HAHAHAHA SOCIAL LIFE WHAT'S A SOCIAL LIFE?
Oh btw, somebody pointed out that the ship would have taken months to arrive at Britain, so I went and edited that shit to prove them wro- correct myself *ahem*.
So, you can go back and read that, or just read this brief explanation. So, basically, you guys know how Ivy's magic is very responsive to his thoughts and wants, right? Like, to the point where he can apparate with only a thought, even if he never has done it before. He's kind of a Mary-Sue, huh?
So, basically, he knocked out the captain and took control of the ship, and urged the ship to move at the same speed of the Knight Bus using his magic. He got in a very good amount of miles before magical exhaustion kicked in, giving in to the fact that a cargo ship is huge. He repeated this process every night and arrived in Britain within a week. Simple enough, right? I like that explanation. Should've thought of that earlier, but I was running on three hours of sleep. Pity meh.
Oh, before I forget, let me say that Ivy already made lots of money, so he can afford all of the school supplies. And he probably stole half his father's money, so let's say he's good.
LINE BREAK BEE-OT-CHES
Possibly my best accomplishment to date is hugging Sirius Black. I can feel the envy of the Sirius fangirls. Dude, I, myself, was one in my last life, and at this point I envy myself. I mean, I obviously did something right in my last life. Was it my very limited social interaction with other human beings? Maybe, but I guess I'll never know. Being in the Harry Potter universe and all.
Anyways, I brought Sirius into an enormous (for me) bear hug. After a shocked pause, I felt Sirius's arms encircle me, and return the affection. I remained there for a little longer, before pulling myself away reluctantly, dropping onto the ground lightly. I looked up at Sirius's face, his jaw slack with surprise and eyes alight with...joy? Huh, that's odd. I grinned at his disbelief, and said, "Nice to see you, dude. What're you doing here anyways?"
Sirius blinked, but before he could open his mouth (probably to return the question, but in a much more dramatic matter), James, who must be feeling quite confused, cut in, "Er, excuse me, but who the bloody hell are you?" He looked sufficiently shocked, and his hazel eyes were huge behind his round glasses.
I waved off his question, "I'll answer you when we get downstairs, I actually have a job to do." Then I turned on my heel and walked off. After a brief pause, I heard the two boys start to follow, their longer legs easily catching up with mine. Thoroughly irritated at this, I opted not to take the stairs, instead sliding smoothly down the wooden banister. I heard Sirius choke and rush after me, James just chuckling and following Sirius at a more leisurely pace.
Forty seconds and an attempted lecture from Sirius later, and I was moving around the kitchen, with the two future Gryffindors seated stiffly onto two stools that I snatched from the bar. Ignoring their inquiring stares, I thought about what to cook. Well, Tuesdays are never busy, so I could get away with a simple batch of pancakes and waffles, right? I'd set aside various options for toppings, of course, but today there was only about six people that I needed to feed, the rest of the overnighters didn't wake up until noon. I nodded to myself. Pancakes and waffles it is.
I collected the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar, dumping the correct amount into a bowl and sifting them together so that they mixed evenly. Then I made a well in the center and poured in milk, an egg, and some butter that I melted with a quick thought, my magic responding instantly. I mixed the batter well. When I was mixing the batter, I finally turned toward the two Marauders who were steadily getting more impatient. I most likely looked like a housewife, with my hip jutted out and the bowl resting on it as I mixed it so that there were no more clumps, and my eyebrow raised in an unmistakable 'what do you want' expression. Sirius seemed to have come to the same revelation, and coughed awkwardly before asking, "So...what are you doing here, Ivy? Not that I'm not happy to see you, but last time I saw you, you were in America."
I finished mixing the batter and placed the bowl on the countertop, then grabbed a griddle from a lower cabinet. I placed the griddle on top of the stove and oiled it before turning the fire on. I turned back to the batter just in time to slap James' hand away from the mixture. I sent a mock glare to him, then answered, "I took a cargo ship, which I'm pretty sure was illegal, but eh. Whatever works. And I came here because I saw no point staying in America. I mean," I continued, moving the batter to the stove, "there are literally no magical schools there. Plus, you're basically the first person to interact with me by choice. Oh, and to answer James' question, I'm Ivy Beau Rosewood, nice to meet you."
I poured the batter onto the griddle as soon as it was hot enough (A/N: You can tell it's hot enough when you flick water onto it and the water sizzles), taking out a spatula from a nearby drawer. I heard Sirius's intake of breath, and then James spoke, "Wait, how'd you know my name? And- you came here illegally? Sirius, what kind of friend do you have here? Where'd you find him, I want one!"
I froze, ignoring the rest of James' rambling and focusing on his first question. I absentmindedly flipped the first two pancakes when the little bubbles started popping, and panicked as I thought of how to answer that question, my face outwardly blank. Then I jolted, an idea coming to mind. I turned back to James. "Sirius mentioned you once. So I was right, wasn't I? Riveting," I deadpanned.
James snorted, seeming to accept my answer, and Sirius blinked, obviously surprised I remembered. I flipped the pancakes over, and hummed, satisfied with the golden-brown coloring it took. I took out a large plate and settled the equally large pancakes onto its white surface. There was a lapse in conversation as I continued to make breakfast. Then I glanced back, saw the twitching of James, and sighed. I flipped the pancakes before speaking in a distracted voice, "If you two want to help me, it'd be appreciated. Sirius, there's a waffle maker in the top cabinet. Plug it in- that's the plug, right there- and let it heat up. James, there's a coffee maker in the bottom cabinet- you'll know it when you see it- just put the water in the side container and some ground coffee- three scoops- in the little hatch up front- you'll have to grab a filter, too, those are the little white things- when that's done, just plug it in and press the green button."
As the two scrambled to do the tasks, I continued making the pancakes and thought about what my plans were right now. Obviously I planned to get my school things with Sirius and James, and go to Hogwarts, but what else? I was a Slytherin in my last life, so if I got into Slytherin now, would they hate me? Plus, how was I supposed to keep Peter away from the Marauders? And Remus, I need to do something about his 'furry little problem', I wish I could get him some Wolfsbane and some self-esteem, but I'm broke and apparently not the most social person. I heaved a sigh. So much to do...plus, I needed to make an appointment with a Healer, I really don't like glasses, hopefully they'll be gone by the time I'm in Fifth year at least. Also, I needed to get rid of the horcruxes, because hell if I was letting Harry have that shitstorm thrown on his shoulders, Dumbledore could go fuck himself. I had the ability to end the war, and I was going to do so. Oh, right, the war...
A tired smile made its way across my face at my thoughts, unbeknownst to me. James saw it, and frowned, thinking that, on top of Sirius and his family problem, he needed to befriend this- though he'd never say it out loud- tiny boy as well. Though maybe this one'd be easier, given that he didn't seem to have self-esteem issues. Ivy had ordered them around like a housewife, after all! Then he jolted, remembering his tasks, and hurriedly got back to work.
I put the last pancake onto the plate, then put it in the oven, setting it to 'warm'. Then I walked to where Sirius was, turned on the faucet, put my fingers under the water, then lifted the top of the waffle maker, flicking the water onto the surface and nodding when the water sizzled out of existence. I turned off the faucet, and grabbed the bowl of batter, still halfway full. I placed the bowl on the counter, grabbed a large spoon, then scooped out some of the batter, pouring the mixture onto the hot surface. Then I placed the top down, grabbing a rag and wiping the corners when some of the contents spilled out. I turned back to Sirius, who was looking at me curiously, and instructed, "Just keep on doing what I just did, and place the waffles onto this plate," I grabbed a large red platter, "when they're finished. You'll know they're done when the little red light- right here- turns into green. Keep it up, buddy." I clapped his back and shoved the platter into his hands, not bothering to ask him if he could do it. You see, where I come from, if you don't know how to swim by the time you're six, they just chuck you into the pond and wait for you to learn. If I can learn how to swim by a matter of life or death, Sirius can make waffles without burning down the kitchen. Probably.
I nodded to James, who was doing a pretty damn good job of making the coffee, and went to gather more ingredients. I took a can of cranberry sauce, a can of cherry pie filling, some blueberries, pancake syrup, and a dash of cinnamon (which is like, as much cinnamon as you can fit in the center of your palm when you cup it), then placed them onto a saucepan. Then I grabbed the saucepan and willed it to heat up, and it did so, just to the point that the ingredients mixed together, and my hands painfully heated up along with the saucepan. I silently cursed, then placed the saucepan onto the counter gently, taking a deep breath and trying not to let out any noises that would alert the other two people in the kitchen. I grabbed the paper towels and transfigured them into bandages, wrapping them around my hands with a smoothness that came from experience. I had, after all, been a student athletic trainer in my last life. I shoved the extra bandages into a nearby trash can, then grasped my wooden spoon, stirring the concoction quickly, poker face firmly in place. Then I put the saucepan on the counter, confident that the sauce would still be warm when the rest of the food was served. Then I glanced at the progress at the other two in the kitchen. Sirius was still working on the waffles, and had a pretty good system going. James had finished the coffee, the dark brown brew sitting calmly in the transparent pot. I nodded at James, satisfied, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Odd.
I took out the honey from the cabinet, wishing that I could just summon it. But alas, I wasn't alone, and I was willing to bet that my wandless magic would get me into Dumbledore's manipulations if anyone saw. Maybe I'd show them one day, but right now they were still too trusting of adults. So, I just took the honey out manually. That made three different toppings: the syrup, the honey, and my recently made fruit topping. I placed all three toppings on the counter next to the stove, and turned to James, who snapped to attention, his back straight and stiff. I nodded seriously at him, and said, "We're going to make orange juice. The hard way."
James mock gasped, looking horrified, and I nodded again, gravely. Then I opened the fridge, bent down to open the drawer, and took out a plastic bag full of oranges. The bag took up the whole drawer, and there must've been around fifty of them. This time James' horror was not fake. I raised a brow, then said, "No backing out. I'm remaining stubborn on this one, you're helping me." James still looked scared, but he gave a jerk of his head, a determined look on his face. I carried the bag of oranges to the table and dumped them onto the counter, making a light thump. A few seconds later, Sirius made a victorious noise, and James and I turned our heads just in time to see Sirius put the last waffle onto the red platter. I patted James' arm, telling him to stay there, and walked over to Sirius. I looked at the waffles. A few were a little crispy, probably due to Sirius's short attention span, but the last few ones were perfectly done. I grinned at Sirius, and congratulated him happily, making him puff out his chest in pride. Then I instructed him once again, telling him to put the platter in the oven. "Oh," I added, turning away from the waffle maker, "don't touch the edges, it'll burn you. It's 'muggle technology'." He nodded and went to do as told. I wet a dish rag and wiped off the waffle maker, pleasantly surprised to find out Sirius had enough sense to unplug it when he was finished. I dropped the rag into the sink, then hefted up the miracle maker, putting it back into the cabinet. Then I strolled back to where Sirius had joined James, and picked up one of the (fairly large) oranges.
"Alright, what we're gonna do here is just," I lifted my arm and smacked the orange against the counter, making the two boys jump, looking fairly alarmed. I snickered, then continued, "We'll smack the oranges onto the counter, just enough to soften them up-" I started doing the things as I told them, "-and when they're soft enough to easily squeeze, you'll take a knife-" I ignored their noises of alarm, taking a slim, sharp knife, and cutting the orange in half with two swift movements, "-and cut the oranges in half. After that's done, just take a citrus reamer, hold the orange over a bowl, and force the juice out-" I twisted the citrus reamer, and the juice, along with some pulp and seeds, poured into the bowl that I literally pulled out of nowhere, "-into the bowl. Do the same thing with the other side, and make sure to chuck the skin into the trash after you're done, so there's no mess. If you get some juice on the counter, just wipe it off, no biggie. After we finish, we'll get a strainer and take the pulp and seeds out. Got it?" I turned back to them expectantly. They nodded quickly, looking oddly impressed. I smiled, and clapped my hands, "Get to work, people!
"Yes, ma'am!" They chorused.
I clicked my tongue, "Touchè."
Twenty minutes and a near food fight later, there were two pitchers of smooth orange juice atop the counter. I, not trusting either of the two after they started hurling the skin of the oranges at each other, took both of them, one in each hand, easily carrying them over to the counter, right next to the bend that separated the toppings from the other counter. I placed them down with a faint click, and reached over to turn the oven off, opening the now dark oven door when I heard the little beep. I took out the satisfyingly warm and crispy pancakes and waffles, putting them down next to the orange juice. I grabbed some dish rags, throwing two of them at the two Marauders, them fumbling to catch them. After wiping off our hands, we threw them in the sink, and I walked over to the two. I said, "Alright, most of the over-nighters are up by now, and they're not allowed in the kitchen. Sirius, pour the fruit sauce into this bowl-" I handed the black-haired male a clear, plastic bowl, "-while James and I get started on the set up. James, get the waffles, I'll get the pancakes, let's go."
James and I paraded the breakfast foods out into the open bar. We started from the left, and I told him to leave a little space for the dishes, silverware, and napkins. A few minutes later and the now wide-awake customers were drooling at the sight of the breakfast buffet. I, being the clever bastard I am, had already fixed James and Sirius a full plate, with syrup on James' waffles and honey on his pancakes, and fruit topping on Sirius's pancakes and honey on his waffles, like they said they liked. I gave them each a glass of orange juice as well, placing all of the food on the main table in the kitchen. They pulled up their chairs in front of their respective plates, looking greedily at the food. I'll bet they'll like it even better because they made it themselves. Food always tastes better when you make it, after all. While they had absolutely loaded plates, I, by contrast, had a simple cup of coffee. Well, I say simple, in reality it had more cream and sugar than actual coffee. Really, it was a horrible decision to give me free reign of my life.
So, while the boys (it is so difficult to remember I'm not female) ate, I started washing the pile of dishes that was the result of our little cooking spree. It was a large pile, but it was usually a lot more on normal days. Saturdays were terrible, but the day that creeps usually stayed overnight was Sunday, which I found was unacceptable because Sunday was the day of the Lord, and all of those people eyeing me had better be prepared, because I had a five-gallon bucket full of Holy Water, and I wasn't afraid to use it.
I scrubbed in a steady pace, on occasion pausing to take a gulp of my nerve-inducing coffee. After a few minutes I felt the probing stares on my back and jerked instinctively. I whipped my head around, eyes wide behind my glasses, "What?"
Both frowned (actually, they looked more like pouts, they were eleven-years old after all), and James spoke up, looking suspicious, "Why aren't you eating...?"
"Oh," I said, coming to a realization, "I usually don't eat breakfast, my body's not used to it." Then I closed my jaw with a snap, hoping beyond hope that they wouldn't probe into it.
James didn't seem to read into it, but I saw Sirius's grey eyes widen in what looked like horrified realization. Before he could speak up, I turned back to the dishes, speaking and scrubbing at a furious pace, "Anyways, have you all gotten your school supplies yet?"
It had shocked me when a Hogwarts letter had arrived for me, with the words Mr. I. Rosewood, Room 405, The Leaky Cauldron, London. It had made me unexplainably grateful that I'd traveled here as an illegal immigrant, because I probably wouldn't have gotten the letter otherwise. So, now I knew that at least dear Minnie knows that I exist, so it's likely that Dumbledore knows, too. I probably didn't seem too significant, or so I hoped. But I now had plenty of reason to be in the Leaky Cauldron, and I didn't have to sneak into Hogwarts! It made things a hell of a lot easier for me. I had a much greater chance of being able to get close to the Marauders, even though I knew very well that I wouldn't be a Gryffindor. It wouldn't be much of a hassle to sneak into the dorms, but Peter would be in the same dorms as them. Unless, I found a way for the other Marauders to get so irritated with them that he got kicked out...
James' voice cut through my thoughts. "Nah, not yet, mate," he said breezily, "if you want to come with us, we were planning to get supplies today, y'know..."
I finished scrubbing the last dish, and promptly jumped at the opportunity, "Hell yeah, dude! Just let me get changed, and I'll be right down. Wash your dishes," I added, rushing past them and up the stairs. It didn't take me long to run up the stairs and to my room. I shut the door quietly behind me and rushed to my closet, starting to dig through it hurriedly. I yanked out some sporty-casual clothes. Purple converse, form-fitting grey jeans, a short-sleeved purple hoodie (the sleeves came halfway down my upper arm) with white strings, and some black sweatbands that didn't know I had. It was actually quite easy to just transfigure my sucky clothes into the style I preferred. I shall never where highwaters. I fluffed my dark blonde hair- a habit from my previous life- and pushed up my white-rimmed glasses. I nodded at my reflection, thanking the fact that I had been a tomboy in my last life. If I was girly, I don't think I would've taken the change in style very well.
I looked at the clock on the wall. It was just a little past 10 o'clock, which was a pretty good time. I made my way downstairs, sliding dangerously down the banister once again, and landed lightly on my feet, practically springing into the kitchen. James and Sirius, who were at the sink, jumped, and Sirius yelped, both looking startled. I smirked, and said, "Ready to go?"
"Hold on," Sirius said, then placed his dish on the towel beside the sink. Then he turned to me, "Shouldn't we dry the dishes?"
I felt a small part of me purr when he said 'we', but shook my head, "Tom'll handle it. Won't you Tom?" I asked, directing my question to the doorway. To the other two's shock, Tom (the barkeeper, not the bloody Dark Lord) stepped into the room. He looked quite happy for somebody who had just been caught.
"Yea'," he said, voice slurred as usual, "I's abou' time ya' go an' relax, son. Ya've been workin' non-stop tha 'ole time ya've been 'ere. Go, 'ave fun." He ruffled my hair, and I frowned (read: pouted) up at him. He chuckled (what was funny?) and ushered us out. I felt a little put out as he basically threw us to the back and opened Diagon Alley for us. He then disappeared back into the shop, not waiting for us. I raised an eyebrow, then shrugged it off, turning to Diagon Alley. I grinned in admiration.
The Harry Potter-verse seemed to follow the books, mostly, and the movies a little but as well. Diagon Alley looked nearly exactly like the movies, beside a lack of some of the newer shops, and more old shops, and even some shops that must've been destroyed in the war. This was every Potterhead's dream. I looked over to James and Sirius, and they seemed just as awe-struck. Then I heard the tapping of bricks and yanked them out of the way, where we stood near an apothecary. They smiled at me sheepishly.
I sighed, feeling resigned. "Welp," I said, "where do you wanna go first?"
James opened his mouth, but I interrupted him, "No, we're not getting Quidditch supplies, I'm surprised they even let first years have broomsticks."
James sighed, disappointed, but nodded anyways. Sirius suggested, "Let's get the boring things done first, mate. Save the wands for last."
"Well done, Sirius, you had a good idea, " I praised, ignoring Sirius's offended look. I started wandering off, taking the supplies list from my pocket. They scrambled to follow me, "How about Madam Malkin's first, then books? I'll get you guys any books you're interested in that are not on the list. They have lots of-ahem- mischievous books, if you catch my drift." I raised an eyebrow suggestively, smirking. I didn't give them time to answer, rushing to where I knew Madam Malkin's place was. They were so busy trying to keep up with me that they weren't prepared when I shoved them through the door.
James stumbled, and Sirius fell flat on his face as I stepped over him to greet the startled assistant, who had long, pale blonde hair and ice-blue eyes, with a tall, willowy figure. He looked to be around fifteen, and wore a simple black turtleneck, grey slacks, and black, shiny shoes. He shook my outstretched hand, already schooling his features into an indifferent, though not snobby, expression. He walked over to Sirius and heaved him onto his feet easily, then turned to me, "First years, I suppose?" I nodded, and he closed his eyes. "Say no more, firsties."
He started with James first, taking his measurements and pinning him into place, holding many sharp pins in his mouth and wielding the measuring tape expertly. An even taller and equally willowy lady walked out into the main room, holding a bunch of robes in her thin arms. She had strawberry blonde hair put up into an intricate bun, and slanted, turquoise eyes, with a beauty mark under her left eye. She donned mint green robes. The younger Madam Malkin handed the silky green robes to the short brunette, who had a look of superiority on her face, that had followed her out. The girl was ushered out of the shop after she handed over ten galleons, and Madam Malkin glided over to us. She smiled at Sirius, making her eyes crease and face light up, and asked him, "Do you know your measurements, Mr...?"
Sirius snapped out of his daze, and spluttered, "B-Black. Sirius Black." She showed no outward reaction towards his last name, so he continued, "And no, miss, I don't. Will you have to...?" He gestured numbly towards James, who looked terrified and was unmoving. I sighed, and shoved Sirius onto the other pedestal, sending a wink to Madam Malkin. She smiled, amused this time, and reached into a pocket of her robe and pulled out some sharp pins. Sirius gulped.
Thirty minutes and two traumatized children later, and I was the one with sharp needles poking me. In my last life, my mom had been an artistic person, and sewing was one of her many talents. She was why I knew how to cook, clean, be a good host, make alcoholic drinks (she liked Mint Juleps and whiskey 'n stuff), and deal with children. So, the feeling of pins resting dangerously against my body was a familiar, though not comfortable feeling. The boy, whose name was Alicio (French for 'graceful' or 'noble') spoke in accented English, "You are quite tiny, monsieur," he said, looking me over and taking out the pins, "an extra small, I believe. Do you eat?"
I gave him a side glance, "I take offense to that. En tant que chef, je mange bien."
He looked impressed, but never ceased in his movements, "Tu parle français?"
I nodded, "D'où je viens, c'est obligatoire. Are you finished?"
"Yes," he answered, and disappeared into the back room. I stretched my limbs, stepping off of the pedestal to stand by Sirius, who was watching James chat with Madam Malkin cautiously. I hooked my elbow around his own, letting myself fall limp so that I hung off him dramatically. He stumbled slightly before he managed to right himself, and he looked down at me questioningly. I shrugged, "I was bored."
He shook his head, and I righted myself just as Alicio came back with his arms holding three sets of rather small robes. I sighed disappointedly when he plopped them into my arms, feeling how tiny they were. Everything hurts.
A few minutes later, all three of us walked out with our robes, hat (that we swore to never wear), a winter cloak, and the uniform to go under the robes, which included a grey sleeveless sweater vest, a white button-down, a black tie (that would change colors when we were sorted), grey slacks, and shoes of choice. The universe followed the movies on that part (of that I was thankful).
Next we got our books (where I got James a book on magical creatures (apparently he likes learning about that) and Sirius a book about harmless, but funny, hexes and jinxes to use on friends (or Slytherins).), then a cauldron, crystal phials, a telescope, and a set of brass scales. We managed to get all of this without much incident (because I got us out of there when I saw Snape. I didn't know if they'd met yet, but I understood that James had hated him on sight or something like that).
Next were the pets.
James already had an owl, but I was determined to get one of my own. Sirius was not allowed any pets, so the only reason we were going was me. So, I'd told them to go and get ice cream, and that I would find them later. They's agreed (though hesitant) and promised to get me a huge sundae. I didn't even protest. I was hungry.
So, here I was, being stared at by what felt like hundreds of animals. Snakes never liked me (mutual), and while cats loved me (I am unsure as to why), I felt like a cat may be troublesome. Plus I wanted an owl.
I nearly cried (or started laughing) when I saw a burrowing owl. They were awkward-looking things who preferred to stay in holes in the ground rather than trees, and I wondered why they kept them here. The owl had long, lanky legs that kept them upright like an egret, and had brown and white flecked feathers, with a circular head and large, yellow eyes. The owl's eyes snapped toward me, and we made eye contact. For once, I was the one looking down (because the owl was standing right in front of me). A few seconds of intense staring later, and the owl flew- actually flew, and it wasn't nighttime or time for hunting!- onto my shoulder, where it stood there, carefully, as if not to pierce the skin. I stared at it for a second, before frowning exaggeratedly in an impressed manner and picking up a cage and other supplies for the owl. I walked to the counter, still feeling amused, right before the violet-haired witch who stared at us in shock. Then she shrugged and wrapped up the supplies, sliding them over the counter in a black plastic bag, "Y'know, that owl usually ignores everybody, so it's surprising that he likes you. Eleven Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut."
Oho, I am such a Mary-Sue. I handed over the money and hung the bag over my arm, choosing to leave the owl out on my shoulder. I walked out into the sunlight, surprised that the dreary day had brightened so quickly. The owl seemed to agree, stretching its wings and shaking its head, shifting its clawed feet without hurting me. It was a rather careful owl, I think.
The owl hissed and clicked its beak at anybody who looked at me for too long. He reminded me of an overprotective brother of some sort.
I caught up with James and Sirius, the owl's hissing alerting Sirius of our presence. He whipped around, James copying his movements, and jerked at the sight of the owl that had flared his wings threateningly. I snorted and smoothed down his feathers, and he calmed down, still giving the two the evil eye. I grinned at their shock, "Who'd've thought they'd have a burrowing owl?"
James gaped, "Is-is that what that is? I've never seen an owl with legs that long, mate!"
"Eh," I shrugged, then plopped down at their little table out front. I noticed it was the same table Harry, Ron, and Hermione would sit at, before taking notice of the huge sundae in front of me, "I won't be able to finish this."
Sirius glared at me, "You can, and you will. Eat it, chef."
I groaned.
Nearly twenty minutes later, Sirius learned not to underestimate me, or turn his back for too long. Both James and the owl seemed to cry with laughter, looking at Sirius's shocked face and his hat of ice cream. I snickered as he shrieked with horror, crying about his hair and how it would take forever to get it out. While the other three occupants of the table made a ruckus that drew the attention of strangers, I waved over Mr. Fortescue, who complied without hesitation, and he looked very amused at Sirius's despair. I spoke over the noise, "Mr. Fortescue, could you please assist my friend? It seems he cannot help himself."
The jolly man smiled, taking out a short wand and giving it a swift flick. The ice cream instantly disappeared, and Sirius's hair was glistening once again. I thanked him, and he walked off, still giggling. I turned to James, "Let's go get our wands, shall we?" James agreed and dragged Sirius up, gathering up both his own and my bags, and placing Sirius's bags on the raven's arms.
I was the first one in the store. I knew when Ollivander was about to appear, because my owl clicked his beak threateningly seconds before the pale-eyed man appeared. I heard Sirius and James jump in shock behind me, but he kept eye contact with me. His pale eyes seemed to be searching for something in mine, and I felt a trickle of apprehension run through me. He seemed to know something he should not, and I briefly wondered if he knew who I was, or what I could do. I shook the thought off. He couldn't.
I spoke, "Are you Mr. Ollivander?"
He grinned mystically, "Yes, I am. First years?"
James spoke up from beside me, and clamped a hand on my other shoulder protectively, "Yessir. We're here for our wands. Here, Sirius, go first." He pushed Sirius towards Ollivander, and the old wizard focused on the Black heir instead.
James pushed me towards the chairs, and shoved me down into one, plopping down into the other. Funnily enough, my owl seemed to approve of James' actions. Odd.
A few explosions later, and Sirius had a 14 ½ inch long, Dogwood (ha) wand with a dragon heartstring core. Soon enough, James held an 11 inch long wand, made of mahogany with a unicorn hair core. I was next.
Mine was rather odd. Dragon heartstring core caused explosions, so no go. The only wood that seemed compatible with me was Fir wood. I knew my wand was supposed to be Fir wood, unicorn hair core, 13 ¾ inches long with unbending flexibility. But when I tried that, the wand shot out of my grasp, like no, bitch, that's too simple.
Ollivander hummed curiously, then came out of the back with a wand that looked almost exactly like the previous one, except the design was made of black, flaming vines swirling around the wand, fading into the color of Fir wood near the top of the wand. I admired it closely and picked it up. Exactly like the book said, I felt a warm sensation near my navel, where I guessed my magical energy was mostly gathered, and I flicked the wand simply. The wand purred, and a swirl of glittering dark purple light twisted out of the wand, spreading to the corners of the room and fading out of existence. James whistled and Sirius clapped graciously, my owl hopping excitedly from his place on James' lap. I grinned.
Ollivander said, "13 ¾ inches, Fir wood, and a dual core of phoenix feather and unicorn hair. Impressive, Mr. Rosewood, you will accomplish great things with that wand."
I silently agreed. My magic, while powerful before, felt more...complete, I supposed. I hadn't realized how empty I had felt before now. Well, I was still dead inside, but still.
I thanked Mr. Ollivander, allowed my owl to hop onto my shoulder, and rushed out of the shop. I sighed in relief when we were outside. I felt a hand on my shoulder again, and turned my head to see Sirius's concerned face. I raised a brow.
"Ivy, are you alright? He was creepy," he said, and I sighed, wondering who, exactly, was supposed to be the child here.
I answered, "I'm fine. Siriusly."
James tripped, and Sirius barked a laugh, "Yeah, he's fine. Back to the Leaky Cauldron, I say. You can meet Mr. And Mrs. Potter, eh?"
James jerked upright, "Oh, yeah! C'mon, Ivy, they'll love you! Let's go, mate!" He grabbed my hand and dragged me, Sirius laughing beside us. I saw my owl hiss at them, and decided on a name for him at that moment.
Aegeus.
LINE BREAK
Aegeus means 'protector'.
En tant que chef, je mange bien.- As a chef, I eat well.
Tu parle français?- You speak French?
D'où je viens, c'est obligatoire.- Where I come from, it's obligatory (required).
A bit boring, but next up is meeting the Potter's, and the Hogwart's express! Maybe even our favorite werewolf (if your favorite 'werewolf' is Jacob Black, get the fuck outta here and read the books)!
What House do you think Ivy'll be in?
