COLIN'S LIPS TASTED OF TREACLE. Kissing him was exactly what Ophelia had expected. He tasted sweet and gentle, like everything golden in this world, and his woody scent filled her nostrils, giving her the feeling that she stood in a sunlit meadow with trees as she basked in the bliss of worshipping his lips. Her hands were on either side of his face, and she slowly moved her lips against his, kissing him deeply, trying to make up for all the months she spent without him.

Trying to live in the sunlit meadow forever.

Only for Colin to suddenly pull her back to reality.

He never kissed her back.

When Ophelia pulled away, she looked up into his eyes. His hazel eyes were wide with surprise.

"What the fuck, Ophelia?" Colin groaned, stepping back away from her, his eyes wide. He ran his hands down his face.

Ophelia squeezed her eyes shut, tears spilling down her cheeks at an alarming rate. "I'm... I'm sorry," she whispered. "I couldn't... I couldn't help it..."

"I have a girlfriend," he reminded her, his voice a tight rasp, barely a whisper. "Why would you do that?"

"Because..." she began, a small whimper leaving her lips. "Sometimes... Sometimes I get mixed signals from you!"

"Oh, sweetheart," Colin pulled her into a hug. Ophelia tried to push him away, but his grip was too tight. "I'm really sorry if you felt that way," he whispered as he stroked her hair. 

He pulled away, looking into her eyes. 

Wiping her tears away, he said, "I thought you knew.. My feelings for you are only platonic," he told her quietly. "But if I didn't have a girlfriend, I'd try it out with you..."

Ophelia's gray eyes looked slightly more hopeful. "You would? R-really?"

He nodded. "Really. You're one of the most wonderful people I know."

"So break up with her," Ophelia whispered, her soft, innocent, gray eyes silently begging him to do as she asked.

If only it were that easy, sweet innocent princess, someone should have told her.

Someone should have taught her about matters of the heart.

But nobody did.

Colin sighed deeply, wiping the tears that fell from her eyes with his thumbs. "Ophelia... sweetheart..." he began, trying to figure out how to let her down without hurting her. "I... I can't do that," he murmured. "I love her."

At this, Ophelia let out a choked sob. "I... I don't want to hear," she whimpered. "Please." Her heart shattered into two, as all hope she held of him ever being hers vanished.

Colin felt his heart twist for the pain he had caused her. "I'm so sorry, Ophelia..." Colin murmured. "I didn't mean for this to happen this way.."

Ophelia let out another heartbroken sob. Her gray eyes looked up at him, her heart absolutely shattered. "Don't," she squeezed her eyes shut. "I... I.. I can't..." Another choked sob escaped her lips. 

She couldn't breathe. Colin's voice echoed in her head on loop.

I love her. I love her. I love her.

Colin lowered himself down her height, pulling her into a hug, stroking her back and trying to calm her down. His scent filled her nostrils. It was comforting and nauseating at the same time.

Comforting because his scent was always calming to her, and it had comforted her more times than she could count.

Nauseating because she couldn't hold him while he loved another.

She pushed him away weakly. "Go," she breathed softly, refusing to look at his face. "I need space."

"Don't do this, Ophelia," Colin murmured, holding her wrist. 

"LET GO!" she screeched, wrenching her hand away, choking back a sob. "Go away," she whimpered, her back sliding off the wall as she fell onto the floor, hugging her knees.

"Ophelia—" Colin began, trying to comfort her, feeling guilty that it was him that hurt her this way.

"Please, Colin I need space," Ophelia whispered, her gray eyes looking straight into his hazel ones.

Colin swallowed, nodding, his chest tight.

And then he left, feeling guilty that Ophelia had kissed him, and feeling even guiltier that he had to be the one to break her innocent heart.

And Theodore watched.

He watched from afar how much she was crying over a boy who never really saw her true worth.

He watched in the distance how much she shook and sobbed over a mudblood.

Until he could no longer watch.

He wanted to run to her, wrap his arms around her, and comfort her.

But he couldn't help but feel guilty. 

Unless... there was something he could do.

Something that could stop this ache in his chest as the sweet little Malfoy heiress cried her heart out as her heart broke.

Running as fast as he could to the Slytherin common room, Theodore sought out Draco, and just before his best friend left the dormitory, he found him.

"Draco," Theodore managed to gasp through his thirst for air after running that fast.

"Theo," Draco acknowledged his friend with a nod.

"Your sister. Hurt. Crying," he managed to gasp. "Thought you should know."

Draco's lip curled, and he gritted his teeth. "Where? Who?"

"Dunno, happened to hear some crying, followed the sound and saw her..." Theodore lied, shrugging and trying to pretend it wasn't killing him. 

Trying to pretend he didn't care. "She's near the Charms corridor."

"Fuck," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Listen I... I've really got something important to do," Draco finally said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Just... get McGonagall or Snape, or something, I don't know..." Draco muttered, before gently slapping Theo across his back with a thanks mate.

Theodore's heart raced. He had no intention of getting McGonagall or Snape.

No, his personal urge to touch her was too great.

His heart over his head.

He couldn't control it.

Just a little touch. Nothing else.

He saw the blonde was crying, sobbing, shaking and trying to breathe. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks were pink and puffy.

She wanted to go fight Abigail, strangle her, murder her in ten thousand different ways. It hurt so much. It hurt even more when Colin was so sweet and gentle about it.

Half of Ophelia wished he'd shouted at her so she had a reason to stay mad at him.

And then she felt a hand on her back.

It was cold. She could feel it even through the thick material of her robes. The hand felt  protective, accompanied by the strong smell of cigarettes, spearmint and musky sandalwood.

Ophelia's head snapped upwards, turning to face him.

He was here to make fun of her, wasn't he?

Her gray eyes were filled with tears that streaked down her cheeks.

"Go away," she whispered, trying to push his hand away from her.

"Malfoy, let's get you to your dormitory," Theodore muttered quietly. Because he couldn't hurt her any more. Not when she was already in this state.

"Let go of me, go away," she slapped his hands away, curling up into her previous position once more. "Go bully someone else." She sniffled.

Theodore felt a dull ache where his heart was. The tips of his ears turned red.

Her words were like a punch to his gut, rendering him speechless.

Congratulations, Draco, you fucking win. She hates me.

She hates me so fucking much.

And she sobbed harder, shaking even more. Theodore couldn't take it.

It was driving him insane.

His heart thudded in his chest as he fought with every bone in his body not to scoop her into his arms and smother her with kisses.

He took a deep breath.

Ophelia was having trouble breathing as she cried into her arms, hugging her knees.

She was suffering from her first rejection, and from her first heartbreak, both on the same day, which was never a good combination. 

And Nott's presence made it worse.

He'd only bully her about crying over a mudblood.

"I'm pathetic, I know," Ophelia muttered, sniffling. "So you can skip the gloating and leave."

And Theodore, who couldn't bear it that Ophelia thought so low of him couldn't control himself.

"Oh, Ophelia," he muttered, crouching down next to her and pulling her into his chest.

Fire.

Fire everywhere.

Fire on his hands, on his skin, in his chest, and setting his heart ablaze.

She felt so good, so right in his arms, so perfect. 

So... his.

This is where she belongs. 

With me. Not him. 

This is who she's meant to be with.

It felt like it was the first time he was touching her all over again, her scent of strawberries and lilies infiltrating his senses, entering his nose and embedding itself in his mind.

Ophelia sobbed into his shoulder, trying to push him away at the same time. But Theodore had a firm grip on her, and she gave up, letting her arms fall limply to her sides.

And then she stopped crying after ten minutes.

"Why?" she asked him, her voice a raspy whisper.

Why are you so nice?

Why do you care?

These were the questions in her head.

Theodore shrugged. "He's not worth your tears," he said quietly, before standing up and walking away, leaving Ophelia completely befuddled.

The blonde picked up what was left of her heart and walked to her dormitory, trying her hardest not to cry. 

Trying not to think about Colin's words.

And after closing the blinds around her four poster bed, Ophelia tried to block out the world as she wore her headphones.

Material Girl began to play.

And as Ophelia drowned out her melancholic thoughts with muggle music, Draco was in another part of the castle, plotting the demise of the Headmaster.

Crying.

Little did he know, as he cried, so did his little sister.

It was only until the sunlight touched them both that their worries were stolen by the dying darkness of the night.

And the phrase morning brings counsel had never been truer than at that moment.

Being a prefect had its perks.

Ophelia took long baths in the prefects' bathroom every morning, from five am to seven am.

She spent an hour just soaking in the hot water, and once all the bubbles were gone, she'd relax herself by taking care of her hair, nails and skin.

Then, she'd get ready for school while drinking her lavender tea.

For breakfast Ophelia would only have fruit.

But prefect duties also had responsibilities.

Twice a week, Ophelia had prefect rounds with the other prefects for two hours after curfew. Hers were on Tuesdays and Thursdays with Luna Lovegood accompanying her in the same corner of the castle.

In the evening, after dinner, and after she'd completed her homework, she'd go for another long bath in the prefects bathroom.

At least prefects were considered responsible enough not to have a curfew.

So far, Ophelia's lessons were going rather well. Fifth year was also known as 'OWL year' which basically meant that Ophelia would be sitting her Ordinary Wizarding Level Examinations at the end of the year, for each of her subjects. 

She took Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.

She also had two free lessons every week, which she used to catch up on her studies, read, give Princess Cleopatra a makeover or practice her Quidditch.

Professor McGonagall was already extremely pleased with Ophelia yet again, as she had received full marks in her essay on Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, and she was already moving forward with implementing it.

Ginny and Mariana already resented Ophelia enough, but when Professor McGonagall criticized Mariana's essay and recommended both of them to be tutored by Ophelia, they both began rolling their eyes and calling her an ugly show-off.

Funnily enough, Professor McGonagall seemed to hear and gave them both detention.

Ophelia gave Professor McGonagall a secret smile.

Because of Ophelia's exceptional transfiguration talent, Professor McGonagall had also recommended her to a lot of struggling students in the lower grades, and the blonde had a different student each week.

They were all afraid of her, being in the younger grades, so at least she didn't receive any disrespect.

Potions was the one class Ophelia was suddenly doing brilliantly in. Professor Slughorn knew how to teach potions, and the Malfoy heiress found herself enjoying her fifth year potions more than she had in all her previous years.

She was the only one who could perfectly brew the strengthening solution in her class of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, which instantly landed her a position in the Slug Club, as he called it.

Professor Slughorn had gasped the moment he saw her potion.

"Absolutely fabulous, m'dear, absolutely fabulous!"

"Thank you Professor," Ophelia said modestly, cleaning her cauldron.

"What's your name, m'dear?" Slughorn had asked, twisting the edges of his mustache upwards.

"Ophelia," she had said. "Ophelia Malfoy."

"Ah! A Malfoy! I knew your great grandfather Brutus Malfoy when he was a lad with me at school. Very brilliant fellow. I assume you've got the same genes?"

"I suppose so, Professor," the blonde shrugged. Lucius had never told her of her great grandfather.

"Look out for my invitation, Ophelia, I'd be very pleased if you could attend one of my parties..." he hinted with a wink.

"I will, Professor."

Ophelia had yet to receive an invitation, but she wasn't really looking forward to it.

Parties weren't really her thing.

She never had any friends to enjoy it with, and she was never really welcome at school parties anyway.

Much to Ophelia's annoyance, Harry Potter was the new Gryffindor Quidditch captain. 

Ophelia didn't particularly hate Harry as much as she hated Ginny and Mariana, she just.... thought Harry was biased.

The boy who lived did not particularly say horrid stuff to her or about her, he just sometimes would give her dirty glares or strange looks.

But those were normal anyway, so it didn't really affect her.

She was used to it.

Quidditch tryouts were rather dramatic this year. Apparently ever since the news of The Dark Lord's return came out, everyone seemed to find Harry Potter more desirable and famous.

Even Ophelia would secretly admit that he was sort of good looking, with his messy black hair and piercing green eyes, but his lack of confidence in his looks just sort of... well, messed it up for himself.

Ophelia had dressed in her pink and black tracksuit for Quidditch tryouts. She'd put up her blonde curls into a high ponytail, and tied it with a huge light pink bow.

"Hey Malfoy, sometimes I wonder how you and Umbridge weren't the best of friends when you're both exactly alike," Ginny had announced her presence to Ophelia, with a rude comment.

Some of the Gryffindors howled with laughter at Ginny's comment.

"The same way as you and Filch aren't best friends," Ophelia replied coolly, picking on her perfectly manicured sparkly, pink nails. "You're both exactly alike."

Nobody laughed. Ginny scowled, lifting her wand to most likely cast the bat bogey hex on Ophelia.

The blonde had narrowed her eyes and drew her own wand.

Harry stepped in. "Let's not kill anyone before the tryouts, yeah? And how do you two expect to both play in a team if you can't stand each other even for five seconds?"

"She started it," Ginny remarked, rolling her eyes and scoffing at Ophelia. 

Ophelia had had enough of Ginny's nonsense.

Her icy glare bored hard and long into Ginny's. "Oh really?" she said darkly, her jaw tightening. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to lie, Weasley?"

Ginny swallowed thickly, but said nothing, her gaze fiery.

She shrugged. "Anyway, it doesn't bother me," Ophelia remarked, mounting her firebolt and taking off. 

But it was this statement of hers that made Ginny feel rotten inside.

Ophelia was one of the only good players left in Gryffindor, and finally, she had managed to earn a permanent position on the team as a chaser.

Nothing, not even Ginny could ruin her mood.

She smiled brightly, heading to the prefects' bathroom for a nice, long bath.

Ophelia made sure to add Quidditch practice next Thursday to her calendar, which was rather full.

She had lots of essays due this week. The teachers were already putting insane amounts of pressure on them, desperate to get them to study harder for the upcoming OWL examinations.

She had a Slug Club dinner of Friday evening, Quidditch practice on Thursday, prefect rounds on Thursday and Tuesday, four essays due on Wednesday, and tutoring on Monday, which was enough to keep her busy all day.

But despite the fact that Ophelia was constantly occupied, she couldn't dull the ache in her heart.

The aching scar that Colin had given her.

The aching scar that was poorly bandaged by Theodore.

Every time Ophelia's mind was left unoccupied, her mind flitted to that moment in the corridor where he helped her.

Without saying anything in the least offensive.

It toyed with the loose ends of her brain and entwined them together with what already made sense to her.

It messed with her head.

It was like ivy, growing and growing and growing in her mind and taking over her thoughts, until she had to declare that enough was enough, and chop off the roots.

In this case, the root of the problem was Theodore not being a jerk.

It didn't make sense.

So Ophelia made it make sense by cutting the moment off, and shoving everything under the rug.

It didn't have to make sense if it never happened, did it?

And with this mentality, she seemed to suddenly have a much lighter load.

But still, she couldn't help but shake off the feeling that she was forgetting something.

Amidst the busy lessons at Hogwarts, the warm meals and the warm environment, there was also a black cloud hovering above each individual, specifically, those whose parents feared for their wellbeing.

Two students in Ophelia's year had already been pulled out of Hogwarts by their parents, in fear that the Dark Lord would target them next.

Speaking of the Dark Lord.

And then it hit her.

That feeling that she had forgotten something was gone, as she realized what she'd forgotten.

She'd forgotten her promise.

Ophelia had completely forgotten about her promise to Draco.

It had been three days since she had arrived at Hogwarts, and she was already drowning in the stress of duties, tasks and homework.

Yet she had broken her promise to her brother.

She had barely seen him at all.

Halfway through her bath, Ophelia dried herself got dressed quickly, and ran to the room of requirement.

Draco was already there.

He was crying.

And Ophelia held him as he cried, her heart breaking for him as guilt coursed through her for neglecting him.

"Draco," Ophelia whispered, trying to get him to stop crying.

"I... I can't do it, Ophelia," he whispered, staring at the dark mark on his arm with hatred. 

"You can," she whispered. "I know it's hard... Heck, you're so brave for coming this far. I'll be there for you every step of the way, and I'm so sorry I haven't been there lately, I've been so busy..."

Draco swallowed thickly and looked at her, nodding.

"I believe in you," Ophelia whispered. "I'll see if I can get a book from the library that will help, okay?"

"Thank you," Draco muttered, wiping his eyes and looking at her. "Let's... let's just... forget this for a moment. Let's... pretend everything's normal."

And as Ophelia stared into his eyes, she instantly knew what he was thinking.

Normal.

Their normal was not like everyone else's.

 Their normal was holding each other in the middle of the night as Ophelia cried for her father.

Their normal was closing their ears and trying to block out the screams of the poor tortured souls that the Death Eaters seemed to find funny in the dungeons.

Their normal was watching their mother cry for her husband.

Their normal was trying to get through the madness while washing their troubles away with a cup of lavender tea.

That was normal. 

And it was fine.

Not good, not great, maybe fucked up.

But fine.

Just fine.

Four letters that covered the meaning of normal, yet completely fucked up, because those two words don't even remotely belong nowhere near each other, let alone belong in the same sentence.

But the four letter word fine, seemed to cover it.

F for Fucked up.

I for It's normal, nothing new.

N for Never ending.

E for Eternal. Infinite.

F. I. N. E.

Fine.

{ hey guys,, i'm so sorry for updating a bit late, been a lil bit busy.
hope you found this chapter okay. things are gonna move fast yet exasperatingly slow at the same time, so enjoy the ride.
hope you guys are all okay. it's the 3rd of december, 12.45am over here. happy heather day to you all, and please wear a sweater <3
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anyway, hope you liked the chapter, spam me with comments, please, please follow, vote and share, it really motivates me to write more.
thank you so much for 300k reads.
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love, jasmine. }

{DEC 03. 2023}