𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐹𝒾𝒻𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃

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The days following Halloween had been… tiring, to say the least.

The school was first thrown into a constant hum of chatter as everyone threw themselves into talk of the murderer Sirius Black. Theories of how he ended up inside the castle. From conspiring with dementors to turning into a flowering shrub, just about everything had been spoken into the tense air of the Hogwarts Castle.

The Gryffindor portrait had been switched from the Fat Lady to an extravagant knight named Sir Cadogan and his fat grey pony. Iris had met him once on one of her many walks through the castle, and she was very content with the fact that it was not Slytherin's entrance dealing with any sort of changes.

Harry Potter was experiencing the worst of it all; after all, Harry was the most obvious target, so he had to be escorted all about the castle. The teachers watched him like hawks. And if it wasn't a teacher, it was the oldest Weasley that was still in school, Percy Weasley. Despite their mended relationship… Iris wasn’t ever too keen to hang around the boy long. Not with so many authority figures around.

And almost poetically, the weather had taken quite a turn. The wind brought in the clouds quickly, and despite the near-constant howling of the wind, the clouds still filled the sky. Grey and dark. The rain was on and off. But when it was on, it hit hard.

~~~~~~

The sky flashed white as Iris began tapping slowly on the table.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Thunder steadily rumbled through the castle.

Iris was locked onto the window as she and Theodore sat in the back of the DADA room. They arrived early, or rather, Theodore arrived early, and Iris just followed. She had been on edge all morning. Moody and dazed. The air around her was thick, suffocating. Her tone when she spoke all-powerful. Her presence demanding.

People seemed to learn their lesson after the first few moods Iris went through; it was always easiest to just allow her to exist in whatever way she pleased. No comments or questions from anyone else.

The sky flashed again, and on cue, Iris began tapping.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Thunder cracked, almost seeming to move the castle.

The door burst open, and in walked Severus Snape. His robes billowed behind him as he strutted to the front, "Professor Lupin is feeling too sick to teach today. I will be your teacher until he feels fit to return."

Iris lazily shifted her attention to the man as he took the spot behind the desk. Her eyes narrowed as he began rummaging through the papers and drawers. Speaking up, her voice cut into the silence of the room, "Hinkypunks. We are supposed to be starting Hinkypunks."

Snape's black, cold eyes darted to the girl; straightening, he addressed her, "And in all your infinite knowledge do you know where Professor Lupin leaves his lesson plans."

Iris rose an eyebrow, "Well, seeing as we have for the most part been following the third year standard curriculum as set by your Ministry, you could probably open the book on that desk to the marked page and probably find the word Hinkypunk somewhere on said page."

Snape's eyes narrowed, "For the most part does not inspire confidence. I was there to see that your first lesson was Boggarts, which," he glanced over the Table of Context of the book, "Is after Hinkypunks. Clearly, you weren't following any sort of plan."

Iris simply rolled her eyes, returning her gaze to the window as Hermione Granger attempted to reason with the man.

The sky flashed yet again, and so went Iris.

Tap.

Tap.

Thunder rattled the room.

Harry Potter was ten minutes late. And was halfway through apologizing to Professor Lupin before he realized that Professor Snape was behind the desk.

Feeling rather blunt, Harry could only blink as he questioned, "Where is Professor Lupin?"

And so went it all again.

Lupin is sick.

He didn't leave any notes.

But sir, we are just about to start—

Lupin lacks organization.

On and on it went. Perfectly impossible to reason with the man and, therefore, positively pointless to care.

The sky flashed again, and Iris began her tapping in turn.

Ta—

"—werewolves."

Iris and Theodore shot their attention to their professor. One growing cold and dangerous, eyes narrowed as they held onto the man. The other… shocked, eyes bouncing between the professor and his table companion for a moment.

Hermione Granger tried once more to reason with the man, but again, it was all for nothing when she ended up interrupted.

"Miss Granger," said Snape, his voice calm, completely sure of what he wanted to do, "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." He glanced around again. "All of you! Now!"

Iris clenched her jaw. The class did as told. And her eyes remained firmly locked on Snape as Theodore glanced over the page. His shock faded as he looked at a picture, but his curiosity remained as he noticed how Iris' cold demeanor had yet to fade. Eyebrows furrowed, Theodore started reading.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.

The class was silent, this lesson already a stark contrast to the ones with Lupin. The air was too tense, the professor far from encouraging. How one would feel comfortable enough to participate in a lesson such as this was beyond understanding. And Hermione Granger showed yet again that nothing could deter her from shining in the classroom.

Snape ignored the girl's waving arm, "Anyone?" His smile was twisted. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between —"

The frustration was beginning to build as Parvati suddenly cut in, "We told you, we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on —"

"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are. . . ."

Iris scoffed lightly at that one, her eyes rolling at the astounding levels of pettiness coming from a grown man.

"Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways "The snout of the werewolf —"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione immediately lowered her hand, face going red as she looked to the floor, and tears filled her eyes.

The comment was a slap to the face that everyone felt. And a comment far out of line by the way everyone reacted. As everyone had called Hermione a know it all at least once in passing conversations, yet they all grew cold. As Theodore Nott had made no secret of his annoyance of the way she always had to be heard, and yet even he cringed back. As Iris Blackwell had not once had a positive interaction with the girl, and even she had to clench a fist at the words.

And the most visceral reaction came from a boy who almost had no right to go to her defense, based on the way he threw out the know it all line at least twice a day. Ronald Weasley didn't hold back from snapping back, "You asked us a question, and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

A step too far… the class held its breath as Snape advanced on Ron.

"Detention, Weasley," Snape said with a sick sort of joy in his tone, his face very close to Ron's. "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

The rest of the lesson was silent. The only sound is the turning of pages and scratches of quills on parchment. Even Iris had taken to actually do the assigned work. However, oddly she hadn't opened the textbook and instead seemed to write just from memory.

Snape had jumped on her for it at first, but he was met with a cold glare and a colder voice, "We both know that I can write better notes than anyone else will get from the biased words of a man that died a hundred years ago."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Seems even Snape had the sense to drop it there. And so he simply returned to his slow walk through the desks. Back and forth as he read over and criticized essays that were left on the desk.

"Very poorly explained… That is incorrect, the kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia… Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three.…."

When the bell rang, at last, Iris was the first up and out. Her movements were so quick that the last words she heard were the homework, "You will each write an essay, to be handed into me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves…."

The door slammed behind her, cutting off anything else Snape had to say.

~~~~~~

Thunder shook the castle as Iris walked through the Great Hall doors the next morning for breakfast. Theodore veered off to head towards his usual seat while Iris made a beeline alongside the Gryffindor table. A slight bounce in her step and a playful glint in her eyes.

Pushing herself into the seat between Harry Potter and Oliver Wood, Iris grabbed a piece of toast while the Gryffindor Quidditch team all darted their attention to the unexpected visitor. Her eyes locked onto the Weasley twins, "Do me a favor and try not to bloody up Diggory too much, yeah? He's all I have to look forward to seeing on my way to Binns class."

The three other girls, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, all shared a look and giggled. In contrast, one of the Weasley twins stabbed his waffle, unamused with the attention Diggory seemed to pull in.

To Iris's right, Oliver Wood muttered under his breath, "Wouldn't have to worry about that if your team didn't pull out."

Iris waved him off, "Not my team. Take it up with Flint. I'm, for one, still shocked that the game is still going in this weather. Quidditch is so strange."

Cutting off Wood before we could even begin to argue, Iris got up, patting Harry on the shoulder and giving a quick, "Try not to die."

Harry muttered under his breath, unheard by his teammates but surprisingly, or maybe rather unsurprisingly, caught by Iris as she began walking away, a smirk upon her lips. One that quickly fell as a blur stumbled into her path.

Blinking as she came to an immediate stop and narrowly escaped being hit, Iris took in the boy before her…, and the smirk was back in a second. Watching as he sent a glare to his friends, Iris took a moment to allow her eyes to glance over the boy… Cedric Diggory, easily the most attractive boy to walk the halls of Hogwarts.

Tall, strong arms, dark hair, bright eyes… or as the roommates would put it... Iris's type. Something she found herself agreeing with when she took a trip down memory lane of all the boys and men that had ever caught her eye. An argument did instill between the roommates over the meaning of bright eyes... no agreements had been made on that front.

Cedric flashed Iris a sheepish smile as he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, "Sorry about that, I told them…" he found himself fading off as he locked eyes with Iris. Her head tilted as she smirked up at him.

Raising an eyebrow as he quieted, Iris flashed her teeth at him with a smile, "Told them…to push you into the path of the pretty girl? Make it seem like an accident?"

Still at what seemed to be a loss for words, the small "yeah" left his lips before he could even realize it was happening. He jerked back to attention, immediately shouting, "No," as Iris laughed.

Cutting in before he could try and explain away whatever that was, Iris straightened her posture, "Don't mind that. I think the more important discussion at hand is how clumsy you are. Should you be flying in this weather?" Again, she smiled at him, "Would hate to see such a pretty face all bloodied up."

Cedric dropped the hand from his neck, a small boyish smile forming on his lips, "Well, I would hate to disappoint. I promise I will keep this pretty face intact."

Iris hummed, head tilting again as she teased at the boy, "Just for me?"

He laughed, eyes darting away briefly before returning to Iris, "Yeah... for you."

A moment. That is what took place between the two. Only a second or so. But an intense moment nonetheless. An intense stare off as they both smiled at one another, or maybe themselves, or perhaps the situation. A moment cut off rather quickly by a whistle from who cares where.

Taking a step back, Iris nodded, "Better stay true to that promise Diggory," she turned away, flashing another smile over her shoulder as she walked off, "and best of luck today."

Blinking, Cedric called out, "See you at the game?"

She spun around, "In this weather? Hell no!" and then turned away from the boy for the last time, focusing on making it to her own breakfast.

Cedric smiled after her before being pulled in by his friends, surrounded by encouragement and questions.

And Iris... she found herself bombarded by questions from all sides as she took her seat, the hounding of her roommates unheard as she and Cedric shared one last smile from across the hall.

~~~~~~

Thunder rattled the castle as Iris led herself deeper and deeper into the maze of the library. Losing herself in rows of books. Her only guide the glow of the candles. Their dance frantic from the chaos of the storm outside.

She brushed her fingers over the spines and hummed a tune, dazed as she continued her journey.

Leaving the maze of shelves, Iris found her destination, a table tucked away in the back, a window that overlooked the grounds behind it. The Quidditch pitch, lively as could be as the game commenced, sat in the distance, fading in and out of existence as the rain fluctuated.

"You know, you think in words." Theodore jumped, narrowing his eyes into a glare as he turned his attention to Iris, "Just words, it is obnoxious as hell most of the time, but when you are reading, it can be quite nice. It is like being told a story, allows me to still make my own interpretations, my own pictures."

Theodore's glare faded as he considered her words, "People think in pictures?"

Iris shrugged as she sat down, "Some only think in images of sorts, some in words, others have both. You only have an inner voice, and with how much you think… it's almost as if you are talking nonstop. I think it's why you are so impossible not to listen to."

He nodded, and… smirked, "Look at that, Blackwell, we are the same. Neither of us ever shuts up. Just mine only bothers you."

"So, are you going to stop yelling at me for being in your head?" Iris leaned back, rifling through her bag and pulling out her notebook and a pencil.

Rolling his eyes, he continued with his book, "Just do better at staying out. I don't need everything known to you."

Smiling to herself, Iris began at her sketching, confident and quick strokes as she allowed her pencil to fly across the paper, "Have a secret crush to hide or something?"

"No, but while on the topic, Diggory?" He rose an eyebrow in question.

Iris hummed, a smile coming to her lips, "Tall, strong arms, dark hair, bright eyes… how could I not flirt when he came stumbling into me."

"Because he is a Diggory." He turned his page because it was casual as if it was just a fact of life that what he said was just as obvious as breathing.

Iris disagreed, her eyebrows furrowed, but she still focused on her drawing, her effortless lines, "And what does that mean, Theodore?"

Theodore looked up, "They are blood traitors." Again so easy, so obvious to him.

Iris looked up, "I am as well, am I not?" She laughed a bit, a dry laugh, barely one.

"Sure, but it's different for you. Diggory's barely have a family name. Amos has been in Magical Creature Regulations his whole career and has yet to move up. His wife Eleanor gave up a match with an Avery to marry the fool," he paused as Iris sat straighter, her full attention shifting to Theodore, but he continued. "You, on the other hand, are a Blackwell. No one else even comes close to a Blackwell."

Iris tilted her head, "But I am still a blood traitor. I still associate rather closely with the no-maj."

Theodore noticed it. You spend enough time with anyone, and you start to notice things. You start to notice tells. The way she seemed to grow in her seat. The way her tone grew colder. The way her jaw clenched. Iris had tells. Many tells. And Theodore had begun to notice them.

His book lowered as lightning flashed, "But you are a Blackwell."

She waited, tapping her index finger in a slow succession…

Tap.

Allowing every second to drag…

Tap.

Until…

Tap.

The thunder, the rumble of the castle.

"So just because my name holds more prestige, more… power," her eyes narrowed, her eyes dark as they stayed locked onto Theodore. "It allows you to overlook my respect for no-maj. Because the other elites," a sharp laugh left her lips as the word flew out, "need us to scramble their own way up the ladder."

She looked out the window, her next words bitter, cold, "Can't be a blood traitor if you are the top of the social hierarchy, of course."

Theodore shrugged, completely disregarding Iris's mood, returning to his book, "Blackwell's can't be blood traitors. You are the only name in the history of the world that could get away with marrying a mudblood," he rolled his eyes, "even a muggle and still be invited to a Malfoy ball."

The rain picked up outside.

Iris sat there. Posture straight as could be. Clenched jaw and fists. Dark, narrowed eyes. Tense, and… angry… yeah, anger. And yet there sat Theodore, content as ever. Turning to the next page.

"Muggle-Born," a single phrase. Less than a second to say. One word, or maybe rather two, connected to make one. Nonetheless, it was a word that meant much more at that moment than it had a right to have.

The tension rose quickly. Jolting into the empty space at that table, the second Iris's cold, her deathly calm but so incredibly cold voice spoke that word.

Theodore froze… after-all Iris was a Blackwell. And when a Blackwell speaks like that… you freeze.

But Iris waited, gaze firmly locked on Theodore Nott as he eventually broke free of that invisible hold, and… rolled his eyes and returned to his book. Not even taking a moment to consider the meaning in the word.

Tension that Theodore was so content on just ignoring. His ability to stay out of the conflict was impressive but so wrong…

Iris's head darted back towards the window, eyes wide, all tension in the room dissipating as it instead filled with… panic.

She gathered her things quickly and left even quicker.

All Theodore Nott did was roll his eyes before returning to his own business. Not even taking a second to acknowledge how he may have just been saved by whatever pulled her away.

~~~~~~

“He fell.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, a demand.

A demand from none other than Iris Blackwell as she strode towards the occupied hospital bed. Pushing through the crowd that surrounded, unsurprisingly to all that knew him… Harry Potter. The walking danger magnet.

Lavender Brown was the one to answer Iris’s demand, “Dementors came on the field—”

Seamus Finnegan cut, a strong accent clear, “Dumbledore is furious, sent them off—”

Another girl cut in, one of the Patil twins, “Dumbledore slowed his fall though—”

More people, voices kept cutting in, talking over each other, all talking nonsense. Confusing Iris. Irritating Iris. Two things you apparently shouldn’t do while Harry Potter lays on a hospital bed.

“Enough!” She paused, looking around as everyone froze, “Now back off so Madam Pomfrey can attend to him.”

Begrudgingly everyone took a few steps back, the only exceptions being Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, who occupied one side of the bed. A path cleared as Pomfrey came out of her office, rushing towards Harry, a tray in hand with a potion and water.

Iris watched from the foot of the bed, hands sat on the rails, “Will he be fine?”

Hermione’s eyes locked onto Iris as Pomfrey absently answered the question, “Oh yes, he will be fine, just fainted. Should wake up in the next few minutes.” Her attention shifted to the crowd around the bed, “And given the lack of severity here, and the noise beginning to affect my resting patients, everyone needs to leave.”

Protest began to arise, but the firm lady shook her head, “Unless you are named Weasley or Granger, I want you out. No exceptions.”

Iris gave a curt nod, eyes dragging over Hermione Granger, who still just watched as she turned to make her leave. Satisfied that Harry Potter would live to see another day.

Everyone else followed her lead, all whispering and forming the words that would be spread throughout the entire school.

But before Iris could even make it out the door, she was summoned back, “Wait, Iris!”

Rolling her eyes at the voice but turning around anyways, Iris came face to face with Hermione Granger. Not even bothering to say anything, she waited. Her green eyes inattentive as she awaited what was to come.

Hermione hesitated, waiting for an ok to speak, but eventually, she realized that an ok would never come, “How—

“Actually, no,” Iris stood taller, fixing her bag on her shoulder, glaring at the girl before her, “I have told you not to dig, to just leave me alone. The way that you still just crawl back to disrespect my one ask of you is crazy.”

Iris leaned in closer, an action that brought a frown to Hermione’s face, but she did stand her ground, “I respect how smart you are, Granger, how you question things, are always looking to learn more, solve mysteries. But you need to learn how to respect boundaries. How to respect people.

“Because I am a person Granger. Not some puzzle to search for all the missing pieces for and put together the ‘Great Mystery of Iris Blackwell.’ No. I am a person.” She stood straight again, stepping back, “Leave me be. It is all I ask.”

And then she turned and left. Leaving Hermione Granger with words that would most definitely go ignored, as changes to a character, to how people act... Those changes don’t happen from a simple scolding… it would take much more to get Hermione Granger to recognize what she was doing. And if she wasn’t so dead set on solving the case of Iris Blackwell, maybe she would have had the sense to stop.