❝ 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...
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WHEN ONE'S MIND STATE IS temporarily disabled due to sheer panic and disruption of thoughts, they automatically try and escape it, finding a safe place to calm down.
Ophelia did not have a safe place.
Since she was young, it had always been Lucius. At Hogwarts, it was Draco.
Both were unavailable at the moment.
One was in the prison of the physical realm, the other was running circles in the prison of his mind.
She couldn't stop crying at the vision of Theo's eyes, which were full of sadness, but had been masked by a smile.
She couldn't stop running.
Running away from her boyfriend. The man she had left behind because she was too cowardly to talk about her feelings.
Because she was consumed by the guilt that bordered towards becoming self destructive, teetering on the edge of the control she had on her mind.
Filch was already following the trail of droplets from her soaking wet hair, all over his freshly mopped corridor floors, and Ophelia could hear him shouting at her to get back, but she kept on running.
She could feel all the tiny dust particles cling to her bare feet as she ran, but she didn't stop until she reached the library, ignoring Madam Pince's constant shrieks of disdain at the ruination of the peace at the holy sanctuary of the library when she left a stream of water accompanied with loud footsteps with every step forward she took.
Her breathing was abrupt, her lungs taking in brisk segments of air every time she opened her air pathways.
Her mind was dysfunctional, immersed in the extensive thoughts about Theo, whilst her feet transported her wherever they saw fit.
It had been a mere few seconds that Ophelia realized she did have a safe space at Hogwarts.
She was standing inside it at the very moment.
The secret nook in the library, behind the restricted section.
It took another few seconds to notice she wasn't alone.
Due to the mental turmoil that circulated her thoughts, Ophelia found herself unable to move, her feet firmly rooted in the spot.
Because her feet had not only taken her to her physical safe space, but her mental safe space too.
With a stare that could rival that of a statue, Ophelia's heartbeat began to quicken, and she could hear every single beat as the blood rushed through every vein, every artery, every single capillary, awake.
