Black Flies by Ben Howard
I don't wanna beg your pardon
And I don't wanna ask you why
But if I was to go my own way
Would I have to pass you by?
September 16th, 1977
"Where have you been?" Theya talked around a mouthful of steak and kidney pie.
"Divination study group," Ivy said from behind two fifth years who were sitting across from Theya at the Slytherin table. She put a hand on her hip, staring down the back of their dark-haired heads.
Josiah Zabini, who looked startlingly like his sister -all dark hair, dark eyes, and illustrious looks- glanced back at her nervously. Augustus Rookwood, on the other hand, looked back at her with disdain. That was, until they made eye contact, at which point his eyes widened and he slid aside to make room.
"We ran long," Ivy added to Theya as she sat down. "That Dorcas Meadowes sure can talk."
While Dorcas -nicknamed Doe- was about as reserved as Regulus, the girl had seemingly endless knowledge of Divination. Not only was Ivy finding her a great resource, but she genuinely liked her. Not that she could say so, considering the Ravenclaw was best mates with Alice Fortescue and Emmeline Vance, both of whom had ties to a certain Gryffindor circle she avoided.
"I've never found her very chatty," Theya said sceptically.
"Maybe she doesn't like you," Ivy smirked, loading her plate up with roast and potatoes.
"Everyone likes me," she scoffed. "You, on the other hand, rub everybody the wrong way. I can't tell you the number of times I've been asked why I hang around with you."
"What do you tell people?"
"I usually say that you pay me."
Ivy snorted and cast a quick glance down the table.
Everyone she cared to keep track of was accounted for, except their greasy-haired friend. Shifting to peer at the Gryffindor table, she located Potter and Evans, who were wearing their Head Boy and Girl badges. Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew were also present, which meant Severus was probably just running late.
Turning back around, Ivy looked sidelong down the table at where Regulus and Ariadne sat with Vivienne Parkinson and Adrian Mulciber.
Wanting a longer look, she watched the foursome out of the corner of her eye under the guise of trying to crack her neck. Ariadne was fixing Regulus's tie, which invoked a surge of envy. But after twisting in her seat and successfully cracking her back, which allowed her a better view, she was able to face front again feeling satisfied.
"What?" Theya's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why do you look happy?"
Ivy gave a slight jerk of her head in the direction of the not so happy couple.
"He looks bloody miserable!" Theya grinned. "Serves him right for not talking to us the entire summer."
"Can you believe him?" She shook her head. "A right liar he is, saying he couldn't find a single owl in all of Italy. The least he could do is not insult our intelligence."
Hearing a scuffling sound, Ivy turned to see Severus giving a nasty look to Rookwood, who scowled and slid further down the bench. Tossing his bag under the table, Severus made a move to sit beside Ivy but stopped, his attention caught by something down the table. She leaned back to see that Regulus had raised a hand in greeting, waving him over.
Severus gave him a small nod of recognition before sitting beside her.
"Like I'm going to go over there and talk to Zabini," Severus scoffed, grabbing a dinner roll.
"I give it a month before he loses his mind entirely," Theya resumed the assault on her dinner.
"I give it a week," he said dryly. "I can barely stand fifteen minutes with her. She's a total nutcase - you know she tried to fix my tie earlier in Herbology? I had to move to the other side of the room."
Josiah, who sat to Ivy's left, let out a laugh, though he tried to cover it up as a cough.
"No, I think he'll last a month," Theya said. "Bloke's got an iron will… Y'know, since he's not around much, he's pretty much taken Ariadne off our hands. I might thank him."
"She's not that bad," Ivy grabbed a potato and cut it open, slathering it with butter. "Uptight and a total prude, sure, but she's not entirely insufferable."
Josiah choked on his food at the same time that Severus and Theya burst into riotous laughter. The sound was loud enough that multiple classmates and staff members shot annoyed looks at them.
Ivy pounded a fist against Josiah's back until he waved a hand, indicating he was recovered.
"You weren't really around when she started dating Regulus," Theya dabbed at her eyes, still laughing a little. "If you remember what she was like before, multiply that by ten."
Ivy started, horrorstruck. "Why'd you keep her around then? Who was it scolding me for being a pratt to her years ago?"
"We still liked Regulus," Severus explained. "But wherever he went, she was right there nipping at his heels."
"Also," Theya added. "In my defence, I was telling you to be nice before she became a total loon. If she's attempting to fix Severus's tie, well, she's gone absolutely barmy, hasn't she?"
"You've got a point," Ivy conceded.
"Besides," she went on. "You should've heard the kind of stuff she was saying about you last year. Believe me, you're better off without her."
"What did she say?"
"All sorts of stuff," Severus grimaced.
"And neither of you defended me?"
"I was really upset with you," Theya looked ashamed. "But I should've. I mean, sometimes she was downright vicious."
"Well?" Ivy glanced between her and Severus. "What did she say about me?"
Theya shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
"Come on," Ivy whined. "You have to tell me."
"It's just that…" Theya sighed. "I can't remember half of what she said, and the stuff that I do remember…"
"She called you a cunt on multiple occasions." Severus interjected. "Amongst other things. Annoying, ugly, and a total slag," he mimicked. "Were the most memorable."
Ivy was surprised by the sting of betrayal she felt, but tried to comfort herself with the reminder that out of all her friendships, Ariadne's was the one she cared about least. Besides, ever since Regulus told her that she was like Bellatrix, nothing had come close to that kind of emotional wound.
"This summer," Josiah piped up, voice wavering a bit. "Ariadne told me that you poisoned your sister and that's why she died."
Now that came close.
"She what?" Theya looked at him sharply, setting her fork down. "She what?"
"I heard that as well," Rookwood said from his seat on Severus's right. "It doesn't seem like any of the Slytherins believe it, since we all know she's full of shite, but everybody else…"
Ivy peered down the table at Ariadne contemplatively.
"Severus," she said wistfully. "Would you help me concoct a potion? You'd have to start from scratch; I know three of the ingredients and the effect I need it to have but nothing else about how to make it work. I can be the test subject."
"Is it for Ariadne?" Severus asked. "If so, you don't have to ask me twice."
"No, this is unrelated," Ivy told him honestly, her gaze passing Ariadne to rest on Regulus. "I already know what I'm going to do to Ariadne. I want the humiliation to really sink in, so I need to time it right."
"What do you have planned?" Theya inquired.
"I think I'll keep that to myself for now," Ivy smiled. "Severus, what do you think? Help me with the potion?"
"What do I get in return?"
"Friendship."
"Try again."
"Alright," Ivy pondered her options and looked over at Potter and Evans. "How about I knock the Head Boy off his broom at the Quidditch match in November?"
"I can't believe I didn't make the team," Theya said gloomily. "Again."
Ivy and Regulus's Quidditch dreams had finally come true the previous weekend when Regulus made Seeker and Ivy became a Beater. As far as Theya went, well, she'd never been very skilled on a broom.
"You and Regulus both made Prefect this year," Ivy pointed out. "That'll matter more for your future career goals than Quidditch."
"Please," Theya huffed. "We were only made Prefects because Lucinda Talkalot wanted to focus on being Quidditch Captain, and Frederick Avery got caught putting all that Frog Spawn Soap in the Prefect's Bathroom."
"Whatever," Ivy waved her off. "Severus. What do you think? Want to see Potter fall through thin air, maybe break a bone or two?"
"Yes," Severus was staring at Potter and Evans, his face tight. "As a matter of fact, I do."
"This book is a joke," Ivy yawned from the alcove in between her and Theya's beds. "There's no way it was written by someone who understands Divination."
"What book?" Theya asked without looking up from the Transfiguration text sitting open on her bed. She was lying on her stomach, propped up by her elbows, in the otherwise empty Dormitory.
"Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst is Coming."
"You're obsessed, you know that? You've already read this year's Divination textbook, what, four times?"
"Only three," Ivy snapped the book shut and tossed it carelessly onto her nightstand. She would finish reading it in case there was any hint as to why she was the way she was, but she doubted she would find anything useful.
"And you spent how many Galleons on books when we went to Diagon Alley?"
"That's none of your business," she replied snidely.
Theya laughed, rolling over onto her back and stretching out like a sleepy cat.
With a shake of her head, Ivy turned to gaze out the window. Theya was right that she had spent far too much money on Divination books before the start of term. She was also right that Ivy's interest in the subject had turned into something of an obsession. After all, she had asked Severus to make her a potion containing rue, dragon claw, and salamander blood so that she could heighten her senses like Could told her to.
Do not seek me out, she had said. I will find you when you need me.
Those words frustrated and confused her to no end. If this strange reflection wanted her to prevent thousands of deaths, not seeking help made little sense. Not to mention, she was a sixth year now, which meant she had access to the Hogwarts psychomanteum and could thus reach out to Could all the time.
So why was she told not to?
It then occurred to her that she could've bought a scrying mirror over the Summer Holiday.
Heaving a sigh, her eyes came back into focus. While she could see next to nothing out the window, her reflection was clear as day. The absence of the Thestral pin stuck out like a sore thumb and brought down her mood significantly. It didn't seem like Regulus had figured out the hint she'd dropped the year before: occulta tenebris. Or, worse, he had read the book and didn't care about the chapter she had circled - the one describing how it had once been legal for pureblood families to dispose of their Squib children.
Using her reflection to let her hair down, she caught Theya staring at her, her head propped up on an elbow. She was opening and closing her mouth like she wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words.
"What?" Ivy turned to her, wrapping the black ribbons around her wrist like a bracelet so she wouldn't lose them in the night.
"You know you can talk to me about her, right?" Theya glanced at the ribbons.
"About who?" Ivy frowned.
"Hazel."
She froze as a bright green light flashed before her eyes, fading to show the outline of a dead child. Her tiny arm was still bleeding where SQUIB had been carved into her flesh.
Ivy's fingers tightened around the black ribbons she had been winding about her arm. Slowly, she finished wrapping them around her slender wrist and tied them absently.
"I want to hear about her," Theya said softly.
She looked up, though she didn't see the golden-haired witch. Hazel was still swimming before her eyes, laughing joyfully on their secret swing, then crying out in pain as their parents beat her.
"It's been so long," she murmured, sitting on the edge of her bed. "That I can't remember what she looked like."
Theya moved from her bed to Ivy's, where she gripped her hand tightly.
"She had ash blonde hair," she continued slowly. "And blue eyes. But her face… It's gone. I've tried to remember it, but there aren't any photos. They erased her like she never even existed."
Theya reached up, wiping away a tear from Ivy's face.
"Sometimes I think she didn't exist," she murmured dazedly. "Like I was unhappy with where my life was headed, so I conjured her to fix it."
"What do you mean?" Theya asked gently. "Ivy, I need to ask, did-"
Boisterous laughter sounded beyond their closed Dormitory door, which promptly swung open.
Snapping out of her haze, Ivy stood and turned to face the window.
Crossing her arms, she subtly wiped her face dry, listening to their dormmates toss their bags aside and chat animatedly to one another. Waiting for the redness in her eyes to go away, she remained where she was, watching Theya in the window.
She was still sitting on Ivy's bed, staring like she was seeing Ivy for the first time.
October 14th, 1977
Ivy ran down the corridor, her heavy school bag thwacking against her back as she went. Upon rounding a corner, she landed on her ankle wrong and let out a torrent of curse words. Limping the rest of the way, she stopped just before the Potions classroom. Holding her side in pain while simultaneously trying to hush her wheezing, she leaned against the stone wall to shake out her ankle.
"Ms. Selwyn!"
Looking back where she had come, Professor McGonagall was storming down the corridor.
Letting out a squeak, she ducked into the classroom and hurriedly shut the door. Taking a moment to breathe and hear that the class was still chatting amongst themselves, she realised that her hair was coming loose from its bun. Before she could fix her ribbons, she locked eyes with McGonagall, whose face was in the window of the door, staring at her contemptuously.
Ivy stuck her tongue out.
The door swung open.
"I had hoped having two Prefects around would straighten out your behaviour," McGonagall looked down her nose at her. "Evidently, I was incorrect. That's detention, Ms. Selwyn. I expect you in the Detention Chamber tonight at five o'clock sharp. And don't even think about stepping foot in Hogsmeade this weekend."
So much for her date with Frederick.
The door slammed shut in her face and Ivy flipped it off once the Professor had gone.
Irritated, she turned round to find the class watching her. Ignoring them, she took her seat beside Theya at the table next to Regulus and Ariadne.
"You're late, Ms. Selwyn," Slughorn told her jovially, as though tardiness was part of her impish charm. "As such, can you tell me what ingredients are used to make the Elixir to Induce Euphoria?"
"Nope," Ivy told him blandly, procuring an ink bottle, parchment, and textbook from her bag.
"Tsk tsk," Slughorn shook his head in disappointment. "Who can tell me the answer?"
Ariadne's hand shot in the air.
Ivy was distracted from hearing her answer when Theya slid a piece of parchment over to her.
What was all that about? -TMG
She glanced up at Slughorn before dipping her quill in the ink bottle.
I was trying to jinx a fourth year and almost hit McGonagall instead. -IES
You'd think she would have something better to do. Like, say, teach Transfiguration. Why were you trying to jinx a fourth year? -TMG
The little rat put a Dungbomb in my bag. -IES
The class started buzzing with excited chatter and Ivy looked up, unsure of what she had missed. Upon making eye contact with Theya, she could tell her mate was equally as clueless.
"Excellent!" Slughorn clapped his hands together loudly. "Now, if you turn to page 76 in your copies of Advanced Potion-Making, you will find the recipe for the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. May the best potioneer win!"
Towards the end of class, Ivy had found out that winning entailed receiving a small phial of Felix Felicis. She had also managed to brew something inexplicable; it was some sort of black, lumpy substance that smelled like wet dog.
Stirring it tentatively as her bun fell further out of place, she tried to figure out where she had gone wrong. Leaning over the lightly steaming substance, she was doubting that it was still salvageable when her hair slid completely out of place.
It went loose and her black ribbons slipped directly into the cauldron.
Letting out a sound of horror, she made to stick her hand in the stinky potion.
Slughorn appeared by her side and grabbed her wrist. "Dear girl, you should have told me immediately when your potion turned this colour! You stick your hand in there and it'll dissolve your skin right off! What were you trying to do?"
"My-" She swallowed. "My ribbons fell in."
Theya and Regulus gasped.
Ariadne gasped as well, mockingly, and the room filled with giggles.
"I will be dumbfounded if this works," Slughorn ignored the class. "Accio ribbons!"
No ribbons came flying out.
"As I thought," he sighed, tucking his wand away. "Disintegration. Potions in such a state as this will dissolve most anything."
Ivy let out a strangled sound.
"Come now," Slughorn chuckled nervously and slapped a meaty hand on her back. "I'm sure you can afford new ones, eh? Now why don't you clean that out before anything else falls in? You as well, Ms. Greengrass."
The Potions Master gave a nod and wandered off to check on other students' progress.
Numb, Ivy slid her wand out from up her sleeve, giving a wobbly "Scourgify!"
The potion cleared out, vanishing into thin air, and Ivy fell into her seat, staring at the side of the cauldron without seeing it. Theya didn't bother cleaning hers out and pulled her chair closer to Ivy's.
"What can I do?" She asked quietly.
"Bring my sister back from the dead," Ivy muttered bitterly.
"Iv," came another voice.
She looked up to see Regulus drawing black ribbons out of the cauldron.
Leaping from her seat, she snatched them out of his hands. Holding them tight against her chest, she soaked in the relief momentarily, before flinging her arms around his neck.
Letting go before he had the chance to, she began tying her hair back up. "What did you do?"
"Yes, Mr. Black, what did you do?" Slughorn looked astonished from where he stood in front of Mary MacDonald's potion.
"I didn't do anything," Regulus headed back to his seat beside Ariadne, who was giving Ivy the nastiest look.
"Unless, Ms. Selwyn," Slughorn said contemplatively. "You had a N.E.W.T. level enchantment placed on those, I can't imagine what would keep them intact. That sludge you brewed up could've disintegrated metal."
"They were enchanted," Ivy lied.
"That's too bad," Slughorn turned back to Mary MacDonald's sunshine yellow potion. "Ribbons like those would have made an excellent Christmas gift for my niece."
Ivy stared at Theya, who raised her brows.
She responded with a bewildered look.
Plopping back into her seat, she spent the last few moments of class in addled silence. Neither she nor Theya clapped when Ariadne walked to the front of the room to claim her Liquid Luck.
Ivy entered the Detention Chamber right at the stroke of five.
Professor Flitwick stood at the front of the rectangular room in front of roughly twenty students, who had already begun polishing ornate candelabra. They had formed little groups and were talking quietly to one another. Flitwick either didn't hear the murmurs, or didn't care to try and stop them.
She was surprised to find that she recognized many faces. Sirius, Alice Fortescue, and Frank Longbottom were sitting with Doe, engaged in seemingly pleasant conversation. Hufflepuffs Dirk Cresswell and Edgar Bones, however, looked miserable, as Gilderoy Lockhart, a third year, chatted their ears off.
"Ms. Selwyn," Flitwick beckoned her.
Scowling, she walked over and held out her right arm.
The Professor poked her outstretched limb with his wand three times before nodding in dismissal.
Grabbing a candelabrum and cotton cloth, she dawdled, unsure of where to sit. Doe was waving her over with an eager smile, but the Gryffindors accompanying her looked put out by the invitation. Ivy shook her head, but the girl continued gesturing frantically, which was starting to catch other students' attention.
Ivy headed over reluctantly.
"Why did you do that?" She heard Sirius hiss as she arrived.
She left an empty seat between herself and the group to feel like she wasn't part of it. Doe, however, moved next to Ivy so the empty chair separated the two of them from the Gryffindors. Sirius and Longbottom grumbled under their breath and Doe fixed them with an indignant, unrelenting stare.
Ivy was surprised when they quieted guiltily. She hadn't realised Doe was held in such high regard that she could stifle the age-old Gryffindor hatred of Slytherins. The power in it reminded her vaguely of Dumbledore.
"Why was Flitwick poking you?" Doe tucked a strand of chin-length reddish-brown hair behind her ear.
"Last year I wanted to skip detention, so I cast a kind of… illusion of myself so it would seem like I was there when I wasn't. It went wrong and now they like to make sure I'm solid."
Doe snorted, then addressed the others without looking up. "Have you all met Ivy?"
"Unfortunately," Sirius scowled, polishing his candlestick with more force than was necessary.
"Never had the pleasure," Longbottom said flatly.
"I don't think so," Fortescue spoke with an air of forced politeness.
Ivy didn't say anything and continued her work on the chunk of metal.
"Well, she knows all of you. I was looking into a crystal ball the other day and saw her saving both your lives," she gestured to Longbottom and Fortescue. "You should be kinder to her, or she may decide not to when the time comes."
The couple looked startled, though they seemed to believe Doe, as their countenances softened a bit. Fortescue even offered Ivy a small smile. With a round face and dimples, Ivy thought smiling looked most natural on her.
"Divination is a load of rubbish," Sirius scoffed, standing up. He carried his candelabrum to the table where the polished candlesticks had been placed.
Ivy jumped as someone sat beside her in a previously empty chair.
"I hate Mondays," Theya slumped down as she began swiping a cloth so lightly against her candelabrum that it was barely making contact.
"What're you doing here?" Ivy blinked.
"You didn't think I was going to make you suffer alone, didja? Although, if I'd known how much company you were going to have…" She sounded regretful as Sirius came back to the table. "Anyway, hey Doe. Sirius. Alice. Frank."
They all murmured greetings back to her.
Feeling a tingling sensation in her shoulders, Ivy released a low groan. "Theya, it's happening again."
As if on cue, both her arms went limp and slid off the table. Using her legs to scooch her chair closer to the table, she sighed. Theya snickered, placing Ivy's arms back onto the wooden surface. She set the cloth in her left hand and put Ivy's fingers on the base of the candlestick to make it look like she was still working.
"Is she okay?" Fortescue was wide-eyed.
"She's fine," Theya waved her off. "This has been going on for weeks."
"Why, exactly?' Doe snickered.
"She's, um," Theya rubbed her lips together. "Experimenting."
"Experimenting with what?" Sirius narrowed his eyes.
"Nothing that concerns you," Ivy told him coolly – or, as coolly as she could while having arms that functioned like overcooked noodles.
The limpened limbs would have been worth the trouble if the potion Severus was making for her had the desired effect. But she hadn't had a single mirror dream since the summer -if she had, she couldn't remember it- nor had any of her other Divination senses heightened.
"She's experimenting with potions," Theya said, as Longbottom and Fortescue got up to exchange their candelabrum with unpolished versions.
Ivy shot her a filthy look.
If anyone knew she was making her own potions, that could lead them to finding out about the curse she was actually making. And that would be calamitous for her. Especially since she was so close to making it work. The curse had been on her mind for years, but only now did she have the ability and resources to construct it.
"What?" Theya frowned. "It's not like you're doing anything wrong. You're being pretty damn stupid, sure, but no one can punish you for being thick."
Doe laughed quietly.
"Is that why you fell off your broom on the Quidditch Pitch the other day?" Sirius sneered. "Because your arms went all… jellified?"
"What were you doing watching Slytherin Quidditch practice?" Ivy squinted at him, successfully making her finger twitch.
"Strategizing, obviously."
"You should really find better things to occupy your time," Longbottom remarked, having arrived with Fortescue at his side, both holding unpolished candlesticks.
"Say," Theya eyed the couple as they sat down. "What are the two of you doing in detention, anyway? I've never seen either of you so much as show up late to class."
"Ask him," Fortescue nodded in Sirius's direction.
"They may have been caught out after hours," Sirius said sheepishly. "Because I told them someone was hurt, when really I just wanted to play tag."
"Tag?" Theya looked at him oddly. "Why?"
"I may or may not have been supremely inebriated."
"Never seen him that drunk," Longbottom said.
"Nor had I ever wanted to," Fortescue smiled playfully at Sirius.
"Hey," Doe whispered to Ivy while the others carried on chatting about Sirius's drunken stupidity. "I've been meaning to ask, what happened when you were in the Hospital Wing last year?"
"Well, I got in a fight and-"
"No," Doe cut her off with an apologetic smile. "I mean, I saw you enter the psychomanteum during that time. Or, I saw something like you enter."
"I was in the Wing the entire time," she frowned.
"I'm sure your body was," Doe glanced at the others, who had forgotten them for the time being. "But some other part of you went in there - I've been wondering how you did it."
Ivy hesitated, thinking how that was the first night she consciously remembered having a mirror dream. It didn't seem likely or possible that any part of her could've ventured away. Unless the piece of her soul in her ring had gone… But how could it have gained a corporeal form?
"I don't know," she said earnestly. "I had a dream that day about the psychomanteum but I haven't the slightest idea how I could've actually gone."
"Hm," Doe looked disappointed. "Well, if you remember anything, let me know. I'd do anything to be able to travel like that."
Somehow, Ivy didn't think that was true.