Chapter 8
AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊. Sorry for the long wait, I've been buried in coursework.
Ivy was stood looking contemplatively out of the window of the comfortable room she was in. A knock at the door alerted her to a presence. "Enter."
Lucius Malfoy entered the room and bowed. "My Lord."
"Report," she commanded in a high male voice.
"My Lord, I have done as you commanded. I managed to place Broderick Bode under the Imperius Curse and commanded him to retrieve what You desire. He put up an unusual amount of resistance, but he will carry out his assigned task. It should be Yours in a matter of days," the blonde aristocrat reported.
Ivy felt a thin cruel smile spread across her lips. Hopefully Avery's suggestion would work better than their previous attempt. "Good. Anything else?"
"Only that Greyback has sent word that the packs have rallied to Your banner and will fight at Your command. There has not yet been any word from Your envoy to the giants, but given the distance involved that was to be expected."
"Then leave me." Malfoy bowed again and left. She turned back to her contemplation of the darkened countryside, her pale snake-like face and red eyes reflected in the darkened glass. So far, everything was going according to plan. Soon she would have the means to deal with Ivy Potter once and for all, and then she would be unstoppable.
Ivy jolted awake with a start, her scar burning. She pressed her hand to the scar to try and ease the pain as she forced her breathing back to a more normal rate. What the hell had just happened? She knew it was a nightmare, but it was much different from the normal ones. She had seen everything from Voldemort's perspective – the reflection in the glass had told her as much. She had spoken his words, felt his pleasure at the news Malfoy senior had brought. It was like she had been him. This… this was serious. If she really had been Voldemort… She needed help. Magical help. Swinging her legs out of bed, she glanced at the clock. The glowing face informed her it was 00:30. She'd only had two hours of sleep. Nowhere near enough, especially not with the busy week she'd had, but she didn't dare go back to sleep and risk another nightmare-vision.
Ivy's first week as Cloud Officer had been hectic. Cleaning out Ottabio's rooms had revealed further evidence of his treachery, which Squalo and Mammon were sorting through. One of the unknown account numbers on the bank statements she had found on the first day had been linked back to Don Vongola's Cloud Guardian; those Officers present for the Cradle Affair had been absolutely furious about that discovery. Then there had been the introduction to the Lightning and Storm Officers, who had both been out on missions the day Ivy killed Ottabio. Prince Belphegor had been both pouty and pleased upon discovering Ottabio's death and treachery; pouty because Ottabio had been murdered while he was out of the building, thus denying him the opportunity to witness the deed, and pleased because he hated the former Cloud Officer and Ivy had demonstrated appropriate manners when being introduced to him. Despite his psychopathic tendencies and stuck-up attitude, Ivy felt that she would be able to work with the genius Storm Officer. Officer Leviathan, on the other hand, was a different story. She had only met the man once and that had been enough for her to decide she didn't like him. There was something about the Lightning Officer that didn't sit right with her. Ivy resolved to follow the example of her fellow Officers and have as little to do with Levi outside of a professional setting as possible.
Then there was the paperwork, dealing with attempts on her life, memorising the Names and specialities of her Division members, being dragged on a shopping trip when Luss found out that all of her clothes except her uniform were hand-me-downs, appointing a new GM after the old one tried to kill her… It had been a long week and the nightmares were not helping. This new development meant she couldn't put off dealing with them any longer. She needed to speak with Mammon. It was unlikely the tiny miser was awake at this hour, but that gave her time to prepare the strawberry shortcake that had already bought her lessons in wandlessly checking her post for spells and an agreement to accompany her to Gringotts Syracuse this coming weekend to help her gain access to her vaults.
Ivy started getting dressed. She needed something to do for a few hours. The library should be quiet enough at this time of night that she could read and regain her equilibrium in peace.
Mammon had been at their desk for less than an hour when Amsel entered their office.
"Time is money, do not waste mine," they said as the youngest Officer shut the door behind her.
"I need your help." That was a rare admission for anyone with Cloud Flames to make, especially in the Varia. Mammon gave Amsel their full attention. "I keep having strange and disturbing dreams and experiencing flashes of emotion that are not my own. Each time these things happen my scar starts to burn. Last night I had some sort of vision, seen through Voldemort's eyes," Amsel explained, indicating the famous lightning bolt scar on her forehead.
Mammon's eyes narrowed under their hood. The scar she received the night she survived Voldemort's attack burned when she had these visions. The same scar that felt odd to their magic when they first met a few months ago. They floated up off the desk, hovering so their eyes were level with the scar. Up close it looked more like a sowilo rune than a lightning bolt. For the first time in decades they actively called on their magic, enhancing their magical sensitivity and directing it towards the famous scar.
Black magic of the foulest kind radiated from the scar. It took everything Mammon had not to flinch away from the disgusting thing. How long had that been there?
"When was the last time your scar was examined by a Healer?" Mammon demanded. Someone else had to have noticed this before. Amsel's own magic was doing its best to fight and supress the foreign magic, which was why Mammon hadn't noticed it properly before, but surely someone else had noticed the tainted area and investigated.
"I don't think it ever has been," Amsel replied after a pause. "I've been in the school infirmary multiple times but, as far as I know, no one never checked my scar."
What?! That was Stupidity of the highest order! "You mean to say no one has ever thought to check the large concentration of black magic lodged in your scar?" Amsel rapidly paled as she shook her head. "We're going to Syracuse. Now." Mammon landed on Amsel's shoulder and the two disappeared in a flare of Mist.
Upon arriving in a random alleyway in Syracuse, Mammon cloaked themselves in an illusion and strode off purposefully. Ivy hurried to keep up, her mind reeling from what Mammon had just told her. There was black magic in her scar! Was it connected to the dreams she kept having, or her ability to feel Voldemort's spikes of emotion? Ivy didn't know, but there was one thing she was sure of; this thing was coming out of her head today.
Ivy followed close behind as Mammon ducked down a dead-end alley with a bricked-up arch at the end of it. They reached out and tapped the side of the arch in a rhythmic pattern, causing the bricks to melt away and revealing the entrance to Piazza degli Stregoni, Sicily's magical district.
"We will stop at Gringotts first. You'll need access to your gold in order to pay for treatment," Mammon informed her as they made their way into the plaza. Ivy nodded, trying to take in the sights as she hurried along beside the illusioned miser. She would have to come back here when the situation wasn't so urgent.
Gringotts was quite quiet so early in the morning, so they didn't have to wait long before they reached a teller. "Good morning. Miss Ivy Potter would like to access her vault." Ivy said politely.
"Do you have your key?" the goblin asked in a tone much politer than Ivy had heard from a goblin before.
Ivy shook her head. Her Gringotts key was still in her satchel, which was protected by Flame security and trapped to high heaven, back at the Varia. "I'm afraid not. We left in such a hurry I didn't have time to grab it."
"We need to verify your identity before we allow you access to your vault. Follow me." The teller led them to one of the offices, where they were left with another goblin.
"Fill the bowl to the line with blood," the goblin at the desk said in a no-nonsense tone, placing a wooden bowl, a knife, and a red quill on the desk. Ivy took the knife and cut herself near the basilisk bite scar; the venom had damaged the sensory nerves in that area, so cutting there didn't hurt. Once the bowl held the required amount of blood, she subtly called on her Flames to staunch the bleeding and speed up her healing. The goblin placed the quill in the bowl for a minute and then placed it on the parchment laid out on the desk. The quill stood still for a moment before it began writing. Once finished, the quill fell on the desk. The goblin threw bowl and quill in the fire and used a spell to clean the knife before picking up the parchment.
"Your identity is confirmed, Heir Potter. You may access your trust vault and your mother's personal freely but cannot access the Potter family vault until you have passed the Wizarding International Competency Tests, or WICTs, and can claim the Lordship ring," the goblin informed her as they scanned the parchment.
"Lordship rings are normally claimed after Proficiency Tests," Mammon pointed out in a questioning tone.
The goblin nodded. "Normally that is the case, but Heir Potter is currently the sole member of House Potter, so the rules are relaxed a bit. You can claim the Heir ring for House Potter now if you wish."
Ivy thought for a few moments. "I don't think I'll pick up the Heir ring, not today at least. I'd rather not have anything official that can be used to trace me here. I would like to request that access to all of my vaults be limited to myself and my future children; no one else may make withdrawals or other transactions from my accounts. I would also like any payments from any of my vaults set up after Halloween 1981 to be cancelled, including those to Hogwarts. I will be continuing my education in Sicily. Any other payments set up after that cut-off date need to be reclaimed, as I certainly haven't authorised anything." Her vault key had been with Dumbledore for the better part of ten years. Ivy didn't think he would stoop to stealing from her, but she wasn't taking any chances. Time and distance had allowed her to look at the Headmaster's actions towards her in a clearer light. The goblin nodded again and made a note.
"Who is her registered magical guardian?" Mammon asked. Ivy looked at them curiously.
"Magical guardian?"
"The person in the magical world responsible for the welfare of the mundane-born and -raised, especially orphans. They are supposed to help them integrate into magical society. Yours is Albus Dumbledore," the goblin said.
That was potentially a very big problem. Dumbledore being her guardian meant he would likely be informed when she got treatment for her scar, which would allow him to find her. "Is there any way I can change my magical guardian? Preferably without notifying them before hand?"
"If you can prove dereliction of duty, yes. Otherwise you will have to wait until you can claim Ladyship of House Potter," the goblin informed her
"I would say leaving my scar full of black magic counts. But who to change it too?" Ivy mumbled as she considered her options. Sirius an option, since he was out of Britain – she had taken to carrying the communication mirror he had sent her in her jacket pocket, so it wouldn't be hard to get hold of him – but the fact he was a wanted criminal counted against him. Remus was out too, since he was still in Britain and there was the lycanthropy issue. The only other magical she could think of was Mammon…
"Black magic? In your scar?" the goblin asked sternly. Ivy nodded.
"The scar is radiating so much black magic even a squib could sense it, and Dumbledore has not seen fit to deal with it. We will be dealing with it once we are finished here," Mammon said.
"That is certainly grounds for removal of guardianship," the goblin agreed.
Ivy turned to Mammon. "How much would it cost for me to hire you as my magical guardian until I pass my WICTs?"
The two immediately set to haggling. Mammon eventually agreed to a lower fee when Ivy pointed out they could melt the coins down and sell the pure metals in the mundane world rather than deal with the exchange rates, which would allow them to make a lot more money when the market was good. The goblin quickly filled in the necessary paperwork, had the two humans sign, and sent it off to be filed. A glowing copy appeared on the desk a few minutes later, signalling that the change was now binding. With their business concluded, the goblin promptly kicked them out of the office.
Now to deal with the scar.
Sicily's Ospedale magico di San Pellegrino Laziosi was not far from the main plaza. Mammon went straight to the main desk, Amsel following behind at a more reluctant pace.
"How can I help you today?" the witch behind the desk asked politely.
"She has a concentration of black magic trapped in a scar on her forehead. It has likely been there for years and nobody seems to have noticed it before I did," Mammon said bluntly, indicating Amsel's scar. The receptionist paled at the mention of black magic.
"P-please go straight up to Curse and Spell Damage on the third floor. I will alert the Healers you're on your way," the receptionist said nervously. Mentioning black magic tended to have that effect. Mammon grabbed Amsel and pulled the reluctant witch towards the stairs.
"Stop dragging your feet or I'll put you in a body bind, float you up the stairs, and charge you for it," Mammon informed Amsel. The young witch said nothing but stopped dragging her feet. There was a Healer waiting for them at the entrance to the ward. "Are you the two sent from downstairs?" Mammon and Amsel nodded. The Healer ushered them into a side room. "Which one of you has the issue?"
"She does. It's lodged in the scar on her forehead," Mammon replied. The Healer nodded and gestured for Amsel to seat herself opposite him.
"I am Guaritore Marino, miss…"
"Potter. Ivy Potter."
"Miss Potter. I need to perform a scan of the scar," Guaritore Marino said, raising his wand. Amsel lifted her bangs to make things easier. Seconds later the Healer was reading a piece of conjured parchment and growing steadily paler. "What curse were you hit with?"
"The Killing Curse," Amsel replied. What little colour the Healer still had vanished.
"I will need to admit you immediately and inform your magical guardian."
"I am her magical guardian. The change was ratified this morning, as her previous guardian is responsible for not treating her condition," Mammon informed him. Guaritore Marino nodded and hurried out of the room.
A few minutes later, Amsel had been admitted to the ward and was undergoing preparations for an emergency curse removal and cleansing. Having given permission for all the necessary procedures, Mammon found a quiet corner to Mist away. Someone would need to inform the Captain they would be without a Cloud Officer for a few days.
