ALL YEAR, OPHELIA HAD BEEN having negative premonitions about what would happen at this very moment, when the Death Eaters stormed across the castle, taking what they wanted, and doing as they pleased.

Within seconds, chaos reigned. Students were scrambling from one end to the other, telling their friends to find a safe place to hide— there were even rumors of a werewolf being passed around.

Ophelia knew this was no rumor. Fenrir Greyback was here too. A shiver traveled down her spine, recalling the last time she had come face to face with Greyback last summer, when she accidentally interrupted a Death Eater meeting in a frantic search for Lucius. The werewolf had stared at her so intensely that the blonde had thought that he would literally pounce over the table and devour her.

"Lia, are you alright?" Theo had come closer to her, standing right behind her as she made her way to the exit of the Slytherin Common Room. "Where are you going?"

"I need to check up on Draco," she whispered, her hand finding his in the darkness. "Theo, I.. I'm worried about him..."

"I know," Theo murmured, pulling her to the door. "I'll come with you."

Much to her surprise, Theo insisted to accompany her instead of persisting her need to leave perhaps the safest place in the whole castle, at this very moment. The death eaters would never come here. They would never dare to hurt a single one of the Slytherin students. Never.

And as Theo led her through the familiar pathways, to the Astronomy tower, Ophelia's heartbeat  thundered through the eerie silence in her head, her mind occupying the single thought; was her brother okay?

The single idea of anything happening to him was enough for her to spiral out of control and begin to climb the spiral staircase, as fast as she could, leaving Theo rushing after her, calling her name.

However, the moment she had climbed the first flight of stairs that led to the tower, she found her path blocked by a tall figure, and a rather hairy one at that.

Once glance of him was enough to tell her that this was the infamous werewolf himself, Fenrir Greyback.

Her heartbeat only grew louder, and the blonde took a step back, only for heel to land on the very edge of the stairs.

One more step back, and she'd be sent sprawling backwards, down the stairs. 

She couldn't breathe. Every bit of her skin was covered in chilling goosebumps, her eyes widened as she stared into the face of death. She was fully prepared to use her last resort, to transfer into her animagus state and attack him, but before she could close her eyes and imagine herself as a lioness, Fenrir Greyback was thrown back by a violent force, perhaps a stunning spell.

"Get the fuck away from my daughter," a familiar voice growled, the owner covered in a mask and a cloak, pointing his wand at the werewolf and using a torturing spell on him. Ophelia's heart fluttered intensely, a million emotions flooding her at once.

The moment she set her eyes on him, she knew.

This man before her was Lucius Malfoy.

"Dad— Father," she breathed, forgetting that she was in the middle of a bloody fight, launching herself all over the hooded figure, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

"We need to get the hell out of here," Lucius replied, sparing no time for dramatic reunions. He would save all of that for home. 

"No, but Draco—" 

"Severus will bring him," Lucius interrupted her. Though he sounded much, much weaker than she remembered, he still carried the authoritative, commanding presence, much like the only Ophelia possessed. 

And as Lucius shifted his attention to talk to Snape, Ophelia's eyes fell on Theo, who had finally managed to catch up to her. 

"We'll see each other in a few days, Principessa," he whispered softly, kissing her forehead. "I promise."

"Take care," Ophelia replied, watching Theo wave goodbye to her and turn around after giving her a smile that held promises of a future in which they would meet again.

Before Ophelia could properly hug her father, let alone greet him, Lucius had already grabbed her smaller hand in his own and began to run down the stairs, guiding her through the darkness.

"You must do exactly what I say, and as I say so, are we clear?" 

"Y-yes," she stuttered, struggling to keep up to his speed as he led her through the Hogwarts corridors. 

When Ophelia tried to make sense of where he was taking her, she found herself running through a corridor she had been in only once by accident. She was about to tell Lucius that this corridor was a dead end, that they would get nowhere, but instead, when they were face to face with the constellation painting at the end of the corridor, Lucius tapped three of the brightest stars in the Cassiopeia constellation and the painting swung forward to reveal a narrow, wooden door.

"Alohomora," Lucius murmured, unlocking the door and helping Ophelia through the narrow opening, squeezing himself through just barely.

When Ophelia found herself following a spiral staircase that led her outside, right behind the Quidditch stands, she was completely surprised. In no way had she ever imagined that particular corridor leading here, of all places. 

Sometimes, she tended to forget that he too attended Hogwarts, and he probably knew it better than she did. 

"There's a portkey here," Lucius told her, leading her to the Slytherin stands. She had never been to this part of the stands before, underneath all the benches. She was always either on the pitch, or the Gryffindor side.

The portkey happened to be a Shooting Star broomstick, which so old and so slow that even if it were found, no one would even bother to touch it.

It was practically trash.

"On three," Lucius told Ophelia, adjusting the silver mask over his face. "It'll take us straight home."

It was that particular moment that Ophelia grew suspicious. She realized now that she had no proof that the man standing before her was even Lucius Malfoy.

"Wait," she said shakily, pointing her own wand at him and disarming him quickly. "How.. How do I know you're my father?"

The masked man lifted his fingers and touched the silver mask on his face, pulling it off for a brief second.

Eyes identical to her own met her gaze, and she bit back a gasp at how weak and frail her father looked. Wrinkles were more prominent on his face, and he looked much paler than she remembered. 

"It's me, Princess," Lucius murmured, sounding more defeated by the minute, crumbs of the strong, powerful man he once was.

Ophelia couldn't say anything. Instead, she nodded and picked up his wand, before waiting for him to count to three so she could grab the portkey.

When her hands touched the broomstick handle, she felt an invisible force tugging her forwards from her belly button before she felt her feet lift off the ground and everything begun to spin. 

She materialized in the grounds of Malfoy Manor, also known as home.

Lucius' cloak billowed out behind him as he took quick, purposeful strides towards the main entrance of the Manor, only slowing for a moment to close the door behind Ophelia. Even in the safety of his own home, he didn't stop moving.

"Your mother's upstairs," he told Ophelia quietly. "I'll meet you upstairs in a moment." 

She opened her mouth to say something, but by the time she had formed her words, Lucius had already left her alone in the foyer, and Ophelia was face to face with his retreating figure, which looked like he was heading into the dungeons.

An eerie chill spread through her bones, as she began to climb the spiral stairs, realizing that Voldemort still took residence here. 

She passed by the first floor, then the second floor, and the third floor. Her room was on the topmost floor, the fourth floor. Lucius and Narcissa had their own wing, the West wing, whilst her room and Draco's room were in the East wing. There was a South wing too, which contained two spare bedrooms. 

Ophelia headed to her room, instantly writing a letter to Theo, with the intention of checking up on him and asking if he got home safely.

Dear Theo,

I already miss you. I didn't like the way we had to part, I wish I had gotten to give you a proper goodbye, even though I know I'll see you again soon. 

I hope you're okay. Please take care of yourself. 

I love you.

Love,
Ophelia Malfoy.

She also decided to write one to Colin.

Dear Colin,

I would like to apologize for not wishing you a proper goodbye. But I'm sure you understand why I had to leave so fast.

I don't think it's a good idea for me to write to you any more. I'll see you at school in September, I hope?

Have a lovely summer.

Love,
Ophelia Malfoy.

Rubbing her temples, she remained seated on her desk, taking out her little flask and taking a few sips of her firewhiskey, already feeling much lighter and stress-free with the alcohol in her system.

Ophelia went to the West wing to greet her mother after taking a bath, who looked slightly more healthier than the last time she had seen her, which happened to be Christmas. It seemed like Lucius' release from Azkaban had affected Narcissa for the better, and for that, Ophelia was grateful that her family was whole once more. 

Her mother had been knitting when Ophelia found her, listening to Bach. 

"Hello, Mum," Ophelia announced her presence, reaching forward to embrace her mother, hugging her tightly.

"Oh, Ophelia," Narcissa murmured, lips curving into a smile. "What a pleasant surprise... Is everything alright? How come you're home early? Where's Draco?"

She nodded. "Father brought me home," Ophelia informed her mother. "He said Professor Snape will bring Draco home."

"Oh," Narcissa clutched her heart, pressing her lips to her daughter's forehead. "Is Draco alright? Did he... do it?"

This was the question she had been dreading. Did Draco kill Dumbledore? She didn't know the answer. Dumbledore was dead, but she had no clue who had done it.

Is my brother a murderer?

"I... I don't know, Father brought me home before I could ask anyone what happened," the Malfoy heiress answered, hoping with all her heart that it wasn't Draco who did the deed.

"Let's pray he gets home safely," her mother sighed, running her hand gently down Ophelia's back. 

"I know he will," Ophelia had faith in her brother's abilities.

It was late in the evening when Lucius Malfoy finally knocked on Ophelia's pink bedroom door, when she was seated on her bed with Princess Cleopatra, who had been brought to the Manor by Snape, reading one of her muggle romance novels, Theo's flask of firewhiskey in her hand.

Ophelia quickly placed the flask in her bedside table, before she opened the door, launching herself all over her father to hug him properly, telling him she missed him as she peppered kisses all over his cheeks.

Lucius merely responded by wrapping an arm around her waist and patting her back with his other hand. He used to be a whole lot more affectionate towards her, but Azkaban had changed him. Now, all that remained of him was a tough shell of the man he once used to be.

"Is Draco home?" Ophelia asked him in a soft tone, not wanting to break the first precious moment between her and her father in more than a year.

He nodded singly, before rapidly pulling away from her, his expression suddenly stern, and his gaze cold. His steely gray eyes were icy and expressionless, devoid of all emotion except burning anger.

In all her life, Ophelia had never been on the receiving end of this expression, even though she had seen him angry numerous times.

At that very moment, her heart clenched, and the tips of her ears turned red, the red hot sensation of fear flooding through her veins. Had Lucius found out about her and Theo? Because that was the only thing she could think of that would get him this angry.

"Have you been drinking?" he asked, struggling to maintain his composure.

Her heart thudded. 

Oh.

She wanted to lie, to tell him no, but before she could form the words, he had spoken again.

She had taken too long to answer.

"I asked you a fucking question, Ophelia," he growled. "Have. You. Been. Drinking? And don't even think of lying to me."

Her eyes watered at the tone he had taken with her, and she suddenly felt ashamed of herself, of tainting the perfect image he'd had in his mind of her.

But at the same time, she was angry. Angry that he sheltered her so much when the rest of the people her age were out drinking and partying all night.

"J-just a little bit," she started, her voice defensive, fully prepared to launch into an explanation.

"Are you allowed to drink?" Lucius asked, and even though his tone was soft, Ophelia knew he was seething.

"N-no, but—"

"Then who the fuck allowed you to drink?" 

She'd never had Lucius, or anyone else for the matter, speak to her like this, and she didn't like it. So used to being pampered and spoiled by him, being on the receiving end of his wrath was a negative change for her that she did not like one bit. Tears spilling down her cheeks, she found herself unable to do anything but feel helpless.

"But Daddy—"

"Don't call me that," Lucius interrupted her coldly. "You're not my daughter. I don't know who you are, or what you've done to my daughter, because my daughter listens to me."

With that, Lucius turned around, balancing on his serpent-head cane, in the direction of the door.

Filled with the sudden urge to defend herself after feeling very small, Ophelia argued back.

"Well, I grew up!" she said loudly, making Lucius' hand hover over the doorknob, without turning to face her yet, his head tilted slightly sideways as he listened to what she had to say.

"I'm not little anymore, Father!" she said indignantly. "I'm sixteen, I'm going to be seventeen next year. I don't understand why you're so upset— you and Mum used to drink when you were younger than me, and loads of people my age drink too—"

"Well, the loads of people your age that drink don't have a drinking disorder—" Lucius finally snarled, gritting his teeth in frustration.

The revelation burst the bubble in Ophelia's mind, turning it to shards of shattered glass scattered all over the floor.

"I.. I don't have a drinking disorder," Ophelia replied, tears spilling down her cheeks at Lucius' accusation. 

"Your mother has it," Lucius said quietly, with a heavy sigh, his anger simmering down, below the surface, at the sight of his precious daughter in tears. "You know that, don't you?"

She nodded slowly. "But that doesn't mean I have it.."

"There's a sixty percent chance you have it," Lucius told her. "And I don't want to take that chance. So unless you're willing to go through rehab, you'll continue drinking. Are we clear?"

"Yes Father."

And though Ophelia loved the taste of firewhiskey, she decided to stop drinking for her father's sake. He was already hurt so much by seeing her this way, and she did not want to disappoint him any longer. She wiped her tears away, looking up at his steely gray eyes, which had softened slightly.

"Come here," Lucius sighed tiredly, opening his arms for her. She moved to hug him tightly, feeling like a five year old girl once more, sniffling into his shoulder.

"You know I love you, don't you?" Lucius asked tenderly, gently stroking her hair. "And I want the best for you... I can't have anything happen to you. It'll kill me."

"I love you, Dadd— I mean, Father," she replied.

"If it's difficult for you to adjust to calling me Father, you can just continue calling me whatever is easiest for you," Lucius replied, a rare moment of a man so cold being uncharacteristically warm.

"But you told me to call you Father—" Ophelia reminded him of the summer two years ago, when news of the Dark Lord's return had just come out.

"I know I did, but if it proves difficult for you, then you can continue to address me as you always did."

"Can I call you Padre?" Ophelia joked, a small smile making its way onto her lips.

"No."

"What about Papi?"

"Absolutely not."

"Papa? Pop? Pere? Pa? Baba?"

Lucius replied to each one of them with a stoic 'No,' which only made Ophelia think of more and more absurd names to call him.

"Oooh, I know. Can I call you Paternal One?"

The edges of Lucius' lips curved upwards, very slightly, and Ophelia giggled, feeling victorious that she had managed to get him to smile.

"Absolutely not, that's a terrible name."

"Dad?"

"That's better."

Ophelia smiled, looking at him and feeling much happier than she had felt all year.

"I love you, Dad."

"And I love you, Ophelia."

{ sorry, sorry, so sorry guysss. i know this update is super late (like a month) and i really want to apologize... so i finished exams, then went on holiday with my mom, to singapore and malaysia, then came back. i hope you guys are all doing great, by the way...
first off, HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU GUYS!! what are your new years resolutions??
second of all, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1 MILLION READS LIKE OH EM GEE, I DON'T DESERVE THIS, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH!! i don't know what i'd do without you guys. thank you for having faith in me. i began this project two years ago, and i never believed it would ever reach this far. we are almost at the end of something beautiful.
one more chapter until the end of the half blood prince, and i can only warn you that it will be sad.
again, so sorry for the late update, and tysm for 1m reads. i love each and every one of you so much,,
please don't forget to spam me with comments, vote and follow. socials are in my bio.
love, jasmine. }

{ JAN 08. 2025 }