Too Much ((Ivy))

[Charles Driscoll H7]

((Continued from here))

The wind was cold, but not cruel. Never as cruel as the grim reality of rejection by your own sister. Never as cruel as feeling as alone as Charles did now. What was wrong with her anyway? One moment she was saving him and the next she didn’t want to see him? The wind was as never as cruel as having to deal with someone so hard to understand. And now everyone had seen his worst fear realised, and Charles had to deal with it, it was no longer just bottled up inside him where he could run from examining it and having to deal with it.

Charles didn’t understand it, and didn’t think he could, but he had to get rid of the pent-up frustration somehow, but flying around at breakneck speed after the Snitch was only tiring him and the knot in his stomach had not become any less tight. He let go of the Snitch once again, dived after it at a speed that he knew was a bit too dangerous for him, but not caring in the least. He didn’t notice that someone was making their way onto the pitch as he zoomed after the Snitch, the ground looming closer and closer by the second.

[Ivy Tunstall]

Ivy wrapped her yellow and black striped scarf around her neck with care, that going over the yellow Hufflepuff jumper. Thick, black woollen robes went around her now, and she tied them tight to make sure they didn't come off. Then she was ready, through the heavy doors of the Entrance Hall and outside. Frost adorned the slates of the castle, looking a little like snow. The snow wouldn't come yet. Ivy was glad for that. They'd had frosts now for four consecutive nights and it was cold enough. The leaves were dropping entirely voluntarily off the trees now, in floods. It wasn't possible to look for a moment and not see leaves spiralling to the ground.

With that cold weather a persistent cough had settled on Ivy's chest, and so she was wrapping up warm before she went outside. She wasn't entirely sure why she was going outside, but she knew where she was headed. The Quidditch pitch. She had her broom with her - not that she intended to do much practice. She just wanted to... fly around a bit. Ivy wasn't scared of heights - in fact she rather enjoyed the swooping feeling in the pit of her stomach when she looked down at the ground when descending towards it, fast, from great elevation. She made her way onto the pitch, frowning as she saw someone else flying around rather dangerously. Well, she didn't intend to fly anywhere near them. They'd knock her off her broom before they'd glanced up to see her in the air by the looks of their current speed. She gave the figure whizzing around above her a worried glance before retreating into the locker room.

A few minutes later she emerged again, a little more bundled up than she had been previously, and some Quidditch gloves on which would both keep her fingers working in the cold and allow her to grip the broom (and the Quaffle) better. The other rather reckless person was still there though, currently speeding towards the ground. Ivy wondered whether she should step back - if the person pulled up from the ground at the last minute they could well crash into her in her current position. Then she realised the person on the broomstick was someone she would call a friend - Charles Driscoll. He was someone she thought of as easy-going, but never reckless and dangerous! Her wand was quickly out and, with urgency in her voice, she muttered a charm which would ideally make the ground around as soft as a cushion. She wasn't at all sure it had worked to anything like that standard; the ground was already very hard with the frost and it was quite a tricky charm - but anything would help since her friend was currently on a collision course with that ground. A glint of rushing gold reflecting the cold sun in the cold blue sky caught her eye, and Ivy jumped back before shouting "Accio Snitch!" It was a spell she'd had to practice rather a lot but a very useful one, and the tiny ball zoomed to her fingers, where she gripped it tightly, her fingers restraining its impulsiveness.

"Charles, what do you think you're doing?" she shouted, her alarm coming through in the harshness of her words, untempered by thought. The wind whistling in the trees of the Forbidden Forest probably made her words barely audible at any rate, but raising her voice had now set Ivy off on a coughing fit. "You won't be any good as Seeker if you end up dead or paralysed," she added when she was able, trying to sound slightly more normal. It probably still didn't sound very friendly; her worry wouldn't let her sound amicable. Ivy gave Charles an unhappy glance, before sinking as carefully as it was possible to sink down onto the ground (which was in fact softer than it would have been, although nowhere near cushion standards). Ivy didn't look up to see where Charles was, but instead mumbled a little indistinctly, "Why're you doing that though? Please don't fly that dangerously again."

((Slightly longer than I'd expected as it turns out; I'm sorry. But it's my best attempt at doing what you wanted... I could never leave it at anything other than my best for you. And I'm sorry a little time has gone by - I've been ill and then crazily busy.))

[Charles Driscoll H7]

Charles flew down ready to yell at whoever it was who had suddenly summoned the Snitch and deprived him of the means of venting his frustration. Well maybe he was lying to himself about that for the surge of emotions he had felt ever since he had left Foxcroft's classroom had not lessened in the least. His heart hammering against his chest and an angry outburst on the tip of his tongue, Charles thrust his broom away from him but the words never his mouth when he realised who had stopped him. He hadn't recognized her voice at all, for instead of the rather quiet humble voice he was used to there was a harshness he'd never heard before in Ivy's voice. Even the screaming of the wind hadn’t been able to stop it from making itself heard.

Charles crossed his arms across his chest and listened to her. He still felt like shouting but then he suddenly looked her in the eyes. It was the first time he had seen concern for him in Ivy's eyes and Charles could have smiled at her in the moment if he wasn't feeling so angry at Samantha. The concern drove away all thoughts of shouting – it was so unexpected that its effect was quick and profound on him. He felt like explaining instead of arguing. He looked at Ivy for a long moment not sure where to begin. The truth was, though he had come to like Ivy they had never shared any secrets or had deep meaningful conversations about their families and problems. But Charles trusted her and he felt so grateful to know she really cared about him if only just a little for he hadn’t ever thought that she valued their friendship. "I know I'm not supposed to fly like that, but then that's not the only thing I don’t usually do that I've suddenly surprised myself by doing," he said. It was a rather strange sentence and Charles wondered whether Ivy had understood him or not, though he continued quickly before giving her a chance to demand an explanation.

"I don’t bottle things up Ivy, that's not the way I deal with my feelings, I've lived with people who lived that way and I've grown to see that there are few worse things you can do to yourself! But to have your worst fear revealed in front of everyone like that… something you really didn’t want to confront or admit to yourself… and had to… I dunno…" Charles couldn't look at Ivy any more. He didn’t regret what he had said, not in the least, but he had no idea what her reaction would be. This was uncovered territory for both of them as they'd never discussed anything this personal before.

((Don't worry about it.))

[Ivy Tunstall]

As she raised her chin a little to look at Charles Ivy faltered slightly at the furious look on his face. She’d never seen him look thunderous at anyone before, let alone at her. It gave her a few qualms; Charles was someone who she always seemed able to relax with and she didn’t much want him to be angry with her. But then again, he had been flying so dangerously. Even she would rarely fly that fast – and not heading straight for the ground. The goal hoops could at least be flown through if you were paying enough attention to where you were going; the ground on the other hand was solid and unyielding. Ivy looked at Charles anxiously and wasn’t quite sure what to think when he met her eyes, that anger which had been so evident before now replaced with an expression she couldn’t interpret thanks to its complexity. She wanted to look away – eyes were personal things and she didn’t want to be intrusive, especially not if Charles was still angry with her – but in the end did not. She wasn’t aware of what her own eyes were saying at that moment, but they’d always been the most expressive part of her at conveying how she was feeling and what she was thinking. She’d never been one for adopting an emotionless stance. Now she swallowed painfully – it always upset her in the end if people were unhappy with her – and carefully coaxed the wings of the Snitch into a position where the light, sharp metal framework would not be hurting her as it had been doing since she’d Summoned it and imprisoned it in her fingers.

Ivy continued to look at Charles as he started to speak, at first looking a little puzzled but later beginning to feet slightly tense as she sensed he was about to talk on an issue which had been troubling her for days. As he finished speaking, she was left staring at him, unmoving; the fidgeting with the Snitch she had been carrying on up till now as a variation of one of her classic symptoms of anxiety having ceased. She’d been trying to persuade herself it didn’t matter; that was a long time ago, it wasn’t going to happen again. It did though, it did matter – what that girl had said had mattered and hurt so much at the time, and Ivy knew her footing against her deepest fear, and her deepest hurt too, had been made far more insecure by it. But what did it matter if Charles… why should she care, what right did she have to know or worry about it anyway? Ivy couldn’t even, wouldn’t even complete the questions… thoughts… fears bubbling to the surface of her mind. She’d been pushing them back down stubbornly. She wasn’t going to think about it, she wasn’t. And there was Charles talking about not bottling things up.

Suddenly Ivy realised quite the length of time she had been silent for. She must speak.
“I…” she began weakly, before starting again slightly more pronouncedly: “You were braver than me in that class, Charles. I couldn’t have and still wouldn’t have the courage to face my worst fear… not as a Boggart and not as… not in front of all those people. I don’t know that I could cope with it myself, and with all these people I hardly know there… a worst fear, it’s just too personal.” Ivy admitted, giving Charles a brief anxious glance before looking down again, securing the Snitch tightly between forefinger and thumb, holding it out to him. She used that to give her direction to look straight at Charles so she could meet his eyes if he was looking. She swallowed, awkwardly again, fighting to blurt her question out before she had a chance to push it back down.
“You – that girl, is… is she your sister?”

[Charles Driscoll H7]

Charles had never seen Ivy look that troubled and it was with more than a pang of guilt that he realised it was he who was causing her this pain. But they'd come to a point in their friendship where he found he wanted to share with her what he was feeling exactly and stop avoiding whatever topics he thought might cast a gloom on their conversation or affect their relationship. He didn’t want to lose her friendship, for quiet as Ivy was and even though she'd never actually admitted she was there for him whenever he needed her Charles had come to depend on her for support and comfort. What he did want was to strengthen their friendship, and he needed to be able to tell her about him and Samantha if he was going to do that.

"Yes," he said simply, not very happy about the fact that he'd never told her that. Charles was silent for a few moments, not noticing the silent Ivy who was looking markedly more troubled. When she finally said something Charles eyes widened in surprise. So that was how it had looked? He'd been anything but brave. Almost everyone else in that room had seen what they'd written down on the piece of paper – he didn’t know anyone who hadn’t except him. "No I wasn't, Ivy. I actually thought I’d see a Death Eater trying to cast the Cruciatus on me, I thought that was my worst fear. I realise now that I just couldn’t tell myself that Samantha had reached the point where she might kill herself - I can’t entertain the notion that she's a hopeless case – I know her better than that, I just do," he said vehemently. His voice dropped an octave. "But it's still my worst fear that I won't be able to help her fast enough and that in a moment of complete despair she'll - " he stopped abruptly, the frustration building up inside him again. "I want to help her, Ivy, I really do and I don’t know where to start or how to start," he said, picking up a stone from the ground and throwing it again, watching it skip across the hard pitch into the distance.

Charles looked up at Ivy to see her eyes on him. Again he didn’t regret all he'd said, but he wished he hadn’t made her look so distressed. He stood up and then sat down on the ground next to her and held the hand she was holding out to him but he didn’t let go of it, staring back into her eyes, wondering why she looked so upset. It couldn’t just be out of her concern for him, he felt it was something much deeper than that, and he couldn’t guess what it was. Was this because she was thinking about her own worst fear? He thought about she'd told him before. Was there something he had missed? "Ivy?" he said, and the concern in the pronouncement of her name was the question he didn’t ask.

[Ivy Tunstall]

'Yes'. One word, what could one word change? What did it mean to Ivy? It didn't change the Charles that was standing in front of her, no. He was still Charles; he was still her friend. But it had set off a series of tumultuous thoughts in her head, things she had point blank denied her mind to think about previously. How could... how could Charles, Charles of all people, be her brother? How was it possible? She knew that in all logic it was possible, but her brain refused, yes, refused to make the connection between a friend and... and... her. The two just didn't relate. Why did it need to make a connection anyway?... why should it change anything that that girl was his sister? Why? It was crazy and nonsensical, she knew, but somehow there was something there that... that mattered, and she couldn't understand why and she couldn't even place her finger on what exactly about it all it was that mattered... but somehow it just did. Ivy had tried to put that whole episode out of mind because... because it wasn't any good dwelling on it, and now, now she felt upset and confused and... and Charles was still there. Ivy met his eyes for a moment, but she couldn't bring herself to smile so she looked down again.

Charles was hurting. Ivy could tell that. His voice was witness to that, attempting to expel all of that hurt as quickly and as furiously as possible. She wanted to respond as a child would: to give him a hug in an attempt to make things better, but shecouldn't do that, she just... couldn't. Ivy hadn't been able to do that in a long time. But he could talk to her; he could talk at her. She wasn't going anywhere. Anything was better than his flying so dangerously again. He musn't do that, it was... dangerous! He musn't expose himself to stupid unnecessary risks. Ivy looked up at Charles but shook her head slightly at his words. How could... she could hardly believe he was talking about the same girl who had been so cruel last year. Samantha, he had called her. Yet Ivy knew he was. But she wasn't... she wasn't suicidal. Not at all. She'd been so sure she had the right to do what she would, she'd been so sure she belonged. So utterly convinced that Ivy didn't. Ivy thought back to those moments she'd tried so hard to forget, and shook her head slightly again, frowning against the tears that threatened. There was no reason for her to be upset! Charles was the one she should be thinking about here.

There was so much she didn't know about Charles. She hadn't even known he had a sister, for goodness sake, let alone that she was... Samantha! Ivy thought back to what he'd said earlier... he'd thought he'd see a Death Eater trying to cast the Cruciatus curse on him? But... how then did he get to Samantha? Ivy had known that he'd had the Cruciatus cast on him, of course, but that had been all she worried about. There were rumours about the Driscolls going around, yes, but Ivy didn't listen to gossip. If it was about friends she would get up and walk out of the room if necessary. It was one thing that made her angry. Gossip. Malicious, nasty, unnecessary. If he wanted to tell her, he'd tell her. There was no need for her to learn from anyone else. Though she wasn't entirely sure he wasn't assuming prior knowledge she didn't have here.

Ivy met Charles' eyes and released the Snitch even though he hadn't let go of her hand, the newly released metal wings beat sharply in the confined space. Ivy ignored the pain. The question mark at the end of her name was clear but Ivy did not repond to it, looking down at the ground instead and shaking her head again as she had already done more than once, the chilly fingers on the hand he was holding which she'd kept deliberately still tightening downwards slightly. Ivy looked back up at Charles apologetically and gave his hand a very small squeeze. She wanted to tell him but...
"What'd you write on that piece of paper?" she asked, her whole stance immoving as she forced that hurt back down again for a while and watched Charles anxiously.

[Charles Driscoll H7]

He held her hand but not her eyes as he answered her question. “Crucio. That’s what I wrote; because that was incredible pain, something I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy to feel, Professor Foxcroft once described it to me as cutting at a person with a knife over and over again watching them writhe in pain instead of just killing them. I know why it’s an Unforgivable Curse, and yes Samantha did cast it, but only to save my life. Only to save my life,” he repeated, begging her with his eyes to forgive his sister for a sin that probably meant nothing to Ivy next to what Samantha had put her through. But he didn’t know. “I’ve tried to convince myself that she had to pay for other things she’d done, that maybe this was indeed a horrible punishment that was too high a price to pay when her intentions were good – but that she’d done other things and that maybe the sentence wasn’t that unfair. But I can’t imagine what possibly she could have done – but I do believe it was our parents that were the reason – I do, Ivy,” he said, his voice breaking as he looked up at her. He was surprised – there was a torrent of emotions in her eyes, a tortured aura about her that he felt and that mirrored his feelings of despair. It was not all empathy and concern for him, there was something, definitely something he’d missed.

"Ivy – there's something you're not telling me. I don’t know what to say or do to make you feel comfortable with saying it, but it's hurting you and I hate to see you like that Ivy, you know, you and I, we – we’ve talked about so much, and yet at times we seem so distant. I think you should tell me because there may be something I can do about it. And if I can't, and if you need to keep it a secret from everyone else, you'll have got it off your chest and I won’t ever tell anyone," he promised. I’ve told you it all, he thought, but his words had been a rather hasty description of what was an important partof his life that she probably wouldn’t understand without more details. But he knew now he was ready to tell her the whole story. There was no going back now he’d let her in.

[Ivy Tunstall]

Ivy listened to Charles' words as closely as she could. They were uncomfortable to listen to - she hated to think of her friend in that much pain - but she forced herself to. She wasn't always entirely sure what he was talking about because she just didn't have the assumed background knowledge. "I didn't know she'd done that," Ivy said quietly, picking some of the grass of the Quidditch pitch with her free hand and opening her fingers to let it fall through back onto the earth. She shouldn't uproot the Quidditch pitch of all places. "I don't know - well, much about it at all," she supplemented. "But if she cast it to save your life, well then she wasn't the first one to cast it."

That was rather obscure to expect Charles to understand, but Ivy didn't continue an explanation of her thoughts. Her eyes flashed as she thought of the Death Eaters that had entered the school last summer, the Death Eaters that had devastated Diagon Alley and the ones that had come on the train. Laura had been a good friend and a cheery dormmate and the fact they'd killed her in cold blood was still fresh in Ivy's mind. She glanced at Charles and agreed for a moment, if only silently. He was her friend and she was very glad he was still around. But she couldn't communicate her thoughts, because they were built on flawed logic. Her own coloured version of the world. She was prepared to believe whatever Charles said though; he was the one in a position to know after all.

"Physical pain isn't the most painful thing possible," she said, remembering how the words and the humiliation had lingered on long after the marks from where the ropes had cut into her for a prolonged period of time had disappeared. "That might be what would hurt you the most anyway - your sister killing herself. Because she's the most important thing for you." Ivy looked at Charles for a moment, and then away again because it wasn't easy to meet his eyes. "The first... well... constants in your life, they'll always be important. Even if they're not that - constant." she said, her speech rather awkward and broken as she struggled to put her meaning into words. She'd been thinking of her mum there more than anything else, and that had just left her the more confused. Ivy frowned to herself but didn't pick any more of the Quidditch pitch. It deserved more respect than that.

Suddenly Ivy looked back to her friend, because Charles had picked up on the fact she was holding back. "Yes," she said, because there was something, a big something, that she hadn't told him, and she wasn't going to deny that. There were still a number of things she hadn't told him, and she would tell him all of them if he wanted to know; it was just they weren't things she would usually talk about, and secrets sounded strange when they encountered her tongue and spilled out of her. But she trusted him. How could he not know that? "I know you wouldn't tell anyone," she said, determined to have that straight, "of course I know that, but..." Ivy trailed off as she struggled for the right words again. 'But what?' she demanded of her thoughts fiercely. It was difficult to make sense of all the 'buts' there right now. But it was long enough now that it didn't matter anymore. But she didn't want him to think only of that when he talked to her. But it was bad enough for him trying to work everything out as it was without her giving him anything more to think about. But she didn't know where to begin.

"I... last year, your sister..." Ivy began, and then paused as she tried to think how to explain it. She withdrew her hand, still holding the Snitch, because thinking about this made her draw into herself and try to protect herself even when it was too late. And someone else having her hand made her feel more vulnerable right now. "She was with a group of friends... they, well, they stopped me and told me what they thought of me and left me tied up... an older Ravenclaw found me. I didn't tell him... what had happened - one of the other girls said I shouldn't tell anyone. And I know it's stupid, that they were just being cruel, but I did wonder... well, not if I belong here, but if it was worth coming considering everything... that's done. If I wasn't wanted here." Ivy fell silent for a moment, her breathing steady but heavy as she thought over how her mother leaving and her not having been there had affected her father. "And well... it just... it made me afraid of your sister too." Ivy continued, knowing there was far more to explain than she could do all at once. "So I... I was surprised when I saw her there as part of your Boggart." Ivy looked back at Charles now, and met his eyes. He was still there, despite what she'd just told him. But she'd told him that because he was there for her, and he was Charles, not just Samantha's brother. He always had been and something like that was not going to colour Ivy's perception of him.

[Charles Driscoll H7]

Charles frowned a little, he wasn’t completely following Ivy’s line of reasoning but at least she was trying to express how she was feeling o he kept quiet and listened attentively. “She’s the only family I have left, Ivy, the only person I ever did call family, the only person I was tied not only by a bond of blood but by a bond of love as well,” he said sadly, thinking of the dreams he had had of Samantha coming round to his way of thinking and agreeing with him that their parents were misleading them to say the least. Then Ivy started talking about constants and he suddenly had a lot to say that he really couldn’t contain it. “Do you really and honestly think that? What is a constant? Is it no something that you choose to make so? You choose to make the presence of a certain person in your life – as a constant – to continue to matter – you choose to constantly think that their opinion is of value,” he said. She would need him to elaborate and he knew that but then he was aware she was going to confess the thing she had been holding back and he had to listen, she might not ready to open up again.

And then the walls came tumbling down and his heart was broken. In a few pain-filled words Ivy told him something that would hurt him for a long time. And there was nothing he could do about the tears that flowed from his eyes as he realised that his own sister could have caused his closest friend so much distress. She held back, even though she was telling him what had happened, he could tell the details of the story were even uglier, the sorrow, pain, and doubt in her eyes said it all. “Now I know,” he said finally. “She did have sins to repent for, dues to pay. Maybe she didn’t go to Azkaban for saving my life – but I reckon you weren’t the first or last victim of her cruelty – and she had to pay for what she did to people. Well, she has, she has, Ivy, you know I was told she almost when insane, that’s why they let her out. She’s paid the price dearly if - if – that’s any consolation to you,” he said, his heartbreak evident in his voice. He’d never cried in front of anyone before, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself, it was just too much. He wiped away at his face and then forced himself to look at her, a different look in his eyes this time.

“How could you ever doubt that you belong here, Ivy? I doubted myself at first, wondered why my way of thinking was so different than my parents’ and why I couldn’t live by their rules. But then I learned to make my own, defined them from what I saw and learnt at Hogwarts and that if nothing else is the reason why I belong here. It’s this place that has made me who I am, made me stick to my ideas and values and know that everything my parents believed in and had led Samantha to believe in where fundamentally wrong and – and inhuman. No-one can make you feel that you belong somewhere or that you don’t, it comes from within you, but it can take time. But it is not something I have ever doubted – and that’s because you’re here – you Ivy, a sane, talented, caring person, fiercely loyal to all your friends. I know this is where I belong – among the people who have the morals and the values I cherish the most. And the certainty that came to me somewhere in the middle of my second year at Hogwarts is here to stay.”

“It hurts me more than I can say Ivy to say that Samantha is lost and that it will take a lot for her to pick up the pieces and start over again – she’ll have to change everything she has so firmly believed in for years if she is ever to start her life again. Are you going to make someone like – like that – tell you where you belong? I don’t think she ever belonged anywhere – if she did believe in my parents’ way of thinking she wouldn’t have saved me and if she believed in my way well she wouldn’t have ended up hurting so many people, you included. I want you to let me make up for what she did to you Ivy, please let me Ivy, not only because I want to help her rectify her mistake, but because you matter to me – very much,” he concluded, and then he did what she had just been doing – he pulled at a few tufts of grass, not quite getting them out of the ground, but it was at least something to keep his eyes away from her. He’d looked her during the last part of his speech and then turned away when he finished talking. He was hoping against hope she still needed him in her life – he was ready to be constant for her, and he would be a better one than the mother who had so cruelly denied Ivy her support.

[Ivy Tunstall]

Ivy stared at Charles for a moment as he picked up on what she'd said about constants and added his own viewpoint. She frowned: how to make herself clear? She'd confused herself when she was talking about that, so there was little chance that Charles would have understood what she was trying to mean.
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't think it," she said eventually, because although the words were unnecessary she didn't say things that she didn't think. She wasn't exactly blunt but she was honest - if she didn't want to share her opinion, she just wouldn't, but she wouldn't say something she didn't believe. "You said you'd had a bond of love with your sister - I'd say it's that sort of bond which keeps people important. Love is pretty constant - you can take away the source, you can bombard it with whatever you like but it'll still stay embedded somewhere. Even when people are gone, even when they don't have a presence in your life, they still matter; it still matters to me what my father thought and that he believed I should come to Hogwarts even though he isn't around anymore. How're you supposed to stop valuing the opinion of someone that you've loved, when there's no way you can stop loving them?"

Ivy was quiet for a while - her words had been fluent and full of feeling and it had surprised her. But then she saw what she hadn't seen before because she hadn't been looking at him - her explanation of what his sister had done had upset Charles so much he was crying. Oh, what she hadn't wanted to do. She hadn't wanted to make things more complicated. He already had enough trouble without her adding to it. She sat there awkwardly for a moment, feeling her own heart fill with the tears he was shedding. His must have been full of them for a long time, so much that it was overflowing. Knowing she'd caused her friend more pain when he could've done without it by sharing hers just brought her a bit closer to the brim. But all she did was watch him silently. What comfort could she give him? She wasn't sure she had anything sufficient in her. So she did nothing else until he'd recovered herself, hating herself for it but yet not able to act. Paralysed by tears, perhaps. She could usually do something to sort them out, but seeing them coming from Charles it was just beyond her. The problem was too deep for her to smooth over.

She listened to what Charlie had just said and didn't respond for a moment. He always said such deep things - well not always was deep the best word to describe them, but at least what he said was always interesting and required a bit of thought - and she spent a moment acknowledging what he'd told her about himself, understanding more of who he was before she replied.
"No, I've never... your sister never persuaded me I didn't belong. I do know I belong here. Not everyone that matters is here anymore - Laura's dead and others have left - so parts of what makes me belong have gone away somewhere else but... I've got enough friends to make me know I still belong here. Noko and Sadie and Ash. And you. Are you sure it's not people that influence whether I belong? It's being accepted which makes me sure I belong. I know I belong in the magical world, mostly because I'm a witch, but I belong here at Hogwarts because my friends are here.

"But what I meant is more... well I mean I belonged at home as well, long before I belonged at Hogwarts. And I've probably lost most of that now. Well, I have lost most of it but I'm not there much during the year so it's harder to keep up friendships with neighbours and old school friends and other people as well. And I know that I said it's being accepted which makes me... it might not be that which makes me belong but it's that which makes me feel I belong. Well I don't think your... Samantha made me feel I didn't belong but I suppose she did make me less sure that this was the place I belonged the most. That maybe I'd taken the wrong path. D'you ever wonder about that - what would've happened if you'd done this or that at a certain stage of your life? They always used to read out a poem about that kind of thing in my junior school, until I was sick to the back teeth of it, but the decisions you make do still lead onto everything that happens. If I'd decided another route, like not coming to Hogwarts I'd probably have been wondering what happened along this one. I don't have a clue what would've been best... there isn't any going back, I know that, but still that's what Samantha did do. Made me wonder whether I should've been elsewhere, whether I would've done more good elsewhere. And upset me, well... a bit but... don't ever worry about whether I think I belong here Charlie. You're one of my friends and you all make me know that I do. I don't know whether I've made the right choices, but I do know that I'm happy when I'm at Hogwarts."

Ivy stared at him for a second. Make up for it? Wasn't it obvious that... well maybe not. Ivy didn't always say everything because some things, some things she was sure her friends must know. Or maybe it wasn't just that she thought her friends would know such unspoken truths, surely, but because she didn't know quite how to put it. But she'd already said a lot, and the first thing she did was to stop staring at Charles.
"Oh, Charles, you do make up for it, of course you do, you and all our friends, just by being around." she said, giving him a quick hug even though she couldn't say for the life of her why she had done. Just seemed right she supposed. "It hasn't been causing me too much grief usually anyway; just seeing her in your Boggart brought it all up again and... I don't know, I'm confusing myself even right now in what about it is bothering me. I'm sorry... I don't know whether you're the last person or first person I should've told about it even if I had to tell anyone at all, though you're the first person. You have other things to worry about anyway - if Samantha is going to pick up the pieces it's you she needs to help her." Ivy smiled at him - it wasn't supposed to be encouraging or cheerful or helpful, just a smile because she needed to smile more than anything else - and sighed slightly. She wasn't sure what the situation was even, he was still confusing her on that because she just didn't know much, but she was sure he cared deeply about his sister and from what he'd said about his parents, he was the only person she had to lead her in the right direction towards happiness.

((Hmph. Sorry about the longness - length, that's the word, and an even greater sorry for the length of time it took me to post here. Just took me a while to get everything Ivy was thinking into words. My mind's less tangible than words. ))

[Charles Driscoll H7]

It was the first time she had mentioned her father – the first time she had said anything about her family in fact. All Charles knew was that Ivy was a muggle-born and nothing about her background – all she had said that her father was not around anymore which Charles had assumed he had abandoned his family and that she wasn’t sure what her mother did. She had seemed much more at ease speaking of her neighbours and Charles hadn’t pushed her at the time to talk more not wanting to cause any awkwardness between them. He later learned that her father was dead- and because she had chosen to avoid the topic with him he hadn’t talked about it.

There was so much that he didn’t know, so much that she had felt but kept inside her. Charles was glad she had commented on his crying in front of her. He had never cried in front of anyone before, it was just something private and he had never imagined there was anyone he could cry in front of but it had been too much for him and because she hadn’t looked away from him or made him feel more uncomfortable about it, even though she hadn’t tried to comfort him it was enough that she wasn’t trying to make him feel ashamed or begging him to stop or something of the sort. He didn’t want to apologise for it nor did he feel he had to. After that was over he elaborated further on his previous statement. “What I meant was that you choose the people you love and that’s why their opinions matter. I chose to value the friendships I had at Hogwarts and the relationships I had made here more than I valued any connection I ever had with my parents. But then there was never any love lost between us, and I never tried to live that illusion Sam had that they did.”

There was still something she was holding back, he could see it in her eyes quite clearly, and he wondered if had always been there and he’d never seen it or whether she’d never just looked that way before around him. But she was doing her best he could see to tell him all she could and that, more than anything else, was making him feel better than he had since he’d come here, first stunned by his worst fear and then by what Samantha had done to Ivy. He was hanging onto her every word as he didn’t know when she would feel like opening up again. And he wondered what exactly it was that she looked back upon and wondered whether she should have made a different choice, and debated on whether to ask her or not as he replied. “Yeah well when I was younger I read that the motto of a lot of successful people is ‘Never look back’ or ‘Always look forwards’. And I know I can’t just say that and you will, especially since you say you have bonds of love with the past that matter to you, and it’s not the same for me because I think I was always firmly convinced that there was nothing for me in my life before Hogwarts that I might have wanted. That Sam should make you want to do that – well – I-” He didn’t finish that sentence, he didn’t want to.

“I’m glad I’m the first,” he said, and he meant it. It was a cruel twist of fate that he should be, but it had brought them closer. Charles moved and put his arms around Ivy and hugged her. Although it still hurt to know what Samantha had done to her he was glad she had finally told him, glad that he was the first person she had felt comfortable sharing with something she hadn’t ever told anyone. He was still wondering what she thought she might have found down the road she hadn’t taken but didn’t say anything. Most muggle-borns he had found to be completely taken by the world of magic and immersed themselves in it without another thought of their previous lives – after all, you did join this life when you were only eleven. But there must have been something in her past that she wondered about – he wondered again what her parents were like. Her father she said had been supportive – was it her mother?