❝ 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧... ❞
theodore nott x fem oc
*very slow burn*
this book is written for, and dedicated to all swifties out there.
rated mature for explicit violence, graphic de...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
KNOWING HER REPUTATION,OPHELIA OPTED it best to find an empty compartment as she made her way down the train, dragging her trunk behind her, with great difficulty, since it was thrice as heavy as her, and she'd managed to fit in her brand new French wardrobe into it, with the help of an undetectable extension charm, courtesy of her father.
Her choice of clothes today were a stylish dark blue mini-skirt, and a sleeveless, light-pink blouse with ruffles at the front, paired with a pair of white, heeled wedges. She'd also started applying light makeup, her prominent features emphasized by eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss, her skin having a natural glow and blush to it. She could easily be mistaken for a fourth year.
"Need help?" came a pair of synchronizing voices from behind her. She whirled around at top speed, coming face to face with the Weasley twins.
They'd barely spoken to her, and when they did, it was to tell her exactly how foul her brother and father were, emphasizing that she was just as rotten as they were.
"No thanks," she replied curtly, continuing to drag her trunk across the floor, uncaring of the screeching sound it made as it moved an inch with every tug.
"Are you new?" one of the twins asked her, nudging the other to keep silent.
"No," she answered shortly. She didn't want to cause any fights or drama within the first five minutes of her arrival, but if the Weasley twins persisted to annoy her, there was no telling what she'd do.
"Which house are you in?" questioned the other twin. "Don't recall seeing you around here."
"Gryffindor," she said with a proud, arrogant shrug.
"Blimey George," said the other twin, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the name on her pink trunk. "Ophelia Malfoy got pretty over the summer."
"You're joking," said the other twin, peering at her. "Malfoy?"
Ophelia so badly wanted to say something really rude; she didn't like the way the Weasley twins objectified her. Remembering her promise to her mother, she nodded singly and sighed, turning around and proceeding to drag her trunk across the train, blocking the most of the way.
"Would you like help with that?" George asked.
She shook her head and moved her trunk another inch forward.
"C'mon George, let's leave her alone," said Fred.
"Fred, she's clearly struggling," George continued.
"She's a Malfoy, she won't take help from bloodtraitors like us," continued Fred, with a bitter taste in his mouth as he said 'Malfoy'.
"She, can hear you," remarked Ophelia, loud enough so both of them could hear her. "And she has a name, and would not like to be treated like an object," she snapped. "Looks like your manners in treating ladies in nonexistent," she said rudely. "Just like the rest of your manners. But I assume that's how children like you are raised. Didn't your parents teach you anything?"
