what are we fighting for || ivy & orion
At mornings, witches and wizards from all over Britain either celebrated or mourned the taking of the Ministry, whereas at afternoons and especially nights, the Three Broomsticks welcomed anyone who longed for a wishful safe spot to quite literally drown their sorrows - no matter Ivy took enough care to stop those who were already too drunk.
Truth be told, not only those who were preoccupied by recent actions found themselves in a position of fear and misery; even some in favour might have their own worries over what just happened, or, stepping outside of that bubble, maybe felt uneasy by other problems. Ivy herself wasn’t at all comfortable, but she kept her mouth shut; no one needed to know her opinions, unless of course the person already did from times in the past when she didn’t have to worry about making or not making herself heard. In the end, what mattered was business.
Everyone knew the pub considered itself a neutral spot, openly offering a place where people wouldn’t have to worry about such things as fear and the war. Of course, this could change rather quickly should anyone, for whatever reason, decide to attack it, but at least Ivy held enough respect and consideration to understand this might only happen should something else enter the equation - after all, many did consider her a pureblood. Shops and markets closed all the time in Hogsmead now; many feared what was to happen, and Rosmerta understood their concerns. She couldn’t, though, simply close what was her life because of danger; such luxury was only given to those who didn’t adore their business as much as she did.
“There you go.” Ivy smiled warmly at the sight of an old friend, a Hufflepuff a few years older than her. Yet she couldn’t keep her company, which wasn’t a problem given there was someone else at the table as well. “Now I believe you still owe me those sickles.” This time her face took a more serious expression; business were business and she wasn’t at all interested in being owned, at the very least not when related to the money. At those days, it was best to make sure she wasn’t losing any. No more than a few seconds and it was all resolved, plus - even if she didn’t show it - if did give her some relief to see her friend was ok. She was a muggleborn and Merlin knew many were being aimed to. There was, of course, a question of the people behind those attacks - death eaters, they called themselves. Her group fought them.
At a few meters from her, there was Orion Black, a guy she had known too well in times when he kept going there to drink, and even if sober now, it was easy to know if they were friends, acquaintances, or even enemies.
Maybe crossing the last option was the right thing to do, given he had no idea she was sided with Aversio - and she didn’t plan on letting him or anyone else know about this anytime soon. “Are you planning on going back to old days or just passed by to say hi to a friend?” Not at all interested in asking whether or not she could sit there, Ivy pulled a chair and accomodated herself. The sight of Orion there did make her worry - not that she was afraid of any attack, it was more like she wasn’t interested in having him going home extremely drunk or staying there to sleep because of his intoxication. Those times were over and six years sober were bad for business, but good for the man.
“It’s been awhile, Black.” She let a smile show, yet her features remained solemn. Untroubled, too. Later on she might call him Orion, but Black did sound nicer than the constellation - a bit more powerful, like her own relation to Ivy and Rosmerta.
