Ivy stood at her front gate, trying to decide which way to turn. As much as she'd promised to meet Hagrid for dinner, she also burned to tell Rose everything that had transpired in her kitchen. She glanced from the path across the street to the Three Broomsticks sign swaying in the breeze over the entrance to the pub.
Opening the gate, she made her decision, turning to run down High Street to Rosmerta's. She needed advice from her friend, and she needed it now.
She found Rosie polishing tables. The pub was deserted, except for Renfroe and his son Reginald. When Rose saw Ivy, her face lit up. She dropped her towel and met Ivy at the bar.
"So... are you going?"
"Don't tell me you've already heard," Ivy whined.
"Professor Dumbledore came by to see if you were here. He asked if losing you this summer would cause a burden. I told him to take a look around, and he'd know the answer to that one."
Ivy gave her a smile. "Yes," she admitted. "I'm going. To keep an eye on things for Dumbledore. Don't know why he picked me, but at least I know my way around Muggles."
Rose gave her a hug, smoothing a hand through her hair. It had a bad habit of tangling up since Ivy didn't bother to braid it anymore. "You'll do just fine."
"There's something else," Ivy said, grabbing her friend and pulling her to a table. As Rose sat down Ivy gave her a half-cursty and a grin. "I told Hagrid everything today. And he doesn't care."
Rose raised an eyebrow. "You told him...?"
Ivy sat down and leaned across the table so she could whisper. "That I'm not magic, and that I love him."
"And he doesn't care?"
"Rose!" Ivy protested. "He doesn't care about the magic, and he said he didn't believe I killed Mum."
"You gave him that story, too?"
"I told him everything. And I'm supposed to be over there right now. He's cooking us dinner."
"Ivy!" Rose grinned. "That is good news. Well, except that Hagrid's cooking. I'm happy for you, love. But I'm going to miss you this summer."
"I'll miss you too, Rose. But this time I'm coming back in a few months. Not years."
"You'd better," Rose said.
"Oh, there's one more thing," Ivy remembered. "Dumbledore offered me a job at Hogwarts for the year after next. He wants me to teach Muggle Studies."
"And did you accept?"
"He said he'd wait for my answer. He also said I'd have to tell Father first, or he'd hear about it in the Daily Prophet."
Rose grimaced. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know!" Ivy admitted. "That's why I'm here. I need your advice. What would you do if you were me?"
"First, I'd get myself over to Hagrid's. You'd rather have stoat sandwiches when they're fresh. Then I'd talk it over with him. But I wouldn't let a rift between you and your dad keep you from accepting the position. Make up with Augustus and take the job. I know you miss teaching."
"You make it sound so simple."
"It is simple, Ivy. Trust yourself. You can do it. But if we're talking about Hagrid's cooking, it's best if you hold your nose before you swallow."
Ivy laughed as Rose stood to her feet.
"Go on, then. Get yourself up to Hogwarts. You don't want to keep the giant of your dreams waiting."
Rose embraced Ivy one more time, then sent her out the door toward Hagrid's hut.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ivy walked up the street, past the train station and through the winged-boar gates of Hogwarts. The castle looked different this time, and as she walked past it, she wondered what it might be like to actually work there. To walk its halls because she belonged. The thought made a shiver of delight course through her. Rosie was right, she did miss teaching.
Shaking her head to reign her imagination back in, she knocked on Hagrid's front door, peering into a window when he didn't answer right away. The place looked a bit more disheveled than usual. Through the glass she could see boxes and crates stacked on the floor, with clothing and papers and miscellaneous junk poking out in all directions. Another jumble was scattered across the table. Frowning, Ivy pounded on the door one more time. She could hear Hagrid singing inside, and the aroma wafting past the door was rather pleasant. Now if she could only get him to let her inside.
"Hagrid!" She rapped at the window, and that seemed to get his attention. His face lit up when he saw her, and he turned from his stewpot to open the door.
"There yeh are, Ivy," he grinned, standing aside so she could come in. "Ever'thing's jus' about ready."
"Is this how you pack for a trip?" she asked, surveying the mess.
"Nah," he grinned. "I had ter find summat before I could leave."
"And did you...?"
"I'll get ter that later," he smirked, wrapping his hands around a stack of papers on the table. He dropped them into a nearby trunk, causing a cloud of dust.
"Then can I help with this... stuff?"
"Sure yeh can. Just chunk it all over there in the trunk. I'll sort it out later."
Ivy walked around the mess on the table. "This is some collection." Her fingers trailed over a shield of hammered steel that sported a golden griffon on the front. When she tried to lift it from its place against a chair, it nearly tipped her over.
"That belonged ter one a my relatives on my mum's side," Hagrid explained, lifting it up with one hand and setting it against the back door. "Gorloff the Great."
"Really?" Ivy bent to examine the trinkets on the table more closely. There was an oil lamp that reminded her of the one that housed Aladdin's genie, and a handful of coins who's likeness and monetary value were unfamiliar. Several partially rolled up parchments revealed coastlines Ivy was sure she'd never seen.
"Leave them maps," Hagrid instructed. "I'm takin' 'em wi' me."
Ivy nodded, grinning when her eyes lit on a miniature tableau that rested in the center of the table. She reached for it, picking it up and cradling it in her hands.
"I remember this," she murmured, her fingers trailing across its pieces. "Estonehenge."
"Dance of The Giants," Hagrid corrected. "I like that name better."
That was the title engraved in gold at the base of the tiny replica. She liked to think it was one of the things that had helped pull Hagrid out of a deep depression after Rita Skeeter's horrible lies about him had appeared in the Daily Prophet.
She set the replica of Stonehenge on a shelf, then turned around, just in time to catch Hagrid openly watching her, his beetle black eyes shining bright. She crossed to the table and pushed out a chair, climbing up to stand in its seat so she could look him in the eye. There were so many thoughts and emotions coursing through her, but when she looked at him she found she couldn't say a word. As they studied each other, she realized she didn't have to. Everything she wanted to tell him was written in her eyes. Hagrid finally dropped his gaze and turned, picking up a box he'd set on the mantle.
"This is fer you, Ivy," he said in a voice that was full of emotion. "It belonged to my mum."
She opened the box, lifting up a well worn piece of oiled parchment to reveal a heavy gold bracelet. Ivy put the box on the table, pulling the bracelet out and weighing it in her hand. There was something engraved on it, inside and out, in a language Ivy couldn't interpret. She was about to slip it on her arm when Hagrid stopped her. He took the bracelet in his own hand, pressing it briefly to his lips, then he slipped it over her fist.
"It's a perfect fit," she announced, holding it up so she could examine it more closely.
"My dad gave it to my mum the day they got married," Hagrid went on, eyes losing their focus for a few seconds. "That's what this mess is about. I wanted ter find it before I went away."
"It's not just a bracelet is it?" Ivy murmured, realization of what the piece of jewelry on her arm really was flooding over her.
Hagrid shook his head and wiped at his eyes. "It's a... I mean... it was her..."
"Wedding ring?" Ivy's voice dropped to a whisper, but she had no trouble being heard in the silence that hung between them.
This time Hagrid nodded.
"She left it when she left us. My dad gave it ter me. Said I'd fin' somebody special someday ter give it to. Reckon I have. That is... if yeh'll agree ter wear it."
Ivy laughed out loud, tears spilling from her eyes and splashing down her cheeks even as she gave him her brightest smile. "Course I'll wear it," she said, leaning forward in her chair to kiss him. As their lips met Ivy's nose wrinkled. The smell of burning stew began to fill the little cottage.
"Dinner's burnin'," Hagrid turned to tend to the stewpot, but Ivy grabbed his collar and pulled him back.
"I've waited a very long time for this," she stated. "Just one more..."
Hagrid gave her an all-too-familiar grunt from the back of his throat and swept her up into his arms, his mouth descending on hers with relish. Then he planted more kisses on her jaw-line and neck, his moustache tickling as she buried her face in his hair. The look Hagrid gave her as she slid, weak-kneed, into her chair, challenged Ivy to ever again question his ability or desire to leave her breathless.
"Think I can save it," he said, reaching for an enormous set of potholders and pulling the stewpot out of the fire. He bent to retrieve a pan of golden brown biscuits from his stove, then ladled out two bowls of stew. Fang rose from his place by the back door as the aroma from the pot filled the cabin. He padded across the room to sit at Ivy's feet, turning a pleading gaze in her direction.
"Oh... you're good," Ivy told him, fishing what looked to be a chicken's foot out of her bowl. She slipped it to the dog while Hagrid prepared them something to drink.
"Whadd'ya think eh the stew?" Hagrid asked, but Ivy couldn't answer. She was too busy downing a biscuit in hopes of putting out the fire suddenly alight in her mouth. She grabbed a goblet of gillywater out of his hands and took a gulp.
"Spicy," was the only word she could manage. Fortunately her mouth went numb after the third bite, and she managed to finish what was left in her bowl. When she looked down, Fang was gone, resuming his place by the door. The fowl foot lay untouched just under the table. Taking a napkin, she bent to scoop it up before Hagrid noticed.
"Thought yeh liked yer food on the spicy side, after that mess yeh cooked down the pub last summer."
Ivy made a face. "You hated that stuff," she reminded.
"Reckon I thought yeh were tryin' ter poison me, after the way I treated yeh New Year's Eve."
"You did sort of walk out on me that night...."
"That were yer fault," he insisted, leaning over to gather up the dirty dishes. "Yeh were tryin' ter put me unn'er some kind a spell. Wha' was I surposed ter do? Let yeh get away wi' it?"
Ivy grinned as she got up to help him wash the dishes. They stood side by side, shoulder to elbow. Hagrid washed while Ivy rinsed and dried.
After they'd set the kitchen to rights, they retreated to Hagrid's back stoop, enjoying each other's company while the evening sky darkened. Ivy spotted the very first star of the night and blew it a kiss.
"Wha's that about?" Hagrid asked, sitting down on the next-to-the-last stair. Ivy sat beside him on the top stair, so their conversation could continue face to face.
"Ermm," Ivy began, flashing him a sheepish grin. "That's the one I used to wish on. But I won't have to do that any more. My wish came true."
"Wha'd yeh wish for?"
Ivy studied her boots for a minute, then looked him in the eye. "I wished for you."
A long silence fell between them then, until Hagrid released a sigh, reaching over to catch her left arm. Ivy scooted closer so he could examine the gold band he'd slid over her wrist.
"What does it say?" she ventured quietly.
Hagrid gave a little laugh that bordered on sadness, but his grip on her hand tightened as he traced the runes on the ring with one great fingertip.
"It says 'Love Conquers All', in the language of the giants."
"You don't sound like you're convinced," Ivy said.
"It di'n't work fer my mum an' dad. Maybe I shouldn't a give it to yeh. Don' wanna jinx anythin'."
"Hagrid..." Ivy scolded. "I want you to give it to me because you believe what it says. Love conquers all. I mean.... It conquered hippogriff rides and dementors. It conquered the Vampire's Kiss."
"An' Rita Skeeter," Hagrid added to the list. "An' Olympe Maxime. It woulda conquered Buckbeak's execution, but the little bugger got away."
Ivy had to laugh. "Yes. Thank goodness Buckbeak got away." Her eyes widened as she remembered something else.
"It conquered the 'S' word."
Hagrid gave her a funny look.
"You know... the 'S' word. The one you told me not to use to describe my... lack of magical ability." She leaned over to whisper the word in his ear.
Hagrid grunted and pulled her into his arms, shaking a giant finger in her face. "Never say that word again. Not where I can hear. I know yeh got power. The power ter make my heart beat all funny. The power ter make me ferget ever'thin' I was thinkin'. The power ter get me runnin' in circles tryin' ter fin' that ring."
Ivy giggled, but the sound was cut short as his whiskery face came down on her own.
She clung to him fiercely, answering his kisses with a passion all her own. Tears pierced the back of her eyelids as one thick finger traced the line of her jaw, then slid gently down her neck. As his fingers lost themselves in her hair, she realized that in a matter of hours they would be going separate ways for the summer. She would have given anything to remain forever, right where she was.
Reclining in Hagrid's arms, Ivy once again turned a dreamy glance up toward the stars.
"Do you know which one of them is Saturn?" she asked, pointing toward the sky. "Mars is the red one... I think. It's just... there."
"Dunno, Ivy. Yeh'd have ter ask the centaurs."
She sat up, grinning. "It was Firenze who told me about the planets. He said that only star shine twinkles. Planets shine steady, and bright. And he told me that when Mars and Saturn align, soul mates have found each other. He said there'd be a big, bright light up in the sky."
Hagrid shook his head. "Don' see anythin' differ'nt than usual."
Ivy's brow furrowed. "But I thought..."
"Centaurs talk in riddles near as much as the Sphinx, Ivy. Yeh can't go by wha' they say."
Ivy tried to smile. "You're right. He must have been wrong. Because we're... we're soul mates and we've definitely found each other, haven't we?"
Hagrid nodded solemnly, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Reckon we have."
Ivy stood to her feet in an attempt to push away the feeling of foreboding that had crept into her soul. Hagrid was right about centaurs. They always spoke in riddles. And even Firenze himself had told her that some of the mysteries of the heavens concerned them, while others did not. She must have taken his announcement about Mars and Saturn farther than it had been meant to go.
"It's getting late," she said. "Are you all packed?" Before he could answer she had her hand on the back door latch. "I can help you clean up before you leave. You wouldn't want to come home to a messy house."
Hagrid heaved himself to his feet, and Ivy's fears were dispersed as she felt his heavy hand fall on her shoulder.
Ivy turned to face him, back against the door. She swallowed hard past the lump that rose in her throat.
"Won't be long, and you'll be home, and I'll be back in Hogsmeade. Just a couple months. It'll go by fast. Won't it?"
Hagrid didn't answer. He seemed content to tower over her, to study her face with a dreamy expression in his eyes that Ivy'd seen before. He'd had that look when he stood beside Olympe Maxime in Rose's pub. It surfaced every time he mentioned his hatchling dragon, Norbert. But now it was meant for Ivy alone, and she pinched herself, just to be sure she wasn't dreaming.
Hagrid lowered his head and kissed her, only this time Ivy sensed a difference. This time his mouth came down on hers to possess it. This time his tongue made promises that left Ivy breathlessly demanding he keep them. Her hands caught fistfuls of his shirtsleeves and she rose up on tiptoes, struggling for a vantage point that was higher and closer. Finally, in answer to her soft whine of frustration, the half-giant picked her up and held her in his arms like a child.
"When, Ivy?" Hagrid asked hoarsely. "When yeh wanna do this?"
The hands that had previously busied themselves exploring the tangles of his hair dropped to her lap, and she stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Do what?" she managed, suddenly trembling.
"I wan' yeh ter marry me," he reminded. "Tha's why I gave yeh Mum's ring."
The harder Ivy struggled to speak, the more words eluded her. When it became obvious that she didn't have an answer, Hagrid spoke again, in a deep, husky voice.
"Yeh knew that when yeh took it, didn' yeh?"
She nodded, slowly recovering as she realized that what she'd thought he'd been pressing for and what he'd really meant were not the same.
"Sum... sum.... Summer..." she faltered. "Summer is always a nice time for... weddings. We could get married in the pumpkin patch."
"It'd have ter wait till fall, then. Tha's when the punkin patch is prettiest."
Ivy shuddered, realizing that if she didn't stop pinching herself soon, she'd be covered with bruises.
"Fall, then," she managed a smile. "Next fall, when the leaves start turning. Maybe... October?"
"But I met yeh in June."
That brought a gasp of surprise from Ivy.
"You remember?"
"How could I ferget I... I... Ivy?"
He leaned down to set her back on her feet. For a moment she clung to him, like a child not quite ready to leave a parent's arms, then her feet reluctantly met the wood of Hagrid's back step.
"I love you, Hagrid," she murmured. Just for good measure, she tweaked a place on her forearm, as for the very first time, he returned the endearment.
"I love you, too."
Ivy ducked her head to save Hagrid from seeing the grimace of pain that gripped her features. That last pinch would most definitely leave its mark by morning.
"An' I wish it was you goin' wi' me, instead of Maxime."
Ivy grinned. "You know Maxime will be far more persuasive with giants."
"Maybe wi' them." Hagrid's eyes sparkled.
"You're not making this any easier, you know." She reached for the door handle. "And we still have packing to do. Didn't you tell me the Beauxbatons carriage is leaving at dawn?"
"It'll wait."
He scooped her up in his arms again and pulled open the door, crossing the threshold to close it behind him with a kick of one massive boot. Looking around the cabin, it became evident that there was only one logical place for him to set her down amidst the jumble and clutter. Anticipation and not a little fear swept through her, turning her blood to fire, then ice, as he looked across the room to his bed. He stepped over a trunk and a crate full of Fang's stuffed critters, then sat down on the patchwork quilt. Ivy found herself in his lap, straddling his knees. Staring into a face that had become so much a part of her being that she ached for him.
Hagrid's hands had always fascinated Ivy. She loved nothing more that to watch them swallow up her own, or lean into their embrace as he cradled her head in his palm. But as she leaned against him, and those huge hands began to make her his own, Ivy fell even farther under their spell. She pulled his left hand into her lap, pressing both of her hands into the cup of his palm, feeling the hard calluses, the quiet strength. Knowing that these were the only hands she ever wanted touching her body. She brought the hand she was holding up to her lips, planting kisses on each knuckle, each fingertip, until Hagrid shuddered, cupping her chin in his palm and bringing her face to his.
"Ivy," Hagrid whispered.
"Hagrid," she returned.
Their lips met with bruising passion, as Ivy fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to be as close to him as possible, to feel his heart beat under her hands, to explore the parts of him she'd never seen. She'd managed to undo four big brown buttons and was plunging her arms inside the fabric, pressing her cheek against the warmth of his chest, when she heard faint voices from somewhere outside. They got louder even as she struggled to ignore them, preferring to press her lips against the soft patch of gray in the center of his chest. Her head rose and fell ever so gently with the rhythm of his quickening heartbeat, as her hands slid up and over his shoulders.
One of Hagrid's hands slipped down her back, his fingers kneading her skin, gently, at first. His grip strengthened as the front door exploded with a frantic pounding of more than one fist. A soft groan of disappointment escaped Ivy's lips as the thumb of his other hand smoothed over the fabric of her blouse.
She pressed her forehead against him for one last moment, as she recognized the voices.
"It's Harry," she said. "And Ron Weasley."
Hagrid shook himself and Ivy watched as a bit of the glazed look left his eyes.
"I hear Hermione, too," Ivy spoke with a ragged sigh of regret. She reached out with trembling fingers to smooth the line where his beard sprouted on his cheek. "They've come to see you off properly. They're leaving, too, this afternoon."
Blinking a few times, he set Ivy on her feet. Then he stood up and re-buttoned, shaking himself as he lumbered to the door. A torrent of voices and bodies tumbled inside as it opened, their rush only stopped by Hagrid's great frame.
"We thought we'd missed you," Ron said, steadying himself on Hagrid's arm.
"You said the Beauxbatons carriage leaves at dawn, and it's not where it was..." added Hermione, who threw her arms around him as far as they could go.
"We didn't want to leave without saying goodbye." This last came from Harry, who stood silhouetted in the doorway. Ivy was surprised to see how much the sky had lightened.
"Hey, Ivy," Harry added, stepping over the threshold.
"Harry," she returned, hoping that the dim light of daybreak was sufficient to hide the furious blush creeping along her cheekbones.
Harry looked different from when they'd first met on the back steps of the Three Broomsticks. He stood taller, and thinner, but that was not the only visible difference. His boyish grin had faded, and the mischievous light had gone out of his eyes. Ivy's first impulse was to rush over and pull him into her arms, but she held back.
The room had gone decidedly quiet when the younger set realized that Hagrid was not alone in his cottage. Hermione took a few steps around the room, surveyed the mess, then looked up at Hagrid.
"Did you find the... ummm... thing you were looking for?" she asked, glancing in Ivy's direction.
Hagrid nodded, closing the front door and crossing the room to stand at Ivy's side. He took her left hand in his right, raising it up so they could see the gold band decorating Ivy's wrist.
"What thing?" Ron asked, pulling out a chair. He turned to sit down, but stopped as the collection on the table grabbed his attention.
"Summat that belonged to my mum," Hagrid said softly, and for the first time Ivy realized that she was not the only person he'd miss when he left Hogwarts.
"That's it?" Harry asked, as Hermione pushed past them to make a pot of tea.
A smile managed to find its way to Harry's face as Hagrid nodded and threw him a wink.
"Hold on," Ron complained, letting a handful of foreign coins trickle through his fingers. He looked from Hagrid to Ivy. "Would somebody like to fill me in? What's going on around here?"
"Hagrid gave Ivy a ring," Hermione explained matter-of-factly.
"Took you long enough," Harry added. He stacked some papers and sat down across the table from Ron.
"Dumbledore asked Ivy ter teach Muggle Studies year after next, too. We're gettin' married nex' October."
"Or June," Ivy reminded, reaching out to grasp his hand.
"You mean..." Ron sputtered. "You..." he pointed to Ivy. "And you..." his finger wagged toward Hagrid. "Together. You're...."
Hermione slammed a tea cup down in front of him and Ivy was sure she heard the word "rude" come out of the younger girl's mouth.
Hagrid sighed heavily and wrapped him hands around his belt. "Since yer all here, now, maybe yeh can help me straighten up this mess b'fore I go."
"Good idea," Ron muttered as Hermione crossed the room to congratulate Hagrid and Ivy.
In no time at all, various items began floating through the air in different directions. Hagrid gave the orders as to what went where, and soon three trunks were full to overflowing. One Hagrid would take with him on his trip, one would be packed away, and the last held everything that Hagrid thought Fang would need while he spent the summer with Ivy.
"Yeh got his piller an' 'is toys. An' there's a recipe for rock cakes in there, too. Yeh can play 'im a song on this flute if he gets ter pinin' fer me.
Ivy's brow furrowed as she accepted the wooden instrument. "You're not taking your flute?"
"Fang'll need it more'n me."
"But I don't play...."
"It's a magic flute, Ivy," Hagrid told her. "Yeh jus' put yer lips to it an' blow."
"Hagrid," Harry spoke up. He pointed out the window. "Professor Dumbledore's coming. With Madam Maxime."
Ivy felt her heart constrict in her chest as she reached for Hagrid's arm. She stared at him, wide-eyed at the realization that it was time for him to go.
"We'll get the door," Hermione said, pushing Ron forward. He was still staring from Ivy to Hagrid, hard put to believe they were together.
"Now who's being rude?" he managed, startled by Hermione's sudden move.
"Me?" she muttered. "Rude? The least you could do is remember to close your mouth when you stare."
"I don't think they noticed," Ron said, reaching to open the door. Hermione nodded, pulling a handkerchief out of the sleeve of her robe.
"Oh, not already," Ron complained. He and Hermione greeted Maxime and Dumbledore while Hagrid, Ivy and Harry each struggled with their own goodbyes.
"Don' think I can do this," Hagrid muttered. He nodded briefly to Professor Dumbledore, then turned to take Fang's trunk. Shouldering open the back door, he set the trunk on the step, pulling out a massive hanky of his own. Seeing him wiping his eyes made Ivy tear up as well. She turned to speak to Professor Dumbledore and found that she could not. All the words in her heart couldn't seem to make it past the lump in her throat.
"Ah... Ms Ollivander. I thought I might find you here," the headmaster began. "You've met the Beauxbatons Headmistress, have you not?"
The giantess standing in front of her began to swim a little as Ivy's legs turned to rubber. A strange vibrating hum had taken over her ears. To her own amazement, she actually managed a lame sort of curtsy in Maxime's direction.
"Zo zis is zee leetle one who has stolen Hagrid's heart?" Maxime purred. Her cheerfulness seemed out of place, until Ivy remembered that the giantess was heading home. It made sense that she'd be glad to get the trip under way.
"I will take exzellent care of him," Maxime promised, smiling. She took Ivy's hand in her own, patting it gently. Ivy allowed this for a moment, staring openly at the jewels on Maxime's oversized hands. Then she pulled away. There was only one set of giant hands she wanted embracing her own. She glanced around the room for Hagrid and found him kneeling in front of the fireplace, his boarhound's head on one knee.
"Yeh be good fer Ivy," Hagrid told Fang, ruffling the top of his head. "I don' want no letters sayin' yeh bin a bad dog."
"He'll be great," Ivy assured him, reaching out to rest her hand on his own. "But I'll write you letters anyway."
"Yeh better." Hagrid informed, standing to his feet. "All a yeh. I'm 'spectin' letters from all a yeh this summer. An' don' go lettin' that cousin a yers get yeh down, Harry. Summer'll be over quick as a wink. An' yeh might have a little extra company in Surrey this year."
Professor Dumbledore stepped forward then. "I know that goodbyes are never easy, but it is time for the Beauxbaton carriage to depart. Hagrid... if you please."
Hagrid heaved a great sigh and beckoned his three young friends forward. "Reckon it's time ter go."
The rest of his departure was a blur to Ivy, except for his last, bone crushing embrace. He held her so tight that her feet lifted off the ground. But Ivy didn't notice. She was too busy trying to memorize the scratchy-soft feel of his moustache on her face and the tender promise on his lips as one more time they took possession of her own.
"I'll be back ter make yeh mine, Ivy Ollivander," he told her, poking his index finger into her chest and giving a watery grin. "Take care a yerself. An' Harry."
"I will." Ivy nodded, and then reached behind her neck, unfastening the hippogriff necklace he'd given her on her first Christmas at Hogsmeade. "Take this with you," she said, standing on tiptoes to slip it into the pocket over his heart. "To remind you that I love you."
He covered his heart, the necklace and her hand with a hand of his own. "Yeh think I'll ferget that?" Dropping her hand, he leaned over to whisper in her ear. "An' I won't ferget where we were before the kids came over, either. I expect ter pick up right there when I get back."
She laughed, enjoying the soft caress of his moustache on her earlobe.
"Promise?" she teased him.
"I swear," came his husky-voiced reply.
Giving her a wink, he turned to load his trunk onto the carriage. Then he put one hand on the front wheel, turning to look at them all one more time. Harry, Ron and Hermione surged forward and Hagrid dropped to one knee to embrace all three of them at once.
"Don' ferget what I said about letters," he commanded, wiping away the tears that formed at the corners of his eyes. "I'll be home b'fore yeh get back."
He mounted the carriage, sitting up front, where the driver would have been, had the Beauxbatons carriage needed a driver. He gave them a wave as the carriage lurched forward, pulled by Maxime's massive flying horses, and Ivy loved him all the more for not climbing in beside the giantess.
A chorus of "byes" followed the carriage as the horses lifted it off the ground and away from the castle. Then Hagrid was gone. Ivy looked around, suddenly feeling alone and out of place. She had yet to pack for her own trip, and the sun warming the back of her neck reminded her that she didn't have much time.
She lifted a hand toward Harry and the others, and then turned toward Hogsmeade, this time choosing to skirt Hagrid's hut and follow the path through the woods.
"Come on Fang," she called out to the boarhound, who was walking across the grounds, head down and just as dejected as she was. His tail wagged half-heartedly as he changed directions to follow her toward the hut. She picked out his pillow and the flute, pocketed the recipe for rock cakes, then pushed the trunk back inside. Hagrid had packed it so full that it was impossible for her to carry everything back to Hogsmeade.
Alone inside, Ivy found herself drawn to the familiar surroundings. Her hands caressed the wooden chairs. Her fingertips grazed the top of the freshly scrubbed table. The tea pot had been put back in its cupboard, and the fireplace was growing cold, but Hagrid's essence still lingered. Sitting down on his bed, Ivy pulled back the patchwork quilt and buried her face in his pillow. Stretching out, she pulled the other pillow close and embraced it, but no matter how hard she tried to pretend it was Hagrid, her imagined companion fell far short of the real thing.
Sitting up, she looked around for some little trinket to take with her. Something she could hold close, through all the nights she'd spend alone. His pillow was too big, although she was drawn to its softness and scent. He'd taken his crossbow, and his moleskin overcoat was too heavy to drag around all summer. Finally her eyes fell upon a nightshirt hanging on a hook by his headboard. She reached for it, bunching it up and bringing it to her face. It still smelled like Hagrid. A slow smile spread across her face. This was exactly what she'd been looking for.
Fang whined at the bedside, and Ivy patted the spot beside her, inviting him up. The two of them stretched out, promptly falling asleep there, and the sun rode high in the sky before they woke up.
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"Oh! Fang," Ivy whined, jumping to her feet. Someone was at the door, and she could hear the whistle of the Hogwarts' Express announcing its departure any minute.
"We're going to miss the train!"
She flung open the door, just as surprised to see Madam Rosmerta in Hagrid's front step as Rose was to see her.
"Good," Rose exclaimed. "Then you are here. I couldn't find you anywhere." She took in her friend's sleepy appearance, the nightshirt still wrapped possessively in her arms, and gave Ivy an appraising look.
"Up all night, were you?" she asked slyly as she pushed a suitcase into Ivy's hands.
"Yes," Ivy retorted. "But not for what you think." Her face betrayed her by turning crimson as she remembered how close she and Hagrid had gotten to what Rose was probably thinking.
Rose grinned as she surveyed Ivy with raised eyebrows. "Maybe next time," she grinned, grabbing Ivy's hand and dragging her toward the train station. "Right now you've got about five minutes before that train leaves."
"You packed for me?" Ivy wondered out loud.
"Good thing I did," Rose countered as they began to run. "It'd take days to get to Surrey from here on that motor scooter of yours."
Ivy laughed. Being dragged about by her best friend helped to dissipate some of the sadness of being separated from Hagrid.
"Good luck, and be careful," Rose said, as they arrived at the station. Most of the students from Hogwarts had already boarded. Pushing Ivy into the first car, Rosie handed her two tickets. One was for her trip to King's Cross Station, the other to change trains in London for one going to Surrey.
"How'll I find Little Whinging?" Ivy asked from the door.
"Dumbledore's got a cab waiting for you in Surrey. It'll take you straight to the house he rented. Write as soon as you get there! He said there's an owl in the attic..."
The train lurched to life, and suddenly Ivy was moving away from Rosmerta, Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.
"Fang!" she hollered. The dog ran forward and leapt onto the train, nearly toppling Ivy.
"Love you, Rosie!" Ivy called as she regained her balance. She hung out the doorway, waving madly to her friend, as the train began to pick up speed. Ivy could hear the subdued chattering of childish voices from farther down the car.
"Well," she murmured to Fang. "That's it then. We're off to Surrey for the summer." The boarhound whined, ill at ease with the rocking motion of the train.
"All right. Come sit with me." Ivy patted the plush seat beside her. Fang scrambled onto the seat and curled up beside Ivy. Together they watched Hogsmeade get smaller and smaller. Fang whined again, and Ivy stroked his head.
"I know exactly how you feel," she whispered. "But we'll be home soon." And at that moment she couldn't decide which place she'd rather call home; her ivy covered house in Hogsmeade, or her place in Hagrid's arms.
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