Dear Ivy,

I can't believe the Zonkos are tryin to take back yer house. I wrote a note to Arthur Weasley. He's in Muggle Artifacts at the Ministry, an he may be able to help ya.

We finely found the hippogriff herd Olaf's bin talkin bout all summer. They were the prettiest critters I ever saw, next to Norbert an Buckbeak. How I wish you coulda seen em. They brot tears to my eyes. Maxime din't like em so much. Scared they'd fly over us and mess up her hair. It's too bad all the little ones have alreddy hatched. An Maxime won't here a me try to catch us a hatchling.

PS: Dont worry bout yer house. We wont let em take it. And if they do, we'll jus get married early, and you can move in wi' me.

All my love,

Hagrid

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Ivy,

Don't worry about the basement, Remus and I went and made sure everything is OK. The secret passage is hidden so well I don't know if we will even be able to find it again. I can't tell you how upset I am about all of this. Zonko won't show his face near the pub, and it's best that he doesn't. What a weasel! (And I don't think his father has anything to do with this.) Or his brother. Zeke already approached me on it. Said he had no problem with you owning the house, but Zack knows you won't go public, because of your father.

Keep your chin up! We'll figure out a way to make this work.

Love,

Rosmerta

~~~~~~~~~

Dear Ivy,

Just wanted you to know that I've contacted Blackie and warned him about your basement. He says he's not planning on visiting Hogsmeade anytime soon, so at least that's taken care of. And Rose and I hid the secret tunnel. I've met with Dumbledore on this, he's looking into it. (I think he may meet with the Zonkos, to try and reason with them.)

Hope my next letter has good news.

Take care!

Remus

~~~~~~~~~

Ivy sorted through the letters on her table. Everyone who had written had told her not worry, but she found it hard to do as her friends advised. As it was, she was due at the Dursley's any minute, and she was in no mood for the performance that would require. She'd been working on them from across the fence since the day they'd met, planting seeds in their heads that she was on their side, commiserating with their 'problem': Harry Potter. She spent hours coming up with ridiculous torments for the boy. Plotting more and more gruesome tasks so that Vernon and Petunia would absolutely grovel at her feet to take their charge. She hated how they took satisfaction in the fact that he'd be miserable. Her only consolation was knowing that the Dursleys were being outwitted.

"Not that it takes a genius to accomplish that," she muttered, grabbing a short leather quirt and heading out the back door. Fang lay in the grass, sunning near the pumpkin patch Ivy and Harry had planted. The new growth waved at her in the summer breeze, tender and green. Ivy sighed. The only reason they'd planted it was to ease her ache for Hagrid. In reality it was too late in the season for pumpkins, so they'd chosen the shadiest part of the garden, in hopes that the plants would not wither in the sun.

Ivy was nearly to the place in the hedge where Vernon had overseen Harry's removal of a section of privet. He'd decided, upon scrutiny of Ivy's slight form, that she'd be better off using a path through the hedge than driving her motor scooter all the way around the block. Ivy hadn't argued. In her mind it only brought her that much closer to Harry, who in turn brought her that much closer to the memory of Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and Hagrid.

Something in the shadows stopped her in her tracks. Or rather, the something that stopped her was a shadow. A black, shaggy shadow whose form she knew by heart. She took a step or two backwards, landing abruptly on a concrete garden bench.

"Blackie...?" she murmured, barely able to speak. The shadow stood to its feet and lumbered in her direction.

"It is you," she said as the dog's forelegs landed in her lap. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing hard. "I've missed you," she crooned softly. "You always know just when to show up." Then she heaved a sigh. They would all be waiting at the house across the garden. Petunia would show her through her obsessively clean house, and Dudley would make sure his chair was as close to hers as possible. Vernon would just steal leering glances at her from over his tea cup. Ivy shuddered.

"Hideous," she whispered. Blackie whined in her ear.

"Not you," she managed to smile. "Those Dursleys. I have to go meet them for tea. It's become a weekend tradition. And it better pay off."

She pushed Blackie's paws off her knees and stood up, wanting more than anything to stay home with him, rather than spend her time at #4 Privet Drive. For Harry's sake she dusted off her jeans and walked through the gap in the hedge, promising Blackie she'd be back as soon as she could. At least knowing he was there would make her afternoon more bearable. She looked back fondly at him, standing poised to knock at the Dursley's back door.

"See you soon, Blackie," she muttered. Porky Dudley Dursley was swinging the door open even as she raised the quirt to knock. Ivy gasped at how close she'd come to hitting him across the face.

"Oh... Dudley I am so sorry," she said, stepping into the house. She caught Harry's eye for a second, then cut her eyes toward the back door. Recovering from the shock of nearly bloodying Dudley's nose, she managed a wide grin.

"Found another dog today," she announced cheerily, slapping the quirt against her right leg. "No doubt a stray." Not waiting for Dudley to lead the way, she pushed past him into the kitchen. "He's big. And black. And wonderfully shaggy. You'll have to help me bathe and de-flea him tomorrow, Harry."

Harry groaned, turning away from them to stare out the window. Ivy could only imagine the smile that spread across his face at knowing Sirius Black was in town. She'd definitely have to come up with some revolting reason to get him back over to her house. The sooner, the better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You take your tea with lemon, if I remember?" Petunia Dursley crooned. Although her voice sounded silky enough, the look of distaste on her long, pinched features was downright comical. Ivy shrugged apologetically.

"Just one of those American habits," she said. "But I don't mind taking cream and sugar, if you'd rather. Either way is -"

"Please, Ms. Ollivander," Vernon Dursley purred, in an I'm-in-charge-here kind of voice. "We bought a bit of lemon just because we knew you were joining us today. It was Dudley's idea."

Ivy (ever so grudgingly) turned her gaze on Dudley, hoping she looked as doe-eyed as the situation demanded. "You are a dear," she told him, batting an eyelash. "Then bring on the lemon," she announced to Petunia, who got teary-eyed as she saw her son swell with every compliment.

"Of course," Petunia, managed a quick little smile, then passed Ivy her tea. "Have you heard from your school board in the States?"

Ivy tried not to choke on her tea. She couldn't afford to forget the details of the story she'd been feeding them.

"I wrote, yes," she managed. "They sent me back a form letter. They won't agree to fund any of my research until I have at least one student ready to enroll in my school. And I have to have some progress to report. You know. Be able to prove my methods. They set so much stock on past achievements. It's ridiculous, really. You'd think they'd understand that we all learn from our mistakes, and allow people to move on. They are psychologists, and all. Although, between you and me and a fence pole, I still believe strongly in the old punishments. I mean... behavioral modification. You have to break them, then re-make them, I always say!" She finished with gusto, ducking her head at the last minute so she'd appear modest.

"Sorry," she whispered, glancing up at them. "Didn't mean to go on."

"Such a pity," Petunia Dursley sighed.

"Pity... yes. Why in my day, if a boy so much as appeared to be out of the ordinary..." Ivy tuned out Vernon Dursley's monologue. In her mind she conjured up magical torments for the immense, neck-less man. Harry'd already told her about Fred and George Weasley slipping Dudley a Ton-Tongue Toffee. Ivy thought a nice Incendio to the ends of Vernon's droopy moustache would do nicely. Later on, she, Harry and Sirius argued it back and forth across Ivy's kitchen table.

"An Epoximise would have stuck him to the chair for a while," Ivy continued. "I almost saw his moustache smoldering while I imagined the Incendio. I wouldn't bother with a Stupify, though. It's just bounce right off."

Harry snickered, nearly spewing butterbeer across the table. "No need for a Take Root spell either," he agreed. "Sometimes I think Dobby's come in and already done that one on Dudley. There are days he never leaves the couch."

"That boy," Ivy muttered. "He gives me the shivers." Then she turned her attention to Sirius.

"Are you here because we saw Wormtail, or because of the Zonkos and my house?"

Sirius grinned. "It's always all about you, isn't it? Maybe I dropped in because I thought you needed some butterbeer. Or to make sure the Dursleys hadn't figured you out."

"Ivy's got them eating out of her hand," Harry said proudly. "They talk about her like she's a ruddy saint."

"Harry!" Ivy chided. "Watch your language. And I'm not a saint. I just try to think like a normal person, then do the opposite. Vernon Dursley makes my skin crawl."

"He thinks you're cute as a button. He told Dudley about the birds and the bees, last Monday. All because of you."

Ivy shuddered. "I hope Dumbledore gets us out of here, soon...."

Looking over at Sirius, she grinned. "Is that really why you came? To bring us butterbeer?"

Sirius studied her for a moment, then turned to look at Harry. Being with them felt good, and he'd long since forgotten about trying to wipe the smile off his face. "Maybe I missed you. Both. And maybe... just maybe I'm here to make sure Pettigrew isn't in the neighborhood. Or maybe I discovered that this is where the action is this summer. Wouldn't want to miss out on all this Muggle-baiting you two are imagining. "

"But neither one of us can do any magic, can we?" Ivy asked innocently.

"It's a good thing," Sirius agreed. "Creating a nuclear waste dump in a suburb of Surrey probably wouldn't sit well with the Ministry."

"Nuclear waste..." Ivy spoke dreamily. "There's something we haven't thought of Harry."

Ivy's musing were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. She grabbed the receiver, listening to Petunia Dursley on the other end.

"I'll send him on home, then Petunia," Ivy answered. "No... he's been no trouble. Seems to have a way with fleas, actually. He may come home with a few bites on his arms. Should I hose him off before I send him your way?"

A loud noise sounded over the receiver, and Ivy pulled the phone away from her ear. "Oh no...." Ivy protested. "I'd feel very responsible if he had to sleep outside with the dogs all night. Besides, my little babies sleep in the basement."

There was a pause as Petunia contemplated what to do with a flea-infested Harry Potter.

"He's welcome to the basement," Ivy broke in. "I think I have an extra rug he can sleep on. Oh.... I see. That does complicate things somewhat. No.... No, please, Mrs. Dursley. I'm sure I can find something for Potter to do while you and Vernon take a holiday. Yes, you did tell me about that. A week in Salisbury. Sounds positively enchanting. Yes, I'm sure little Dudley needs some time away. You are NOT imposing on our friendship. I may even get to experiment a little... you know, for my research. Yes!"

She rolled her eyes at Harry and Sirius while Petunia chattered on the other end.

"Alright then, it's settled. I'll send Harry over for some of his things in the morning. You take your time in the countryside. Take as long as you need. By the time you get back I'll have a file folder filled with experiments on behavior modification. Yes! May even help me get back my certification. Alright, then. I'll see you later. Yes, of course. Bye-bye!"

She hung up the phone. "Looks like you owe me big time Potter," she announced. "Your Aunt and Uncle have decided to move their vacation up a week. They may even stay gone this week and next. I made all the arrangements so you can stay here."

That was when Ivy realized the wisdom of Professor Dumbledore sound-proofing the house on Boxwood Drive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Ivy,

We're meetin with the leaders of the giant clan tomorrow mornin. We found some a there group at ar last stop yesterday afternoon. One of em tole me he heard a my mum. He reckons shes still alive and livin in the mountains. I'll find that out tomorrow, too.

How's everything with you an Harry? I hope yer punkin patch makes it throu the summer. I left some garden imps behind to take care a mine. Hope they do there job.

I will close this letter hopin to see you soon. Its bin too long, an I'm tired of tryin' to remember how it felt to hold you in my arms. I'm comin home quik as I can. Maxime can keep up or get lef behind.

See you soon,

Love, Hagrid

"This one's going under my pillow," Ivy whispered, after reading Hagrid's latest letter. She tucked the parchment into her pocket, and turned to head up the stairs.

"Any interesting mail?" Sirius asked, looking up from the newspaper. "Thought I saw a foreign-looking owl just fly past the window."

Ivy blushed, bounding up the stairs before he caught the grin on her face and started asking questions.

"Must be from Hagrid," Harry explained. "I just got one, myself." He waved a piece of parchment at Sirius. "Says they'll meet with the giants, tomorrow. Judging from that owl, I'd say 'tomorrow' was a few days ago. Hope it went alright."

"Me too," Sirius agreed, putting the paper aside to stand to his feet. "Think I should go check on...?" He tilted his head toward where Ivy'd disappeared.

"Won't do any good," Harry replied. "It's always the same when she gets a letter from him. She shuts herself up in her room for a while, then comes down, sighs a lot, stares into space...."

"That bad, huh?"

"Worse."

"I was only thinking.... It's such a glorious day. And we're all here together. That may not happen again for a while. Especially when school starts. We really should do something special... but I can't think of -"

Harry cut him off. "We could go to Diagon Alley. I haven't gotten my book list yet for 5th year, but we could still...."

"Ivy's afraid of running into her father there, though," Sirius remembered. "I could go in dog form, but I was hoping to avoid that. It's just not the same."

"I wish we could go to Greenland," came Ivy's voice from the stairwell. "Hagrid said there are wild hippogriffs roaming 'round free there. He wanted to catch a hatchling, but Maxime wouldn't hear of it." She sat down on the top step, sighing wistfully.

"You have got it bad, Ivy," Sirius teased her. "I was thinking we'd have to go somewhere remote, but not quite that far away."

"At least you wouldn't be noticed there," she retorted with a grin. "I don't think there's anywhere we can go, really. We're fugitives. Well... at least you and I are. Harry here is completely free to do as he pleases for once."

Harry grinned, heading for the door. "Can I use the scooter then, Ivy?" he joked.

"No!" came Ivy and Sirius' simultaneous reply.

"Looks like we're stuck here, then," he returned. "But that's not such a terrible thing. I kind of enjoy it. Here we are actually being normal. No painting and re-painting the garden bench.... No weeding those stupid flower beds. No Dudley, Petunia, or Vernon. Yup," he took a seat on the couch and flung his feet over the arm. "Feels like heaven to me."

"Looks like we're stuck with The Game," Ivy agreed, descending the stairs and taking a side of the love seat.

"Oh no..." Sirius moaned. "Not that again."

"It'll be fun," she assured him.

"When are you going to get tired of that game?"

"Oh come on," Ivy said, patting the seat beside her. "It's just so... versatile. We play it one way here. Play it the other way there.... Alright Harry. You go first, but you can't say something you've used in the past four games."

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, then grinned. "I know.... Quidditch."

"Harry," Ivy whined. "I just got through saying you can't use something you've said in the past four games. You say 'Quidditch' every time."

"Well, you say 'Hagrid'. Give her a minute, Sirius. You'll see. She'll squeeze him in there somewhere."

Sirius smiled. "That's love, Harry. You love Quidditch. Ivy loves -"

"Hagrid, I know."

"I did not say 'Hagrid', and we have rules," Ivy insisted. "Besides it's Sirius's turn. What do you miss most about the magical realm?"

He crossed the room and took the seat beside Ivy. "I miss the basement at Ivy's house."

Harry sat up, swinging his legs to the floor. "But this is the Muggle version of Ivy's basement. It's practically the same, just less cobwebs."

"And telephones," Sirius reminded. "And that god-awful box over there," he pointed to the television set. "And motor cars, aeroplanes, heliocopters overhead. There's so much noise here. I don't see how they stand it."

"You're playing it wrong," Ivy murmured, watching as he grasped her wrist, his fingers tracing over the runes on the giant-sized ring Ivy wore as a bracelet. "We tell what we miss most, not what we hate most. I hate fluorescent lighting. And canned soup and brooms that were made strictly for sweeping. But I love the blue jeans Dumbledore bought me, and I think Fang is learning to like packaged kibble. The name of the game is...."

Sirius allowed her to go on, soaking in the lilt in her voice and the way her hair shone under the hated fluorescents. He glanced momentarily at Harry, struck yet again at how the boy looked achingly like his father. A sense of belonging flooded him as he sat surrounded by the ones he considered family. He basked in it, closing his eyes. Ivy and Harry watched a slow smile spread across his face, and continued their game around him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dearest Ivy Ollivander,

We regret to inform you that, after having reviewed the zoning laws in aforementioned Hogsmeade, our clients have every right in demanding their property back. Neither of the Zonkos wants to go down in history as the one who let a Non-Magical into the community. There is only one legal form of appeal, to take your case to the zoning board, and hence the people of said Hogsmeade. This would of course, bring with it the threat of publicity, which our client has informed us you desire to avoid. Please let us know how you wish to proceed. We need to know if you intend to contest this decision no later than August 31st.

Thank you for your speedy response.

Logapillar, Logapiller, Humphrey, Baggette and Bone

"We're Wizards At Real Estate Law."

Ivy crumbled parchment under her hand with a frustrated groan.

"Alright there, Ivy?" Harry asked through a mouthful of pancakes and sausage.

Ivy shook her head, throwing the letter across the table. "They're actually going to get the house back."

"How's that?" Sirius asked, flattening the letter to take a closer look.

"It's either give it back or go before the whole ruddy town. And Rita Skeeter. Or somebody else just like her."

"But you said you were going to go talk to your dad anyway," Harry reminded. "Talk to him first. Then give the Zonkos the surprise of their lives."

Ivy sighed. "You make it sound so easy. I just don't think I'm ready to face him, yet."

"You're never ready for things like this, Ivy. You just have to do it," Sirius said.

"But I don't want to."

"Me either," Harry agreed. "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia get in today. I sure don't want to leave."

"Today?" Ivy sat up and leaned across the table. "How'd time get past us so quick? I was supposed to experiment on you."

Harry smirked. "You'd better get to your homework then. Or all those times you sat close to Dudley will get us nothing."

"Us being the key word here. I think you should help me write up some sort of report or something. Sirius can help. What kinds of terrible torture did we subject Harry to over the past two weeks, and how did he respond? I think the threat of boiling oil afforded the greatest response. Spending the night in the basement only helped him bond with Fang."

Sirius looked at Ivy as though she'd lost her mind.

"Well... over the past two weeks, what have you observed?" Ivy pressed, grinning.

"I think the worst was the night I had to sleep standing up in the attic closet. Took more than a day to recover from that."

"Good one," Ivy agreed. "We'd better get to writing this down." She reached for parchment and quill.

"Wait!" Harry grabbed her arm. "Not parchment! Paper. Use paper and a pen."

"You two really are prime for the loony bin. You know that don't you?" Sirius asked.

"You won't say that when they sign Harry over to me next summer. And the summer after next. All in the name of perfecting Behavioral Modification," Ivy sighed in satisfaction. "It's just too bad I have to continue my research in the States. No Duddums next summer, Harry. How will you cope?"

"It's a hair-brained scheme," Sirius observed. "They wouldn't be as stupid as that, would they?"

Harry smirked. "That's the beauty of it, Sirius. All the while we're working so hard to out-wit them, they're thinking they're being really smart to out-wit us. To dump me on Ivy for the next few summers."

"Then Harry gets me," Ivy flashed an evil grin. "The mad scientist of Behavioral Modification. Everybody wins." She scribbled quietly for a while, stopping every now and then to chew thoughtfully on the end of her ink pen.

"Have you forgotten that if the Zonkos get the house, you'll have no place to put Harry next summer?" Sirius ventured quietly.

Ivy turned to stare at him, paling a little. "Then I may not be able to put off that visit home to Father."