Ivy is not a witch... Wait, really?
August 1, 1975. (Friday)
Petunia was awake long before dawn. Lily and Ivy were excitedly whispering to each other, trying, and failing to be discrete. The three girls had a sleepover the night before, reading stories together, gossiping, giggling. A glance to the window told Petunia that it was far too early to wake. But she could not go back to sleep.
“Have you at least slept a little?” She asked her sisters with a tired voice.
“Oh, Tuney, you’re awake!” Exclaimed a sheepish Ivy, snuggling closer to her eldest sister. “Sorry, we didn’t want to wake you. But I’m so excited! I’m eleven today, and I will go to Hogwarts too!”
Sighing, Petunia petted the hair of Ivy.
“Yes, yes. Happy birthday, you little minx!” She said while hugging the small girl.
Squealing, Lily joined the hug and began singing the birthday song amidst the laughter of the other two.
“You can’t carry a tune to save your life, Lils! Stop it, please!” Half-laughed, half-begged Ivy.
But soon, Petunia joined in. Her voice was a lot more melodic. And she could carry a tune. And, when the singing stopped, the three sisters hugged again.
“Okay. Now, let’s get ready for the day, girls. Go take a shower, I will start on breakfast. And when mum and dad are awake too, we will wait for the arrival of the professor, or the owl, whichever it is. Sounds good?”
Without responding, the two younger girls hopped from the bed after sloppy kisses to Petunia’s cheeks, laughing. The elder Evans sighed and threw the sheets off before getting down to the kitchen.
She was careful to not make too many noises, the bedroom of her parents being not far away from the kitchen, while preparing the best breakfast that Ivy could ask for. Fried eggs and bacon, beans and mushroom, tea, some tomatoes, and some buttered toast just waiting for the right jam on top. She also got the coffee maker to start, knowing her father was not awake enough without it.
When the sun peeked at the horizon, the three sisters were in the kitchen, ready to start the day. They were talking quietly when Ambrose came in, followed by his wife. And he smiled knowingly, eyeing Petunia with some amusement.
“Well, that is a wonderful start for the day!” He exclaimed, surprising the birthday girl from behind while her older sisters sniggered at the squeal that left her mouth.
“Daaaad! You scared me!” She complained, smiling when her father and mother kissed her cheek.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” whispered Cæla, laughing.
But the rest of the day decreased in enthusiasm when there was still no owl, or no visit from the Hogwarts’ Deputy Headmistress.
When the sun disappeared, painting the sky red, then black, the Evans family was frowning in the dining room. Even the presence of Severus Snape amongst them did not set Petunia off.
“I thought for sure that Ivy was magical,” said the boy with a sad smile. “Guess I was wrong.”
“No! Ivy is magical. I know it. I saw it. You saw too, Lils, right?” Said Petunia, sparing a cold look to the Snape boy. “This is just a mistake from your school. That’s it.”
“You just wish it, Tuney,” sneered Severus. “Like you wished to attend with Lily four years ago. But you are not magical. And neither is Ivy from the looks of things.”
“And you’re just a wretched boy!” Screamed the older girl, furious, gathering the sniffling Ivy in her arms.
“Enough!”
The sound of Ambrose intervening shut everyone up. He turned to Ivy, a sad smile on his lips.
“I’m sorry sweetheart. But maybe the owl, or the representative is late? Either way, it is time to go to bed.” He kissed her brows, then Petunia’s, then Lily’s. And turned to Severus. “It is late, Severus. Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight? Or go home?”
“I don’t want him here!” Sneered Petunia, helping Ivy to the stairs, soothing her sobs.
“I will go home, Mr Evans,” said the Snape boy after a disgusted look in Petunia’s direction. “See you later Lils. Good night, Mr, and Mrs Evans.”
When the door closed behind him, Lily exhaled a slow breath, closing her eyes. With a goodnight to her parents, she joined her sisters upstairs, trying to comfort Ivy. When the youngest was finally asleep, snuggled between her two sisters, Lily turned her head and whispered to her elder sister.
“She is magical, but maybe not enough to attend Hogwarts? Professor McGonagall always said that is an elite school. Maybe there is other schools she can attend?”
The older girl looked at the waning crescent moon through the window, slowly rising in the sky. She kept silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Then, with misty eyes, she turned toward Lily.
“Maybe. And maybe it’s the same for me, right? I… I was so sure that I was magical too when you had your letter. I mean, you made flowers bloom, and you floated in the sky, yes… But… I am sure that I am the one that snuffed the fire out, that day in the kitchen. I am sure that it was me when the Snape boy turned green after insulting me. And I am totally certain that it is Ivy who made those rabbits dance at the park the other day. And she made the cat of Mrs Gloom disappear like the Cheshire Cat yesterday. You weren’t there, but it was so funny!”
Lily hummed under her breath, not knowing how to respond. Petunia didn’t let her figure it.
“I don’t care about me. I’m too old to go now, anyway. But Ivy isn’t. So, we will find something. Alright?”
“I mean… We can try?”
Scoffing lightly, Petunia turned her head back toward the window. Her mind was racing, trying to find a solution. Like it has been ever since the Marlene Dietrich lookalike failed to show up at eight this morning.
And then, she finally figured out a possible solution.
“Say, Lils… Those goblins of yours… Didn’t they offer some sort of test for the parents to know if their child is magical before their eleventh birthday?”
“Mmmh… I guess,” sleepily answered Lily. “I think the pureblood stopped doing it some twenty years ago. Because, if their child were a squib, they couldn’t kill him. They were obligated to let the goblins find a decent home to him. They couldn’t disown him either and were forced to set an account for him at Gringotts, to help him start his life decently. And if the child was magical, there was a price too. Never the same.”
“So, tomorrow, we go to Diagon Alley. We go to Gringotts and ask for that bloody test. And we don’t take the Snape boy with us.”
Almost completely asleep, Lily hummed. She was exhausted. And Petunia finally started to drift off too, her mind satisfied with the solution.
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