Chapter 11
AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊. I hope everyone's doing well with the current craziness going on.
canis lupus familiaris: The name is pronounced Jelly-cle. Like icicle but with jelly
Saul Croaker, senior Unspeakable and chief liaison between the British Department of Mysteries and the rest of the world, had been having a quiet day when there was a knock at his office door.
"Come in," he called. A wizard wearing the robes and crest of the Italian Department of Mysteries entered the office, shutting the door behind him and shooting several privacy spells at it before lowering his hood. Saul recognised him as his opposite number from Italy, Matteo Rossi.
"Signor Rossi. What can I do for you?" Saul asked, gesturing for the man to take a seat.
Signor Rossi sat down and pulled out a file from a space-expanded pocket. "A week ago, my department received a message from Ospedale magico di San Pellegrino Laziosi about an unusual case. A British girl had been brought in by her magical guardian with a mass of black magic in trapped in a scar on her forehead. This girl was none other than Ivy-Rose Potter."
Saul's eyebrows shot up. There had been black magic in the poor girl's head?! Lodged in that famous scar?!
"When questioned by the Healers prior to the cleansing ritual to remove the foul taint, Miss Potter stated that, to the best of her knowledge, the scar had not once been checked by a qualified Healer in the almost fourteen years since she acquired it. This is despite it leaking enough black magic that it should have been noticeable to anyone with any level of magical sensitivity," Rossi continued. How in Merlin's name had no one noticed that before?!
"I'm guessing you're not here to offer us the chance to study it?" Saul asked. Rossi shook his head. "In that case, one moment please." Saul went over to a locked cabinet behind his desk and retrieved two tumblers and a sealed bottle of Ogden's finest. Alcohol was strongly discouraged while in the Department, but Saul felt his superiors would understand when whatever bad news Rossi had for him was relayed to them. Pouring both of them a small tot of whiskey, he gestured for Rossi to continue.
"The magic taken from Miss Potter's scar contains a piece of soul that, given the time frame, we are certain belongs to Voldemort. The scar was a Horcrux."
"WHAT?!" Someone had made one of those foul abominations?! And put it in a child's head?! He grabbed the file Rossi had placed on the table and started reading.
"You heard me. The amount of soul in the magical residue is tiny – barely large enough to act as an anchor. We believe that this Horcrux was created accidentally when Voldemort died that night. This would only be possible if Voldemort had made more Horcruxes prior to that night; enough that his soul was so weakened that a tiny part broke off when he was hit be whatever killed him that night and lodged itself in Miss Potter's scar. Miss Potter has been fully cleansed of the taint and is now receiving psychological help for the aftereffects," Rossi told him.
Saul set the file down and took a sip of his desperately needed drink, his mind whirling. Voldemort – he supressed a shudder at the name – had made Horcruxes. Enough that his soul had been so fragile a bit broke off when he died. That meant there were more of the abominations out there. "We need a way to track the things down."
"Already started. I've been authorised to give your Department as much assistance as possible in this matter; hunting down those abominations is a priority for all Unspeakables," Rossi said.
Saul nodded gratefully. "You have my thanks, Rossi. We also need to figure out how he found out how to make them; I think a visit to the Hogwarts library may need to be arranged. Before we do any of that though, I need to give the higher-ups the bad news." He tossed back the last of his drink.
"This is good whiskey," Rossi said as he finished his own drink.
"You'll need it; you're coming with me," Saul replied, grabbing the file and leading the way out of the office. His day just got a whole lot busier.
Ivy felt the discussion with Luss went about as well as it could have. She had spent the first hour taking Luss through the Healer's notes and translating what magical terms she could understand. The flamboyant Sun had been very unhappy hearing about the binds on her magic, even though Ivy explained that the Healers had told her they were of a kind meant to prevent destructive magical accidents in small children. Flame users considered binding the power of an Active for any reason to be cruel and was usually only done as punishment. Luss getting upset on her behalf was… strangely heart-warming and not something Ivy was used to.
Then there came the scars. Luss had insisted on double-checking the much-reduced scar on her forehead, which Ivy allowed since the okama was clearly still upset. Next was the confirmation that yes, the scars on her back were from abuse by her mundane relatives, as were most of the others. Then she had to explain the magically-acquired injuries; the story of having to regrow all the bones in her right arm after that fool Lockhart vanished them got a chuckle and a sympathetic wince from Luss.
Admitting that the scar on her right forearm was from a sixty-foot Basilisk… yeah, that didn't go down well at all. Luss had grabbed Ivy and dragged her down to Medical for a blood test. Ivy wasn't even sure the tests Luss wanted to do could detect the poison – machines and magic didn't mix well at all – but she allowed the samples to be taken anyway. The last thing she needed was Luss getting upset and deciding she wasn't looking after herself. Still, her patience, already worn down by three days of continuous magical prodding, was stretching dangerously thin. Thankfully, Luss had recognised the warning signs of a Cloud on the verge of snapping and released her for the day.
When she got back to her office, she found a note from Squalo demanding all the information she could give him on magic and Magical Britain. Figuring this was punishment for unintentionally adding to the Captain's already large workload, Ivy set to work. She made sure to note right at the start that non-magicals couldn't see most spells, although they could see the effects and be affected by them. Explaining the blood status system and its effect on British wizarding culture was a headache; she had resorted to charts and diagrams for that bit, as well as the explanation of how Dumbledore managed to be in charge of everything without actually running the country. Still, she got it done. She then folded it into a paper airplane, charmed it so it would only be visible to the recipient (thank you, new Charms book) and then charmed it to fly to his office. Now she could finally get started on the paperwork that had built up in her five-day absence. A small meow caused her to look down as Jellicle, who was gnawing on her jacket. She would start right after the fed the cat. And herself.
Sirius stood halfway up the long driveway, looking at the castle before him. He could smell the faint scent of blood and decay from here. He didn't like this place, but his magic was telling him his pup was in there. He had wanted to surprise her, but something about this place was telling him that is probably wasn't the best idea. Still, he wanted to see Ivy again, so in he would go.
Padfoot trotted up the driveway towards the front doors, resolutely ignoring the smell of blood growing stronger with every step. Ivy had told him these people were her friends, and they had helped her with her scar. Besides, there were a few reasons why the place would smell of blood; there could be vampires living here and his pup either hadn't realised or didn't think it was important. After all, she didn't judge Remus for being a werewolf.
As Padfoot neared the doors he heard a hiss from behind him. Turning around, he came face to face with a larger than average cat. Scratch that, several larger than average cats. Much larger. All hissing. At him.
Padfoot growled; no cat was going to stop him seeing his pup.
That was the wrong thing to do.
Ivy had made good progress with her paperwork when Wraith – formerly Jinx – appeared in her doorway.
"Amsel, you've got to see this! It's hilarious!" the Mist said, bouncing eagerly on her toes.
"What?" Amsel asked, setting her pen aside. Anything that had her friend so excited was bound to be amusing.
"There's a huge Irish Wolfhound outside being chased up and down the front garden by the cats!" Wraith giggled as the pair headed outside. Amsel had to smile. The Varia's cats were mainly for pest control, but also doubled as a security feature. Various assassins had brought home several non-domestic felines over the years, which had interbred with the resident domestic cats to various degrees. Add in Flames and you got the rather large and intelligent cats they had today. Amsel suspected from their behaviour that there was a Kneazle in there somewhere.
Wait, Irish Wolfhound?
Ivy sped up. Irish Wolfhounds were not common dogs in Italy. The chances of this one being a stray and just happening to find its way to the Varia were astronomically small.
The two teens made it to the front door to find a large group of assassins laughing as a large black Irish Wolfhound sped past, closely followed by a clowder of hissing and spitting Varia cats. Several people were recording the scene for posterity.
Ivy managed to get a good look at the dog on its way back. Yep, it was Sirius alright. How he pissed off the cats was anyone's guess. She debated for a moment about whether she should let the entertainment continue, then decided against it. Sirius had learned his lesson about sneaking into the Varia while dog shaped. Ivy forced her way to the front of the crowd.
"Padfoot!" she called. Sirius turned his head at her call and quickly changed direction, dodging the cat trying to pounce on him. He charged towards her at full speed and knocked her off her feet.
"Hey Paddy. What're you doing here boy? Hahaha! Stop it! Hahaha! Bad Padfoot!" Ivy laughed as her dog-father proceeded to drown her in dog slobber.
"Is this your dog Officer?" Alkyón of Storm Division asked, laughter in his voice. Ivy made a mental note to retrieve the recordings of this as soon as she could, preferably before Mammon got hold of them.
"No, he's my godfather's. If Padfoot's here then he can't be far behind. I'd better go head him off before he gets here," Ivy said, pulling herself upright and placing a hand on Sirius' neck. She spotted Wraith talking to one of the assassins who had been recording the incident – likely bargaining for a copy, the traitor. Ivy set off down the drive, Padfoot in tow.
Once they were well out of sight of the Varia – and she had checked for any nosy Varia following them – she turned to Sirius.
"You can turn back now."
Sirius shifted back into human form and hugged her tightly. "Oh pup, I've missed you."
"I've missed you too Sirius," Ivy replied, hugging him back just as tightly.
Sirius placed his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm's length. "You've grown, pup," he said in a mock accusing tone.
Ivy laughed, "It's amazing what the right diet, regular exercise, and having full access to my core can do. You're looking much better as well."
"I feel much better. You were right; I did need a little time to myself. I have to ask, why did that man call you Officer?" Sirius asked.
Ivy's mind raced for a moment. "He called me Officer because I am his superior. Everyone in that castle works for the international branch of a very large muggle company."
"You're only fifteen though. You don't even have your OWLs yet."
"I initially went in as a member of the Housekeeping Division that sees to the castle's upkeep – they take a lot of teenagers looking for work and somewhere to stay. One of the other Officers noticed I had a knack for the work and took me on. The promotion to Officer is pretty recent; the old Officer disappeared suddenly, and my mentor recommended me to replace him while they figure out where he is and if he's coming back. I'm purely admin for now though; they're not going to send me out to do business until I can pass for eighteen," Ivy said, spinning her lie. She felt bad lying to Sirius, but she couldn't tell him the truth. That would drag him into omerta and into more danger than he was already in because of his fugitive status. Besides, she wasn't so much lying as re-wording the facts: she had originally been in Housekeeping, as that was where all underage recruits went; Luss had noticed she had a knack for Medical work early on in her job; Ottabio had seemingly disappeared until Ivy admitted to killing him; and Squalo confirming her promotion could be twisted to say he'd given her the promotion. Not quite lie but not really fact either. She couldn't tell him what really happened; he'd freak out and try to drag her away, despite the fact she was happy and settled here.
Sirius nodded, accepting the lie. "Ah, ok. But what about the smell of blood? It's pretty fresh."
"There's a lot of game around here and some of the guys like to hunt. There's an on-site butchery," Ivy explained. It even had the benefit of being true. Sirius gave her a funny look but accepted her explanation.
"How about you come back to mine and we have a proper catch-up? Talking on the mirror is all well and good, but its not the same as talking face-to-face," Sirius suggested hopefully.
"I've got a lot of work to catch up on today – I've been in hospital for five days and I swear the paperwork is breeding – but how about tomorrow? It's a Sunday, so I'll be free," Ivy offered, having seen the man wilt at the mention of her having work.
Sirius bounced back like a Puffskein off a rubber wall. "That's great. I'll come and pick you up from the end of the road. I'm staying in the Black Villa near Syracuse, so I'll have to Apparate you there and back."
"It's set then. I'll meet you at the end of the road at 11 o'clock tomorrow morning," Ivy said with a smile. Sirius smiled back and she pulled him back into another hug. She hadn't realised just how much she'd missed him.
