IT WAS THE HOTTEST SUMMER yet. Ophelia lay on her bed, amidst the pink, fluffy quilt, facing upwards, staring at her bedroom ceiling.

Her bedroom ceiling was painted a shade of salmon pink ombre, with white clouds and constellations scattered atop the pinkish sky. Since she was younger, she'd always loved staring at her ceiling, doing nothing in particular.

The windows were open, the white shears that accompanied her open curtains were still, indicating that there was no wind. She was sweating, her brow glistening slightly, her blonde hair sticking to her forehead. 

She wore a plain white t-shirt, paired with a pink mini-skirt, and lying sideways across the bed, she dangled her feet at the edge of the bed, the tips of her toes brushing against the carpet at regular intervals.

Only a week ago she was at Hogwarts. Yet it felt like an eternity. 

It was as if everything had gone dark. 

Lucius had gone thinner, and paler, and between his work at the Ministry during the day, and his duties to the Dark Lord during the night, he seemed to have no time for anything at home, at all.

She hadn't had a full conversation with him ever since he'd picked her and Draco from the platform last week.

But every night he gave her a goodnight kiss, and tucked her into bed, like he always did.

Perhaps he was just keeping his distance, to keep her safe.

Her mother rarely smiled anymore. She was worried for both her children, and she would stay up late to wait for her husband's return every night.

It was like a stereo, every day went on and on, playing the same sad song.

They didn't go anywhere that summer.

The days kept dragging on. 

A month later, Ophelia couldn't even remember what day it was.

It was the same as always.

She would wake up late in the mornings, then lie on her bed for half an hour as she stared at the ceiling. She would have a few pieces of fruit for breakfast, and go outside in the garden and try planting new flowers and plants.

She would skip lunch to visit the creek behind the house, where she would sit for hours and splash her feet in the water, and walk home at sundown.

In the evening, the blonde would take a bath in her hot tub, while reading her muggle books and listening to Spellbound, the all-witch band that was very recently rising to popularity.

And then she would have dinner, and sleep, and wake up the next morning, only to repeat the same process.

Exactly as it was like the days before.

She hadn't written to Colin. 

Not even one letter.

Yet he sent her a letter every single day.

He asked her how she was doing, and why she hadn't written at all. And every day, Ophelia would read the letters, and put them away in her hat box, telling herself she would respond later.

But days turned into months, and she hadn't responded to any of Colin's letters. Not because she didn't want to, but because she was afraid, that if she did, she would end up pouring her heart and soul into her letters to him, and if she was discovered, or the letters were intercepted, both Colin and Lucius would be at risk.

So she kept quiet and bottled her emotions up.

Draco seemed to be having the time of his life.

Almost everyday Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Tracy Davies and Blaise Zabini would come over, go up to Draco's room, and whenever Ophelia would enter that corridor to go to her room, she would often hear laughter and shouts from within her brother's room.

And they would see her in the manor.

All of them.

They would see her when she would spend her afternoons in the gardens. They would see her swim, they would see her leaving the manor library with books in her hand as she crossed across Draco's room.

But not once did they acknowledge her.

Not even Draco.

Two weeks before the end of the summer, Ophelia was lying across her bed, dressed a pair of white leggings and a light blue shirt, staring at the pink ceiling in her room.

Her radio was on, and she was singing along softly to Spellbound, when she began hearing shouts from outside her room. Turning off her radio, she clambered off her bed and opened the door.

Draco stood with his back to his own room, a wet patch on his shirt, and Pansy stood opposite him, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed as she looked at Draco.

Nobody noticed her room door slightly open, as she peeked through at the scene.

".... YOU CAN'T EXPECT ME TO CARE!" Draco was shouting. "YOU GO ON AND ON ABOUT HAIR AND MAKEUP. I AM NOT INTERESTED IN THAT RUBBISH! AND WHEN I DON'T ANSWER, YOU CRY BECAUSE I'M AVOIDING YOU! WELL I'M NOT. I JUST FIND YOUR TALKS BORING!"

"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" Pansy shrieked. "INSTEAD YOU GO AND TELL BULSTRODE—"

"I DIDN'T TELL BULSTRODE!" Draco roared. "I told Zabini, and Bulstrode heard!"

"LIAR! BULSTRODE SAID YOU WERE CHEATING ON ME—"

"I WASN'T!" Draco bellowed.

"YES, YOU WERE, DON'T LIE TO ME!" Pansy was crying now.

The other Slytherins were silently watching the argument between the two. They weren't doing anything. Just watching. Like they always did. Ophelia knew how it felt to be on the receiving end of a screaming match.

"I SWEAR I WASN'T!" Draco shouted back.

"YOU LYING BASTARD!" Pansy screamed. "WHERE WERE YOU THE NIGHT OF MY BIRTHDAY? WHEN YOU SAID YOU WERE BUSY?"

"I.." Draco began, breathing heavily.

Ophelia opened her door wider, and stepped out of her room, before slamming the door shut loudly behind her, causing everyone to jump in slight fright and turn their attention to her.

She didn't know why she did this. She wasn't thinking clearly, or rationally. All she knew was that she couldn't sit and do nothing.

"He was with me," she said quietly, yet audibly enough that everyone heard. "Draco was with me the night of your birthday party."

Draco's eyebrows shot up at her confession, and everyone looked at her multiple times, before their eyes settled on Pansy.

Pansy opened her mouth wide to speak. "It's none of your business, Malfoy—"

"Yes it is. Draco would never cheat on you. I know my brother well, and I'd appreciate if you would refrain from calling him any names, or accusing him. After all, he did do you a favor and dated you when no one else would—"

Blaise Zabini snorted, and disguised it as a cough, and even Draco couldn't help himself, as the corner of his lip twitched upwards slightly.

Pansy, however, looked furious. Lunging at Ophelia with her lengthy nails (they looked like claws), she scowled. "Don't you dare speak to me like that, you bitch!" she hissed, before moving forward to grab the blonde girl.

Ophelia's grey eyes darkened, as she glared at the Parkinson girl, narrowing her eyes and looking at Pansy with hatred. She was so much shorter than Pansy, having barely grown at all, this summer. "Lay a finger on me, Parkinson, and I will tell everyone about that time in the library, where you—"

Pansy instantly let out a shriek and took a step back, her eyes wide as she stared at Ophelia with horror. "How did you know—"

"Never mind how I know," Ophelia smirked. "Now, apologize to my brother and I," she said coolly. "Or I shall spill your secrets."

"I apologize!" Pansy spat. 

"Good," Ophelia said simply, turning on her heel. "Now get out of my house."

"Ooooh," Blaise hissed, snapping his fingers. "Damn girl, you got pizzazz!"

Ophelia cast the Italian a side glance. "Do not speak to me in that manner, Zabini. We are not friends," she said coldly.

And, without even bothering to look at anyone at all, she opened the door to her room, slipped inside, and slammed it shut, leaving everyone else mortified.

Once she was safely in the confines of her own room, she caught sight of herself in the mirror, and smiled.

That was exactly the impression she was going for. 

She could hold the attention of everyone in the room for as long as she stayed in it. She knew everyone instantly respected her, and would not cross her anymore.

They were afraid of her. She may have been small, or tiny, or quiet. But there was no doubt that she was dangerous.

This was what she had spent all summer doing. All the quiet behavior, and character building activities, were to build her mental state, and make her interior stronger than ever, and heavily protected.

So she wouldn't ever get hurt.

And so far, it proved to be effective.

Seating herself on her pink piano, she began playing a new song she'd taught herself this summer.

Before Ophelia could even understand what was happening, it was almost September the First, and she was packing her trunk to prepare for her departure to Hogwarts.

She had also gotten a white, fluffy cat, and had decided to name her Princess Cleopatra, or Cleo for short. She absolutely adored her cat.

She slept with it, read with it, gardened with it, played piano with it...

And she took it to Hogwarts with her too, being unable to part with her new friend.

Cleo seemed as attached to Ophelia, as she was to her. The cat would always curl up beside Ophelia when she slept, or read, and would often clamber all over the blonde even at mealtimes, until Narcissa placed a bowl of cat food on the floor next to Ophelia's place at the table, so Princess Cleopatra would not bother them at mealtimes by trying to stick her paws into Ophelia's food.

Lucius had gotten Princess Cleopatra for Ophelia as an apology for not spending any time with her lately. And it seemed as if Cleo was greatly fond of Lucius too. She would sometimes curl herself on Lucius' feet whenever he sat in the living room and read the newspaper.

Ophelia had tied a pink ribbon around Cleo's neck, as well as a collar made of pure silver, with the cat's name studded in with pink crystals.

Every week, Ophelia would trim, file and polish Princess Cleopatra's claws, give the cat a bath with strong scents, and magically dry and brush her fur, and then give the cat a massage.

With Princess Cleopatra taking up most of her time, Ophelia and Draco hadn't spoken at all since his breakup with Pansy, and although Ophelia noticed her brother kept approaching her to talk, she always pretended to be extremely busy and avoided him at all costs.

No, she still hadn't forgiven him for what he'd said to her at Hogwarts. How he'd watched his friends bully her and did nothing. How much he'd tortured her.

Besides, he hadn't even apologized.

And nor did Ophelia ever expect him to.

Draco was like a stubborn mule in front of a stick. He would not budge even a centimeter until that stick was taken out.

He never apologized.

His pride was far too big for that.

And he didn't deserve the fact that she had defended him in front of all his friends. He didn't deserve the fact she'd protected his pride.

But she loved him.

He was her brother, her hero, and she would always look up to him, no matter what.

Somewhere, somehow, deep inside her heart and the very depths of her soul, she had forgiven him. And it would take time for her to come to terms with that, and completely forgive him.

But for now, she was at a good place.

With her trunk safely by the French doors at Malfoy Manor, Ophelia had put her owl in a cage, and Princess Cleopatra was besides the cage in her carrier bag.

The blonde herself was ready, sitting on the plush armchair in the foyer, waiting for the Ministry cars that would pick her up and take her to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

Lucius was usually there to drop her, and see her off.

But things had changed, and her father was busy.

So she understood.

They reached the platform, and Ophelia dragged her trolley in the direction of the train, looking around her briefly, after realizing Draco had vanished.

"Looking for someone?" 

Ophelia turned around, a wide smile on her face. "Daddy!" she squealed, before spreading her arms widely for him. "You're here!"

"Of course I'm here, Princess," Lucius muttered, picking his daughter up and wrapping her arms around her. "You didn't think you'd leave without saying goodbye, did you? I took an hour off from the Ministry."

Ophelia's grin widened. "Thank you for coming," she said softly, burying her head into his neck. "I'll miss you so much," she whimpered, her eyes already watering.

"Be strong, my love," Lucius patted her on the back. "Don't cry. I'm so sorry I haven't been around this summer... I know you wanted to visit Georgia—"

"It's okay, Daddy," Ophelia cut him off. "I'd rather you see me off here than taking me off to Georgia. I understand," she gave him a small smile. 

"Oh, my daughter, I'll miss you more than you can ever know," Lucius sighed softly. "Take care of yourself. I trust you to make the right decisions. I must leave now."

Ophelia nodded. "Goodbye Daddy," she quipped softly, as Lucius set her down on the floor. "I love you."

"And I you."

And then, he disapparated, leaving Ophelia alone, in the stormy sea of Hogwarts students.

All that was left as proof of his arrival was the faint smell of his cologne lingering in the air.

Ophelia inhaled the last of it as she took a deep breath, and turned around, ready to board the train.

Her father's presence had given her the confidence she needed to start the year, and now, she felt completely ready and prepared for whatever could possibly be thrown her way.

And then, Ophelia was gone, and she was replaced by Ophelia Malfoy, the Gryffindor Accident, the Ice Princess of Hogwarts.

She didn't want to be a princess this year.

She wanted to be a queen.

And she had come to finish her fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, her kingdom.

{ and we have the first chapter of ootp ! i know i said i wouldn't be updating in a while, but i couldn't help myself. this chapter only took me two hours to write. i have dedicated this to writtcninthestcrs_ for being my newest bestie, and a fun pal to hang out with. 
how did you find this chapter? how did you find ophelia's character and personality change? ideas? pm me !
please comment, vote, follow and share ,, it would mean the world to me.
anyway, tacos, or burritos?
burritos all the way for me !!
take care luvs. love, jasmine. }

{MAR 19. 2023}