Draco returned back to the school before Lucius even realized he had been home and Narcissa was to terrified to tell him. Her OWN SON had threatened her! What was she going to do? She took a deep breath and wrapped her expensive black, satin sheets around her trembling figure.
EVEN IF she managed to get the evidence from Ivy and Osanna...what then? There was still Draco...and he was far to angry to just forget about it.............he would eventually tell Lucius and even on the slight chance that Lucius did not believe him; Draco would find a way to convince his father. Then he would kill her...or find something even worse to do to her.
It had come to a point. The point where Narcissa had to make a decision. What was more important? Her husband, his name and all of the money and prestige that came with the position of being his wife? Or her son?
It only took her a moment to decide. A smirk grew across her face.
She could always have another child.
That morning Ivy had to fill in for Madame Hooch, she had to teach the flying lesson to the first years. She wasn�t looking forward to it either; it was all in all terribly boring and troublesome. It was also however, unavoidable. She made her way out towards the Quidditch Pitch clad in black leather pants, a black satin long-sleeved shirt and her black leather flying gloves. The First Years were already assembled. Ivy clutched her Firebolt in her hands and stopped in front of the group.
"I am Professor Cariad, most of you already know me..."
Most of them nodded.
"I am filling in for Professor Hooch. Today we will cover basic flying techniques and some maneuvering."
One of the Ravenclaw students looked as if he were going to burst. "Is that a FIREBOLT?" he asked, his eyes wide.
Ivy chuckled and held up her broom for the class to see. There were "Oooh's and Aaaah's" of appreciation.
"Yes it is actually; my broom from when I played for Puddlemere United."
There were a few murmurs of recognition and Ivy chuckled before bringing the class back to order.
"All right, everyone please show me the proper way to mount your brooms!"
The students complied and held their hands, palms down, over their brooms then clearly said "UP"; causing their brooms to hover. Ivy nodded in satisfaction.
"All right, place your feet firmly like so on the end of the broom...just here...now everyone, hover in place please!"
"I am going to show you a maneuver we used in Quidditch practice for Puddlemere!"
Ivy waved her wand and murmured a few words and summoned up bluebell fires. The small, glimmering blue flames shot from her wand and hovered in front of her. By waving her wand she directed them into a straight line, however they hovered and swerved around every few seconds making confusing patterns.
"I am going to dive in-between each flame.........you will do the same, only each flame will be immobile...."
She then took off, her firebolt moved with impeccable grace and she didn't miss a single dodge or arc. Her eyes were completely focused on the flames and she didn�t hit a single one, she was deep into the exercise, her robes fluttering behind her in a black arc when it happened. Somewhere behind the stands stood a shadowed figure, no one had noticed the person and they were going to great lengths to conceal themselves...the words they spoke could not be made out, but suddenly Ivy's broom swerved and jumped as if it had gone wild; it was under a hurling hex. It took her up, several feet into the air, then did a nosedive; Ivy landed right on her face....
None of the students laughed, they were all far to concerned. The shadowed figure behind the stands then muttered one last word.
"Morsmordre"
High above where Ivy had just fallen, a shower of green sparks, forming the shape of a skull with a snake coming from it's mouth appeared, suddenly the students could have cared less about Ivy; they froze for a moment.... then took off running.
She wasn�t even sure if she was hurt, but she almost sure she had broken something............the school wasn�t going to be happy about this, nor would the students...