𝕚𝕧𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕦𝕕

EXTENDED SUMMARY

Ivy Evans was quite the little failure child, the problem child, the girl without morals or pity. A magical genius without a twinge of keenness for the rules. She was an arrogant child, believing herself the most gifted and talented magical prodigy. This led her to an expulsion that tore sisters apart, a downward slope that cost the girls their parents. The rift would never be mended, and when Lily died, Ivy only felt the unspoken words between them, the unresolved fights, the things they could never take back.

In avoidance of her grief, Ivy Evans goes down the dark path to learning the truth of her twin sister's demise. Old demons come out, new enemies strike, and she lands straight in the middle of the fight she'd been trying to avoid since the beginning of the war.

"I WAS A MUGGLEBORN IN SLYTHERIN, IN THE HEIGHT OF PUREBLOOD DOMINANCE AND PREJUDICE. HOW DO YOU THINK IT WENT?"

ＯＮＥ

IVY THE FRAUD

"He has her eyes."

"You used to like her eyes."

"I used to be able to consume dairy too."

SHE HELD THE CARDS IN HER HANDS, her tired lids narrow with just bits of dark hazel visible through the slits and thick lashes. She handled the tarot cards with nimble ease, lips covered in deep, satin red. The woman in front of her was dabbing her eyes as she watched as Ivy, or Wendy as she went by here, placed the cards back in a pile. She smiled again, putting the crying woman at ease.

"They told me you can...you can get in contact with loved ones passed." The woman had been silent for most of her reading, and Ivy's lips straightened, her eyes blank, as she took in the woman's request. "I just want to speak to my husband."

Ivy didn't mind when her clients blabbed about her skills, as it often got more muggles to beg for her aid. Desperate, grieving, widows paid the best. Ivy leaned forward, raising her hand. "Let me see your palm."

"You—You can do it then?" The woman had some level of skepticism slipping in through her Irish accent, and Ivy smiled.

"Your palm. If you are unsatisfied," Ivy shrugged, her northern accent strong on her tongue. "Don't pay."

They always pay, one way or another. The woman, Jacqueline Harper, finally placed her hand into Ivy's awaiting fingers. She was a rich socialite, of the sort Ivy often targeted. Ivy rather liked when rich muggles were in her debt, especially since connections brought about through desperate favours often yielded the best results. The money meant very little to Ivy, but a rich, bored housewife who was married to a wizard without ever knowing he was a wizard? That was without an estimated value.

"What can palm reading do?" Jacqueline was a pretty, French thing, with a button nose and dark hair tied in an intricate bun. She was pale, with just the barest dust of freckles over her skin. It was most definitely her beautiful looks that had gotten a Selmy dark wizard to marry her, despite his prejudice to her kind. It was rather ironic to Ivy, but it answered many questions as to why his wife knew nothing about him, even after his death.

"He died five weeks ago?" Ivy asked, dark eyes scanning Jacqueline's face and watching the woman freeze. "Terrible way to go." Ivy looked at the woman's hand, reading the intricate lines along the woman's palm. The marriage line was divided. There was no new one. Ivy decided not to say that the muggle was never to remarry.

"How could you know that?" Jacqueline asked, looking at her own palm as if she could see anything in the lines.

"I just needed the details so I can contact the other side." This part was all hocus pocus, but it put her clients at ease and made her money. Win-win.

She finally leaned into her chair, letting go of the muggle's hand. Muggles had no sense of security in their thoughts, and she was without morals. In moments, she was scouring through the woman's memories, searching for information, searching for private moments, secrets shared. The woman was shaking, clutching her palm to her chest as she held her wedding ring close to her breast bone. Mostly, Ivy was looking for little secrets her husband might have shared. Dark wizards, especially the rich and powerful ones, always had the best loot.

The candles in the room were dim, illuminating the dark red curtains of the circular room. She had taken the inspiration from a movie she watched, and muggles really dug the hoodoo vibe. She smiled as the candles all extinguished and relit. The sudden darkness and then light caused the woman to jump in her chair, now looking at Ivy as if the woman were a devil. Bright red curls fell over Ivy's shoulders as she slumped forward.

"He is here," Ivy whispered, and the widow pressed her fingers over her face, tears slipping in between her fingers.

She let out unintelligible words that Ivy couldn't understand through the wet palms over her mouth. She had to forcibly stop herself from rolling her eyes.

At the end of the session, Ivy already had nearly 250 sterling in her pocket and had a good idea of what was in Selmy's vault. She counted the money in one hand, twitching her fingers and forcing the room to clean itself. The broom began sweeping away bits of sage ash and the windows opened and let in the light. The curtains blew open and began to dust themselves off. Ivy stood up, her long green skirt fell down past her ankles as another dress came flying towards her. She nonchalantly stripped off the gypsy costume and slipped on a simple grey checkered button-up. The buttons began pinning themselves and the belt wrapped around her waist, dressing her so she didn't have to.

"Sometimes I wonder if you're just showing off," said a voice to her right. She turned, spotting Sirius Black in his stellar fashion as he leaned against the door frame. Ivy's lips curled up in a sly way as she unbuttoned the first two buttons so a bit of her cleavage could show through the conservative dress.

"I thought I was alone." Ivy snapped her fingers and her hair began to braid itself into a flower crown.

"Then you're just lazy," Sirius told her, watching the bright red of her lips twitch up.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Black?" Ivy took a step around the circular table, her fingers dragging along the table cloth. He watched her every step, his dark gaze lingering on her fingertips.

"Aren't you worried of the ministry?" Sirius Black, once a great prankster in Hogwarts, now asking her to obey the rules.

"With the war," Ivy said carefully. "I imagine they have enough to worry about. Do you not think as much?"

"I suppose you can't expect to get expelled twice," he said with a sly smile, a bit of the old mischievous glimmer re-entering his expression. "But you could always go to Azkaban in its stead."

The mention of her expulsion had been a sore subject when it happened in 1977, as heavens knew she could disappoint her parents in new and exciting ways. Now, it being 1981, she was long since removed from the idea. The only thing she truly wished was a wand, for hers had been confiscated and broken. As anyone can see, she was doing just fine without, but wand magic was much simpler.

"Indeed," Ivy agreed, tracing her fingers along the buttons of her dress. "Don't tell me I got dressed in vain, Mr. Black."

Sirius did indeed look down at the buttons, but what he was here for must have outweighed the temptation of a tease, for he did not meet her baiting. Instead, his smile disappeared, making her realize he had been faking it. "Marlene and her family were killed."

Ivy's smirk didn't disappear, but her stomach did lurch. "Who?"

Sirius frowned. "Drop the act, Miss Evans."

Her smile disappeared. "How did it happen?"

"I think you know." He took a step back, creating distance between them as he sat down at her table. She waved her hand, and a glass of water was poured from a pitcher. It floated down towards him and rested next to his head that had lowered into his hands. He didn't grab it.

She leaned against the table, her fingers resting against the wood as she went silent. There must have been a reason he was here, and it couldn't have been for comfort. He, of all people, knew she was a sociopath without social cues. While it had been easy to fall back into their old teasing dance, there had been a gap between them, like a chasm, since her expulsion. Even before then. No longer were there any easy silences as the war raged on and he took up new responsibilities while she denied old ones.

"I know you were friends," he told her, and the former Slytherin glanced down at him through the long lashes, nearly fanning her cheeks.

"I haven't talked to her in five years," she reminded him. "And as you know, she's the one who helped get me expelled."

"You did that all on your own, Ivy." Sirius was quick to go on the defense. Defending Marlene, nothing new. The familiar way he used her name was laden with wry contempt. While they met up every once in a while, in the passing, things had been awkward and strained since she announced that he and his friends could kiss her beautiful peach arse.

"When did it happen?" Her voice didn't give away the lurching in her stomach.

"Two months."

"And you are telling me now because?"

Sirius ran his palm over his face. "I wasn't in a state to find you earlier." Sirius was a hot head, and always the more emotional of the two of them, so she let it slide. "Will you ever join the cause?" Sirius asked, his grey eyes meeting her own. "We need you. Your sister needs you."

Ivy only blinked. "I haven't talked to my sister in two years. She hasn't talked to me either. We don't need each other."

Sirius's eyes were hard, but they softened as he reached over and grabbed her hand. She let him, since he seemed like he needed the comfort. She was quite numb. "She's pregnant."

Ivy tore her hand out of his grasp. "Tell her congrats."

"She wanted to see you."

"Why isn't she here herself then?" Ivy tilted her head to the side. "If she wants to see me, then she should have come herself."

"You aren't exactly easy to find." Sirius stood up, his hair messy. "I only found you because there's been talk of a witch among muggles. A red-haired 'she-demon'." Sirius took a deep breath. "She can't come."

Ivy's lips curled upwards. "Why?"

"She's been marked for death by the other side."

Ivy's brows furrowed. "Why?"

"I can't tell you."

"That's ridiculous. She's no one special, why mark her?"

Sirius took an exasperated deep breath. "A lot has happened. I can't tell you here. There's too much risk." He held out his hand. "Come with me."

Ivy blinked, looking at his hand. Apparating was one thing she could not do without a wand, and she couldn't lie to herself and say she did not miss it. She watched him hold his wand in his other hand, and she stared at it with envy. She had tried to find a replacement, but a wand was a picky son of a bitch, and none that she found on the black market chose her. She told herself she was just unique, that she was perhaps too good for all of them, but it did nothing for her pride. When she had initially gotten her wand at Ollivander's, she had spent a good half a day trying out wands, watching as she nearly cleaned out his store for one that actually wanted her. Meanwhile, perfect, sweet Lily had her wand in under three minutes. When she had the Sorting Hat placed on her head, it had called out Slytherin in half a second, making her nearly think that at least here she could belong.

"No," Ivy said this slowly, and Sirius lowered his hand. She could tell he was disappointed, yet he still expected her rejection. This was already taking too much time. Ivy's eyes went to the clock in the corner of the room, reading that it was a matter of moments before Selmy's friends tried to beat her to all his shite.

Ivy lifted her hand and a golden bracelet came flying to her, unclasping and reclasping on her wrist a graceful motion. It glinted in the light, and more important than its style, was the layer of protective charms she had placed over it in order to conceal location. This was an assurance that she'd never see Sirius Black again.

"That's not my life anymore, Mr. Black."

"You are the only family she had left," he reminded her.

"There's Petunia," she offered, unhelpfully.

Sirius's eyes narrowed. "Ivy."

She smiled. "I have another appointment, Mr. Black. I am sure you know your way out."

There was a part of her that wanted to take him on the table, to strip all his clothes away and make do on everything they ever teased at in the past. She didn't. Instead, she grabbed a small clip from the desk next to candles that she manually blew out. She turned towards him, reaching over and handing him the clip. He stared at it with a bewildered expression. "Give this to her."

"What is it?"

"A hairclip, moron. It was our mothers." The very same diamond clip that Lily had screamed at Ivy for pawning. When Ivy had made her first thousand after being expelled, she bought it back, meaning to give it to her sister. That ended up not happening.

He slipped it into his pocket, hesitating before leaving.

"It was good...seeing you," she said, causing him to halt by the doorway. He had enough sense to realize she warded the place from disapparating.

"I just wish you can say that to your sister since I know you care."