Disclaimer: All you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling
Summary: In the bowels of the Ministry of Magic is hidden the biggest enigma of the wizarding. No, it is not some weapon, or a spell or even a secret doorway to other words. It's a simple golden goblet with the power to find soul-mates. And every week it produces a list of names, creating a tight contract between the soul-mates and itself. A contract so powerful that breaking it will cost your magic or ever your life.
So what happens when the day after her seventeen birthday, Ivy Potter's name is called out, matched to the one and only Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Slytherin? Hell breaks loose, of course.
Rating: M
Main pairing: Fem!Harry/ Tom Riddle
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, violence, sexual situations
Saints and Sinners
Chapter 2
Aftermath
Ivy groaned quietly as she shifted, the bed covers rustling at the movement. Her head felt heavy and foggy, like it did after she had a bit too much from the Firewhiskey Fred and George loved to sneak in to Griffindor parties. Memories started rushing back to her, at first sluggish and distorted, as if she was looking at them through a one of the foeglasses fake Moody had in his office in her fourth year.
She'd spent the afternoon playing Quidditch with the Weasleys, which explained the dull, pleasant ache in her muscles. It had been a while since she'd played. They'd been talking about the Soul-Matcher, joking around as they were wont to do in the brief moments of levity they could snatch, before going in to hear the names-
Oh, Merlin and Morgana, the names!
Shooting up into a sitting position of the bed and feeling faint once more, the raven-headed witch forced herself to take deep breaths to calm her escalating heartbeat. She remembered now. She must have passed out from the shock, which explained how she had found herself here with no memory of going to bed.
Thankfully, Ginny's and Hermione's bed were empty, giving Ivy the peace and quiet she needed to put her thoughts in order, as much as possible. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind the way Snape had thought her. With time and practice, she'd gotten much better at Occlumency than those first laughable tries in the dungeons at Hogwards. It allowed to her to compartmentalize her thoughts and neatly pack them away until she had the time and emotional strength to deal with them.
It was not, perhaps, the healthiest way of dealing with trauma, but it granted her the ability to stay clear headed in the most daring circumstances. If it didn't she would have probably broken down after Dumbledore's death at the end of the last school year. The Headmaster himself had thought her to do that, while grooming her to stand at the head of the Order in his place.
Once she was sure she wasn't on the verge of emotional breakdown, Ivy pulled herself up from the bed and took a quick stock around the room. Her wand and holster were on the nightstand so she quickly attached them back on her forearm as she headed to the door.
Even from the top of the staircase she could hear the raised voices coming from the kitchen, many more than she would have thought. She started to make out the words as she got closer, pausing on the door for a moment to listen.
"She cannot agree to this!" A rough voice which she recognized as Mad-Eye Moody's, rose abobe the others. If he was here, then the debate must really be heated for him not to notice her presence immediately.
The Weasleys must have called an emergency Order meeting at the news and the realization grated against Ivy's already raw nerves.
She was having hard enough time earning the respect of the older members of the Order of Phoenix without her family undermining her authority at the first moment of weakness. Her age and perceived lack of experience had been a problem since the moment it was revealed Dumbledore had named her his successor. It didn't matter that she had faced Voldemort more times than anyone else or that she had prevailed every single time – there were still those like Mrs. Weasley and Moody, who saw her as nothing more than a child playing a grown-ups game.
"Don't be daft, Alastor!" It was Remus who answered, her honorary godfather, sounding even more tired and weary than usual. At least Ivy could always trust him to choose her side, even against his own believes. Sirius' death had brought them closer; two lost souls, beaten down repeatedly by life and hardship, left to drift alone in the wind. "She will die if she doesn't-"
"Then better die than marry that monster-"
"Alastor!" The others exclaimed in horror at the auror's suggestion. Part of Ivy, that dark pit of self-loathing at the back of her mind, could agree with Moody's vehement suggestion. But there were other factors to consider until she took one decision or another.
Deciding she had heard enough, Ivy pushed the door open, stiffening when all eyes immediately shifted in her direction. She let her gaze sweep over the gathered crowd filling the Burrow's cozy kitchen, ignoring the concern and guilt wafting from some of the members, in favor of keeping her face stone-still.
"I must have missed the meeting announcement." She remarked emotionlessly, looking pointedly in the direction of Mrs. Weasley's guilty countenance. The warm, red-headed woman might be like a mother to her but when it came to running the Order she had no more weight than any other member, despite Ivy's feelings.
"Ivy?" Hermione spoke up softly from where she was sitting between Ron and Ginny, her face wan and worried and bushy hair even more frizzy than usual. "Are you alright?"
Faced with the genuine concern of her closest friends, Ivy allowed herself to soften slightly, offering a half-smile which was much more tired than convincing. "I'll be fine, Mione."
Chairs shifted and dragged to make space for her as she walked over to sit at the head of the table, her customary seat for such meetings. "Now tell me, what could be done for the situation?"
The members of the Order of Phoenix shifted uncomfortably, sharing looks as if daring each other to speak up, like children in a classroom. In the end it was Tonks who decided to speak, though with uncharacteristic timidity, her hair a dull grey color Ivy hadn't seen since last year when Remus had at first refused to accept their bond. "Actually Ivy, there is nothing we could do. You can either accept the match and marry him or lose your magic and possibly die."
Ivy must have made a face at the brutal finality of the statement, because it was Remus who picked up the explanation after shooting an admonishing look in his wife's direction. "The moment the Goblet chooses two people it creates a sort of a magical contract between the soul-mates and itself, similar to the one you had during the Triwizard Tournament." Remus started, in what Ivy had dubbed 'his teacher voice'. It gave her some semblance of calm that the concern evident in the eyes of the company was not present in Lupin's manner of speech. "The contract is pretty simple in its entirety: the couple must marry within two months of the announcement and therefore agree to the match; or refuse and lose their magic. Of course, depending if one or both sides refuse, it is possible for only one of the partners to lose their magic."
Absently, Ivy nodded. While there were no classes at Hogwarts which touched upon the topic of Soul-Magic (beside brief mentions) because it was one of the hardest and most dangerous branches of Magic, the House Heads had made sure their students were all aware of the Goblet and what it meant to hear your name.
"So if I, hypothetically, refuse the bond Tom's magic would remain intact?" Ivy asked, just to make sure. "And what does it really mean to lose your magic?"
"It means having your magical core literally ripped out." Tonks supplied, the look on her face showing how terrifying she found the whole prospect. "But the core is only part of it. As you know, magic circulates the body through channels, similar to the way blood circulates through the blood vessels. The stronger magic one has the bigger their core is and more the channels. That's the reason stronger witches and wizards cannot survive the loss of their magic. It is simply such big part of their body that their organism simply cannot handle the shock."
The terrible hopelessness made Ivy's throat clench and her eyes burn. She had known, logically, that there was little which could be done in the situation. But still, there had been this hope in her that somehow, someone would find a way out.
"Okay," She said finally, grateful that her voice didn't reflect her emotional turmoil. "Alright. I need some time to think." Suddenly impatient to be alone, she pushed back from her chair, ignoring the way it scraped against the floor at the rude handling. "You are dismissed." She didn't wait to watch the members of the Order leave, nor to hear whatever pitying commentary they might be tempted to offer. Instead she bolted out of the suddenly suffocating room before she lost the last dregs of her dignity. Once she was behind the safety of a closed door she would allow herself to break down, to cry and to curse the Fates who hated her.
And once her tears were spent and her voice hoarse from muffled sobs, she would have to make her choice.
AN: Thank you for reading and don't forget read and review.