, and she was so afraid of what he'd say. "Because your opinion mattered to me more than a-anyone else's.. Daddy, please don't get mad.. But after that, I just pushed everyone away. I didn't tell you because I was ashamed of being upset over a m-mudblood.."

Lucius crushed her into a hug before she could finish speaking.

Two moments of silence. And then Lucius spoke. "I won't deny it, I despise mudbloods," his lips curled in distaste. "But if the only person who actually cared enough to help you from purebloods, was a mudblood, despite you pushing him away, then I don't think this one is particularly bad.."

Ophelia honestly, truly couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was her father literally saying this about a mudblood? Her eyes widened in shock, and her lips parted, blinking several times. 

"So you were upset because of a mudblood?" Lucius scoffed.

She shook her head. "It's because I couldn't control everything around me. I didn't want people. I stopped eating and sleeping because it was the only thing I had control over, in my life. I can't control how others behave towards me.."

"Oh, darling," he sighed. "If it means so much to you, I don't mind the mudblood around you. If it means you don't enter this state anymore."

She nodded softly. "I don't think I want to talk to him again," she muttered.

"Why don't you want to talk to him, darling? If you're worried about what I think, it's okay. I don't mind him. No more than one mudblood friend, Ophelia. And by all means, do not befriend the Weasleys," he said sternly.

"Daddy, I don't need friends when I have you," she replied softly, wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Ophelia, I will try my best, but I won't be there for you always," Lucius sighed, stroking her hair. "You need at least one friend. If it's a mudblood, then fine. As long as you're okay and happy."

A small smile grazed her lips. "R-really?"

"Yes," Lucius admitted. "Besides, I agree with completely with what the mudblood said. You need to be you. Don't care about what anyone else says. Do not be afraid to be who you are, my daughter." Lucius admitted, realizing he'd rather have a happy daughter with just one mudblood, rather than an unhappy one with health issues. "Do this for me."

All along, she was listening intently, nodding after every sentence, comprehending this all fully. "I'll try," she murmured, swallowing dryly, before taking a sip of water from the clear glass that lay on her bedside.

"Just promise me one this, Ophelia," Lucius interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes, Daddy. Anything," she replied. And she meant it. He gave her the world, and the least she could do was listen to him; whatever he said. Anything he wanted.

 Of course, Ophelia was still upset at Colin Creevey for assuming he knew everything about her family, but the thought that her father would sacrifice his dislike for mudbloods for her happiness made her smile.

And then, Lucius voiced his main concern, much to Ophelia's shock and administration that he'd even let his thoughts drift in that direction, as he spoke his next words.

"Don't fall in love with him."

{ lo and behold; chapter 6. i know some of you have been eagerly waiting for this, and this is for you. this was one of my favorite chapters to write. on an additional note, i have created a spotify playlist for this ,, and if you want it, do pm me please :) my username on spotify is dessertoholic. also, do check out my other works. i've got a sirius black fanfic, and two draco malfoy ones, and if you're interested, please please, give them a read. anyway ,, take care, comment, vote, follow, and share !
p.s. i added aesthetics and a face claim for colin creevey, if you are interested. do go to the part i chapter and cast chapter if you're interested. 
take care, and love you guys; love, jasmine }

{FEB 23. 2023}