autumn | severus snape

thirty nine

The ember of Ophelia's cigarette glowed faintly in the darkness, the cold night air biting at her cheeks as she leaned against the stone railing. The quiet solitude of the Astronomy Tower was her escape, her sanctuary from the chaos that seemed to follow her everywhere.

But tonight, she wasn't alone.

"I thought I might find you up here, Miss Delisle," came a familiar voice from the shadows.

Ophelia stiffened, turning to see Professor Brown stepping into the moonlight, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.

"Professor," Ophelia greeted coolly, flicking the ash from her cigarette.

"I was very sorry to hear about what happened to you last week," Brown said sincerely, stepping closer, the soft sound of her boots echoing against the stone floor. "However, smoking is against school rules, you know."

Ophelia shrugged, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I'll keep that in mind."

Brown's gaze lingered on her for a moment before she said, "That book you found in the Herbology storage... did you read it?"

Ophelia froze, her fingers tightening around the cigarette. "That was you?" She asked, her voice low. "You left it there?"

Brown didn't deny it. Instead, she stepped closer, her expression serious. "I needed you to find it. I needed you to understand what you're dealing with."

Ophelia exhaled a stream of smoke, watching it dissipate into the dark sky before flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath her heel. With a swift motion, she kicked the remnants over the edge, sending them spiraling into the night.

"And what exactly am I dealing with?" She asked, her voice low but steady, though her heart raced with unease.

Professor Brown clasped her hands behind her back, her tone calm but heavy with purpose. "Before I answer that, Miss Delisle, I need to ask you a very important question."

Ophelia frowned, turning to face her. "What question?"

"If you could choose only one person to survive this looming war," Brown said, her voice cold and deliberate, "who would you save?"

The question hit Ophelia like a slap, her brows knitting together in confusion. "What are you talking about—"

"Just answer," Brown interrupted, her tone sharp and unyielding.

Ophelia blinked, her mind reeling. The immediate answer rose in her throat before she could stop it. "My sister."

Brown's piercing gaze bore into her. "Why her, out of everyone?"

Ophelia hesitated, but only for a moment. "Who else if not her?"

Brown nodded slowly, as if she had expected the answer. "And you believe you can protect her? Even if it means sacrificing everything else, even yourself?"

Ophelia's jaw tightened, her fists clenching at her sides. "She's my sister. I'll do whatever I have to."

Brown's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze softening ever so slightly. "Good," she said quietly. "Because if you don't fight for her, I'm not so sure anyone else will."

Ophelia's stomach churned as the weight of the conversation settled over her. "What are you trying to tell me, Professor?"

Brown hesitated, then said quietly, "your father is a squib."

Ophelia blinked, then let out a hollow laugh. "No. I've seen him perform magic."

Brown shook her head. "He was feeding off your brother's magic," she explained, her tone steady. "And when he died, your father became weak, vulnerable. When Ana turned eleven and became eligible for wizarding school, he formed the same connection to her, using her magic as his own."