The Chosen One (MattheoRiddle x Ophelia)

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ-21

I reached for "A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot" from my drawer and sat down on my bed. As I flipped through the pages, I was struck by the sheer depth of knowledge contained within. Every detail on magical creatures, spells, and potions was meticulously cataloged, and the wealth of information was almost overwhelming.

But as I delved deeper into the book, my eyes were drawn to a particular section on Dark Arts. There, in stark relief, was the name of Salazar Slytherin. My heart raced as I read the familiar details of his cunning and ambition, and his belief that only pure-blooded wizards and witches should be allowed to attend Hogwarts.

But my frustration grew as I realized that I already knew this information. I was just one student at Hogwarts, and there were thousands of books to sift through in search of answers. I threw the book aside in a fit of pique, unsure of where to turn next.

As I was about to give up, a single word caught my eye: Horcrux. It was a word that I had heard before, but I couldn't quite remember where.

As I picked up the book once again, I felt a sense of unease settle over me. The word Horcrux had captured my attention, but a sense of foreboding now accompanied it. I searched the pages, scanning for any mention of the powerful spell, but to my frustration, the book remained silent.

It was as if the word had been included as a cruel joke, a tantalizing hint at something forbidden, but with no further information provided. I felt a sense of anger and frustration well up inside me, as if the book was mocking me, daring me to uncover its secrets.

I placed the book inside my drawer, taking care to cast a powerful charm to prevent anyone from stealing it again. The memory of the last time it had been taken still stung, and I was determined to keep it safe. As I spoke the incantation, a sense of calm washed over me, and I knew that the book was finally secure.

As I descended the stairs to the dungeons, a sense of unease settled over me. The flicker of light coming from inside the cabin only added to my trepidation. My heart was pounding as I opened the door, and I was shocked to find Harry sitting there, my father's hand clutching his collar.

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

My father's voice cut through the silence, cold and commanding. "Ophelia, return to your dormitory at once."

But I refused to back down. "I have something to talk to you about, Dad," I said, taking a step forward.

My father's expression darkened, and he took his wand in his hand. "Perhaps our conversation can wait," he said, his voice laced with menace.

Snape gave me a dark glare, and I knew that I was pushing my luck. But I refused to leave without having my say.

"It's important," I said, my voice rising slightly. "I won't leave until we've talked."

The tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel the weight of my father's disapproval bearing down on me. But I refused to back down, and I stood there, waiting for him to respond.

My father stood before me, his expression cold and unyielding. "I've far more important things to do, Ophelia," he intoned in his monotonic voice. "I hope we can discuss this tomorrow."

I felt a pang of hurt as he turned away, his attention already focused on Harry. I had always been the one to whom my father gave priority, and the sudden shift in his demeanor was jarring. But I knew better than to argue with him, and so I turned on my heel and made my way back up to my dormitory, the door closing behind me with a soft click.

As I lay in bed that night, my thoughts kept returning to the book in my drawer. I knew that I shouldn't be thinking about it, but the lure of its secrets was too great to ignore. And so, with a sense of trepidation, I got up and retrieved the book from my drawer.

As I perused the pages of the book, my eyes were captivated by the story of Tom Riddle, the dark wizard known as Voldemort. The story of his rise to power and his insatiable thirst for control was nothing short of enthralling.

With each page, I was drawn deeper into the web of his malevolent intentions, as he sought to make himself the most powerful wizard in the world. His quest for domination was fueled by a cold and calculating ambition, and it was clear that he would stop at nothing to achieve his goals.

The next morning I slowly rose from the floor, I took a moment to collect my thoughts. The events of the previous night had left me feeling disoriented and confused. I carefully placed the book in my drawer, hoping to keep its dark secrets hidden away. The room was quiet, save for the sound of my own breathing. The morning light was just beginning to filter through the window, casting a soft glow on the walls. I took a deep breath and made my way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

As I walked down the corridor, I was joined by Luna Lovegood, who was holding a book in her hand. Her expression was as dreamy as ever, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes. "Good morning, Ophelia," she said in her usual sing-song voice. "Morning," I replied, my mind still clouded with thoughts of the book. Luna's eyes softened as she looked at me. "Are you prepared for the OWLs?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"OWLs?" I exclaimed, my confusion evident. Luna's expression turned to one of guilt. "Yes, Professor Umbridge told us last week. Sorry you weren't present," she said, her apology genuine.

As we made our way to the Great Hall, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The thought of the upcoming OWLs filled me with dread. The Great Hall was bustling with activity as students filled the tables, chatting and laughing over plates of food. I tried to put my worries aside and focus on the moment, but my mind was still racing.

As I made my way through the bustling Great Hall, my heart was pounding in my chest. I had to find Fred and George, and fast. I approached Hermione, hoping that she would have some information. "Hey, Hermione, do you know where Fred and George are?" I asked, trying to keep the worry out of my voice. Hermione looked up from her book, her expression friendly but apologetic. "I'm so sorry, but I don't know," she said, her tone polite but firm.

I gave her a nod and made my way down the stairs, my heart sinking with every step. As I rounded the corner, I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Umbridge standing behind me, her expression stern. "Miss Snape, I do hope you remembered that today is your OWLS. You wouldn't want to miss such an important examination, now, would you? Come along with me to the classroom, dear,"she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. I felt my stomach drop as I realized that I had completely forgotten about the exam.

I tried to pull away, but Umbridge's grip was like iron. "I have to find my dad," I protested, my voice rising in panic. But Umbridge was having none of it. "You can find him after the exam, Miss Snape," she said, her tone final. I felt a sense of dread wash over me as she led me down the corridor, my mind racing with worry.

As we traversed the corridors toward the classroom, a sense of unease crept over me like a shadow. Every step felt heavy, as if the weight of my anxiety was dragging me down. And the presence of Umbridge, with her sickly sweet voice and condescending manner, only served to stoke the flames of my loathing for her. The very thought of being subjected to her scrutiny once more was enough to send a shiver down my spine.

As we entered the classroom, I felt a sense of panic wash over me. The room was filled with students, all of them looking nervous and anxious. I took a deep breath and tried to focus, but my mind was still racing with worry. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves. The room was silent, except for the scratching of quills on parchment and the occasional cough.

With a heavy heart, I took a seat at the front of the classroom, resigned to my fate. As I began to read through the question paper, I felt a sense of hopelessness wash over me. I knew that I was ill-prepared for the examination, and that my chances of success were slim. And then, suddenly, a loud burst echoed through the room, causing everyone to turn in surprise. I looked up to see the Weasley twins bursting through the door, their faces alight with mischievous glee. The room erupted in laughter as the fireworks they had set off crackled and boomed, filling the space with light and sound. For a moment, all of the students forgot about their worries and fears, and simply enjoyed the spectacle before them.