People disappear here by Halsey

She has my name but not my face

And I, tried to let her be someone

Hoping when the morning comes

She's not another hit-and-run, but everybody knows

The people disappear here

August 5th, 1978

It would've given Ivy a sick sort of pleasure to have Avdima's wake at Selwyn Estate, but she'd been overruled by Narcissa, who eagerly insisted that it would be held at Malfoy Manor instead.

Standing in Narcissa and Lucius's drawing room, she couldn't help but think that Narcissa had done a skillful job in organising the event.

Two glittering crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, reflecting candlelight onto the plum walls and fifty black-robed guests below. A massive pipe organ playing despondent tones of its own accord sat at one end of the room. In the middle, everyone mingled quietly, as house elves wandered about refilling drinks and offering light but elegant cuisine. At the other end of the room, there was a huge marble mantelpiece and a gilded mirror hanging above it.

Spotting her reflection in the glass, Ivy was proud to see that she looked exactly like the dutiful, devastated daughter she was not. Her silver eyes were red and extremely puffy, as she'd just finished her most recent bout of tears while speaking with Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Her slimming, sleeveless black gown was a bit suffocating at the neck and accompanied by long black gloves. Her white hair was loose and straight, though she had tied half of it up to wear the black ribbons and Thestral pin.

In the mirror, she could see everyone's eyes on her. As soon as someone's gaze shifted, she noticed someone else's burning a hole in the back of her head.

The Greengrasses, who were working with the Ministry to become her official guardians, were telling bittersweet anecdotes to anyone who would listen, though she knew their watchful eyes were keeping track of her. Theya was making sure to remain nearby, shooting her the occasional eye roll or gagging face. Severus was in tow by Theya, sour-faced but tolerating the event nonetheless.

Regulus was also keeping a close eye on her from a distance, as Walburga and Orion had bid him to be their shadow. He lingered behind them, only interacting when his parents gave him a cue. When they did, he stepped forward to say through gritted teeth how much he would miss his future mother-in-law.

Frederick, however, was glued to her side. She didn't mind, as it was nice to have a warm, reassuring hand on her lower back. Additionally, his fawning was doing wonders for her ego. Eventually, though, his parents pulled him away from their interaction with Narcissa and Lucius, and he gave her an apologetic smile as he went.

"Come take a walk with me?" Narcissa asked softly during a lull in conversation.

"Absolutely," Ivy inclined her head to Lucius and took her friend's arm. "Where are we going?"

The blonde didn't reply until they'd weaved their way through the gathering and out of the drawing room into the outside corridor. "I thought you could use a moment."

"Thank you," she let her shoulders sag a bit, as she was indeed due for a break.

They walked round a corner and the hallway was quiet aside from the lingering whispers of the wake.

"By the way," Ivy felt a small tug in her gut, something like nausea but not quite. "I forgot to thank you for your offer to stay here. If the Greenrgasses weren't already a second family to me, I would have taken you up."

"Don't mention it," Narcissa gave her arm a squeeze. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm managing. Really thought my mother would make it through."

"I was hoping so as well. But I suppose with her age it was only a matter of time."

"Right…" Ivy's stomach churned as they turned down another corridor, thoroughly sick of discussing Avdima. "Any luck with the fertility treatment?"

"None so far. My Healer said to give it a few more months, and if there still aren't any results, we'll try something else."

"I suppose it takes time," she winced as her gut gave another pull.

"I suppose."

There was a moment of silence between them, leaving her to listen to the subtle whispers of the gathering that were somehow growing louder as they made their way down the winding hallways. Ivy suspected they had circled about and were headed back to the gathering.

"For a wake," Ivy's stomach twisted again, and she held in a groan. "They're being awfully loud. I wonder if something happened."

"What do you mean?" Narcissa frowned.

"Don't you think they're making a ruckus?" She breathed around the feeling in her gut; it wasn't exactly painful, but it along with the whispers were growing more adamant as they walked.

"I don't hear anything."

Ivy blinked a few times in confusion. Listening intently as the whispers grew, she realised they didn't sound like murmurs from a group of people. They sounded like one person, speaking in a low, incomprehensible hiss.

Passing by a door with a silver plaque, the whispers became deafening, and her stomach lurched forcefully. Stopping with a gasp, she bent at the waist and put her hand on the wall to steady herself.

"What's wrong?" Narcissa sounded like she was underwater.

"I don't know," she heard herself say from a distance. "M-My stomach."

"I knew we shouldn't have served that salmon."

Ivy barely heard her but instinctively knew that this sensation was something else. She wasn't quite nauseous, and she wasn't quite in pain; she felt like she was being beckoned. Something nearby desperately wanted to meet her. She knew it, in the same way that she knew her name.

"Let's get you back," Narcissa's faraway voice was warbled, and the blonde began guiding her in the opposite direction.

With every step that they took, the whispering and tug in her gut lessened. The further they got from the door with the silver plaque, the better she felt. By the time they neared the drawing room, she had recovered and was bewildered because of it.

As they rounded a corner, she spotted Regulus pacing in the corridor outside the wake. Clothed in fine black dress robes, he frowned as Ivy and Narcissa arrived.

"Are you alright?" Regulus reached out to touch her arm before withdrawing at the last second. "What happened?"

"If you'll excuse me," Naricssa said in a tone of embarrassment. "I need to get rid of the salmon before anyone else eats it. You'll take care of her, won't you?"

"Of course," he looked confused as his cousin hurried to reenter the gathering.

"It's not the salmon," Ivy told him, feeling unsettled. "But I'll have to tell you later."

"Alright," he eyed her. "You will tell me later, right? You won't just tell Theya or Frederick and call it a day?"

"Huh?"

"Uh," Regulus went red in the face. "Never mind."

Ivy raised a brow at him.

He laughed nervously. "I came to find you because my parents think you, ah… Should be accompanied by your future husband for stuff like this, since Avdima's not around anymore. After all, once ousted from the cradle…"

"The obvious place to go is directly into the marriage bed," Ivy sighed.

"I tried to get us out of it," he stuck a hand into his dark, silky locks, looking bashful. "But my parents decided to have a chat with Frederick's parents… Your boyfriend said he gets how it goes, though. Direct quote. Seemed like he meant it."

"Blimey," Ivy took his arm with a scornful smile. "I really am the most prized cow at the auction."

"You're not a cow," he rolled his eyes. "But I'm sorry you're being treated like one."

"That's just how it is, isn't it?" She threw back her shoulders.

Reentering the drawing room on Regulus's arm, she located Frederick and gave him an apologetic look. He automatically inclined his head of strawberry blonde hair with a smile. Relieved to see that he wasn't angry, her heart swelled at his understanding and patience. She would be sure to let him know how much it meant to her later. Repeatedly.

Turning her attention to playing the part of the mourning daughter, she walked with Regulus around the drawing room, conversing with whoever was nearby, as everyone in the room was unfortunately clamouring to talk to her.

Every so often when they were in between groups of mourners, Regulus cracked quiet jokes about who they'd just been speaking with. When he began pointing out to her who all in his family had been born with a third nipple like Sirius, she accidentally let out a high-pitched laugh. Ivy had to cover it up by putting her hands over her face and making herself sob.

Once she regained her composure and they moved on, only having made a slight scene, she hissed at him to save his humour for another time. While he did, she could still feel the playful smugness coming off him, despite how hard he was trying to appear mournful. That, combined with his scent of pine trees, was making her nostalgic, and she thought about how his presence always made her feel calm and reassured. Reassured of what, she didn't know.

All she knew was that being with Regulus felt right.

But being with Frederick didn't feel wrong.

By the end of the event, she was more confused than ever.

August 11th, 1978

Regulus hovered on his broom alongside fourteen other Death Eaters, a good fifteen metres above Gideon Prewett's house. The nighttime summer sky was clear and only slightly chilly. His breath was making his face hot beneath his silver mask, while beneath his black robes and cloak, he was shaking.

Thankfully, the cover of darkness concealed this from his companions.

As much as he'd tried to ignore his nervousness at first, when they'd arrived a few minutes ago, his anxiety had hit its peak, and now it was all he could think about.

There was a possibility that it was caused by Ivy's presence; since they were all dressed the same, he couldn't tell who she was, and therefore didn't know how to have her back when the attack began. Severus, at least, wasn't in attendance because of his notorious inability to stay on a broom.

However, his anxiety may have also been due to the knowledge that he was about to ambush Sirius, who was in the house below currently being inducted into the Order of the Phoenix.

Regulus wouldn't admit it aloud, but lately he was beginning to envy his older brother. Not to mention, he was starting to think that maybe the prat had been right all along. The notion was intolerable, but present nevertheless.

Hearing a door slam shut, his gaze was drawn back to the home, where multiple people had spilled out onto the lawn, each with a broom in hand.

Pettigrew kept glancing up at the sky, as he knew they were there, though Regulus doubted he could see them. The rest of the group was chattering excitedly to one another, Fortescue and Longbottom nodding as Vance made a big motion with her free hand. Sirius had his arm around Lupin's shoulders, his head of long hair thrown back with laughter at something Potter had said. Evans also seemed to find whatever it was rather funny, as she was doubled over.

Their laughter didn't reach his ears thanks to protective enchantments around the countryside home, which were the only things keeping him and his companions from attacking right then.

Knowing that he was about to ambush them made Regulus more on edge than he had been in a long while. He shifted uneasily on his broom with a glance at his fellow Death Eaters. Bellatrix, who had been put in charge of the excursion, was cracking her neck. He could only distinguish her because she was at the head of their formation.

The door to the home opened again and Albus Dumbledore walked out, broom in hand.

While the new initiates below cheered, he could feel the air amongst the Death Eaters change. He didn't need to see their faces to know that they were all thinking the same thing: this is not good.

Regulus suspected that Dumbledore didn't know about the ambush, as Pettigrew would have been ousted already if so. Still, it was evident that the old wizard was there for added protection. That, or he often spent his Friday nights flying about with former students. Though, considering most members of the Order were his former students, it wasn't entirely out of the question.

Watching with trepidation as the group below mounted their brooms and began rising into the air, he realised with a start that he didn't want anyone below to get killed.

Even Potter, who he resented nearly as much as Walburga.

Bellatrix raised her hand to signal them, and he leaned forward, shooting off into the night with the others. He could see the Order flying far below and as soon as they descended, he knew the protective enchantments had reached their limits.

Right before they got close enough to be noticed, Bellatrix shot the first curse, which narrowly missed Evans, who screamed. Instantly, both groups broke their formation, and the frenzy began.

The fields far below came to life with colour, like a light being shone through a prism. Shrieks and yells carried on the air as he flew about aimlessly, swerving to dodge the flashes of colour that soared past him from all directions. Neither side was very organised, as they all appeared to be impulsively chasing random targets, sometimes diverging to come to another's aid.

It was pure chaos.

So much so that all Regulus could do was mindlessly fling about the tamer curses he knew, which turned out to be few. He wasn't even chasing anyone in particular; he couldn't focus long enough to distinguish who was supposed to be friend or foe. Especially since he himself no longer knew who he considered friend or foe.

Robes whipped past him unexpectedly and he watched Sirius blast a stream of red light over his shoulder, aimed directly at him. Swerving out of the way, the spell hit a Death Eater who was flying diagonally behind him. They slipped straight off their broom, plummeting to the earth below, their silver mask catching the wind and being whisked away.

Panic surged through him, and he dove at top speed, heart pounding with the idea that it could be his Ivy falling to imminent death. Hearing someone shout from behind, he sensed they had begun following him, but he pressed on faster, as the ground was coming up quickly. It was a whirlwind of darkness below the fight, which had made its way far into the sky, and with the wind whistling into his mask, he could only just see the falling body.

When the sound of a sickening crack reached his ears, Regulus jerked his broom upward.

The front end of the broom, however, hit the unmovable ground, sending him flying. Crashing face-first, he skidded, and eventually was rolled onto his back. Heaving, as there was no breath in his lungs, he spat out a mouthful of dirt and grass.

Getting to his feet, he gasped, as pain pricked him all over; in his ankle, wrist, shoulder, neck, and various other contact points that had ripped chunks of flesh out of him. Disoriented and needing to make sure that the body didn't belong to Ivy, he spotted the unmoving heap of black robes in the moonlight and limped over.

His ears rang and the sound of his blood pumping was all he could hear as he approached. Despite the sharp, acute pain that it caused, he rolled the body over with his wounded ankle, holding his left arm against his stomach.

It was a man – with light hair, whose head had been cracked open. The face was unrecognisable, as the man's head seemed to have been the first thing to hit the ground. Blood and brains were unspooling from the crater in his skull and Regulus turned to the side, vomiting bile into the dirt.

Hearing rapid footsteps, then his name, someone slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. Taking the brunt of the impact, he landed with a grunt of pain as the person lay half on top of him.

"Regulus!" Ivy's voice was abnormally high as she clutched his face tight in her hands. "I thought it was you – thank Merlin! Are you alright? You're alright? I don't know what I would've done if it was you! Tell me you're alright!"

"I'm fine," he groaned around the pain from his multiple wounds.

Ivy nodded, blinking rapidly like she was trying to wrap her head around his words.

After another moment of holding his face, she released him and crawled over to the body, where she made a gagging sound. On her knees beside the dead man, she bit the back of her hand like she was going to retch and peered closer.

"Who is it?" Regulus asked hoarsely. "Can you tell who it is?"

"Frederick," her voice cracked as she reached out with slender fingers to touch her boyfriend's broken body, only to pull back at the last second. "Frederick?"

Regulus swallowed the bile that rose again in his throat, stomach churning forcefully.

He watched as Ivy's dirty hands slipped into her stark white hair, and she released a sky-splitting scream of agony. The wail echoed into the night, and he was sure the few still duelling far above could hear it. He watched her face, which was twisted in despair as she let out another wrenching, brittle scream.

If he'd reacted a few seconds faster, she wouldn't have lost someone she loved.

Regulus hadn't even realised he was crying until the sound of footsteps made him turn his head. By the time he managed to get to his feet, Sirius had come into view. Breathing hard, he bled from his lip and a gash on his forehead, his long, dark hair flying all over the place.

Stepping in Sirius's way, he jammed the tip of his wand into his brother's neck. "Leave. Now."

"Tell me who," his brother's voice was a feral growl.

"It's one of ours. Leave her, you've done enough."

Sirius was no longer looking at him, but at Ivy, who was sitting back on her heels. Head tilted to the sky, she let out another wail of anguish. The moonlight enunciated every contour of grief on her contorted face and highlighted the bloody corpse of her boyfriend.

Infuriated at the look of guilt on Sirius's face, Regulus shoved him as hard as he could manage. "Get the fuck out of here!"

Stumbling backwards, Sirius tried forward again, and Regulus shot a warning spell at his feet. The white light of the spell started the grass on fire, but the look on his brother's face didn't change. He did, however, walk away reluctantly, gaze fixed on Ivy. Regulus still had his wand raised as Sirius picked up his broom slowly. His brother opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then closed it again.

Within seconds, he was gone.

Lowering his wand, Regulus turned to Ivy.

She had ceased her ragged screams in favour of hunching over Frederick's body and sobbing.

"Iv," he limped over. "We have to go."

She shook her head fervently.

He got back down his knees with a grunt of pain, realising as he did that he was kneeling in his own vomit. Ignoring the stench as best he could, he reached out a hand to touch the sleeve of her robes. When she didn't shrug him off, he tugged lightly, and she shook her head again.

"I know," Regulus wiped his eyes. "I know. But we have to go."

"I c-can't leave him like this," her voice was muffled. "He wouldn't leave m-me like this."

"Yes, he would," he told her gently, moving closer to pull on her sleeve again. "He would have to, like we have to."

The air cracked faintly. Then again, and again, the sound repeating until he'd counted ten snaps.

Regulus flashed his wand over a shoulder to vanquish the fire. When he looked back, Ivy was staring at him, tears glistening in the moonlight.

"Aurors are here," he said softly. "He wouldn't want you to end up in Azkaban over this."

When the surrounding field became filled with shouting, she flinched. Wordlessly, she got to her feet with him and moved close, holding tight to his right arm.

Twisting on the spot, they Disapparated with a sharp crack.

Landing in Ivy's bedroom at Selwyn Estate, the two of them remained as they were. Arm in arm, they spent a few minutes breathing and trying to grasp all that had happened. When he regained himself, he gave her another moment. When she didn't pull away, Regulus did so for her.

Her grip on his arm automatically tightened to a painful degree and he was unable to get out of her grasp.

"Don't leave me," she began crying again. "P-Please don't leave me."

"I won't," he said gently, knowing that she meant more than just him leaving her side. "We need to clean up. Then I'll take you to the Greengrass's."

Regulus tried to pull away again, but she had him in a vice grip.

"Here," he moved her hand slowly down his arm to interlace his fingers with hers, knowing they both understood it wasn't a romantic gesture. "Come on."

Guiding her to the attached lavatory, he opened the cabinet beneath the sink with his free hand, listening as she continued to weep quietly. Retrieving a clean stack of towels, he wetted them under the tap and sat her on the edge of the tub. This time when he began slowly unlacing their fingers, she didn't fight it.

Using his wand to clean the vomit from his knees, he then knelt before her as she stared at some unfixed point above his head, tears continually leaking from her silver hues.

Regulus began wiping Frederick's blood from her fingers, one wet towel at a time until there was only some red left in her hair. Delicately, he pushed the white hair away from her face. Feeling her eyes shift to him, he didn't meet her gaze, instead focusing on getting the blood and dirt off. The less she could be reminded of tonight in the mirror, the better.

When he made a move to begin wiping the dirt from her face, she caught his wrist, forcing him to look into her red-rimmed eyes.

"I don't blame you," her voice was hoarse, tears spilling down her cheeks. "And I don't blame Sirius."

Regulus marvelled at how easily she could compartmentalise, and not for the first time, he wondered whether it was a good thing.

"I hope you don't blame yourself," he told her.

"I blame Pettigrew," she released his wrist.

"Why?" He began dabbing at her face, knees starting to hurt a bit.

"Tonight wouldn't have been possible without him. Don't you think it's the height of cowardice to betray people who love you?"

"Yes," Regulus said softly. "I do."

Finishing his work, he got to his feet and stretched out his legs, then offered a hand.

"The Greengrasses will be missing you," he told her with a sad smile.

Ivy nodded soberly and wiped her eyes, taking his hand and holding it tightly, like he might slip away at any moment.

He supposed that he very well might.