𝟎𝟓𝟐 | This Is Me Trying

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             AFTER KATIE'S ACCIDENT, THE GRYFFINDOR Quidditch team had a new replacement, who went by the name Demelza Robbins. She was the reserve, and now she played chaser alongside Ophelia and Ginny.

Harry had no doubt, heard about what happened between Ginny and Ophelia, and he was trying his best to keep the two apart and stop them from tearing each others' throats apart.

At least, during Quidditch, Ophelia and Ginny were able to put their differences aside and work as a team, which came as a relief to Harry, since he had no idea how to stop a catfight.


Draco hadn't been the same since The Katie Incident, as they called it. He felt guilty that another innocent person had been unknowingly roped into his plan and nearly died because of him.

And Ophelia was the person that understood this more than anyone else. She spent hours next to him in the room of requirement, as he drank while he cried into her shoulder, while she comforted him and told him it wasn't his fault.

"I'm so sorry, Draco," she would whisper. "Everything will be alright, I promise you. Someday, we'll be in Hawaii together with Mummy and Daddy and everything will be okay..."

Because she believed this.

And for a while, Draco believed it too.

But he realized this cruel world was too fucked up to let him be happy. And he didn't have the heart to tell him that her dream would never come true.


And then, after days passed, each dragging by ever so slowly, Draco finally spoke those few words that enabled both himself and Ophelia to move on.

"We failed, and the Bell girl got injured in the process..." Draco began, his words slightly slurred due to the fact that he was intoxicated with his second beer that evening. "But honestly... I would have felt worse if we hadn't failed... If we had managed to succeed..." 

"The plan was a longshot anyway," Ophelia replied, stroking her brother's shoulder as he lay slumped over her lap. "If Dumbledore died..." she began, trailing off and shuddering; the remainder of the sentence too gruesome to think about.

"The war would have begun already," Draco finished the thought for her.

She nodded morosely in agreement. "And... we might have been forced to pick sides."

There. She said it. She confessed to the one person she trusted at the moment. This particular notion had been plaguing her mind for a prolonged amount of time; the fact that she wasn't sure she would continue to join the side of her ancestors— the side of the Dark Lord.


It seemed like Draco sobered up entirely just by hearing her words as he sat up. "You— pick sides?" he echoed, spluttering on his beer. He set the beer can aside and intensely stared into her eyes, a silent demand for her to explain.

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