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 SIX. ⎯⎯ SNOGGING VINCENT KRUM IN THE HALLWAY
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❚SLYTHERIN COMMON ROOM, 1994
"SO, I'VE BEEN thinking," Lyra starts, plopping down on the common room couch.
Vincent Krum jolts awake. He had been waiting for the girl to return before he went to bed for the night, but it turns out insulting a Ministry official is more than an hour-long detention. She was expecting to be out by nine, but nine faded to ten which bled to eleven. You know, as hours do. "I haven't known you long, but it seems that you don't do a lot of thinking. For example, your three-hour-long detention."
"Oh, shut up. I have to ask a question."
Vin raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "Okay, shoot."
Lyra Black got more comfortable on the green velvet of the couch, turning to make eye contact with the Durmstrang student. "You weren't planning on entering the tournament, right?"
He let out a frustrated groan, leaning his head back. "No! Everyone who enters is insanely stupid. I mean, risking your life for eternal glory? Blah. But the media is going to be all over me if I don't put my name in. I can already read the headlines: Bulgarian Chaser, Vincent Krum: Takes Bludgers to the Head but Afraid of a Goblet?"
The girl rubbed her lips together, the subtle shade of red that had pigmented her lips from her cherry chapstick becoming slightly darker, "Then I have a solution to your issue. Well, to both of our issues. You just turned seventeen, correct?"
"Yes, last week. Why?" Vin eyed her suspiciously.
Lyra put on her most convincing smile, running her hand through her hair. "I want in on the tournament, but I'm not seventeen. You need to be seen putting in a name. So, tomorrow, before they call names of the champions, you go up with your brother and put in the slip, but it has my name on it instead. Boom, now your name is cleared and mine is in a goblet."
"No, absolutely not. I am not going to put your name in there. People die in that tournament." Vincent was sitting upright, jaw tense, as he stared at Lyra who was still lounging on the couch. Her eyes pleaded with him, showing she had another reason for doing this besides eternal glory.
"Vin, please. I need this."
Lyra's desperation seemed to put his common sense on hold. He saw the hope swimming in her eyes. She truly did want this, for whatever reason he could no fathom. Vincent sighed, "Fine."
She tackled him in a hug. This was her chance. Her father would finally be impressed with her. This tournament would give what she'd been longing for, her father's approval.
