WILDFLOWER, hermione granger.

ooxxv. maps on our skins

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OOXXV. MAPS ON OUR SKINS
twenty five

THE LOCKET SITS UNCOMFORTABLY ON HER CHEST BESIDE THE STARBURST NECKLACE, WHICH KEPT GLOWING BECAUSE OF HOW DARK THE LOCKET WAS. That morning, they'd left on foot in search of a new place to camp in. They couldn't stay at the clearing since Snatchers nearly found where they were if it hadn't been for Hermione's charms.

"I'm hungry," Ron uttered. Ivy clenched her jaw, trying not to snap. Anxiety and irritation had been swirling in her chest since the moment she'd worn the locket—it made her snappier than normal.

The mere fact that memories had been resurfacing in her head doesn't help.

Harry and Hermione stopped, studying Ron for a moment as Ivy crossed her arms, blinking rapidly to try and block out the memories.

Sinister, red eyes stared back at her as they pushed her in the study. Draco looked at her, petrified to even be in the presence of Voldemort.

"What is this?" She hissed quietly.

Voldemort gives her a mutinous smile, glancing towards her twin brother, "I think you know what would happen if you fail me, Draco."

Ivy was stuck in place, as if a Body Bind curse was placed on her. She wanted to run—hell, she wanted to disappear from this place as he moved towards her, grabbing her arm painfully.

The next thing that happened was mentally scarring—the Dark Mark inked up her arm almost painfully, burning her skin, poisoning her blood.

And as if that hadn't been enough, he grabbed a phial in his hand, filled with a metallic-colored liquid. Draco's holding her still as she's blinded by rage and panic—what the hell was this?

The potion that was force-fed to her brought her ten times the pain of hell—

"Ivy," Hermione says gently, noticing the haunted, disturbed look on the blonde's face. "Maybe you should let Harry—"

"I can take it," Ivy tells her curtly, laying her hand on Hermione's arm to squeeze it gently before walking away to follow Ron. Hermione and Harry shared concerned looks for their two friends.

Food became scarcer and scarcer.

Harry was the least surprised by this, because he had suffered periods of near starvation at the Dursleys'. Hermione bore up reasonably well on those nights when they managed to scavenge nothing but berries or stale biscuits, her temper perhaps a little shorter than usual and her silences rather dour. Ron, however, had always been used to three delicious meals a day, courtesy of his mother or of the Hogwarts house-elves, and hunger made him both unreasonable and irascible. Ivy wasn't bothered by this—she often forgot to eat at times, or she would be starved back in the manor for simple mistakes. However, she did often offer the leftover pork rinds in her bag.

Accordingly, Harry, Ivy, and Hermione spent fruitless hours trying to decide where they might find the other Horcruxes, and how to destroy the one they had already got, their conversations becoming increasingly repetitive, as they had no new information.

Ivy kept pondering between the four other horcruxes left—because if she were Voldemort, where the hell would she hide them?