Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens
Well you do enough talk
My little hawk, why do you cry?
Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn?
Or the Fourth of July?
We're all gonna die
August 26th, 1978
Ivy stared contemplatively at her mother's locked bookcase with a hand on her cocked hip. She and Theya had been in the Greengrass's backyard for hours trying to open the monstrosity, leaving them sweaty, smelly, and deeply irritated.
Both wore a form of denim fashion called overalls, as a few days prior, Theya had barged into Ivy's room and dumped an abundance of Muggle clothing on her bed. Theya's attempt to cheer her up had involved observing what girls their age in Muggle London were wearing, then buying anything and everything she thought Ivy would like.
Stomping about in Muggle clothes was indeed a small pleasure, as Avdima would've had her head for such an abomination.
"Thanks for coming," Theya looked over her shoulder at the new arrivals.
"Please tell me you're taking the piss," Severus sighed.
"Opening the bloody bookshelf," Regulus shook his head. "Is not an urgent matter that requires our immediate presence."
Ivy could feel Regulus trying to catch her eye and ignored him.
"If we hadn't lied," Theya said lightly. "You wouldn't have come."
"You're right about that," Severus replied. "It's just a book."
From the corner of her eye, she watched Theya nudge Severus in the ribs. He scowled at her and she glared back. Ignoring their nonverbal conversation, which she was sure was about her, she realised she hadn't gotten around to telling Regulus or Severus the significance of finding Ancient Divination in her mother's collection. Regardless, she was in no mood to elaborate.
"Just help me open the damn thing," Ivy said flatly. "I want to go back to bed."
Theya punched Severus hard on the arm and he yelped, making Regulus laugh.
Ivy felt a flare of annoyance, currently having zero interest in humour. The only thing she had any interest in was getting the Divination book, as she couldn't find so much as a record of That Which Is Natural and That Which Is Not. Most of her time had been spent wallowing in bed, as she dreaded the start of seventh year and the condolences that would come with it.
"We've tried everything," Theya told the boys. "Including Bombarda Maxima, which just rattled the stupid thing."
"If you've already tried everything," Regulus said sceptically. "I doubt there's much we'll be able to do."
"Just try," Theya persisted. "Anything goes, long as you don't ruin the book trying to open the case."
"Fine," Severus said. "By the way, why're you two wearing Muggle clothes?"
"Because we want to," Theya raised a brow challengingly. "Got a problem with it?"
"No."
"Good."
Severus smiled when his girlfriend looked away.
Ivy could feel Regulus's eyes on her again, but she kept her gaze fixed forward.
"Let's crack on then," Theya gave a sharp clap. "Do your worst."
Drawing his blackthorn wand, he thought he felt Ivy watching him. The idea made him sweat in a way that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun overhead. He looked over his shoulder to confirm his suspicion, and her eyes shifted like she was looking away.
A frown drew itself over his features, as warning bells rang again in his head. They'd first gone off when he saw her through the Greengrass's glass doors, as she looked nothing like her normal self. Her hair was loose and ratty, lacking its usual black ribbons and Thestral pin, plus her finger was missing the silver and opal ring. Even her wrist was bare.
Turning his attention back to the bookcase, he raised his wand at the same time as Severus.
Starting with every unlocking spell and opening charm he could think of, they all hit the shelf and dissipated. Subsequently, he attempted ten Bombarda Maximas, shooting them in such rapid succession that he was breathless when through, having only managed to knock the bookcase over. Once they had it upright again, he flung out every advanced curse he knew, which turned out to be a great many.
After probably twenty minutes of no results, he shook his head and turned round to see that Severus had already given up and was sitting in the shaded grass beside Ivy and Theya.
"Bollocks," Regulus ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "What the hell kind of spell did she use on this thing?"
Ivy shrugged and got to her feet.
Regulus switched spots with her, sprawling out onto the shadow of the Greengrass home between Severus and Theya. Staring up at the cloudless sky as his heartbeat slowed, he listened to Ivy try spells that couldn't possibly work, like Jelly Legs Jinxes and Tongue-Tying Curses.
"She's been at it all day," Theya said under her breath.
Regulus lifted his head to catch Ivy's attempt at Transfiguring the hulking heap of wood.
"My parents said she was out here at the arse crack of dawn. Yesterday she went to Selwyn Estate to grab the last of her things and this morning her house elves moved the bookcase here."
Neck beginning to strain, Regulus sat up, bending his knees to rest his forearms on them.
"She's only stopped to use the loo," Theya continued contemplatively. "Hasn't eaten a thing."
"Why does she want that book so bad?" Severus watched Ivy, who hammered away at the bookshelf, her invocations becoming increasingly vexed.
"The Grey Lady told her it could help explain her Divination senses," she elaborated. "'Course, Ivy's been obsessed with figuring out what they mean for ages, but I've never seen her like this before."
"I have," Regulus said knowingly. "It's best to let her get it out. But what's with the-"
Ivy let out a wild scream of frustration and Regulus watched her pace angrily and take several deep breaths. She then resumed her onslaught with what appeared to be renewed fury.
"I haven't been able to figure the jewellery thing out," Theya went on warily. "If anything, I'd have thought she wouldn't let it out of her sight, but I haven't seen her wear any since… you know."
"Crucio! " Ivy shrieked.
"Ah, bugger," Theya got to her feet.
Exchanging a troubled look with Severus, they stood as well.
They watched as Theya approached Ivy, who was now tossing out Avada Kedavras at the top of her lungs.
Regulus started forward, but Severus stuck an arm in his path and shook his head.
He wanted to protest, but despite the protectiveness that threatened to overwhelm him, he grudgingly knew he shouldn't involve himself.
Severus cautiously lowered his arm as Theya grabbed Ivy's wrist. The witch jerked away to continue her mindless, unrelenting violence, though her incantations were becoming interjected with gasps for breath.
A younger version of her destroying the grounds at Selwyn Estate flashed into Regulus's mind. It was all he could do to not run to her and he tried to think past himself to recall that he was not what she needed right then, however painful the notion was.
After being shoved away again, Theya teetered as Ivy stuttered out spells with decreasing velocity, no longer conjuring anything more than sparks. Eventually, she sank onto all fours. Her head hung and she began emitting the same wounded, guttural groans as the night of her Death Eater initiation.
Regulus turned away to face the Greengrass home, covering his mouth with a hand. Watching her was too hard, even when Severus gripped his shoulder.
As it turned out, he couldn't listen to her either, so he took off wordlessly across the yard.
Reentering the home, he shut the glass door behind himself and halted. He had been planning to make a beeline for the kitchen to find Theya's parents, but they were already in the sitting room.
Sere was on the sofa, gazing past the armchairs out the window. Tears leaked from her hazel eyes, which had a faraway look in them, and she didn't seem to have noticed his arrival. Reginald, who sat on the armrest beside his wife, a hand rubbing her back soothingly, dipped his head in solemn greeting.
Regulus swallowed and said the only thing he could think of. "I need your tent."
Lying on her side atop a thick patchwork quilt, Ivy stared at the adornments on her nightstand despite the room growing increasingly dark. Theya had modified the Greengrass guest room a week prior to turn the walls dark blue. An intricate, shiny silver pattern wound itself throughout the stark colour. Sere and Reginald had offered to take Ivy shopping for more decor, but she had yet to make a single public appearance. She'd even missed Frederick's funeral, as she had enough reminders of his death to last several lifetimes.
Having fully moved out of Selwyn Estate, all her favourite possessions fit neatly into the medium-sized room; her clothing, trunk, and miscellaneous belongings had been haphazardly stuffed into the closet due to her lack of energy, while her jewellery and hair pieces sat neatly arranged on the nightstand.
As the sun went down beyond the window beside her bed, the ashes coming off her silver and opal bracelet melted into the darkness.
A soft knock reached her ears and her eyes slid to the closed door. When the knob began to turn, she closed her eyes and listened to the door creak open.
"Why are you laying in the dark?" Sere whispered.
Ivy breathed deeply to imitate sleep.
"You're very convincing," came a laugh.
From behind her eyelids, she saw light flood into the room. Cracking one eye open, she watched Sere enter, the door snapping shut behind her. She looked vaguely amused as she took a seat at the foot of the bed. She raised a brow and held out a cup of water.
Holding in a sigh, Ivy sat up and took it. Absently tapping her bitten nails against the glass, she stared down at the water, half wishing she could drown in it. She liked Sere -loved her even- but talking to anyone had been nothing but excruciating lately.
"Isolating yourself will just make it worse," Sere remarked evenly.
"How would you know?" Ivy placed the water beside Hazel's ribbons.
She laughed heartily. "Dear, that's one question you should never ask."
Despite not feeling particularly remorseful, she opened her mouth to give an apologetic non-apology.
"It's alright," Sere cut her off with a smile, reaching over to give her knee a brief squeeze. "I said the same thing to my parents when my lover died."
Now, that made her feel guilty. "You lost someone?"
"Years ago." The willowy woman sighed wistfully, leaning back on her hands in a way that made her look like an older version of Theya, as their perpetually nonchalant demeanour was much the same. "I was just a few years older than you. Olive was a Muggle. Didn't know I was a witch. We were penpals for years until I moved to New York City to be with her… She worked at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory," Sere stared at an unfixed point out the window, looking suddenly crestfallen. "It burned down with her inside."
"Oh," Ivy's stomach lurched, recalling Frederick's bashed in skull. The memory was like a knife puncturing her lungs and she wondered if she would ever be able to breathe properly again.
"Horrible, isn't it?" Sere mumbled absently.
Ivy cleared her throat, trying to banish Frederick's face, or lack thereof. "What about Reginald?"
"Life goes on," she murmured, before taking a breath and running a hand through her blonde hair. "It's like a ball in a box."
"What is?"
"The pain. The loss. The grief… Picture a box containing a large ball. There's a button somewhere in the box, which, when pushed, activates the pain. When you first lose someone, the ball is huge, bouncing around the box and hitting the pain button all the time. You can't even move without hitting the button. You can't control it either – it just keeps hurting."
Ivy's lower lip wobbled.
"As time goes on, the ball shrinks. Every now and then, it still hits the button. Maybe you see someone who reminds you of who you lost. Maybe you hear a song that reminds you of them. Maybe it comes out of nowhere."
"Does the ball ever vanish?" Ivy's voice cracked as she pulled a still damp handkerchief from beneath her pillow and wiped her nose with it. "Does it ever get so small that it vanishes?"
Sere took her hand with an apologetic smile. "No."
Ivy didn't bother holding in her tears, which burned nowhere near as much as her loss.
The witch moved closer and gently pulled her into a hug, holding her tight like she would kill anyone who tried to pry her away. It was the first motherly embrace she'd ever felt, which only broke her further.
"The ball never goes away," Sere added softly, stroking her hair. "But one day, you'll realise that it hasn't hurt in a few days. Then, a few weeks. Eventually, a few months. One day you might even find that it hasn't hurt in years."
The older woman began rocking her ever so gently while Ivy continued to cry, curling into herself.
"If you're very lucky," she whispered. "Which I know that you are, one day the pain will be accompanied by warmth. You'll be comforted in knowing that you loved, and were loved in return. You'll feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that person belonged to you. The memories of them are yours. And while you can no longer see them, you will always be able to feel them."
Ivy sobbed harder than she had in quite some time, hoping she was right.
Only when she was all cried out, which was quite some time later, did she pull away to blow her nose in the handkerchief and drink half the water she'd been given.
Sere then took it upon herself to gently wipe the last of Ivy's tears away. When she kissed the top of her head, Ivy's eyes fluttered closed and she soaked in the maternal touch she'd secretly craved for so long. She felt like a small child, in the best sense of the word: safe, loved, and innocent. It was the strangest feeling - one she was sure she'd never experienced before.
"Thank you," Ivy whispered, opening her eyes to lean her head on the witch's shoulder and stare unfocused at the beige carpet.
"Do you want to know something else?" Sere began gently stroking Ivy's hair again. "As of today, Reginald and I are officially your guardians."
"The Ministry pushed it through?"
"They did," a smile shone through her comforting voice. "Reginald and I spent years trying to get you out from under your parents, so we were the natural choice for guardians when she died. Your cousin, Thorfinn Rowle, put up a fight, but he didn't stand a chance."
"You were trying to adopt me… for years?" Her voice broke, along with the last of her reservations about Theya's parents.
"We were trying a lot of things," she chuckled. "And I mean a lot. There was even talk of faking your death at one point. 'Course, Reginald and I had a bit too much Daisyroot Draught when that plan was hatched."
Ivy snickered a little and pulled away to finish her water.
"We tried to do the same for Regulus," Sere shifted to sit cross-legged, eyes red though her voice remained even. "Reginald and I know battered children when we see them."
Ivy swallowed a sound of shock, as she hadn't known the abuse was obvious. As far as she knew, neither she nor Regulus had discussed the matter with anyone besides each other.
"But getting Regulus away from his family has proven impossible, just as it was when your parents were alive. While the Greengrasses are very well connected, there's only so much we can do when money is involved."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you and Regulus are heirs to large fortunes, which makes things tricky - that reminds me, you should know that Reginald and I won't have access to your vault and other assets. Your inheritance will be accessible to you and only you when you come of age in a few months. The Ministry can provide you with documentation if you'd like. In the meantime, if you need anything, just ask. We've plenty to support you with on our own."
Ivy nodded gratefully.
She smiled and was momentarily silent before withdrawing a long, thin, velvet box from her robes, which she handed to Ivy. Sere opened her mouth to say something, but looked sharply at the door and raised her voice. "Your pacing isn't as subtle as you think it is! Just come in already!"
"Are you sure?" A sceptical, muffled voice asked from the other side.
"Yes!"
The door opened just enough for Reginald to stick his head of thinning golden hair inside. His face was red and he smiled bashfully, observing them for a moment before slowly stepping inside. Leaving the door ajar, he walked sheepishly over. He knelt before them, though when he noticed the black box in Ivy's hands, his face fell.
"You did it without me," he said to his wife, sounding hurt. "I told you to call me in before giving her the necklace. I wanted to see her face!"
"She hasn't opened it yet," Sere stifled laughter. "Thank you, though, for spoiling the surprise."
"Oh," Reginald ducked his head.
Sere rolled her eyes playfully. "Go ahead and open it, Ivy."
Doing so, she found herself faced with an elegant sapphire pendant hanging from a silver snake chain. Her heart swelled when she noticed that the back of the lavaliere had been etched to say: For our daughter.
"We wanted to give you a Greengrass heirloom," Reginald said proudly.
"We were going to give you a certain ring," Sere added. "Then saw it on your nightstand."
"Oh," Ivy's eyes went wide. "Theya-"
"Don't worry," Reginald smiled. "Theya giving you the ring just means she knew you were family before we did."
"We just hope that when you're ready," Sere nodded at the jewellery on the nightstand. "You'll wear the necklace too."
Ivy couldn't think of a single way to express how touched she was.
Fortunately, she was saved a response when Reginald abruptly got to his feet, looking misty-eyed.
"Now," he cleared his throat, turning his head to run a hand over his eyes. "Regulus organised something for you in the backyard. Why don't you go take a look?"
Ivy delicately took the sapphire necklace out of its box, setting it with her other adornments.
She then hugged Reginald around the waist wordlessly. Her heart melted when he hugged her back and she felt -for the first time- the comfort that came with being held by a father. Sere joined in on the hug and they stayed that way in silence, all of them pretending not to cry.
Having pitched the tent they stayed in after the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship, Regulus had spent the last few hours attempting to make it look like it had back then. While he was certain all the other knick knacks were in their rightful places, he couldn't quite figure out where the last painting was meant to go.
"Was this here or next to the tent flap?" Regulus eyed the cheetah as it stalked back and forth in its framed safari, staring him down hungrily.
"Just pick somewhere," Severus said. "She's not going to remember every little detail."
Resigned, Regulus hung the painting where he stood, which was at the far end of the massive tent. Taking a look around, he noted that Theya was still sticking her head outside to keep watch for Ivy. Severus was seated atop one of the four cots, which had been pushed together to form a circle. In the centre was their meal of bangers and mash, which was crowded upon a tiny makeshift dinner table. Severus, as it turned out, was an excellent cook, and had finished the food over an hour ago, though a Stasis Charm kept it steaming.
"We could've just eaten inside," Severus gazed longingly at the meal.
"Hungry from all your whinging, are you?" Regulus rolled his eyes. "The tent is more important than the dinner; it's from one of the best days of Ivy's life."
"Really?" Severus raised his brows. "She told you that?"
"Yeah," Regulus flopped onto the cot beside him.
"Why is it one of the best days of her life?"
"Because we were there."
Theya suddenly ducked into the tent and dove onto the cot beside Regulus. "She's coming!"
The trio hurriedly got to work trying to appear normal: Severus looked around like he'd rather be anywhere else, Theya picked at her nails, and Regulus scrambled to grab the book from beneath his cot.
Just as he flipped to a random page, he heard the tent flap open. Paying Ivy no attention as she stood silently at the entrance, he stared blankly at the book.
"Thanks for setting this up, Regulus," Ivy said quietly.
"I didn't," Regulus lied, not wanting to take credit lest she think he was trying to win her back directly after her boyfriend's head got bashed in.
"Your book is upside down," Ivy remarked as she sat on the last empty cot.
Clearing his throat, he tossed aside the novel in defeat and rested his chin on his hands. "Well, Severus and I just helped. All this was Theya's idea."
"I am the most thoughtful person here," Theya shot him a sly wink. "Which is why I thought it'd be nice to set the tent up the same as a few years ago."
"Was that cheetah painting there last time?" Ivy asked in what sounded like a forced lighthearted tone. "I could've sworn it was near the entrance."
Regulus frowned at Severus, who reddened.
"Not sure," Theya said dismissively. "Anyway, I'm starving. You know, from being so thoughtful."
Ivy spontaneously burst into tears.
Regulus's eyes widened in horror. "S-Sorry, this was a bad idea."
She only cried harder.
"This was supposed to cheer you up," Theya said quickly. "Or - cheer you up as much as possible considering… Considering Frederick…" She looked to Severus for help, but he was frozen. "...Went away."
"Just say it," Ivy hiccupped. "He's dead. He hasn't gone to sleep or went away or passed. None of those things are true, nor do they spin me into the delusion that I'll ever see him again. He's dead."
"Er…" Theya seemed at a loss. "Yeah."
Severus stared at Ivy in alarm, while Regulus opened his mouth. Unable to think of what to say, he closed it again.
"I'm not crying because you did this," Ivy took a breath. "I'm crying because this is the best thing you could have done, and the thought that I could lose you all too…"
"We're not going to die," Severus didn't sound like he believed himself.
"Not willingly," Ivy sniffled. "You don't have a choice whether you're killed tomorrow or in fifty years. I could lose any of you at any time."
"I could lose you too, you know," Theya sounded put-out. "Any one of you could have been Frederick."
Regulus shifted uncomfortably.
"You're worried about us dying," she said irritably. "But what about you, Iv? I mean, you drink experimental potions and get dragged into other bloody dimensions. It easily could've been you with your head cracked open."
"Theya," Regulus hissed with a glance at Ivy, who looked taken aback.
"Shut up," Theya snapped, getting to her feet. "You're no better. Don't think I don't remember rushing you to St. Mungo's after Severus's graduation party - they said if you'd had one more drink you could've died."
Regulus blinked, having had no idea until that moment that they'd even gone to St. Mungo's that night.
"Not only that," she continued feverishly. "But you were literally a centimetre away from being Frederick."
"This isn't the time," Severus tried.
"And you!" Theya rounded on him. "Entering potions championships when you know you'll be facing XXXXX creatures - nearly getting attacked by a werewolf because you can't resist egging on your childhood rivals."
Severus gulped.
"Frankly," she huffed. "I'm the only one here who runs the risk of ending up alone; all three of you are Death Eaters, going out and nearly getting yourselves killed every other Holiday. Do any of you know that when you go to your little meetings, I wait for hours in front of the Floo, hoping no one steps out to tell me you're all dead? None of you even send me an owl at the end of the night to tell me you're alive - I have to wring it out of you like a dry fucking towel!"
"I didn't know that," Severus said quietly.
"Me neither," Regulus and Ivy said at the same time.
"Of course you didn't," Theya laughed bitterly. "You're all too busy attempting suicide because you'd rather die than be the one left behind. And where do you think that'll leave me, huh? I'll tell you where - looking down at your fucking gravestones. Alone. If anyone is going to end up alone, it's me."
Regulus watched as she ended her diatribe and panted for breath. He wanted to come up with a retort or consolation, but everything that came to mind was meaningless or a downright lie.
Theya collapsed back onto her cot and tucked her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself, golden hair curtaining her form. She continued to breathe hard, but he didn't think she was crying.
Her words echoed in Regulus's ears and when no one made a move to console her, he shifted to her cot and gently pulled her into a hug. She accepted the embrace and curled into his lap, clutching him tight. A moment later, he felt Severus's long arms wrap around them both. When more weight was added to their cluster, he knew Ivy had joined the embrace.
Huddled in a mess of limbs, he didn't move for fear of breaking the moment, despite how sweaty the combination of body heat was making him.
"Don't leave me alone," Theya's voice was a muffled command.
"Never," Severus's voice was equally stuffy.
"If we do," Ivy was the hardest to hear. "You have permission to Avada each and every one of us."
Laughter, some of which was his own, reached his ears through the entanglement.
Despite being amassed atop a single cot, he let out a yelp of surprise when it collapsed beneath their collective weight.