𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 - the wizarding world

III. SEPTEMBER 2ND 1994

III. SEPTEMBER 2ND 1994
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It was an early morning when the first students began getting ready for their first class of the school year. Ivy was one of them. Back at Beauxbatons, their days always began with either a swim or a lap along palace grounds. That wasn't something Ivy missed. At Hogwarts, you could get up whenever you wanted and simply take a stroll, which was what the girl decided to do on September 2nd.

The grounds were beginning to get chilly, and nature was getting ready to wholly enter autumn. The neatly-trimmed grass was damp underneath Ivy's black boots and, in the distance, at the very edge of the castle grounds next to the Forbidden Forest, stood a large man, that reminded her oddly enough of a crazier Madame Maxime; he was desperately trying to rake all the falling leaves together.

Ivy felt Paul, who was resting comfortably on her shoulder, tug on a strand of her hair.

"Hmm?" Ivy questioned.

Paul motioned wildly to the large clocktower protruding from the castle.

Her eyes widened. "Breakfast!" she exclaimed and rushed inside the castle.

On her way to the Great Hall, she only got lost twice and bumped into several ghosts. Some of the paintings had shouted not-so-nice things at her, but eventually she reached the Hall. She scanned the tables, looking for any familiar faces, but to her dismay even at half past seven, with classes starting at nine, the Hall was as empty as Pittenweem's church on a Sunday (very empty, indeed).

The only one at the Gryffindor table was Hermione, one of Harry's friends, Angelina had told her. So, Ivy took a determined stride and put a friendly smile on her face as she sat down opposite of the girl, who had her nose in a book, and began piling a plate with toast and fruit.

"Advanced Arithmancy," Ivy recognized the book. "I took that as an extra class at Beauxbatons for a year, but I had to drop it since the schedule conflicted with Alchemy classes. I'm taking it up again this year, since Hogwarts doesn't have an Alchemy class," she rambled as she opened her schoolbag and pulled out her own copy of the book. "Hey, what year are you, maybe I can help you?"

Hermione looked up slowly at the babbling red head and frowned, she didn't have the heart to tell the girl that she was freaking her out. "Uhh..." she began. "I'm in my fourth year, but I'm really ahead of the curriculum, thanks anyway, though."

Ivy nodded thoughtfully. "That's alright." There was a beat of silence before she continued, "If you don't mind me asking—Your friend, Harry, was it? Is he normally... you know, weird?"

Hermione cringed. "Harry is... well, he's a little weird, I'll admit. You just remind him of someone, you remind all of us of someone."

"You mean Harry's mother? I reckon that's why he called me mum on the train. I can promise you, hand on my heart, that I am not Harry's mother," Ivy reassured.

"I'll take your word for it." Hermione chuckled. "But don't mind him, I think he's going a little stir crazy. Him and his family were in the papers again last week, nobody can leave them alone."

"Why? Are they famous or something?"

Hermione looked at her as if she were stupid. "Famous? They're the most famous family in the world."

Ivy shook her head. "That can't be, Fred said the Potters were the mos—Oh! Never mind, I got it now. Harry Potter," she said quickly. Then it registered. "Wait a tick—Harry Potter?" she yelled quietly. "The boy who lived? The boy who lived called me mum?"

"That's most people's reaction when they first meet him," Hermione said, her eyes darting over Ivy's shoulders.

"Oh..." Ivy replied slowly. "I see."