WILDFLOWER, hermione granger.

ooxxxi. all we know

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OOXXXI. ALL WE KNOW
thirty one

       IVY ABSOLUTELY HATED APPARITION AS HER STOMACH TUMBLED. The moment they arrived at the new campsite, she was desperately retching on the grass as her stomach turned.

       "—Oh, I hope they don't kill him!" Ivy heard Hermione faintly. "That's why I wanted the Death Eaters to get a glimpse of Harry before we left, so they knew Xenophilius hadn't been lying!"

       "Why hide me and Ivy, though?" Ron asked, throwing the cloak off of them. Harry scrambled over, helping Ivy as she dry-heaved and leaned back against him in defeat.

       "Spattergroit, dumbass," Ivy murmured, closing her eyes. What the fuck was the sun so happy for? "And—And—" But Ivy didn't get to continue her sentence as she lurched towards the grass again, heaving up nothing.

      "—Ivy's supposed to be in America, in an asylum," Hermione finished for her, shooting the blonde a worried look. "And she's right, you're supposed to be sick in bed with Spattergroit, Ron! They've kidnapped Luna because her father supported Harry! What would happen to your family if they knew you're with him?"

       "But what about your mum and dad?"

       "They're in Australia," Hermione reminded. "They should be all right. They don't know anything."

       "You're a genius," Ron repeated, looking awed.

       "Yeah, you are, Hermione," Harry agreed fervently, "I don't know what we'd do without you or Ivy," He adds, patting Ivy's back as she gripped his leg for dear life, shuddering again as she hurled onto the grass.

       The next time Ivy came to, the first thing she did was walk out of the tent, noting that she was wrapped in the quilt that her mum made for her, her wand was laid on top of her bag, and Hermione was nowhere in sight.

       She really did hate how sensitive her stomach was to apparition. "How do you do it?" Hermione suddenly spoke up, making Ivy nearly jump out of her skin.

       Ivy looked at her curiously, sitting down beside Hermione. "How do I do what?"

       "Pretending you are okay," Hermione pursed her lips, refusing to look at Ivy and her gaze was a standstill towards the stars—one of them could've been Ivy's name instead of a wildflower.

       "I'm not pretending," Ivy also hates how her voice breaks, and tightened her jaw.

       "You may be an adept lie detector but I know you," Hermione shot back, her voice gentle. "You never tell me anything anymore—"

       "What do you mean?" Ivy furrowed her brows at Hermione. "I tell you everything."

       "And you are pretending, every single day," Hermione countered. "You tell me everything but not about you—what you're feeling, the panic attacks you've been having... do you even sleep anymore?"

       Ivy shrugged, "I scheduled a nap for a week from Tuesday."

       "Ivy," Hermione gave her a deadpan stare.