Little Weasley

-3.5-

'i don't like anticipating my face in a red flush'- gold rush

As the Christmas break came to a close, students filtered back into the halls of Hogwarts, and the quiet Ophelia had grown used to began to fade. The final Hogsmeade trip of the season soon approached, and Patrick had invited her to join him.

Ophelia hadn't seen the Hufflepuff boy since the events unfolded at the ball and felt the redness in her cheeks grow as he hugged her with an awkward hello. She soon relaxed, however, as they fell in step with each other, chatting away as though nothing had changed, although she couldn't ignore the flutter growing in her chest whenever their eyes met.

She couldn't stop thinking about the ball. How he'd held her as they dance. How he'd pulled her in closer than they'd ever been before. She couldn't help but curse her brothers and that punch.

'Ophelia?' Patrick was staring down at her, holding in a laugh. She frowned before realising they'd made it to Honeydukes. 

'Sorry, what was that?' Ophelia could feel her face redden again, how had she gotten so distracted?

'Treacle fudge,' Patrick was pointing to a jar sitting upon one of the higher shelves of the shop, 'they're your favourite, right?'

Ophelia nodded. Before she could say anything, Patrick turned to Mr Flume, the owner, who poured some fudges into a pink and white striped bag, smiling as he handed it over.

'Oh, you don't have to-' She began to protest, digging around her pockets for some coins.

'No, they're on me,' he grinned, 'to make up for the other night.'

Ophelia couldn't help but smile back- it wasn't his fault they were interrupted, if anything, she should be the one buying him fudge. Then again, she knew he was more into Peppermint Imps.

The pair wandered around the square a little longer, before Patrick led them to the Hogsmeade community garden.

'It looks nicer in the spring,' Patrick brushed some snow from a nearby bench, 'I promise. They grow all kinds of things around here.'

It was a fairly barren area, some twigs poking out from beneath the blanket of snow, with a few birds perching upon them, singing sweetly as the two students watched on.

'I believe you,' Ophelia teased, tucking into her fudge before offering some to Patrick.

They sat silently for a while, taking in the cold surroundings. The garden was fairly secluded, a short walk away from the shops, enclosed within a mixture of hedges and gates, and it didn't seem the usual hotspot for students. Ophelia wondered how Patrick would've come across it, although having Professor Sprout as a head of house would lead anyone to seek out a place like this.

She glanced at the boy briefly, only to find he was already gazing at her. She felt herself blush as she looked away again, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. When she looked back, she saw his eyes move to the scar on her cheek. She hurried cover it again, but Patrick stopped her hand gently, pushing her hair out of the way before tracing the mark with his fingers. 

Ophelia remained still, her heart skipping slightly as his eyes met hers once again.

'You don't have to tell me what happened,' his voice was softer than usual, his hand remaining against her cheek, 'but what did you mean when you said this was your dad?'

Her heart dropped. She'd forgotten she'd mentioned it at the ball. That stupid punch, she thought as she shuffled slightly in her seat. 

But when she looked into the boy's eyes, a warming sense of ease washed over her. She could trust him.