Violent by carolesdaughter

You say you miss me, so then I drive back to you

I drive back to you

Petals off of flowers, did you ever really love me?

Now my nose is filled with powder

And I think that she's still lovely, oh no

April 1st, 1977

Clad in a black long-sleeved gown, Ivy watched Rodolphus Lestrange -who had captured Slughorn's attention- out of the corner of her eye while she chatted with Barnabas Cuffe. A goblet of spiked pumpkin juice in hand, she smiled politely as the older wizard droned on about how he was expecting to become editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet any day now.

A house elf holding a silver platter of food neared her and she snagged a tart as they passed. Nibbling on it, she simultaneously let out a fake laugh as Cuffe told a joke that barely merited a huff of air through the nose.

Keeping an eye out for Rodolphus, she stole a glance about Slughorn's office, thinking that it was hardly the right size for an Easter Holiday party. The room was small and thus cramped, as witches and wizards of various ages engaged in conversations that she was sure were far more interesting than the one she was currently stuck in.

Although compact, the room was lavishly decorated, with violet, gold, and indigo drapes covering the walls. Multiple adults were huffing on pipes, adding to the lingering sheet of smoke hanging in the room, which was highlighted by the medium gold lighting. Vibrant music played by enchanted instruments came from a corner of the room, near where Regulus and Severus stood.

Ivy gave a polite comment where it was needed in between Cuffe's sentences, which unfortunately caused the intoxicated man to continue. He spoke loudly, which made her wonder whether he was trying to impress her or the whole room with his tale of being chased by a hag.

Eyes wandering out of boredom, she noted that Theya and Evans were still vying for Wendy Slinkhard's attention a few metres away. The only others she recognized in the room were Dirk Cresswell and Adrian Cense, who seemed to be engaged in some form of animated debate.

Waiting impatiently for Cuffe to finish his story, Ivy excused herself when Slughorn joined them. Thankfully, as both men were properly inebriated, they didn't appear to notice or care when she announced her departure.

Weaving through groups of partygoers, she made her way to the far side of the room where Severus had been glued to the wall for the entirety of the night, looking uncomfortable and out of place in his shabby black dress robes. Regulus, who was wearing far sleeker blue robes that obnoxiously reminded her of what was beneath them, was saying something to Severus, who snorted into his goblet.

Upon reaching them, she paid no mind to Regulus, knowing he would do the same to her, and spoke directly to Severus. "Refill?"

Severus gave a nod, tilting his goblet towards her.

Ivy glanced over her shoulder before reaching under her dress to retrieve the enchanted green, sparkly flask that was strapped to her thigh alongside her wand. Taking her time in putting down her dress since Regulus was still present, she poured into Severus's goblet and drained her own.

"You know if you stand there any longer," she said to Severus, refilling her goblet. "Someone's going to suspect you're up to something."

"You've got a point," Severus smirked at her before walking directly to the other side of the room, where he pressed his back up against a violet-draped wall.

Fuck, she thought, narrowing her eyes after him. She knew he was tired of Regulus and Theya avoiding her, as it forced him to be a strange sort of wingman, but this was just about the worst way he could make it evident.

"Why do you still wear it?" Regulus asked, startling her since she'd expected him to already be gone.

"Wear what?" Ivy frowned, taking another long drink from her ornamental goblet as she knew she was going to need a drink to get through the conversation. If their talk lasted as long as a conversation.

"The pin."

A hand instinctively went up to touch the Thestral adorning her bun and she decided not to answer his question. "Talking to me again, are you? Think you could give Theya the message?"

"I can leave if you'd like," he made a move to do so.

"Wait," she caught him by the wrist. "Occulta tenebris."

"Huh?" He sounded more confused than angry, which was a surprise considering anger was the usual expression he wore when she was nearby.

"That's all you get since you've been ignoring me for two months," she lowered her voice. "All I wanted to say was that I miss you."

"Is that so?" Nothing about his expression gave away how he felt about her words.

"Yes."

His dark eyes moved over her shoulder and his brow furrowed.

She turned in time to see a flash of auburn hair leaving through the entrance, followed by Severus. Theya stood a metre away, looking heartbroken.

"Shite," Ivy and Regulus said at the same time.

No longer paying attention to Regulus, she watched as Theya's lower lip quivered. The golden-haired witch then looked around the room, momentarily locking eyes with Ivy, though the second she did, she fled the party as well.

"Give me some of that pumpkin juice," Regulus said suddenly. "And maybe I'll consider talking to you again."

"You hate pumpkin juice."

"The offer is about to rescind," he glared.

Ivy filled his goblet to the brim and watched him head towards the entrance, throwing the drink back as he did.

Attempting to follow him, she was stopped in her tracks almost immediately by Rodolphus, who moved directly in her path. Backing away quickly, she smiled politely, meeting his electric blue eyes.

"What do we have here?" Rodolphus took the flask from her, an item which she'd entirely forgotten she was holding. He sniffed it, smirking. "Clever. Doesn't even smell of alcohol."

"I don't have the faintest idea what you mean. I prefer my pumpkin juice with nutmeg, so I bring my own."

"It'd make more sense to just bring nutmeg," he said teasingly.

If Ivy didn't know better, she would have thought he was flirting with her.

"You've been dodging me all night," Rodolphus squinted. "What's the matter, Selwyn?"

"Just trying to be a good little socialite." It was half true, but her words came out sarcastic. "If you'd excuse me, I think one of my friends needs me."

"I suspect Regulus has it handled."

"I suspect he doesn't," she stepped around him.

"Little grumpy for a socialite, aren't you?" Rodolphus stood in her way again with a grin. "I want to know what you did."

She stepped back again despite the pleasant smell of his cologne. "What do you mean?"

Rodolphus tugged on his sleeve and she realised he was referring to the sheer material over her arms that covered her unmarked left forearm.

Oh, hell no.

"You wouldn't believe how long it took," she huffed in exasperation. "Combination of magical makeup, a Concealment Charm, and a modified Disillusionment Charm. The effect only lasts five hours and the process takes nearly as long."

Apparently buying it, he looked disappointed. "No quick and easy fix, huh?"

"I'll be sure to let you know should I find one."

Rodolphus handed her the flask. "I'll let you get back to your friend, then."

Ivy smiled, tucking the flask under an arm as she departed from the party, which seemed to be the trend of the night. Stepping into the corridor, she shut the door behind herself and looked about. Standing still as to listen for signs of where Theya and Regulus had run off to, she was only met with silence.

In all likelihood, she could find them if she tried. But scouring the castle for people who would be livid if she found them didn't seem like a good option. It tested her restraint, since everything in her wanted to comfort Theya, but the fact remained; Ivy was unwanted.

Regulus found Theya in an alcove a few corridors away from the party, sitting on the edge of a windowsill. Tears streaked her face and her head was tilted back as she took gulp after gulp from a twinkly, gold flask. Peeking out from beneath her purple dress, he could see that her feet were bare, her heels having been cast down the corridor.

Taking a seat on the windowsill as Theya silently made room, still going at it with the flask, he undid his bowtie and waited. When she finally came up for air, she only took a deep breath before tilting her head back again. The action was momentary, as she then held the flask upside down over a palm and shook it rigorously.

"Of course," she sighed, setting it in her lap.

"Here," Regulus passed her his nearly empty goblet.

She took a sip and looked at him with surprise. "Where'd you get this?"

"Ivy."

"Should've known. Nutmeg. Flask strapped to her thigh?"

"How'd you know?"

"Who do you think taught her that little trick? Not that I've ever actually seen her use it."

Indeed, Ivy had never been a big drinker. It made him annoyingly worried that she'd recently started coming to class smelling like Firewhiskey.

"Why were you talking to her?" Theya asked resentfully.

"To get alcohol."

"You know, I can't call her a bitch if you won't tell me what she did to you. I mean, I can, and I will, but it would be easier to be mad on your behalf if I knew what happened."

"You're avoiding talking about Severus," he replied, fully aware of his own hypocrisy. "What happened?"

"What always happens with Severus," Theya said vaguely. "Why am I always the one crying after events like this?"

"Couldn't tell you."

She pressed her lips together. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"That's fine, we'll drink ourselves into a stupor instead."

"Cheers," she downed the remaining liquid, then waved that goblet at him. "Don't think you were supposed to take this from the party."

"Slughorn's sloshed. I doubt he'll miss it."

"Fair point. He called me Feya earlier."

"Did you see him knock over Wendy Slinkhard?" Regulus chuckled. "Last I saw her, she looked pissed and ready to never attend his parties again."

"How do you feel about joining me in that line of thought?"

"Can't. Need to keep up appearances." It was a lie, but he wasn't very well going to tell her that seeing Ivy brought him a sense of comfort. After all, the notion made him furious.

"We Slytherins and our appearances," she sighed. "Wonder what it must be like to be a 'Puff."

"Miserable, I'd expect," he grinned. "What are they good at, really? Finding things? I can do that without wearing yellow."

"Got something against yellow?"

"It washes me out."

Theya barked out a laugh. "Oh, yes, you prefer to mope about wearing all black."

"I don't mope about," he protested.

"Recently, you have been."

"So have you."

There was a moment of silence.

"New topic," he grumbled, irritated at how easy it was to lead the conversation back to Ivy.

"Agreed."

Regulus hadn't noticed how intertwined the three of their lives were until he started ignoring Ivy. If he were being entirely honest, things felt unnatural without her. Especially when it was just him, Theya, and Ariadne. Ariadne was… decent in group settings, but she lacked the spark Ivy always carried about with her.

It was beyond frustrating how much he missed her.

"I say," he released a long breath. "We go back to the Commons and find more alcohol."

"That's the best idea I've heard in weeks."