Soteria

CHAPTER 7:

A week had passed after the incident that happened in Hogsmeade with Tom. Ivy hadn't spotted him staring at her during breakfast when she sat in her spot at the Gryffindor table. At this moment, she was essentially a Gryffindor, as confirmed by the Gryffindor's themselves. 

Word had gotten around for what she did, as she was appreciated by both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, with some Ravenclaw's, which was quite disappointing seeing as that was her house. The situation was reversed with the Slytherin's; she had occasionally been the target of hexes and received disgusting looks from them. Not that it bothered her anyway. 

What did bother her, however, was Tom. He hadn't even given her the slightest attention after her 'threat'.

During lessons, he didn't speak at all and worked quietly, only speaking to answer questions. In the common room, when he would visit, he would be sat in an armchair that he sat quite a lot on, which Ivy noticed no one would sit at, and would be reading instead of looking at her over his book like he would when she would be in there. Which was rare. She was curious as to what was going through his fucked up psyche. Was he planning her murder? How to kill her? How to make the perfect cover story? Who to blame? Would her death be his new horcrux?

Agnes slumped down onto the bench suddenly, dressed in her quidditch uniform as she spoke, causing Ivy to snap her gaze up from her chocolate cake. "Ivy, are you coming to watch us practise for the games next week?" She asked, leaning forward, looking at Ivy with puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah, sure, why not? I have nothing else to do." Ivy replied, smiling as she took a bite from her cake. She had always gone to the games and enjoyed them, where she found the stress and competitiveness enjoyable, even though it was nerve-racking.

She would chuckle heartily when she would watch Harry, Ron, and Ginny practice together where she would laugh as the two siblings always got into a furious fight, with Harry eventually tearing them apart. She would watch with Hermione from the stands, frequently chatting and making remarks. She remembered how Cormac would show off his skills for Hermione and how it would make her grimace, making Ivy laugh so hard that she would topple over. Now, who would she topple over with in laughter?

Ivy saw Beatrice, Agnes, and Septimus swoop across the pitch. The speed of their brooms passed by, causing her to shiver. She chuckled as she saw Fleamont rage at his teammates as he made gestures with his hands to emphasise this. He reminded her of Oliver Wood. Guess it's a captain thing.

Fleamont was also the seeker, which meant that he had yet another significant role. Being a seeker must run in the family, Ivy thought to herself when she saw Fleamont dart by to seize the snitch. Agnes, along with Johnson, a sixth-year Gryffindor boy, were both beaters. The chasers were Septimus, Beatrice, and another male Gryffindor named Alfie. And lastly, the keeper was a broad, rough male by the name of Humphrey.

She tried to compare their skills to those of the players from her era as she watched them play. She saw that Agnes was a better beater than Fred and George and that Fleamont was slower than Harry. Overall, the Gryffindor players of the 1940s were not at all bad. She was shocked to hear that females were able to participate in the sport, considering that this era was sexist and that she herself had experienced some aspects of this since she started her journey here.

Her observations were cut short when Ivy noticed the familiar shade of emerald appearing. They were walking across the pitch towards the scarlets with brooms in hand. From her seat in the stands, she could see Malfoy's notorious platinum hair gleaming vividly. 

Fleamont soared down, the snitch in his hand as he marched across, his face forming a sneer. The other players seemed to halt what they were doing and followed.