Mayhem - G.Weasley

9. A Weasley and a Cactus

"She'll come to find your dead bodies."

"NO." Ivy shot forward so fast she flung herself out of her bed. She landed nimbly on her feet in a crouched position, her wand in her hand gripping like a knife.

For a moment, all Ivy could see were their broken bodies and her failure to keep them safe.

"Ivy." A cautious voice sounded from next to her.

Ivy blinked furiously in that direction, trying to clear her clouded vision as she hyperventilated.

George was kneeling down next to her, the epitome of worry and concern all over his face.

"You're alright." He reached a hand out slowly and wrapped it around her tightly gripped wand. Ivy let him take it from her fingers and set it off to the side. His calloused fingers softly brushing against hers. She welcomed the cool touch on her hotter-than-normal skin. "You're safe."

Subconsciously, her hand connected with his and squeezed.

He's real. It's all real.

Ivy pulled her hand back after the brief contact, not knowing why she did it.

"What happened?" She felt weak as she couldn't control her voice from shaking.

As if noticing his hand was still reaching towards her, he withdrew it back to his side. "You were wicked. I've never seen anyone fight like that."

He helped her stand up and guided her back to the bed. She took a moment to look around, realizing she was back in the infirmary.

"How did I get here?" Ivy turned to peer up at George but the healer, Madam Pomfrey interrupted whatever he was about to say.

"Not even twenty four hours Ivianna, and you're already back!" One of George's eyebrows quirked.

"Sorry?" Ivy didn't know what to say. She searched around the infirmary, not finding Harry anywhere, or any of her new friends either.

Except for George.

"How's Harry?" She asked to no one in particular.

"Better. He's with Dumbledore now." George answered, sitting down beside her, the bed dipping under his weight.

Madam Pomfrey handed her a peculiar liquid in a clear glass.

She took it, but didn't dare drink. Ivy brought the glass to her nose and sniffed before quickly setting the glass down on her side table.

Pomfrey gave her a stern look, but couldn't force her to drink.

"Dumbledore wants to see you as soon as you're feeling better." She informed her.

"I'm feeling better." Ivy stood and almost immediately regretted it. George's hand on the small of her back was the only thing keeping her from falling.

"Just rest a little longer and drink your medicine." Pomfrey insisted, picking up the glass and shoving it towards her.

"I said I'm alright." Ivy said, harsher than she meant to.

She just didn't trust strange liquids, especially not after what happened to her two years ago.

"I-I'm sorry." Ivy stuttered and gave the woman an apologetic smile. "I'm fine. I promise."

Ivy was able to stand on her own, the dizziness now subsided. She swatted away George's hand that was still on her lower back with a scowl.

Madam Pomfrey gave George a look, the two of them silently communicating in front of Ivy. The latter scoffed as she took big strides towards the door, sweeping up her wand on the way out.