LYRA ROSE BLACK wasn't used to being second best. That was until third year. That was until Sirius Black decided to break out of Azkaban (don't ask her how he did it, she doesn't even know) and reunite with his daughter and godson.
HARRY JAMES POTT...
❚CHAPTER TWELVE. ⎯⎯SEVERUS SNAPE, FRENCH GENTLEMEN, AND FIREPLACE DRAMATICS
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❚DUMBLEDORE'S OFFICE, HALLOWEEN OF 1994
WHILE THE SLYTHERIN party was in full swing, a castle away stood a rather large group of nervous individuals. They stood, bated breath and furrowed eyebrows, staring expectantly at Dumbledore.
Albus Dumbledore, who had just finished a lemon candy, looked up at them. He cocked his head to the side as if he were thinking very very hard about something important. "I suppose, she will compete. They both will."
The group exclaimed, no one too happy with the result other than the Minister of Magic himself who simply shrugged with pursed lips.
"B-But Dumblydore!" Madame Maxine began, her large body tense and rigid, "This is not fair! Simply not fair! My school has only one champion while yours is allowed three? An unfair advantage I'd say! C'est des conneries!"
Severus Snape, never one to hold back his thoughts on particular matters, stared at her as if she were the most idiotic woman he'd ever met. He liked to believe he was a relatively impartial man, but he was well aware that Lyra had wormed her way into his good graces. "Come off it," he muttered, ensuring it was loud enough for her to hear.
"Pardon?" Maxine asked, head cocked to the side in disbelief that this small man dressed in all black had spoken to her in such a way. Where she was from they would refer to him as a plouc--an uncultured idiot.
Severus rolled his eyes, clearly displeased that he had to repeat himself. "I said," he began in a louder tone, elongating his words. "Come off it. We have not only one, but two children who are going to be competing in a dangerous tournament and all you can think of is how Hogwarts has an unfair advantage? With all due respect, which I don't believe is a lot, we have bigger issues to worry about than who's going to win a tournament. For example, who put Potter's name in? Who put Miss. Black's name in. Can we get them out of this alive? Just to name a few."
Madame Maxine, clearly used to French gentlemen let out a gasp and placed her hand over her heart as if Severus had just suggested they kill the bloody kids so they can't participate. Although, the more he thought of Potter's smug face when he gave him a quip in class, the more appealing it sounded. Clearly through with talking and having had her pride thoroughly insulted, the large woman exited the room with a glare and upturned nose.
Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat awkwardly. If he was being honest, he wasn't listening to much of what Maxine or Severus had been saying. He kept recalling his harshness towards Lyra, at the end of the day it hadn't been her fault if she truly had not put her name in. Albus had just been so shocked because, well, he knew what was going to happen, and she wasn't supposed to be apart of it. He made a note to apologize to her later. He truly had no issues with her. In fact, he rather liked her. One thing he didn't like, though, was her keen observation. She looked at him like she knew something about him. Like she knew that he knew things he shouldn't have. It set him on edge.
"Well! What an eventful night! Surely nothing that can't be solved with a bit of rest!"
Minerva McGonagall spoke up from the corner she had been leaning against. "Albus, are you sure that's the best course of action? I mean we have two children who are being endangered. Shouldn't we-"
Albus held up his hand to silence her. "Rest, Minerva. They'll still be in danger in the morning, don't see why we should lose too much sleep over it just yet."
Minerva, her lips screwed up and eyebrows raised in a disapproving manner, shook her head lightly and left the room. Severus Snape rose to follow, having a feeling he would make no progress getting through to Dumbledore as the man was already rummaging through his desk for a lemon candy and chatting with a portrait that stared at him disdainfully, clearly trying to rest.
Severus shook his head. He swore the man was going mad. If this was what the wizarding world was depending on, he was for once grateful that Harry Potter may possess all this unknown power. He may be a git but at least his head was screwed on properly.
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❚GRYFFINDOR COMMON ROOM, HALLOWEEN OF 1994
HARRY POTTER SAT in the common room, warming his hands near the fire. There wasn't much else to do. Ron Weasley had been giving him dirty looks and calling him a liar since his name came out of that bloody goblet. Harry had opted to be anywhere that Ron was not. He went on a nice, long, chilly walk around the lake until curfew, and then sat in a chair (the very chair him a Lyra had shared not too long ago; He had decided it was his favorite spot in the castle) working on some light homework. That only lasted him until eleven and he was nowhere near tired. Not sure what else to do, he moved his chair forward until he could feel the heat from the fireplace.
He took a moment to himself. The first one he'd taken in a very long time. It was soothing, feeling the heat warm his body and the comfort of the chair. He even swore that he could smell a lingering scent of Lyra if he turned his head just right-
"'Ello Harry!"
Harry jumped, nearly toppling over the back of the chair. He looked frantically around the common room.
"Down here!"
Harry looked down into the fire, coming face to flame with Sirius Black. "Oh, hello Sirius," Harry spoke cooly. "How've you been?"
Sirius's face, even formed by embers, ashes, and flames, was taken over by a large smile as he shook his head. "It's been quiet here since you lot left. Not as quiet as your time at Hogwarts, I'm hearing. You've barely been at school, and you're already illegally entered into the Tri-wizard Tournament. I wish that'd been a thing while I was there. James and I surely would've gotten into some trouble. Anyways, let's get down to the matter at hand." Harry, who wanted nothing more than to continue hearing about what Sirius and James would have gotten up to, nodded his head. He thought of how there may have been a time where his father sat in the exact room, maybe even in this same chair, but shook the thought from his mind. It would do no good dwelling on the past. "Did you put your name in?"
Harry groaned, slumping back in the chair. "No," he began, monotonously. "I did not put my name in, not that anyone believes me anyway. I've been asked it over and over and over. Lyra too! I can't even imagine how the Slytherins are interrogating her," he said, having absolutely no knowledge of the party being thrown not too far away from him.
Sirius's face screwed up as his eyes widened. "Lyra? What does Lyra have to do with this?"
Harry's face screwed up in return, reminding Sirius very much of Lily when he would play a "harmless" prank on Snape. "What do you mean? We're both in the tournament. Why would she not have anything to do with this?"
"You mean to tell me," Sirius began, face stoic and voice dangerously low. "That my daughter is in the most dangerous tournament in the world--where she could be killed--and I'm only finding out about this now?"
Harry nervously looked everywhere but the fireplace, "Er--yes. Kind of." There was a beat of silence before Sirius's face disappeared from the fire and it was put out all together. A gust of wind gave Harry chills. He had no doubt that it was another one of his godfather's dramatic exits. He groaned and pinched his eyes shut, trying desperately to remember a spell that would relight the fireplace.
His eyes snapped open. Bloody hell! Lyra was going to kill him!
