𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐹𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃

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The immediate reaction was… happy. Unnaturally so. As if every worry, every bad thing in her life had been washed away. The first immediate reaction was so… comforting… but no…

It was quiet. As if every thought, every sound…. Every ounce of awareness left her. It was dark. Lonely. Empty. Everything was gone. Everything that was her was gone. Sure, the worries, but also the true parts of herself. It was an empty sense of comfort. A false one.

One that quickly grew suffocating. All control over her situation gone. Over her life gone.

A false comfort that was taking away all freedom and trying to convince her to do something as idiotic as turn around and say—

Iris gasped, eyes wide as she slipped to the ground onto her back and slipped out of the magical hold that had attempted to trap her.

Alastor Moody must have laughed; the only way you could describe the rumble of a sound that left him. Iris didn't seem to find it all that amusing, glaring up to the man with an intensity that would have most others running away… he wasn't as affected… the glare of a teenage girl, despite her name, was much less horrific than things he had surely experienced.

He growled to the classroom, his fake eye swiveling to two students in the back, "Looks easy, you say! You think you could break from an imperious curse as easily as a Blackwell, the mind reader on top of that!" Iris tried to stop herself from cringing, the man saying a bit too much for her liking, "Well, Flanagan, you are next then; let's watch you break from a curse better than wizards much greater than you have fallen to."

Spoiler alert, he didn't.

But Iris wasn't paying much attention, face sour as she lifted herself back to her feet. Cursing the school under her breath, "Unforgivable Curses in class. Fucking mad house."

Walking back to her seat, Iris was really just mad the whole way.

Deservedly. I mean, Moody was the one to teach them about these Unforgivable Curses. Curses that were very much illegal. And yet… a school and apparently the school's headmaster was just all fine with one of those illegal curses being used on students as a reality check… for children. Hogwarts was a very strange place and was in deep need of some sort of inspection.

Sitting down with an almost dramatic intensity… Iris didn't even get a moment to start complaining before Theodore whispered under his breath, "Can you stay in my head when it is my turn?"

Iris's glare dropped, blinking once and then twice to herself as she briefly looked to her friend… scanning him over, finally seeming to be forced to realize that Theodore Nott was deeply uncomfortable in this class.

He didn't look it in a quick glance or to people who would just notice his regular apathetic face and look no further… but, now that she was really looking, Iris saw it. His clenched jaw, his stiff back, his hands almost pushing down against his leg… stopping them from bouncing or giving away too much.

All odd behavior for Theodore Nott… so Iris hummed, "Of course."

And she did. As Theodore Nott was called, as he stiffly walked to the front… Iris had that signature glaze wash over her eyes. Settling herself deeper into Theodore's mind.

Her ability had levels. On the surface, the words and pictures that crossed people's minds in their day-to-day life were thrown into the air as if spoken to Iris. Read off a menu or have your mind wander off to the pretty girl you saw at the store… and well, Iris is hearing and seeing it as well. No one could sense it; no one could stop it. After all, those thoughts at the forefront of your head are what people are shouting at the world, how they are experiencing the world in real time. It requires no intrusion.

A bit deeper, she could focus on a person. As if tuning into one conversation in a crowded room. The hum of the others exists… but it becomes white noise and often times forgotten. This was more intrusive, focusing on one head, one person, and the things they may be saying, but maybe not to you. It was like eavesdropping… this is what she most often did to Theodore, but with his permission, it was being allowed to focus on him.

And then was the deepest she could dig. Requires teh most focus, of course. But she could open up her mind. She could find every memory. Every feeling. She could dig out thoughts you never allowed to cross your mind for more than a fraction of a second. It was invasive.

But no matter how intrusive or invasive, few could ever tell. Iris could come and go into a person's mind completely undetected. It was a skill to have an awareness of mind to know when someone was peaking in. And even more so to be able to at least fight back.

Theodore Nott could do both. So when about to face a curse that took away everything, that required a skill of mind to fight…. He stood a good chance. And yet he was nervous… and wanted the comfort of a familiar presence to keep him stable as he fought for control of his head again.

And he did well. Didn't jump on tables or spin around or imitate a rodent. He just stood, fighting a mental battle against the false comfort and the demanding voice. He fell; the mental battle of fighting a physical reaction was a strange one, but just like Iris and as would Harry Potter later… he fell, slipping from the hold. Fighting it.

Moody didn't laugh as he had with Iris or congratulate him as he would with Harry… Moody just silently let Theodore return to his seat. Probably the closest to pity that had yet to flash through his eyes. It was odd… but Iris was too focused on her friend to catch it.

Her face was as perfectly stoic as could be as she watched his hand tremor.

Theodore didn't look at Iris. Making it clear that whatever had happened… well, he just didn't want to talk about it. All he wanted was his time under the imperious curse to be forgotten…

And Iris respected that.

~~~~~~

Iris was starting to notice a bit of a pattern with school life. And that was how quickly time passed after small adjustment periods. Getting into the flow of classes and student life causes you to reach a point where you blink, and suddenly, a month has passed. Just as with the year prior, few things ever happen to break the flow. Every day passes the same as the last…. Not unhappy but not memorable beyond just the safety and content of it all.

It was a comfortable sort of time loop to be in. Much better to have insignificant happy times than memorable but horrific moments. Knowing that times were okay much better than the vivid memories haunting dreams.

So time passed. Summer faded away, and fall settled in. The wind brought in an appreciated chill. Trees began their routines to sleep away for the bitter and approaching winters. Nights began creeping up far too soon. Classes upped in intensity. Something blah blah blah about exams called O.W.L.s, a fifth-year problem, mind you, so why the fourth years had to care was beyond Iris's understanding. And the excitement for the first Hogsmeade trip hung in the air just had to be had the year prior.

Things were just so normal. School life was normal. Predictable even. So easy to get lost that the approaching Tournament seemed to just have slipped every mind.

And Iris appreciated that.

~~~~~~

"Iris, can we look through your jewelry?"

Iris hummed from her spot on the floor where she was furiously brushing out her hair; it was getting long and very much a chore to make nice, "Hand me any rings you think would go with this outfit while you do."

Sally-Ann and Tracey both vaguely looked at Iris's green sweater. One of the few times she actually seemed dressed for the weather. Then digging under the girl's bed, they found her jewelry box. They treated it like glass, both girls having to just stare at the box for a moment to take it in, breathing before they opened it to see all the jewels they convinced themselves were hidden within.

And really, it wasn't a wrong thing to assume. Something they quickly and wonderfully discovered as they lifted the lid. It was well organized, each piece given its own little space, and the layers could be lifted to show more compartments of jewels beneath. There was a lack of earrings, only fancy clip-ons; understandably, her ears were incapable of preserving holes. Necklaces were attracted to the inside of the lid, the place eyes would go last when looking straight down… but when both Sally-Ann and Tracey saw perhaps the most eye-catching piece in the box… well, it was hard to look elsewhere.

Right in the center was a thin chain attached to a ball about nickel size. The little ball was a moon. A small little sphere that showed every dark crater in perfect imitation glowed in such a gentle light it may as well have been in the sky. Only magic could create something so… real.

Sally-Ann look the sphere between her fingers gently, scared it would break. It was cold and felt like glass as she spun it around. A complete full moon, "This one is beautiful."

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Iris canned her neck to look, catching quick sight of it, "We get those at birth… well, anyone who falls under our crest. They represent the moon phase you were born under. Other Crests have their own traditions."

Valeria poked her head out from the bathroom, "Does your crest not just mean everyone?"

"Nope," she popped her 'p' as she tied her hair back with a ribbon, "Ours is formally known as the Awilix Crest…" blank faces all around made Iris crack a smile, "a Maya moon goddess. Each crest name is taken from a moon goddess from whatever region the Crest leaders happened to be in and liked the name enough to keep, I suppose, hard to track history that far back.

"Well, when my ancestors decided to go and take control of two of the other crests, we suddenly had three cultures under our control, and a lot of power over everyone left still standing. So the Royal Crest was created. Formally it is separate. Has no culture on its own. When in public acting as royalty, we are never allowed to wear our necklaces. Have to be a representative for everyone. Delegates are chosen to act more formally as Crest Leaders… even if they lack real authority."

Satisfied with her hair, Iris joined Sally and Tracey at her jewelry box. Resting her head on her knee, she eyed the necklace Sally-Ann had finally dropped to fiddle with some rings, "It's a weird situation, loving being a shifter, being in tune with just our history… and if we were just the Awilix Crest, I think it would be… a better life. I do like that side of being a Blackwell."

Her hand reached into the box, pulling out a black ring decorated with various green gems. Sally-Ann's eyes trailed its ascent. The green shined brilliantly with the glow from their candles, "This is the formal family ring. The Royal Crest… its this side of being a Blackwell that…" she paused, placing it back down next to the nearly identical one that was just slightly bulkier in size. "It's just a heavy piece of jewelry to wear."

Frowning, Tracey reached for the necklace that started this whole thing; she daintily held it, "So why not wear this now that you have the chance?" Sally-Ann and Tracey both looked at the girl intently. And Jane and Valeria had glanced over, both listening from their respective spots in the room.

Almost… surprisingly, a faint sort of smile tugged at Iris's lips. Reaching for the chains around her neck… she finally showed off just what those two necklaces that always seemed hidden away were. And well, one was another of those moon pendants, a half moon. Twiddling with the glowing ball, she looked down briefly at it, "My father's ring and his necklace are the only objects of his I have," she looked up, dropping the pendant, "he liked the necklace much better as well."

"And what is that one?"

That one… Iris's second necklace. A carved dragon hanging by its tail curled up on itself. The wood was a deep reddish brown, and the details so precise it was nothing short of a work of art. Every ridge and every vein in the wings was carved into the wood. Iris looked down at it for just a second before taking both necklaces and stuffing them back under her sweater, "Just a dragon."

Sally-Ann's face was disbelieving, an eyebrow raised as she watched Iris pick a few rings to slip on her fingers, "Just a dragon?"

Iris stood to return to preparing for Hogsmeade, "Just a dragon."

And Iris left it at that.

~~~~~~

Theodore Nott walked into The Three Broomsticks alone. He had a task to fulfill, well, two, actually. One was to save a table for all the girls, something Valeria announced as his manly duties for the group. And to that, Theodore really just had to grumble about needing male friends. A false notion, of course… the last thing Theodore Nott wanted was more friends. The ones he had were exhausting enough.

And his second task was to find Remus Lupin and help protect the box holding Iris's much-anticipated dress. This task he intended to take much less seriously… but when he scanned the room to spot Remus Lupin already at a table with said box… well, he was just provided an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

Approaching the booth where his once professor sat hunched over a drink, he cleared his throat, asking when he had the attention to the older man's tired eyes, "Mind if I sit? Iris and the others will be another half hour? At least."

Remus smiled rather warmly as he waved Theodore into the booth across, not getting a chance to greet the boy properly when the pub owner Madam Rosmerta walked over.

"A butterbeer for you, dear?"

Theodore nodded, almost leaving her with a simple thank you before he caught himself, "Actually, four butterbeers, two gillywaters, and a cherry syrup. Thank you."

Rosmerta smiled fondly, "The girls sent you off to order, I take it?"

He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, remembering that some people would take his false annoyance seriously, "They will be a bit, so no rush."

Rosmerta hurried off as she was waved down elsewhere, leaving Theodore to quietly turn to Remus… a faint bit of awkwardness settling into the air. Luckily it was crowded inside… silence was not a factor, but Theodore looked for any opportunity to busy himself.

"Seven drinks?"

Theodore's eyes shot to Remus at the question, meeting his warm smile again while he nodded. Clearing his throat, he answered. Iris gets both a cherry syrup soda and water, doesn't—"

"Handle sweet well, but she likes the taste, so she uses the water to help wash it down," Remus chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down at his drink, "Another bit of Leo in her. That one is more a Blackwell tradition, though. Leo's father taught him and his siblings to do that."

Theodore stared down Remus for quite a moment, almost… just barely seeming interested in this random bit of information about the more… personal side of Iris's family. It sometimes slipped his mind how Remus Lupin, one of his third-year professors, this tired man dressed in run-down clothes, knew Iris Blackwell and her family on levels Theodore would never be able to reach.

He was important to her, there in her childhood. There with her father before she even existed. He was important to her, and she was important to him, in ways Theodore could understand… enough to feel the need to do one thing.

"I'm sorry."

Remus hadn't seemed to immediately click that the apology had come from the boy. But when he realized there was no other explanation, he looked up, meeting the boy's guarded eyes. He didn't ask what it was about… rather, Remus thought about it. And with time… he seemed to have a guess, no, not a guess. Remus could pinpoint the only reason Theodore Nott would apologize… he always had his suspicions on just what had made Iris so mad at the boy the year before.

And well, Remus just smiled and—

"Remus Lupin?"

Being a… werewolf… his kind of werewolf meant that when Remus Lupin heard an unfamiliar voice call his name, he flinched.

So there was one second where Theodore had been the first to look towards the new voice. Nothing flashed over him when he spotted the boy walking their way, for Theodore had no idea who it was. He was just a stranger. Nothing familiar in the black hair, the dark skin, or even the unnatural silver that seemed to be his eyes. He was tall, bigger, older, and clearly not another student Theodore would be sharing classes with. Interestingly there was something in his accent, though… it was… American… oddly in line with…

Theodore's eyes grew when it struck him. That boy was—

"Ryker?"

Remus had looked up, instantly recognizing something in the boy's features. And something in this reunion certainly meant something to both, Remus on his feet, clasping the boy on the shoulders in near disbelief before they smiled and hugged.

"You've grown so much." An exasperated Remus.

A sharp laugh from Ryker, "Had a growth spurt this year, Doc says it is finally slowing down. Did I hear correctly that you taught last year?"

Their mindless rambles of catching up continued. Remus never really quite shook the shock on his face… and Theodore couldn't quite shake the shock running through his head. His first immediate reaction on getting his bearings was to look out the window, a relief hitting him when he spotted a glimpse of Jane's pink hat and distinctive blond hair going through the door of a shop… everyone else was surely already inside.

He couldn't bring himself to smile when Remus sat down, Ryker's unnaturally bright eyes shifting to Theodore for just a second before flickering back when Remus offered him a seat. Leaving Theodore to just observe… his attention immediately on that small smile of his… a familiarity in it.

"I really shouldn't. Have to head off to the castle to meet with Dumbledore soon. Saw you and just couldn't pass by, though… been a while." And with that, the smile on the boy's lips faded.

The circumstances seemed to finally hit Remus… the joyous reunion suddenly tainted on why a reunion had needed to happen in the first place. But instead of addressing that… Remus chose to do something odd…. Directing to Theodore, he smiled a smile that seemed… forced, "Mr. Nott here is waiting for some of his friends to catch up and shoo me off. But we have been reminiscing about passing the time."

The choice of words… was odd. At least it struck as so… Theodore, however, was in no state to question it. Remaining bland as could be as he watched the interaction, preparing for when Ryker looked at him.

And Ryker's eyes hadn't immediately shifted to Theodore, focusing on the box in the middle of the table, "That box alone is worth quite the penny, can't imagine what's inside."

Both Remus and Theodore darted their eyes at it. And Remus nearly cringed when he read the designer's name on the box. A reputable name, no doubt, to someone with money. Something Remus, very clearly, did not have. And once more, Remus did something very odd… he stayed quiet… letting Ryker's unasked question sit unanswered.

So, Theodore turned to Ryker with a nod, "A Yule Ball dress. A friend had it shipped to the tailor shop, sent me to pick it up."

Both Remus and Ryker turned on Theodore for his words. Remus… unreadable. Ryker… curious. Finally interested in the boy, "Nott…." Ryker's eyes narrowed, his head working as he considered the boy, taking Theodore back to over a year ago when it had been Iris Blackwell across from him in a cafe. "You must be Theodore."

He almost didn't like it, how familiar that was… but Theodore had to nod.

Ryker hummed, the silver glow of his eyes burning into Theodore, "Who's the lucky girl who gets that dress?"

Ryker missed it, too busy staring at Theodore to catch it… but Remus closed his eyes, briefly dipping his head with a frown, hands gripped tight around his cup. Theodore had to force himself to keep from shifting in his seat, his brown eyes keeping their composer against the silver, "Jane Yaxley."

It was a good lie. Believable. If Ryker Peverell had grown up with the same knowledge of pureblood families as Iris Blackwell had… well, it was the perfect lie. A pure-blooded daughter and a pure-blooded son, neither from the most prominent of families, would, of course, have some form of friendship. Would probably even be attending the ball together.

So why did his eyes continue to burn into Theodore?

Why didn't it feel believable?

Remus had recovered by the time Ryker finally tore his eyes off Theodore, no longer interested in the boy. He smiled, stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, "I should be heading off," his face shifted a bit more serious as he caught Remus' eyes again, "If you need anything, ask. You were important to them, Remus… they would have wanted you to be okay."

And perhaps in the most familiar way… Ryker left it there. His final words as he abruptly ended the conversation and walked away. Heading out the door without so much as a look back.

So familiar… so… Iris. It was odd seeing so much of his friend in someone else. But he didn't dwell on it much as he watched the door swing closed. He took a breath, ready to speak, when Remus shushed him. Theodore glanced back in reaction, closing his mouth when he caught Remus trailing two more figures in their walk out the pub door. A tension in him that didn't fall away until the door slammed shut again.

Remus sighed deeply, hands leaving his cup to rub at his temples.

And Theodore took that as his cue to try again, "He is one of the original bloodlines, correct?"

Remus stopped rubbing his temples but didn't make a move beyond that… so Theodore asked the more direct question, "What is his gift?"

Remus dropped his hands back to his cup… taking one extended sip before placing the cup down. Looking into the foam topping of his butterbeer, Remus smiled bitterly, "Ryker can sense a lie."

Oh.

And as the door flew open, the distinctive laughs of his friends cut into the room… Theodore just hoped one thing…

That he could forget the first time he had met Ryker Peverell, allowing Iris to just keep laughing.

She at least deserved that.