𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝑒𝓃

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"Theodore Nott!" A sharp voice cut into the crowd. Everyone looked back to watch as Iris Blackwell hurried down the stairs, black boots barely touching the steps and ponytail already becoming loose.

... Well, all but one watched.

Theodore Nott leaned against the wall beside the Potion's door, shoulder, and head, holding his body. His head stuffed into a book and back facing the calling girl.

Despite the crowd, the rushing teen easily spotted her companion and quickly made her way over. Popping her head over his shoulder, Iris scanned the book in his hands. "Hamlet? You leave me for Hamlet. No, you left me for Shakespeare." Her green eyes settled into a glare as she continued to look into the book.

The brunette sighed and slammed his book shut, "So distracting." He turned to face the girl that had glued herself to his side on day one. Eyes bored as always, Theodore met Iris's sharp gaze, "Can't you follow anyone else around.”

Feigning a hurt look, Iris lifted a hand to her heart, "Ah, did you hear that? That was the sound of my heart breaking. I thought we had something Nott; I don't know how I will go on.”

Theodore rolled his eyes at the girl, refusing to take the bait; he turned back away and reopened his book.

Smile returning, Iris leaned her back against the wall, "So anyways, I've been thinking…"

The other Slytherins had already carried on with their lives, used to the two teens and their odd relationship. The rest of the school was still growing accustomed to it all. Which, to be fair, was quite a bit to get used to.

Iris had shown a lack of care for rules within the first few days; her first strike had been dumping the uniforms skirt and switching to jeans. Teachers and prefects attempted to punish her, but detentions brought only a smirk and comment, and house points meant nothing to the girl. From wandering the castle at night to sleeping in class, many could only show a form of respect for how much she wore down the teachers. It came at a shock, though; no one had expected that the newcomer who radiated nothing but grace on that first night would turn out to be the face of trouble.

And, of course, she only continued to do the unexpected. Being placed in Slytherin was followed by the ideas of a blood purist. Quickly those were crushed, the talk of her growing up in the muggle world spreading like fire. The outburst at lunch told the school she was to be feared, yet two days later, she was back to joking around and being the distant newcomer that was finding her stride. The uncaring attitude with class only pointed in the direction of low grades, and yet when McGonagall challenged her for not listening, Iris didn't hesitate even once in proving herself academically.

All anyone was sure about when it came to Iris Blackwell is that she was a constant stream of questions.

The most relevant being her attachment to Theodore Nott.

He was always the keep to himself type, even tending to distance himself from the Malfoy gang. He is the son of a blood purist, a Slytherin through and through, and just holds a general distaste for everyone. The girl who couldn't seem to give the boy a break should have hated him.

For Iris was a blood traitor. She respected her roommates, scoffed at the remarks of Malfoy, and took no shit from people in her life. He should have chased her off, or at the very least, she should have decided her company was better spent with her roommates.

And yet, there she was, rambling about the portrayal of werewolves in movies while Theodore Nott glared into his book. Clearly uninterested and clearly wishing to be anywhere else. Why Iris Blackwell had picked such a one-sided friendship was beyond the understanding of many.

…

The opening of the Potions door seemed to come at the relief of the boy, seeing as he immediately strode inside. Leaving behind his unwanted shadow.

Theodore sat at a back table and was digging around in his bag when Iris entered the room. Glancing around the dark space, she grimaced before turning to make her way towards Theodore. However, Iris only made it two steps before a voice called from behind.

Iris turned to meet the grey eyes of Sally-Ann Perks. The girl had a wide grin and radiated mischief, "Hey, Iris, would you sit with me.”

Face still, Iris simply tilted her head and shrugged, "Sure, Nott could use a break from me anyways." Sitting down, she quickly took out her notebook and pen, zoning out.

Smile somehow growing wider, Sally took the empty seat and called out to someone else, "Jane." The blonde raised an eyebrow as she looked at the caller. "How about you sit with Valeria." Sally-Ann's head tilted towards the table behind her and Iris, where Valeria had situated herself.

Jane Yaxley furrowed her eyebrows for a moment before glancing at where Iris was sat. Smiling, the blonde shook her head, "You two are so mean to her." Despite this, however, she moved to take the seat next to Valeria.

The three girls spoke between themselves, only pausing when a flustered Tracey walked into the room; luckily, the Professor hadn't arrived just yet. All three eyed her, failing to hide their smirks.

The girl lowered her head, her brunette hair falling and creating a defensive wall from any stares. Her blue eyes ran across the room until she spotted the giggling figures of her two roommates. Horror filled her eyes as she first looked to Valeria's right, and as her eyes trailed to the left of Sally-Ann, any hope was gone.

Her eyes desperately roamed the room, deliberately skipping over a particular back table. Coming up short, she locked eyes with her friends once more, silently pleading from where she stood frozen at the door. However, the girls just giggled more, Sally-Ann even tilting her head in the direction of the last seat.

The fun of the moment was cut short by the arrival of the Professor, "Miss. Davis, must someone escort you to your seat, or are you not entirely incompetent.”

Head still down, Tracey now dropped her eyes and muttered, "Sorry, Professor Snape," before rushing off to her seat.

The interaction had caught everyone's attention, including Iris, who, as watching Tracey walk towards Theodore Nott, caught sight of Valeria's still ever-present grin. Glancing between a red-faced Tracey and the uninterested boy she approached, Iris's eyes grew bright as something clicked inside her head.

Brushing away the interaction, Iris carried her eyes toward her teacher. Severus Snape had a particular reputation that was known by all. He was a nasty man who showed favoritism for his own house, Slytherin, and prejudices against the Gryffindors. A majority of the school despised his class.

And based on the first introductions alone, he fit the role as the villain many made him out to be. His hair, a greasy black and shoulder-length, curtained around his face. His sharp eyes were near black, making it difficult to discern the pupil from the iris. To top it all off, he wore flowing black robes.

As he spoke, one could see yellow, uneven teeth hiding behind his curled lips. His sallow skin adding another mark to the villain checklist.

And to finish it off for the time being, Professor Snape's voice was low, cold, and drawling.

Yes, it was as if he was trying to be the villain.

He skipped the first-day speech and instead just started the class with a potion, a shrinking solution. Iris, being new, was Professor Snape's first victim of the day. His approaching figure pushed Sally-Ann off toward the cupboards containing ingredients, the pale girl avoiding being in direct contact with her teacher.

The man stood hauntingly over the teen who sat, skimming over her potions book. "Miss Blackwell, I will grant a warning only once. I expect to see you in uniform during class hours from now on." A few watched with bated breath, waiting to see how the girl who never had backed down from a teacher would act.

Iris hummed, a few more eyes catching the interaction. Still skimming the book, she didn't even spare the Professor a glance, "I am wearing the robes and white button up top, nowhere does it say jeans are forbidden.”

More eyes moved to the pair as the man's eyes grew colder, "The tie is a mandatory piece of the uniform, Miss Blackwell.”

This time Iris looked up, face scrunched in a fake question, "Is it?" Another hum emitted from the teen, "Well, I donated mine to Mr. Malfoy when his arm was gushing blood, you know as a good peer would." She ended her sentence with a smile at her teacher before looking back towards her book.

The room lapsed into a heartbeat of silence before Iris looked back up with another question, "Was that all? I kinda have to focus on the work you want finished by the end of class. If you wanted to talk, should have picked a less time-consuming potion, I'm afraid." A few eyebrows raised, and smiles exchanged.

Professor Snape wasn't as impressed as he practically floated towards his next victim. His cold voice called out, "One warning Blackwell. I expect a new tie by tomorrow. Someone with your money and social status should manage.”

Iris smirked down at her book, "Of course.”

Sally sat back down only a second later, dropping her ingredients on the table, "You are going to be the first Slytherin Snape takes points from.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Iris sent her table mate a mischievous smile, "Better get working on the trophy then.”

~~~~~~

The first half of the double class was uneventful. Both Iris and Sally-Ann proved competent at potions so were able to quietly converse. While the two were still tense with one another, Sally-Ann was the bravest of the roommates. So when forced to make polite conversation it came almost naturally to the two girls.

Valeria was discreetly doing her charms homework as she allowed her potion to sit while Jane occasionally called out a name to Sally-Ann. Jane's blue eyes also did happen to always lock onto her table partner whenever Valeria did a step with the potion, checking if everything was going well. She didn’t quite seem to know what going well really looked like though

Theodore Nott and Tracey had lapsed into a silence, but neither seemed awkward about it. Both reveled in the quiet; however, Tracey's fair skin had failed to lose the red tint and every now and then her eyes wandered to the boy. Theodore was either ignorant or uncaring because his attention was either on his ingredients or his book. Occasionally Tracey asked a question pertaining to a step and Theodore would absently answer in his normal bored tone.

Professor Snape had taken to the Gryffindor students' tables. He was constantly giving unhelpful quips and seemed to search for any reason to make a comment. Particularly about Harry Potter and a nervous boy named Neville Longbottom. Iris had spent quite a bit of time watching the teacher interact with his least favorite group of students. Her eyes growing darker with each comment and more and more blue flaring out.

But still, Iris remained silent and the class uneventful.

Then Draco Malfoy decided to show up.

Swaggering in with his arm in a sling, the blonde held himself as if he had just returned from battle.

Iris heard a scoff from beside her as Malfoy joined his usual group, "And in comes Parkinson, could she just spare us of the desperation just once." Sally-Ann cringed back as aforementioned Pansy Parkinson, a rather hard-faced girl, threw herself onto Malfoy's good arm.

From behind, Jane quipped in a rather high pitched tone, "Oh but Sally, he nearly died. How would she have ever gone on without her precious Draco-poo," Jane’s tone dropped significantly as she shifted her face to a glare, "Just be grateful you don't share a room with her, she never shuts up.”

Valeria looked up from her work, a smirk growing onto her face as she looked at the back of Sally-Ann's head, "Sure you aren't just wishing it was you hanging off Malfoy's arm Ann?" That one caught Iris's attention as she raised an eyebrow, looking to the now mortified teen.

Huffing, Sally-Ann quickly went on the defense, "All I said was that his new hair cut made him look more pleasant. But if we are on the subject of love, how about I turn this one back on you Val.”

Valeria's smirk dropped immediately, her eyes flashing as she shifted in her seat, "You wouldn’t."

Now Sally-Ann's turn to smirk, the two girls entered into a staring contest. The last words between them being Sally-Ann's cold, “Bet."

Iris simply shook her head in amusement, her attention drifting to the tables of a certain group.

Malfoy had set up as close to the famed Harry Potter as he could manage. And the blond had wasted no time in taking full advantage of Snape's favoritisms and his oh so dramatic injury. Having complained about not being able to cut up the daisy roots or skin the shrivelfig, the tasks were instead handed off to Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

Free of tasks, Malfoy bid his new found free time by attempting to get under the skins of the aforementioned boys, this time by hitting a clear soft spot…

Hagrid.

The new teacher that would most definitely be facing some form of legal trouble for the injury caused to the Malfoy; his father apparently furious.

But Iris didn't focus on Malfoy for long, her attention quickly diverted to a much greater problem…

Neville Longbottom hadn't proved to be all that extraordinary of a wizard. He was a nervous boy at all times, an easy target for all sorts of teasing and bullying. And an especially easy target for the renowned Professor Snape.

This is why Snape currently stood over a potion that should have been a bright acid green. A potion that presently is…

"Orange, Longbottom," said Snape, ladling some up and allowing it to splash back into the cauldron so that everyone could see. "Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom.”

Iris clenched her jaw as she straightened in her seat, eyes scanning over the boy who was trembling and nearly in tears.

Another voice butting in came to surprise Iris, making the teen blink as Hermione Granger spoke, "Please, sir, please. I could help Neville put it right—"

The teen's attempted heroic act was cut short by Snape, allowing Iris to take a breath and relax as his cold voice shut down Granger, "I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger." The man paused for effect but was fully intent on continuing seeing as his mouth was just opening when yet another voice filled the quiet classroom.

"You know my old teacher always said the first step to a student learning is the correct environment. Brilliant man he was, always had our lessons in the sunroom.”

The Professor's sharp eyes shifted to the table seating Sally-Ann and the speaker. "Blackwell, conversations should not be heard from the other side of the room.”

Iris continued to drop items into her potion, ignoring the man. "The second step was treating your students with respect. He was patient, never yelled, never made me feel inferior, no matter how many mistakes I made." She looked up to meet her Professor's eyes, "You know something tells me you could learn a thing or two from him, Snape.”

One could hear a pin drop as the class froze, no one even daring to blink.

Snape's black as coal eyes bore into the teen, "Among the many lessons one from your world is taught as a child, the most important is respect. You seem to be out of practice. From now on, it will be sir whenever you address me.”

Iris hummed, "Yes, respect was one of the many lessons I had to endure as a child, but you seem to have forgotten our stance on respect." Iris tilted her head, smirk dancing across her lips, "Respect isn't to be given to anyone undeserving of it, or just to simplify it a bit.

"Assholes," Iris raised an eyebrow, "You know, like you.”

One could suffocate in the tension that filled the room. The silence following Iris's words, deafening.

Voice steady as always, Snape drawled out his following words, "Ten points from Slytherin.”

Iris slapped her desk dramatically, making the entire class jump. The largest smile anyone had seen from the girl spread across her face, "Shit, look at that. That makes me the first, right?" she glanced at Sally-Ann, who just grimaced, "The first Slytherin Snape takes points from.”

The Professor's eyes flamed as he upped his punishment, "Detention on Saturday.”

Iris's entire demeanor changed from excitement and returned to calm once more, "Ah, you see, McGonagall has already booked my Saturday. She isn't taking well to me sleeping in class.”

The man's nose flared as he sneered, "I will be talking to the Headmaster.”

Eyes flashing with a dangerous shine, she called back, "Oh please do, I'd love to have a conversation with good-ole Dumbledore about how much of a bully Snivellus is," her voice dragged out the newfound nickname.

And the rage in the shout that followed meant that it did the trick, “Out!"

Smirk present, Iris simply grabbed her bag, leaving with one last word, “Gladly."

~~~~~~

The headmaster's office was nothing special.

Just a circular room with a large desk, a few too many windows and a disappointingly small amount of books.

Of course there were the odd trinkets, the animate hat from the first night feast, and an abundance of moving portraits of past Headmasters.

For the office of a wizarding school's Headmaster, it was overwhelmingly boring.

And so Iris simply sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Robe dropped over the back of the chair. Fingers tapping the arm of the chair, legs crossed, and posture perfect yet stiff. There she sat, eyes locked onto the portrait of the man she awaited.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

His name was just as odd as he was. He was tall, thin, and very old if his near white hair meant anything. Both his beard and hair were long enough to be tucked into his belt. He dressed in long robes and clocks, typically of the most mystical colors. His favorite being those of purples. He often wore high-heeled, buckled boots. And always had a pair of half moon glasses sitting atop his crooked nose. His twinkling blue eyes always seeming to be looking over them instead of through.

He was certainly living up to the look of the wise old wizard. The one a child could hear about in old children's stories. One that could be trusted with anything.

So why did Iris seem at her coldest while looking up at that portrait? Why did the face of that wise old wizard, earn the glare of the darkest the teen's eyes had ever been?

Why is that when the man suddenly appeared from the side, Iris couldn't even give the courtesy of a glance?

Albus Dumbledore hadn't even been given a chance to speak before Iris began, the calm of her tone heightening the energy that surrounded her, "You aren't a fool, so what possible explanation is there for keeping Severus Snape as a teacher.”

That never ending smile sat on Dumbledore’s lips, his eyes as irritatingly bright as ever, “Severus served The Order well during the war, and he continues to be among the most loyal of men I know—”

“Because of Lily,” Iris’s glare shifted over to the man, “He only did any of it for Lily, if it wasn’t for that prophecy you so protect in your mind, he would have never have switched sides.”

As Iris looked away and to the desk in front of her, the smile on Dumbledore's lips faded. His eyes blank as he studied the young girl, “Nonetheless, Severus still proves useful. He does act as a watchful eye over Harry, saved him in Harry’s first year from a Quidditch accident.”

Gaze locked onto the morning paper atop the desk Iris bitterly said, “Yeah good-ole Snape. Saving students since 1991, only to turn around and inflict trauma on the easy pickings.”

Dumbledore, flitted around his office for a moment as silence settled into the room. Iris’s eyes still glued onto the paper, the image of a man on the front page.

The picture was animated just as most in this world seem to be. It depicted a black and white photo of what appeared to be a prisoner, the caption “Black Still At Large," confirming such. Black, or Sirius Black, was what one could describe as crazy in appearance alone. Long, unkempt black hair, anger in his eyes, screaming into the world. Jailed in a prison called Azkaban for murder of 12 muggles and a wizard named Petter Pettigrew 12 years ago. Escaped.

Iris’s glare slowly left the longer she stared at the picture. And eventually she finally spoke, a cold in her voice that had been unheard, “12 years in that place and no trial, he didn’t even get a chance. And now the dementor's are after him, surely intending to preform the kiss. Fudge knows how mishandled that case was.”

“Perhaps, Cornelius does not wish for a repeat in the future once Black is caught,” Dumbledore stated, a certain look in his eyes that showed not even he believed those words.

Iris rolled her eyes, standing as she did so. Grabbing her discarded robes the girl began to make her leave, “If either of us could believe that… you wouldn’t be preparing for yet another meeting with the incompetent fool.”

~~~~~~

If you had asked Iris exactly where in the castle she was, she would have absolutely no answer. The castle was a maze unlike any other… she typically just walked around when alone… hoping for the best with every step her feet took. So how she had happened to run into Draco Malfoy of all people in one of the countless numbers of halls… she was unclear of the answer.

She didn’t so much as look at him as the two passed one another. Simply continued on with her confident walk ins hat could have very well been the wrong direction.

Draco Malfoy didn’t allow things to be as easy… just having to stop and turn. Just having to try and stir the pot, “My father sent me a letter this morning… learned some interesting things.”

He was smirking, getting a sick sort of joy out of whatever he was now knowledgeable of… getting a sick joy out of what power the knowledge gave him.

Iris stopped… but she didn’t turn, not immediately. First she allowed the anger that flashed over her face to settle, letting the silence drag out… then once ready she shrugged and turned her head over her shoulder. Eyes cold as they locked onto Malfoy… tone colder as she gave her only words, “Maybe ask Your Father Dearest how smart it would be to threaten a Blackwell.”

And then she was on with her walk… leaving Draco Malfoy to watch her fleeting figure as the smirk dropped from his face.