Mayhem - G.Weasley

83. Garden of Truth

First light had come sooner than George expected. He glanced back at the shadow Hogwarts cast upon the forbidden forest by the rising sun. The forest called to Ivy in a way he'd never understand. How many times had she charged in without a second thought? How many times had that centaur spoke in such high regard of her? A species famously known for hating humans.

Though Ivy wasn't exactly human, was she? She had magic in her blood, a wand would not allow her to wield it if she did not already possess power.

That revelation Fred muttered earlier really had him thinking, despite what he wanted his brother to believe. Never before had he heard of a hybrid of any sort. Though supposedly, through the royal bloodline they existed. He didn't know why he didn't count his to-be sister in law who was supposedly part Veela.

So what exactly was she?

An animagus?

No, that didn't seem exactly plausible. He had heard of failed animagus transformation rituals, but that resulted in half-human, half-animal permanence.

Ivy could expel her wings at will. And as far as he knew he hadn't heard of her carrying a mandrake leaf in her mouth for a month.

He expelled that theory at once.

Then there was her unexplainable connection to death. The only being he could think of was a banshee. But Ivy did not have green skin, nor did her scream kill him. It was possible that the banshee gene had been diluted to a potentially non-fatal level. Thought he was no expert on bloodline breeding.

He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to breed with a banshee.

There were far too many possibilities and unknowns. All he knew for sure. . . Was that Ivy was powerful beyond measure. And anyone with that much power was at risk for using it for the wrong reasons.

George turned his head back to face Fred, Ginny, and Atanas—waiting on their brooms.

He had a bad feeling about wherever they were going. Atanas seemed to agree, an ominous expression painted his face. "You may not like what you see." He warned before zooming off on his obsidian, light-leeching broom.

Indeed, he may see what he feared most.

But if there was even the smallest chance that wouldn't happen. . . He'd take it.

***************

Time seemed to pass differently in the pit. No windows and only darkness could be extremely disorienting. Ivy listened to Andreas spill every one of his secrets for the majority of the day. Not only did he spill his own, but every secret he had learned on other people came dripping off his tongue.

Ivy didn't particularly care, though Osias seemed to be having a field day, enjoying every second of it.

When the only words Andreas would mutter were pleads and prayers, Ivy grew tired. She didn't want to process the punishment she had bestowed upon Andreas, and how easily it came. How much she wanted it.

When she rose from the stool Osias had his shadows bring her, he rushed over to her side with an eager expression. "A few of Andreas's conspirators will be at the ball tomorrow. And as our dear prisoner was so kind as to name them for us, I believe he should attend."