𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃; ʜᴘ (𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃)

𝟎𝟗𝟎; ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜʟᴇss

ASTROPHEL IS PISSED.

Ophelia grimaced.

She remembers this.

She hates others are going to see.

He was screaming loudly, constantly switching between English, French,
and Latin.

Those whom understood French and or Latin, were gaping at the screen at Astrophel's cursing. It was like nothing they've seen before.

"Prongs, your spawn is something else."

"I know, Padfoot. I know."

Which made it hard for Ophelia to understand. As she didn't know any Latin, she only knows conversational French at the moment.

"Well I'm learning now! Aleksis has happily agreed to teach me." Ophelia said.

"I didn't happily agree to anything. You wouldn't stop annoying me till I gave in." Aleksis scoffed.

"He's just grumpy he doesn't have his lysol." Aleksis had squeezed her thighs even tighter than before, causing her to bite her tongue to suppress a moan.

It was midnight.

He took her straight back the château, after the fiasco that was the, Winter Ball.

Astrophel calms himself and looks at her.

Ophelia is nervous.

Sure she had made him angry before— but never to this extent.

"Moonflower." He calmed himself as their unforgiving eyes met.

"Let me get you a history lesson. There hasn't been a Potter Maiden for centuries till you were born." Ophelia's eyes widen at that information.

The Potter's know this story.

This is why James is so protective.

Those versed in pureblood history knows this too.

Those who don't look curiously upon the screen.

"The last Potter Maiden before you was Andarta Potter. Named after the Celtic, Warrior Goddess of Victory and Andarta lived up to her name. She was exceedingly beautiful, and powerful. Just like you are."

The screen shifted to the Hall of Potter's.

Showing a portrait of a young woman.

With eyes of bright honey, a porcelain yet warm complexion, and long messy black curls of the infamous Potter hair flowed freely and framed her beautiful face, that holds an enchanting smile.

She adorned an intricate soft lavender silken gown an equally intricate pear necklace.

Plaque read— Andarta Cassandra Potter I.

"Hold Merlin..." Marlene whispered.

Many were enthralled by her beauty.

"I love talking to her portrait." Ophelia smiled.

"So do I!" Grinned James.

The screen shifted back to, Astrophilia.

"Many had sought her hand in marriage, but her father and brothers doted on her—"

People looked between Astrophel on screen,
and James himself.

"— and father declared he would not part with her unless she was in love with the wizard. On her seventeenth birthday Andarta was kidnapped by someone who had sought her out. She killed herself rather than be forced to marry a wizard she did not love."