Pulling Strings - Theodore Nott

8. The lion, the snake and the insufferable boy who simply wouldn't shut up.

To add to her already bad luck, on Monday morning during the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Prof. Snape mentioned that some ingredients were missing from his private office and demanded to know who had been responsible for it.

The better part of the class was wasted in the professor's attempt to make the guilty one confess. In a stupid act of impulse, Ophelia turned around to find Nott's eyes and see if he looked as scared as she was feeling but it was to no-one's surprise that the boy in question had a careless look in his eyes and the characteristic clouded expression that made him look like he was finding this whole ordeal really boring. Still, she gave a little jump in surprise when his eyes turned to find hers and she returned her attention to Snape in a quick second.

It was clear from where Professor Snape had focused his attention, that he only suspected the Gryffindor students. Not once had he shifted his accusation to her herself or her housemates which in a way made her feel calmer. She probably should have felt guilty about it but she found that she couldn't. Besides, when this sort of thing happens, it's always a Gryffindor's fault.

She felt a soft elbow on her side and turned to notice Anna was getting closer to her. "Who do you think did it?" she whispered. "If I had to bet, my money's on Potter as usual."

She faked a short laugh but avoided saying anything. She wasn't sure that she could lie convincingly to her best friend, the fear of accidentally being discovered was too much. She didn't doubt that, if that were the case, Anna wouldn't rat her out to Snape but you never knew who else was listening. In this school, even the walls had ears.

When it was time for the class to end, Potter had already insulted Professor Snape in one way or another, gaining himself detention so the matter of the stolen ingredients was forgotten. She hoped for good.

In that constant state of anxiety is how the second week of classes went along. Ophelia tried to focus only in attending class and doing her assignments without bringing any sort of attention to herself. On Tuesday, she noticed that Phineas was paying much more attention to her, almost as if making sure that she didn't do anything that she shouldn't, which didn't help at all to ease her anxiety. Thankfully, as it always happened with her brother, he didn't last long at it, quickly being distracted by one thing or another, letting Ophelia relax a bit more. Until Friday came.

"I heard you have one of those meetings tonight." Her brother came to sit next to her in the Great Hall. She almost chokes on the chicken she was eating before forcing a big gulp of water down her throat to keep it down. Anna sitting in front of her just raised a brow at her, which she replied with a shrug.

Once she was sure there were no more traces of food in her mouth, she spoke. "I do..." Professor Slughorn had notified the members of his Slug club that on Friday he was going to be throwing the very first official meeting. Ophelia had initially doubted if she should attend or not, it had been clear from the last interaction that Slughorn was much more interested in hearing gossip about what her uncle was doing or discussing her dead father rather than getting to know Ophelia but Anna had convinced her to give it another try. I've heard that everyone who went to those meetings became someone important, she said, which Ophelia seriously doubted. Still, It wouldn't hurt to go to one more.

"Good. Now, listen to me." Phineas got closer to her. "You need to make sure that the old man likes you, the boys been tellin' me about how he has some really strong connections." Then he raised a finger at her. "You better not fuck this up." With a last threatening look, he stood up and went to sit by his friends once more.

Right. If she didn't want to go to this blasted meeting before, now it was granted to suck.

"What was that all about?" Anna asked her, looking at Phineas with a frown.