Chapter Text
Ophelia watched her reflection carefully in the full length mirror of her room. Everything had to look perfect. She slid her hand over her midnight blue dress robes, making sure to straighten any stray wrinkles that her mother’s spell had missed. Apparently pleased with the result, she stole one last glance at her hair and after deciding that it was as best as she could do, she exited her room to meet her family downstairs.
Her mother and brother were waiting at the bottom of the staircase, also wearing their best dress robes. Her brother didn’t even bother to look at her, only taking the sound of her footsteps as confirmation that she was ready and then walking over to the fireplace, she preferred it that way. Her mother, however, did exactly the opposite. She turned her head so abruptly that Ophelia was surprised she didn’t snap something.
A frown didn’t take long to appear in Cordelia’s face. “Whatever is wrong with your hair?” was the first words that welcomed Ophelia once she was finally at the same level as her mother. She refrained from touching it. “Did you use the potion I left for you this morning in your room?” she had opted for grabbing Ophelia’s chin and turning her head to watch her properly.
“Yes, I did, mother.” she assured her, trying not to wince at the feeling of her mother’s nails digging into the flesh of her chin. Hearing this, she let go and turned to address her brother, still waiting by the fireplace, a restless expression on his face.
“Phineas, why don’t you head over without us? I need to fix your sister’s mess of a hair and I don’t want to keep you waiting.” She said, grabbing her by the arm and starting to go up the stairs once more. Ophelia didn’t resist.
“Are you sure?” Her brother asked, trying to hide his satisfaction, something that he was really awful at if you asked her.
“Yes, yes,'' came her mother’s answer without even glancing at him. “While you’re there, find your uncle for me? I need to discuss something with him.” They were already at the top of the stairs when her brother’s answer came and seconds later a flash or green light and he was gone. “Now, come with me.” Cordelia dragged her to her own room and forced her to sit facing her vanity mirror. She left for a moment to, most likely, go fetch the potion that laid in Ophelia’s bed and indeed, came back carrying a bottle of purple looking liquid. It was a homemade recipe that a friend of the family personally brewed for her since the famous Sleekeazy's Hair Potion advised against its use on redheads. Another problem with her, her mother liked to say.
“You surely used too little of it,” she started, dropping a good amount of it on Ophelia’s hair. The sensation was anything but pleasant, the liquid was harmless but it didn’t mean that the burning that she was feeling on her scalp was something to be comfortable with. “You’re not a little girl anymore, Ophelia, I cannot be expected to style your hair every time.” she protested, combing a brush through her hair now, the former curls turning straight in an instant.
“Nobody is asking you—” The small surge of confidence was gone before she even noticed it. But the words were already said and the tugging of her hair was evidence of that.
“Do not talk back to me! Would you prefer to go out to society looking like a— Well I don’t even know what looks like this.” After a few minutes of more brushing, her mother finally seemed to be pleased with the results and stepped back. “Isn’t this better?” she asked, and Ophelia had to bite her tongue not to answer her. It was definitely not better but she was too used to it by now. “Honestly, It’s such a shame you took after your father’s side of the family, I had hopes, after your brother was born looking like me, that you would be the same, but no,” her face soured. “Your father’s ginger curls just had to make an appearance.” The bitterness in her voice was not concealed. “It’s just so…unladylike.”
Ophelia watched her mother more closely now, her perfect posture, slim figure and perfectly pin straight blonde hair. The perfect picture of a pureblood lady.
"Yes, mother." she replied in a monotonous voice, ready to be done with the conversation.
Her mother smiled. "That's my girl," she placed a kiss on the top of her head and started walking toward the door. "Now let's hurry, we don't want to be the last one's there. That's–"
“–terribly rude.” Ophelia finished for her, standing up from the chair and following her mother all the way down to the fireplace. She was ushered to go first and without a minute delay, the name Parkinson Manor was out of her lips and green flames were taking over her.
When she opened her eyes again, she stepped out of the Parkinson’s fireplace quickly to allow her mother some space and waited patiently until a minute later she was standing next to her. “I’m going to look for your brother, see if he found Hydrus. Go and wish your friend a happy birthday.” She gave her one last strained smile and disappeared behind the sea of people that were occupying the Parkinson’s ballroom.
Ophelia didn’t even try to correct her mother, but Pansy wasn’t her friend. Well, at least they weren’t what Ophelia believed friends to be, but they were on good terms, which in a way was more important seeing as they were roommates. Trying not to show how utterly out of place she felt, she started walking in search of Pansy, or any other familiar face for that matter. In the meantime, she decided to look around at the ballroom and noticed how different it looked from the last time she had been there. The Parkinson’s Manor was one of the biggest ones she had ever been in, only surpassed in size and luxury by Malfoy Manor, but nonetheless impressive. The ballroom was the biggest room in the house, Ophelia wasn’t sure how big but she figured The Great Hall in Hogwarts could fit two times in here. This time it was decorated in its entirety with silver adornments, and the ceiling had been enchanted to look like a million fireflies were illuminating the room —or maybe there were really fireflies, you never knew with the Parkinsons.
“Effy!” A shout in her direction finally shifted her attention from the ceiling to the brunette girl walking over to her, wearing periwinkle coloured robes. Ophelia smiled in response to her friend’s arrival. “By Merlin, I've been looking for you for ages, I even started to fear you weren’t coming and I was going to be forced to spend time with my family.” Anna wrinkled her face in disgust and Ophelia had to stifle a laugh. Annalise Fawley was her oldest friend and the sole reason why Ophelia even stomached this type of event.
“You know I wouldn’t miss the event of the year for anything,” she refrained from rolling her eyes but her friend got the sarcasm in her words nonetheless. “But anyway, have you congratulated Pansy already? I was looking for her.”
Annalise gave her a look that she didn’t like in the least. “Not really, I was waiting for reinforcements, she’s with the usual group and I don’t think I can face Blaise on my own at this moment.” Oh.
“Right,” she squeezed her friend’s hand in support. Anna and Blaise had just broken up before the end of term and Ophelia reckoned it was still a very fresh wound, moreso by the fact that he was the one who decided to break things off. “Well, shall we go then?” her friend nodded and still holding hands, both girls started to break through the mass of people in search for the birthday girl.
Not even five minutes later they found her, Pansy was difficult to miss. She was wearing a silver gown that contrasted with her black hair in an almost angelic way, the irony was not lost on Ophelia who knew her to be anything but angelic. Tugging on Anna’s hand, she started walking towards the group and upon catching them walking towards her, Pansy’s smile grew wider.
“Pay up Goyle!” Were the girl’s first words when they were within hearing distance of the group. Ophelia watched the mentioned boy grumble something under his breath and proceed to give some money to Pansy. After both girls had wished her a happy birthday and had said a general ‘hi’ to the whole group, Ophelia curled her eyebrow at said money, wondering what that was about. “Oh nothing, Goyle had bet me five galleons that you two weren’t coming and it so happens that I won!” The smile on Pansy’s face was contagious but Ophelia couldn’t shake the uneasiness that those words had made her feel.
“Why wouldn’t we come? It’s your 16th birthday!” Anna said, clearly with a very fake enthusiasm.
“Exactly what I told him!” Pansy screamed. “Probably because things are weird after…you know.” she slightly moved her head in the direction of Blaise Zabini, who was doing his absolutely best effort not to stare in their direction. Ophelia noticed how her friend’s face fell and she wondered if it had been better if they never found the group at all. “But nevermind that! Sit! Tell me how your summer has been so far.”
So, Anna started telling Pansy about her summer and Ophelia momentarily stopped listening, knowing all of this from the many times that she had floo over to her house during last month. Instead, she settled on looking over the other people in the group. Sitting next to Pansy, now listening intently to Anna’s words was Daphne Greengrass —Pansy’s best friend and the fourth member of their room back in Hogwarts— behind them, not listening to their conversation but immersed in their own one were the boys: Blaise Zabini, with his back turned on them clearly deliberately, Vincent Crabbe who was stuffing his mouth on what looked like an apple pie, Gregory Goyle looking like his tie was choking him and finally Theodore Nott, laying back in his chair and acting like the conversation was too boring for him. Ophelia’s eyebrows knitted then, there was obviously a very important member of the little club missing.
“Where is Draco?” The question escaped her mouth before she had time to stop it and she noticed the three girls looking at her with a weird face, clearly she had interrupted them and by consequence showed that she wasn’t actually paying attention. A bit of red rose to her cheeks.
Pansy was the first to recompose herself. “He will not be attending,” her voice was calm but tight, controlled, but Ophelia could tell that it was something that bothered her extremely and apparently she had poked her finger in the open wound. “He has…more important business to attend to.” She nodded, not being very keen on asking further questions. For all that was worth, Pansy had never had a reason to be mad at Ophelia and she certainly didn’t want it to be the first time, and less than all because of Draco Malfoy’s fault.
She continued to listen to Daphne’s summer news now. Apparently the girl and her younger sister, Astoria, who Ophelia was quite certain to have spotted dancing, had made a trip to France to visit their grandparents and Daphne had met a boy there. “Claude is a true gentleman, unlike…” she turned to look at the group of boys behind her. “...some. He is related to the Delacour’s, distant cousin I think but since my father is business partners with Fleur’s father ...Well, he introduced us." She faked modesty, to no one’s surprise. Daphne was a great girl, Ophelia liked to think that were she forced to only spend time with the girl, eventually she would enjoy herself, the only problem seemed to be the girl’s need to always demonstrate how she was better than you.
“So, he’s pureblood then?” Pansy questioned.
Daphne’s face looked horrified. “Absolutely! As if father would have introduced me to someone who isn’t.” Her face eased back to a smile. “So, we’re already writing to each other, in french of course.” Of course. Ophelia forced a smile onto her face.
“What about you, Ophelia?” Now Pansy’s attention was on her and she suddenly felt very small. Daphne had travelled to France, Pansy had spent the last month between balls and important gatherings and Annalise had started private Alchemy lessons with an important wizard to prepare in advance for the upcoming year and Ophelia had…done absolutely nothing. She had stayed locked up in her battered and isolated Manor without much company other than the occasional days when her mother allowed her to visit Anna.
“I…” Her voice wavered, she didn’t even have the imagination to make something up, anything that would make her look as interesting as her schoolmates.
“I’ll tell you what she didn’t do,” A low voice broke the awkward silence that she had produced by her uncertainty to answer, surprised by it, her face didn’t take long to sour when landing on the owner of it. “Anything of substance.” Her face reddened —not sure if it was from embarrassment or anger— when Theodore finished his sentence, with a mocking smile on his face.
“Shut it!” Anna scolded him, being the closest one to him.
“Why? Am I lying, cousin?” he addressed Anna personally now. “Or was she not at your place most of the time?” Now his focus shifted to her face, his drooping eyes boring into hers made her feel uneasy and forced her to look away first.
“That has hardly anything to do with—” Her friend’s fierce attempt to defend her only made her feel worse, but she didn’t find the words to defend herself.
“Sure it doesn’t.” Theodore said, a saccharine smile on his face.
She wanted nothing more than to wipe it off. But alas, that wasn’t very ladylike. So, she tried another way.
Forcing a big smile herself, Ophelia addressed him. “You, in contrast, must have had an exciting summer so far, Theodore” she noticed by the slight raising of one of his eyebrows that he was surprised she had decided to answer him, but was quickly replaced by a smug smile. Ophelia contained herself from barfing. “I’m sure I’ll read it all next week in the Prophet’s article under ‘ Massive disappointment to his family's name. ’” His smug smile dropping to a scowl was so far the highlight of Ophelia’s day. All three girls broke into fits of giggles and Ophelia simply smiled, even though that had felt good, she couldn’t imagine the amount of trouble she would be in with her mother if she ever found out she spoke this way to someone of a higher status than her.
She forced the thought away, nobody here had any reason to speak with her mother.
“How long did it take you to come up with that, Selwyn? A month?” He mocked her, his uninterested facade long lost.
“Knock it off, Theo.” Anna’s voice was a warning.
“Well, I happen to have the mental capacity to form thoughts on command, surely that must be a foreign concept to you.” There it was again, but this time unplanned. Somehow her tongue had decided to betray her and say the first thing that popped in her brain. She should bite it off next time. But right now, she couldn’t show weakness or regret.
Instead, she watched with a proud smile how her comment had seemingly thrown him off, losing momentarily his composure. “Whatever, I’m going for a drink.” Theodore got to his feet and forced his way off to who knows where.
Pansy and Daphne were looking at her then, with a shocked expression and open mouth. “Who are you and where did you bury Ophelia?” Pansy asked with an amused grin. A mix of satisfaction and utter dread located itself on her gut, making her smile tightly and hurry to change the topic of conversation. They settled on speaking about last week’s Witch Weekly magazine and the scandal that was printed there.
Ophelia tried her best to pay attention to the gossip but she found herself more often than not, drifting back to her previous altercation with Nott. She studied the ballroom, seeing if she caught sight of her mother, or brother, feeling like they knew already and it was only a matter of time until they came and took her away for a proper scolding. Not even back at school, had she allowed herself to really talk back to anyone in fear of her brother listening. Although it was true that he was considerably better than their mother, they didn’t have a very close bond and she didn't trust that he wouldn't simply rat her out to her. Thankfully this was going to be his last year in school, she only needed to watch her back for one more year and then she could be free to express herself however she pleased without having someone watching her every move.
“You alright?” Anna whispered on her side, while Pansy and Daphne were still busy with their conversation.
Ophelia decided to speak her actual concerns to her, because if she couldn't confide in Anna, she couldn’t do it to anyone. “I’m worried that I may have been too rude to Nott, and you know…” she looked back to the ballroom but Anna got it immediately.
She grabbed her hand and lightly squeezed it. “He was being a prick, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She assured her. “Plus, if he is dumb enough to go rat on you, I’d vouch for you.”
A smile made its way to Ophelia’s face. “You would side with me instead of your own family?”
Anna rolled her eyes, the same gesture that Ophelia had to force herself not to do, but Anna was in a different position. “Of course, you know the only person I can stand in my family is my mother, and she would side with you too.” she winked at her.
“You’re right, still…I think maybe I should go and—” she tried to stand up, being quickly pulled back down by her friend.
“Do not dare to say you’re going to apologise.” she hissed.
“Alright, I’m not!” her friend gave her a dubious look, not really believing her. “I promise.”
Annalise seemed pleased with this, and so she let go of her friend’s hand and turned back to enter the conversation once more. Ophelia tried to pay attention to it too, but her mind kept wandering about all the horrible scenarios that could happen and the anxiety was eating her alive. No words coming out of the girl's mouth seemed to make its way to her ears. After a moment, she excused herself saying she was going to the loo and nobody batted an eye when the sea of people swallowed her and she was no longer in the group’s eyesight.
She began to scan the ballroom then, looking for the brunet boy. She couldn’t help herself, she knew that if she did nothing she was going to spend the rest of the evening worrying. On a first glance, she didn’t see him anywhere and she almost stopped there, after all, that was more effort that he would ever put if the situation was reversed.
Actually, no. If the situation were reversed, he wouldn’t even be looking for her.
Still, she needed to rise above it. Finally she decided to start asking around, something so completely mortifying that Ophelia wouldn’t be surprised if her face had started to match her hair. The last thing she wanted was for the High Society to wonder why she was so adamant in finding Theodore Nott.
A short and plump looking man who Ophelia was almost sure was related to her in some way from her father’s side, was the only one to finally give her a proper answer and point to the room where he had last seen the boy enter. She overdid her thanks a little bit, so the man wouldn’t have any reason to think of her as ungrateful and then forced her feet to walk over to that room. Ophelia didn’t like this already, if he was not in the public ballroom, it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to follow him into that room. But she discarded the thought as soon as it popped in her mind, if these people knew what her housemates got into when they were at school, they wouldn’t worry about the propriety of Ophelia going into a room after Theodore Nott. Or they would. She wasn't making any sense.
She stood behind the door for longer that she was willing to admit, and when she finally found the courage to open it and step inside, she had to stifle a gasp before closing it again, but this time with her inside.
“Sweet Salazar, what are you doing?!” The darkness in the room managed to obscure most of it but Ophelia still spotted pretty clearly the figure of Theodore Nott and another girl— Elinor Travers? Or was it her sister Melody?— snogging. The two of them separated almost immediately and that’s when Ophelia realised it was actually Melody. She couldn’t think that her boyfriend would be too thrilled to know about it, and it showed in her face.
“What are you doing here? Are you following me?!” Theodore yelled back at her, hurriedly fixing his clothes.
“I—,” She didn’t want to answer and confirm to him that she had been, but for a very different reason that he was probably thinking. “Don’t turn this around! What are you doing? We are in Pansy’s home for Merlin’s sake! At least lock the door!”
“Ugh, I knew this was a mistake.” Melody pushed both of them away from the door and exited without as much as a second glance to either of them.
“Great! Are you happy now?” Theodore turned to her, clearly trying to blame her for whatever had just happened. The last thing she needed.
“If I’m—?” she wanted to scream at him, but then she reconsidered the situation. She was in a strange dark room, with the door closed, alone and with a boy. This was her mother’s worst nightmare. A part of her wanted to stay there just to spite her, even though she wouldn’t know. But then she thought about what would happen if she actually found out and suddenly her breathing started coming in more shallow. “I need to get out of here.” She basically yanked the door open and stepped back into the illuminated ballroom, the chatter and the sounds of music. Her breathing normalised.
A quick scan of the crowd signalled that no one of importance had seen her come out of that room, but you never knew with these people. Gossip was like air for them. She continued walking over to the nearest table and decided to grab a small canape to avoid speaking with anyone, but that only lasted for so long. Not even a minute later, Theodore had caught up with her and, grabbing her by the elbow, he basically dragged her to a more secluded corner of the ballroom. She didn’t complain just to not create a fuss but at the first opportunity she had, she snatched her elbow out of his grasp.
“What do you think you’re doing—?”
“I wasn’t done talking back there.” he interrupted her and she quieted down. He shifted his eyes from left to right, studying to see if no one was close. “You can’t tell anyone about that.”
The scoff was out of her mouth before she even had the time to suppress it. “And why would I care what you want?”
He took a step closer to her and she instinctively took one back. “Well, because just as easily I can lie and say that you made that up just to cover for the fact that I was actually with you.” Ophelia almost choked on the last bite of canape.
“What?! Why would you say that?” her voice came out shrilly and she quickly turned her head around to check that nobody had heard her.
“You fuck with me, I fuck you back.” The harsh words took her aback. But the resolution in his eyes was what actually worried Ophelia.
“I don’t want to—” she sighed. “You know, I was actually looking for you to apologise, for before.” she crossed her arms. “But now I realise how stupid I was.” She noticed a twinkle of surprise in Theodore’s face, he probably didn’t think she was capable of saying any swear words, even a mild one.
“Fine, let’s do a deal, I forgive you for before and you don’t tell anyone about what you saw, how does that sound?” He stretched his hand in front of her, expecting her to shake it.
She wanted to laugh, did he think she was actually stupid?
“Right, and lose the precious opportunity to have some leverage over you? I don’t think so.” Her voice came out evenly, nevermind the sweatiness of her palms or how her heart was racing from just that. This was a dangerous game she was playing at, she didn't know what had gotten into her.
She expected Theodore to be furious, yell at her or even threaten her like he almost had before, but against all odds, he smiled. An amused one, as if this was by far the funniest thing that had happened to him all day.
“Cute, is this your attempt at blackmail?” he asked with that damned smile still on his face. Ophelia didn’t actually know, is that what she was actually doing? How had she ended up here? “Because if it is, I hate to break it to you, but it’s not very good.” he shrugged and took another step closer. Ophelia went to take another one back but her shoulder collided with the cold wall behind her. Theodore surely noticed it because he took yet another step forward, the tip of his shoes almost touching her own.
She was trapped, of course she could always push him off but that would probably turn some heads and she didn’t even want to think about explaining why she was in that situation to begin with. She should’ve just listened to Anna. “You know,” he spoke again. “How it usually works is, you know some information about a person, and you want something in return so, what do you want?”
Her eyebrows lowered in a frown. “I don’t want anything from you.” The disgust in her tone was totally missed by him.
“You sure?” a lopsided grin was in his face before he decided to get even closer and whisper close to her ear. She had to hold her breath. “Personally, I find you to be a very dull and boring girl but, I wouldn’t be opposed to trying—” She didn’t know what angered her more, the fake low voice that he was going for, his breath reeking of alcohol or the implication of his words. Propriety be damned.
Ophelia used both of her hands to push him off and in the suddenness of it, and because he was probably caught off guard, Theodore almost fell to the floor.
“Ugh! To think I ever wanted to apologise to you,” she fixed her robes and turned her attention back to him, the amused smile replaced by a scowl. “You are really just a wanker!”
“ Ophelia .” A deep and rough voice coming from behind her made the blood in her veins chill. She refused to turn around but judging by Theodore’s attempt to fix his appearance, Ophelia was sure of who was standing behind her.
Forcing herself to turn, she fixed a pleasant smile on her face. The man in front of her was short and stocky but commanded respect nonetheless, his ginger hair was a mirror of hers with the exception that he was allowed to wear it in his natural state of curls. “Uncle.” She made a minimal bow and stayed looking at the floor, unable to make eye contact with him.
Next to her, Theodore spoke too, his tone now missing all the mockery and superiority that he used to address her. “Lord Selwyn, I—”
“You’re dismissed, Mr. Nott.” her uncle said without as much as a glance at him, seeing as when Ophelia raised her eyes to his once more, they had not moved. “I need to speak with my niece.”
Theodore, being the slimy snake that he was, left without so much as a look towards her. When they were finally alone, Ophelia’s heart started beating so fast that she feared it might burst out of her chest. This was the worst possible outcome, she would’ve even preferred if it was her mother who found her, at least with her she knew what to be expected. But her uncle, he was a man of few words and none of them had ever been said in Ophelia’s direction, so to have him saying that he needed to speak with her…the sweatiness of her palms was indication of how it made her feel.
“Uncle, I can explain what—”
“There’s no need for that.” he simply said, his voice was stern but then again, she never recalled hearing it any other way.
“It’s just that Theodore—Mr. Nott, I mean,” his uncle had raised an eyebrow at hearing her call him by his name, that was something that you simply didn’t do. Of course, everyone at school did it, but it was different here. There were certain rules. “He–” she considered what she was doing, what was she going to tell her uncle? Explain the situation? The sole thought of telling him what Theodore had said sent her heart into a thousands beats per minute.
Her uncle’s frown softened for a minute and the sight of it almost surprised her. “Walk with me, there is someone I want to introduce you to” Her mouth was already opening to ask who when he spoke again. “But you’ll need to be in your best behaviour, unlike before.” The shame that those words provoked in Ophelia was immense but she wondered why he wasn’t being more severe with her. Her mother would’ve already made her drink her hair potion as punishment.
So, she followed him through the ballroom, unsure of where they were going but unable to do anything to figure it out. When the mass of people cleared a bit and Ophelia found herself in the opposite side of the room, she noticed that her uncle was walking towards a group made up of men. Most of them Lords, although there was the occasional younger brother that was only just a Mister. Much like her uncle had been, before her father passed away.
As tradition stated, her brother was actually supposed to bear the Lord title after her father's death, but considering that Phineas was only thirteen years of age when her father got sick, he had written in his will that until he came of age, the title would pass to his brother instead. Since that moment then, all lands, properties and responsibilities have been relayed to Hydrus. But her brother was turning eighteen next January so it was only a matter of time now.
She turned her attention back to the group that she was walking towards and she fought the impulse to turn around and run away from it. Many of the men there were familiar faces, even if she had never been properly introduced to them, she knew them from past events, the only Lord that she was actually acquainted with was missing and the reason for it sent a chill down her spine. The absence of Lucius Malfoy was no surprise, nor were the reasons for it. Ophelia had learned about what had transpired at the Minister of Magic in bits, part of it from articles in the Prophet’s, part of it from brief words said by Headmaster Dumbledore upon his return to school and most of it straight from the mouth of her friend Annalise since her own mother didn’t like to discuss such things.
Her mother had many flaws, but at least she was not as hateful as so many of the people in the room right now. She figured it was due to her own upbringing, the Macmillan family despite being fully pureblood, were not so caught up in the blood purity prejudice, neither had her father who she didn’t recall talking about half-bloods or muggle-born in a despective way, at least not frequently. The same couldn’t be said about her uncle.
She forced her mind to stop wandering and her heart not to beat too loudly, afraid of these people hearing it. With every step closer she took, more eyes set on her and more was her desire to vanish into thin air. She didn’t know why on earth her uncle would want her to meet any of these men, but she didn’t allow her paranoid mind to ponder the possible reasons. In total there were ten men, much fewer than she knew there normally was. She didn’t know how many… death eaters had been captured and locked in Azkaban but she figured the number must be along those same lines and the realisation flushed all colour from her face.
In a sudden move, her uncle gently grabbed her elbow and turned her attention to an older man with greying hair and holding the weight of his body on a black cane with a marble-like handle. He was talking to two younger men and from the looks of it, he commanded respect. When the old man in question noticed their arrival, he stopped his conversation and turned to face Ophelia and her uncle, an attempt at a smile in his face that resembled much more a grimace. Ophelia returned the gesture and waited until one of the men present decided to explain why she was there at that moment.
“So,” the old man broke the silence finally, his voice was strong and firm despite his appearance and she tried not to let the surprise show in her face. “This is your niece, then?”
“It is,” her uncle answered, like it wasn’t obvious. “This is Ophelia.” she made a small bow, unsure of how she was meant to properly introduce herself to this stranger. “Ophelia, this is Lord Tiberius Nott .” As soon as her uncle’s words left her mouth, a cold dread set all over her body.
Lord Nott? As in Theodore’s grandfather?
Well, obviously it wasn’t his father, she knew his father personally. The same father that was Anna’s uncle and that right this moment was locked up in Azkaban with Lucius Malfoy because he also had been involved in the attack at the ministry.
And this was his father’s father, wanting to speak with her. She was going to be sick
Ophelia tried not to show her fear so plainly in her face but her smile felt strained now and she was sure that she was looking paler by the minute. Why did Theodore’s grandfather, not exactly a death eater but close enough by her definition of it, wanted to speak with her? A horrible and ridiculous thought sparked in her mind just then, what if he had heard about how she cussed out his grandson and now—No, that was impossible, her uncle was already looking for her when that happened. She forced herself to breathe and tried to stop the voices in her head.
“A pleasure,” Lord Nott lowered his head in a small courtesy. “I apologise for keeping you off the party, but Hydrus here had been speaking so highly of his niece that I just needed to meet her myself.” His words were registered by her but she couldn’t make sense of them. Her uncle had spoken highly of her? But he barely spoke to her. She made an effort not to show her confusion and lowered her head in an attempt to look humble.
“Oh. He is too kind but—”
“None of that,” her uncle interrupted her. “I only speak the truth.” He placed his hand on Ophelia’s shoulder and she resisted the urge to shake it off. Instead, she kept her smile firmly on her face, unsure of what to say next. Was there a purpose to this or did her uncle merely wanted to ‘show her off’?
Thankfully for her, it was Lord Nott who decided to speak next, she couldn’t bear awkward silences. “Your uncle tells me you’re about to enter your sixth year at Hogwarts, correct?” she nodded. “Then, surely, you must know my grandson,” her face fell for a second before she had time to compose herself again. Noticing Lord Nott was pointing somewhere behind her, Ophelia turned her head slightly to catch the boy in question entertained in a dance with one of the Carrow sisters.
“She does.” Her uncle decided to answer for her and she hoped Lord Nott didn’t notice the way her ears had grown slightly hot in shame.
“I see.” He exchanged a quick look with her uncle that if Ophelia hadn’t been so focused on the old man’s face, she would have missed it. What did he see? “Then I will take no more time out of your night,” he made a quick bow with his head and she returned it with a courtesy, unsure of what just had happened. “It was a pleasure, Miss Selwyn.” She barely had time to answer, noticing then that she had hardly said a word during the short exchange, before he was walking away, rather fast for a man who half his body was relying on a cane, and left her once more alone with her uncle.
Being a man of few words, or at least with her, her uncle didn’t make the first attempt to speak, so Ophelia decided to seize the opportunity. “If there isn’t anything else—”
“Actually,” he began, cutting her off and making a new wave of worry set in her lower stomach. “I think you are going to be leaving now.”
She couldn’t hide the surprise in her face, her eyebrows shooting upward. “Leaving? Why–?” She couldn’t leave without bidding goodbye to Anna at least, the girl still thought that Ophelia was just going to the loo and now enough time had passed for that to be believable.
“Your mother had mentioned she had a bit of a headache, best of you to accompany her home.”
“But Phineas—”
“Phineas is almost eighteen now, he can stay at the ball, unchaperoned.” ‘Whereas you can’t’ were the unsaid words of her uncle. She couldn’t believe it. What was he then? A statue? What was his purpose as head of the family then, if he was only going to pick and choose when he wanted to play the role of her father.
“Right.” She bit her lip, forcing the argument out of her lips. But judging by the look in his eyes, he didn’t believe her one bit.
“I know you think it is archaic, but imagine what would people say if I hadn’t been the one to find you back then? Imagine what your mother would have said?” he raised an eyebrow at her, the gesture reminding her enormously of her father, his disappointed face “If anything, I’m being more than agreeable.” The stern look was back in his face and a sudden anger started to boil inside Ophelia’s chest.
She forced a breath in. “Good evening, then.” With a sudden turn, she walked away from her uncle, trying to calm her anger down, lest she encountered someone she knew and had to exchange pleasantries. A chaperone? For what? She highly doubted it was necessary to hang with her school mates. After all, they did spend whole years living together; you could argue that the professors acted as chaperons then but really, they were barely aware of everything that happened at the castle. It was absurd, and all of it because of Theodore Nott and his ability in being the most insufferable boy alive.
If she never had to cross paths with him until the beginning of the school year, she would consider herself lucky.