Bang Bang Bang Bang by Sohodolls
Daddy says I'm good for nothing
Mama says that it's from him
Manic sister thinks I'm cracking
Brother says it's in my genes
January 5th, 1976
Despite the frigid cold that was causing her nose to run profusely, Ivy remained where she was by the carriages, arms folded. Observing the students who had never seen death, she watched them board the carriages, none the wiser to the Thestrals pulling their chariots.
"Oi! You ready?" Theya beckoned her.
Trudging through the falling snow to join her mates, she noticed the distance Severus was putting between himself and Theya, as well as the lack of distance Ariadne was putting between herself and Regulus.
"I'm cold," Ariadne simpered to Regulus. "You could warm me up."
Possessive spite threatened to take charge until she took in the expression on his face and Severus's. They were gaping up at the skeletal horses with shared looks of bewilderment scrawled across their features. Not only that, but they both were abnormally pale, sweaty, and fidgety.
"What are they?" Regulus breathed.
"Huh?" Ariadne frowned at him.
"Why don't you go ahead?" Ivy nodded to Theya and Ariadne. "There's something I'd like to chat with the boys about."
The dark-haired witch shot her an annoyed look. "Why can't you just say it to all of us?"
"It's private," her words were clipped.
Theya exchanged a look with Ariadne, then steered the dark-haired witch into a carriage with some Hufflepuffs, Ariadne whispering in her ear as they departed.
"What happened?" Ivy turned to the blokes. "You two look dreadful. I mean it, you look like you're dying."
"Thanks," Severus said wryly.
"I'll tell you later," Regulus waved a hand dismissively. "What are these? I've never seen them before."
"Thestrals. They've always pulled the carriages, but only those who've witnessed death can see them."
They exchanged a look that she decidedly did not like.
Thoroughly examining them, she recognized that something else was off. She'd learned in Divination that places could be haunted, but she'd learned from life that people could be too. In the same vein, people could gain imprints similar to haunted places.
It was then that she noticed something hanging around them. Some intangible dark energy floated off of them, like ashes fluttering away from their bodies.
When she blinked, it vanished.
"What." Ivy demanded. "Happened."
"It was the Thestrals, wasn't it?" Regulus looked put out.
"No, I can feel something on you two."
"Like how you can feel hauntings?" Severus rolled his eyes.
"Yes. Exactly like that."
"Look," Regulus inched towards a nearby carriage. "I told you, we'll talk later."
"When?" She folded her arms.
"You could just mind your own business," Severus drawled, getting into the carriage.
Ivy fumed, despite knowing he had a point. It wasn't her right to demand information from them, especially if it had anything to do with death. Still, she would pry the information out of them one way or another.
"We'll talk the first chance I get," Regulus gave her arm a brief squeeze. "I promise."
February 18th, 1976
Ivy blew out a long breath, leaning back on the hindlegs of her chair, bored to tears as she sat in History of Magic. Binns's voice had faded into background noise ages ago and she'd stopped taking thorough notes after third year. She was glad to report that it hadn't affected her grades much.
Glancing about in search of entertainment, she found Theya napping on Ariadne's shoulder, Ariadne looking ready to pass out as well. Regulus, who was on Ivy's right, was being studious as ever and taking notes.
Just as she began wondering whether she could jinx a Hufflepuff from across the room without getting caught, a slip of parchment slid over to her.
Skive off Ancient Runes with me? – RAB
Ivy dipped her glass quill in the bottle of ink and wrote back: Sure. To do what? – IES
Several ideas of what they could do popped into her mind, most of them sensual and sorely tempting, but she did her best to push off those fantasies and not pay any mind to how frustrated they made her. Tucking the thoughts into her spank bank -a Muggle phrase Marlene had taught her- she tried not to think about the spanking part of the term.
His response arrived momentarily: Talk. – RAB
Let's walk Ariadne to class first, she feels left out when we go off on our own. – IES
She told you that? – RAB
No, but I 'm smart enough to know when she's being passive aggressive. I think she has a crush on you, too, so that doesn't really help. – IES
Does she? – RAB
Ivy was infuriated by the way he looked past her at Ariadne with a curious smile.
I think so. You're still dating Vivienne, though, right? - IES
Dating is a strong word. We're not, but letting everyone think that keeps the blokes off her back and the girls off mine. – RAB
What girls are on your back? Don't they know we have a marriage contract? – IES
Someone sounds jealous. Do you want a list of names? – RAB
That would be great. – IES
I was taking the piss. Like I'm going to give you names. I've seen what happens to those on the other end of your wand. – RAB
You don't really think I'd hurt someone? – IES
Please. You're violent. – RAB
The only real fight I've gotten into was with the Gryffindors last year. – IES
Yes, but that's because you restrain yourself. The number of times you've offered to murder my parents, or your own for that matter, is astronomical. – RAB
Speaking of murder, I should be ready to begin actual work on that curse I mentioned within a year. – IES
Plausible deniability, remember? – RAB
Theya's rubbing off on you a little too much. What happened to the Regulus that watched me humiliate Potter, and loved every second of it I might add, back in second year? – IES
I'm still here, I just have to be more careful nowadays. Especially if you're serious about the intent for the spell. – RAB
Well, I'm not about to whip it out over family dinner. – IES
Fair enough. Just remember to teach it to me once it's done. – RAB
That's if I can make it work. – IES
You'll make it work. – RAB
We'll see. – IES
I used that Slicing Spell you made over Winter Hols and it worked. – RAB
How were you able to use magic over the Holidays? Underage magic is illegal and all that nonsense. – IES
The Ministry doesn't track individual wands, just the vicinity where magic is being used. So if I cast a spell at Grimmauld Place, they won't come after me because they only know where it occurred, not who cast the spell. You really never wondered why you weren't expelled after blasting apart that garden? – RAB
Apparently not. But that's good to know. Thanks. – IES
No problem. – RAB
The remainder of the class was spent playing Exploding Snap with Ariadne, as they tried to see how long they could play without waking Theya. As Ivy suspected from years of sharing a Dormitory with her, the golden-haired witch was quite the heavy sleeper and only awoke when her hair caught briefly on fire at the very end of class.
"You're lucky I didn't go bald," Theya said indignantly as they left the classroom. "I'd have paid you both back with a Calvorio."
"We'll consider ourselves lucky," Ariadne exchanged an amused look with Ivy.
"I told them it was a bad idea," Regulus snickered.
"Yeah, well, you're the voice of reason," Theya separated from them to go down a different corridor. "I'm off to Muggle Studies. See you at dinner."
As she disappeared down the hall, Ivy headed in the direction of the Ancient Runes classroom with Regulus and Ariadne. She and Regulus paused at the doorway to the room.
"You're not coming?" The dark-haired witch raised her brows.
"Nah," Regulus said. "We've got something to take care of."
"What is it?" Ariadne asked. "I can help."
"We've got it," Ivy smiled. "But thanks."
Trying not to feel guilty over the disappointed and jealous look on her face, she and Regulus left in search of a secluded place to talk. Fortunately, there were many options. They ended up picking an abandoned classroom on the fourth floor that had a few desks and a small window on the far wall.
Regulus locked the door behind them and Ivy went to sit on a desk, legs dangling off the edge as he cast a Muffliato, then put away his blackthorn wand in his robes. Instead of joining her on the desk, he moved to lean against the wall with his hands in his pockets.
She narrowed her eyes at his defensive physicality. "Can I see the Mark?"
"Why?"
"I'm curious to see whether it would look good on me," Ivy was only half-joking.
Regulus snorted before glancing at the door. He pulled up his left sleeve to reveal his forearm and the Dark Mark. The skull and serpent were dark grey, slightly shimmery, and moved on his arm.
"You walk around without a Concealment Charm on that? Seems risky."
"I haven't found anything that works on it," he rolled his sleeve back down. "Believe me, I've looked."
"Well, I can see about making a spell to hide Marks next."
Regulus nodded absently, loosening his green and silver tie as though it was obnoxiously tight. "I killed someone to get the thing without realising how hard it would be to cover up."
"You did have to murder someone." She had expected as much.
He cleared his throat. "We also had to torture them."
Ivy was still. A surge of mixed emotions –namely anger, panic, and an unsettling amount of sympathy– rushed forward. She put her focus on maintaining a neutral expression, especially since he was examining her intently.
"That's why you took so long to tell me," she said steadily. "How bad was it?"
"Bad. It went on for about four hours."
Unsure that she could mask her emotions after hearing that, she slid off the desk and went to look out the window. Folding her arms, she stared hard at the gloomy sky and the distant Quidditch pitch where some students were skirmishing.
"It was the Meriweather family, wasn't it?" She asked after a moment.
"Yes."
Ivy remembered an issue of the Daily Prophet from a few weeks ago, which called the massacre grotesque, barbaric, and sickening.
"Did you like it?" She asked softly.
Regulus was silent.
The quiet burned her. The not knowing, but also having an inkling. She could feel their friendship dangling from a thin thread that she hoped he wouldn't cut. She could understand –not justify, but understand– how someone could do such a thing. But she could not condone enjoying it.
"Tell me if you liked it," she demanded.
"Why do you want to know?" Regulus's voice wavered.
"Just answer the question."
When he remained silent, Ivy whipped around in a fury, ready to stalk over and shout the question in his face. But she stopped short upon taking him in; he had a hand over his eyes, his shoulders hunched and shaking.
Shocked, especially since she'd never once seen him cry, she swallowed her words, gleaning in seconds that he was consumed by conflicted regret.
Walking over slowly, she tugged gently on the front of his robes.
Regulus instantly fell into her, arms wrapping around her waist and face tucking into the crook of her neck. She held him protectively, if not possessively, one arm tight around his neck while the other slid into his silken black hair and massaged his scalp comfortingly.
Ivy was distinctly familiar with this type of weeping. It was the uncontrollable, brutal kind that meant he had lost a part of himself he would never get back. She had experienced it herself more than once.
He pulled away after a moment, just enough to see her face.
"I tortured her," he wiped at his eyes. "With every curse imaginable. I didn't like it."
His hands were still on her hips and she could feel him fumbling with his fingers. Sliding her hands from around his neck and just slightly down his chest, her fingers graced up to hold his face.
"Ivy," Regulus whispered, not meeting her eyes. "I feel like… I walked into a cage to test it out for someone else, only to find that it was for me."
Watching his face carefully, she chose her next words even more painstakingly. She could tell he was sincere, but beliefs in pureblood values didn't change overnight; he hadn't told her he hated the entire system, just that he hated torture.
"It's alright," Ivy said softly. "I won't tell anyone."
Tension seeped out of Regulus's shoulders and he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. Following suit, she let herself enjoy being close to him and breathed in his scent of pine trees.
His regret was small in the grand scheme of things, but perhaps it was just the opening she needed to reveal to him the truth like it had been shown to her.
Ivy smiled.
April 16th, 1976
Regulus was startled awake by Walburga screaming. He released a deeply disgruntled sigh upon discerning that her shrieking was closer than usual. Instead of coming from somewhere downstairs, it sounded like it was coming from Sirius's room.
Sitting up in bed, he ran a hand through his messy hair, knowing he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Rolling out of bed to see what the commotion was about this time, he threw on a long-sleeved shirt and went to the door, opening it just a crack.
There wasn't much to see as neither his brother nor mother were in the hallway.
"You heard me!" Sirius yelled. "I fucked a Muggleborn!"
Regulus released a long groan and shut the door, leaning his forehead against it. He didn't want to be dragged into another argument where his brother called him names while his mother denied every word. He'd been stuck in the middle of one of those the day before and was fairly certain his ears were still ringing.
"You fornicated with filth?" Walburga screeched. "I ought to blast you off the tapestry right now! Why can't you be obedient like your brother?"
His lip curled in revulsion.
"He only fucks pureblood bitches," Sirius shouted back. "That's for sure!"
Regulus groaned again, unsure whether Sirius knew that about his first time with Vivienne a few days ago or if he was just being a dick as usual. The latter seemed more likely.
There was a crash in Sirius's room and he opened his door again to watch Walburga storm down the hallway, wand going back into her robes.
"What the fuck is going on?" Regulus arrived in his brother's doorway with a scowl.
He was disgusted upon taking in Sirius's Muggle posters and Gryffindor hangings. The photographs of Sirius with his friends especially irked him and even prompted envy to crawl unpleasantly in his chest.
"Walburga's a cunt," Sirius grunted from where he sat on the edge of the bed.
Raising a brow at the blood spurting from his nose, he took a wild guess that Walburga had broken it and gave him the gash on his forehead. Sirius tilted his head back to stop the blood flow.
"Maybe just don't shag Mudbloods," Regulus suggested.
"Watch your fucking mouth."
"I'm not the one who needs to watch their mouth." He didn't typically pick fights with his brother, but the photos of Sirius with his friends made his blood boil. "If the Dark Lord catches wind of a Black son shagging Mudbloods, you'll have a much worse problem on your hands than Walburga."
Sirius glared at him, before his gaze dropped to Regulus's left forearm.
Instinctively, he moved his arm behind his back, knowing as he did so that it was such a stupid move.
"You didn't," his grey eyes flashed. "Tell me you're not that thick."
"Lot smarter than you," Regulus folded his arms. "But you'll get what's coming to you. So will your friends. The Dark Lord will make sure of it if I don't first."
"I fucking hate you!" Sirius snarled, rushing at him.
He grabbed Regulus by the collar of his shirt and slammed him up against the hallway wall. Before he could shove him away, Sirius clocked him.
Pain splintered in his jaw as he fell to the ground, stunned. While he'd had plenty of arguments with his brother, they hadn't gotten physical with each other in years. He clutched his jaw on the floor as Sirius emerged from his bedroom, trunk in tow.
"You're dead to me," he spat, throwing some slip of parchment in Regulus's face.
He then stormed down the hall in a very similar cold fury to Walburga's, vanishing around the corner without another word.
Sitting up, he stared after him, finding that the hurt in his chest was far worse than that in his jaw. He listened to Walburga scream downstairs, then felt the walls shake. The front door slammed shut and he knew that Sirius had been blasted off the tapestry.
Not only was Sirius gone for good, but he had chosen his friends over Regulus with more finality than ever.
The house was silent after that, and as he regained himself, he looked around for what Sirius had thrown at him. He located a picture of a far younger Sirius giving a far younger Regulus a piggyback ride around the drawing room.
The photograph was torn in half.
April 18th, 1976
Regulus had been in a vile mood since Sirius left. This was evident when he arrived in Ivy, Theya, and Ariadne's compartment on the way back to Hogwarts with a black eye. It was probably well deserved since he'd hexed Potter upon seeing him, which prompted Sirius to brawl with him again.
He ignored the girls' gasps at his injury while stowing away his luggage.
"Where's Severus?" He asked moodily.
"With Rosier and Wilkes," Ariadne said.
"Thanks," Regulus said flatly, going for the door.
"Wait," Ivy moved to block his way out. "At least tell us what happened before you go running off."
He scowled at her. "Have you ever noticed my brother's initials?"
"Um, no?" Theya chimed in.
"They're SOB. It's almost like my parents inherently knew."
"What happened?" Ivy pressed.
"Sirius moved in with the Potters," he said bitterly.
"He did what?" Her face went cold.
"Not before he decked me, though," he opened the door, relieved when no one tried to stop him this time. "Fucked my jaw up real nice. I'll be with Severus."
Regulus only made it a few compartments over before a hand caught onto his arm. Expecting Ivy, he turned around to tell her to bugger off. Instead, he was faced with Theya, who was decidedly the better option.
"What?" He snapped, pressing himself against the wall to let other students pass.
"First off," Theya moved aside as well, narrowing her hazel eyes. "Don't get pissy with me because you're in a bad mood. Second, I'm going to keep an eye on Iv, but I hope you're planning to as well."
"Why do I need to do that?"
She gave him a look.
"Right," he found himself repressing a smile. "Because she's vindictive and violent. Personally, I think it'd be a good thing if she found a way to get revenge. I don't see what the problem is."
"She was wearing her murder face when I came after you," Theya said worriedly. "In fact, I probably shouldn't have left her with Ariadne."
He knew exactly the look she was talking about. Ivy was already abrasive and downright terrifying at times, but her murder face was fucking harrowing. It was a rare sight that only occurred when she was seriously considering killing someone. Of course, she hadn't killed anyone yet, but that was just the concern. She hadn't killed anyone yet.
"Ew, Regulus," Theya hissed, jumping back from him. "What the fuck?"
He looked down to find that he had a hard-on.
"Bollocks," he quickly turned to face the wall and make an adjustment. "Sorry, I promise it's not about you."
"Ivy's murder face?" Like the good friend she was, Theya blocked him from view and kept watch for other students despite sounding disturbed. "Sometimes I think the two of you are seriously sick in the head."
"You're probably right about that," Regulus finished his adjustment and faced her again.
"What did you do?" She maintained eye contact like she was making an effort not to look down.
"Don't ask and I won't have to tell."
"Ugh," she wrinkled her nose.
Sudden shouting started down the train.
Peering over her shoulder, about halfway down the train, he saw Ivy standing in the doorway of a compartment. Her hair was tied up by black ribbons in its usual bun, but one fist had been drawn back like she was either about to punch someone, or she already had.
Trying not to think about the fact that he was turned on again, he and Theya hurried over.
Regulus arrived to see that Ivy was indeed wearing her murder face, which consisted of dangerously narrowed silver eyes and a face so wrenched in anger that most anyone would cower in her presence. She was standing in the open doorway of a compartment containing the Marauders, who were all shouting. Sirius was curled up on the floor and bleeding from the nose, making Regulus notice that Ivy's knuckles were bruised.
"I told you not to leave him," she seethed, apparently still in the middle of her rampage. "You selfish motherfucker. You abandoned him! I asked you -begged you- to protect him!"
The glee drained right out of him. "You did what?"
Feeling like he'd been socked in the gut, he realised how little she thought of him. She didn't think he could take care of himself when he was practically a grown man and had apparently begged his older brother to protect him. Not only that, but the girl he was in love with had just broadcasted those opinions to Regulus's enemies and whatever students were listening in the hallway.
Ivy turned to him with wide, horrified eyes. "Regulus, you-"
"Weren't supposed to hear that?" He finished coldly.
When she reached for him, he moved roughly out of her grasp. Ignoring his gaping classmates who had assembled after hearing the racket, he shouldered through the crowd in hopes of escaping his humiliation.
Unfortunately, it chased him all the way down the corridor.
June 19th, 1976
Ivy stared sullenly down at her breakfast plate, which had a mountain of bacon on it. Stealing a glance down the Slytherin table, she tried not to stare at Regulus, who had taken to eating his meals without her. He was accompanied by Severus and Avery, not paying her any mind.
"You need to stop moping," Theya said around her mouthful of eggs. "You're going to get frown lines."
"It's been months," she sulked. "He hasn't talked to me in months. He's never been this mad at me, not even after my birthday last year."
"I'd be cross too," Ariadne said. "If you called me weak in front of all our classmates."
"I didn't say he was weak! There's nothing wrong with protecting those you love."
"You can't protect blokes in public," Ariadne pressed her lips together. "They get all threatened and proud. Besides, I wouldn't want my personal business aired out either."
"I know," Ivy groaned. "I've tried apologising but anytime I manage to corner him he finds a way out."
"Maybe start by not cornering him," Theya suggested.
Ivy let out a whiny, impatient noise and pushed away her plate, deciding that it was probably time to open the letter Avdima had sent her. Seeing as her parents never wrote to her, she suspected that her week was about to be absolutely ruined.
Opening it angrily, she was only halfway through before a happy glow washed over her.
Her father had fallen ill and appeared to be dying of dragon pox.
It was the best news she'd had in years.
"What're you grinning about?" Theya looked over her shoulder at the letter.
"Nothing," Ivy quickly folded it and stuffed it in her pocket. "I just realised that you were right. It's beautiful outside, the year is almost over… I should take a stroll around the Black Lake, get some fresh air before we go."
"Did someone put another Cheering Charm on you?" Ariadne glared around for the culprit. "I get why it's funny, but they've got to stop."
"No," she tugged her plate of bacon forward and began devouring it. "I'm just happy."
"You're never just happy," Theya said sceptically. "You're grinning ear to ear and I've never once seen you do that."
Ivy let out a lighthearted laugh.
"Stop it," Ariadne looked disturbed. "You're really creeping me out."
"I can't help it," she grinned, noticing an emerald-eyed witch nearing them. "We've got a redheaded Prefect coming our way."
Theya stiffened, her posture going so rigid that she looked like she had something stuck up her arse. Ivy eyed her, wondering if that's what she looked like with her perfect posture.
"Hey," Evans arrived, smiling brightly at Theya. "Have you seen Mary MacDonald? We were supposed to meet at the Library earlier but I can't find her. You know everyone's whereabouts so I thought I'd ask."
"No," she said icily. "I haven't."
"Well, if you see her, would you mention I'm looking for her?"
"Sure," Theya stood abruptly. "I've got to run. See you later, Evans."
As the golden-haired witch hurried away without so much as a glance over her shoulder, the redheaded Gryffindor remained where she was.
"She always calls me Lily," Evans turned to Ivy and Ariadne. "Did I do something? She's been avoiding me for months."
Ariadne flat out ignored her.
Ivy felt a twinge of annoyance. "Severus."
"Huh?"
"You know. Black hair. Likes Potions a little too much. Chases after you like a lapdog."
Evans glared at her. "What about Severus?"
"You really don't know?"
"About what?"
Ivy eyed her resentfully. "For someone so clever, you're awfully stupid."
"I'm really not in the mood for this," she made a move to leave.
"Wait," she grabbed her arm, feeling more generous than usual. "Severus has a crush on you, dimwit. More than a crush on you."
"No, he doesn't," her face turned as red as her hair.
"Everyone knows except the two of you. If you don't love him back, stop leading him on already. Now, unless you need me to explain any other obvious and simple things, do go away. I'm having a fantastic day and you're putting a damper on my mood."
"I told Marlene to stop putting Cheering Charms on you," Evans shook her head and departed in the direction of the Gryffindor table.
Ivy made eye contact with Marlene, who had been observing their interaction, and mouthed: Run.
The blonde jumped out of her seat and hurried from the Great Hall.
Evans followed close behind, looking ready to scold.
Ivy was on her way back to the Slytherin Dormitory, practically skipping with joy from the news about her father, when she passed a closed door and heard what sounded like a yell coming from behind it.
Trying for the handle, she found it locked.
Pressing her ear against the door, she tried to figure out whether it was worth her time to check things out, or whether it was another couple having a quick shag. Hearing a whimper that didn't sound like one of pleasure, she pulled out her wand.
"Alohomora," she whispered, cracking the door open to peek inside.
Instead of the naked couple she'd still somehow expected to see, she beheld something far worse. The room looked like most of the abandoned classrooms she'd seen; windowless with dusty tables and chairs. Except that in the centre of this one was a desk, on which laid a Gryffindor girl whose robes were torn in several places. She had been gagged with her tie, and was bleeding from the head. Crying silently, her dark hair fell over the edge of the desk.
Standing over her was Mulciber, who had a sickening, greedy expression on his face as he pointed his wand at her and murmured: "Crucio."
Ivy darted into the classroom, slamming the door shut behind herself.
Mulciber's blue eyes shot to her in panic, though the expression vanished within seconds.
"Oh, hey, Selwyn," he said casually.
"What the fuck are you doing?" She hissed, completely ignoring Mary MacDonald's whimpers for help.
"She's a Mudblood," Mulciber said simply.
"Yeah," she tried hard not to roll her eyes. "But you can't torture people in the castle - much less use Unforgivables on them when Dumbledore is just a few floors away!"
"I do it all the time," he shrugged as MacDonald let out an agonised sound. He stuck the tip of his wand into her neck. "Shut the fuck up."
"Adrian," Ivy shook her head in feigned exasperation. "You're not being careful. All it took was one Alohomora to get in. If it had been anyone else, you'd be expelled and on your way to Azkaban. You're going to get caught doing shite like this."
"But-"
"Look," she rubbed her eyes irritably. "Get out of here and I'll take care of it, alright? I'll see if I can manage some Obliviation."
She did everything in her power not to look at MacDonald, mostly to prove that she didn't care about the Muggleborn, who was crying softly.
"You can cast a Memory Charm?" He cocked his head at her.
"Better than you can," Ivy forced a smirk. "You've heard that I'm top of our class in Charms by now, right?"
"Yeah, actually," Mulciber looked at MacDonald with sadistic longing. "I was having so much fun… You're sure you can Obliviate her properly?"
"I'll do my best. It's a pretty advanced Charm so I can't guarantee anything, but a chance at Obliviation is a better solution than letting her go free."
"Alright," he looked disappointed but tucked away his wand. "Fine."
Ivy watched him head for the door and held her passive face as he left. Once he was gone, she cast her own Locking Spell on the door, as well as a Muffliato. Only once she tested the spells did she drop her emotionless pretence and hurry to MacDonald.
The girl was sobbing and tried to scream around her gag as Ivy neared her.
"No Obliviation for you," she said hurriedly. "I'm just going to get rid of this Full Body-Bind Curse. Reparifors!"
MacDonald instantly started sitting up, though her arms shook with the effort. Ivy reached for the red and gold tie that was gagging her, while the dark-haired witch flinched back.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she said sincerely. "I'm just taking off the gag."
"Don't touch me," MacDonald's voice was muffled.
Ivy held her hands up, remembering that she was still holding her wand. Slowly reaching over to MacDonald, she placed the hazel wood on the desk beside her. Backing away, she kept her hands in the air.
The suspicion started to die in MacDonald's eyes as she yanked off the gag and cradled her left arm against her chest with a wince. She snatched up Ivy's wand with her other hand, angling it at her defensively.
"You can leave if you want," Ivy drawled. "But I doubt you'll make it to the Hospital Wing on your own without collapsing in the corridor. Let me check your wounds."
"If you find my wand and hand it over," she said frostily. "Then we'll see."
"Done."
Beginning her search, she watched MacDonald sway from the corner of her eye. She located the wand in a cluster of spiderwebs beneath a dusty chair in the corner and handed it back to its rightful owner.
"Expecto Patronum!" MacDonald flicked her wand with her good arm and a silvery rabbit burst forth. "Lily, I'm in the Dungeons. Mulciber used Dark Magic on me. Selwyn's here but she's not a threat. Knock three times to find us."
As the rabbit jumped through the ceiling and vanished, MacDonald handed Ivy her wand back.
"What was that?" Ivy asked.
"A Patronus message. Lily Evans invented it."
"Oh," she made a mental note, as those messages could be very useful. "Can I check your wounds now?"
"I guess," MacDonald said warily.
Examining her, she cast a Tergeo to clean the wound on her head. It was deep, though thankfully not quite as deep as the cuts on her abdomen. Disgusted with Mulciber, she used her Slicing Charm on the hem of her robes to carve off a long piece of fabric.
She was wrapping it around MacDonald's head when three knocks came at the door.
"Alohomora," Ivy flicked her wand at the door and continued her work on binding MacDonald's head.
"Don't hex her," MacDonald said over Ivy's shoulder. "She found me."
Assuming that there was a wand aimed at her back, she tossed her own over her shoulder carelessly and finished the tie at the back of the Muggleborn's head. Once the fabric was securely fastened, she turned to face the redhead.
"Okay," Evans lowered her wand. "Help me get her to the Hospital Wing. Those cuts on her stomach look nasty."
"No," Ivy said. "I can't be seen with you two."
"And why is that?" Evans curled her lip in disgust. "Hoping to cover for Mulciber?"
"Fuck Mulciber," she said crabbily, earning shocked looks from both of them. "Fuck half my House, for that matter. And fuck half of yours too, while I'm at it. I'd rather not deal with all the questions about why I'm helping a Muggleborn – two Muggleborns. In fact, neither of you can tell anyone I was here."
"Why don't you want anyone to see this side of you?" Evans narrowed her eyes, almost knowingly.
"Sometimes I hate how clever you are," she scowled, grabbing her wand from the floor and heading for the door. "Forget I was here. Put a Hover Charm on MacDonald and go."
Ivy slipped out of the room and slunk away, hoping they could keep their mouths shut.