EYES NARROWED AT THE PAIR, a low, unladylike growl pronounced displeasure from Ophelia's throat. 

Blood pounded through her ears, pulsing through every capillary with strong purpose as Ophelia's heard thudded loudly in her chest.

So many weeks had past that she'd successfully avoided him, and now Draco went and brought him here; to the only safe space she had.

She couldn't even fathom what to say, it was like her tongue had tied itself into a knot and swallowed itself down her throat. Completely rendered speechless, save from the little growls of anger and narrowed eyes, Ophelia was burning hot everywhere. 

Anger. The tips of her ears and nose turned dark red, and the crimson flush began spreading across her cheeks like the plague.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Ophelia hissed, finally managing to untie her tongue and find the words she struggled to say despite her constricted throat.

Draco and Theodo— the other boy stared back at her.

"He knows," Draco finally explained, as if those two words would be enough to explain everything.

"Yeah, no shit," Ophelia snarled. "Obviously, he wouldn't be here if he didn't know." Her eyes narrowed further as she spared the other boy a quick glance.

"Malfoy, hear me out—" Theodore began, but he was interrupted by Ophelia.

"Shut it, Nott," she growled, without sparing him a glance. "Draco, you've got five minutes to explain or else I'm leaving."

"Okay," Draco sighed, "Nott was—"

Ophelia cut him off sharply, sending another glare to the Nott heir. "Alone."

Ophelia sent another glare to Nott, silently warning him not to interrupt. The brown haired boy sat on the dusty couch with a suppressed smile that Ophelia didn't see.

"Fine," Draco said slowly, pulling her aside, away from Nott's line of sight and hearing. "Theodore accidentally saw my mark when I was changing in the dorm," Draco began. 

"I tried to hide it, but he'd seen it," Draco continued. "And he didn't question it or anything. He just... accepted it."

"But why is he here?" Ophelia asked, her temper slowly simmering downwards. "You know... You know I hate him," she breathed, her chest tightening as she thought of all those times he'd pinned her to the wall, and all those times he'd broken her confidence with his words... and all those times she had to stare at the ugly bruises on her wrists because he'd gripped her too tight. "He.... He hurt me..." she whispered timidly, shyly, afraid that Draco would take the side of her best friend instead of hers, like the way he used to. 

Draco suddenly understood that his little sister wasn't the same age as him. If he thought himself too young to be a death eater, then she was a baby in comparison.  She was younger and more innocent. Heck, she didn't even know what sex was. 

He suddenly got a flash of her younger self, when she was four, in her long, pink nightie, hugging her stuffed bunny as she cried and screamed because she didn't want Lucius to go to work.

Or the time when she was five, and she had a bad dream. She didn't want to wake Lucius up, so she knocked on Draco's room, and he'd yelled at her and told her she was a baby for getting scared of a stupid little dream. 

Another memory filled his head, when he pushed her away because he wanted all of Theodore's attention as he showed him his new broomstick. She was eight at the time, and she'd cut her knee on a stone when she fell. She cried, but hid it with her dress. And when Lucius found it, he had gone ballistic. She said she fell; she didn't divulge that Draco was the one who pushed her. 

She was still the same. She hadn't changed. Her heart was still the same.

Suddenly, he felt a pang of guilt for everything she'd been through. Everything that happened with Nott— it was his fault. 

She didn't deserve to be hurt. 

It was his fault she'd had no friends. 

It was his fault that all the Slytherins called her a blood traitor and a filthy Gryffindor.

She was just an innocent soul who hurt nobody. And all she wanted in return was love.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Come here," he sighed tiredly, opening his arms for her. 

And as her the edges of her lips turned slightly upwards, and she stepped into his embrace, Draco hoped, with all his heart that she never found out what he'd done.

It was all his fault. He was the one who had made her life hell.

Since they were kids.

All because he was jealous Lucius loved her more than him.

But now he knew. She was always meant to be loved more. And for once in his life, he didn't really mind.

He'd gotten to know her, and he too, suddenly felt protective of her. He didn't want anything to hurt her. She didn't deserve it. She was too pure for it.

"He's not going to hurt you any more, I promise," Draco muttered, making a mental note to talk to Theodore about that conversation they had had, six years ago. "If he does, I'll handle him. Okay?" He looked into her eyes for affirmation.

Ophelia nodded.

"Ophelia?" Draco asked her quietly. "I need to hear words."

"Okay."

Draco freed her from his embrace. "I know you don't like him being here," he continued. "But he said he'll help."

"We don't need his help!" Ophelia snapped, a little louder than she'd expected to.

"Yes, we do," Draco admitted with a sigh. "We don't have any sort of plan, the Hogsmeade visit is tomorrow, and I can't do shit because I've got detention with McGonagall. And... he's my best friend. It makes me happy knowing that he's got my back."

Ophelia listened, knowing Draco was right.

"For a while, it feels... normal," Draco explained, his chest tight and his forehead wrinkled with stress. "It feels like I'm not alone. Theodore reminds me that I'm not alone. So... can you just—"

"Yeah," she replied with her chest tight. "I... I can try.... But if he hurts me—"

"He'll have me to answer to, remember?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

They went back to where Theodore was admiring the broken vanishing cabinet.

"Montague got lost in this last year, remember?" Theodore said with a faint trace of a smile on his lips as he recalled that moment. "When the Weasley twins pushed him in?"

"Yeah," Draco said tersely. "Listen, Theodore," he changed the subject, his protective instincts kicking in. "Nott," he corrected, as calling him by his last name befitted the current situation better. "Hear me out. Hurt my sister one more time, and I swear to God, it'll be the last thing you ever do."

Theodore glanced at Ophelia, who was trying on a a tiara-like object with a gorgeous sapphire in the center of it on her head. He swallowed thickly, nodding. "Yeah. Sure, mate," his throat was dry.

"I mean it, Nott," Draco growled. "Stay away from her."

"I know, mate. I get it."

Nothing more was said on the subject.

Draco began to tell Theodore all about his mission, and what he was trying to do. The blonde was listening quietly, until Draco turned to talk to her.

"What if we use that necklace?" Draco asked her suddenly. "From Borgin and Burkes?"

"What will we do with it?" Ophelia asked, curiously staring up at him as if he was delusional.

"Curse it," Draco remarked, as if it were the most obvious thing on the earth. "With dark magic."

"How are we going to do this?" Ophelia asked. "You must be crazy to think you can pull this off by tomorrow," she rubbed her forehead.

"I can help," Theodore reminded the pair.

"The necklace is broken," Draco took a gorgeous antique necklace out from his bag. "You two work on fixing it, while I practice the curse Aunt Bella taught me over the summer."

Ophelia looked uncomfortable at this. Theodore displayed no visible emotion on his face. 

"Please," Draco looked at Ophelia, his blue eyes looking so much like Narcissa's that Ophelia found it hard to say no.

They were running out of time; she had little choice. "Yeah, okay..." she murmured, taking the necklace from Draco's hand and following Theodore to where he led her to another area of the room of requirement.

They were alone.

Out of Draco's hearing range and line of sight.

Ophelia's heart was thundering in her chest, her fingers trembling slightly as she set the necklace on the floor. 

"Malfoy?" Theodore snapped his fingers before her face, snapping her out of her daze. 

She looked up at him, her chain of thought broken.

"You're going to have to put it on, so I can see where it's broken," Theodore handed the necklace to her. 

She had planned not to speak with him at all, but if they were to be helping Draco and working together, it just wasn't possible.

Slowly, she picked up the necklace, putting it on her collarbones, trying to clasp it from the back of the neck. But this was an old necklace; an antique. The clasp wasn't like the newer ones; it had a small lock that needed to be snapped into place by looking at it.

"I can't... I can't... close it," she muttered, standing up. "I'll just go ask Draco—"

"Here— let me," Theodore suggested, coming to kneel behind her.

Before she could protest, his warm breath was already felt at the back of her neck.

The floor instantaneously felt colder.

Her chest tightened; she couldn't protest. Or rather, she couldn't find the words to protest. She was rendered speechless once more.

Suddenly, her heart began beating faster, and he gently moved her hair to the side, the tips of his fingers gently grazing past hers as he gently took the clasp of the necklace between his slender digits.

She ignored the goosebumps that prickled the back of her neck. She shuddered, the shiver traveled down her spine as he clicked the necklace into place.

Every breath, every movement of his felt calculated and precise, tantalizing her to mess with her senses.

It was like the Devil himself had stopped time just to torture her.

"You're shaking," Theodore observed, adjusting the two broken pieces of the necklace around her neck.

Ophelia hadn't even realized she was trembling slightly. Her pink lips parted slightly, and she cleared her throat. "Uhm—" She needed to look for an excuse— quickly. "I'm cold," she blurted confidently, knowing that was a valid excuse.

Definitely not flustered by you. And definitely not thinking about your absolutely horrible kisses.

She mentally willed her brain to turn off her thoughts.

"Here—" Theodore took off his robes and draped them over her shoulders.

"I'm fine—" she began, but Theodore interrupted her once more.

"Don't want you catching a cold," he remarked, his tender digits slowly grazing across her collarbones as he tried to piece the broken necklace together.

Her chest tightened, her breathing shifting to light, tense exhales.

Before she could even comprehend what he meant by that statement, he'd already clarified her doubt.

"Draco needs your help tomorrow. If you're ill, you won't be of much use," he explained.

Oh. That's what he meant.

She didn't protest further about having his robes around her shoulders. The scent was terribly intoxicating.

Cigarettes and sandalwood.

Theodore had managed to make a head and tail out of the necklace, which was broken in the center; the metal having snapped into two after being handled roughly.

"So we need to use a welding spell to weld the metal pieces together," he explained, finding a shard of a broken mirror nearby— At least everything was so convenient in the room of requirement.

"Okay," she murmured, chest tight as she nodded rigidly. 

"Hold on, it might feel a bit hot against your skin, okay?" he asked, his dark grey eyes looking into hers with an emotion she hadn't seen before in them.

Was that concern?

"It won't.... leave a mark, will it?" she asked worriedly, eyes widening slightly.

"No," he shook his head, pointing his wand at her delicate collarbones, one hand holding the two necklace pieces together, his knuckles brushing against the hollow spot in her throat.

Her chest stopped working. She couldn't breathe at all. The ring on his pinky finger was touching her skin lightly, spreading it's coolness across her skin and stealing her warmth.

Muttering something under his breath, Ophelia noticed his brows furrow together as he concentrated. 

There was a yellowish orange glow, bright enough to be seen, but dim enough so as not to blind her.

And the necklace was fixed.

He slowly retracted his hands, letting the necklace fall into place on her collarbones.

It felt hot, where it had been mended.

She pair just stared at the necklace for a while. 

"It's fixed," Theodore finally said.

"Mhmm," Ophelia murmured. "Now I can take it off..."

She tried not to shiver as his cold digits brushed against the back of her neck as he took the necklace off.

He turned to go back to where Draco was, to give him the mended necklace, but Ophelia suddenly cleared her throat.

"Nott," she said quietly, barely audible.

"Yeah?" he turned around to look at her, his tall frame twisting slightly.

"Don't... don't mention anything to Draco," she breathed softly. "About.... that night... in the Astronomy tower," she clarified. "He can't know I was crying. Please."

"Yeah, fine."

The pair met with Draco, who had managed to learn how to cast the dark curse perfectly.

The thought terrified Ophelia. That her sixteen year old brother was now practicing Dark Magic.

That he had that much power.

He cast the curse on the necklace.

Ophelia was terror-stricken as she stared at that cursed object with wide eyes.

How could something so beautiful be so lethal? 

Anyone who touched the necklace would die instantly.

And Draco had done it.

"How are we going to get it to reach Dumbledore?" Theodore voiced, clearing his throat and staring at the cursed necklace.

Draco wrapped it carefully in brown paper, without touching it.

"Madam Rosmerta," Draco murmured. "She exchanges gifts with Dumbledore every time, it wouldn't be weird if she decides to send this to him."

"But—" Theodore voiced, before he was instantly cut off by Draco.

"I need to cast the imperius curse on her," Draco completed Theodore's question.

"Oh."

There was an awkward silence; a pregnant pause.

"Let's call it a night, yeah?" Draco asked, turning to walk to the exit of the room of requirement.

"Yeah," Ophelia and Theodore said at the same time. Ophelia was thankful Draco hadn't noticed she was wearing Theodore's robes over her own.

Cheeks pink, she muttered a thanks, piling them on Theodore's hands and heading off in the direction of her dormitory after biding her brother good night.

And as she entered bed, Ophelia's heart was still beating at that same erratic pace. 

The last time she'd felt this feeling was five years ago, when she wrote her last letter to her childhood best friend.

Because tonight she hadn't been with Nott, as she had expected, but she had been with him.

With Theo.

{ hey guys, another update : ) personally, i loved writing this chapter; i had so many ideas, and i couldn't stop. i hope you enjoy it just as much, if not more.
please, please follow me if you like this story, it would mean the world to me. trying to get to 1k followers before new years. 
spam me with comments as usual, that's what keeps me going, and please vote...
hope you guys are okay. don't know when the next update will be, but i hope this early update makes up for it.
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anyway, take care luvs. love, jasmine }

{DEC 23. 2023}