I THOUGHT THAT WAS VERY SLYTHERIN OF YOU.

DUMBLEDORE SAT PATIENTLY IN HIS OFFICE, knowing that it was only a matter of time in spite of how late it was. After all, Harry's owl Hedwig would've had time to make it all the way to Black Manor by now, likely waking the other residents up with the letter explaining the current conundrum. And just as he suspected, the yelling started as soon as the entrance to his office opened.

"You must be bloody insane if you think I'm gonna let my godson compete in that tournament, you old bag of—"

"Sirius!" Ivy cut him off, a few steps behind him. She looked shamefully at her old Headmaster. "I'm sorry, Professor."

"Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall said — she knew he'd be there too and was waiting since she was Harry's Head of House. "Have care how you speak."

"Not now, Minnie," he scoffed.

"Have a seat, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said while standing from his desk. "You as well, Ms. Arora. I wasn't expecting you, but you are most welcome."

Ivy politely took a seat next to McGonagall, and when Sirius didn't immediately sit, she tugged on his arm and pulled him down into the chair next to her.

Somehow, Harry's name was produced from the Goblet of Fire even though he never put his name in — not that he could. Dumbledore drew an Age Line himself that Harry couldn't cross. Not even the twins could with an aging potion they concocted.

"How the hell did his name end up in there because I know he didn't put it in himself?" Sirius asked, glaring at Dumbledore. And before the Headmaster could reply, he was rattling off more questions. "No, actually, why the hell are you allowing him to compete? He's a child — he's fourteen with abysmal marks. He doesn't have a clue about the kind of magic he needs to keep himself safe. Why even have an age restriction if you're not going to follow it?"

"It matters not if Harry submitted his own name or not. When the Goblet chose him, he was entered into a binding contract. Barty Crouch himself has ordered Harry to compete," Dumbledore explained.

"People have died in this tournament, Albus!" he shouted, getting to his feet once more. "You haven't thought for even a minute that someone entered his name to get him killed? Between Pettigrew's escape and the riot, I know you cannot be this ignorant to what's going on here."

"I'm fully aware of the threat this poses to Harry, but my hands are tied," he told him calmly. "But the Dementors are on campus—"

"Yeah, they're a right dab hand at their jobs," Sirius said sarcastically, knowing how easily he infiltrated Hogwarts.

"Siri, I'm sure Dumbledore will do everything in his power to keep Harry safe without interfering with the tournament," Ivy said. To the side, McGonagall mouthed the nickname 'Siri' to herself, confused by the nature of their relationship. "If there was anything that could be done, he'd have pulled Harry out, and you know it."

Sirius huffed childishly, knowing she was right. "I need to see him."

"It's late, Mr. Black," McGonagall said. "He's sleeping, most likely."

Ivy shook her head, knowing Harry well. "I'm sure he's still awake in the common room, thinking it all over."

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "I shall send a House Elf to retrieve him."

As Dumbledore got up from his desk, Sirius sat back down next to Ivy. To ease his anxiety, he ended up pulling her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

McGonagall raised a thin eyebrow. "I wasn't aware there was a chair shortage going on."

Ivy blushed and tried to slide back to her chair, only for Sirius to tighten his hold on her, making her stay right where she was.

"Minnie, she's the only thing keeping me from storming into Crouch's office myself and wringing his neck," he told her.

"Not that it's not lovely to see you, Ms. Arora, but why have you come?" McGonagall asked, holding back a sigh.

"I've been living with them since my parents died, Professor," she explained.

"Living on Mr. Black's lap?" she countered.

Sirius couldn't help but smirk. "Amongst other body parts, yes."

"Sirius!" Ivy hissed in embarrassment, pinching his arm.

"Ivette," McGonagall said, lowering her glasses. "You're a very bright young woman—"

"I feel like my feelings are about to be hurt," Sirius muttered.

"Surely you know you can do better than Mr. Black," she said, shaking her head.

"You say that, Professor, but something tells me you don't mean that," she said with a smile. "And no, I couldn't do better. Sirius is quite the gentleman when he wants to be, if you can believe it."

"I cannot," she said flatly.

Sirius scoffed, pretending to be hurt. "You wound me, Minnie. You know you practically raised me."

"Which is why I suspect Ms. Arora is lying."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, returning to his desk, "I do miss how you two show affection for each other. And it's nice to know you're settling in well to a life of freedom, Mr. Black."

After a few more minutes of chatting, they were finally joined by Harry, who immediately ran into Ivy's arms when he spotted her.

"Didn't I tell you not to get into trouble this year, HJ?" she asked, running her hands through his hair.

"Didn't mean to," he mumbled. "I swear I didn't put my name in."

"We know that," Sirius told him. "No one in their right mind would believe you did this yourself."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Then Ron's not in his right mind."

"I'm sure he'll come around," Ivy sighed. Ron got so little attention with how many siblings he had, and she knew he got jealous of Harry at times. It was understandable, but their friendship would overcome this.

"But it sounds like nothing can be done," Sirius told him. "You have to compete."

"How?" he asked, his eyes wide. "I mean, I can't!"

Ivy squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "HJ, we are all here to help you. If anyone can help you learn the spells you need, it's Hermione and Remus too. And you're a powerful wizard, Harry — you just have to learn to hone your skills."

"I just don't understand why someone would do this to me," he said, his voice sounding so small — sounding like the fourteen-year-old child that he really was.

Sirius cut his eyes to Dumbledore angrily, both of them knowing why this was being done to him — the big question was who was behind it all.

"Don't worry, HJ. We'll find out who's responsible," Ivy assured him. "I'll talk to Val — there might be some spells they can use to track who entered what names. Maybe one of the ghosts saw it happen or an older student will confess to pulling a prank when they see how dangerous this is. Just remember that you aren't going through this alone. You'll never be alone, Harry."

| | |

Sirius had a picnic for Ivy planned the next day, but the mood was ruined as both of them were worried about Harry. Already, they planned to spend weekends at Hogsmeade so that they could see Harry and help him try to figure out how to survive the tournament.

In between discussing what was to be done, Ivy was staring up at the clouds, her head on Sirius' lap. She'd point out different shapes, and then he'd correct her on what he thought they looked like.

It reminded Sirius of a simpler time when he was masquerading as a dog, spending sunny afternoons outside with her. It was worrying to know that even when he was a fugitive on the run, it was still less complicated than things were now.

In a matter of weeks, everything had changed. Harry was in more danger than ever, Peter escaped Azkaban and could possibly be behind what was happening with the tournament, the riot that had everyone shaken, and the fact that Sirius still didn't know if Ivy was safe or not — he'd bet all his money on not.

"That's a bumblebee," Ivy said, pointing at the sky.

Sirius scoffed and grabbed her hand, lowering it. "That is a flower, obviously. I mean, are you blind? Because you thought that snake was a hair ribbon."

"I thought that was very Slytherin of you to think it was a snake," she murmured teasingly.

Sirius gasped as if she'd wounded his honor and pride — she had, truthfully. He raised his knee to hit the back of her head while scoffing. "How dare you? I took the time to cook this nice meal and plan a picnic for you, and you call me a bloody Slytherin?"

"My best friend is a Slytherin," she reminded him. "Val is wonderful."

"And she terrifies me at times," he muttered. "Remus will have his hands full with that one once they sort everything out."

"What if they don't?" Ivy asked quietly.

"Of course, they will."

"But, I mean, he was her teacher and he did sleep with her knowing he wouldn't want something more — granted they were both drunk, so he wasn't being malicious. It's all just so confusing," she muttered, feeling anxious about it all. She didn't like seeing the people she cared about unhappy. "And I can understand why he might never feel comfortable perusing her. Even if she's my best friend, I can't be mad at him for that."

"I'm sure Val has it in her to be mad at him for the both of you," Sirius said. Then he sighed. "Look, I can hardly give my opinion on the matter, especially with your age and the way I took advantage of you."

Ivy sat up in an instant, peering at him in disbelief. "You didn't take advantage of me," she said in a firm tone. "I know that it may feel like that with how we met, but you were just trying to survive. But you didn't coerce me or trick me or lie to me. And we've both spent a long time worrying about our age and how this is going to work — with everything else going on, can we just agree to leave it be and just be in love?"

Sirius smiled softly while cupping her face. "I suppose being in love with you isn't the most exhausting task in the world."

Then he kissed her, and she sighed happily into his mouth as he wrapped his arms around her. Sirius moved to lie down on the grass, pulling her on top of him. Ivy giggled and tangled her fingers in his hair before pulling back, kissing all over his face, making him laugh. Merlin, she loved his laugh.

Sirius let her pepper kisses all over his face, eating up the attention. However, the nice moment was ruined by an owl swooping in and dropping a letter right on top of Ivy's head. She pulled back and smoothed her hair down before reaching for the letter, staying on top of Sirius as she opened it.

"It's from Charlie," she told him, folding it out on Sirius' firm chest to read it while he relaxed with his arms behind his head. When he saw her frown, he asked what the letter said.

"Dear Ivy," she read. "I shouldn't be telling you this — I could be sacked. But I've been hired to bring four dragons to Hogwarts at the end of November. A Swedish Short-Snout, Welsh Green, Chinese Fireball, and a Hungarian Horntail. I think we both can guess why they're needed. Perhaps Harry should be warned so he can start to prepare. I hope to see you at the first task. Sincerely, Charlie."

"Dragons?" Sirius asked, his eyes wide. "Harry has to fight a dragon?"

"Surely not fight one," Ivy said, drawing her eyebrows in. "I mean, that'd be considered creature cruelty. But I can't imagine that whatever they need the dragons for is pleasant."

"I'll write Harry," Sirius said, getting ready to get up.

"You can't — not him directly," Ivy said, grabbing his wrist. "These rules are brutal. If they find out he's cheating, there's no telling what the punishment will be."

"Then what exactly do you suggest we do?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We'll write Ron or Hermione. We know that they won't be checking their correspondence. Then maybe HJ can tell Cedric as well," she claimed. "I think that'd be the safest way to get the information to them."

Sirius looked down at her with admiration. "Do you know how hot you are when plotting? I can see why the twins were so desperate for your help all last year — you're a genius."

She hummed and leaned up, pecking his lips. "Flatter me all you want — I'm not helping you prank Remus."