❝ 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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THERE WAS A MOMENT OF silence before the surrounding death eaters guffawed, snorting and laughing exaggeratedly in a manner designed to do nothing but mock and ridicule.
Ophelia had expected this.
Meanwhile the Dark Lord's lips twitched slightly, his nonexistent nostrils flaring the slightest bit. Snape, on the other hand, bore no sort of emotion on his face, save for the slight raising of his brow.
"Silence," she hissed, stamping her heeled foot on the stone floor, a sharp tap bouncing off the walls as she commanded the room with confidence.
She hadn't expected it to work, but then again, Ophelia was an enchantress of attention and confidence. She had been training all her life for this moment. All her years at Hogwarts, she had worn her head high and bowed to no one, despite being in a vulnerable position so many times.
She was the first Malfoy heiress to be born in a thousand years, after a long line of male heirs. She carried herself with poise and elegance, the dim firelight from the torches on the walls casting flickering shadows on her aristocratic features, her skin glowing slightly in the darkness of the dungeon.
"A favor?" Lord Voldemort asked incredulously, as if the mere thought of him bestowing a favor to someone else was utterly ridiculous. "Don't insult me, Little Malfoy."
"Wait," said Snape, waving everyone out of the room but Bellatrix. Everyone cleared out.
Greyback's finger gently brushed against her bare shoulder before he left, and Tiberius Nott's gaze raked over her with curiosity and... something more.
She shuddered, though took a deep breath once the room was empty save for Voldemort, Snape, Bellatrix and herself.
"A favor," Ophelia repeated, her silverish gray eyes boring into those of the Dark Lord, refusing to give into the part of her brain that was screaming at her to ask Voldemort for forgiveness and run. "In exchange for my loyalty."
"Now I'm interested," Aunt Bella quipped, waving her wand at the chair directly opposite to Lord Voldemort, at the other end of the table. "Looks like Lucius' precious princess might be the only brave Malfoy..."
It slid out slowly for Ophelia, who slid into it elegantly, placing her wand on the table, and her hands in her lap.
"Very well," the Dark Lord conceded, "I shall hear you out."
"I wish for the protection of my family," the blonde finally spoke, letting her words settle like a heavy blanket in the eerie quiet of the dungeon. "My father, my mother, Draco and... Nott" She clarified, using Theo's last name to disguise the deeper feelings she felt for her brother's best friend. "I wish for their safety."
