Murder to Malfoy - D.MALFOY

[43]

The morning of the day of Antony's death anniversary, Ivy was woken by the shaking of her body and a distant whispering, "Ivy, sweetheart?" her father whispered after she half came out of her sleeping state. Feeling awfully groggy and confused, she reached for the wand under her pillow and gripped it tightly before opening her eyes to see who it was.

"Jesus Dad," she sighed deeply, tension in her shoulders dissipating as a relief filled chuckle escaped from her lips. As she laughed, stabs of pain filtered through her skull and pierced the very back of her eyes. She grimaced, blinking her eyes repeatedly to try and get rid of the feeling.

"Morning, or afternoon as I should call it," her father chuckled, sitting down on the bed where she did not lay. Ivy glanced to the clock and felt her eyes widen at the time, one in the afternoon which made some sense since she hadn't actually tried to sleep until gone six in the morning.

"Sorry," she quickly apologised, keeping her voice somewhat low to lessen the impact it had on her throbbing headache. She glanced across the room again, not wanting to look into his eyes in case he figured out what she had got up to the night previous. Only her gaze fell on the empty bottle on her desk, out proud and showing. She briefly wondered if she smelt like it too, hoping to all the gods that she didn't. Ivy had face-timed with Fin for most of the night, switching to Blaise when he woke up in the morning (he woke up at around five) so Fin could sleep and got herself drunk as to not have to deal with the thoughts of Antony. She was just far too scared to sleep. She had practically bolted her windows closed and locked all her doors, thinking that maybe Lucius would come after her too. It wasn't a thought that had ever occurred to her before but it seemed rather poetic to kill two on the same day, a year apart. A calling card, if you will. "I was up late talking to Fin, they're going through something at the minute. I'm not allowed to tell."

"I just wanted to check you were alive and all," her fathers smiled softly, attempting to cover up the slight flinch in his eyes by looking away. Ivy sensed it had occurred, she didn't need to see it. "And ask if you wanted to see a play later today."

She rose a brow, a grin of intrigue forming on her lips, "A play?"

He smiled to himself, knowing that this would be something she would absolutely love. "Romeo a-"

"Yes!" she quickly intrigued grin only growing as a sudden wave of adrenaline shook over her entire body.

"Right well, I'll go and get the tickets then," he laughed, standing up from her bed. She hoped he would just walk out of the room, not linger and look around her room like her parents often did. Her heart sunk to beneath her feet as he walked across the room, picking up the empty bottle from the bottom. "Make sure you take a shower before your Maman sees you. She might not condone the drinking."

He placed the bottle under his arm and tapped his nose, smiling as he went to walk out of the door. "Love you, Dad," she half yelled, making sure he heard despite being in the corridor instead.

"Love you too," he yelled back, the sound bringing back the awful headache that her adrenaline had taken away for a split second. After a few further minutes of rest, laying in her bed to try and overcome the headache and the sudden sour feeling that arose in her throat, Ivy begrudgingly climbed out of her bed and walked over to the windows in her room. She unbolted them and threw them open, finding the warm summery air ever so satisfying as it removed some of the lingering alcoholic smell that she now found rather obvious. She opened all the windows and then went to shower, planning to down a potion that she had recently brewed to rid the stress headaches that had become her normality.

-

"Woah," Ivy muttered to herself, staring up at the ceiling as she and her father walked into the theatre with her arm crossed over his.

"We've been here before," he laughed to himself, wondering how she could become so transfixed over a sight she had already witnessed before.

"I know that, when I was eight and we watched..." she trailed off, remaining silent as she tried to piece together the hazy and distant memory. She eventually shrugged, "I can't remember but it was good. It's just pretty."

"You tried to get us to paint the same thing on the ceiling of the dining room for years afterwards," he reminisced, smiling to himself as the memory of her as a smaller child became prominent in a mind that had only been filled with Antony's short life for days. She thought back, struggling to place that moment in the memory that she had. "Which wasn't possible so we painted a mini one in your bathroom," he continued as they both sat down in their seats.

"Oh! I remember now," she replied quickly as all the colours mixed together in the right pattern in her brain. She laughed softly while asking, "When you spilt all the paint in the bathtub?"

"And there were paint footprints everywhere for days," he chuckled to himself while she opened the snacks that they had bought from the front of the house only minutes beforehand."I didn't paint over one of them, the one on the wall in our bathroom that you put there with Antony's help,"

Her brow crept up onto her forehead, "But it's like brown and ruins the bathroom."

"Something sentimental could never ruin anything," he whispered back as the entire theatre quietened down, smiling softly even though his line of vision was directed to the stage much like hers was.

"Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean..."

-

"Can we get those loaded ice creams again?" Ivy asked as they both walked out of the theatre, having previously talked about their favourite parts and which actors played their characters the best. Ivy thought it was the one who played Mercutio but her father thought it was the one who played Tybalt. A rivalry much like their own fueled their small disagreement about the play, a rather fitting ending to the play she thought. The loaded icecreams were the one thing that Ivy remembered vividly from her last trip to the theatre. They came from a tiny little cafe that always had a huge queue out the door. Ivy's favourite was the vanilla ice cream, filled with fudgy brownies, caramel pieces and crispy m & m's. She had craved it for years and attempted to remake it on her own but it never turned out right, this cage just seemed to have a special touch.

Her father looked at her then to his watch, sighed softly, "We have twenty minutes to get home... So if we eat quickly and not tell, definitely."

Ivy went to sleep that night instantly, without much of an unhappy thought plaguing her mind as it had the many nights before. For once, she was at peace and dreamt somewhat happily.