Draco, Darling: Thanks so much for your reviews…I'm having a great time with it…and I really do know the ending, I promise J
Ivy's hair whipped excitedly around her face. She smiled a genuine smile as the energy around her built. Leaves flew everywhere, pulled toward the forming vortex. Students clutched desperately to any object they wished to keep from the wind tunnel the new student was creating, including themselves. She was lost. It was an amazing feeling. She had always liked charms, even had a gift for it. But, this was charms at its best. Controlling the forces of nature, bending them to her will, it was amazing. Her heart began to beat rapidly. Who would have thought it would take Hogwarts to introduce her to it. The wind grew in intensity.
"That is quite enough!" Professor Flitwick screamed, literally jumping up and down with anger. Ivy, broken out of her trance, lost the connection she had been feeding. Suddenly, the wind died. Students who had been suspended in the air from the vortex's force fell to the ground with a thud. One of these students was Draco Malfoy. Ivy looked at the professor and tried to suppress a giggle, unsuccessfully. "Miss Belladonnavich, I do not pretend to know what they have taught you at your former school. However, here at Hogwarts, students do listen to their professors and follow their instructions. Furthermore, we also require that students desist when asked. Do you understand?" His little eyes bore a hole into Ivy's forehead. She was used to this trick. Her face became stoic and honest, even apologetic.
"Perfectly, professor," she smiled sweetly, bringing her hand to her chest. Slowly, she dragged her fingertips over her breasts, drawing the robes over them tightly. "I do so humbly apologize for my actions, and hope that you will find it possible to overlook this incident as a bit of overexcitement on my part." Her voice fell as smoothly as honey on the charms professor.
"Of course, dear." He smiled at the red-head kindly. "Now class, Miss Belladonnavich completed a very successful vortex charm. While I do not expect you all to…" Ivy did not catch the rest of the lecture. She was lost in the afterglow of her spell. Her fingers still tingled warmly. She floated throughout the rest of the class, never truly listening to what the professor said.
The class was filing back into the castle for lunch when Draco caught Ivy's arm. "You bruised me, you know." He raised an eyebrow. Katarina in heaven, he's amazing. Involuntarily, her breath became shallow. Slowly, she felt her composure dissolve. In an instant of terror, she realized that her mind was completely blank. All she could concentrate on was his jaw line. It was angled sharply, strong, and amazing.
She looked down at her feet. She had to say something. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. "I'm…I'm sorry," she stammered out. Quickly, she turned and ran for the dormitory. Draco stared in bewildered amazement. How could this girl be so different? She was so collected in front of a professor, wielding sexuality and innocence into a single persona that any male would melt in front of. And yet, when it came to a student, him, specifically, she was as close to an idiot as one could get. It was amazing, and truly tiring to think about. So Draco didn't waste anymore time or energy on it. He located Crabbe and Goyle and gracefully sauntered off to the Great Hall.
Potions, Alona thought. Students actually have a difficult time with this? These lessons are rudimentary! All you do is throw the damn ingredients into the cauldron and stir. It's not exactly difficult. She sat removed from the other students in the back corner of the classroom. Severus was at the front of the classroom prattling on about Wolfsbane this and dragon scales that. It was really quite dull. Carelessly, she drew pictures on her parchment. Eager Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs sat near the front madly writing every nuance of Snape's ego down. She went back to her thoughts. She was really not concentrating on anything. It was relaxing, letting the mind drift. One never knew where it would end up. She was practicing the fine art of doing nothing when she suddenly noticed the entire room staring at her. Annoyed at the disturbance, she snapped, "What?" The student closest to her bit her lip and looked away embarrassed.
"Miss Karkaroff," Snape sang in his most arrogant voice. "You were just asked to explain why dragon scales are used in many protection potions. Care to give an intelligent answer?"
Alona laughed quietly. Two can play at this power game, she thought. "Actually, professor," she spat the word out. "While I do in fact know the reason, I think it is in the best interest of the class for them to discover the answer for themselves. Don't you think? I mean, new research points to self-discovery as the best method to truly assimilate information. Besides, it works for toddlers. It must work for the brightest witches and wizards in the United Kingdom." Her voice dripped with contempt. She was too happy with her answer to notice the collective cringe the class made. Snape just stared at her, jaw agape, fire brewing in his eyes. Silence consumed the classroom.
"Because of that remark, Miss Karkaroff, fifty points from Ravenclaw, and the homework will be two rolls of parchment on the magical properties of dragon scales." The class groaned. "Be sure to thank her for it." With that, he turned sharply on his heels and retreated into his office, his robe billowing out behind him. Alona gritted her teeth. This wasn't Durmstrang. Answers like that were only punished here. She was not going to be popular today.
As if to prove her revelation, the class filed out silently, casting malevolent glances at the new-comer. She sat, stoically receiving each glare until they had all left. With a sigh, she looked around the now empty room. Resigning herself to lunch alone, Alona gathered up her books and headed for the Great Hall.
The dormitory was thankfully quiet as Ivy entered. She had run blindly here, half embarrassed, half angry at the way she had let that boy get to her. She was a girl who had known men. She had used men, used them and abused them. It was an easy way to get what one wanted. The human psyche, be it witch, wizard, or muggle, was such an easy thing to control. All one had to do was find what drove the person, and use it. Emotions were very dangerous to the person who had them. And now, some boy was using that against her.
Me! Her thoughts raged. She threw herself onto her bed. Her world was spinning. It was impossible to know where she was or what she was even looking at. Oh, she had her guesses, but when the mind can't focus, it looses all perspectives until it is able to regain composure. She lost track of time. It was the first time she had ever felt her own raw emotions and it scared her. Slowly, with effort, she began to see clearly. The room stopped its twirling. She was aware that she was missing classes, but she did not care. She had embarrassed herself, her former school, and her parents. It was not to happen again.
Methodically, she began to undress. She needed to see the reminder. She needed that visual confirmation of who she was and where she came from. Gradually, she walked over to the full length mirror that adorned the wall near her bed. He curved figure, naked, reflected back. Cream colored skin warmed by the setting sun radiated. She looked out at the sinking ball, it was almost low enough. She stood in front of the mirror, waiting. Slowly, it began to creep. It started at the longest finger on her left hand, and slowly grew up her arm, a single flame. Coiling and twisting its way, it found each arc and bend as it made its way up to her breasts. It continued to grow, climbing onto the right side of her neck where it touched her hair, igniting it in hues of copper and red imagined only by the paintbrush of the fine art masters.
She stood regally, remembering her measuring. You, Ivy, will burn with a fire that can not be quenched. It needs no aid for it lives in you. It is your strength and your power. It bends for no person, save you. You may call upon it when you desire, for it will give you strength and power over all you see. All you must do is remember it. I give to you your mark. Stand free from the trappings of men as the sun is set ablaze and feel the kinship that fire brings you.
As the sun faded, Ivy looked at her left hand. Where the flame had so recently flourished, she was left with a tattoo of the finest design. As she moved, it leapt and sparkled as living fire does. She knew that it would slowly return to her core, but for now, it was her armor, her shield. She was strong now.
With the exception of Ivy, every student ate lunch in the Great Hall that day. There was the elevated level of excitement that always accompanies the first days back to school. How so and so had gotten off to a bad start with this professor, and how such and such was as lucky as lucky could get, and about the greatest conversational topic in the whole wizarding world, Quidditch.
At the Gryffindor table, a large group gathered around three students. Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter had become quite famous during their time at the school. As such, it was nearly impossible to spend the first day of school without talking to every Gryffindor less that five times during the lunch hour. Today, though, Harry's thoughts were somewhere else. Last night, he had dreamed of the moon, bright, silver and full. It was the most amazing dream, for that was all he dreamed of, yet he awoke happy, even blissful. And, he had not grown tired of the dream, he wanted it back.
Morning had been a cruel joke. His eyes kept wandering to the Ravenclaw table. They were not searching for Cho, however. Last year had cured him of any desire for her at all. Instead, they fell on the lone girl sitting at the end of the table. Her raven hair fell gently about her shoulders as she wrote on a piece of parchment. A lone lock of silver hair curled gracefully about her cheek. It was as silver as the moon had been. His thoughts were interrupted. "What do you think Harry?" Ron's excited face practically beamed with excitement.
"I'm sorry, what was that Ron?" Harry shook his head, trying to focus on his friends.
Ron did his best to look annoyed, but it wasn't working. "I said, 'Who do you think Ravenclaw will pick as their new seeker since Cho has dropped the team?'"
Harry's green eyes grew wide in surprise. "Cho's dropped the team?"
"Honestly Harry, where have you been all morning? It's all anyone can talk about!"
"I've just got a lot to think about, that's all." He paused for a moment to reflect on Ron's previous question. "Bloody hell, Ron, I don't know. Who in their house can?"
Ron's face beamed deviously, "No one, that's who! There's one team that's no match for Gryffindor and our Harry!" He slapped the boy on the back, knocking Harry's glasses off in the process.
"Honestly, you boys and your Quidditch." Hermione shook her head. "You'd think that life revolved around it." She gathered her books in preparation of heading for her next class.
"But Hermione," Ron grinned. "Didn't you get to that chapter in the book? It does." Huffing loudly, Hermione stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving a laughing Ron and Harry scrambling to catch up.
Thanks to the melodious nocturnal noises of her roommates, Ivy had been unable to sleep. So, finally at four in the morning, she tore her covers off and stalked noisily out of the room. She paused momentarily at the door, hoping that her fuss had roused one of the log-sawers out of their bliss. When she realized that they were still dead to the world, the red-head had huffed audibly and left the dorm, slamming the door behind her. She smiled self-contentedly. At least the effort made her feel better.
The common room was a welcome relief from the unending noise that swirled about her room. The air was warm and inviting. The embers from the fire still smoldered, casting emerald lined shadows around the dungeon. Green is a good color, she thought as she made her way to the plush velvet lounger. Much better that that blasted orange I had to put up with at Durmstrang. My hair simply shines against the green. One side of her mouth smirked. Effortlessly, she folded her legs in about her as she settled into the chair. The embers almost shimmered. It was entrancing. She found that if she unfocused her eyes, the undulating colors danced unendingly. She smiled. "It is beautiful, isn't it?" The voice was soft and husky, as if it wasn't used to being used at this time of the night. Ivy's eyes widened. She had thought she was alone. Carefully, she stared ahead. She did not want to know the source of the voice. If it was who she thought it was she would lose all control again. She would not allow herself to do that ever again, whatever the cost.
"Beautiful?" She asked sweetly. "Is a Slytherin capable of sensing beauty?" She smiled to the fire, her full red lips parting slightly.
"We are," came the voice again. "The dying of a fire, its energy spent, trying desperately to hold on to the vitality it once had, that is beautiful. The way the frost can sneak up on summer and encase a perfect rose for all of winter, that is beautiful. The way the moon fills this common room with dancing shadows, choosing when and where to shed its light, that is beautiful. Yes, a Slytherin can sense beauty." Ivy felt the wind ruffle her hair, revealing her tattoo. She closed her eyes and let the darkness sharpen her senses. She knew who the voice belonged to.
"I'm glad to hear that, Draco." She turned to the place where the voice had originated. No one was there.