Ashleyby Halsey
Standing now, in the mirror that I built myself
And I can't remember why the decision wasn't mine
But it seems I'm only clingin' to an idea now
Took my heart and sold it out to a vision that I wrote myself
August 21st, 1976
Ivy forced herself to cry, as she was on display in the front row of her father's funeral.
Selwyn Estate's massive ballroom was full of black flowers, the white marble floor polished and shining. Behind her stood several rows of wooden chairs that her mates –sans Regulus- sat in amongst many of pureblood society's finest. Some were from important families or the Ministry, while others were Death Eaters - namely ones she'd recently met at the Dark Lord's gatherings, which she'd begun frequenting.
Eyes unfocused, she stared at Rodolphus Lestrange, who was giving a speech about her father behind a podium. Not paying much attention to what he was saying, Ivy was preoccupied with procuring tears to look as though she was missing her father.
Not that it was hard, since she was in mourning. She wasn't crying over Rhaen; she was crying over her childhood, as this was the one chance she would get to openly mourn anything until she took care of her mother – a plan which was coming together nicely, though slowly.
Avdima grabbed her hand and gave it a hard squeeze.
Rising from her chair, Ivy smoothed down her black mourning robes and replaced Rodolphus behind the podium. Pulling a neatly folded slip of parchment from her pocket, she flattened it on the tilted wooden surface.
Writing the short eulogy had been easy, as she'd first written her true thoughts, which were crossed out, before taking the same sentence and reworking it into fiction.
"For those I haven't had a chance to say hello to, I'm Ivy, Rhaen's daughter."
She glanced up at the rows of watching eyes. The seat next to Walburga, which had been saved for Regulus, remained vacant. Unexpected tears of hurt began to well up and she made eye contact with Theya, who gave a helpless shrug.
"I loved my father; he was a great wizard," she continued, eying the truth on the parchment.
I hated my father; he was wicked.
"I wish he was still here, with every heartbeat."
I wish I'd killed him myself, with every heartbeat.
"My father was always so caring, especially after my sister died."
He abused his children and had his 11-year-old daughter murdered.
"Because of him, I know how to be a proper, respectable pureblood."
Because of him, I have a festering pit of hate in my chest that I will never be rid of.
"My life is dim without him. All I can hope for is to live up to his legacy."
I'm happier without him. All I can hope for is to be rid of Avdima, too. The cunt.
"He was the best father in the world. I will never forget him."
He hated me and hurt me. I will make sure he is forgotten.
"Thank you all for being here."
I don't give two shits about being here.
"I know my father would have loved this."
My father didn't feel love.
Having said goodbye to the last of the funeral guests, Ivy led her friends onto the Estate grounds, tossing a bottle of Elderflower wine between her hands. The sun had already gone down, though the summer breeze was silk on her skin as she guided them between the neatly trimmed hedges and past the main water feature.
"Merlin," Theya gawked. "How many fountains do you have?"
"I've counted two so far," Severus said.
"Seems a little excessive," Ariadne added.
"My parents are – were – are?" Ivy shook her head. "Nothing if not excessive."
Arriving at the stone archway, she kissed the pad of her finger and placed it against the rock before opening the newly installed wooden door. After destroying her and Hazel's hideaway, she'd enlisted Minsty to clear away the rubble and expand the area a little.
The hideaway was beneath a newly planted weeping willow that had the repaired swing hanging from a branch. Ivy waved her wand and bluebell flames flickered to life in the glass hanging from various branches. There was also a small fire pit around which sat a sofa and matching chairs, the wicker of which was wound with growing flora. A record player stood in a corner, Moly flowers blooming in the surrounding grass.
Ivy flicked her wand and the record began with a warm melody.
"Your parents let you build this?" Theya asked in disbelief as she gathered everyone's bottles of alcohol and set them atop the patchwork of stones that had been set into the ground.
"'Course not," she said. "They– my mother knows nothing about this place and I'm planning to keep it that way."
"I'd do the same."
At the sound of a new voice, Ivy looked back at the door to the sanctuary, finding Regulus standing there with a bashful look on his face. His black hair, which was long enough to reach his shoulders, had been neatly combed, and he wore the same black mourning robes as the rest of them, an apology in his brown eyes.
Theya walked up to him and slapped him straight across the face.
Ivy started, her bewilderment manifesting on Severus and Ariadne's faces.
Theya pointed a finger in his face. "I don't care how mad you are or how wounded your ego is. If there's a death, you show up for the ruddy funeral."
"I'm here now, aren't I?" Regulus spoke defensively despite looking guilty.
"I don't give a shite," she continued blandly. "Sometimes you put aside your feelings to be a loyal friend. You owe her an apology."
"I-"
"Apologise," she demanded. "Or I'll tell her what you think of her murder face."
"I was going to anyway," Regulus looked both annoyed and embarrassed. "And don't you dare."
"Good," Theya nodded briskly before going to sit with Severus and Ariadne.
Regulus gave a jerk of his head and Ivy followed him out of the secret garden, closing the door most of the way.
Now alone with him amongst the night sky and hedges, she folded her arms.
Regulus took in Ivy's puffy eyes and only semi-angry stance. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black box. With a tentative step forward, he opened it, showing her a decorative hairpiece that glittered under the moonlight. It was made up of silver, sapphires, and obsidian.
"Is that a Thestral?" She peered at it. "Why a Thestral?"
"That's your Patronus, isn't it?"
"I think so. I've never been able to cast a fully corporeal one, but as far as I can tell…" She tilted her head. "How did you know that?"
"Because I know you," he said softly, hiding his smugness over guessing correctly. "May I?"
Ivy nodded and turned her back to him.
Regulus placed the hairpiece above her bun, where it mingled with black ribbons. He took his time, savouring the nearness that he rarely got to have with her, though it was difficult to resist pulling the ribbons out of her hair the way he had a year ago in his bedroom.
"This is my apology," he said as she turned back around. "Honestly, I didn't think you would need me here since you hated Rhaen. I realised after that I still should've come... You're more upset than I thought you'd be."
"What makes you say that?"
"Your eyes are red."
The sound of laughter and clinking bottles came from the other side of the cracked door.
"I don't care about Rhaen," she pulled the door shut. "I care about the childhood I didn't have."
"You're mourning the lost years," Regulus nodded. "Because you know you could have had better."
"Yes," Ivy reached up to touch the hairpiece with a little smirk. "You just had a Thestral hairpin lying around, huh?"
"No," he said nonchalantly. "I had it specially made about a year ago."
He had spent a fortune on the thing after snogging her in his bedroom and only after having it made did he realise he was in love with her. Around the same time, he'd discerned that she wasn't ready to love him.
A boisterous laugh came from behind the door
"We should probably get back," Ivy said.
She made a move to do so, but Regulus pulled her back by the arm.
"Hold on," he said evenly. "I apologised, now it's your turn."
"Right," she sighed. "I shouldn't have shouted your business to the whole train."
"Try again."
"Seriously?"
"Yes," he folded his arms. "I want an actual apology from you, an actual I'm sorry. None of that half-arsed rubbish you give everyone else. I'm not everyone else."
"I don't apologise."
"Fine," Regulus shrugged. "I'll just go ask Theya for the details of that dream you had about me and Sirius in second year."
"You can't adopt Theya's blackmail tactics," she groaned. "I can't handle two of you. Also, I might kill her for telling you about that."
"Ariadne told me, actually. But that's not the point. I need an apology this time and I'm not going to back down."
Ivy glared at him. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" He tried not to crack a smile.
"I'm sorry for the way I handled things on the train."
"And?"
"And what?"
"For asking Sirius to protect me," Regulus prompted her. "Merlin, you really have no idea how to make an apology, do you?"
"Shut up," she rolled her eyes. "I'm not sorry about that."
"Why not?" He felt his temper flare.
"Because," Ivy levelled him with a defiant look. "I won't apologise for wanting you to be safe; I'll do whatever it takes to protect you and everyone else I love. If that embarrasses you, then I suggest you get over it."
"I don't need you to beg Sirius to protect me, alright? It's emasculating."
"Letting a girl protect you?"
"No! I just want you to think-" He cut himself short, letting out a frustrated groan.
"You want me to think that you're made of steel?" She asked sarcastically. "That you're the biggest, toughest person to ever walk the earth?"
"Please," he ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. "You're the toughest person I know – and the most bloody frustrating, too, by the way. Emasculating was the wrong word. Patronising is what I should've said. I want you to see me as your equal – and I don't need or want Sirius to defend me."
"That's what this is about?" Ivy stepped closer and took his face in her hands. "Of course, we're equals, Regulus. What it comes down to is that I can't stand the thought of you being abused by your parents all on your own. Maybe it's fucked up, but I'd rather you go through it with someone because I…"
Regulus felt his annoyance lessen.
"I go through it alone," she dropped her hands to her sides. "And I wanted to protect you in a way that I couldn't protect Hazel."
He squinted at her, once again noting the cryptic way she talked about her little sister. It always seemed like she was holding something back and he had a vague idea of what it was. Regulus then made the reckless decision to voice the question that had been lurking in the back of his mind for years.
"How did she really die?"
Ivy's lips parted and she backed away. "I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do," Regulus said in a low tone with a glance at the closed door. "You saw her die, which is why you can see the Thestrals at Hogwarts. She died in the cellar, which, if she died from an illness that had her bedridden for months, there's no reason she'd be down there. And you always talk like you could've done something about her death. You might have everyone else fooled, but like I said, I'm not everyone else."
She was as silent and frighteningly still as winter, staring at him with an unreadable expression.
"You're not everyone else," Ivy eventually said. "But I can't talk about what happened and I need you to respect that."
Regulus knew what he was going to say. But he hesitated, as the Ivy in front of him was loose in the shoulders and watching him with those sharp silver eyes, for once more worried about his response than crafting her own.
"I'll respect that," he finally said.
And just like that, Ivy's posture was back and her face snapped to neutral. He could see her in those depths of silver, retreating behind her barriers and closing him out again.
"At least one of us needs to get onto the Quidditch team this year," Theya said from the loveseat, passing a bottle of Firewhiskey to Severus in his wicker chair. "We've been trying out since second year, it's starting to get embarrassing."
"That's because you're all rubbish," Ariadne smirked. Theya's feet were in her lap and a bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy was in her lap. "At least I knew when to quit."
"Regulus and I are perfectly adequate," Ivy retorted, having taken a seat on the ground beside the warm fire pit. "It's Theya and Severus who should quit."
"Piss off," Severus took a long drink from the Firewhiskey.
"She has a point," Theya snorted. "Neither of us are very good. Besides, she and Regulus are adequate. Not good, just adequate."
"We just need more practice," Regulus said from the other wicker chair, where he was slouched down luxuriously. His long, thin legs were spread and, thanks to the Elderflower wine, Ivy was finding it hard to not think about what she could do between them.
Not that she had any experience.
She made a mental note to get some upon returning to Hogwarts, especially since taking care of things herself usually led to thinking about Regulus.
Regulus took another swig of his Daisyroot Draught. His tongue flicked out to catch a droplet of alcohol from his upper lip and her mind buzzed with ideas of his tongue massaging hers or gliding between her breasts.
"What do you think, Ivy?" Ariadne asked.
She looked sharply at her, feeling her face redden. "What?"
"Do you want to play two truths and a lie?" Theya asked.
"Isn't that a-" Ivy started.
"Muggle game?" Ariadne frowned. "That's what I said."
"Relax," Theya rolled her eyes. "The filthy Muggles aren't going to taint your blood with a little game. Besides, it's quite fun."
Regulus and Severus exchanged a wary look, though they murmured their assent along with Ivy, who was rather curious.
"I don't approve," Ariadne said with pursed lips. "I'm sitting it out."
"Whatever," Theya didn't seem bothered as she proceeded to explain the game. "Everyone understand? Great, I'll go first. Regulus, you're the guesser." She paused to think. "Alright. My first time was with a Hufflepuff, I know three languages, and last week, I met Celestina Warbeck."
"Hmm," Regulus squinted at her. "I'm going to guess that the lie is knowing three languages."
"That's right!"
"Cheers," he took another swig from the bottle and sat up in his chair. "By the way, a Hufflepuff?"
"Yeah," Theya wrinkled her nose. "Edgar Bones."
"Rough," Regulus snorted. "Ivy, you're up. I'm allergic to strawberries. Sirius was born with a third nipple-"
Severus choked on his Firewhiskey and Ariadne snickered.
"-And I'm a fantastic cook."
"There's no way Sirius was born with a third nipple," Ivy said immediately.
Regulus grinned at her.
Everyone erupted into sounds of disbelief and Regulus burst out laughing.
"How-" Ivy stuttered, face scrunched. "Why- how?"
"All the inbreeding," he cringed. "They removed it, of course, but he's got a little scar on his chest that he tells people is from falling off a broom."
As the others chuckled, Ivy eyed Regulus.
"Jeeze, Iv, there's nothing wrong with me," he shifted in his seat.
She nearly told him to prove it before lifting her bottle to eye level. "What's in this stuff? It's making me all… frisky."
"Frisky?" Regulus gave her a flirtatious grin.
"Get a room," Theya giggled.
Ivy glared at her, face burning, while Ariadne took a silent sip of her Brandy.
"Relax," Theya made a face. "Alcohol does that to everyone."
They all bobbed their heads in agreement, though Severus did it while staring at Theya, who proceeded to subtly straighten her back and pull her golden ponytail over her shoulder.
"My turn," Ivy tried not to laugh. "Severus, you're the guesser this time. I used to have a crush on Flitwick, I own five of the same bathrobe, and I had a plan to run away when I was younger."
"Flitwick?" Severus guessed.
Ivy pouted.
"You didn't even try," he rolled his eyes and took another drink from his bottle. "Theya, I'll give you a hard one to show how it's supposed to be done."
"I'm ready," Theya looked as though she was taking the proposition very seriously.
"I can brew Veritaserum, Lupin's a werewolf, and…" Severus cocked his head at Theya. "I haven't stopped thinking about when you kissed me last year."
Ivy sucked in a breath. She wanted to look for Ariadne and Regulus's reactions, but she couldn't tear her eyes from what could very well become one of the worst things she'd ever seen.
"If the first one's a lie," Theya's face was unreadable. "I'd be surprised. The second one could go either way. But if you're lying about the third, I'll say it right now: fuck you."
"I can't brew Veritaserum."
"Hm," she narrowed her eyes at him.
"Thoughts on that?" Severus asked.
The two maintained silent, intense eye contact that made Ivy uncomfortable, but also unnervingly intrigued.
"The fact that you can't brew Veritaserum, or the third thing?" Theya asked.
"The third thing," Severus replied.
"If you can't stop thinking about it," she confidently flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. "I can make it happen again."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah."
"I dare you," Severus leaned forward.
"You think I won't?" Theya shot back.
"Prove me wrong."
"Fine."
Everyone watched silently as the golden-haired witch stood up. She went directly over to Severus and placed her hands on either arm of his chair, leaning down and staring straight into his eyes.
The two started whispering and Ivy suddenly didn't want to watch anymore.
"So, um," Regulus cleared his throat. "I guess the game's over."
"Yeah, er…" Ivy's face was red. "Why don't we just… Drink some more?"
"Please," Regulus began chugging his Daisyroot Draught.
Ivy followed suit, downing her Elderflower wine with a glance at Severus and Theya.
When she noticed that Theya had begun straddling Severus's lap with his hands on her arse as they passionately snogged, Ivy choked on her drink.
Forcing a quick recovery, she looked at Ariadne eagerly.
Ever the prude, Ariadne had a horrified look on her face and had turned so far around in her chair that she was facing the other direction. She was also chugging her bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy, looking determined to forget what was happening, either by ignorance or alcohol.
Ivy was shaken awake in one of the wicker chairs, feeling a hand on her shoulder. The warm melody from the record player reached her ears and she opened her eyes blurrily to see that the sky was still dark and Regulus was leaning over her. He looked more sober than a few hours prior when he'd been guzzling Firewhiskey, jumping over the firepit, and yelling into the night.
She remembered thinking that he was more like Sirius than he knew.
"What?" Ivy whined.
"Come dance with me," Regulus cracked a smile.
"I'm sleeping," she murmured. "You tosser."
"Come on."
"Ugh," she groaned but stretched out her limbs. Standing, she noted that they were the only ones awake. Ariadne had passed out in the other wicker armchair and was snoring gently, while Theya and Severus had fallen asleep together on the sofa. "You're lucky you have a pretty face or I'd hex it."
"You're sweet," Regulus pulled her close. "You really have such delicate sensibilities."
He placed a hand on her hip and took her left hand, while her right looped beneath his arm to hold his shoulder blade. She rested her head on his chest, ignoring the fact that half her hair had come out of its bun.
"If there's anything I'm not," Ivy muttered. "It's delicate."
"You're not wrong." He paused. "Guess we know how to get Severus to open up. Alcohol."
"I know," she laughed quietly. "That was shocking. Maybe next time, he'll even talk about his parents in more than one sentence. I don't even know if he's pureblood."
"He's a halfblood."
"You're alright with that?" Ivy pulled back to look at him quizzically.
"Yes," he said defiantly. "He's my best mate."
She almost kissed him. Almost. "I'm not your best mate?"
"Well, yes, but you're also not."
"Thanks," Ivy said, a little offended.
"Don't look at me like that, you know what I mean. Am I your best mate?"
"Yes."
"Don't let Theya hear you say that."
"You're both my best mates. Severus too, most of the time."
"And Ariadne?"
"The same."
Regulus tugged her a little closer to whisper in her ear. "She's one of your best mates? You're nicer to her than you used to be, but you still talk to her about as much as before the Boggarts."
Now that he was bringing it up, she realised he was right; she put effort into all of her friendships except for the one she had with Ariadne. Ivy found her uptight, sure, but she still cared for her. If anything, she was being neglectful as opposed to malicious.
"Like I said after the Boggarts," she sighed. "I've been a shitty friend. I should put the work in and I've been meaning to. It just seems like something more pressing always comes up when I have a moment to think about it… But I suppose if she ever plans to get her Dark Mark, we'd be the ones to help her. She doesn't get along with Severus quite as well – which I find odd, considering how similar they are."
"Wait, back up," Regulus pulled away to look at her. "You're still planning on going through with it? Getting the Mark?"
"Yes," Ivy replied, taken aback.
"Oh," his grip on her hip tightened. "I just thought after we talked about it –you know, that day we've skived off- you might've changed your mind."
"Do you…" Ivy was suddenly wide awake. "Not want me to get it?"
Regulus was silent and looking at an unfixed point over her shoulder.
"Why don't you want me to get it?" She prompted with a glance at their sleeping mates.
"Because getting it… It's not what you think it's going to be."
Ivy leaned in close to his ear. "Do you regret it?"
Regulus's voice was barely a whisper. "Yes."