𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 - the wizarding world

XI. ONE WAY OR ANOTHER

XI. ONE WAY OR ANOTHER
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Laughter rang through the cosy living room, the walls illuminated by the orange light emanating from the crackling fireplace. A young Ivy danced in circles as the record player played the upbeat melody through the air. Her hands held tightly onto her mother's as they spun around each other, shouting the lyrics loudly into the air.

"One way, or another, I'm gonna find ya!" Ivy sang loudly.

Her mother joined in at the next verse, grabbing Ivy tightly and tickling her waist mercilessly, "I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya!"

"Mum, that tickles!" she shouted, running away and around the couch, clutching her stomach.

Astoria smiled broadly and sat down on the couch, taking the cup of tea from Oleander as he walked into the living room, sitting down next her and cuddling her to his chest.

Ivy bounced toward them and took the seat next to Astoria, laying her head on her thigh. She looked up as Oleander pressed a kiss to her mum's hair. God, her mother always had such wonderful hair. Lucious, long black waves that always fell perfectly on her shoulders without any product in it. How she managed that always left Ivy wondering. Ivy had gotten the short end of the straw, inheriting her father's frizzy, red hair.

Astoria softly ran her hand through her daughter's wavy hair, smiling down as she saw Ivy close her eyes. "Sweetheart?" she asked quietly.

Ivy nodded tiredly.

"I love you so much," she said, her voice thick with emotion, "and I am so proud of you. I just know you are going to do great things."

Ivy didn't remember nodding off, but she must have, because when she felt herself waking up slowly, a different record was playing from the living room; 'Each morning I get up I die a little, can barely stand on my feet, take a look in the mirror and cry, Lord what you're doing to me...' She felt her mother beside her on the bed as she sat up, flattening down her hair, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light streaming in from the window. She could hear her father downstairs preparing breakfast.

"Morning, mum..." Ivy said, kissing her mother's bald head. Still, even with the hair loss, she looked as ethereal as ever to eight-year-old Ivy.

Her mother's eyes stayed closed.

"Mum, wake up. I reckon dad's almost done." Her mother didn't respond. "Come on," she said, poking her mother's arm, "tea's probably getting cold already."

Ivy waited for her mother to wake up, smile at her and hug her tightly to her chest. She didn't.

"Mum?" Ivy asked quietly, pushing her mother's shoulder a little harsher than before. "Mum, you gotta wake up." Her voice wavered as the sinking feeling deepened in her stomach, her heart pounding in her chest.

Shaking, she slowly put her ear to her mother's chest. There was nothing to be heard. Pleading whispers to her mother all got muddled together with the tears and sobs racking through her body.

The moment Ivy opened her eyes she realized she had been dreaming. Dreaming of those days, just like she did every year since it had happened. The day before they had learned of her mother's disease, and the day she had lost the battle against it.

She was glad to have woken up in an empty dorm, just so Angelina and Katie didn't have to see her crying in her bed. She didn't know how long she stayed like that, but when she finally gathered enough courage to get up and get dressed, the corridors were empty and the classes were full. Ivy couldn't get herself to care that she had missed Defense Against the Dark Arts and probably the first part of Potions.

Blinking harshly, Ivy tried to get rid of the red rimming her eyes and after being unsuccessful in doing so, she opened the wooden door to the classroom with its usual loud creaking.

"Miss Evans," Snape's voice drawled through the room. Ivy bowed her head down as she waited for detention. "Take your seat, quickly now. Five points from Gryffindor." Ivy quickly covered up her shocked expression and rushed to her seat next to Iris.