Violent by carolesdaughter
Don't make me get violent
I want my ring back, baby, that's a diamond
You don't listen anyways, I'll be quiet
I don't really feel like fighting
Don't make me get violent
November 3rd, 1977
If Regulus had to listen to one more lengthy, in-depth conversation about the shine of Ariadne's hair compared to Vivienne Parkinson's, he was going to lose his mind. The afternoon light let in by the Great Hall's windows revealed to him a complete lack of difference.
"There's a potion for that, you know," Ariadne spoke as though she was telling a deeply protected secret. "Not just for making it shinier, but also for making it grow quickly."
"And you never thought to share it with me?" Vivenne ran her fingers through her dark shoulder-length hair, bringing it to eye level for examination. "My hair hasn't grown past this length in years."
"I only discovered it recently," Ariadne whispered. "But I can brew you some if you want."
He took it back – if he had to bear witness to another discussion about anything hair-related, he was going to bash his head against the table.
Even so, he considered himself lucky that they were ignoring him, as there was something distinctly uncomfortable about sitting with two girls he had been with physically. While he and Ariadne had never shagged due to reluctance on his end, he and Vivienne used to go at it every chance they got. Since the girls became close, he'd made multiple unmentionable social blunders regarding the topic, and due to this, they had started edging him out of their conversations.
Regulus couldn't be more grateful.
Tuning them out as best he could, he listened instead to Ezra Wilkes and Adrian Mulciber, who were engaged in their own conversation across the table.
"The Daily Prophet got it wrong if you ask me," Ezra was saying quietly. "That goblin family near Nottingham got what they deserved."
"Only wish I'd been there to help the Dark Lord," Adrian whispered. "Greedy little tossers, can't trust the lot of them."
"They'll get what's coming to them. We'll make sure of that."
Catching Adrian's gaze, Regulus averted his own, feeling disturbed.
Whenever he had to hurt someone for the Dark Lord -which wasn't often since he was in school- he always cast a spell beforehand that eliminated the victim's pain. The idea that they not only enjoyed the pain, but looked forward to it…
Regulus attempted to halt his line of thought, but it was half-hearted. Despite reminding himself of the promise he'd made, again, he couldn't help but observe that his resolve was weakening. Much as he was trying, and he was, his promise was starting to feel flimsy.
As platters of lunchtime cuisine appeared all down the Slytherin table, he took the opportunity to steal a look at Ivy, Theya, Severus, and Frederick. They were clutching their sides, faces red with laughter.
It put a sour taste in his mouth to recall that even Severus had stopped putting up with Ariadne. Regulus had tested his theory multiple times by waiting with his girlfriend outside his best mate's next class. Every time Severus spotted Ariadne, without fail, he turned on a heel and hurried in the opposite direction. Since his girlfriend was omnipresent, he'd barely spoken more than two sentences to him in months.
Scowling, he looked about in search of something appetising and spotted Parmo down by Vivienne, who was on Ariadne's other side.
"Vivienne," Regulus said. "Pass me that, yeah?"
She looked questioningly at Ariadne.
"About that…" Ariadne, much to his chagrin, began loading cooked asparagus onto his plate. "You need to lay off the fatty foods. You're getting pudgy."
"What?" Regulus stared at her. "Why'd you give me that chocolate from Honeydukes, then?"
"I thought you might like to have something sweet before you go on your diet."
"You want to put me on a diet," he echoed, unable to believe what was happening.
"I am putting you on a diet."
Certain he was about five seconds from throttling her, he got to his feet.
"Don't be so dramatic," Ariadne caught his arm. "I just want you to be healthy."
Regulus gave her as nasty a look as he could muster, before yanking his arm away roughly. Stalking between the tables toward the open doors of the Great Hall, he passed his former friends and heard Frederick say something about Zabini's little pet.
Immediately, he whipped round and sent an Instant Scalping Hex in the wanker's direction.
After being given detention, which was a week's worth thanks to his Prefect status, Regulus eventually found himself in the Restricted Section of the Library. A single flash of his Prefect badge had earned him access to books most others needed a note to get their hands on. Now he didn't have to bother sneaking in like the year before. Not that it had been very difficult anyway, considering the only obstacles were Madam Pince and a velvet rope.
Upon reaching the Dark Arts section, he began to browse the various volumes in search of The Secrets of Darkness, the book Ivy had referenced the year before.
After their conversation at the end of fifth year, he hoped the book would give him a clue as to why she was the way she was. Frustrating as she could be, the mystery of her had procured an incessant curiosity in him.
His desperation to understand her had been eating him alive for years.
Ariadne, on the other hand… Well, she was a complete bore. She didn't surprise him or challenge him. More than that, she didn't make him feel that searing jealousy that only came with loving someone so much that it was incomprehensible to think of them with anyone else.
Regulus pulled the cellophane-wrapped chocolate she'd given him from a pocket. Pausing his search to turn the candy over in his palm, it dawned on him that Ariadne was the kind of girl Walburga would want him to marry. In fact, now that he thought about it, his girlfriend was rather like his mother. Less cruel, but equally as controlling and uptight.
Wanting to hurl, he knew where he was going next; to break up with Ariadne.
He unwrapped the half-melted chocolate and popped it into his mouth. Spotting The Secrets of Darkness at the same moment, he swallowed and reached out to pluck the book off the shelf.
November 26th, 1977
Fingers curled around her warm tankard of pumpkin juice, Ivy observed the pub as she waited anxiously for her date to arrive. The place was crowded, as per usual; nearly every table was taken, and the bar was at capacity. A thin veil of smoke sat in the air, making everything a little hazy, and she savoured the relaxing sound of incomprehensible chatter.
The booth where she sat was furthest from the door, so the snug atmosphere wasn't interrupted when the door occasionally swung open, letting in small gusts of wintery breath. The seat beside her held the bulk supply of rue, dragon claw, and salamander blood she'd purchased from J. Pippin's Potions.
After making good on her promise to knock Potter off his broom at the Slytherin versus Gryffindor match -which gave him multiple broken ribs- Severus seemed to be brewing the Divination potion with renewed vigour. His idea was to tweak the recipe until they got the desired effect, at which point he would work out the side effects. The only one she was currently experiencing involved needing the loo every half hour like clockwork. This was much preferred to the prior reaction, which entailed rapid growth of her armpit hair.
Taking a sip of her nutmeg-spiked drink, she was just thankful that the curse she was inventing was coming along nicely. At long last, it was nearly done. Though, finishing it was only the third step in her plan for using it.
Hearing a rustle, she looked up to find Frederick drawing his snow-dusted coat over the back of the chair opposite hers. Setting down a shopping bag in the chair beside his, he grinned at her, dimples making a charmed introduction. When he shook out his strawberry blonde hair, a few flakes of white landed on the table and melted on contact.
"What were you thinking about?" He sat down, unwinding the green and silver scarf from around his neck. "You looked enamoured."
"What I want to do after Hogwarts," she lied smoothly.
"What do you want to do?" He ordered a butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta when she came by, before looking at his date intently.
"Continue the work we've already begun, I suppose."
"Of course, but what career are you interested in?"
Ivy thought for a moment. "I would really like to work in the Department of Mysteries. I've a peculiar interest in death. Or, perhaps more accurately, it has a peculiar interest in me."
"Do tell."
"Well, it follows me."
"How so?" He gave Madam Rosmerta a polite smile when she dropped off his butterbeer, making Ivy smile a little herself. His reaction to the voluptuous barmaid was a nice change in pace, as most everyone, boys and girls alike, ogled the woman to no end.
"I dream about it." She was momentarily unsure of how much to divulge, before remembering that the last thing the Dark Lord would care about was her dreams, in any sense of the word. "Awake or asleep, death is always there, in one form or another."
"What death do you see when you're awake? Aside from the obvious."
She snorted. "Well, it's not always what you would think. I can sense imprints, be it physical or emotional death. It sort of… hangs in the air like smoke."
"You see stuff hanging in the air?"
"Sometimes. Occasionally, I can see it out of the corner of my eye like ash floating away in the wind. It's the same with people. If they're haunted by death, I can usually tell." She paused. "You must think I'm mental."
"Just because I don't understand it doesn't mean it's not real."
Ivy beamed at him.
Everyone she tried to talk to about her Divination senses thought she was losing it, Doe aside. Even Theya, who had always been more apt to listen than Severus or Regulus, didn't put much stock into her words. Nowadays, her hazel eyes glazed over whenever Ivy brought the subject up.
"What about when you're asleep?" Frederick smiled, sipping his butterbeer.
"I see… mirrors."
"Ah, that would explain why you were wanting a scrying mirror. Speaking of…" Frederick set his shopping bag on the table and slid it over to her.
Peering at him around the bag, she raised a brow.
"Just open it," he narrowed his eyes playfully.
Doing as she was told, she pulled a circular black mirror and its stand from the gift bag. The mirror was glossy, heavy, and most definitely expensive. It was one of the most thoughtful gifts she'd ever received.
"This is lovely," Ivy said quietly. "Thank you."
"Anytime," his cheeks reddened.
An unbidden smile came onto her face as she gently placed the gift back in the bag and set it alongside her purchase from J. Pippin's Potions.
"Where did you buy it? I didn't know they sold them in Hogsmeade…" Ivy trailed off as something over Frederick's shoulder caught her eye.
At a nearby table, Regulus was pulling a chair back for Ariadne to sit in. When he sat down across from her, he had a goofy, loving smile on his face. It was the kind of smile that said nothing else existed aside from his companion. When Ariadne reached over and straightened his tie, Ivy waited for the look to fall off his face, but it didn't. If anything, he looked more affectionate.
His dark eyes slid to Ivy for the briefest moment, but he didn't show any signs of even recognizing her.
"Ivy?" Frederick tapped the back of her hand gently. "You alright?"
Nodding silently, she sipped her pumpkin juice, which had gone cold. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs. The idea that he could genuinely love a person like Ariadne was too much for her to handle.
"Regulus really broke your heart, huh?" Frederick sounded more concerned than jealous.
"No," Ivy smiled mirthlessly. "It wasn't his fault. If anything, I broke my own heart."
December 24th, 1977
The world outside looked orange. It was the soft kind of streetlight orange that sometimes got captured between a cloud-filled sky and the snowy ground, turning everything a dark marigold. The Greengrass's Christmas tree, with all its various colours and animate ornaments, was reflected in the window Ivy looked out of. Theya's parents, Sere and Reginald, had long since gone to bed, and huge flakes were falling slowly beyond the frosted pane of glass.
Ivy sighed happily from her chair in the sitting room, which had been turned to face the window. Covered in a grey and white fleece blanket, she pulled it tighter around her curled body and sipped her glass of Daisyroot Draught with a distasteful wince.
Theya looked at her sidelong, but continued humming along with the record player in the corner. Reclined all the way back, her toes stuck out from beneath a matching fleece blanket, and a pillow was propped under her head so she could look out the window. An empty bottle of Firewhiskey sat on the corner of the windowsill.
"Hey Iv," Theya broke the pleasant hour-long silence to sit up. "Have you had a good day?"
"Of course. Why?"
"Because," she hesitated. "There's something I need to talk to you about, and I wanted to make sure you had a good Christmas Eve first."
"Can't it wait 'til tomorrow?"
"It could, but I don't know when we'll be alone enough to talk about it again."
"So serious," Ivy smirked. "Aren't you the one always telling me to watch out for frown lines?"
Theya deadpanned.
"Alright," she knocked back the remainder of her too sweet drink. "Let's hear it."
Theya was still for a long moment, looking nervous, before she reached into the pocket of her plaid pyjamas. Pulling out a folded piece of parchment, she handed it to Ivy with a distinct air of finality.
Unfolding the parchment, her heart stopped upon seeing the word Alternatives.
Ivy didn't need to read any further, as she recognized her childhood scrawl. She had been over the list hundreds of times and knew without looking that there were two-hundred and forty-one items on it.
"Where did you get this?" She breathed.
"At the end of last year," Theya said quietly. "When you got sloshed in our Dormitory, that was sitting next to your trunk. It was the only thing you didn't destroy."
The memory came back to her in such a rush that it made her dizzy. Half a bottle deep and in the midst of rearranging her trunk, she had found the list tucked into a sock she'd outgrown long ago. Finding it had upset her deeply, though not as much as the realisation that she had entirely forgotten it existed.
"I didn't know what it was," Theya continued. "Until I was home for the Holidays."
Stroking a thumb over her handwriting, Ivy pondered how different she was now compared to back then. As a child, she had naturally produced borderline nonsensical scribbles. These days, thanks to Avdima, her script was reflexively readable and pretentious.
More often than not, Ivy couldn't reconcile who she was with who she had been. Would her younger self be proud of who she had become? Would she be disappointed?
"That's why you were asking me about Hazel back in autumn," Ivy finally looked up at her.
"Yeah," Theya smiled sadly. "I never showed the list to anyone. For a while, I couldn't figure out why you became a Death Eater. The only sense I could make of it was that you made peace with your parents murdering her for being a Squib. That it took getting your Dark Mark to second guess it. But then I asked you about Hazel in September and… I know grief when I see it."
"So you… know?" Ivy wrung her wrists anxiously.
"That seeking revenge has been your plan all along?" Theya raised a brow. "I'm afraid so."
"And…?" She held her breath.
Her hazel eyes welled up with tears. "I'm so fucking proud."
"Really?" Ivy let out a shocked laugh.
"Of course! My best mate is the most masterful liar I've ever met! I can't tell you how many times people have called you an arrogant little pureblood shite – that exact phrase, too."
Ivy preened.
"Not to mention," Theya gave her a watery smile. "You've changed everything for me. You-Know-Who's ideologies were always in the background, something I never thought to question, until I stole your list. I obsessed over it all summer. It's horrible that it took your sister's death for us to realise the consequences of it all, but… I want you to know that I'm going to do everything I can to help you."
"You mean it?" Ivy felt hope like she'd never known. "You really mean it?"
"Absolutely. And Ivy?" Theya's voice broke. "It's so lovely to finally meet you."
Choking on tears, Ivy lurched between the two chairs and yanked her into a hug, where they remained for a long time. Only once they were all cried out did they snuggle back into their respective armchairs.
"By the way," Ivy gently poked her puffy eyes. "My parents didn't murder Hazel. They had the Lestranges do it, Bellatrix and Rodolphus. I had dinner with them that night, and not four hours later, they were torturing her in the cellar. They cut SQUIB into her forearm like a brand and killed her just as I came downstairs."
"That's vile," Theya looked sick.
"Yeah," she pursed her lips. "I managed to change your mind - do you think I could change Regulus's too? I'm guessing Severus is probably too much to hope for."
"Probably, but I think Regulus-" Theya gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Regulus! Bollocks, I didn't even think! All the back and forth with him – this is what all that has been about?"
Ivy nodded vigorously.
"Fuck," she gave an awestruck laugh. "All this time, I just thought you two were fucked in the head. Don't get me wrong, I still do, but for entirely different reasons."
"Fair enough," she sighed. "But, seriously, do you think I – we could change his mind? I don't think he hates us, it seems as though he's just avoiding us, almost like-"
"He knows we're right," Theya finished with an understanding nod.
"Exactly. I don't understand it."
"I think he's confused. I think he's where you must've been after Hazel was killed, not knowing what to do or who to believe. But he'll come back to us, it's not like he's ever been able to stay away."
Ivy slouched in her chair grumpily. "He's stayed away from me real easily for the past year."
"Please," she scoffed. "He's not done so easily. Regulus was miserable without you last year and I know for a fact that he'll continue to be so until we all make up. You and I make his life bearable. Good, even. The way we all make each other's. I'm sure he's already remembered what life was like before he met us. He won't last much longer."
"I miss him," she said morosely, trying to ignore the subsequent pain in her chest.
"I know," Theya rubbed her lips together. "What about Frederick, though? I can tell you like him."
"Yeah… I only went out with him to keep up appearances. I didn't think I'd enjoy his company at all. But you're right, I do."
"You've really got a type, huh?" She smirked. "Death Eaters that you hope you can change."
"You're one to talk," Ivy retorted.
"I don't want to talk about-"
"Theya," she gave an exasperated sigh. "Can we just talk about stuff from now on? Please."
She let out a long whine and kicked her feet, finishing her mini tantrum with a huff. "Fine. But let's talk about Severus another day. I still have a million questions."
"I don't mind." Ivy reclined back, lying on her side and propping her head up with a hand. "You've no idea how long I've been dying to talk to someone about all this. I mean, I had Marlene for a while, but then she ditched me. There was only so much I could tell her anyway, but-"
"Wait, wait, wait. Marlene, as in, McKinnon?"
"Yeah."
Theya got to her feet, outraged. "You told a Gryffindor before you told me?"
Ivy laughed hard.
"It's not funny!" Theya threw her hands in the air angrily.
"I didn't tell her on purpose," she chuckled, unable to help herself. "You remember that Squib Rights march I asked you about back in second year? Well, I went disguised as Evans and nearly got blown to bits. Marlene found me and dragged me to safety. 'Course the Polyjuice potion was wearing off, so she had a bunch of questions."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Theya shook her head. "And she, what, ditched you? When? Why?"
"Last year when she found out I got my Mark," she scowled. "She said I went too far and couldn't be trusted anymore."
Not only that, but she'd called Ivy a complete and utter disappointment. Those words in particular still bounced around her head daily, alongside Regulus and the Dark Lord comparing her to Bellatrix.
"Who else knows?"
"Well, one time I walked in on Mulciber torturing Mary MacDonald. Getting her out of there was a tight spot, especially since Evans got involved. But Mulciber is still clueless about that, and all the girls know is that I helped MacDonald get away from him once. Nothing else."
Theya opened her mouth, but Ivy cut her off.
"Actually," she said thoughtfully. "I guess Dumbledore also knows. But that's just because he used Legilimency on me when I was younger. Bloody unfair if you ask me. And Severus accidentally saw Hazel's death when I was teaching him Legilimency, but I don't think he's put two and two together, as Marlene would say."
"I had no idea," Theya said in disbelief. "You really are the greatest liar of our age… What's the plan, then? I'm assuming you got the Dark Mark to try and get information. Are you working with Dumbledore or something? I know you said he's leading a group opposing the Death Eaters. The Group of Hippogriffs or something."
"Order of the Phoenix," Ivy corrected. "And no, I'm not. To be honest, I don't know what I'm doing. The plan was to get the Mark so I could be trusted with important information, then bide my time until I heard something useful. But I'm in school so I rarely make it to meetings, and when I do, there's very little information. I'm mostly just sent to attack people. All I've come up with so far is to minimise the casualties wherever possible."
"That's not a bad plan," Theya said contemplatively. "I think you're on the right track. If nothing useful is being presented to you, the best you can do is hunt for information and try to help people along the way."
"I just wish I would've done some good by now," Ivy said miserably. "It feels like I walked up fifty flights of stairs to find nothing at the top. I've definitely hurt more people than I've helped."
"You helped MacDonald. You helped me."
"It's not enough," she said adamantly. "I haven't done enough."
Theya watched her pensively. "Why haven't you asked Dumbledore for help?"
"He called me an omen of death," Ivy said sourly. "He also knows that I've tortured and killed people; he told me as much when I was in the Hospital Wing last year. He hasn't offered help, so I don't think he wants to be associated with me. Although…"
"What?"
"The potion Severus is making for me was Dumbledore's idea. Well, sort of."
"He told you to make a potion to enhance your Divination senses?" Theya cocked her head. "Why?"
"Well, I had mentioned seeing the dead when I sleep, and that was his response. Of course, he was cryptic, so I can only assume this is what he meant, but he seems to think the mirror dreams are a good thing."
"Maybe they are. You told me before that your reflection wants you to prevent a bunch of people from dying."
"Yeah, but I don't know where or when they'll die. How am I supposed to intervene?"
"Perhaps the dreams are meant to help you figure it out. Maybe the rest of your Divination senses are too."
"Oh," Ivy rolled her eyes. "Now you take stock in my Divination senses."
"Things change," Theya shrugged. "People change. Besides, if Dumbledore thinks they mean something, they very well might. My parents say he's the cleverest wizard they've ever met."
"I suppose. I could always go to the psychomanteum at Hogwarts, maybe Could will answer my questions."
"She told you not to try and find her. If I were you, I'd listen, Iv."
"Why should I?"
"Assuming you aren't completely mental, it's safe to say that she's some kind of otherworldly creature, right? A goddess or spirit or just some magic… thing that's trying to guide you. You've been patient this long. If it helps people, you can be patient for however long you need to be, right?"
"I guess," she grumbled. "It'd just be nice to have some answers. Not only about the dreams, but about the rest of it."
"What do you mean?"
"You're going to think I'm mad, but Theya, I've felt my soul split. Or, I think it's my soul. All I know is that when I kill people, pieces of… me break away and are captured in objects around me. Like this ring you gave me," Ivy pulled the silver and opal adornment off her pinky and handed it to her. "Part of me is in it. When I did my initiation for the Mark, I felt it happen."
"I don't understand," Theya handed the ring back quickly, looking disturbed.
"Neither do I. That's part of why I want to go to the psychomanteum, to see if Could can tell me what's going on."
"I still don't think you should do it."
"I know, but none of the Divination books I've read have any information. And I've read dozens. That's why my grades are slipping."
"I'm sure we can figure it out together," Theya said firmly. "Without defying the mystical being that, for all we know, could have the power to smite you."
Ivy laughed.
At the same time, the grandfather clock in the corner chimed loudly, announcing that it was midnight.
"Merry Christmas!" Theya said over the toll, reaching over to squeeze her hand.
Ivy grinned, less worried than she had been in years.