Chapter Two:
Ivy and Rose
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Hogsmeade looked exactly as Ivy remembered it. The thatch-roofed buildings and quaint little shops blinked to her in the moonlight as she finally rode in from London. Her motor scooter was efficient, but speed was not one of its amenities.
A small group of people spilled out of the Three Broomsticks, so Ivy shrank into the shadows and watched them depart. The whole atmosphere felt different here. Untouched and enchanting, the perfect setting for a fairy tale. Ivy stood on High Street, drinking deep of the fine summer evening.
A strange feeling came over her as she headed toward the heavy wooden door of Rosmerta's pub. Her hand shook as it took hold of the banister. Dread mixed with excitement until she felt positively light-headed. She became so oblivious of her surroundings that she nearly screamed when the steps beneath her rumbled and an enormous man pushed past her and put a hand to the door.
"Sorry Miss," the huge man spoke, turning to look her way. "Di'n't see you there."
Ivy stared at him, mouth hanging open. Never in all of her days had she encountered anybody this big. The hand he used to push open the door was bigger than the tires on her scooter. His hair was a wild black tangle, blown wilder still in the breeze, and as she looked into his eyes Ivy felt faint. Thankfully she had enough presence of mind to tighten her grip on the banister before she fell backward all the way down the stairs.
"Ladies first, hmmm?" the giant asked, in a voice that was pleasant enough. He stepped to the side, holding the door open for her to enter.
Ivy, unfortunately, was rooted to the spot. She could no more make her legs move than she could have kissed the man in the moon. The only thing that saved her was a voice from inside, yelling out her name. Rosmerta rushed past the giant to pull her through the door. Ivy allowed this obediently, but not before noticing the red that had crept into the huge man's face.
You really have forgotten about magic, Ivy scolded herself. And totally embarrassed that man on the step.
There was no time to go back and right things, for Rosmerta was going on about how good it was to see her finally in Hogsmeade.
"I was about to send out a search owl," she informed, looking Ivy over from head to toe. "Where are your things?"
"Out on the scooter," Ivy replied, head still spinning. She looked toward the door, but the huge man had moved to the bar that dominated the back wall of the Three Broomsticks. The crowd was sparse, but Ivy had a feeling that even had the house been packed, someone as large as he would never get lost in a crowd
"Hagrid, be a dear and help Ivy with her things," Rosie commanded happily. The giant turned around.
"Rosie," Ivy protested, giving the man called Hagrid an apologetic look. "I can get those. It's not much, really. I don't even know..."
"Name's Rubeus Hagrid," the giant informed, his eyes burning bright. He held out an enormous hand, and Ivy watched as it swallowed her own.
"I.. I.. Ivy," she stuttered, feeling duller by the moment. "I'm Ivy Ollivander. Just in from..." she paused, not sure exactly how to continue.
Rosie finally came to her rescue. "All right everyone, a round of drinks on me. Come meet my best friend in the world, Ivy Ollivander."
Those still in the pub gathered around, and Ivy pumped more hands, listening politely to names announced that she knew she'd never remember. She watched as Rosmerta rounded the bar and brought down an enormous tankard.
"First one's for you, Hagrid, if you'll bring in Ivy's trunks."
"My pleasure, Rose," Hagrid spoke. Turning to Ivy, he gave her a nod. "Nice to meet you, I- I- Ivy." He winked, then lumbered out the door.
"This is Remus Lupin, Ivy," Rosie said, tearing Ivy's gaze from the receding giant to focus on the man before her. "He's just got a professorship up at Hogwarts. He'll be teaching Defense of the Dark Arts."
A pale young man stood at Rosie's side. His eyes were kind, but weary. The worn robes he wore struck a memory in the depths of her mind, and as they shook hands Ivy got the feeling she'd seen him before. Or at least heard the name. "Oh yes!" she managed finally. "Rosie's spoken of you. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Rosie beamed. Linking her arm in Ivy's she led her to the backside of the bar. "It's time to start earning your keep," she announced, and Ivy spent the next few minutes finding glasses so Rose could serve the customers still in the pub. Ivy discovered that she had no time to be nervous as she scrambled to help her friend.
Hagrid came in with Ivy's trunks as the last few patrons were leaving. Remus Lupin sat alone at the bar, with Rose directly across from him, wiping things up with a towel.
"Just set those down anywhere," she directed the giant. "And come get a drink. You'll need one after that load."
"Not a problem," Hagrid replied, dropping the trunks near the stairs leading to the upper floor. He was beaming, but not just from exertion. Red was creeping back into his face as he picked the tankard up from the bar. He took a long drink, then set it down, wiping his mouth with a sleeve.
"Perfesser Lupin," he grinned. "I heard ya got the job up ta Hogwarts. Congratulations."
Moustache still twitching, he took another long drink.
"What are you hiding, Hagrid?" Rosmerta asked, leaning against the backside of the bar. She'd learned over long years at the pub to read her customers like a book. That was one of the reasons they kept returning.
"Well," the giant began, glancing Ivy's way. "Remus here ain't the on'y new teacher at Hogwarts this year, is all."
Rosie walked to where Hagrid was sitting, hands on hips as she waited for more information. Ivy took a barstool, watching in amusement as her friend faced down the giant. She knew the warm feeling growing inside her had to be showing on the outside. All the doubts she'd harbored earlier in the evening were dissipating, and Ivy felt for the first time that she'd made the right choice.
"Who, Hagrid?" Rose was prodding. "Tell us before you explode."
The giant grinned, unable to hold out any longer. "I'm takin' over the Care 'a Magical Creatures class this year. A'ready got the first critters on order. Hippogriffs. They ought a do nicely, don' ya think?"
Lupin stood to congratulate Hagrid, pumping his arm vigorously. Rose just stared, absently taking the seat that happened to be closest. Obviously there was more to this announcement than Ivy knew, because the longer Rosie stared the redder Hagrid got, until finally he had to hide his face in an enormous handkerchief. Ivy stood to her feet, but Rose held up a hand.
"He's alright," she assured the other girl. "He's waited a long time for this, is all." The older woman sat up straight and gave Ivy a long look. "He's not the only one in this room whose got dreams comin' true, is he?"
Ivy felt her own tears prick the back of her eyelids then, and turned back to her seat to hide them. Remus laid a comforting hand on her arm, and Ivy couldn't help but give him a grateful smile.
"Welcome home, Ivy." Lupin murmured. He held his glass high and turned to face the other three. "May the fates be kind to each of us as we begin our new endeavors."
An oversized tankard of mulled mead, two red currant rums and a glass of soda-and-cherry-syrup all met in mid-air over Rosie's bar and hung there a moment, then the reverent silence was broken as different voices began to talk at once. All but Ivy, who sat quietly watching, happier than she'd been in a very long time.
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"All right then, Ivy," Rosmerta's voice broke the morning quiet. Ivy rolled over to look at her new roommate.
"No sleepin' late 'round here. I've got to show you the kitchen."
"Morning Rose," Ivy sighed. "I don't think I slept a wink, anyway." She peered at the older woman through locks of tousled chestnut hair. Memories came flooding back as Rose stood to make her bed.
"You used to make Mum's bed," she said. "I tried to help and only made things worse." Sitting up, she pushed back her hair and pulled the covers up around her chin.
Rosie smiled at the recollection. "Thought you'd sleep like a baby, being back among us magic-folk. Is it the bed? I had to round it up on short notice, but it seemed..."
"It wasn't the bed," Ivy interrupted. "It was my imagination. I couldn't get it to quiet down long enough for me to go to sleep. I never thought that this would be so... scary."
"'Fraid Daddy'll find you?" Rosie asked, rounding her bed to sit on the edge of Ivy's.
"Yes!," Ivy grimaced. "Not to mention the fact that I'll be surrounded by witches and wizards soon. Everyone who comes to your pub's gonna know, Rosie. They'll know I'm not magic. That giant nearly scared me out of my skin last night. The look in his eyes... I was sure he knew something. He could tell just by looking."
"Hagrid?" Rosie asked, giving her friend pat on the knee. "He's harmless. Can't even do magic himself unless he's got permission. They're not gonna know. Trust me. And if they suspect anything, nobody'd be rude enough to pry. You really are safe here. I promise. Willa and I will be watching your back. We can do this, Ivy. You can do this."
Ivy gave her friend a dubious look "Who's Willa?"
"My house elf."
Ivy groaned and sank back against her headboard, pulling a pillow down over her head.
"She's very loyal," Rose continued. "She won't be tellin' any secrets. Now make your bed and let's get downstairs. We've got lots of ground to cover before tea."
Rosmerta's last statement turned out to be true. Ivy'd barely gotten over meeting Willa, the pub's peach-skinned, violet-eyed house elf, when Rosie attempted to quiz her on the location of various utensils.
"This is my most important tool," she informed her guest, twirling a long maple wand between her fingers. "Since you don't have one, you're going to have to operate a bit differently. Can you cook? You know... the Muggle way?"
"Without magic, you mean?" Ivy countered. "And thanks for bringing that up." She surveyed the kitchen, which consisted of two rooms, one, the preparatory area, with a big black pot-bellied stove, and lots of counter space. In the center of this room sat a huge butcher block table, set with a long, low bench on either side, and heavy wooden chairs at both ends.
The other, smaller room held an oversized fireplace and wooden work island, it's farthest wall set with gold-bathed mullioned windows. Gleaming copper and burnished silver pots and pans winked merrily from various hooks on the walls, and over by the fireplace a door built into the floor stood ajar, revealing stairs that led down to a roomy root cellar.
"It's just a fact of life, Ive, nothin' personal." Rose said, hands on hips as she surveyed her friend. The sea green eyes, the long brown hair, curling slightly now that it had yet to be tamed into its usual twist. Ivy was tall, but not as tall as Rosie. Her complexion was lighter, with a fine dusting of freckles sprinkled across her slightly upturned nose. Where Rosie had always been more curvaceous, Ivy was all angles, with bony shoulders and elbows. Suddenly Rose knew that if she could see under her friend's long black skirt, her knees would be just as bony as they were when they'd been kids together, sharing a room and a bed in the Ollivander household.
"You're gonna have to say goodbye to that chip on your shoulder," the older woman started, softening her gaze. "I swear on my death not to call you a squib, but facts are facts. You have to cook the Muggle way. At least you're not..."
Rosie cast about for an example of something more pitiful than magic-less Ivy.
"A house elf."
Willa, who'd been busy till that point tending a fire in the fireplace, whirled around to throw her mistress a baleful stare.
"House elf's got our own magic, we has," she defended, from the end of a long iron poker. "We gets the potatas peeled and the pheasants plucked. Don't need no wand to do it, neither. And ya wasn't tellin' me she's a squib, Madam Rosie. Means extra work fer Willa, it does, and there's work a'plenty as it is."
Ivy sighed and sank into the nearest chair. "Even the house help hates me."
"Hold on there," Rosie cautioned, giving Willa a blistery look. "Maybe we're just movin' too fast. Maybe you need more time to get settled. I just thought it'd be fun, us workin' together again. Heaven knows I need the help, but that's not important. Not really. You need to learn to trust us, Ivy. You can be yourself here. Not the Ivy you were tryin' to be around Muggles. Not the Ivy pretendin' to be magic for wizards. Just be Ivy Ollivander. The rest'll take care of itself."
Turning around to face the ornately carved but slightly crooked cupboards, Rosmerta lifted her wand.
"We're havin' fish and chips for lunch. And ham and cheese on rye. Old Mr. Honeyduke'll want his usual Reuben sandwich, later, and we'd best not be forgettin' to have him some a those Muggle potato crisps. Dinner'll be Yorkshire pudding with roast beef, and we'll have steak-and-kidney pie. We'll cook up some corn and sweet peas on the side."
At that Willa caused a line of fresh-shucked corn-on-the-cob to float from its storage cellar toward the kitchen's big sink. Rosie Summoned a huge black cauldron and it landed in the fireplace with a clang.
Over at her table Ivy watched in silence for a moment. Rosie had everything planned out so neatly. She looked like a gypsy performing a dance amidst floating pots and utensils. Every moved she made sang of a confidence her younger friend was lacking. She longed for it, but knew that it was missing. Ivy'd always felt so awkward around the more graceful and beautiful Rosmerta. But sitting there in the kitchen, watching sunbeams fill the windows and wash the floor with gold, Ivy felt a new sort of courage grow within her. If Rosie believed, then maybe it was possible for Ivy to live among magical people, as she'd always longed to do. Hope surged inside her and she rose to her feet.
"Did you say Yorkshire pudding?" she asked, twirling deftly to miss a flying pot and its accompanying potatoes and peas. "I forgot all about Yorkshire pudding. Savory or sweet?"
Rose turned to study her face. "Savory tonight, to go with the roast beef, but I'll make some sweet for you tomorrow."
Standing in the kitchen at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, best friend in front of her and house elf behind, Ivy Ollivander burst into tears.
"How could you forget Yorkshire pudding?" Rosie chided, pulling her friend into an embrace.
Ivy laughed through her tears and shrugged her shoulders. "They just don't make it in places I've been."
"We'll make a special dinner tonight then," Rosie announced. "A little bit of all that you've forgotten."
Ivy gave another laugh and looked down at Willa, who was insistently offering a hanky.
"That's OK, Rosie. It's not necessary. Not really. We're going to have lots of time to catch up."
"Won't calls ya a squib no more, Squib," Willa interjected, huge tears shining unshed in her own tennis ball-sized eyes. Ivy'd never seen such a sad face. She nodded solemnly and hid a smile behind the hanky.
"Thanks, Willa," she said, sitting down in her chair.
"We're gonna be all right, you two," Rosie broke in, draping an arm across Ivy's shoulders. "Make us some tea, Willa, while Ivy and I get ready."
A teakettle floated from its resting-place near the hearth, landing in the sink for the house elf to fill.
"I've been gone too long," Ivy murmured, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
"I'll say," Rosie agreed, patting her hand. "Forgettin' Yorkshire pudding. And talkin' all funny like some kinda foreigner. Give me a week and I'll have ya talkin' like the girl that I remember."
"A week?" Ivy teased her.
"Well," Rosie countered. "I could try a Reparo, but I'm not so sure it'd work. Pass the crumpets, will you?"
Ivy passed her friend a plate of crunchy crumpets from the center of the table, as the house elf served the tea.