MEMENTO MORI | DRACO MALFOY

SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

     Ravens, snakes and darkness plagued Ophelia's dreams that night. It wasn't unlike the dreams she'd recurrently been having since the Yule Ball, but every night seemed to get darker, more arcane. She didn't go back to Moody, she'd become too paranoid knowing that he was also meeting with Potter and helping him cheat throughout the tournament. She wasn't sure where Moody's loyalties lay, and what his true intentions were. She had been so careful, so wary of him at the start of term, but he'd somehow managed to make her trust him, even if only for a short time. She'd failed herself. If only her mother knew.

Despite having such vivid dreams, Ophelia hadn't slept much at all. She lay awake replaying the events of her entire day, from Snape and Karkaroff, to Potter badgering her, to Cassius breaking up with her over a relationship with Draco that didn't even exist. To say the least, her day was eventful. What really stuck out in her mind though, and what kept her awake, was wondering if there possibly was something there with Draco. He was always there for her. He made her feel something at the Yule Ball when she'd been made to look like a fool. He was always there to tell her Cassius didn't deserve her — and he was right. The warmness that Draco caused in her chest was something she'd never felt before with anyone else. It wasn't like there was anything negative about possibly having feelings for Draco Malfoy. He was a Pureblood with a wealthy estate. He was aristocratic, well dressed, poised. He understood her to an extent. He was handsome, and was getting even more so every year. But he was her best mate. She wouldn't dare risk her friendship with Draco. Not again.

When Ophelia glanced at the clock, she nearly leapt out of bed realizing she'd been late for breakfast by half an hour. She readied herself quickly before rushing up from the dungeons and into the Great Hall.

"You alright?" Blaise asked. "Not crying over Warrington were you?"

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "Fat chance." She snipped.

She quickly glanced up at Draco who had been watching her curiously and he quickly looked away when their eyes met and began speaking animatedly with Pansy. There was something off between them now, and she didn't like it. Blaise's eyes narrowed, but he didn't press further. "Well, you haven't missed the excitement, look!"

He gestured to the Gryffindor table where Hermione Granger was sitting with a cluster of owls surrounding her, each pecking at her and awaiting their treat. She had a thick stack of envelopes in front of her.

"What—"

"Hate mail." Pansy said smugly. "I'd have sent some myself, but it appears to me that Skeeter's article reached as far as I'd hoped."

Ophelia watched with narrowed eyes as Hermione ripped open one of the letters before thrusting it at Potter. Pansy pressed her palms flat against the table to push herself to stand. She sauntered over to the Gryffindor table, glancing over her shoulder to make sure her friends — especially Draco— were watching. She quickly snatched the letter from Potter's hand.

"Look what we have here!" Her shrill voice announced to anyone in their vicinity before reading. "'You are a wicked girl. Harry Potter deserves better. Go back where you came from, Muggle.'"

The Slytherin table burst into a fit of laughter. Even Ophelia couldn't help but grin. Pansy laughed smugly, tossing the letter back at Granger. "You can't make this shit up!" She howled, skipping back to her seat at the Slytherin table.

The Golden Trio were practically snarling at them at this point, but it didn't stop Granger from continuing opening her mail until one letter exploded, leaving a dripping, smelly liquid all over her hands before immediately erupting into large, red boils. This caused the Slytherin table (who had finally just calmed down from their last bout of hysterical laughter) to erupt into howling laughter once again while Hermione rushed from the Great Hall.