𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟗 - 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝙍𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 and sat on the window ledge in the Gryffindor common room was Ophelia Le Fay, gazing into the night.

Looking up at the clouds hovering up in the sky, she wondered what could possess a person to be as despicable as Sirius Black.

How could he go from someone's best-friend to the reason that they were dead?

His name often fogged over stories about her parents and their youth, given they were all in the same circle, she imagined the betrayal had struck a chord with her father. He practically refused to talk about Sirius Black and her mother in the same sentence, as though the thought made him physically ill.

Ophelia didn't blame him, in fact, she sided on Harry when it came to the whole preparing to avenge dead relatives plot.

Speaking of Harry, he had been doing quite well in his private lessons with her father as she had been told. Though she couldn't bring herself to quite swallow the painful truth that her father hadn't told her the whole circumstances that surrounded her mother's murder, she knew he was doing it to protect her from the harsh reality of the world and maybe he had a point in doing so, because the concept of it had been messing with her mind.

It led her to ask a dangerous question.

If that situation was to arise today,
Who would be the one to betray her?
Would her friends betray her?
Would she betray them?

The very idea of it had led Ophelia to lose lost hours of rest, she wondered what had possessed Sirius to betray his closest friends, his family even. Distracting herself she scratched behind Binx's ears, who appreciated the gesture whole-heartedly as she leaned into Ophelia's touch.

Suddenly her thoughts went to Hagrid, and poor Buckbeak who was going to be executed.

Could this year get any worse? 

Malfoy got what he wanted, and Hagrid has to lose one of his closest friends in the world for it, the world was truly despicable. Beating down the best and kindest of us to replenish the egos of disturbed individuals.

Ophelia pulled her knees into her chest, despite her being alone in the common room she didn't quite feel safe to express the emotions that haunted her. Resting her cheek on the top of her knee she let out a rather silent sob, some tears managing to spill onto the cloth on her grey pyjama joggers.

"Ophelia?"

She visibly jumps on the spot she was sat on, feeling her heart-race she turns her head to see who had disturbed her, finding Harry in his pyjamas, his hair still in its constant state of messiness.

Harry notices the wetness on her cheeks, frowning slightly he approaches her, holding his hand out for her to take, she does so lightly and he gently pulls her down from the window ledge, the moment her trainers hit the ground in front of him he pulled her into a hug.

"You alright?" he mumbles into her head, concern lacing his voice.

He's overwhelmed by the smell that hit his nose, it was almost like she'd been wandering around outside before he found her; she smelt of a sleek woody musk, like freshly fallen leaves in a forest but there was this softness, this creaminess, like soft spicy vanilla, almost like hot chocolate but not quite --- then there was this, other smell that was distinctly her, her skin or her hair, something.

Maybe it's her shampoo?

She shakes her head, which prompts the smell to surround him, he tries not to get too hung up on how incredible she smells given she's upset but he made a mental note of it, he hears her mumble something back into his chest.