A letter from her father arrived the next morning, its sharp, curt handwriting summoning her to Hogsmeade. Ivy hesitated before leaving, knowing any meeting with him would end in frustration.

She met him at the far end of the village, near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Her father, tall and imposing, wasted no time with pleasantries.

“You’ve been a disgrace to this family,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the chilly air. “First, you bring shame by associating with that blood traitor Diggory, and now I hear rumors of you aligning with Riddle? Are you trying to tarnish our legacy?”

Ivy clenched her fists. “Tarnish your legacy? You mean the legacy where you control everyone around you? Where you care more about appearances than your own daughter?”

Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play the victim. You’ve always been reckless, Ivy. Unfit to carry the Lovegood name. Your mother would be—”

“Don’t you dare bring her up!” Ivy shouted, her voice cracking.

Her father took a menacing step forward. “You think you can talk to me like that?”

Before she could react, Tom appeared out of the shadows, his wand pointed directly at her father’s chest. “Take another step, and I’ll ensure it’s your last,” he said, his voice deadly calm.

Her father froze, his face paling. “This is your protector? A murderer? You’ve sunk lower than I thought.”

“Leave,” Tom ordered, his wand unwavering. “Now.”

Her father sneered but retreated, his words ringing in the cold air: “You’ll regret this, Ivy.”

Once he was gone, Ivy turned on Tom, her anger bubbling over. “I didn’t ask for your help!”

Tom’s expression hardened. “No, but you needed it. Or were you planning to duel your own father?”

“I can take care of myself,” she snapped. “I don’t need you swooping in like some dark knight.”

Tom’s jaw clenched. “Then maybe next time I won’t bother.”

He disappeared into the forest, leaving Ivy fuming.