𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒮𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃

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The astronomy tower was the tallest tower at Hogwarts.

A circular room with large openings along the walls, a balcony running along the circumference a few feet out. The only safeguards from almost certain death were the waist-high railings, not even solid, just thin rails… the largest of gaps one could so easily just slip through, if not just hop the railing.

The openness of the tower was… a huge safety violation, no doubt. But it did make the astronomy tower easily the most beautiful viewpoint in Hogwarts. Overlooking the grounds, the lake, the forest, the cliffs and pits that surrounded Hogwarts. The view stretched on for miles in any direction one looked. And the stars seemed to shine all that much brighter from there.

So Iris sat at the edge of the balcony, feet dangling off the edge, eyes locked on what seemed to be a void beyond the castle… the lake oddly haunting on a moonless night.

A cool breeze ran through the air, across her skin, through her hair, but Iris was not there… mentally, at least.

Which is why when a figure appeared at her side, leaning against the railing, she jolted. The movement caught the corner of her eye, causing her head to jerk and hands to grip the edge of the balcony, prepared to get up if need be.

But it was an unnecessary panic, for it was only Harry Potter. Iris relaxed instantly, her shoulders falling and her eyes right back to the void below.

Neither spoke, both intently focused on the views beyond, or no that is wrong, both completely lost to their thoughts.

One looking into the void below, hanging on the edge. Emotions unknown, no expression on her face. No anger in her body language.

The other looking up to the stars above, gripping to the rails. Anger radiated off him in waves, eyes deadly. Tension in every part of his body.

"Sirius Black was my dad's best friend, he was friends with my mum… and he betrayed them. Sold them off to Voldemort. He killed them."

Iris didn't react even a bit to Harry's cold words. Not the slightest bit of shock ran through her body, and not even the slightest flinch.

And he kept going, throwing his anger out into the still air, "I hate him… and if he comes for me again. I… I will kill him."

Silence filled the air again, Iris still not seeming to take in a word of what he was saying. But then, as another breeze rolled in, Iris took in a breath, closing her eyes as the cool air ran over her skin again.

"My dad died July 31, 1991," Harry blinked at the revelation, he looked down at the girl, "your 11th birthday. I was set to start Hogwarts that year as well… instead, my dad was murdered…."

Iris reopened her eyes, still dull as they could be, lifeless, "Over two years ago, and I still can remember that entire day so vividly… I had to listen to those people. Listen as they… as he…. I saw him. Their words, voices are engraved in my entire being… if I ever came across them again I would—" Iris stopped herself from continuing, sucking in a breath, reeling back in.

"December 18 is his birthday…" she frowned, "was his birthday. And I forgot… I… what if I am starting to forget? What if he starts fading from my mind? I… I can't forget him…." Iris clenched her jaw, her fists closing as she stopped herself once more.

This time she stopped herself for good, allowing the subject to fade as silence filled the air again.

Harry moved his gaze from Iris, returning to his stars.

"When the dementors are near, I can hear my mum and dad… the night they died. It is all I have of them, the only time I can hear their voices at all." His voice was barely a whisper.

"That boggart was the first time I had seen my father in person, in front of me since he died," she nodded as Harry glanced her way, "Granger was right. My boggart was him."

She sighed, "Just not in the way you all think. My father loved me dearly… he did his best with me. He would never have hurt me. Ever. He gave me nothing but unconditional love…. That boggart appeared as it did because of the look it had in its eyes.

"Disappointment, disgust… regret. My father died so I could live, and all I did was hide and run away. And I am still running, there are people that think I am dead because the day my father died… I ran. And am still hiding from the responsibilities that fell to me the second his heart stopped….

"He died for me, and I am nothing but a coward… he shouldn't have died that night. It should have been…."

The final word was lost in her throat, failing to come out, but it didn't need to be said. And it was better left unsaid, better pushed back and banished to the deepest parts of her brain, never to be even thought of again.

Yet another beat of silence settled between the two.

Dragging out as the pair settled back to their own minds.

Forcing a smile, Iris dryly laughed, "What a screwed up pair we make."

~~~~~~

Hogwarts was abnormally large for the number of people that really resided within the castle. It had its moments where a hall wouldn't seem large enough, and when the dorms were in much need of extra bathrooms… but with a castle so large, grounds so vast… Hogwarts, for the most part, felt empty.

And that emptiness only grew more drastic when the train departed for the Christmas holiday. Upon it, nearly all of the student body and half the staff.

Left behind were so few that Iris found herself alone in the Slytherin dormitories, but even she was rarely ever there. She was always off and about somewhere, taking full advantage of the solitude she was granted for the Holiday. Whether wandering the halls, out in the courtyard drawing, off on the grounds for a walk, or sneaking off to the forest… Iris really just used the dorms for sleeping. After all, Sally-Ann had taken her radio with her.

The solitude was Iris's friend. She had known it for so long before finding herself at Hogwarts that a few days of it was familiar, if nothing else. Not comforting, familiar. Good or bad was undecided and unimportant.

And besides, despite the emptiness of the large castle, Iris still found herself running into Harry Potter and his two friends… running into Hermione Granger, quite a bit more than she would have preferred. Because where there is one… the others are just a few steps behind.

Except for those rare moments. And one day over break, Iris did catch one of those rare moments.

The ground had been covered by a fresh coat of snow, and the sun was still hidden behind the clouds. So, filling a bag with a few much-needed supplies and having spent time by the lake collecting rocks and sticks, she set up right outside the castle and got to work.

She was halfway through rolling the bottom part when two of the infamous trio came bounding outside, Ronald Weasley grumbling about something as Harry listened.

Harry was the one to stop, his friend taking a few extra steps as he was lost in his rant. As blunt as always, Harry simply asked, "What are you doing?"

Iris looked up to him, pausing as she smiled, "Making a few snowmen, this one's name is Ivan."

Harry nodded, ignoring as Ron tried to pull him along, "I've never made a snowman."

Still smiling, Iris raised an eyebrow, glancing towards the doors, checking if the third of the group was simply just straggling behind. Finding the answer to be a no, she returned her gaze to Harry, "Want to help then?"

And so that was that, Harry getting stuck forming the heads, seeing as he was the least experienced, as Ron began on the torsos.

Together all equally focused on creating the perfect shapes, the further along they went, the more imperfectly perfect they were.

Assembly of the parts eventually left them with three snowmen, one with two heads stacked on top of one another as Harry had made an extra.

Then they moved to decoration, each getting their own; Harry stuck with the one with two heads.

Sticking on eyes, Ron finally broke the first wall to conversation, he rubbed his hands together for a moment, "How are you doing all this without gloves? My hands are about to fall off."

Glancing at Ron, Iris shrugged, but a strange glint of amusement flashed in her eyes, "I just never really get cold." Brushing it off, Iris switched the subject, "Anyways, I have seen you guys carrying around and reading books nonstop, I don't know if you got the memo, but we are on holiday."

Ron and Harry both frowned, causing Iris to drop her smile. Harry spoke, "Buckbeak is going on trial in April. Lucious Malfoy," he grew bitter at the name, "put in a complaint. We have been trying to help Hagrid build a case."

Iris hummed, taking a moment to add buttons on her snowman's torso, "He couldn't get Hagrid fired, so he is going for the poor creature, how… typical." She shifted her weight, "Draco still complains to no end constantly. Still playing out that his arm isn't the same as before."

Shaking her head, Iris turned to the two boys, "Malfoy is in with over half the Ministry. Either has them paid off or carries serious blackmail. And worst of all, no one actually cares for protecting creatures… the higher-ups would have them all killed off if it wouldn't cause riots in the public." Going to grab some sticks from her pile, she sighed, "Unless you get someone with more of an in, with more money or a bigger name than Malfoy… you can't win."

Sending them a weak smile, she added, "It is commendable that you are trying, though. And I'll see if I can remember or find any cases. And try and search out of Hippogriff cases. Any wins for any creature would be better than nothing."

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The mood dulled a bit as the three silently put the finishing touches on their individual snowmen. But coming in yet again, Ron attempted to lighten the air, "So you can read minds…."

Iris hummed, fighting away a frown, "Granger tell you?"

Ron cringed, "Yeah and it was talk of the common room that night… a few people seemed to catch it…."

Sighing Iris brushed it away. Shooting him a look, she joked, "Don't worry, Ronald, I avoid the heads of teenage boys as much as I can… I swear it kills my brain cells listening to you all."

And laughter was back. The mood light, the joys of the Holiday, and the nearing Christmas regained.

~~~~~~

Iris had a slow start to her Christmas morning. No hurry in her movements, in her actions as she grabbed a briefcase with a bow slapped on top and headed off for her morning… still dressed comfortably in an oversized shirt and blue pajama pants.

She didn't even bother to knock on the door when she barged into Remus Lupin's office, throwing the briefcase on his desk without a word as she settled into a seat.

Giving the teen before him a firm look, Remus moved aside his paperwork, pulling the briefcase his way, "What did I tell you about this? I don't need anything, Iris."

Unbothered and inattentive, Iris blankly looked around the room, shrugging, "It's Christmas. Giving presents is part of the joy."

"You hate Christmas, always have." He pulled off the bow, putting it aside as he looked over the sleek material of the case; he would admit it was nice.

Puffing her cheeks as her excuse crumbled, Iris shrugged again, "Fine then, I just got fed up watching you walk around with that shabby excuse of a case," she watched as he went to move it aside, "Also, there are some real clothes inside… robes are so… gross."

Sighing, Remus placed the briefcase back down, moving to open it as he started lecturing Iris, "I told you just like I always told everyone else. I don't need anything. But you and Leo, he was worse than you, never listen—"

Iris smiled as he finally opened the case, his eyes flittering down to look inside and his words coming to an immediate stop. A wave of emotions overtook his face as he gingerly reached inside, "Merry Christmas, Moony."

Pulling out… pictures, he looked at Iris with disbelief, "I thought these were all gone…."

He began looking through them, eyes glassy as he smiled.

Iris nodded, "We were going to be at the cabin in Norway the rest of the summer. Only there a day before…," she cleared her throat. "Putting these into a photo album was going to be mine and dad's project before I started school, wanted to surprise you on Christmas. He was going to help me write when the pictures were taken and what is happening in them.

"The surprise is three years late, and there is no album. Figured we could put them together this summer," she looked away, eyes focused on the walls of the room, "assuming you let me live with you, that is…."

Remus looked up quickly, snapping his attention to Iris as he went to speak, but he stopped, noticing how she was tense and how her gaze refused to meet his eyes.

Picking up one of the many pictures, he smiled down at it. A picture of Iris with a bow on her head, bonking a much younger Remus on the nose, "Your first Christmas…." He looked at Iris, eyes soft as he reminisced, "This was when your father… Leo… he told me that if anything were to happen to him, I was the one he wanted to be named your official guardian."

Remus laughed, "I hated him for it back then," Iris clenched her jaw, but Remus just kept smiling, "the fool wanted to put you, this perfect little baby, into the care of a monster."

Iris finally met his gaze, eyes hard as she went to say something, but Remus shook his head, "He never saw me as a monster, though. Just like you… he just saw me. And did everything he could to ensure I knew that I was so much more to him than a monster. He looked out for me, made sure I knew I always had a home with him. He was family."

Smile growing sad, he kept his gaze steady on Iris, "My mother and father are dead, Lily and James are dead, Peter dead… Sirius… well, Sirius is a traitor, and Leo is gone… you… you are my only family left…."

Clearing his throat, he grew serious, "Iris, I may not be related in blood to you in any way. And I may not think myself worthy of a guardian for you… but you will always have a home with me. Never think otherwise."

Iris smiled to herself, relaxing in her seat. A weight taken off her shoulders at the words.

Watching her a moment longer, something seemed to cross his mind. So smiling, Remus reached into a drawer and, taking out a neatly wrapped present, he gently set it in front of Iris. Returning to sifting through the pictures as he ignored the look Iris gave him.

Rolling her eyes, she unwrapped the present, eyes growing wide and heart nearly stopping as she tore away the paper to reveal a… first edition of Gone With the Wind. She lost it, "Remus Lupin! How did you—" she almost threw the book down before stopping and gently placing it down instead. "You can't afford this! Did you steal it? Holy shit, I have to pay you back for this. You are a teacher. You don't get paid enough to buy first editions!"

Remus shook his head, laughing, "Relax, Iris, it was my grandmother's. It's been kept in good condition since she bought it in the 30s."

Panic quickly switching to a glare, her rant continued, just a bit differently, "You are cruel. You knew exactly what you were doing. Ah, gave me a heart attack. Cruel, cruel man. What kind of prank was that…" Her rants went on and on, scolding the man in every way she could.

Remus still seemed to think it was hilarious.

~~~~~~

Still dressed in her pajamas, Iris walked into the Great Hall for lunch to be greeted by Dumbledore, four teachers, the caretaker Filch, and two nervous-looking first years. All sat at one long table in the middle of the room.

She had almost stayed behind to eat with Remus, but when he mentioned he needed to take his potion, she practically rushed out the door.

Rolling her eyes, Iris grumbled as she took a seat at the end of the table, furthest from a far too upbeat Dumbledore.

Moments later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all walked into the hall, looking confused as they made their way towards the table. Dumbledore, of course, was quick to expel the confusion, "Merry Christmas! As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House Tables… Sit down, sit down!"

Iris gave a rather pointed glare to the man, one of which carried over as Hermione moved to sit beside Ron, who sat beside Harry, who thankfully sat beside her. Enough space had been put between the two girls that Hermione had a chance to actually enjoy her meal without facing the anger that Iris still held.

Dumbledore started off the meal with a party trick, holding a noisemaker to Snape, who tugged at it reluctantly. And with a bang that Iris flinched at, it flew apart to reveal a large witch's hat topped with a stuffed vulture… one that vaguely matched a particular boggart form that got Neville Longbottom in quite a bit of trouble with Severus Snape.

Then they dug into their meals. Harry and Iris make a quick conversation while filling their plates.

"Why are Granger and Weasley in such sour moods?" Iris stabbed a potato, moving it to her plate.

Harry waved it off quickly, "Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, attacked Ron's rat, Scabbers."

Iris paused, "I don't know which is worse. A cat named Crookshanks or that Ronald has a pet rat."

"Ron has the rat in his pocket."

Cringing back, Iris shot the redhead a look, "Definitely the rat then."

The two shared a laugh as they settled for a second. Harry excitedly looked to Iris as he remembered something, "I got a firebolt for Christmas," Iris raised an eyebrow, prompting him to explain further. "The fastest broom there is. Hermione was acting all weird about it."

Iris's eyebrows knitted together as she hummed, considering the words. Eventually, she settled on shaking her head, "She is over worrying. But I would like to look at it if you don't mind and watch when you take it out for a ride."

Harry nodded to respond further before the doors to the Great Hall opened once more. Professor Trelawney, the divination professor, walked through the doors, dressed rather tragically in a green sequin dress.

"Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in a faraway sort of voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness. . . ."

"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair —"

A chair flew into position with a spin right between McGonagall and Snape. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been dancing around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream. Making Iris grumble as she flinched for the second time that day.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!" Iris looked around the table, confirming such for herself, suddenly shifting in her seat as she faced the superstition drilled into her head since birth.

"We'll risk it, Sybill," said Professor McGonagall impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

"Tripe, Sybill?"

Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

Iris glanced at Dumbledore at the question, then moved her eyes to Snape, who sneered.

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

Moving her eyes back to Dumbledore, Iris spoke up, "I visited him this morning, he is tired but otherwise doing alright. Went off to take a potion to deal with some of the side effects, though."

Dumbledore nodded, catching the true meaning in the words.

McGonagall seemed rather focused on Trelawney, raising her eyebrows as she dressed her colleague, "But surely you already knew that, Sybill?"

Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very stern look.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal," said Professor McGonagall snidely. Iris almost choked on her drink at that one, eyes flying to the two teachers as she intently watched.

Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware himself that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him —"

Eyes narrowing, Iris nearly cut off the Professor herself but was beat by McGonagall's dry, "Imagine that."

Sending Iris a look before could snap herself, Dumbledore cut in. "I doubt," said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger."

And then he carried on the dinner as if nothing had happened, asking one of the first years if they would like some chipolatas.

So everyone silently ate, Iris in particular zoned out. Mind everywhere but her own as she got the distant look in her eyes that seemed to come from paying extra attention to the minds of elsewhere.

Furrowing her eyebrows at one point, she absently caught Harry's attention, "There is an extra person nearby. I hear a voice I haven't before."

Harry simply shrugged, "Maybe you are getting confused by the first years?"

Iris seemed to doubt that but shook her head nonetheless, the dazed look vanishing from her dark eyes. Continuing on with her meal in peace.

Hours later, Iris, Ron, and Harry all agreed to take their leave, the two boys excited to take Harry's new broom for a ride. And Iris, for undisclosed reasons for her own, curious to see it.

As the trio rushed to stand, Trelawney stopped them, shouting out, "My dears! Which of you left their seat first? Which?"

"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry.

"I doubt it will make much difference," said Professor McGonagall coldly, "unless a mad ax-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the entrance hall."

Even Ron laughed. Professor Trelawney looked highly offended.

"Coming?" Harry said to Hermione.

"No," Hermione muttered, "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."

And so off they went. Quickly slipping Iris past the portrait hole, Sir Cadogan, the temporary guard, enjoying a Christmas party of his own and far too drunk to care about the snake entering the lion's den.

Harry went straight up to the dormitory, collected the Firebolt and a Broomstick Servicing Kit and brought them downstairs, and tried to find something to do to the Firebolt; however, as expected, with a new broom, it was already in the most perfect of condition.

Iris stared intently at the broom, hardly even noticing as McGonagall appeared in the common room. Hermione was a step behind as she walked around them, sat down, picked up the nearest book, and hid her face behind it.

Iris tensed as she turned to the Professor, who sent her a look, "Miss Blackwell, this isn't your dorm."

Standing, the girl met McGonagall's gaze, "It wasn't tampered with, Professor, not by Black. Not by anyone."

"I am aware Blackwell's are strongly attuned, but no one can know for certain Miss Blackwell. Now go back to your own common room."

Iris hesitated, glancing at Hermione, who seemed the slightest bit curious, clenching her jaw, Iris nodded, "Just… never mind." Sending a quick glance to Harry as if to say sorry, she made her leave.

Christmas just, of course, had to end on a rather dull note.