Violet Hill by Coldplay
Was a long and dark December
From the rooftops I remember
There was snow, white snow
Clearly I remember
From the windows they were watching
While we froze down below
November 12th, 1978
"Merlin," Theya breathed as they stepped into the cathedral-sized room of discarded things.
"I know," Ivy shut the brass-knobbed door behind them.
Theya spun wide-eyed in a slow circle, then darted over to a collection of tarnished trophies. Seconds later, she was in front of a disordered jewellery cabinet, where she began trying on every twinkly piece.
Deciding to give her a moment, Ivy peered down an alley. The low, hissing whisper reached her ears and she felt the familiar tug in her stomach as she stared down the way. Taking a tentative step forward, she exhaled in relief when the sensations remained tenuous. Based on the way she was no longer being beckoned, she had an inkling that the diadem had some form of sentience and was appeased since being found.
No wonder everyone thinks I'm mad, she thought tiredly.
Glancing over at Theya -who was preoccupied with gawking at a precariously assembled pillar of glistening bottles- Ivy peered down the left pathway, the one she had not yet taken.
Meandering down it a metre or two, she took in the hat rack full of apparent rejects and sets of dismantled, rusting armour. Moving towards a cabinet full of congealed potions, she peered through the reflective glass to read the labels. In different handwriting styles and language, she identified numerous poisons and very few antidotes.
One jar looked particularly out of place and she squinted, trying to decipher what the murky air contained inside was. The only label she could find on it read: DO NOT SHATTER.
"You ready?" Theya called.
"Yeah," Ivy went back where she had come and led them down the familiar path.
Passing a floor-length mirror as they went, she averted her eyes. It had become routine to avoid every mirror she encountered, though this made adjusting her appearance difficult, as she more often than not resorted to using windows and transparent glass.
When they reached the shelf containing two glowing bottles of blue liquid, her cursed book, and the tiara, she plucked the warped crown from its place and stuffed it into her school bag.
"What's in these?" Theya tapped a nail against one of the bottles.
"Dunno. But whatever you do, don't open that book."
"Why?"
"I hid it here."
"Again, why?"
"Well, well," she folded her arms with a smirk. "Look who's no longer preaching plausible deniability."
"I've come to find that with you," Theya booped her on the nose. "It's better to know."
"Ask me again in a few months," Ivy stuck her tongue out. "And we'll see if I'm willing to share. Just don't open it or you'll get sucked into a void. Or another dimension, I'm not really sure where it leads."
"Point made," she shook her head. "Now, how do you propose we find your Death Magic book?"
"Summoning Charm?"
"Worth a shot," Theya drew her wand. "Accio book!"
A chaotic cluster of whizzing and crashing erupted all around them.
Ivy barely had time to curse before thousands of books came hurtling towards them from every direction, dropping on their heads and bashing them in the ribs. Before she knew it, she was bruised and drowning in paper. The texts barraged her, stacking up so rapidly that she could no longer move from the neck down. Just when she thought she was going to be buried alive, she heard the sound of a final book dropping onto the pile.
"Accio book?" Ivy screamed, too stuck to wiggle her way out, though she did give a jolt when her hazel wand zapped her forearm from its place up her sleeve. "Accio book? Are you fucking serious?"
A set of shoes appeared directly in front of her eyes and she craned her neck as best she could to see Theya towering over her with a grin.
"Get me out of here," Ivy growled.
"Or what?" Theya chortled. "You gonna bite my ankles?"
"Come closer and find out," she snapped her teeth in warning.
"Uh oh," she snickered. "The murder face has arrived. Alright, hang on, I'll get you out."
She knelt down and began digging, tossing books flippantly over her shoulder until Ivy had enough wiggle room to pull herself free. Clutching Theya's forearm, she stumbled out, books cascading into the hole as she was helped to her feet atop the expansive pile of tomes.
As soon as she was steady, Ivy swatted Theya hard on the arm.
"Ow!" She scowled. "That's no way to thank me!"
"Why would I thank you?" Ivy scowled back. "I was almost crushed!"
"You'll thank me," Theya picked a book up from the pile they stood on. "When you see this."
A thrill went through her. "You found That Which Is Natural and That Which Is Not?"
"No," Theya handed the volume to her. "But you might be closer to getting the other book, Ancient Divination."
Ivy stared down at the cover of A Thief's Magical Guide to Obtaining Absolute Access.
"I'll take that thank you now."
"Thanks," she rolled her eyes, stuffing the book into her bag. "I didn't realise how many books were here… Should we try looking through all this? Seems like it'll take us 'til the end of the year."
"I say we attempt a Summoning Charm-"
Ivy glared at her.
"-and do it the right way this time. If it doesn't come to us, we come back another day. Much as I want to help you find it, we've got piles of homework. Literal piles."
Indeed, their workload was becoming absurd, so much so that it had taken her two months to come back for the diadem in the first place.
"Agreed." Drawing her wand, Ivy gave a more refined attempt. "Accio That Which Is Natural and That Which Is Not!"
When nothing happened, she shoved her wand angrily back up her sleeve.
Sliding with Theya down the side of the wide pile, it was a relief when her feet hit solid ground again. They strolled leisurely in thoughtful silence on the way back to the entrance, every now and then stopping to observe ancient-looking brooms or bolts of fabric with gnashing teeth.
"Should. Come here."
Glimpsing Could in the black floor-length mirror she had avoided earlier, Ivy's heart gave a jolt of apprehensive curiosity. In long white robes, she was stationary except for her eyes, which followed Ivy as she came to stand in front of the ethereal reflection.
"I have a task for you," Could said.
"Iv, what-" Theya stopped to scream at the top of her lungs.
Ivy winced at the ear-piercing sound.
Sparing a glance over her shoulder, she found Theya directly behind her, staring into the mirror with astonishment. Her body was rigid, hazel eyes blinking rapidly.
Looking back at the glass, she swore Could rolled her eyes.
"I have a task for you," she repeated.
"What is it?" Ivy asked.
"Take the jar of Nundu breath and place it in the ballroom of Selwyn Estate."
"Uh," she raised her brows. "What?"
"You have located the jar marked DO NOT SHATTER, yes?"
"Yeah."
"Then you know how to proceed," Could said peacefully.
"Is doing this somehow going to save lives?"
"Yes."
"Respectfully," Theya interjected, giving an awkward curtsey. "Isn't Nundu breath, y'know, so diseased that it wipes out entire villages? I don't see how keeping a jar of if will save lives."
"Do you have access to information that extends beyond the confines of time?" Could asked her evenly.
"No," she looked guilty.
Could spread her hands as if to say that her point was made.
Then, she vanished from the mirror entirely.
"Mercurial, isn't she?" Ivy remarked dryly. "Well, let's go get the ruddy jar."
November 25th, 1978
Madam Puddifoot's was easily the best spot in Hogsmeade for a good cuppa, even if it contained far more bows and lace than Regulus cared for. He, Ivy, Severus, and Theya stuck out against the decor, as they all wore dark robes and haughty demeanors of varying degrees.
The teashop had been deemed their favourite haunt in Hogsmeade, as the only people who came in were couples so disgustingly enamoured with each other that they paid no attention to the notorious friend group. Everyone got something out of the place; Regulus and Ivy received exemplary tea, Theya gained valuable gossip, and Severus got to bet money on how long he thought couples would last.
Letting the Earl Grey scald his tongue, he smiled when the liquid warmed him on the way down. Just beyond the steamed window to his left, snow fell from an overcast sky, leaving the streets deserted.
"I can have the Veritaserum ready by February," Severus was saying to Ivy. "And the Polyjuice by Winter Holidays."
"What d'you need those for?" Regulus asked Ivy.
"You're better off not knowing."
"Is that so?" He drawled.
"Yes."
"Just tell me," he huffed.
"No."
Not for the first time, envious irritation crawled in his chest and he gave her a nasty look. He'd been feeling excluded from their secrets and shunted to the sidelines for nearly a year. At first, he'd let it be out of respect for Ivy's relationship with Frederick, but now he had to wonder if something else was going on.
"Do you know what they're on about?" Regulus asked Severus snottily.
"Not a clue."
He turned back to Ivy and Theya. "Do you not trust me with whatever scheme you're planning?"
They exchanged a reticent look that told him all he needed to know.
"Seriously?" He scowled at them. "I thought we were all on the same page now. About everything. Is that what this is about?"
"This isn't the place to have that discussion," Theya said in a low voice. "You know that."
"What discussion?" Severus piped up.
Not knowing how to answer him, Regulus shook his head and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms moodily as he stared out the window.
"I don't know what the Polyjuice is about anyway," Theya added. "She won't tell me, so you're not the only one."
"Feels like it," he grumbled.
"At least you knew enough to follow along," Severus sounded peeved.
"Let's just drop it," Ivy snapped.
Their small, crowded table was silent as Regulus drank his tea and tried to figure out why they didn't trust him. He couldn't think of a single off-colour thing he'd said or done in the past year to warrant the wariness. Sure, it had taken him a while to come to the right conclusion about blood purity and all it entailed, but he'd thought that was resolved.
"Y'know," Theya mused aloud. "I think we might be the only group of mates that comes here."
"The tea's not even that good," Severus grumbled.
"Yes it is," Regulus and Ivy demanded.
"I'd rather be at the Three Broomsticks."
Feeling Ivy's playful glare, he resisted the immediate urge to give her a flirtatious smile. It seemed he was maintaining his undefeated betting streak on how frequently Severus lied that he wanted to be somewhere other than Madam Puddifoot's.
"But we can't do this at the Three Broomsticks," Theya forcibly removed a pink bow from its doily beneath her teacup and placed it atop her boyfriend's head.
Regulus and Ivy laughed.
"Is this really what you want to see?" Severus turned his head slowly to frown at his girlfriend. "Me in pink bows?"
"You've no idea how sexy androgyny is," Theya grinned.
Ivy nodded in agreement and Regulus exchanged a bemused look with Severus, who promptly chucked the bow over his shoulder.
The bow landed in a girl's tea, making her jump.
When she scowled over at them, Regulus's hands went clammy. He hadn't noticed Ariadne enter the shop and the notion sent him into a spiral of intrusive, violating memories. Mulciber held her hand, grinning at Regulus in a slow, creeping manner that made him want to hurl.
Ariadne suddenly sneezed and bats shot out of her nose, making Mulciber lurch back in his chair Before she could recover, it happened twice more, causing nearby couples to shriek as bats flew between tables in search of escape.
Only when she had sneezed a total of seven times -hurling bats into the parlour each time- did she snatch up her cloak and bolt out the door. Followed shortly after by Mulciber, everyone else was left to the dozens of bats crashing into teacups and frantically beating themselves against the lacy curtains.
Feeling a tug on his pant leg, Regulus realised the others had taken shelter beneath the small table. Dipping down, he flicked the tablecloth over his head to find his friends laughing hysterically while the other occupants hollered outside their little refuge.
"Who did that?" Regulus managed to ask around his laughter.
"All of us," Ivy gasped for breath around uncontrollable giggles.
"She's gotta know it was us," Theya clutched at her side.
"Worth it," Severus snickered.
Regulus grinned, once again reminded of just how lucky he was to have them.
Once the commotion died down, Ivy resurfaced to find that the bats had vanished, along with most of the customers. Madam Puddifoot was at their side in seconds, offering a bigger table and unlimited biscuits for the inconvenience.
The foursome happily accepted and crawled out from under the table.
As they got to their feet, Severus caught Ivy's eye and jerked his head toward the door. "A word?"
"Sure," she spared a glance at Regulus. "I'll meet you out front in a moment."
Severus wound his cloak round his shoulders. When he departed, the bell above the door twinkled and a gust of cold air kicked itself inside.
Ivy turned to Regulus. "Terms?"
"Huh?" Theya frowned.
"Only counts if he's in the building," Regulus smirked.
"Fine," Ivy put her cloak on, tightened her Slytherin scarf, and nestled her matching hat over her ears.
"What're you talking about?" Theya pressed.
"Fill her in on the bet," Ivy told Regulus. "Before she has a conniption over not being in the know."
Regulus snorted and Theya flipped her off.
Headed for the front door, Ivy stepped into the lightly flurrying air, the bell chiming overhead before the door snapped shut behind her.
Severus had taken shelter from the snow beneath the awning and she cast a Warming Charm over them. Before she could ask what he wanted a word about, she noticed that something about him was off - something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
"You're staring," he scowled.
"You look different. What did you do?"
"Nothing."
Ivy levelled him with an impatient expression.
Seeming to realise that it wasn't worth the effort, he grumbled: "I might've… invested in myself."
Cocking her head, she inspected him more thoroughly.
The changes were subtle, but noticeable to those that knew him well. His black hair was no longer an atrocious mess like it had been cut with rusty scissors; it had been given a proper shape and seemed to have been washed with fancy products. Additionally, his face was freshly cleaned, as though his new job under Damocles Belby meant he was finally able to afford good hygiene.
"No way," she said when her eyes caught on the emblem of one of his cufflinks, which he immediately tucked behind his back. "Your robes are French - and custom!"
"They are not," Severus hissed, looking anxiously down the empty street.
"Yes, they are, I know quality tailoring when I see it. Well, well, I never thought Severus Snape would have taste, but you do."
"...You think so?" His tone was indifferent.
"Definitely. You have to come shopping with me once I graduate. Regulus insists on wearing whatever's within grasp, and Theya…"
When Severus cringed, she knew elaborating on his girlfriend's colour choices wasn't necessary.
"Alright," he said casually. "I wouldn't hate that."
"Wicked," she pumped a fist, thrilled at finally having found a decent shopping partner. "Now, what are we doing out here?"
"Right," Severus reached into a pocket and tossed something to her. "Wrappings are wasteful so I didn't use them."
Ivy caught the obsidian bracelet and examined the rough stones. "What's this for?"
"I was…" His lip curled a little. "Thinking of you."
"Sure you were."
"Just say thanks and let's be done with it."
"Thanks. But no. You're not a gift giver. What's this about?"
"If you tell me why you haven't put it on yet," the corner of his mouth twitched up slyly. "I'll tell you why I got it for you."
"Ooo," she narrowed her eyes, suddenly very aware that her adornments were still absent. "Theya put you up to this, didn't she?"
Severus held his smirk and shrugged. "Tell me and I'll tell you."
"Fine," she slid the bracelet into the breast pocket of her robes for safe keeping. "I can't put it on. Any of it."
"You can't," he echoed. "Why?"
"You'll think I'm mad."
"I already think that."
"Funny," Ivy pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is different. Besides, I don't think I'll be able to explain well."
"Try," he rolled his eyes.
"Just remember that you asked," Ivy cast a Muffliato, just in case. "I don't understand the why or how of what I'm about to say, so do not bloody ask me."
Severus dipped his head.
"There have been a few times," she rubbed her lips together. "When I've witnessed death, that I've felt part of my soul break off and attach to a nearby item. It happened with Frederick; a piece of my soul latched itself onto the bracelet he gave me. I think that I can tell because of my Divination senses… Once, I felt a piece of soul leave the pin it was contained in and I don't know what happened to it."
Severus cocked his head, surprising her in that he appeared more intrigued than doubtful.
"When Frederick died, I wondered if I was misunderstanding things; if it was actually the person who died's soul that was breaking away. If that's the case and I somehow caused the piece of soul in the pin to disappear, I don't want that to happen with the bracelet. It may be the only piece of Frederick I have left… Does that make a lick of sense?"
"I think so," Severus said wistfully. "You said you can tell all this is happening because of your Divination senses. What does that mean?"
"Objects containing a piece of soul have a sort of ashy feature. Far as I can tell, no one else can see it. I know you can't; the pin on your cloak has the ashes. I'm assuming you wore it during your initiation?"
Severus looked down at the oval pin and nodded.
"Did you…" Ivy lowered her voice despite the Muffliato and being distinctly alone on the frozen road. "Did you feel anything change when you killed at the initiation?"
"I felt like something had broken, but I assumed it was the-" Severus's face went stony.
Ivy was certain she knew what he was going to say and quickly debated whether to finish his sentence for him. It was a risk, and a big one, but something told her this was her chance to start working on him.
"The regret?" She asked softly.
He stiffened and looked at her sharply, as though ready to go on the defensive. However, he merely watched her with meticulous black eyes before giving a terse nod.
"It's alright," Ivy contained the victorious grin that threatened to overcome her features, instead maintaining a grim expression. "I won't tell anyone."
Hearing a twinkle, the door to Madam Puddifoot's swung open and a red-faced couple hurried out, bundled against the cold. They started down the road, not paying her or Severus any mind as they laughed in what sounded like smitten delirium.
Severus stared after them. "Did you regret it? The killing, the… Mark?"
Ivy nodded slowly, deliberately.
"I thought it was just me," his voice was barely louder than the wind.
She was tempted to tell him that Regulus had come to the same conclusion and that Theya was also in agreement. Great as the temptation was, it was easy enough to fight off. If Regulus or Theya got outed, it wouldn't be by her, especially when she didn't know where Severus stood on everything else encompassing their regrets.
"Theya didn't put me up to giving you the bracelet," Severus said suddenly. "I wanted you to have something from me to complete your collection."
Her emotions surged at the notion of him wanting to be a part of her found family; wearing gifted jewellery symbolised as much.
She yanked him into a hug, eyes watering when he hugged her back.
"I'll wear it when I put it all back on," she promised, pulling away.
He nodded, looking misty-eyed. "Want to head back in?"
"So long as the entirety of our conversation stays between us."
"It will."