Ivy Rosmerta

1. How long have you known your oldest friend? 14 years! I used to be the only kid who hang out with her back at middle school, after we met in a party and a few months later she almost broke my arm. She’s very different from me, but she’s also the most amazing loyal person I’ve ever come to know, and no matter how much people might disagree, I love her. She’s my best friend to these days <3 and she’ll be rich one day and take care of me. that’s also the plan

2. Smells that remind you of home? Well, I can't really smell anything, so there isn't one that reminds me of it. I was born with a few conditions including a heart one and, even though I'm ok now, I have this theory that something - perhaps the meds I used to take - made my ability to smell anything worse with time. Whatever the reason, so far I've only sensed alcohol and that was one time. But hey, on the flip side, I can't smell fart! xD

3. What movie can you watch over and over again? Honestly? Mostly any movie from my childhood (HSM, anyone?). I also am a huge fan of "12 Angry Men" and "Kingsman" for some reason - guess it's just cool to sit down and think or laugh sometimes.

4. Do you have any nicknames? Oh gosh, lots of them. Mah, Mafê, Fê, Mary, Nanda. I flinch any time people call me Maria so it's cool to have a name that allows me so many nickmakes!

5. How was your day? It started pretty good, went to pretty bad and now it's just neutral? I had some fun at school (even though it's Saturday), from discussing Napoleão's penis with our History Teacher to having two classes with teachers from the past two years - that aren't my teachers anymore - and basically hugging anyone from the other building I used to study. Getting home wasn't too good since this days I've been feeling anxious and sad for no reason, but I got to sleep a little and studied, so at least I was a little productive? Idk aushuashuahua

6. Who do you wish was with you right now? My best friend. She's living 10,585km away from me now. She would make me get out of bed, go to a party or the beach and fight me for my sadness. Either that or we'd just keep hugging each other and dancing.

7. What are you too hard on yourself for? Anything I could be better at personality-wise. I'm not exactly a good person, not in terms of friendship - this os because I'm very dependent and I usually want too much from the people I like/love. This is something I've been changing over the years and nowadays I keep wanting to improve, but it's hard. I don't want to be somebody who hurts and annoys people and on the other hand I'm always afraid I'll be the one who's hurt? So it's this balance that sometimes leans to a side and I regret later the way I acted (example: when I'm too aware if I act selfless I'll end up suffering and, so I don't, but days/weeks later I go and apologize lol). I try not to be a proud person so that's good.

8. Do you believe in an afterlife? Hmm not really. I'm not a person to believe on things that I cannot prove, although I do believe in karma (happened after I heard a girl who bullied me when I was 9 ended up expelled from three schools afterwards).

9. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what animal would you create? Never thought of that? x-x I guess a lion and a badger just to see how it goes.

10. Top 3 OTPs? Lorelai/Luke, Fleur/BEEL (I can't I love them), Halt/Pauline.

11. Do you like it when people play with your hair? I love it! My father loves it too so I guess I got it from him. If you ever are near me, a hug and what we call 'cafuné' - which is playing with somebody's hair - are always welcomed.

12. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? Secretly? Not many people. I'm pretty open about whoever I dislike and when somebody do something that pisses me off I tell them? So.... well, not so secretly, I'd say the girl who bullied me. She studies on my school now lmao but whatever, I ignore her.

13. Do you have a secret talent? What is it? Nah. No secret talents. Sorry. Or do I? I guess you'll never know. (*youcanpunchme)

14. What does your name mean? I have this portuguese board with the meaning of both my names, but basically that I'm brave, adventurous, impulsive, not afraid to speak my mind and a little quirky. Mom, dad, you've got it right.

15. What was your favourite tv show as a child? Dr House and Gilmore Girls! I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't watch both.

16. What’s the most thoughtful present you’ve ever received? My grandma used to give me these magazine for kids with lots of games and things to read and write... it wasn't gift in terms of birthday, but she and those magazines are the reason why I love reading and write so much, so I'm thankful to her for gaving me those, teaching me to read/write and just showing me there's fun in both!

17. Would you ever become a vegan? So I kinda can't because of iron, plus I never decided if it'd be awkward or 'the right thing' since I have a piece of animal inside of me (just a nice curiosity). That's because of a few surgeries I've done as a result of one of my conditions and, well, I'm good and living. Anyways, would I if I could? Probably vegetarian, not vegan.

18. What social issue would you most like to spread awareness about? Right now, considering the things I do to help what I believe is right and trying not to sound hipocrital (say, if I chose poverty, I would, since it's something I'd like to spread awareness but I do nothing to help, as I don't know how)? LGBT(Q).

I never had a problem with it myself - I do help some friends, however -, even though I'm bi: my strategy, having considered my parents are both pretty open-minded, was to take them to the HP events I used to go in 2014/2015. There were a lot of LGBT(Q) people there and through the months I showed them they were completely normal and they shouldn't have prejudice towards what they chose, who they loved, who they were, everything else. Then one year later I told them I was bi and said that the important thing is to wear condom, so... #wearcondoms

P.S: I used Q on "()" because in Brasil, officialy, we use only the first four words.

19. Tell us a story from when you were young I was invited to be on a Brazilian soap-opera once! Then I refused. I was 5. Fun thing is: I've done theather for years and even though I'm not any good of an actress, every time I'm writing I keep acting on my mind (or sometimes talking to myself and acting) just as if I'm the character. Idk, knowing about that invitation was what made me want to try theather when I was 8! So thanks whoever made me that offer.

20. What age do you get mistaken for? Twelve! I look like a kiddo, act like a kiddo and my skin is just like a kiddo. Guess when I'm 40 people will give me 30! :D

21. What double standard is ridiculous and needs to be ended? That woman can't say 'bad words' (because it's just not pretty, and they have to be soft and oh, so unpolite). To whoever thinks that, I have a few words, in both portuguese and english: Vai à merda. Go fuck yourself. Don't waste my time. Thanks. :)

P.S: I don't use my time racking my brain trying to write 'beautifully' so when I'm speaking I'll still have to think of ways to say things beautifully. No, thanks, I need a break.

P.S2: Of course this doesn't apply to certain moments/situations, but in other ones... really?

22. Favourite thing to do on rainy days? Stay at home, sleep, read a book, play with my dog and/or play a board game!

23. Do you have any stuffed toys? Yes! A few of disney from my childhood, plus 5 animals of the HP saga <3 I hope that counts.

24. Who was your favourite teacher at school and why? She wasn't a teacher, but she's the person I'm most grateful for, and will be for my entire life. I was born with another condition that made my life pretty hard at school for a lot of reasons and there was this woman who worked there and, even though she had no need to do so, helped me during all the 5 years I stayed there. Speaking like this it doesn't sound much but, honestly, I can't believe there is somebody who helped me with what I needed and even though I suffered a lot of bullying back then, it would have been a hundreded times worse if it wasn't for her. She rocks!

“We’re the same, Flor. The same. We die and that’s it… our skull, organs, bones, that’s all the same.” Ivy shook her head, unaware of what was going around her for a minute. It simply didn’t make sense, how more bodies were found in a dark alley in a muggle village, the signs always the same, too bizarre for the muggles, too nonsense. If anything Ivy wished for the madness to be soon over. She knew it wouldn’t, though - those who called themselves death eater were gaining power, showing the world what they could do with a turn of their wands, unfazed by the fact they were destroying people’s life, people that breathed and loved the same way they did. Maybe they didn’t, though; maybe love was a word some of them couldn’t recognize. She had come across people like that before, the ones who didn’t show kindness, who couldn’t care less for their peers - it made her shiver every time. Yet she treated them all as customers, the same as the others, or tried; why was it so difficult for that group to do the same? To leave alone those different from them?

She couldn’t believe some really had in their minds the muggles would destroy the world, make it impure or something. She’d been around some before, they were neither aware not cared for the Wizarding World. And the half-blood, the ones like her, who had some drops of blood running through their veins that belonged to non-magical family, well... it seemed to her they weren’t less. To her, who held no prejudice to them. It did always sound stupid, though, the arguments of those who saw them in another light, a darker one. 

“I really don’t understand why they think differently. Isn’t it better to leave people we hate alone? That’s my mantra… if somebody is doing no good at my bar, I simply get them out. That’s different from killing them. Plus what has muggles done wrong? Breathed? Lived? That’s nonsense.” Rolling her eyes, she yawned as her eyes fell to a book she’d just been reading. Funnily enough, it centered on a muggle city.

‘Sorry, I’m just mad. A friend of mine said she was followed by some guys in weird masks and I keep thinking she might me in danger.” With a sigh, Ivy stared at Flor, for a few seconds in silence. Usually she wouldn’t speak that much, to be honest Rosmerta was very calm, unless of course somebody made her angry. When somebody made her angry, she kicked them out. The ones who were killing muggles? She couldn’t. What a frustrating thing. 

“You know what’s worse? The order contacted me a few days ago.” At least there was no need of lowering their voices, now that they were by themselves. “They said I might be of value, since I know so many people and I’m constantly speaking to them. Can you believe it? I couldn’t. As if… as if they can actually do something. All I see is failure of their actions. Sorry, Flor. That person clearly got me angry.” With a more sarcastic smile, she tried breathing again. At some point the frustration would leave her.

No one could say the smell of scrambled eggs and fried mushrooms wasn’t absolutely delicious - nothing at the kitchen in that moment didn’t fit the description of tempting and inviting, which made sense considering Rosmerta cooked as if a work of art was in execution. She loved everything about the process, from picking the ingredients to making sure they were prepared at their best, for the best; the outcome later was always rewarding, with her stomach especially savouring every moment. At morning she fought no less than three minutes choosing what to try, and in some afternoons and evening the same thing repeated. Whenever Ivy was truly at home to do so, she enjoyed having at least one time of the day to truly focus on her kitchen. In other moments maybe not, perhaps she would scramble something fast and let things the way they were, allowing herself to enjoy other pleasures of life - it didn’t matter, as long as one meal fit perfection.

Today, she was also staring at Marlene’s favorite breakfast. Slowly, a smile flourished its way onto her cheeks - she’d just received notice her young friends would go there, which only made Ivy feel radiant. Few things gave her as much pleasure as seeing her friends, and even though the atmosphere of her pub was a great one to do so, having the freedom of nobody else hearing what they talked was also a blessing. Marlene understood that, of course; few people knew as much about her relation with the Three Broomsticks as Marlene. That is explained by a simply fact: in the past - and to these days, sometimes - Ivy tried her best to teach as much as she could to the younger girl. Competition wasn’t at all wanted, but truth be told they worked at different areas of the Wizarding World, and a lot more played into her decision.

For starters, she liked Marlene; there was something in the girl that gave her confidence, a sense that she was doing the right thing by offering to teach. Besides, she admired her fire. Ivy wasn’t like that, she wasn’t too interested in playing any part in the war, but Marlene? She used all of herself and jumped head first feet later. Ivy knew she try would her very best to learn better the art of bartending. And she did. Marlene learned everything, fantastically so. Some secrets, of course, Rosmerta kept for herself; but the things she taught? They were all absorbed, digested even, the way they were supposed to. She couldn’t be more proud.

Now, things weren’t about bartending and their relation with the Wizarding World anymore; at least not how it used to be in the past, before things took a turn for the darker, the worse. Ivy still remembered the days in which Marlene was kidnapped, how worried she had been, and the relief later when she came back alive. They’d both been at Aversio before, however she understood the change of hearts; and still Marlene was one of the few people she spoke to openly on the war. It was a trust relationship and no matter how many years the other girl was younger, she felt like she could trust her.

Which leads right back to that day: yes, usually they would speak of amenities too, normality and so, but also the war. It played an important part on their lives, after all. “Hey, Marl.” Smiling, she walked with two plates in her hands, leaving both in a table on the living room. They had already greeted each other, but it was necessary to finish cooking, of course, so Ivy lost a few minutes doing so. Sitting on the table was almost ritualistic, and it made her feel so good, just being there with her friend not actually worrying about what was going on in the world; or maybe worrying, but not acting on it just now. 

“Be honest, is this the best breakfast you ever had?” Chuckling, she watched as her friend stared at the plate, getting some bites of her own herself. Ivy was utterly confident, but it was always nice to make sure.

“That’s an interesting story you just told me.” Smiling, she crossed eyes with the person before going back to tools and drinks. Life running a pub was anything but calm, and she needed to get going if her intention was attending all clients. Still, it might make not so much harm to give them attention, after all, they had just sat in front of her. “I used to get in trouble too, but for other reasons. Remember that band who used to come here every now and them, with an elf as a lead singer and those three half giants following her?” They might, after all; how long had it been, twenty five years? Something like that. Well, they’d been going to that pub way before she was alive, so Ivy was sure their memory would follow. 

“For the sake of our friendship, I’ll grant you an embarrassing memory.” Chuckling, Ivy took a sip of mead before formulating a nice answer. There was laughter in her eyes when she made her way back to childhood, almost reliving it as she told him. “When I was seven, my parents decided it would be a great idea to spend a week at a muggle village. They wanted to show me a little more of the world and experience some of the pubs in it, so there we went. The thing is, that week fell exactly in the week of Halloween, so everybody was getting prepared to the big event, including the kids - and they invited me! What was my brilliant idea? Dress myself as my grandma. Yeap, I told everyone she was a wicked witch and poisoned people with sweets and drinks.”

Hii! Ivy here is in need of more connections and plots and I’d love to chat with whoever is interested <3 I’ve been talking to some of you but I’m a lot for the phrase “the more the merrier”, so if you want a starter just like this and I’ll make sure to write us something!

Even though many recognize the Three Broomsticks as a good place for drinking and food, it’s true what they say about teenagers on the area - many went there during school break, looking for a place in which they could both relax and feel enough welcomed to try something on the menu themselves. A few she liked Ivy let them spend the time there, meaning in times they shouldn’t be on her place but at school instead; yet, she didn’t encourage such behaviour. Her encouragement had more to do with making them know no matter how stressed out it would be, the effort they put on studying would certainly matter in the future. How unfortunate it was that many weren’t thinking about it anymore, a lot more worried with what had to do with the war; she couldn’t help but feel disappointed with this, they were just kids, almost like her, the only difference was she had finished her studies more than ten years ago, while they… they should have given the opportunity to truly enjoy their years at Hogwarts, not worry about what was going on in the outside.

Which was a few of the reasons why she was staring at the darkened image of Regulus Black, quietly resenting whoever let the boy spent so much time at her place. Not that it had anything to do with her, but Ivy had noticed the many hours he spent studying, always by himself and sitting somewhere many wouldn’t see him unless searching, seemingly focused and untroubled by whatever went on around his chair. She had his doubts but kept it to herself, even if he might not be at all studying what a boy his age needed to, it wasn’t like his business had anything to do with her; should it be interesting for Aversio to know what went on in his mind, she might try and figure something out, but now? Now she wanted to help him the few ways she could: offering a few drinks and meal, whenever he went too long without asking for something.

This had actually went on for years now, and they never spoke much - she had tried, only to realize he kept things to himself even when not with a book under his nose. A few hours later that day, the pub closed. What interested her was the fact that he didn’t move and, while walking to approach him, she noticed he wasn’t reading, or doing anything for that matter but sleeping. Ivy let her body fall in a chair, calmly, a small smile playing on her lips as she observed the scene. Perhaps it was better to let him sleep, Merlin knew how tired he was and how he would react at any attempt to awake him. So she went somewhere else, still in that area, fixing everything on the pub before sitting again, a book on her hands. The reason why she didn’t sleep herself was simply because she had, almost until the end of the afternoon, before taking over the bar from the other bartender.

A few more hours and he moved. With that she realized he would be awaking soon, which made sense given sun was already rising above. Madam Rosmerta closed the book and went to the kitchen area, preparing a fast meal to herself and him; a soup, a bread. Something simple, really. Water for her, the only drink she saw him drinking with certain frequency for him. Why was she doing that? Well, Ivy usually let some of her patrons, the ones who regularly went to the pub, to stay there if a similar situation happened. Of course, only on a certain cases, and she extended such treatment for a few people, but for those… she didn’t mind helping. Why get stressed out?

“Morning.” She waved calmly at him after letting the food on the table next to his figure, realizing he was awaking now. “You fell asleep a few hours ago, I thought it best to let you rest. Here, take some food.” She offered, more like not taking a no for an answer, and he knew his stomach was probably hungry for any sustenance.

“Has anybody told you it’s not healthy to study that much?” There wasn’t judgment in her voice, though. If anything, she wished he would calm down a little, maybe focus on things boys his age normally would. With a calm presence and movements, she let her body rest once again.

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.

Many thoughts went racing through Ivy’s mind as she took in the complete silence at the bar. They were usually opened at 11:30am, however with the recent events at the Ministry and considering all the craziness in the Wizarding World at the moment, she decided it was best, at least for that day, to let it open a few hours later. This was because they all needed time to suck up the knews - some, she knew, would be celebrating, while others morning at such a loss. No one found it easy to bow down to any type of new others - especially a racist, dumb one, she thought to herself -, and just like many who had also joined both Aversio or the Order, they weren't planning on letting things stay like that. For now, all Ivy could do was wait for the members of her own organization. Once aware of how she could help, if she could at all, than things might calm down at her mind; or not, considering she wasn’t near pleased with the recent informations.

She let a strong drink slip through her throat, intending on giving herself no more than ten minutes before standing up and following with her life, after all there were things to be done and even people to talk to, no matter how dangerous it could be. Yet… the door suddenly opened, she wasn’t expecting it at all.  Patrons were welcomed at all times, even if they might receive a ‘We’re not open’ for an answer, but the person who showed up wasn’t exactly a costomer. Instead, Ivy took in the presence she knew almost too well. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the man of the hour some used to joke at Hogwarts years, and a dear friend of hers. Both hufflepuff and having the same age, it made sense how much they knew of one another given they grew up together; secrets, of course, weren’t included in such conversation. Yet ‘dear friend’ might be shaken considering she refused to work for the order; at the very least they were both aware of one another thoughts on blood.

It’s fair to say none of them were pleased with the last news. “Kingsley… you surprised me, I thought you might have more to do instead of showing up at an old friend’s place.” Smiling, she showed him the chair just next to her. Her tone was completely friendly and with a hint of humour at the bottom of her voice. She might not be jumping in happiness out of seeing him, but a friend’s company is still a welcoming one, or at least it should be. 

“Want a drink? I couldn’t go without one…” she thought for a second, there wasn’t anybody there but them “not after hearing those racist jerks took over the Ministry.” Turning her body a little around to face him better, she let a grimace appear in her face before continuing “now will you tell me how the hell you allowed this?” Perhaps no, this wasn’t only at his hands and yes, it might be a lot difficult to stop a group of unfortunately strong duelists from taking over a place, but still... she couldn’t help but think there might have been something to stop them. Or maybe no. Maybe she would end up forgetting about such a terrible subject, for the moment, and let him relax, as she should to anyone in the pub. 

There was no greater beauty than that which was found in the construction of something equally loved and powerful, crafted by the meticulous hands of those who understood how much power each of their fingers held. Ivy understood such precept by heart, aware of the force hiding behind many of the drinks she served to the patrons, most of which were blended mixtures. While some decided to underestimate their force, speaking of which effects none of them offered, careful observations might serve to notice even the most seemingly innocent mixtures could be useful for mischief and maliciousness. Of course, this had never been her desire, nor had she focused on specializing in such thing, but few - once aware of thus power - could deny how important her brewing might be as a base for the art of getting useful information. Get somebody drunk with Rosmerta’s drinks and, sure, the person won’t lie dead, much less lose their memories or the ability to think, but surely they’ll speak; seductive drinks means more alcohol and alcohol with comfort is a dangerous combo.

Which is why she needed to get her hands on more ingredients.

See it, had never been Ivy’s plan to work with the idea of getting information lying on an unconscious level of her mind. Never had she aimed at the art of manipulating, finding it dreadful and mostly useful to the desperate. She much preferred a direct approach, once wanting to know something it did serve her best to simply ask the person, or offer something in return; the war, though, had helped changing such mindset, and now she understood asking questions could be even more dangerous than trying to get them. Attention was a word none of them seeked, at least, none of then who weren’t eager to fight, and Ivy fell into the group. To win the war, though, she would have to do some sacrifices, such as joining efficiency with the knowledge she had of ingredients and potions, this way she could craft drinks useful enough, yet discreet. Then, whenever somebody approached her, it made her life easier; it got them to talk faster, not too much they would find it odd at the following morning, neither too little - as hers were good for relaxing.

Now, Rosmerta wandered through the ‘corridors’ of the Diagon Alley in hope of finding the nearest shop nearby. Some had closed, it seemed, while others weren’t open still, as morning had barely started. Finally she found something at the end of one of those small streets, relieve rushing through her body as she made her way toward it. That is, until a form in the shadows, under a pillar, called her attention. This time she breathed not wish any left easiness, deciding to hide in another as she had a better notion of who it was. Ivy wanted nothing more than to do her business without bumping into anybody which could offer danger of any sorts, she wasn’t a paranoid person at all however anybody knew it was better to be safe than sorry. At some point though she recognize the blonde tresses, a posture too alike somebody she knew to actually be a potential enemy - not that she even had one.

“Narcissa?” Ivy called the woman only a few meters in front of her, her voice the only sound for the last few minutes. With the street empty if not for some of the open stores, the sight of two women was a curious one. At least she had chosen right, it was Narcissa, realizing such thing was easy as she was getting closer. Ivy let the basket at her hands fall to one side of her body. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone at these hours.” Ivy smiled, adrenaline rising through her body as thoughts raced with assertions and hypotheses. Carefulness was necessary, yes, but perhaps not with the Black; she was some sort of friend after all. “It seems many don’t feel comfortable walking here anymore. A pity, don’t you think? I remember when these streets were full with people at all hours.”