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& peter!
05. runaway
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"Psst!"
Ivy's head that was once buried in her arms, falling asleep to the sound of Professor Sprout's voice as she explained the purpose of the Venomous Tentacula, shot up from its position. Her parchment laid in front of her, answers printed and her ink spilling over the table, staining the wood.
In annoyance, she turned her head to find icy blue eyes staring back at her.
Flinching back in surprise, Ivy's eyes flashed the same shade of blue before returning to brown.
The girl in front of her also moved back the slightest bit. Her pale cheeks became pink with embarrassment as she realized how close she was to the Ravenclaw.
"Sorry," she muttered.
Ivy looked at her robes, noticing the green striped tie and the snake. She felt her stomach turn in an unease before remembering that not all Slytherin's were bad. Bad people may come out of Slytherin people, but Slytherin is not the producer.
After all, Ivy was almost Slytherin. "Oh, but Slytherin would be a rather tickling choice, wouldn't it? Ah yes, your ambition is ample, but your curiosity far outweighs it. Where to put you?" The little Ivy wriggled in the stool, anticipating the talking hat's decision. Her father was a Hufflepuff. Perhaps she would be one too! She cleared her throat, pausing the hat's rambling. The hat inquired, "Yes?" Ivy looked up at the edges of the inside of the hat and whispered, "What about Hufflepuff?" The hat was quick to turn down her request, "Hufflepuff requires patience and you, little one, greatly lack it." Ivy frowned at that and deflated in her seat, "Oh. What am I then?"
"See what I mean?"
"Hmph."
"Ravenclaw!
Ivy looked away from the pale girl and leaned her head in her hands. She was annoyed. Just two minutes ago, she was falling asleep, still aware of her surroundings, but asleep nonetheless. And now, her ink stained the table because of the neighboring girl's hiss.
Her elbows began to ache from their position.
Ivy had spent the last four years of her life at Hogwarts evading any and all friendships. Friendships, she believed, were an inaccessibility. It felt as if it were fifty feet behind a pane of glass, looking on, but not looking in.
