Bones by MS MR
Kissing death and losing my breath
Midnight hours, cobble street passages
Full-grown savages, full-grown savages
September 1st, 1975
"You know they've started calling themselves the Marauders?" Severus sneered.
Ivy laughed into her goblet of pumpkin juice and nutmeg, glad that her fourth year had arrived. Mostly because she was sick of Selwyn Estate, but partly because every Holiday made her long for mealtime in the Great Hall.
"You can credit me with that name," Theya said around her dinner. "I mentioned to Evans how they're always marauding about and she parroted that back to Potter. Apparently, he took the words to heart."
Regulus glanced down the Slytherin table and lowered his voice. "You're friends with most of the student body and the majority of them aren't worth your time. If you keep talking to them, you're going to be labelled a blood traitor."
"I'm a future politician," she rolled her eyes. "I get a pass."
Regulus eyed her incredulously.
"Look," Theya set down her fork. "Upholding pureblood ideals is important, no one's arguing that. But it's important to have neutral parties. Or at least, parties that seem neutral. When it comes to war, people like me are vital because we can sweet talk both sides or become informants."
As usual, it was hard to argue with her.
"Besides," she continued around her food. "I could talk Potter into committing suicide if I wanted to, which is saying something considering how much he loves himself. I wouldn't have that power if I didn't put up a front of friendliness with him."
Ariadne frowned at her. "Talking with your mouth full is unladylike."
Theya showed her mouthful of food. "Thanks, Mum."
"You have terrible table manners," Ivy laughed. "You'll have to teach me sometime, that'd really get under Avdima's skin."
"Your mother's not so bad," Severus said.
Ivy exchanged a look with Regulus.
Severus didn't know that after her birthday the year before, Avdima had made a big fuss about the Snape family not being on the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Ivy had lied and said his family was from Russia but Avdima and Rhaen remained suspicious.
Personally, she didn't care about blood status anymore. Everything related to it was just about keeping up appearances, similar to how Theya played the field between pureblood society and everyone else for social advantage.
As Ariadne went on a stiff tirade of chastising Theya's impropriety, Ivy tuned out of the conversation, having heard the lecture many times before.
Darting a glance over at the Gryffindor table, she located Sirius. He was being a berk as usual and had something that looked like a fork stuck up his nose as he appeared to play out some bit with his mates.
Ivy's plan to corner him made her uneasy. It was a desperate move and she hated begging, but it had to be done for Regulus's sake. She couldn't leave him alone at Grimmauld Place without at least attempting to protect him first.
Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she turned to find Marlene. A glance down the Slytherin table told her that the Gryffindor was already being dealt dirty looks.
"Hey," Marlene sounded bored. "We need to plan our study schedule for this year."
Ivy shook her head in faux annoyance and excused herself from the table, scowling as she followed Marlene from the Great Hall. She kept up the agitated demeanour until they were quite alone, several corridors over near the empty Transfiguration classroom.
"What was your letter about?" Marlene's bored expression vanished as she leaned against the stone wall. "You said you needed to talk at my earliest convenience - which makes you sound like you're seventy, by the way."
"Well," Ivy cringed. "The thing is… I kissed Regulus."
"Ew," Marlene made a face.
"It wasn't ew at all, that's the problem," she huffed, frustrated in more ways than one. "I mean, he and I have a marriage contract so unless I can find a way to get out of that before I turn of age, I'll have to spend eternity with him anyway-"
"Like I said," she spoke assuredly. "We'll find a way to get you out of it."
"Right. That whole mess aside, I kissed him. Properly. Well, if you want the truth, rather improperly, which was actually quite fun-"
"Focus," she stifled laughter, trying and failing to look stern.
"Yes. So, I snogged him. But he has clippings of the Dark Lord all over his bedroom. I had dinner with his family over the summer and they mentioned that Regulus had already joined You-Know-Who's ranks. There's no way I can trust him with anything important after hearing that."
"You definitely can't date him," Marlene nodded. "I'd say to drop him entirely but I know how you feel about that."
Secretly, Regulus joining the Dark Lord only made her want to hold onto him tighter. Although she couldn't trust him, she knew he wasn't evil like Wilkes, Rosier, or Mulciber. Additionally, he could be an in for her with the Dark Lord; if she wanted to change anything, she would have to really commit.
Marlene was oblivious to her plan to become a Death Eater, as Ivy knew the Gryffindor would be livid if she didn't end their friendship outright. Even if she had her heart in the right place, Marlene would draw the line at her getting a Dark Mark.
"I won't drop Regulus," Ivy said. "I just need your help on how to tell him that we can't be together. Seeing how well things went on my birthday last year, it's probably best that I get some input beforehand."
"Yeah," Marlene snickered. "You made sure that conversation went tits up."
"Don't remind me. What should I say?"
"How do you feel about lying?"
Ivy gave her a look.
October 9th, 1975
Bouncing her leg nervously as she waited in the Library, Ivy sat alone at a table with an untouched textbook open in front of her. Spotting Regulus as he entered the Library, she pretended to read her Divination textbook, acting like she wasn't watching him out of the corner of her eye.
She only looked up when he plopped into the seat across from her.
"Hey," Regulus dropped his bookbag on the table. "What did you need to talk about?"
"Um," Ivy glanced around and lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. "Grimmauld Place."
He drew his wand. "Muffliato."
"Is that a charm?" She looked around for the effects of the spell. "What did that do?"
"Oh, it's Severus's invention," Regulus explained. "It fills the ears of any person in the vicinity with a buzzing sound so your conversation isn't overheard."
"Clever, that. I'll have to remember it."
After asking Severus how he managed to create spells at the end of last year, she'd started devising a particularly nasty curse for an exceptionally lethal cause. Of course, the spell she had in mind was very complex, so she was only in the beginning stages of planning, and was nowhere near actually making it.
"Anyway," Regulus went on. "I'm glad you wanna talk about it, I have some thoughts."
"Alright," Ivy tried not to look as nervous as she felt. "I don't think what happened between us was a mistake or anything, but I'm not ready to be in a relationship."
She knew she could handle a romantic relationship just fine, and privately, she craved one with him. But there were a multitude of very good reasons that she couldn't pursue one. Plus, the excuse she gave was impossible to argue against, which was why she and Marlene had chosen it.
"Yeah, I don't think either of us are ready to be in a relationship. We shouldn't rush into anything we can't fully commit to. Besides, we've got time."
"Oh. You're not mad at me, then?"
"No," Regulus smiled.
"Not even about my birthday last year?" Ivy pressed, since they hadn't discussed it.
"Not anymore," he said thoughtfully. "If I'm right, that was your way of telling me you weren't ready before you knew how to say it. And, anyway, I should be moving up in the Dark Lord's ranks soon. That's what I should be focusing on."
"Moving up?"
Despite Severus's spell, Regulus leaned in and lowered his voice. "I'll be getting my Dark Mark over Winter Holidays."
"You're joking," Ivy said in genuine disbelief.
"Not at all," he grinned. "Jealous?"
She could hardly believe it, but she was. What had he been up to lately that would earn him a Dark Mark and why hadn't she done the same?
"Very," her voice dripped with envy. "But you're fourteen. I didn't even know we could join so young. I thought we had to wait until we're out of Hogwarts to get a Mark."
"I'll be fifteen by the time Winter Holidays roll around," he said smugly. "As far as I understand, you only have to be fifteen. And even that, I think, can be flexible."
"Wait. Does that mean Severus…?"
"Winter Hols as well."
Ivy leaned back in her chair and folded her arms poutily.
"Don't worry," Regulus laughed. "I can mentor you. Give it a year under my tutelage and you'll probably have one too."
"Yeah?" She perked up at this.
"Absolutely. I'd offer it to Theya as well but she insists on being fake neutral."
"Can't say it's not clever of her." She sighed, wishing she'd been born a Greengrass.
"Well," Regulus blew out a long breath. "Unless you have anything else to get off your chest, I have three rolls of parchment due in two days for Defence."
Ivy shook her head as he withdrew study materials from his schoolbag. She stared down at her Divination textbook without reading it as she wondered what it must be like to live as a Greengrass, where the highest expectation was to make lots of friends.
October 31st, 1975
Ivy twirled around the dancefloor with Frederick Avery, a tall Slytherin fourth year with strawberry blonde hair. She was enjoying him as a date much more than she'd anticipated.
Her black gown, which had been sent to her by Avdima, glittered under the light of floating jack-o-lanterns in the Great Hall. The Hallowe'en Ball was accented with autumn colours; bright oranges, dark reds, and aspen yellows. Tables had been pushed towards the walls, many of them taken by blokes in fancy robes with bored looks on their faces.
Laughing as Avery spun her, Ivy was pulled back against his chest.
"You're pretty light on your feet," she remarked, a bit high on the jovial energy of the room.
"The same goes for you," his blue eyes glittered. "You haven't stepped on my feet once."
"It's the pure blood." She had recently taken it upon herself to sound like as much of an arrogant pureblood shite as she could, in an effort to build her reputation as a future Death Eater. "And I was in dance lessons from the moment I could walk."
"It really is a pity that you're arranged for Black," Avery sighed.
"Oh?"
"There's not many suitable girls left who are age appropriate."
Ivy had a hard time biting back a retort about how no one had considered age appropriate matches for her. "Do you have your eye on anyone?"
"Greengrass is quite fit."
Don't you fucking dare, Ivy thought viciously. She knew the kind of things his mates got up to in their spare time. Namely, cornering Muggleborns in abandoned classrooms and attempting to practice the Dark Arts on them.
"I believe she already has her eye on someone," she lied apologetically. "How do you like Ariadne Zabini?"
The dark-haired witch was, unfortunately, quite a bit more suited for someone like Frederick. She was equally as uptight about blood –and everything else, though Ivy didn't feel the need to mention that- and her family was currently looking into marriage contracts for her.
"She is from a good family," Avery pondered aloud. "Think you could give me an in?"
"Certainly," Ivy smiled as the music mellowed out, signalling the end of the song. "In fact, I could give you an in now if you'd like."
"That would be perfect."
Taking his arm, he escorted her off the dancefloor like the prized cow she apparently was. She guided them towards Ariadne, who was sitting beside Mulciber, her date, who had dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Ariadne's brown hair was loose down her back and the purple gown she wore showed off her cleavage, which was still far larger than Ivy's. Neither of them were chatting and both looked a little spurned, so she wasn't surprised when Ariadne appeared relieved at the sight of her.
Greeting the couple, she started a conversation about the Mudblood epidemic. This had the desired effect as Ariadne, Avery, and Mulciber jumped in at once to start slinging slurs and discriminatory statements. She stayed present for a while, slowly edging herself out of the conversation.
When she eventually excused herself, she made a beeline for the refreshments table, which had delicious looking sweets stacked a metre high. Grabbing a Pumpkin Pasty and devouring it, she brought a hand up to her hair to make sure it was still in place, as it was all assembled atop her head.
Ivy watched Theya and Severus out on the dancefloor with Regulus and Vivienne Parkinson. Downing another dessert, she tried not to think about how nicely Regulus filled out his dress robes, or how skillful of a dancer he was.
A movement behind them, at the ornate wooden doors of the Great Hall, caught her eye. Sirius and his crimson dress robes slip out the door.
Alone.
Seizing her chance, she hurried along the edges of the room and followed him out the exit.
The corridor was cold and dark, only really gaining light from a few burning torches and the moonlight coming in through the windows to her left. At the far end of the hall was Sirius, who was throwing back a bottle of what she assumed was alcohol. Deciding not to be sly, she walked straight over to him, heels noisy on the stone floor.
He turned as she was about halfway there, the bottle having vanished, and drew his wand.
"Relax," Ivy let her typical mask of indifference slide away. "I'm here in peace."
"Why?" Sirius didn't move.
"I need a favour."
Sirius barked out a laugh. "The last time I was so unfortunate as to see you, you kneed me in the balls. Now you want to ask me a favour?"
"That about sums it up."
"Alright," he tucked his wand into his dress robes. "I'd love to hear what you think I'd be willing to do for you."
"It's not for me, it's for Regulus. I need you not to leave Grimmauld Place."
"Huh?"
"Over the summer, you said you weren't going to live at Grimmauld Place for much longer. I need you to keep staying there over Holidays."
"Why would I do that?" He sounded curious, as opposed to the disdainful tone he usually reserved for people like her.
"Because I saw his scars."
Ivy had been planning to cry in an attempt to manipulate Sirius, but before she could force some tears out, she became genuinely upset. Embarrassed by the tears burning her eyes, she hastily wiped them away.
"I don't want him to hurt," she went on. "I need you to protect him."
"I can't stay in that house," Sirius lacked his usual grandiose tones and shuffled his feet. "Believe me, what you've seen on him is nothing compared to what they do to me."
"Because you're already protecting him," she said slowly.
He was silent.
"You are. You're just not willing to do it for much longer."
"He'll be fifteen soon," he sounded uncertain. "He can take care of himself… Does he know you're talking to me about this?"
"Of course not," she stepped closer to him, trying to convey the importance of her request. "I'm not asking you, Sirius. I- I'm begging you. I don't usually ask, much less beg. But I am."
"I can't," Sirius stepped back. "I just can't."
"Please," Ivy felt a surge of desperation, grabbing his arm as tears dripped off her chin. "You know what he plans to do. You're his older brother, it's your job to protect him. I failed to protect my sister, and that's not something you ever want to live with."
"What do you mean you failed to protect her?" Sirius pulled his arm back slowly, like he was trying to be delicate.
Thundering footsteps broke into the corridor behind them.
Just like that, the defences Ivy had let down in order to ask for help shot back up, like armour around her consciousness. She forced her tears to dry, forced neutrality back over her face.
Sirius looked severely creeped out by the transition.
Wiping her eyes, she turned in time to see Theya fly past her without a word, running from the ballroom in a whirlwind of gold hair and pink silk.
"Don't leave him," Ivy ordered Sirius before running after her.
Not wanting to draw attention, she ran quietly as she could through the corridors, cursing her heels as they slowed her down and made her feet twinge. After a while, Theya came to a stop in an empty hallway, where she leaned against the stone wall and slid to the ground.
Ivy tried to catch her breath as she slowed her sprint. Sitting beside Theya, she took off her heels and chucked them hatefully down the corridor, as she already felt blisters manifesting.
"What happened?" She asked.
Theya groaned. "I kissed Severus."
"You did what? Ew, why would you do that?"
"Shut up," she pulled off her own heels with a satisfied exhale. "He's brilliant and… Merlin, is that boy sexy."
"Gross. Why didn't you tell me you had a crush on him?"
"It's not a crush," she threw her heels in the same direction as Ivy's. "I didn't tell you because you're judgmental. I knew you'd react this way."
"I'm not judgmental!"
"Give me a break, you're as bad as Severus and he hates everyone."
"Whatever," she brushed off the fact that Theya was probably right, as usual. "If it's not a crush, then what?"
She gave her a pointed look.
"You're in love with him? Merlin, does he know?"
"Well, I accidentally kissed him-"
"How do you accidentally kiss Severus Snape?"
"How do you accidentally let Regulus Black grope your arse?"
Ivy flushed. "That's different."
"It's not," Theya snorted. "Anyway, when I kissed him, he just got this confused look on his face, like he'd never thought of me that way. So, I did the natural thing and ran before I could humiliate myself further."
"Bloody hell," she rubbed her lips together uncertainly. "Um, you know that Severus is kind of…"
"Hopelessly in love with Evans? Yeah, I do. Thanks for the reminder."
"Just wanted you to have all the facts."
"You know that Regulus is hopelessly in love with you, right?"
"Don't be daft."
"Just wanted you to have all the facts," she mimicked.
"He's not," Ivy demanded. "He just thinks he's in love with me. It'll pass."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because no one loves me," the words came out before she could comprehend them.
The statement hung in the air.
"Is that what you think?" Theya asked after a moment.
Ivy shrugged, not wanting to ponder how naturally she'd said such a thing.
"I love you," she grasped her hand. "So does Regulus. And before you fight me on it, let me make my point. Why do you think he agreed so easily to end things right after snogging you senseless?"
"Because neither of us are ready."
"You're both perfectly ready, you're just dense. But remember what he said when you guys decided to be friends? He said that you two have time. He's convinced that you'll get together eventually, and so are you. That's the only reason you're alright seeing him with Parkinson all the time."
Ivy knew she was right but didn't want to give her the pleasure of saying so. Especially when she was working so hard to bury her emotions.
"Can't believe I'm consoling you," Theya grumbled, tossing her hand away. "On your love life, when mine was the one that just got buggered up."
"What're you going to do?"
"I dunno," she rested her head on Ivy's shoulder. "Try not to love him."
"It's harder than you think."
"That's comforting."
January 1st, 1976
Regulus hadn't been prepared for the Dark Mark initiation. He'd known that he would have to murder someone, but he hadn't imagined it would be the gruesome ordeal that it turned into. He had been equipped to cast the Killing Curse, not having expected that there would be hours of buildup to doing so.
It had begun at midnight with Regulus, Severus, and some other Death Eaters invading the Meriweather farmland home. There was a family of six inside: the mother was a witch, the father a Muggle, and their four children were halfbloods that Regulus knew from Hogwarts.
The parents were still being tortured in the kitchen by the Lestranges, while the youngest and oldest siblings were already dead. Their bodies laid in the hallway just beyond the sitting room, where he and Severus were with their fourth year twins, Dorian and Hecate.
The twins were writhing on the floor with various bleeding cuts and gouges on their skin. As Severus cast another Cruciatus Curse, Regulus wiped his sweaty brow and ignored the pleading coming from the kitchen, which was followed by a gurgling sound.
Lord Voldemort in his terrifying, waxy and reptilian form, stood in the corner, watching their every movement with scarlet eyes. He was cloaked in black and entirely still, indulging himself in the torture.
Regulus dealt another vicious spell, barely noticing how cold he'd gone.
Not physically, as he was sweating from head to toe and still riding the adrenaline high. Mentally, he'd gone cold. He'd shut out the reality of what he was doing, shooting wicked blasts of light as though he was merely practising spells for school.
He watched a slash carve itself straight down Hecate's torso and she screamed at the top of her lungs, her eyes so puffy from weeping that they'd almost swollen shut. Regulus continued to draw out each shriek and wail as the Dark Lord had commanded, not allowing himself to think past his next action. He didn't know how he would feel when he allowed himself to do so.
Bleed them until you think they've had enough, the Dark Lord had said.
He had instinctively known that there would be no enough, that he wasn't supposed to land the Killing Curse until Hecate was begging for death. Some part of him also didn't want to be outmatched by Severus or for the Dark Lord to think of him as anything less than ruthless.
Regulus kept on until he was shaking with exhaustion and until Hecate Meriweather was unconscious, which was thanks to a particularly excruciating Cruciatus Curse. He paused for a moment to catch his breath before pointing his wand at the girl's broken, bloody body.
"Avada Kedavra!" The green spell hit her and she went still.
He was surprised by how little he felt after murdering his classmate. Maybe because it was easier, far easier, than the torture. But perhaps, the emptiness was indicative of something far worse.