autumn | severus snape

fifty six

The moment Ophelia turned the corner to the hospital wing, Draco was already waiting. His arms were crossed over his chest, his sharp eyes flicking over her as if assessing the damage before she could even speak.

Behind him stood Severus. He was watching her in that unreadable way of his, his arms hidden beneath his robes, his dark gaze flicking over her.

"Merlin, you look like hell," Draco muttered, but there was no teasing in his tone, just concern.

Ophelia barely heard him. Her heart was still hammering from what she had just learned. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, and it took everything in her not to shake.

Draco took a step closer, his brows furrowing. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she bit out.

Draco scoffed. "Right. And I suppose you always walk around looking like you're about to murder someone?"

A sound of amusement, so slight it was nearly imperceptible, escaped Severus, but he didn't speak. He just watched her. Waiting.

"You saw the Minister, didn't you? What did they say?" Draco pressed.

Ophelia didn't answer.

"Ophelia," Draco said, softer this time.

She turned to him then, her eyes burning. "Did you know?"

Draco's brow furrowed. "Know what?"

"That they let Teddy die on purpose."

Silence.

Severus shifted slightly, the only indication that he'd reacted. Draco, on the other hand, looked like she had just punched him.

"What?" he said, his voice flat, disbelieving.

"They sacrificed him to protect me," she spat, barely able to get the words out. "They let my father get to him because they thought it would make me more useful to the war effort."

Draco swore under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. "Those bloody bastards-"

Severus finally spoke, his voice low, even. "And you have proof?"

Ophelia turned to him, her rage simmering just beneath the surface. "They told me."

Severus held her gaze, his expression unreadable. "Then you already know your anger will accomplish nothing."

"Oh, so I should just let it go?" she snapped, turning on him now. "Just pretend like it doesn't matter?"

Severus took a slow step forward. "No," he said simply. "But you are wasting time dwelling on it when you already know what must be done."

Ophelia took a deep breath, forcing down the whirlwind of emotions clawing at her insides. She met Severus's gaze and nodded, her voice steady despite everything.

"You're right. We have work to do."

Draco exhaled, relieved that she wasn't about to throw herself into another reckless confrontation, at least not yet. "So what's the plan?"

Ophelia turned on her heel, pushing open the doors to the hospital wing, where her sister lay pale and unmoving in one of the beds. The room was dim, the only light coming from the torches on the walls and the soft glow of magical instruments floating above Ana's body, monitoring her weakening condition.

Madam Pomfrey, who had been adjusting the blankets around Ana, looked up with a start. "Miss Delisle, you shouldn't be here so late."

"I should," Ophelia countered. "We're ready."