𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓋𝑒

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Iris Blackwell had a lot of moods. The year before, it was just down to her just being her… the days where she seemed more energetic were marked down as a good night’s rest. Days where she seemed quieter just shrugged away as her not feeling up for anything. The everything in between was just her normal state.

Now… with the knowledge she was… well, some different species of werewolf than the monster that kids were told as bedtime stories… things made more sense. At least if you could recognize the patterns. But first, you would have to know there were patterns.

And well, Valeria finally caught on. She was studying her moon charts for some extra credit assignment in Divination while waiting for her turn in the bathroom. And in the middle of writing, something struck her. Something that had her gaze turned to Iris, who was having one of her mornings where she seemed to want to sleep in as she clung to her bed… something very unlike her most days.

“Are you affected by the entire moon cycle?”

Sally-Ann briefly glanced up from where she was tying her shoes, not as intrigued as Valeria but willing to hear the answer as well.

Iris didn’t find it an interesting topic to explain, not even caring enough to open her eyes, just humming before she slurred through her mumbles, “Mm-hmm, full moons make us go grr, and new moons make us go….” She faded off, getting her point across with an example as she pretended to fall back to sleep.

“Why is that?”

Iris sighed, rolling onto her back to stretch and actually make something of herself. And she humored Valeria some more, “Full moons are when we most connected to ourselves as wolves. Most Shifters are advised to stay away from people. Doesn’t affect the original lines as intensely, but we get irritable, more authoritative, senses are on overdrive. Anyone with a gift is stronger or experiencing it more intensely.”

She sat up to take in a deep breath, “New moons are the opposite, when we are most disconnected. It actually makes for a strange feeling… your senses aren’t as in tune, your energy feels to have been sucked out of you. You aren’t so much calm… just too tired to be quite as hotheaded or do much of anything. Anyone who can tends to just sleep the entire day. Again the original bloodlines fare better. The before and the day after can be a bit troublesome for both phases… but everything in-between is normal enough.”

Valeria looked satisfied enough with the answers she had been given. And as she looked back down to her book proudly announced, “Tomorrow is a New Moon.”

Iris blandly turned to her, an easy “No shit” flying from her mouth. Quickly she followed up with a question, “Is it my turn or yours in the bathroom after Tracey?”

“Mine.”

And that was all Iris needed to fall back onto her bed, postponing the whole making something of herself thing. Her face twisted as something else struck her mind, “Now eclipses are pretty crazy.”

~~~~~~

“Snape needs to deal with whatever stick he has shoved up his ass.”

So far, that seemed to be a shared thought for the entire student body. Severus Snape seemed to be starting off the new school year worse than ever. Had the poor nervous boy Neville Longbottom spend a detention disemboweling toads… just for simply burning through a cauldron.

Luckily Iris started off this year in potions without a detention. She and Snape were still on all levels tense with one another… but she wasn’t looking to pick a fight with the New Moon approaching.

But Snape had managed to find a reason to give Sally-Ann a detention. Hence why she was pitching a fit all through lunch and on the entire journey to their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Alastor Moody. It provided a nice distraction for Iris, who very much seemed to be considering skipping class altogether.

They had left early. The school had been buzzing all week with talk about how different his class was… how it was the first taste of the real world. Sally-Ann and Valeria had bought into the excitement. Tracey was cautiously excited, part of her on edge from how Iris, Jane, and even Theodore seemed apprehensive. Hell, Iris was just plain uncomfortable anytime she was in the same room as the man.

Their group approached the class to already see a queue formed… that awkward huddle outside the door that everyone did the first week or two, unsure about whether they should just let themselves in early. And as always, it just takes one person with the courage to walk in and take their seat early for everyone else to follow.

Iris threw Harry a weak smile as she shuffled her way into the class behind the rest of her friends. Following Theodore to their designated seats in the back of the class. The other girls would speed walk up to the front row of seats, even Sally-Ann… the only proof needed to show how high of expectations people had for their new professor.

As the shuffling of feet, scraping of chairs, and rustling of school bags quieted… that room full of students could have heard a pin drop. Everyone at attention, eyes darting towards the corridor as they waited.

Theodore raised an eyebrow at Iris as he took out his book. Taking a moment to look her over. Her back rigid, shoulders tensed, her nails just barely hitting against the table in a mock sort of tap. Moody made her incredibly uncomfortable.

The stories behind all those scars… the sign that he had the most real world experience one could find. To most, it was thrilling. The idea of being treated like adults… learning about the real world… about real life. Real life… Moody was going to be their introduction to real life. And all those teenagers desperately wanted to catch a glimpse.

But Iris… Iris wanted nothing more to do with real life. She had seen far more than enough… far too much for her age.

And… Theodore knew that. So, holding to tradition, he gave her the best peace he could offer… a head to escape into. Opening up his textbook, Theodore started reading… at least providing something for the girl to listen to in the empty quiet of the room.

And for a time Theodore kept notice of how she at least stopped tapping her nails.

But whatever mock sense of safety he provided, it would drain away the moment her sharper ears picked up on something.

Iris started humming when the noise hit everyone else’s ears a moment later. Trying to drown out more than the clunk of his walk.

Moody had all eyes on him the moment he walked in the door. The same reaction from the students, the same silence, that had greeted him on the night of the Welcoming Feast. And well… he was the same frightening image.

Hobbling along to his desk, you could even see his claw-like foot with every other step. And as he plopped into the chair at his desk, the room quieted once more…. Theodore’s hair stood on end. The tune from Iris and the sight of their life-hardened professor had set him just a bit on edge.

“You can put those all away,” his voice was like a growl. Iris hummed a bit louder, “those books. You won’t be needing them.”

There was a second round of rusting as everyone returned their books to their bags… Theodore’s tension eased away, his hair settling back down.

Mad-Eye Moody shook the mane of his hair away from his face, the class roster in his hand to call for roll when the room quieted again. He looked at the paper with his normal eye, that dark beady thing of an eye… his other eye, that electric blue iris painted onto a ball and called an eye. That thing continued spinning all around.

And, of course, it moved straight to the student whose name topped the roster, “Iris Blackwell.”

It struck Iris, having both his eyes on her as he paused. It struck her to have to hear her name rumble into the room. It struck her to have his attention on her. So much so that she could only nod as her name was called, trying to answer to the roll call and get his eyes away so she wouldn’t have to look at them any longer.

But, no one who could spot a Blackwell in a crowd ever left them to continue on without at least a few words, “Couldn’t tell you have any of Octavia in you,” several pairs of eyes shifted to Iris, everyone always so curious to learn more about the girl. “The House of Fawley will effectively die with her. A tragedy—”

“That she chose.” Something sparked back in Iris. Her timidness was just a faint memory, quickly replaced by an unusual coolness in her. Theodore’s hair stood back up.

Moody’s lip had tugged, not enough to catch the meaning behind it… to discern what was so worthy of that sort of reaction. And his business with the girl had not ended there, “Your cousin, not Alexandra’s son, the younger boy, Nicolas’ kid. He worked with me in my last year before retirement. Invited me to see him receive some award in December. How old is he now?”

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There was a pause… the first time the girl had truly had to dig to remember anything about her family… but it existed somewhere in her head, “Should be a few years into his 20s by now….”

And again, his lip tugged, and he grumbled once again, “Those cracks in the Blackwell family still run deep.” He didn’t allow anyone to think too hard about the words, startling the next in line on the roster, “Lavender Brown.”

Iris took a visible breath when his eyes left hers. The coolness that had seemed to freeze the air around her melted away. Leaning her back against her chair, Iris allowed herself the rest of roll call to relax, eyes locked onto the desk, humming to herself again.

And truthfully, you would not be able to tell that she was paying the class any ounce of attention even when Moody began speaking. But that distinctive head tilt of hers showed that she was at least listening partially… always at least partially. Iris never could allow herself to shut off her awareness completely.

Because she always needed to be able to react.

“So… do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by Wizarding Law?”

Iris’ breath hitched in her throat, her eyes closing for just a moment before she dragged them up… forcing herself to give the class her full attention. Something… something was worth it.

Moody called on Ronald Weasley, the boy so excited about a class that he had for the first time, raised a hand. Though, Ron was tentative as he answered, “My dad mentioned one to me once… It was called the Im… the Imperious Curse?”

Theodore had tensed up, his jaw clenching just a fraction as Moody mentioned the trouble it had caused the Ministry. Iris only could spare him a glance before Moody pulled himself back to his feet, pulling a jar from one of the drawers and placing it on his desk.

Iris stilled as she stared at that jar… the three large, black spiders within creeping around in their limited space.

Her gaze would not wavier as she locked onto one of the spiders, the one Moody would allow to crawl into his hand before he resealed the jar… the one that would be risen high in his palm, shown off to the class. The one that would have a wand in its face as one word left Moody’s scratchy throat, “Imperio!”

The spider jumped from Moody’s hand, catching itself on its own thread as it began shining back and forth, building momentum. Momentum that would be used to perform a backflip, snapping its own thread in the process to spin through the air while descending towards the desk. The spider would nail the perfect landing, not even taking a second to adjust before beginning a series of rapid cartwheels. Then with a jerk, the spider stood on two of its legs, a hurried tap dance its next show.

Spiders didn’t move like that, even if they could physically… they had no need. And yet, as if straight out of a cartoon, a real, living spider was performing a show. It was almost comical. That’s why people laughed.

But really… it was sickening. That spider was acting entirely at the mercy of a spell. As if a puppet on a string. No will of its own anymore.

Theodore grew paler the longer it went on, every shout of laughter shaking him. He couldn’t hold out watching, dropping his eyes and giving himself a moment.

Moody was the one to slap the reality of the situation into the bulk of the students, “Total control! I could make it jump out the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats….” Moody threw the spider back into the jar as he explained further, rambling about the trouble The Imperious Curse had previously caused.

“The Imperious Curse can be fought, and I’ll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone’s got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” Iris was still lost to those spiders as everyone jumped, her eyes tracking the one that had just been put back… it was still seeming to regain its own mind.

And on Moody would go… asking for another of these curses.

This time, just as surprisingly as when Ron had raised his hand… was Neville Longbottom. The boy never had the nerve to speak up in a class outside Herbology. And he almost seemed to regret speaking up, his voice timid… distant, “There’s… there’s the Cruciatus Curse.”

Moody had inquired about Neville’s last name… it seemed... deliberate, the students he was focusing on… but Iris was in no place to notice it… to question it. No, she just watched as he took out another spider… her hand clenching at her shirt as she watched it stand still on the desk, too scared to move.

Moody had enlarged it to a size bigger than a tarantula. Theodore didn’t even raise his head to witness such, he actually just closed his eyes in preparation… fighting his own battles.

Moody pointed his wand at the spider… muttering, “Curcio.”

The spider twitched violently, legs giving out as its body rolled over. Its legs kicked. Its body jerked. Its eyes were frozen open, staring out at the students as it silently screamed for the pain to stop.

Iris’s breath hitched, her eyes locked onto that spider’s wide… brilliant eyes. The poor thing unable to express, unable to scream, unable to respond to pain the same way… and completely unable to make it stop. A thin layer of moisture had pricked at Iris’ eyes when the spider shuddered, making a particularly sudden jerk—

“Stop it!” Hermione’s voice screeched from the front of the room.

Everyone looked to Hermione and then to where Hermione was looking… to Neville Longbottom. The boy’s hands were clenched… his eyes wide and face utterly horrified as he looked down at his desk.

Iris could breathe again, though it was quick and labored, as she watched Moody shrink the spider and place him back in the jar. Her eyes went to the last spider…

And Moody asked one more time for a spell… something in Theodore had stirred. Something struck the boy, the cogs in his head turning as he looked up with furrowed eyebrows.

Moody would pick Hermione Granger’s shaky hand as it stuck in the air. Her answer was but a whisper, her eyes filled with unease, “Avada Kedavra.”

Something hit the classroom. Everyone looked just as uneasy as Hermione, spinning their heads to eye her after the words left her lips.

Something hit Theodore. His eyes widened as he looked at his friend. Finally taking in the growing severity of her state for the first time this lesson. And he looked… scared. He looked to where Moody was about to do his last demonstration.

Moody smiled… he smiled a twisted, lopsided smile.

Iris watched the last spider try and run from the reaching hand. Try and escape the doom coming its way. It fought… not even settling as it was in Moody’s palm. And not settling as it hit the wood of the desk. It made a run for its life. Legs working to reach the edge, to disappear from sight… it was so close…

“Avada Kedavra!”

A flash-bang of green light mirrored in Iris’ eyes. With it was the whistle of the wind during a miserable storm. The spider was rolled over instantly, its legs curled in the unmistakable sign of death. It was as if that whistle was that of life being sucked from the spider.

There was a split second where everything was still. The scene processing. What they had all just witnessed in three demonstrations still processing.

One spider still learning how to control its own limbs again.

One spider still withering in the remnants of the pain.

One spider… still.

Three Unforgivable Curses.

No reason for any of them to exist other than to leave the greatest of scars.

As the second to process passed… the room seemed to be let off pause. Action flooding into the scene. Students sobbing, some falling back…

Iris Blackwell out the door before Theodore Nott could even mutter her name.

~~~~~~

“Avada Kedavra!”

…

A green flame roared to life. And from it tumbled a small body.

She landed on her hands and knees, her chest heaving, her face hidden by the curtain of her own hair.

Pushing through she looked up, her eyes dark as they scanned her surroundings. A dark, dusty room, the furniture covered by white sheets… abandoned.

She didn’t think any further than that. Casting one look to the green fire still alive behind her… she ran.

Out of the room, down the hall, and the out the door. She didn’t bother closing it behind her… she didn’t bother trying to pull any tricks… she didn’t bother trying to quiet her steps as she disappeared into the treeline of the forest.

She just ran.

For how long was unknown. To where was unknown. From who was unknown.

But she didn’t stop… not until her body just couldn’t take it anymore.

And so, with no option to keep running, she hid.

Eyes scanned around her just once for somewhere suitable. She spotted the thin entrance to a cave. Well hardly even a cave, just a small hole nestled between rocks. So she shimmed in, struggling to pull her backpack through but managing.

She just hid.

For how long was unknown. To where was unknown. From who was unknown.

She just stayed quiet as could be. Making herself as small as possible as she listened outside.

Eventually, the adrenaline faded. Eventually, the fear faded. Eventually, the situation settled in… and she panicked.

So she cried.

She was alone. That was the only known part of any of it.

“Avada Kedavra!”

The words were a record player in her head. Pulling her right back to that moment. To when the green flash-bang of light first mirrored in her eyes. To when the air had first seemed to whistle as it did in a bad storm. To when she had first witnessed life suck out of someone’s eyes.

“Avada Kedavra!”

The words wouldn’t quiet no matter how much her hands pushed into her ears. Reminding her of the day her world shattered. The day that little girl spilled all her tears while lost in the middle of a forest in the dead of night. The day that little girl changed, never to be the same again.

“Avada Kedavra!”

The words would haunt her forever. They would forever open a wound that she didn’t know how to begin healing. They were words that tainted every good memory she had. They were the words that had taken her father away… the only person that could have helped her in that moment. They were the words that made her experience just what being alone was.

“Iris…”

For what felt like the hundredth time since Theodore had found her… he tried to reach her. Tried to get even a twitch from her. Needing some sign that he could reach her. His voice was as soothing as he could manage. But the more it failed, the more he started to doubt that soothing was going to work.

“Iris…”

Her eyes shot open, startling the boy, but he tried not to show it… remaining still in his crotched position a few feet away. Letting her wide eyes level with his.

“Can I help you at all?” He cringed just a bit at the question… he was trying his best, but this was a new experience for him….

As expected, Iris seemed to tense more, laser-focused on him… any movement, and she would have certainly bolted.

Theodore paused, mulling over his words slowly… there was no need to rush through this, “Okay… Iris, I am going to sit down over here.” He waited a moment before fully lowering himself to the ground, keeping his brown eyes steady with hers.

She was breathing heavily. Curled up on herself, palms pressed hard over her ears, fingers digging into her skull. Her eyes were panicked, and there was a thin curtain of tears built up that would never fall.

Theodore… Theodore wasn’t liking this… at all. Seeing her like that, it twisted something in him… that part of him that had come to care for her. He briefly thought of all the times she had run off before, chased by no one… fighting alone.

“You are having a panic attack… and it will go away.” He hoped at least, “Do you think you could try breathing with me?”

She hadn’t responded, her eyes still just frozen on him… but he had no other options… so with one exaggerated breath in and then slowly letting it out… he started, “In…. And then out.”

He felt silly for a moment… but as he went on, she had begun to ease… though with the way she never followed along, it seemed his repeated words were more of a distraction than a guidance. Either way, he would take it and would keep going.

Sitting with her, breathing in and out, breaking in with a mumbled good anytime it seemed she was getting better.

And as he slowly started to see more of his friend in the girl… Theodore felt… well, he was just happy that, for once, he had followed her.