SHE HAD KEPT HER PROMISE. All of July, Ophelia hadn't drunk a single sip of alcohol, even though it took every fiber in her being to control herself from sneaking into the cellar to steal a bottle. 

Instead, she spent her days reading muggle romances that Astoria sent, and writing to both Theo and Astoria.

The seventh month of the year was rather uneventful and passed much too slowly for Ophelia's liking. The one thing she looked forward to every, single day was Theo's letters.

As the days passed, with every letter Theo sent, the blonde only grew more and more eager to see him. And whenever she wrote to him, asking him when he'd come and visit her, his answers would always be the same.

Soon, Principessa. When the time comes.

Ophelia waited and waited for the time to come, and finally, on the last day of July, when she had been giving Princess Cleopatra her bath, a letter from Theo came, as usual, the way it had always come every day of the month.

And as usual, Ophelia dropped everything and ran to get the letter from Little. She had suggested using her house elf to exchange letters because Theo had told her that using owls was a little conspicuous, and was sure to attract attention.

She knew there was something different about this letter, Theo had written back too fast... She left Princess Cleopatra in the tub, half soaped as she wiped her hands to open the letter, ignoring her cat's meows and growls.

"Be patient, Cleo," Ophelia warned, when her cat smacked her paw in the water, causing it to make a slight splash.

Cleo meowed even louder, flicking water towards Ophelia rather haughtily. Knowing her cat did not like water, Ophelia begrudgingly placed the half opened letter on her dresser, heading back towards the bathroom rug to continue giving Cleo her bath.

When Princess Cleopatra was finely asleep on Ophelia's bed, her white fur rested on the pink pillows, the blonde reached for Theo's letter once more, ripping it open without bothering with a letter opener.

Dear Lia,

I will be at Malfoy Manor tonight. I don't know if we will meet, but I'm just letting you know... My father wants me to join the Death Eaters, and you know better than anyone, I have no choice or say in the matter.

Draco knows too. I love you.

Yours,
Theo.

Her heart was thumping in her chest, and she realized that she had begun to sweat so much, to the point where the edges of the letter had begun to disintegrate in her hands.

Before she knew it, her hands were shaking, with fear, with worry. This couldn't be happening. Not to Theo.

She instantly wrote back, trying hard not to cry, to be strong. Because Theo never liked it when she cried, and if she wanted to be a comfort for him, she couldn't cry. She needed to be strong for him.

Dear Theo,

I wish you didn't have to do this. I know you have no choice, and I also know that us running away together is not an option... They'd find us.

Besides, I need to be here to support my family. Dad is still weak from Azkaban, and Mum is trying hard to be there for both him and Draco.

I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what happens. I wish you would have told me earlier, perhaps I could have helped in some way... I hope I get to see you. I'll be waiting.

Love,
Lia.

She didn't hear back from him. Instead, she went straight to Draco's room, showing him the letter, frantically asking him if there was anything that could be done to save Theo from this fate.

Draco said nothing, knowing that there was no getting out of this, but he still told Ophelia he would see what he could do. And then, after making sure his sister was safe in her room, he went to tell his mother to persuade Tiberius Nott into letting his son stay for the rest of the summer.

Ophelia stayed up late that night. At ten, she looked out of her window that overlooked the terrace, and the gates to Malfoy Manor, noticing three cloaked silhouettes making their way towards the manor, and her heart gave a fierce jolt when one of them put his hands into his pockets, much like the way Theo sometimes did when he was walking.

She had thought it wouldn't take long, that she'd see him in only a matter of minutes, but she was solely mistaken. 

She waited for hours. 

The ornate grandfather clock in the hallway chimed, indicating the arrival of midnight, and even then, there was no sign of Theo coming to visit her, or going back to the Nott Mansion. She heard no sound at all, all night, apart from her parents' scurrying feet outside her bedroom door, and though she wanted to come out and see what was going on, she couldn't risk her parents finding her awake this late in the evening.

She wouldn't exactly get into trouble, but Lucius would no doubt grow worried as to why she wasn't asleep, and Ophelia did not want to be monitored for the rest of the night. 

Not when she was planning to sneak out later on.

At around half past two, she heard the door of one of the rooms in the South wing, near her own open, and low voices that surely belonged to Narcissa and Draco converse in a low tone, but they were speaking was much too quietly for her to hear anything, even after she pressed her ear to the door. She was about to use a spell to eavesdrop, but the moment she grabbed her wand, she heard Draco's heavy footsteps heading towards his own room before the door clicked shut.

And then, her heart throbbed. 

His voice.

Theo's voice. It was low, and a little bit scratchy, but she could recognize it anywhere. And she heard her mother's voice as well. The voices were too low for her to hear anything once again, but when she pressed her ear to the wall, her heart clenched, shriveling up into the size of a bezoar.

Her hand automatically went to her mouth, covering it, to stop herself from making a sound.

She had only see him cry once before, the night during Slughorn's Christmas party, when she had found him completely drunk and taken him back to his dormitory.

Now, she could hear the little breaks in his voice, the sobs he tried to subside, and she longed for nothing more than to break the barrier between their bedrooms and go and comfort him.

The only thing that stopped her from leaving her room and going to check on him was the knowledge that her mother was with him, comforting him. 

Her mother's footsteps retreated towards the East Wing about half an hour later, and Ophelia's hand rested on her doorknob, fully prepared to leave, but she heard the faint sound of water cascading, and she knew that Theo had gone for a shower.

At this point in time, her eyelids had began to droop, and sleep threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to stay awake, waiting for Theo to come out of the shower so she could see him.

She had begun to feel cold, and her back had begun to ache for how long she had remained upright, stuck between sitting and standing for hours on end. 

Perhaps I'll move to the bed, it's a little more comfortable...

And so, she moved to sit on her bed, grabbing Anthony and Cleopatra, settling herself amidst the cool sheets and the soft pillows, suppressing a yawn. Five minutes later, she decided to lie down, and put the book aside, convincing herself that she would not fall asleep. 

When she finally heard the water stop, she was much too comfortable to get up. She kept telling her mind she was giving Theo time to get dressed and settled before she went to see him, but ten minutes later, at first light, Ophelia was already asleep. 

Because she had slept at dawn, she ended up sleeping all throughout the day, and even when her mother entered her room to check on her, and when Cleopatra kept climbing on top of her because she was hungry, she remained fast asleep.

It was only until the hours of the late afternoon that she finally woke up, her first thought of the day drifting towards Theo. Realizing that she hadn't brushed her teeth last night, or performed any of her usual nightly routine habits, and the fact that she had slept in the same clothes that she had worn all of yesterday, she suddenly felt the desperate need to clean herself up.

Entering her bathroom, she left the water running, to fill her tub, dropping an assortment of bath bombs and different oils into the water as she worked on her skin care, a meticulous, yet therapeutic routine she had gotten accustomed to.

She picked her outfit after her bath, opting to wear a mini summer knitted dress with long sleeves that covered half her fingers and a Bardot neckline, snugly hugging her figure. By the time she had eaten (Little had brought her chocolate covered strawberries), it was dusk, and the sun had already begun to set.

Draco entered her room when she was doing her hair, tying it up into a half-ponytail, held together by nothing but a white, satin ribbon.

"You look nice," he observed, scowling when Princess Cleopatra began circling his legs, clicking his tongue to shoo her way. 

"Thank you," she replied, wiggling her fingers slightly as she looked over her perfume collection, choosing her newest one yet, Dior's Hypnotic Poison, sent for her from France— from the Dior director himself, Gianfranco Ferré, a whole year before its official release date. Of course, her father knew Gianfranco himself, and often donated a favorable sum every year, for his wife and daughter to have the best of everything.

"Dressing up for Nott, are you?" Draco commented, leaning against the wall of her room, hands in his pockets, glancing at the way she carefully spritzed her perfume on her neck and wrists, a smirk tugging his lips. 

"Shut up," she replied, feeling her cheeks warm, looking aside to hide her blush. Her fingers carefully applied her lip gloss, deciding that there was no need for any other makeup beside a faint line of eyeliner. "How is he?" she asked softly, after a few moments of silence. "Is he awake?"

Draco nodded singly, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her head. "He's fine," he replied, ignoring Ophelia's attempts to push him away, and her complaints that he was messing her hair. "Just came from his room... He's gone for a shower."

"Oh yes, your hair," Draco remarked sarcastically. "Can't risk having Nott seeing you with messy hair, can you?"

"Draco!" she exclaimed, scowling and pushing him out of her room, making sure to close the door behind him and lock it.

Her mother had sent dinner up to her room, a bowl of French onion soup and another plate of strawberries for her, along with a note explaining that she and Lucius would be leaving the manor to sort out some work at Gringotts, and a reminder not to go below the third floor of the manor.

Once she had eaten, before the taste of strawberries had completely left her mouth, she finally decided that she couldn't wait a moment longer.

She needed to see Theo. She had given him enough space. 

She couldn't be patient for a moment longer.

Checking her reflection one more time in the mirror, and applying another fresh layer of gloss on her lips, she smoothed the skirt of her mini dress down and left her room, her footsteps quiet as she stealthily tiptoed towards Theo's room, gently rapping her knuckles on the heavy, wooden door.

"Come in," Theo's voice called from within, and her heart thumping in anticipation, full of longing, Ophelia turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

There he was, standing with his back towards her, a shirt in his hands, prepared to put it on.

He quickly turned his head towards the door, fully expecting to see Draco, but when he saw Ophelia instead, he whirled around quicker than a flash, curses slipping past his lips. 

"Fuck— Lia?"

He never wanted her to see his back, but it was too late. She had looked long enough to see everything he had tried so desperately to hide from her.

The wind was knocked out of her lungs the moment her eyes met his. He searched for an explanation, but none seemed plausible enough to explain what she had seen.

In all the years she had known Theo, she had never once seen him completely shirtless. He had always worn a shirt, even if it were left unbuttoned.

But he had never actually taken it off.

And as her eyes raked down the tight muscles of his back, and her lips parted slightly, she now knew why.

Theo's back was covered in scars.

Seven of them, to be precise. 

He had seven scars.

{ hey guys! no, i have not forgotten about this story... i just had exams... i was so swamped with work that i didn't have any time or motivation to update. anyway, i've finally updated :))
can't wait for the next chapter, it's got so much angst (and you know i love writing that shit). please, please give me a follow, and don't be a silent reader— comment and vote bc i deserve it >:(( 
my socials are all in my bio. anyway, spam me with comments and take care of yourselves.
lots of love, 
xoxo, jasmine. }

{ FEB 02. 2025 }