Ivy broke her promise to Lupin three days later. She went for a walk after breakfast, ending up on a rocky crag on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The place wasn't new to her. She'd spied it while clinging madly to the back of Gingerfoot the hippogriff; a small clearing, less than half a mile east of town. A huge dead tree stood sentinel across the street, just at the edge of the forest. The tree itself was rather remarkable; its limbs twisted and bent as if by some gigantic hand. Ivy supposed it to be at least two or three hundred years old.
The other thing that drew her attention was the colony of vultures that lived among the gnarled branches. They spent lazy days like this making slow, effortless circles over Hogsmeade and the moors that surrounded it. When they weren't circling, they rested, wings hunched like great, malformed shoulders, watching... always watching for some unlucky prey to happen by. They fascinated Ivy, with their dark vigilance. She wondered if maybe the dementors from Azkaban prison were their almost-human counter-parts. Thoughts of dementors made Ivy shudder, and she forgot all about her promise not to encourage the stray she'd seen in the alley, when he happened to come upon her.
"There you are, Blackie," she called, as he trotted up to where she was sitting. His tail wagged furiously as he snuffled her hands, but she'd come unprepared for his visit.
"I didn't know you'd be here," she told him, burying her face against his shaggy black neck
"Sheww, doggy," she muttered. "You could really use a bath."
The dog whined in commiseration, then flopped down heavily beside her. She was busy giving him a good scratch on the back when she remembered her promise.
"I'm not supposed to be seen with you, you know," she informed conspiratorially. "Rose and Remus both made me promise." But his company warmed her, and she didn't want to have to shoo him away. She sank back against the sun-warmed rocks, taking in the last of autumn's golden glow. Fall was almost over. Soon it would be Halloween, then Christmas.
"You know," she told the dog, who was half-asleep. "I didn't think I'd last this long in Hogsmeade. I was pretty sure my dad would find me the first week or two. I know it's only been two months, but he hasn't discovered me yet. Maybe I'm safe."
The dog's tail thumped the rocks lazily, scattering pebbles left and right. Ivy sighed and changed positions. Using the dog's broad back for a pillow, she turned her attention to her surroundings.
From where she reclined she could look across the lane and see a bubbling stream running nearly parallel with High Street. To her right, the road led away to the east. There was a wooden bridge across the stream nearly half a mile down that way. It connected the road to a path that led off into the forest. Not far to her left another path trailed off in a north-westerly direction. This path disappeared into the forest as well, and Ivy figured that the two probably met somewhere in the depths of the woods. The Forbidden Forest. She couldn't go in there. At least until the dementors were gone. She figured they might hang around in the depths of those woods somewhere, if dementors took time off, and she'd already had her suspicions about the vulture tree being their favorite hang out. That was enough to keep her out of the woods, even though its fall colors beckoned.
The dog beside her scratched at a flea, breaking Ivy out of her thoughts.
"I wish I'd have known you were coming," she whispered sadly, giving the soft spot behind his ear a scratch. "I could have brought you a feast. Come down to the pub tonight and I'll slip you a ham bone."
The dog, who was christened 'Blackie' now and forever in Ivy's mind, gave a low whine in return. They sat together on the rocks in a companionable silence for nearly two hours before Ivy realized she'd best be getting back to the pub.
"Remember," she told the dog, taking his big head in both her hands and giving it a friendly shake. "Come to the pub when it gets dark and I'll feed ya. Can't let you starve out here. It'll be getting cold soon. You're going to have to store up a little fat for winter."
That last comment caused the dog to bark, and Ivy shushed him up quickly.
"I'm not supposed to be seen with you remember? Professor Lupin acted like you could be an axe murderer, or something. We're going to have to keep this relationship secret, if you want me to keep the ham bones coming."
The dog woofed more quietly then, and snuffled his nose into Ivy's hair. He placed a great shaggy paw on her knee for a minute, looking earnestly into her eyes in that way that only dogs can do, then bounded off the rocks and into the forest. Ivy grinned and turned herself back toward the Three Broomsticks, brushing off every trace of dog hair that might have clung to her during her visit with her new friend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"They're coming today, Ivy," Rose called, her voice pulling Ivy out of a dream where she had been riding on the back of a flying motorcycle with Rubeus Hagrid. He'd told her about the bike only a few nights before, and promised her a ride.
"Who?" she asked groggily, brushing at strands of dream-Hagrid's hair that kept whipping her cheeks. When she opened her eyes she found that it wasn't Hagrid's hair in her face, but her own. A soft groan escaped her as she rolled over. She didn't want to wake up yet. She wanted to ride, and keep on riding, letting the giant take her wherever he wished.
"The kids from up at Hogwarts." Rose's voice came again from downstairs. "Remember, I told you? Halloween is the first Hogwarts Weekend. The students in the third year and up are allowed to come down here for the day. The place will be packed. We've got to get an early start. We did order those extra kegs of butterbeer, didn't we?"
Ivy sat up in bed, the dream sadly slipping away. She did have the vague feeling that maybe shouldn't be thinking thoughts like that about Hagrid. For a minute she felt embarrassment for something she couldn't put her finger on.
"I'm coming," She shouted down the stairs. "And yes we ordered extra. I remember that fellow Starnes getting all excited when you said you needed more."
By mid-morning the place was indeed packed, as Rose had said. Students and teachers alike had descended on Hogsmeade, and Ivy, Rose and Willa had their hands full keeping the customers happy. Professor Lupin came in early, perching on a stool at the end of the bar, where he could have full view of the entire pub. Ivy was glad to see him, but worried. His face seemed particularly pale and drawn. His eyes looked tired, but he seemed to be in good spirits. He ordered a plate of fish and chips and sat back to watch as the Three Broomsticks filled up. Ivy notice that no matter how many trips she made back to the bar, Lupin's plate remained untouched.
A strange energy seemed to descend on the little town as it began to overflow with students. Happy chatter filled the pub, but there was more to it than just the sound of warm, excited voices. Something tangible filled the air, something Ivy could only label 'magic'. She tripped once and nearly spilled a tray loaded with six foaming mugs of butterbeer onto a tiny professor whom Rose had introduced as Filius Flitwick, but at the last moment the tray hovered, then landed smoothly on the table while Ivy recovered her balance. She'd looked around, but neither Rose or Willa had been in sight.
The same thing happened a little later with an order of Brunswick stew. This time she'd turned around a bit too quickly, and the stew left its bowl, only to stop in mid-air, then slosh happily back to its proper place. She apologized profusely to the student, a red-haired boy who looked vaguely familiar, all the while looking around to see who'd been watching her back.
Rose waved to her, then, and Ivy sighed in relief. She must have seen what was about to happen; a real mess if the stew had continued its original flight path into the red-head's lap.
Rose beckoned her over to a table where an ancient looking white-haired wizard sat, along with another wizard and a witch. Ivy paled visibly as she got closer. The man before her could only be Professor Albus Dumbledore, and if anybody could look at someone and know whether they had any scrap of magical power about them, Ivy knew it would have to be him.
"Ivy, come meet Professor Dumbledore."
Ivy groaned inwardly, but smiled down at Hogwart's Headmaster, who was seated at a table close to the bar. He must have noticed her uncertainty, for he stood to his feet with a flourish, and gave her a bow, his eyes twinkling bright. Old gnarled hands took hers, and he shook them vigorously.
"The pleasure is mine," he said, in a most assuring tone, giving her hands an extra squeeze.
"I understand you've recently come to us by way of Australia?"
"Yes, Professor," Ivy said. "Melbourne, to be exact." Her eyes darted toward Rose, but the look on her friend's face gave Ivy the distinct impression that she was on her own. She took a deep breath as Dumbledore resumed his seat, then tried on another smile, this one decidedly more cheerful.
"I like it much better here in Hogsmeade, though. I can never thank Madam Rosmerta enough for letting me stay."
"Melbourne's loss, as they say." Dumbledore agreed. "And may I introduce Professor McGonagall, and Professor Vector, two of Hogwart's finest?"
Ivy greeted the others as warmly as she could while shaking in her boots. She'd never felt as close to being found out as she did at that moment.
"And what kind of work did you do in Australia?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Oh I..." she floundered for a minute. "I taught mythology. In Philadelphia, then Melbourne. First in high school, and later in college."
"Interesting," Dumbledore observed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Why mythology?" Professor McGonagall asked.
Ivy grinned. That one was easy. "I've always found the Muggle version of magical things quite fascinating. Try as they might, they can't account for everything. So they've woven stories since time began, trying to explain the unexplainable."
And those stories brought me as close to magical things as I could get.
Ivy winced at the thought, realizing that she had come dangerously close to revealing too much.
Rose must have noticed, for she came to Ivy's side, blithely changing the subject to talk about what seemed to be dwelling on everybody's mind: Azkaban's dementors.
"It was very nice to meet you," Ivy said vaguely, feeling a little faint. She excused herself to the bar, where another red-haired boy stood patiently waiting.
"Can I help you?" she asked, studying his face. Something about him made her feel as thought she might have known him a very long time ago.
"Just a couple mugs of butterbeer," he asked, his face reddening at her open scrutiny.
Ivy filled one tankard and set it on the bar, and suddenly her face brightened. "I remember now... You must be related to Charlie Weasley. Is he your..."
"Brother, yeah. So's Bill. And Percy over there, the one you almost dumped the stew on. Pity you caught it."
Ivy filled the other mug and walked around the bar with it, following the boy over to his table. "I'm Ivy Ollivander. I used to know your brothers."
"Everybody around here knows them," the boy complained. "I'm Ron, by the way. And this is Hermione Granger."
Ivy smiled, and this time the expression was genuine.
"So did Charlie go off to raise dragons in Romania?" she asked, putting the mug on the table in front of Hermione. She couldn't help but be a little excited about a link to a time when she was still a welcome part of the wizarding world.
"He always said he would. I used to think he was so cute. I had quite the crush on hi--" She stopped when she noticed scowl on Ron's face. It became suddenly obvious to Ivy that Ron did not want to hear about girls having crushes on his older brother.
"Sorry," she said. "Didn't mean to go on. I just... well, never mind. I better get back to work."
"Wait," Ron said. "I'm sorry. I was rude. Didn't mean to run you off. It just gets old, you know, walking in their footprints all the time. Everything's hand-me-down." And when a pretty older woman looks at you that way, it shouldn't be because she's remembering your brother, he thought miserably.
"Well, I knew you looked familiar." she started carefully. "A very long time ago I used to play with Charlie and Bill. Our mums were friends." Her voice sounded suddenly far off, and she looked down, wiping the table off with a towel.
"I think Charlie is very nice looking," Hermione chimed in, throwing Ron a quick glare.
Ivy looked up, a wisp of pain showing in her eyes, but only for a moment. "That was a long time ago," she admitted. "And I'd best be getting back to work. I hope you two enjoy your day in Hogsmeade."
"Nice to meet you," Hermoine called as Ivy went back to the bar. Ivy turned and gave her a smile, then turned her attention to another waiting patron. A little later she looked up and saw Ron and Hermione on the other side of the bar.
"Need a refill?" she asked.
"No," Hermione said, taking an empty seat. "I just wanted to hear some more about when you knew Charlie and Bill. And don't mind Ron, he really didn't mean to make you sad."
"No!" Ivy said. "It wasn't Ron. Thinking of Charlie made me think of my mother, that's all. She died a long time ago. But I guess you never get over missing your Mum."
Just then Hagrid burst through the front door. Ivy's face went pink as she remembered tendrils of her fading dream. Ron and Hermione both greeted the giant with happy grins.
"Hi Hagrid," Ivy joined in. "Can I get you anything?" He still looked troubled, and she couldn't wait to ask how progress was going with Buckbeak. "How's the case going?"
"Better'n expected, thanks to these two an' Harry. They're helpin' me wi' a defense."
"That's good news, right?" she took his tankard down from its shelf, but he waved it away.
"Think I'll just have summat to eat. Maybe an ale. A small one."
"We've got stew today. Or fish and chips. Or ham and fried potatoes." The ham made her think of Blackie. A few more slabs cut off the one in the kitchen, and she'd have him a brand new bone.
"I'll take the ham," said Hagrid, then he turned his attention to the youngsters. "Found out anythin' new?"
Hermione was shaking her head no when Ivy retreated into the kitchen. She'd just headed toward the fireplace when she heard voices coming from the back step. She didn't want to eavesdrop, but she did have to get that ham.
"He's getting sick again," came a voice that Ivy recognized immediately. She hadn't seen Professor Snape in the pub, but she knew his voice on the back step when she heard it. "I thought the potions would be enough, but I'm going to need your help tonight. I must show up at the Halloween feast. I'll need someone to watch him."
"I'd be glad to help," came another voice, this one Rose's. "Soon as the pub clears out, I'll be there, Professor."
Snape's voice came back, and Ivy could almost see the sneer on his face, it dripped so heavily into his voice.
"I do not see the wisdom in continuing this... effort."
Another voice came then, this one softer, but definitely more determined. "Yours is not to reason why, Severus," It was Albus Dumbledore. "You've procured some very good help, here. The potion will kick in eventually. I believe that's all you need concern yourself with."
Ivy heard the distinct sound of heels clumping down the back stairs then. She carefully flipped the ham, then slid it onto a plate. She was dishing out fried potatoes when she heard Professor Dumbledore speak again.
"I feel much better knowing I can count on you, Rosmerta. Your merlin will be perfect. Stick to the plan though, nothing heroic. If anything happens I want you to fly away. Do you have any other questions?"
Ivy didn't wait to hear her friend's reply. Maybe Rose would have no questions, but suddenly Ivy was full of them. What did Dumbledore mean by 'Your merlin is perfect'? And would there be a need for Rose to be heroic? As for flying away... Ivy supposed that could refer to Apparating, or maybe she'd have her broom nearby. Puzzled, she slid the plates onto her arm, grabbed a tankard and headed for the bar, wondering if she'd ever find out was Rose was really up to.
When she got back to the bar, Remus Lupin had joined Hagrid, Hermione and Ron. He looked even more pale than he had before.
"Professor Lupin," Ivy said. Suddenly she wished that she could make him feel better with a chunk of chocolate, as he'd done for her. "Can I get you something? Anything? Maybe Rose could mix you up a tonic."
"So I look that bad, then?"
Ivy served Hagrid his food and ale then shot a worried glance at Lupin. "Maybe you should go home and rest."
"I will. In a little while. Can I get the usual first?"
Ivy nodded, then shared her worried look with Hermione. She mixed a red currant rum, then handed it to Lupin. His fingers felt like slivers of ice.
"Look," Ron suddenly spoke up. "We promised we'd bring some sweets back from Honeydukes, for a friend. We'll go pick some up, then we can help Professor Lupin back to Hogwarts." He wanted very badly to make up for being rude to Ivy earlier.
"Good idea," Ivy said, breathing a sigh of relief. Her eyes went wide at the thought of Remus walking all the way back on his own. She watched as Ron and Hermione left, along with several other students. Turning back, she was just in time to hear Lupin moan quietly, then slump over the bar, unconscious.
"Oh no," she murmured, rounding the bar to rush to his side. She pressed a hand to his forehead, but instead of fever, he was clammy and cold. Shaking his shoulder in a futile attempt to wake him, she turned her eyes toward her companion. "Hagrid, what should we do?"
Before the giant could reply Rose came running from the kitchen. Her face was nearly as pale as Lupin's
"Hagrid!" she barked. "Take Remus to the upstairs bedroom. I'll go and see if Professor Dumbledore is still outside. Ivy..." she glanced at her friend, and Ivy could see the panic that flirted in the depths of her eyes.
"Stay down here and take care of the pub. I'll mix up a tonic as soon as I get back."
Ivy swallowed hard as Hagrid scooped up Lupin. Like a rag doll, his head hung loosely. His arms swayed with every move Hagrid made. She watched from her post at the bar as the two of them disappeared up the staircase. A cluster of onlookers that had gathered at the bar broke up at that point, and Ivy got the distinct impression that some of the magic had gone out of the day.
Ron and Hermione entered the pub just as Hagrid rejoined Ivy at the bar.
"He's sleepin' peaceful, reckon," Hagrid said. "Rose's tonic'll help 'im out, Ivy. No need to worry."
But Ivy was worried. Even Hagrid's assurances couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. Maybe it had been the way he'd hung so limp in Hagrid's arms, or the grayish tinge in his face. Or the way he'd just pitched over onto the bar without a word of warning. Just that groan. A sound that continued to replay itself unmercifully in Ivy's head.
She explained to Ron and Hermoine what had happened, and watched as they left the pub. Everyone was beginning to clear out now, as time for the Halloween Feast at Hogwarts drew near. Ivy watched them leave in groups, heads all bent together in various speculations about the Professor and his collapse.
Rose came in as the last of them were leaving. A wooden crate, its contents smoking slightly, was clutched to her chest.
"This tonic'll fix him up," she said, eyes darting form Hagrid to Ivy. Her fingers dug nervously into the wood of the crate, and Ivy could see the scratch marks she'd left there.
"Will you go check on Remus, Ivy?" she asked, and Ivy clearly heard a touch of panic in her voice. Without a word, she rounded the bar and headed up the stairs. Remus was lying on her bed, on his side, curled into a fetal position. His eyes opened as she placed a hand across his forehead.
"Ivy," he started, but she wouldn't let him speak.
"Everything's going to be alright, Professor. Rose is fixing you a nice tonic, and as soon as you're able, Hagrid can help you get home."
He gave her a wan smile and took her hand. "Please, Ivy... don't you know me well enough by now to call me by my first name?"
Ivy smiled. His gentle patter made her feel as though a hundred pound weight had just been gently lifted from her shoulders. Surely men who were dying didn't make jokes about first names.
"I'd be honored, Remus." She patted his shoulder. "You should've stayed home in bed, today."
"I know. But I thought you might need a little help." His eyes widened, then closed and he covered his face with his hands.
"Remus! What is it? Are you in pain?" Ivy asked, shaking his shoulder.
"No, Ivy. Just a little tired. Would you mind going downstairs and asking Rose how much longer on the tonic?"
"Of course not," she said, giving his arm a squeeze. "I'll be back in a minute."
She ran down the stairs, and that's when his words struck her as odd. He'd said that he thought she'd need help. But why would he think such a thing? Her first Hogwarts Weekend had been busy, and there had been moments when she forgot orders, or mixed something up. Not to mention that near-fiasco with a bowl of stew. Ivy's eyes widened in wonder. Had Lupin been the one who'd caused the soup to return to its bowl? She shook her head, skipping the last two steps and heading for the kitchen. Lupin couldn't have been the one who'd rescued her from that one. Lupin didn't Know.
Rose met her half-way across the pub with a goblet full of something that was steaming faintly. But as she got closer Ivy realized that 'steam' was probably the wrong word. Steam was light and see-through. What wafted off the goblet in Rose's hand was thick and opalescent. And green.
"Is it alright?" Rose asked as she breezed past Ivy.
"It?"
Rose's eyes danced from the goblet to Ivy's face.
"Him, I mean... he. Is he alright?"
"He seems better. He's talking, anyway. Looks like he could use a big dose of iron. Maybe he's anemic."
Rose shrugged. It was obvious that she had other things on her mind. Without another word, she headed for the stairs, nearly tripping over the first one as she concentrated on the goblet, instead of her footing.
Ivy walked over to the bar, where Hagrid sat watching. He'd found his tankard and filled it with mead sometime during Ivy's absence, but that was nothing new. He was probably their best customer, at least the most faithful, and if he had an occasion to help himself to something, no one minded.
Thinking about faithfulness gave Ivy a start. She'd forgotten to leave Blackie his bone, and it was getting dark outside. She groaned at the thought of leaving the pub after dark. Even Hagrid complained about having to walk past dementors every time he left to go home. Ivy's experience with the demon guards had made her dread every sunset, and just the thought of sticking her head out the back door after dark gave her a shudder. She couldn't ask Hagrid to do it. He'd ask questions, or worse, mention her enormous pet to Rose. Then she'd be in trouble.
There was no way around it. She'd have to do it herself. The dog depended on her for food. She hadn't seen him in a day or two, which meant that he had to be hungry. Ivy had her suspicions that he had other people tossing him bones from their back steps, but she still felt responsible for his care. Besides... If Rose saw the bone in the morning, she'd toss it out with the trash.
She smiled apologetically at Hagrid, took his long-empty plate with her, and slipped into the kitchen. Hefting the bone in both her hands made her smile widen. This was a good one. She'd made sure to leave lots of meat stuck to it, and it still dripped juicily. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out onto the back stairs landing, making sure this time to leave the door wide open. If Blackie wanted this bone, he would have to come to her. She was not leaving the rectangle of golden light that cascaded across the landing.
"Blackie," she called into the night. At first there was nothing, but then she heard an all too familiar whine. "There you are, you big--"
Her greeting was cut off as a huge hand gripped her shoulder and dragged her back into the pub.
"WHAT'ER YOU THINKIN'?" Hagrid all but bellowed at her. "Ya shou'n't be goin' out there after dark. Ha'n't we warned ya 'bout the dementors?"
Ivy stared up at him, ham bone still dripping in her hand. She'd never seen his usually ruddy face go so pale. Immediately she felt guilty and dropped her gaze.
"I was tryin' to feed a dog," she mumbled, holding up the ham bone. "He comes around here looking for food. I usually toss him something before sundown, but with Professor Lupin... I just forgot. And yes. You warned me about the dementors." She closed her eyes against that memory.
"Gimme that," Hagrid sighed, reaching for the bone. It was slippery, and she nearly dropped it raising it up to his outstretched hand. Instinctively, she caught it with her other hand, fumbling with it's slickness until both her hands and the bone landed in the giant's massive palm. She tried pulling her right hand out from under it while steadying it with her left, nearly crying out in frustration.
The warmth of Hagrid's hand stole quickly up her arm and into her face, causing a furious blush along her cheekbones. For a minute she was stuck there, both hands underneath a very slippery ham bone. She stretched them out, fascinated by the fact that both of them fit into his palm, with room to spare. His fingers curled reflexively around her wrists, brushing against the place where her heart beat pulsed. That pulse quickened noticeably at his touch.
"Sorry..." she mumbled, tearing her gaze from his face to slip one hand out from under the bone, and then the other. Slowly. So slowly that she shocked herself. She backed away from Hagrid while he took the bone outside and hurled it across the alley. She met him with a huge linen napkin, wiping her own hands off with one end while he used the other.
She ventured a look at him, and almost laughed. A crimson glow had stolen from his cheeks all the way up to his forehead. His eyes were huge for a moment, then he coughed far too loudly and strode across the room, dropping the napkin onto the kitchen table.
"If 'e wants it, he can go find it," Hagrid muttered, then he walked out of the room, leaving Ivy alone in the kitchen. She stood there for a minute, then rushed to catch up.
"Hagrid, wait," she said, half expecting him to be gone before she could make it around the bar. When she got there he had his face hidden behind the ever-present tankard. He thumped it down on the bar, making Ivy jump.
"Foul beasts, dementors," Hagrid said quietly. "I spen' a little time in Azkaban myself, not long ago. Never wanna feel that cold again."
"You went to Azkaban?" Ivy asked, taking a seat on the opposite side of the bar. Suddenly the interlude in the kitchen was forgotten. The small cloud of tension between them had dissipated, and Ivy was glad.
"Don' worry, I ain't a criminal er nothin'," he added darkly. "I was innocent."
"Yeah," she laughed. "That's what they all say." She reached across the shelf just under the bar and brought out a deck of cards, dealing them between herself and Hagrid. This was much safer, familiar ground than the slippery slope they'd been standing on back in the kitchen.
"Happy Halloween, by the way," she said, picking up her cards. "There's some pumpkin pie in the kitchen. I'll get us a piece if you want."
"It can wait till I beat ya at this hand, reckon."
Ivy laughed, allowing her gaze to float upward, toward where Rose still tended to Lupin.
"He'll be a'right," Hagrid said, following her gaze. "Come on, play yer hand. I wanna see what yer holdin'."
Ivy laid down a pair of twos and three eights. "Full house," she grinned.
"Hold on," Hagrid complained, moustache twitching. "Nobody's that lucky, firs' hand. I think yer cheatin'."
"Cheatin'?" she asked, trying hard to match his accent. "Maybe I'm just better at cards than you."
"Maybe th' moon's made a cheese."
Eight hands and one-and-a-half pumpkin pies later, the giant rose to leave. Ivy ran upstairs to see if Rose thought Hagrid should take Lupin home. She swung into the room, hand still clutching the doorpost, and found it totally empty.