WILDFLOWER, hermione granger.

xxviii. city of stars

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XXVIII. CITY OF STARS
twenty eight

"YOU'RE A FUCKING IDIOT, YOU KNOW THAT?" Ivy snapped at Harry the moment he woke up. He blinked at her, confused and bewildered. There was no malice in her gaze, only the irritated concern he would often receive from, well, everyone who witnessed his reckless decisions. "You've got the survival instinct of a damn squirrel on crack."

"Ivy," Hermione placed a calm hand on the blonde's shoulder. Ivy deflated, like a high-strung balloon into defeat and worry. Then, Hermione turned to Harry, "Do you feel all right?"

"Yes," Harry lied. Ivy pursed her lips, sending him a look—but if she called him out on it, she'd be a hypocrite. Ivy had never really been fully honest about how she was feeling, these days. All she knew was that she had to be okay.

I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine—

"We got away," Harry breathes out.

"Good observation," Ivy quipped, ignoring how her chest was filtered with anxiety the closer she sat near the locket, which was strewn in the ground.

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes. "How long ago did we leave?"

"Hours ago," Hermione answered him. "I had to use the Severing Charm to get the locket off you. And you've been... quite ill too."

"I already cleaned the puncture marks for you," Ivy says quietly, before offering a weak smirk. "Hopefully, Nagini wasn't venomous—" Hermione nudged her, reprimanding her with a look. Ivy rolled her eyes, "—joking. It's your lucky day, Nagini's not venomous, so you're safe."

They didn't need to question how she even knew the snake's name—the story behind the Dark Mark on her forearm had all they need to know.

"We shouldn't have gone to Godric's Hollow. It's my fault, it's all my fault, Hermione, I'm sorry," Harry lamented, falling back on his bunk. "Merlin, Ivy, I should've listened to you. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Hermione assured him. "We—" Hermione nudged Ivy again to just go with it. "—all thought that Dumbledore might've left the sword there for you."

Ivy shut her eyes, trying not to let her anger towards Dumbledore overwhelm her, and dishonor the man she knew—the man who left an adults' workload to a bunch of teenagers.

"What happened, Harry? What happened when she took you upstairs? Was the snake hiding somewhere? Did it just come out and kill her and attack you?" Hermione inquired.

"No," He said. "She was the snake... or the snake was her... all along."

Ivy choked on her tea, "Huh?"

"W—What?" Hermione says at the same time.

Harry closed his eyes, reminiscing it. "Bathilda must've been dead a while—"

"The carnage in the kitchen," Ivy realized, her face paling. She put the tea down, insanely revolted. "If Bathilda's corpse was in the kitchen..." She trailed off, absolutely disgusted.