Chapter Text
Today was the Halloween ball.
Ivy observed her appearance in the mirror.
Her physique was accentuated by the tight strapless black corset dress, which fitted her like second skin. She felt as though she was unable to breathe, her two bosoms bulging out. It was held firmly in place by a lace at the front and was covered in embroidered lace patterns with sprinkles of glitter, littered here and there, which gleamed brightly in the light. Her long, flowing chiffon gown resembled a worn feather, with a long slit running down her left leg, exposing her delicate pale skin, which was littered with faint scars. A choker made of black lace, adorned with gemstones and embroidered patterns, hung around her neck and fell down to the centre of her chest. Long, lacy, transparent black gloves encircled her arms, and she was grateful for them because, even though it was hidden, they covered that scar. She had worn black heels, which gave her a few more heights than she already was, making her feel somewhat intimidating. Two large, black, feathered wings that were attached to her shoulder blades dangled from her back, almost reaching the ground. They were soft to the touch and were bewitched to move as they stretched out before curling back into their original posture.
Agnes had artfully arranged her dark brown hair in slight waves, which cascaded down to her back. Her makeup was done by Beatrice, who had made her eyebrows dark and applied smoky, dark eyeshadow with hints of crimson under her eyes and over her eyelids to make her grey orbs stand out. She had applied artificial lashes and black eyeliner with a winged tip. Faint lines of red were drawn beneath her eyes like veins. She herself had chosen to coat her lips in dark, rich crimson with a hint of gloss to give her plump lips a juicy effect. Overall, she was surprised that her makeup had corresponded with her pale complexion, giving her a rather gothic look.
Grabbing her wand, she secured it around her bare leg, making sure it remained hidden in case she needed it and making it easy to get a hold of. She then checked around her wrist for Hermione's beaded bag, which she transfigured into a bracelet. When she noticed that it stayed in its original location, she exhaled with relief. She needed that bag for her plan.
Nodding to herself, she reached for her dark linen cloak and shrouded herself in it, pulling up the hood.
The door opened, and Agnes entered, her head adorned with a golden headband embroidered with blue jewels. Her red hair was gone and was replaced with black short hair instead, some of which was in braids. She wore wide eyeliner with winged tips and blue makeup that complemented her ocean-coloured eyes. There were tiny gemstones and glitter around her eyes and bare shoulders. Her lips were coated in a natural gloss pink. Adorned on her ears were round earrings in shades of cobalt blue and gold. The wide necklace that hung past her shoulders was the same hue. She wore a tight, white dress that enhanced her figure, with the bottom of her dress being half blue, which connected with her blue cloak. A golden waist band was wrapped around and clasped around her wrists were golden bangles, and tight bandages that were wrapped around her arms to give her the appearance of a mummy.
“Ivy were—OH MY GODRIC!” She squealed and put a palm over her mouth.
She ran and grabbed Ivy by the arms as she exclaimed, “You look absolutely beautiful—scary but beautiful!"
Ivy blushed. “Ah, thank you! You look beautiful yourself!"
Agnes glanced down at herself and smirked, “Really? I mean, I should be seeing as I am going as Cleopatra!"
She then casted a tempus and shrieked. “sh*t! We're going to be late! Come on, let's go!"
She ran to the door with her hand clasped over Ivy's arm, dragging her along, who quickly grabbed her scythe before leaving.
Upon arriving at the great hall, Beatrice, Eleanor, and Pomline greeted Ivy.
Beatrice wore a crimson Spartan warrior's armour, one hand clutching a golden shield and the other a spear. Eleanor was dressed as a creepy doll, and in her arms she held a miniature version of herself dressed in the same short, white ruffled frock, with a large pink bow tie clasped around the neck. Her blonde hair fell down to her shoulders in soft ringlets. Pomeline had on the costume of a mad potioneer whose experiment had gone awry. It was as if she knew the future, Ivy mused to herself.
Together, they entered the great hall. Skeletons posing as waiters were serving the students while bats flew around and screeched. The brilliant yellow glow of the pumpkins throughout the great hall followed them as they searched for a vacant table. Students were chatting away; some were dancing on the dance floor as they laughed at one another, and others were gossiping about one another.
In the distance, Ivy could see Septimus motioning for them to come and sit down with hand gestures. When they got there, Septimus got up and circled.
“Guess what I am?” He asked enthusiastically.
Rolling her eyes, Beatrice questioned, “Yourself?"
He scowled. “No.” His face lit up with delight. ”I'm a zombie. A quidditch one! Can’t you tell from the green and the teeth?"
“Oh!” Beatrice chuckled and smiled sweetly. “I hadn't noticed! looked the same to me."
With a scowl, Septimus sagged back into his chair, crossing his arms across his chest.
“So what are you meant to be, Fleamont?” Agnes inquired.
Fleamont snapped out of his daze and cleared his throat. “Hm?”
Agnes gave a huff. “Your costume?? What are you??"
With another clearing of his throat, Fleamont stood.
"Well, as you can see,” he said as he held up his hairy hands. “I'm a werewolf!"
“A…werewolf in quidditch clothing?” Ivy asked slowly as her eyes moved up and down at Fleamont's appearance.
Fleamont scratched the back of his neck and answered, "Yeah... Septimus here wanted to ‘twin’ so we opted to dress in quidditch robes.”
“Hey guys!” Ivy recognised the happy voice as being that of Mabel. “Isn't it great! You all look great, by the way."
When Agnes noticed who Mabel was clinging to, she frowned. “And why is he here?"
Mabel rolled her eyes and gave Agnes a playful slap on the arm. ”Don't be mean!"
“Jeremiah!” Releasing himself from his pout, Septimus stood to shake hands with him. “You look absolutely horrific, mate!"
“Can you guess what we are?” Mabel giggled.
Ivy observed Mabel's costume.
She was dressed in a long bridal gown that had the corset and skirt embellished with gemstones. Above her head, she wore a transparent wedding veil, and in the middle of her chest, a deeply punctured knife left a scarlet stain on the otherwise white outfit. Her shoulders were adorned with a pair of tiny, white wings that resembled an angel. Dark mascara trailed down her cheeks, giving the impression that she had been crying.
Ivy turned to Jeremiah.
He had on a white poet shirt with ruffles and fitted blue trousers. There was a belt around his waist that contained a sword. Blood was streaming down the side of his mouth, and his face appeared eerily white, as if he had been poisoned.
“Romeo and Juliet." She blurted out.
Mabel let out a squeal and leaped to her feet as Jeremiah cheered.
“Yes!” He said enthusiastically. “I believe we haven't met?”
He extended his hand. “Jeremiah Bridgeworth.”
Ivy took his hand and shook it. “Ivy Everlyn."
He let go and chuckled. “Oh! My Mabel has told me everything about you!"
Ivy smiled awkwardly in response and nodded, unsure of what to say.
“Not everything!” Mabel let out a moan while pulling on Jeremiah's arm. “Let's go get a drink! I'm thirsty, Jerjer!” Jerjer?
When they had left, Agnes turned to Beatrice and whispered, “Who is Romeo and Juliet?"
Ivy turned to face Agnes and announced that she too was going to get a drink. Agnes nodded and turned to continue her conversation with Beatrice.
Ivy eventually made it to the drinks table after running into a number of students who were dancing. When she had filled her cup and raised it to her parted lips, she halted when she heard a voice.
“I wouldn't drink that if I were you.” The male stated, "I just wanted to let you know I saw some Gryffindor's spike it."
Setting down the cup, Ivy faced the unfamiliar person.
She almost jumped back when she took in his appearance. He looked like Sirius. He had the same long, curly, textured hair that fell down to his neck. He had the same grey eyes as Sirius. It was as if she was gazing into the future.
“Alphard Black.” With a grin, he extended his hand. Merlin, he even has the same grin as Sirius.
She took his hand and held back a gasp as he kissed her knuckles instead of shaking.
“Ivy Everlyn, it's a pleasure to meet you.” She answered, appreciative that her voice didn't sound tremulous.
“Oh! The pleasure is all mine, and I know who you are.” He said as he released her hand. “I've heard many things about you. One that happened quite recently."
Ivy blushed and looked down. "I, uh, I see."
Alphard chuckled, “I've also heard and seen what you did to Rosier.”
He inclined himself forward and whispered, “If you ask me, he deserved it.” He leaned back and winked.
Ivy giggled, and her face slowly became one of sadness. He was so much like Sirius. The resemblance was uncanny!
Upon seeing her sadness, Alphard furrowed his brow and inquired, “What appears to be upsetting you?"
Startled, Ivy looked up and saw worry etched on Alphard's face. f*ck.
She cleared her throat. “N-nothing just thinking about my family and friends is all.”
Alphard smiled and spoke in a gentle tone. "You know, the people you love never truly leave you.” Then he gestured to the space between her ribs on her chest. “They are there, you see…always close by."
Ivy stared at him, tears welling up in her eyes, as Alphard continued to smile down at her. She didn't know how desperately she needed to hear that.
The serene moment ended as a hand clasped onto Alphard's shoulder, roughly as the speaker chuckled.
“Ah! Alphard, what are y-Oh.” Rosier said as he glanced at Ivy, hatred emitting from his gunmetal blue eyes. “If it isn't the mudblood.” His gaze swept up and down, resting on her bare leg and chest.
She clicked her fingers and snarled, “My eyes are up here, perv."
He sneered and opened his mouth to speak before another voice interrupted.
“What's this? Alphard? What are you doing with the mudblood?” With a flourish, Malfoy took a sip from his goblet and inquired. Then he turned to face Ivy, his eyes devouring as he took her in, and took a slow look at her attire.
“My, my. I must admit...the mudblood does up nicely.” He mused as he licked his lips. “Quite the figure you have mudblood. Say, I'm available after this…”
She shook with anger, her fists locked at her sides. Before she could respond, someone else's voice was heard.
“So, Rosier, this is the mudblood that's in our house and attacked you?” A man with brunette hair that was gelled back had inquired.
"Yes, Avery, this is the one.” Rosier sneered as he took a gulp from his glass.
Avery chuckled and studied Ivy's physique from top to bottom. “Have to agree with Abraxas here; she does do up nicely for a mudblood. It appears as though they do have uses after all."
The boys laughed whilst Alphard turned to face them as he said angrily, “That's enough!”
Malfoy stopped laughing and sneered. “What's this? A Black drawn to filth? What would your father say, Alphard, if he knew his son was a blood traitor?”
Gritting his teeth, Alphard grabbed the cup that Ivy had filled for herself. “f*ck off, Malfoy.” And with that, he gave Abraxas a shoulder shove and left.
Malfoy grinned and turned to face Ivy again. She glared at him in response, but he only chuckled. She huffed through her nostrils and lifted her hand to slap him, but Malfoy smirked and grabbed her outstretched arm tightly by the wrist before her palm could make contact.
“Hope you're this feisty in bed.” He winked as the boys around him laughed.
She clenched her fist so tight that she could feel her nails piercing into the tender skin of her palms, the wounds on her left palm on the brink of opening.
She clenched her jaw tightly and tore her arm out of his grasp, sneering. "Oh, I will be... feisty enough that you won't be able to feel between your legs.” She then turned and walked away, heading for the table where her friends were seated.
Lyall was the sole inhabitant present when she arrived at the table. He told her that the others were on the dance floor when she inquired where they were. She turned to face the dance floor, where she spotted Agnes and Beatrice dancing and laughing heartily. The music was lively, but Mabel and Jeremiah were waltzing next to them. On the other side of them were Eleanor and Pomline, who were giggling hysterically at the way Septimus and Fleamont were mocking them, both holding each other in their arms as they waltzed.
She smiled to herself and casted a tempus. Her smile faded. It was time.
Ivy scanned the great hall, looking for the infamous dark-haired boy. His complexion and stature made him easy to recognise, with his pale skin radiating against the golden lights. His dark hair was slick back with gel, and a single curl fell over his forehead. He wore a black ruffled neck tie and was dressed in a white Victorian dress shirt with a black dress vest over the shirt and black Victorian trousers. Shrouded around him was a deep black satin cloak with a long collar, the inside of the cloak being crimson.
He chuckled at something Professor Slughorn had said. Pure white, elongated, sharp canines flashed beneath the light. His eyes had changed from their previous hard, absorbing dark colour to a vivid deep carmine that gleamed against the great hall's fiery tone. The very same red eyes that her friends had last seen...that Harry had seen. The very same red eyes she was familiar with. The very same red eyes which haunted her in her sleep. With a swallow, she turned her back and headed for the exit.
She released a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding when she made her escape. With a determined expression, she made her way towards the first floor girl's bathroom.
Upon arriving at the bathroom, she checked to see if Myrtle was around. She wasn't. She then locked herself in a stall and removed Hermione's beaded bag from around her wrist. With a wave of her hand, the bag enlarged itself. She began to strip herself from the hooded cloak and placed it into the beaded bag, her scythe following. Then she reached into the bag, her fingertips brushing against a silky, fluid-like material, she brought it out, and set it down. She then brought out her wand and muttered, “Accio, marauders map.” Out flew into her hands an old, tea-stained piece of parchment.
With a grin, she dwindled Hermione's beaded bag and placed it around her wrist once again. With the two objects in her hands, she internally thanked Hermione. She then shrouded herself in Harry's invisibility cloak and opened the map. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
The whole Hogwarts castle and grounds, in their entirety, appeared on the map, showing the actions of both ghostly and human occupants. Ivy kept an eye on the name of the head boy as she exited the bathroom, hurrying towards her destination.
She was standing in front of a Renaissance painting depicting a couple entwined in vines, sinking in murky water, with lotus flowers blooming above them and their hands aching to touch.
She muttered the password, and the two lovers looked around in confusion as they opened the portrait door. They shrugged and continued to attempt to reach for one another.
Emerald enveloped Ivy as she entered the head's common room. It was as if she were in the Slytherin common room. She rolled her eyes. She didn't have to guess who designed the room.
Emancipating herself, she turned left and ascended the steps to the foreboding door, which stood in anticipation. With her wand extended, she performed a diagnostic to find any wards or curses she may need to remove. There were none.
Was she standing at the wrong door?
She hesitantly reached her hand towards the door handle. Her hand hovered over the handle for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and wrapping her hand around it. She didn't feel anything. She was not hurled from the door or cursed.
She took another breath and turned the handle. It was locked. She let go, exhaling.
He had put a password? Her brows furrowed. He had put a password rather than using magical wards? That's very…muggle of him. Well, he is a half blood, is he not?
She sighed and began brainstorming possible passwords.
“Voldemort,” she uttered in a whisper.
The door remained locked. She kissed her teeth and repeated herself.
“I am Lord Voldemort.” Again, she whispered.
The door didn't budge.
She thought again, her bottom lip pressed between her teeth.
“Um…Nagini?” She muttered.
The door remained as it was.
She let out a groan and began babbling out anything that came to mind.
“I am a dark lord!”
“Marvolo!”
“Heir of Slytherin!”
“Salazar!”
“Salazar Slytherin?!”
“Snake lord?!”
“Basilisk!”
“I am a murderer!”
“I killed my dad!”
Her expression became one of shock.
Ohh dad!
“No… Tom Riddle, Sr! Wait… That couldn't possibly be his password—he detested his father!”
Her countenance returned to one of concentration before it became one of excitement.
Ah yes! his mother!
“Merope Gaunt!”
The door remained as it was.
“Merope?”
"Oh, for goodness sake!” She huffed and stuck her hands out into the air as she cried out anything that came to mind: “Horcruxes?! Power?! Dark arts! Souls?! Hate?! Potions! Amortentia?!”
The door made a faint click.
Ivy's jaw was hung open as she fixed her wide eyes on the door. She didn't think that would work. She had just randomly said that, as it was the product that caused his unfortunate existence.
Hesitantly, she pulled open the door. Her vision was once again filled with flashes of black and emerald. Oh, he designed the common room, alright. Despite the colours being cold, the room was warm. She inhaled. It smelt of parchment, and there was a faint smell of cologne and cinnamon.
She glanced down at the map. Tom was still in the great hall, as was the head girl. She still had time.
She shrugged off Harry's cloak and started to rummage through his belongings. She hastily made her way over to his bed, ensuring not to trip over her dress as she did so. She lifted the pillows and looked beneath the mattress and the bed, but she was unable to find anything.
She huffed and bolted to the right side of the bed, where a nightstand rested. She opened the cabinet door and searched discreetly. There were just fragments of paper and books, some muggle, but none of them was the ominous black leather. She stood with her hands on her hips as she huffed. Where could it be?
Her gaze swept throughout the room before stopping at the wardrobe. Of course.
She quickly walked over to the wardrobe and slammed open the doors. She rummaged through clothing after clothing. Nothing.
She dropped to her knees, pulled open the bottom drawers, and repeated the action. Nothing.
She slammed the drawers closed.
Where could he have put it? She thought to herself as she nibbled on her bottom lip.
She got up and took another look around. There was another door. Of course, the bathroom?
She crossed the room and pulled open the door. She opened the cabinet doors of the mirror and searched. There were nothing but bars of soap and shower supplies.
She fled back into the room, stumbling over her dress as she did so.
How could Ibe so foolish to not check in his trunk?
She dove under his bed, bending over on her hands and knees. She pulled out the trunk and unlocked it with a wave of her hand. With a faint click, which indicated that it was unlocked, she opened it. She dug through and discovered a tonne of sinister books, one of which she herself currently had on her: Secrets of the Darkest arts. She grimaced and sealed the trunk.
Magic acting as her last resort, she took out her wand and accioed for the diary.
Nothing flew into her hands.
She scowled and turned to glance at the map.
Tom's name had disappeared.
She blinked twice and checked once more.
Her vision hadn't been deceiving her the first time. Tom was no longer in the great hall. She followed his movements around the map, seeing that he was heading for the fifth floor. She hurriedly went to the invisibility cloak, tripping over the fabric of her dress in the process, and wrapped it around herself. She breathed a sigh of relief to find herself concealed due to her reflection in the mirror. Her sigh of relief was cut short as she took in the room.
She had left it in a burglary state.
The pillows had lost their plumpness and structure, seeming more like they had been bounced on. Some of his garments protruded from the drawers and were scattered on the floor.
With a quick wave of her hand, the bed returned to the way it had been when she entered, and the clothing neatly folded themselves back into the drawers, the wardrobe closing with a quiet click.
With the map in her tight clutches, she scanned her eyes through the fifth floor, but before she could attempt to pinpoint Tom's whereabouts, his room door clicked open.
She held her palm over her mouth and shuffled quietly into a corner as she watched Tom enter and stand at the front of his bed.
She held in her gasp as she saw him begin to strip from his clothing.
The vampire satin cloak dropped to the ground as he removed it. He yanked the necktie violently from his smooth throat, and it fell onto the ground next to the cloak. He started taking the buttons off the dark dress vest and threw it to the side alongside his other abandoned clothes.
With one hand, he began unbuttoning his white shirt.
Ivy looked away for a second before slowly bringing her gaze back to him for some reason; she didn't know why.
He was shirtless now, his smooth, pale flesh glowing in the low light. His body was slender, with well-defined muscles in the right areas and a wonderfully toned abdomen and torso. Her gaze trailed past his faint, delicate abs and down to his v-line, trailing lower. She halted and averted her eyes.
She grimaced at her behaviour. What was she doing?
Her thoughts were cut off when Tom abruptly stepped across the room, towards the bathroom. Her eyes widened.
sh*t! She had left it open! How could she have forgotten?!
Her hands began to secrete as she watched Tom stand there for a while, gazing at the bathroom door. She held in another gasp, her brows furrowed as she noticed faint marks across his soft, muscular back. What on earth…?
There was a knock on the door, and she gave a little start. She held in her breath as she watched Tom swiftly put on his shirt, buttoning it up perfectly before walking towards his door to open it.
“It's the head girl, Riddle.” She recognised the voice as being Lyall. “She's sort of drunk? Professor Slughorn insisted on your assistance."
A brief flash of irritation passed through his eyes before it morphed back into emptiness.
He smiled charmingly and nodded. “Lead the way."
They both left the room as the door closed with a soft click.
Ivy released her hand from her mouth and inhaled sweet air, gasping. After that, she took out the marauders map and observed the two figures leaving the common room.
Once the two figures were no longer roaming the fifth floor, Ivy pulled open Tom's door and rushed down the stairs, and out of the common room, the two lovers groaning as the portrait door banged shut.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she ran and ran, her legs taking her somewhere. She had failed once again. She had failed to keep the promise. She was unable to find the dairy. How was she to kill Riddle now? He was still immortal! He was going to live while her friends would stay rotting six feet below!
She halted as she stood in front of a blank wall. Liquid began streaming down her cheeks, snot dripping down from her nostrils as she sniffed. Suddenly, a door appeared, and Ivy opened it without any delay.
Streaks of honey yellow and burnt orange met her wake. With the fireplace burning and cosy knitted cushions tucked under sagging sofas, the space exuded warmth. She inhaled. It smelled of blueberry mince pies and freshly mown grass. She knew this place. It was the burrow.
She removed the invisibility cloak and walked over to the sofa, her hands trailing over the rough fabric. It even felt the same way. Warm. Consoling. Home.
Slumping to the ground, she felt the tears start to flow once more. She was a failure. She had failed for Hermione, Harry, Ron, her parents…everyone!
She sobbed uncontrollably while cradling her head in her hands. She was weak. Hermioneshould've never entrusted her with this mission. She had gotten nowhere to get rid of the devil's spawn! She was back to square one.
Something glistened in the distance. She looked up, wiping tears from her tear-streaked eyes. It was a mirror. That wasn't in the burrow.
She got up and walked cautiously up to the strange object.
She sobbed when she saw that her loved ones were standing next to her in the reflection. She pivoted and discovered no one. She looked back at the magical mirror, confused, and then laughed to see her companions waving. She gave a wave back, tears welling up in her eyes. There they were. Her friends and family were all smiling at her happily. Together.
Ron had his arm around Hermione, who was giving Ivy a tender look, while Harry had his hand intertwined with Ginny, who was grinning brightly up at Ivy. The members of the order, Luna who was standing beside a radiant Neville, Dobby, Fred, George and her departed classmates, had gathered around them. They were all happy. They no longer had the emptiness in their eyes that she had last seen. No. Rather, they shone brightly, their smiles illuminating the room. They were no longer drenched in blood and dirt but were dressed immaculately, as though they had never engaged in a battle.
Her parents were on the other side of her; her mother touched her shoulder, while her father looked at her with pride.
With a smile, Ivy dried her eyes while her mother mouthed with tears in her warm eyes, I love you.
Oh, how she wished she could hear the softness of her voice once more.
Her eyes jerked back to Hermione, who suddenly moved closer, her hand against the glass, tears running down her cheeks as she smiled. Ivy followed, their hands touching one another despite the barrier of the cold glass.
We're all so proud of you, Hermione mouthed out. You've been so strong.
Ivy choked on a sob as she smiled. Maybe she hadn't failed. There was still a chance to finish this off.
Her expression became one of determination as she responded, “Don't worry. I won't allow this to happen."
She turned to face the others. “We'll always be together, in this life as well as the next."
She leaned her head against the glass as she wailed silently, salt staining the mirror.
That night, Ivy spent her time gazing up at the mirror until she fell unconscious, sleeping soundly knowing that she had slept with the company of her loved ones once more.
Ivy awoke to just herself staring back at her in the reflection.
Her makeup flowing down past her eyes was dry and crusty. Her lips were no longer glossy but were chapped, and smears of red were across her left cheek. She was still dressed in her ebony dress, and her wings had sagged against the ground on either side of her. She looked like she'd been through hell.
With a groan, she rose slowly, her legs akin to jelly, and moved towards the bathroom the room seemed to provide for her.
Upon entering, she unwrapped Hermione's beaded bag from around her wrist and enlarged it, accioing her supplies. She then stripped out of her dress, vanished the beautiful broad wings, scorgified her makeup, and stepped into the steamy shower. She sighed blissfully as the hot water collided against her skin.
After putting on a pair of jeans and a sweater that she had just happened to find in Hermione's beaded bag, she gave the burrow one last look before heading out.
She turned around, and the door vanished behind her, leaving only an empty wall.
With a sigh, she strolled down the deserted hallways as the sun gleamed brightly through the glass windows. She groaned to herself. Her friends would be bombarding her with questions as to where she was yesterday.
She rubbed her hands over her face. Yesterday. She hadn't found the diary at all. What was she to do now? Kill him despite being immortal?
She halted when she got near the doors of the great hall. Did she really need to enter?
She shook her head and reconsidered a trip to the Black Lake would be better. Merlin knew she was in need of a bit of fresh air.
Upon arriving at the black lake, Ivy sat down onto the cold grass and began throwing pebbles into the lake, watching as they toppled over the tranquil water before eventually sinking down.
It was quiet. Ivy could hear nothing but the faint caws of the crows as they soared through the barren sky and the plops of the stones striking the murky water. The sun reflected brightly against the lake as the branches of the trees rustled along the breeze.
Ivy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The aroma of dirt and salt permeated her nostrils, causing her to let out an elated sigh.
She could hear faint footsteps and giggles behind her as they drew in closer, whispering to one another.
“Well, well… What do we have here?” Walburga said as she giggled. “If it isn't the filthy mudblood whor*! What happened to that clothing you call a dress?"
“Probably got ripped apart by Malfoy and the others.” Druella sneered. “Heard she was after my brother as well! slu*t!"
Ivy clenched her fists as she tried to block them out.
Walburga scoffed. “Perhaps Selwyn was right after all... She definitely eagerly spreads her legs wide for any male."
She laughed. "That's a mudblood for you. Filthy creatures with no sense of adequate.”
Scowling, she said angrily, “And to think she tried it with my brother as well (“What?! Alphard?!") But worry not; my brother won't fall for her evil charms to bed him!"
“Perhaps we ought to teach her a lesson, Wally.” Druella suggested. “She seems to think she has privileges, and she has caused the likes of her breed to stand on two legs!"
Walburga chuckled, “I believe you're right, Dru; the mudblood needs to learn her place! She would think twice before clutching a Black after I'm done with her. Although I won't be able to get rid of the whor* buried deep within, seeing as it's in her filthy blood after all."
She sneered. “Like mother, like daughter.”
Ivy clenched her jaw, got to her feet, and marched towards Walburga, her wand raised, pointing aggressively under her chin.
“Shut up.” She hissed out.
In the corner of her eye, she could see a crimson streak that was rapidly approaching her, which she swiftly dodged.
“Get back!” Druella shrieked, pointing her wand at Ivy and casting another spell at her.
Ivy deflected it and sent a bombarda, causing Druella to shriek as she was thrown forcefully against a tree.
With a gasp, Walburga turned and ran to Druella, calling out, “Dru!"
When Druella hadn't responded, Walburga faced Ivy, her eyes engulfed with rage as she pointed her wand, a curse beneath her tongue, but before she could utter a word, her wand was flown out of her grasp.
“What is going on here?” Tom inquired as he fiddled with Walburga's wand.
With a cry of, “Oh Tom!" Walburga hurried towards Tom. "Look at what she did to Dru!"
Tom glanced at Druella, then turned to glance at Ivy before returning his gaze back to Walburga, who now had tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Miss Black, please take Miss Rosier to the infirmary while I deal with Miss Everlyn here.” His eyes did not quite match the smile on his face.
What the hell did that mean? Did he know that I snuck into his room yesterday? Oh Merlin!
Walburga gave a frenzied nod. “Y-yes Tom, right away!” She then took her wand from Riddle and levitated Druella onto a floating stretcher.
Before leaving, she turned and gave Ivy a smirk, to which Ivy responded with a glare.
“Look at me.” He murmured icily.
She lifted her head to give him a glance. He was wearing his school attire; his hands were behind his back as he advanced a step. She felt the impulse to back off, but she kept put.
“Where were you yesterday?” he inquired softly.
She gulped. In your room. “I-i wasn't feeling well…so I left."
He advanced another step, to which she now took a step back.
“You weren't feeling well?” He repeated slowly as he took another step forward, to which she took another step back, her rear brushing against a tree.
She nodded.
“And you went to your common room?” he inquired, pausing before her and glancing down at her silhouette.
She hesitantly nodded as she peered up at him.
Abruptly, he pushed her backward, his hand encircling her throat and the tree's bark piercing into her spine.
“Don't lie to me.” He hissed out as he pressed harder at her trachea, causing her eyes to bulge in fear. “You didn't go to the common room last night. In fact, you weren't even sick, because if you were, you'd be in the infirmary as of right now, where Miss Selwyn is currently. So I'll ask you once more…where were you yesterday?"
If he knew she was in his room, going through his belongings, she was sure she would've been struck by his killing curse by now. So why did he care?!
His hold slightly relaxed when he sensed something dig into his stomach.
“Let go of me.” Ivy gritted out slowly and dug her wand deeper. “Now.”
Tom smirked and let go, stepping back.
“I was simply concerned is all.” He said as he smiled.
His hands returned to his back as he nodded his head slightly. “Good day, Miss Everlyn.” And with that, he turned and strolled in the direction of the castle along the pathway.
Ivy watched as his body retreated until it was completely hidden from her view. She reached up to stroke her throat and released a shaky breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. Asshole.
Ivy was sitting in the great hall and was consuming a hazelnut chocolate cake, enjoying how the sweet taste melted down her throat before she could hear the faint hooting of owls arriving, signifying that the mail had arrived.
She jumped back, startled, when an ebony owl flew down with a fancy envelope in his beak. Glancing at the purple paper, she accepted the letter. That's odd. She never gets posts.
After feeding the owl a bit of her cake, it flew away along with the others.
“I was wondering when you'd get one.” Lyall said from beside her. “About time!”
She stared at him in confusion and held the letter up. “What is it?”
“Open it and see for yourself.” He grinned as he went back to read his daily prophet.
She turned back to the letter and gazed at it once more before tearing it open. With the paper held in her hands, she began to read its contents.
To Miss Everlyn,
I am proud to announce your membership in the Slug Club!
A club that is entitled to talented students such as yourself, where meetings and parties are frequently held.
There is a meeting later tomorrow, so please dress in a fashionable yet appropriate way!
If, however, you sadly wish to not join, simply disregard this letter, and I shall know. However, if you would like to participate, your arrival later tomorrow will demonstrate this and fill me with joy!
Hope to see you today!
Many thanks,
Professor H. Slughorn
(Host of the Slug Club)
With a look of bewilderment and incredulity on her face, she folded the letter. She had been invited to join the slug club? She was never invited during her time; only Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were. She was baffled, to say the least.
“Read it then?” Lyall inquired as he closed his newspaper.
“Yes.” Ivy said as she turned to face him. She would have to act like she knew nothing of this club. “What exactly is the…slug club?”
Lyall chuckled. ”Oh right! Of course you wouldn't know! Well, it's a club that Slughorn made for his most talented students, hence the name 'slug'. There are meetings that take place once in a while, where really he just enjoys gossiping."
He placed a finger on his chin. “Then there's the parties, which usually happen during festive times, but he could always change that. Special guests usually come to these parties.”
“I take it your part of this club?” Ivy asked.
Lyall nodded. ”Seeing as you won't know where the club is held, we can go together tomorrow.”
Ivy nodded, then looked up at Professor Slughorn, who was seated at the staff table. He caught her gaze, grinned broadly, and waved. She gave a tentative smile in return and gave a small wave. Her eyes refocused on her cake. Riddle was undoubtedly a member of this club.
She lifted her head and cast a sidelong glance towards the Slytherin table.
There he was conversing and assisting some first years with their homework. He looked up, as if sensing her intense gaze, and their eyes locked again. Neither averted their gaze. Her neck tingled.
Lyall stood, leaning against the wall near the Slytherin common room with Beatrice beside him, their arms folded against their chests as they waited for Ivy to exit.
Slytherin students observed and cast derisive glances at the Gryffindors as they entered their common room and exited.
With a sigh, Lyall pulled back his sleeve and looked at his wristwatch.
“Maybe she declined?” Beatrice remarked as she gazed at her nails.
Lyall shook his head. “No, she agreed that we'd go together."
Beatrice opened her mouth to respond before she closed it as she saw who had exited the Slytherin common room.
Ivy was dressed in a navy long-sleeved square-neck dress that hung slightly above her knees and wore flats. She flashed a radiant smile as she saw her two Gryffindor friends.
“You're early!” Beatrice said sarcastically.
Ivy gave a bashful smile and rubbed her neck. “Yeah…sorry for keeping you both waiting. Bloody Walburga was having the time of her life in the bathroom.”
She blinked twice, confusion forming on her face as she said to Beatrice, “Wait, you're part of the slug club too?!”
Beatrice leaned away from the wall, nodding, and wiped her hands on her knee-length beige dress. “I'm guessing Lyall here didn't mention that, did he?”
"I-it didn't cross my mind at the time.” He said, twiddling his wrist watch uncomfortably. “Blimey! We’re going to be late! Let's go.”
The trio hurried over to Slughorn's office, where the meeting was taking place.
Before entering, Beatrice turned to Ivy and murmured, “Don't be surprised by how many Slytherins there are.”
“I don't think I will be.” Ivy said, grimacing. She was aware of Slughorn's strong preference for his own house.
Lyall knocked and entered, with both Beatrice and Ivy following behind. Multiple heads turned towards the latecomers. Ivy noticed many faces she knew to be from her house. Beatrice hadn't been joking. The club was populated with Slytherins.
“Ah! Mr. Lupin, Miss Fawnburg, and, of course! Our newest addition, Miss Everlyn!” Slughorn said, beaming. “Come in! Come in! Take a seat!”
Ivy felt stares piercing onto her as she made her way towards the table. One she could feel staring intently.
She took a seat between Beatrice and Lyall, with Lyall seated on her left. She raised her head and casted a quick peek forward. Oh for fu-
Across from her was Tom, who was staring at her, unblinking. She turned her head aside and met Malfoy's eyes, who smirked. She grimaced and returned her gaze back down to her plate, which was magically filled with opulent food.
"So, Miss Everlyn! Tell us about yourself!” Slughorn cheerfully said, causing her head to rise from her plate.
She cleared her throat. “What would you like to know?"
Slughorn joined his hands in a grasp. "Well, for starters, what did your parents do in the muggle world, if you don't mind me asking?"
Ivy fiddled with the sleeve of her dress as she replied,”Well my mother was a nurse, while my father was an engineer."
Confusion formed onto Slughorn's face, as did other students. “En…gi…neer? Pray tell, what does an en…gineer? Do?”
“Oh, an engineer is someone who invents and designs machines.” She said as she took a sip from her glass, cherries infiltrating her taste buds.
“Oh! Remarkable!” Slughorn said as he leaned forward brightly.
“So what do you desire to be after graduation, Miss Everlyn?” Slughorn inquired.
“An auror.” She casually said.
Someone choked on their drink while someone else dropped their utensil.
The room went quiet as eyes gazed into her.
“Ah! Very uh high ambitions! Very high ambitions indeed!” Slughorn said as he chuckled nervously. “Haven't heard of a female being an auror! You'll be the first, Miss Everlyn! And a perfect one too, seeing as you are a good duelist!”
He chuckled as he held a hand to his stomach. “You'll give Tom here a good run for his money! Eh Tom, m'boy?”
Tom chuckled. “I'm sure, Professor.” He looked across to Ivy, who looked back at him. “Miss Everlyn may be a good duelist, but the duel between her and I was a tie, unfortunately. There was no real winner."
She scoffed. "Oh, please, I think we both know who the winner was, Riddle.”
“How humble you are, Miss Everlyn.” Tom said as his jaw clenched slightly.
“Ah! As much as I love debating, I believe we should all get to dessert. Yes?” Slughorn said, giving Tom and Ivy a wink.
Beatrice nudged Ivy, causing her to break her gaze with Tom as she turned to face her friend. She was smirking. She knew that smirk very well. Ivy rolled her eyes and gazed downward.
The plates of food disappeared and were replaced with various kinds of desserts. Ivy helped herself to some caramel tart.
Students around the table began conversing with one another while Slughorn spoke to a fellow Ravenclaw about a recent incident that had occurred in the ministry.
"So... you and Riddle, eh? What was that about?” Beatrice asked, raising her eyebrows in a flirtatious manner.
Ivy licked the cream from her spoon and replied, “Merlin, nothing happened, Beatrice. We just had a bit of a…disagreement.”
“Yh disagreement with a bit of tension.” Beatrice stated, stressing the word tension.
She gave a loud sigh. “I could practically feel it from the both of you!”
Muttering under her breath, “It's rather intoxicating if you ask me."
Ivy stared at her and gave her a look. “I'm going to pretend I didn't hear a single word that came out of your mouth.”
She turned back to her cake. “You're delusional."
“Delusional I may be, but you can't deny it.” Her eyes were wide as she gazed at Ivy. “The stares you give each other, anyone would think the same as me! Which they do!"
“Then you're all delusional and need to get help.” Her expression was solemn as she turned to face her friend. “There is no tension between me and Riddle. The tension you're all thinking of, however, is not what it seems to be; it is hatred, Beatrice. Pure envy."
“Why do you hate Riddle so much anyway?" Beatrice, gnawing on a cookie, asked.
Ivy poked at her caramel tart. “There's so many reasons as to why I do.” Some of which I cannot say. “But that doesn't matter; what matters is the fact that there is nothing between us and there never will be.”
Beatrice shrugged. “If you say so..."
She rolled her eyes and turned away.
“Where were you yesterday, Mudblood?” A voice spoke as they sneered from behind. “I was waiting all night yesterday.”
Malfoy gave a tut. "Such bad employment.”
Beatrice scowled and turned back. “f*ck off, Malfoy. Before you lose your pride.”
Malfoy glared. “No one asked for your opinion, half-blood."
Twirling, Ivy gave a menacing glare. “I suggest you do as she says, Malfoy; otherwise, you'll be returning to your bed tonight in a rather painful state."
“You dare to threaten your superior?” Malfoy said as he leaned forward. “You're nothing but filth. Filth to use for pleasure and to do as we please!”
A hand was placed on Malfoy's shoulder, causing him to freeze as his face began to drain colour.
“What is going on here, Abraxas?” Tom inquired softly as his hand tightened.
Abraxas winced and replied, "N-nothing, Tom; I was just conversing with Miss Everlyn here.”
“Is that so?” Tom spoke slowly. “I believe Rowland and Edward are asking for your presence."
Ivy glanced towards Lestrange and Rosier, who were having a rather cheerful conversation.
Malfoy seemed to get the hint and nodded. Tom let go of his shoulder and watched as he walked away. He then turned his gaze back to Ivy and Beatrice.
“Miss Everlyn, Miss Fawnburg.” He nodded, his head bowing slightly. “I hope Abraxas wasn't bothering you both?”
Beatrice sighed, rolling her eyes. “When does he not ever?"
“Seems like someone needs to tighten his leash.” Ivy mumbled as she took a sip from her glass.
Tom looked at her with a blank expression, but she was sure she saw something flicker in those cold eyes.
Beatrice stared at the two with a grin. She cleared her throat and stood abruptly, causing them both to snap their gazes towards her. “Well, I'm just going to see where Lyall is at.”
She nodded towards Tom. “Mr. Riddle.” She turned and left before giving Ivy a brief wink and thumbs up.
No, don't leave me! Ivy wanted to say desperately as she watched Beatrice's retreating form disappear.
Unexpectedly, a hand seized her wrist and pulled her across the room to a door in a distant corner. She was confused as to why no one could see her being man handled by this maniac. She tried to pull her arm back, but it was ineffective as the hand gripping her wrist hadn't budged; instead, it had become more firm. He pressed into her bone, and she stifled a yelp. She was sure a bruise was forming.
Tom opened the door and dragged her along into the tight space as he slammed her against the shelves, the potions behind her wobbling slightly.
She tugged her arm once more and gasped in pain as Tom tightened his grip.
“Just what do you think you're playing at?” He leaned in close, hissing out. “Think you're funny, do you?”
She grimaced and spat, “What are you talking about?! Let me go right now!"
He tightened his grip. “Don't act stupid. Who do you think you are to speak to me in that way?! Know your place, mudblood!”
She barked out in wrath, gritting her teeth and leaned closer. “You're one to talk! Acting as if you're a pureblood! Do your friends know what you really are? What blood runs through those veins of yours?!"
With a darkening expression, Tom aimed his wand intently at her trachea. “What do you know?! How did you…?!”
His wand hand trembled with rage, his yew wood sinking deeper into her throat as he yelled, “TELL ME?!"
“Ah!”, she choked, gasping, and threw her unoccupied hand tightly around his wand arm. “I-it's obvious from your name. Tom is such a muggle name as is Riddle."
Tom's grip on her wrist tightened to the point she could feel it getting cold and numb, her wrist lacking blood flow while his wand was digging deeper into her throat, seemingly ready to penetrate through. She felt tears brim at the corners of her eyes.
The door suddenly opened, and Tom swiftly withdrew his wand as he turned to face the intruder.
Slughorn chuckled, but his smile vanished as he looked at what was in front of him.
“What is going on here?” Slughorn inquired softly as his eyes constantly snapped between the two.
Tom cleared his throat, his mask on display as he spoke. “Ah, Professor, Miss Everlyn wasn't feeling very well, so I brought her here to find a pepperup potion.”
He glanced down in guilt. “I apologise, sir, for not asking for your permission beforehand."
Slughorn's smile returned as he looked at Tom. “Not at all, m'boy! It's quite alright! I'm afraid we're out of stock, which reminds me... I must refill it."
His expression became one of excitement as he clicked his fingers together.
“Ah! Tom, m'boy, its getting close to curfew; everyone else had already left, just you two.” He said as he winked at Tom.
Ivy stared at him in confusion. What? What was he staring at? She followed the trail of his eyes and glanced down. Oh, for goodness sake!
Tom still had his hand wrapped around her wrist tightly. Oh merlin! He’s got the wrong idea!
“Ah, of course, professor, apologies. I'll do my head duties right away.” He walked towards the door, dragging her along while doing so.
“Good night, sir.” He said to Slughorn as he exited his office.
“Have a pleasant night, m'boy!” Slughorn shouted after him before closing the door.
Tom, shockingly enough, let Ivy rip her wrist free from his grasp. He watched as she turned and hurried into the Slytherin common room, the wall sliding back with a thud.
She put her head back against the wall and inhaled deeply, breathing heavily. She winced as she lifted her hand to brush her hair out of her eyes. With her left hand, she rubbed against her right wrist gently, cursing Tom under her breath.
With a grim expression, she made her way towards her dorm.
Before she entered, she could hear voices from outside the door. As she opened the door and entered, the voices subsided as they glared. She glared back and gathered her supplies to get ready for bed.
As she closed her velvet curtains, the whispering began. Ignoring this, she sighed and lowered her head onto her pillow. She raised her right hand and observed the bruise that was forming. She traced her left fingers across the tender flesh gently. Riddle now knew that she knew what he despised most about himself. Now he maybe won't leave her alone at all; instead, he might become more inquisitive. She groaned, ran her fingers through her hair, and tugged. Then there was Slughorn. Now he too thinks there's something between me and Riddle, as if this couldn't get any worse. She knew how big Slughorn's gob was.
Her face was filled with perplexity as her hands left her hair and slumped next to her. Why didn't Riddle convey somehow that there was nothing between the two? Did he... did he even know what Slughorn was insinuating? No…no he definitely knew. Anything to save his skin.
She shook her head and turned to her side, closing her eyes as she drifted off to sleep.
