I was rereading Chapter 1 and there were many grammar mistakes. I'm apologizing T_T. I usually type continuously and rarely look back at my work. And I mixed up Liverpool and Eton.

Fact: They are in ETON!

I'll try to proofread as much as possible before I publish.

Chapter 2

Spending the summer in Hogwarts was better than spending the summer at that dreadful orphanage. Tom Riddle finally has the absolute freedom he longed for. Credits to some staff members he has close ties with, he'll never have to go back to the orphanage ever again. He could just stay at the academy during the breaks and summers until he graduates. This place was the only place he could truly call home.

It was quiet in the Slytherin Common Room. The only ones who were present were Tom and his snake Nagini. Tom sat comfortably in "his" chair, black satin with gold trimmings. He had his legs crossed, elbows rested and hands together. He has a cup of early grey tea sitting on a table next to him. It'll only be a couple weeks before Hogwarts begins a new year.

This was by far the productive summer he ever had. With his recent discovery that he was the sole heir of Slytherin, he has to prove to everyone that he can live up to his linage. Over the past few weeks he has mastered spells unimaginable to wizards his age. He also gained many supporters from different houses other than his own who pledged their loyalty to him. In return, he will give them what they wanted, glory, power and most importantly, the purge of mudbloods.

Tom outlined his 6th year and he was confident that everything would go according to plan. He expected no "obstruction" in his path to greatness.

Meanwhile in Eton..

Iris Warwick held on to a glum expression. It was unheard of for anyone to leap through many years especially a millennium. She was mostly concern about her family, how they moved on without her. She wondered how her mother reacted when she didn't show up home the night she fell off the cliff.

Iris was the youngest and the only female out of her 5 siblings. She rarely saw her father at home since he was too occupied in educating the males of the family. She wasn't on bad terms with him, it's just the fact she wasn't an heir, or male. It didn't bother her so much since her mother adored her. Her sweet and quiet spoken mother gave in to many of Iris's wishes and defended her all the time whenever she gets catty with her brothers.

The girl wondered if her name appeared in history textbooks and what magical historian wrote of her. They probably wrote a paragraph on her, saying how she was a snake lover and her quiet character. But mostly importantly, does she have any descendants she could bank on, if she has any left. They'll probably understand her circumstances a lot better than most people. After all, blood is thicker than water. Iris considered it was much better if she kept a low profile on herself. It sounded ridiculous telling people you are 1000 years from the past. She supposed that in the history text, Iris Slytherin ran away or died in the hands of muggles, which were half-true.

"Hello. I know this is a very inconvenient time but I'm one of your great ancestors. I accidently got myself in odd circumstances where I time jumped a thousand years. I seek for your help."

That probably wasn't the best way to approach a distant relative. It sounded absolutely absurd.

Luckily she met Stephen Freeman and Xavier Hawkins who were very kind in helping her adjust to modern muggle society. They taught her how to use muggle technology such as toaster, oven, stove, television, radio and typewriter. She was still getting the hang with the toaster, she nearly Avada Kadavra it to pieces when the toast popped up, it "frightened" her. Iris was beginning to have a better understanding of their culture.

"Oh wait, this is called a recorder. It plays records!" Xavier said excitingly as he shown her his father's large record collection. He popped in Dorsey Brothers and began to slow dance. He swayed his hips from side to side and held him arms like as if he was holding someone.

"Could you please not do that?" Iris asked.

"Yea, it really disturbing," Stephen pitched in.

"You guys are such party poopers," Xavier mumbled, turning his head to his left and crossing his arms in defiance. "Hm!"

Iris asked about the school they attended. Both of them were up coming 6th years. Xavier was sorted in Gryffindor and Stephen in Ravenclaw. Xavier showed her a map of Hogwarts from his planner. There were many additional constructed buildings. The dormitory changed. Usually all the houses would stay in one building and the only thing segregated were genders.

"I thought you were raised with wizards. How could you not know about the Ministry of Magic?" Xavier asked, slowly sipping milk tea from his teacup.

"I lived with a radical clan. They didn't like the established magical community. They were very exclusive," Iris responded.

It was already evening in Eton. The warm neighborhood all of a sudden became deadly quiet. Though it was relatively the safest neighborhood but it was preferred to stay indoors when sun was down. Stephen decided to stay over to keep an eye out for Iris. It wasn't everyday a witch dropped in a muggle neighborhood. Because of the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald still lurking around, she could be one his follower.

The three sat in the main dining table, sipping on milk tea and butter cookies. They had dinner a while ago. Stephen was the cook and he made mean pasta. They were currently having a midnight snack.

"And this is called playboy, best creation on the planet!" Xavier chuckled as he handed her the latest addition.

Iris flipped through the magazine. She didn't reacted like most women would, upset or disturbed. She found it quite appealing.

"Women can show this much skin?" She pointed to women in a bikini. At her time a woman who worn a single layered gown was considered naked. Iris never understood fashion. The gowns worn by her mother was impractical to run in. She recalled the inconvenience of dueling in a 5 piece layered dress. Helena Ravenclaw almost lost a match because she nearly tripped over her dress. Hence why Iris preferred her battle robes. It was functional and she could kick and run.

"Well why not? You women were born with the most captivating physique. Why hide it?"

"It looks like a lot of work has to be put into it…and you are sounding like a dirty old man," Iris's amber eyes daggered at him but she continued to flipped through the serial. "I just can't believe a piece of fabric is actually clothing."

"Don't mind him. He is secretly a sick pervert. He tried creating a polyjuice potion to turn into Megan Fairfield and sneaked into the girl's restroom," Stephen remarked before he took a bite in his cookie. Chew*chew*

"Did he succeed?"

"No, far from it. The hair sample he had was wrong. It belonged to Alphard Black. He locked himself in the bathroom, waiting until the potion wear off," He explained. "It wasn't very fun staying with him throughout the whole muck. It was uneasy to hear Black's voice coming from behind the bathroom stall, complaining about how he could never get a girl in bed or a date on a Friday evening."

"I see… the Black Family are prevalent to this day, so are Malfoy." She noted herself.

"Stephen, you're ruining the mood. She doesn't have to know that," Xavier was annoyed as he loudly used a spoon to mix sugar in his milk tea. "I could get a girl…if I tried."

"Well who was the idiot who wanted to sneak into the girl's restroom? That is really disgusting. I don't want to see a woman going through her bowel movement."

"Okay you got me but what about the girl's showering room?"

"I wouldn't. I have some dignity and respect, unlike you," Stephen loudly placed his teacup down onto the saucer.

"Boys boys…" Iris said in a calm tone. "Well enough about your mishaps with the polyjuice potion. Tell me more about Hogwarts,"

The tense mood quickly faded and the three resumed their oh-so-joy conversation.

"Let's see, we have about 3000 students, four different houses, talking portraits, staircases that moves, quidditch, ghosts, difficult classes…what else is there?" Xavier listed.

"Ghost? What ghosts are there?" Iris asked and proceeded to sip softly on the lukewarm tea.

"Bloody Baron, I don't know much about him, Peeves is a poltergeist. Oh, and Fat Friar and Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington aka Nearly Headless Nick. There probably more but these are the main ones. They are the house's ghosts. I nearly forgot, The Gray Lady, also known as Helena Ravenclaw," Stephen explained.

Iris was in disbelief. Helena Ravenclaw, a ghost at Hogwarts? Helena was her right-hand friend and whenever she had questions, Helena always had the answers. She was born with a mind of gold. Iris wondered if Helena still recognized her over the centuries. What did Helena do to bind herself to that place?

"Hmm… you can say Hogwarts is a lot more open than Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang Institute," Stephen said with a thoughtful expression.

"More open? In what way?"

"We accept muggleborns. Both of the schools only admit students who are pureblood of half-blood. Durmstrang is an exception. They only accept pureblood. Wait did you went to any magic school?"

"No…I was taught by tutors. I was mostly kept within neck of woods." Iris answered.

"But even if we accept muggleborns, there'll always be prejudices and discrimination," Stephen said as he looked down on his cup and fiddled with the teabag's string.

It was sickening he heard the word mudblood countless of times on every corridor. Some of his professors would give him a disgust look from time to time, with their nose in the air, employing their superiority. But Stephen was a brilliant student. Stephen was one of the few who always have a leading grade point average, surpassing majority of the pureblood students. When it came to wits, he always knows the best argument. It was not pleasant to have a class debate against him. He was planning to take the NEWT early unlike most who would take it during their 7th year. He wanted to break the social barriers of muggleborns and that they were just as capable as any wizards.

"Hello? You look tired and absentminded. Would you like to retire?" Iris asked as she stroked his upper arm.

"No, I'm fine," He waved a hand. "I have a lot on my mind. Mostly because the new semester is starting in two weeks."

"Iris, let me ask you one thing. Are you a pureblood?" Stephen asked. Xavier became quiet and looked at her. His expression was blank but Stephen looked somewhat solemn.

Iris pushed her teacup back toward the middle of the table. She then eyed at the both of them and looked grave.

"I'm half-half. My mother single handedly raised me. She told me my father was a muggle and left right before I was born. She said he couldn't accept my mother being a witch." Iris's voice was trembling slightly. "It was difficult for my mother because her clansmen looked down on her for being with a muggle. And a woman being single with a child was shamed upon."

If Iris could one thing well was being the perfect liar or in present day terms, an actress.

"But I'm not angry at my father for leaving my mother," Iris folded her finger together and stretched, breathing in and out. "He could have been killed if he stayed with her. She wouldn't want that. Sometimes he'll leave presents by the footstep of our door, to show he still cares."

Iris quickly recalled her mother telling her a story when she was so angry with her father. They had a rough argument over how he never spent any time with her or shown satisfactory with the things she did around the manor. Her mother locked her self in a guest room to cool off. When she got out, her father was sitting on the hallway with a rose bouquet in his hand. Iris remembered her mother saying how her father looked so pathetic and defeated that time. Her mother said she was so surprised she quickly locked herself in the guest room again. He had to apparate in the room just to get to her. Then after a passionate night, 9 month later, Iris popped out to the world.

Iris gagged every time she had to hear the story. It reddened her ears to know her existence came from her parents having "make up sex". She just learned the term in Playboy, page 34. Salazar was hotheaded but at times he could be considerate if only his wife is involved.

"That is the saddest story I ever heard," Xavier sniffed and wiped a tear with his sleeves. "Where are they now?"

Iris lightly giggled at his reaction and sighed. "They're together now I hope. I'll see them someday…" She said quietly, trying to hint that they pasted away. As of 1943, they're both dead.

Stephen Freeman felt like an idiot for assuming the worst in her. She was no different from him. She probably endured as much resentment from her clansmen as he did with old-minded classmates and professors.

He got up from his chair, went behind Iris and wrapped his arm around her neck. He wanted her to feel what he feels, that he would be there for her whenever she needed and protect her from harm. Iris gave a small smile. Then Xavier got up from his seat and hugged Stephen from behind who was hugging Iris.

"What the hell are you doing?" Stephen snapped.

"HUGGING!" Xavier shouted, squeezing Stephen tightly around his abdomen. Stephen's eyes widened when he became aware that Xavier was sniffing the back of his head. "You need a bath. You should use my mother's shampoo. It's aloe scented."

"You inconsiderate-!" He let go of Iris and pushed Xavier away who nearly tripped over a pile of newspaper. He regained his balance and was in "I was trying to be nice but you asked for it" fight mode.

"Boys!" Iris felt another headache was coming.

Reviews would be great! The story development is slow but I'm still plotting out which direction to go in. Yes, Xavier has a weird fixation on Stephen. JKJK…..half way.