My Silver Lining by First Aid Kit

I don't want to wait anymore

I'm tired of looking for answers

Take me some place where there's music and there's laughter

BOOK ONE : COLD, BRILLIANT, AND UTTERLY STILL

August 25th, 1972

Ivy Selwyn stood beside her parents amongst the colourful, decorative shops that made up Diagon Alley. Lingering before a narrow, shabby storefront, she hesitantly observed the peeling, golden letters above the equally ramshackle door, which read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. She didn't think much of its appearance despite its claim to have been in business even Before Circe.

"Are you sure," she began doubtfully as her parents headed for the door. "Ollivander is the best wandmaker?"

"Hush," her mother chided as they meandered into the store, which was decidedly cluttered and seemingly disorganised with its thousands of wand boxes.

Approaching a single, solitary chair atop which an elderly wizard was perched, Ivy was mildly concerned that they were related, as they both had silver eyes and white hair. After a moment of consideration, however, she realised he was just old.

"Avdima Selwyn née Rowle," Ollivander stood with a slightly bug eyed stare. "9 inches with yew and dragon heartstring… Unyielding, if I remember correctly, which I'm certain I do. And Rhaen Selwyn - 9¾ inches, made with elm wood and unicorn hair. Quite brittle… Who might you be?"

"Ivy Selwyn," she lifted her chin.

"Indeed," the wandmaker withdrew a measuring tape from his pocket. "You have a sister, don't you? Extend your wand arm for me if you would."

"Hazel," she looked to her parents and they shook their heads, silently telling her to lie. "She couldn't come because she's sick."

"I'm sure I'll see her in due time," Ollivander held out the tape, which magically extended itself to capture her measurements. "Wait here one moment."

He vanished for no longer than a second, returning from the precariously shelved boxes to hand her wands. None seemed to agree with her, as he took several back just as her fingers grazed the fine woods. The only wand she was allowed to fully grasp was 11-inches long. Upon making contact, a warm sensation burst through her hand and silver and blue sparks shot from the tip.

"Hazel, eh? Wonderful wood, that," the old wizard smiled. "It's known to absorb negative energy and disperse it at random so do be careful in times of stress… But that wand should have the unique ability to detect water underground. You'll know if it emits silvery, tear-shaped puffs of smoke when passing over concealed springs and wells. Supple with a dragon heartstring core, yes, this is quite an exemplary fit."

"Thank you," she said earnestly as her parents forked over their Galleons.

Retreating back into the whirlwind that was Diagon Alley, her parents endured a healthy amount of begging before conceding to let her explore Diagon Alley on her own, with the stipulation that she meet them at Flourish and Blotts within the hour.

Pleasantly shocked that her parents were allowing her to wander about unaccompanied since they never let Hazel do so, Ivy's step was energised as she wandered over to Broomstix.

Outside the shop, two younger children were already ogling the display, their noses and fingers pressed up against the glass. Disgusted by the wet halos of breath left on the surface, Ivy loitered a metre away, though she stared at the elegant brooms with equal enthrallment, mind filled with all sorts of wild daydreams about trying out for a Hogwarts Quidditch team and beating around bludgers as applause boomed in her ears.

"Gross, right?"

Yanked out of her vision, she looked left to find a girl with shoulder-length golden hair and hazel eyes. She was shorter than Ivy, though likely around the same age.

"Do you mean the kids getting their germs all over the display?" Ivy asked loudly.

The children looked back at her, eyes widening as they beheld an older, much taller, glaring girl. Removing their sticky fingers from the glass, they scurried off into the crowd, casting frightened looks over their shoulders.

"That's exactly what I meant," the girl snickered, pulling a silk handkerchief from her pocket and using it to wipe the window. "I'm Theya, by the way. Theya Greengrass."

"Ivy Selwyn."

It was a relief to encounter another pureblood, as Ivy knew precisely the kind of reaction her parents would have if she was caught associating with someone of lesser status. Over the summer, she'd been forced to memorise the surnames found on the Sacred Twenty-Eight so she could quickly know who she was allowed to spend time with.

"I hope you're not putting that back in your pocket," Ivy added.

"'Course not," the girl tossed the fabric in a nearby waste bin. "Do you go to Hogwarts?"

"It'll be my first year."

While she was dying to leave Selwyn Estate behind, she was secretly rather worried about her height. Her mother had been the tallest in her year, every year until her last, at which point her father overtook her by three centimetres.

"Mine too," Theya headed inside Broomstix, indicating for Ivy to follow, which she did. "Just wish I had a cousin or something going to Hogwarts as well; seems like it'd be embarrassing to sit alone on the train."

"I'll sit with you," Ivy stopped amid the loud throng of bustling shoppers to stare wide-eyed at a polished Nimbus 1700.

"Great," her eyes went wide upon also seeing the carved oak broom. "This is wicked compared to those old Cleansweeps back there! My parents said if I make a Quidditch team they'll get me any broom I want to replace my ratty old Comet 290."

"I'm not allowed to fly," Ivy sighed longingly. "My mother says ladies are only supposed to use the Floo and Disapparition."

"Bollocks to that."

Nodding sulkily, she had to admit that she'd never understood Avdima and Rhaen's rule; Hazel was encouraged to fly and was never supervised when she did so. Ivy suspected that the double standard had to do with the word Squib, which was something her parents had begun whispering in disgust. It was also a word that she was strictly banned from repeating.

"Say, wanna go to Florean Fortescue's?" Theya pulled a handful of shiny coins from her pocket. "My parents gave me a few Galleons; we can get massive sundaes with extra sprinkles."

"How long do you think it'll take?" Ivy wrung her wrists anxiously. "I have to meet my parents soon."

"Don't worry," she rolled her eyes and pulled her in the direction of the ice cream parlour. "If I make you late, you'll get to experience my powers of persuasion."

September 1st, 1972

Nervous energy coursed through Ivy as she stood on Platform 9¾. She felt like she was riding a really big sugar high, similar to the one she'd gotten in Diagon Alley before she threw up from eating too much ice cream. Her parents had been none too pleased to find her hurling in an alleyway while the Greengrass girl did the same nearby.

"The train's going to leave soon," she tried not to let impatience seep into her tone.

"Quiet," Avdima snapped as she adjusted the collar of Ivy's dress, trying to work it into perfection. "I'm not about to send my firstborn off to school looking like a Muggle street urchin."

Not wanting to get whacked upside the head for huffing, she held in an annoyed sigh.

Hazel's sweaty hand was holding tight to her's and although she wanted to shake it off, she knew the ten-year-old would probably start crying. The last thing she needed -on top of her mother's incessant fussing- was her little sister making a scene.

After another moment or two, Avdima released her.

Turning to hug Hazel, who was only slightly shorter than her, she watched her mother join her father, who was standing stoically a metre away.

"Don't leave me," her sister begged through a face full of white hair that mingled in with her ashy locks. "This is the first time I've left the Estate in months. Take me with you."

"You know I can't," Ivy whispered with a worried glance at their parents, who were watching like vultures.

"Just wait until the train starts to leave," she sniffled. "You can hold the door and I'll jump on!"

"Shush!" Ivy hissed as their father's blue eyes narrowed.

"Please," she begged quietly.

"I have to go," she pulled away to kiss her on the forehead. "Just behave and you'll be fine."

"But-"

"No," Ivy huffed irritably.

Avdima beckoned them by snapping her fingers.

Moving to stand before her mother with Hazel lingering behind to wipe her eyes, she wanted to point out that the last of the stragglers were boarding the train, but her desire to not get pinched was stronger.

"Don't you dare," Avdima told her sternly. "Come back a Hufflepuff. Now, off you go."

Ivy didn't spare a second.

Grabbing hold of her trunk and caged barn owl, Fernando, she pushed through the remaining families, who were shuffling ever closer to the train. Children stuck their heads out the windows, giving final farewells as she searched for an entrance to the train.

Spotting one nearby, she hurried aboard.

Despite the Hogwarts Express being pure chaos, or perhaps because of it, a relieved smile wandered over her features. Squeezing past the rowdy students, she avoided the compartments full of glaring teenagers who clearly did not want her joining them.

Focused on getting to a window so she could wave to Hazel, she barged into the first non-hostile compartment she found. Giving a polite, albeit quick, apology to the two occupants, she paid their responses little mind. Shoving her trunk overhead as the train began to move, she hurried to the window.

Undoing the latch, she pushed it open and stuck her head into the open air to frantically wave at her little sister. As she pulled away from the station, wind picked up in her hair, and Ivy watched Hazel run alongside the train, black ribbons billowing behind her as she cried. She waved until the wind began thrashing her about, at which point she ducked back into the compartment and shut the window.

Taking stock of her companions, she found them to be nearly identical, both having shaggy black hair and aristocratic features. The main difference she spotted between the two was that the seemingly older, and indeed taller one, had grey eyes. He watched her with an amused expression, while the brown-eyed one only spared her a quick glance, as he appeared to be invested in his book.

"And you are…?" The grey-eyed one asked.

"Sorry, I'm Ivy Selwyn." She ensured her apology sounded more genuine than it was, before matching his tone. "And you are…?"

"Sirius Black," he grinned, seeming to appreciate the reciprocated sass. "That's my brother, Regulus."

Recognizing their surname from the Sacred Twenty-Eight, she could hardly believe her luck.

"Nice to meet you," Ivy said.

Regulus opened his mouth to say something, but Sirius cut him off. "What House are you in?"

"Uh," she watched Regulus scowl at his book. "I dunno, this is my first year. Most of my family was in Ravenclaw, but I don't think my parents care as long as I'm not a Hufflepuff."

"You're freakishly tall for a first year," Sirius laughed.

Regulus visibly winced while Ivy bristled, wishing she'd chosen a compartment more carefully.

"Anyway," he said flippantly. "Who cares what your parents think? What House do you want to be in?"

"I-" She paused, never having thought about it before. "Maybe Ravenclaw. Or Slytherin, I like snakes."

"I don't," Sirius said bluntly. "Slytherins are the worst."

"Why?"

"They're a bunch of haughty tossers. Luckily for Reg, here, I think he's gonna join me in Gryffindor. The best House." He elbowed his brother. "Right, Reg?"

Regulus shrugged without looking up from his book.

When the compartment door slammed open, both Ivy and Regulus jumped.

"Sirius, come quick!" A head of atrociously messy black hair poked inside. "I found Snivellus!"

Sirius leapt out of his seat and raced to the corridor, vanishing around the corner with an excited whoop. The boy whose hair stuck up in all directions gave Ivy and Regulus a lopsided grin before running after him.

Frazzled, she closed the door they'd left open before mayhem could rear its ugly, messy-haired head again.

"Your brother," she said disdainfully, retaking her seat across from the boy. "Doesn't have very good manners."

"I know," he closed his book and set it aside, looking embarrassed. "Try living with him."

"No thanks."

"You're better for it, believe me."

"He's always like that, then?"

"Worse when he's been eating licorice wands," Regulus laughed nervously. "Something about them gets him all riled up."

Ivy giggled. "By the way, what's a Snivellus?"

"Far as I can tell, something greasy."

"Ew," she wrinkled her nose. "Who was that with your brother? Someone needs to tell him what a comb is and how to use it. My mother would never let me out of the Estate looking like that."

"That was James Potter, he hangs around with Sirius a lot." He eyed her. "Maybe you should be in Ravenclaw, you seem curious enough."

"Oh," she deflated.

Her parents had told her to learn everything and anything she could whilst at Hogwarts, but she was beginning to get the impression that she wasn't supposed to do so on the train.

"Nothing wrong with Ravenclaw," he said assuredly. "Or Slytherin, despite what Sirius would like you to believe. He's like most Gryffindors; annoying and ill-mannered."

Based on his description, and the apparent accuracy of it, Ivy decided it was in her best interest to avoid Gryffindors.

"What House do you want to be in?" She tilted her head.

"Slytherin, like my whole family. Except for Sirius, obviously."

"Known for their cunning and ambition."

"Don't forget cleverness," he puffed out his chest a little. "Determination, and resourcefulness."

"What's the difference, then, between Slytherin and Ravenclaw?"

Regulus paused as the train jostled around a curve. "Ravenclaws gather information to have it. Slytherins gather information to use it."

Hearing a knock at the door, she turned to find Theya on the other side of the glass, looking a bit rumpled but waving eagerly.

"Your brother and his friend," Ivy smirked. "Could learn a thing or two about politeness from her."

"I don't think either of them have a well-behaved bone in their body."

Laughing, she motioned for Theya to join them.

The golden-haired witch pulled the door open with a quick hello and bustled inside. Once through with stowing away her trunk and setting aside her owl, she breathlessly flopped onto the seat beside Ivy and looked over Regulus with a frown.

"You look an awful lot like the boy who knocked me over a minute ago," Theya drawled.

"That was his brother," Ivy explained. "He's a little…"

"Bit of a git," Regulus finished. "How about I get us all chocolate frogs and we call it even?"

"Make it sugar quills," Ivy countered. "And you have a deal."

"I was going to suggest unlimited access to your Gringotts vault," Theya grinned. "But sweets work too."

By the time Ivy was walking up to the castle, she'd already had more fun in a few hours than in eleven years at Selwyn Estate. The entire train ride had been spent chatting with Regulus and Theya, both of whom were clamouring to be in Slytherin, which set her own mind firmly on the House. In fact, the only thing that would've made walking through the giant wooden doors of the magnificent castle better, was if Hazel had been with her.

Walking between her newfound friends, they entered the Great Hall and strode between four massive tables.

When she looked up, her jaw dropped. Thousands upon thousands of lit candles floated overhead and the space above looked exquisitely like the night sky, to the point that she momentarily pondered whether there was a hole in the ceiling. She only looked down again when she knocked into a girl who had halted.

The first year fixed her narrowed dark eyes on Ivy, giving her a dirty look.

Sticking her nose in the air, she listened impatiently to the Sorting ceremony's beginnings.

Fortunately or unfortunately, she was tall enough to see over everyone and had a clear view of the singing Sorting Hat. It sat on a raggedly worn stool, spouting boring and well-known information about the Houses and their founders.

When the song finished, a witch appeared beside the Hat, clothed in crimson robes. She was old, with dark hair and a no-nonsense look on her face. Only when Regulus whispered that the woman was Professor McGonagall did she even notice the giant table behind the Sorting Hat where the staff sat.

McGonagall began the Sorting alphabetically and Ivy paid little attention to who was placed where, except when Regulus and Theya were both put into Slytherin. By the time the Professor called her name, she was the only first year left aside from the girl she'd bumped into earlier.

Walking up to the stool, she tried to ignore the eyes on her, but thanks to her nervousness, she sat herself clumsily, causing a few students to laugh.

When the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, it dropped right over her eyes.

"Well, well," a voice in her ear startled her. "You're a complicated one… Bright and curious, certainly. Cunning and resourceful as well, I see, with great potential in that particular area… But then there's that pesky loyalty. Careful with that, be very careful with that. Hmm, what should I do with you?"

Ivy blinked in the darkness and waited, listening to its one-sided debate for a good three minutes. When the other students started murmuring, she realised that she was bordering on becoming a Hatstall and scowled.

"Put me in Slytherin," she whispered, simultaneously wondering if she was allowed to make demands.

"Mmm, but you don't want the attention of being a Hatstall," it said. "And seeing as your sister is a Squib, that may make things difficult for you…"

The Hat continued to argue, but Ivy didn't hear what it said.

There was that word again - that mysterious, worrisome word.

Squib.

Ivy was shocked that the Hat had said such a thing, as her parents had told her being magicless was even worse than being a magic thieflike the Mudbloods. More than shocked, she was horrified to hear her sister's identity confirmed.

Remembering her cousin who was cast out for being a blood traitor, a mental image of Hazel being tossed out in the rain became brazen in her mind. Ivy would quite literally take the secret to the grave. And if anyone, even her parents, threatened Hazel… It would be like fighting the sea.

"…But with that loyalty to your sister," the Hat continued. "And your willingness to tear down everything and everyone to protect only one individual… Better be… SLYTHERIN!"