Ophelia Black is the daughter of notorious killer Sirius Black. Ophelia's mother Portia Black (a veela) died with her friends Lily and James Potter and so did Ophelia... atleats that's what the world thought.
Follow along with Ophelia as she ventur...
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"This is mad. At this rate, I'll be the only one in our year without a date. Well, me and Neville. But then again, he can take himself," Ron rambled on, lamenting his lack of a date.
"It might interest you to know that Neville's already got someone," Hermione informed him, making Ophelia laugh at her brother's misery.
"Now I'm really depressed," he groaned, slumping onto the table. Harry, sitting next to him, rolled his eyes. The twins, a few seats down, overheard Ron and decided to tease him, tossing a paper that read, "Get a move on, or all the good ones will be gone."
"Who are you going with, then?" Ron asked Fred, who simply turned around and threw a piece of paper at a Gryffindor girl.
"Oi, Angelina? Do you wanna go to the ball with me?"
"To the ball?" she repeated, thinking it over before smiling. "Yeah, all right."
Fred grinned victoriously, turning to gloat at Ron, who slumped down again. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.
"Oi, Hermione... You're a girl," he said, making Ophelia laugh at his phrasing.
"Very well spotted," Hermione replied dryly.
"Come with one of us? Come on. It's one thing for a bloke to show up alone. For a girl, it's just sad."
"Ronald!" Ophelia threw a book at his face.
"Ow! What?! I'm just doing the same thing as you and Harry!" At this, Harry paled. He hadn't asked Ophelia yet. He was still contemplating after his conversation with Ron last night. He had decided to ask Ophelia out and then discuss the situation regarding Ron with her so they could decide together how to proceed.
But now that plan was trashed.
"As me and Harry?" Ophelia questioned, looking between Ron and Harry. Harry sighed loudly, burying his head in his arms. "Harry," Ophelia said teasingly, "were you planning on asking me to be your date?" she smiled.
"Oh, wait—he hasn't asked you yet? I thought he already had, considering last night he said he would ask you today."
"Last night?" Ophelia's smile grew as she reached across the table, pulling Harry's hands from his face and holding them on top of the table. "You were gonna ask me out? And you even told Ron about it?" Harry looked up at her and smiled. He couldn't help it; she looked so happy.
And she was. She was happy. This wasn't the romantic way she imagined him asking, but it wasn't his fault—Ron had accidentally snitched. Which meant Harry had a plan and genuinely intended to ask her.
"Yeah... I was planning to ask you myself later tonight. Alone..." Ron nudged him playfully.
"Mate, I told you, you don't have to do anything special. I mean, she's not Cho after all—" Harry elbowed Ron in the ribs to shut him up, but it was too late. The gesture only made him look more guilty.
