Harry and Iris together? You guys will have to convince her this wouldn't be some sort of messed-up, Paradox-enabled incest. Or cradle-robbing; Iris still thinks herself as nearly four decades older or at least more mature than Harry, despite evidence to the contrary. Besides, they are both preteens! As for magic vs logic, magic wins hands down. Just try to apply logic on the canon time-turner (for the gaping flaws in its supposed internal consistency, see other story).
Disclaimer: Did Riddle, who could wandlessly control and hurt people or move objects at age ten, ever try such magic on Harry to avoid the brother wands issue? If not, I do not own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling and this story is entirely nonprofit.
...
Harry's second ever official Quidditch match was a welcome break from his ever-increasing homework load, Hermione hounding all the Gryffindor first-years into studying more, the mystery of the Philosopher's Stone, and Iris' unofficial dueling club. The last two especially had him, Ron, and Neville falling exhausted to their beds every night after long sessions of spell practice or hours of fruitless search into why such a powerful artifact had been hidden in the school and who wanted to steal it. Harry's luck being what it was, his heightened spirits lasted only until Wood worked up enough steam to roll over the entire team in his mounting Quidditch fanaticism.
"Come on Wood, this is too much." Angelina Johnson said during one of Wood's rare pauses for air. "'Catch the Snitch or die trying?' Even if Harry weren't a first year, I'd never seriously tell him something like that." The rest of the Gryffindor team nodded mutinously, finally fed up with their Captain's antics. Their practices had become veritable nightmares, especially after Slytherin beat Ravenclaw with an unprecedented margin of over six hundred points. Wood's extremes were sucking the fun right out of Quidditch lately, and that was something none of them wanted.
"Too much, is it?" The tall, burly Keeper said, about to explode if his red face was any indication. "Is that what you'll be saying if Slytherin wins the Cup, then?"
"It's... it's just the points system." Harry finally spoke up despite that drawing everybody's attention to him, making him uncomfortable. "We beat Slytherin in a game, right? We're better than them. They're just exploiting the system like they always do." He'd been thinking about that for some time now, ever since his and Iris' last talk. His cousin had insisted the House points system and the Quidditch Cup were seriously flawed, and Harry had not believed her. That had been before Slytherin's latest match and Harry's suspicion that the outcome had all been Iris' fault. He'd seen her ignore several opportunities to catch the Snitch during it, after all.
"You're right, Potter. They are exploiting the system!" Wood said with such a fierce scowl that Harry hastily took a step back. "That's why we need to do our best; we need to show them that Gryffindor talent and daring will always beat the foul tricks they use to make up for their ineptitude!" he finished, voice raised to a thunderous roar. For once however, Harry wasn't so sure. Playing the system or not, it took skill to not only prevent the other team from ending the game, but also beat them so thoroughly in the six-hour-long game. He wondered what his opinion would have been if he'd lacked any ties to Slytherins. Would he have been swayed by Wood's fanaticism and blindly joined in the standard House rivalry without Iris' warnings about all the prejudices?
"...so let's go crush them!" Wood was saying, and despite their initial reluctance the other Gryffindors seemed once more eager to fight for a victory over the Snakes... even if today's game was over Hufflepuff, not Slytherin. Frowning at his Housemates intense animosity towards the House his cousin and first friend had been sorted into, Harry followed them into the pitch.
...
And there went Potter, flying across the stadium in seconds on his Nimbus. Much as he hated the brat, he had to admit he was a great flyer for his age. Almost as great as the Black girl who'd inadvertedly blocked his efforts against the Boy-Who-Cheated-Death. Not to worry, not to worry, his Master had assured him she'd die in the fullness of time, along with the rest of her cursed family. For the moment, he had to focus on bringing about Potter's demise.
As his Master had instructed him, he focused his hatred and anger for the boy in preparation of what he was about to do. Curiously, the Dark Lord had a strange aversion to using or even teaching wandless magic. Despite all he could do with it, far more than Quirrel ever would, he was so much more focused on wielding magic through a wand. Why... no. It was not his place to question. Besides, he would hardly need his Master's aid for the next step. The Potter brat's broom was the newest, most strongly charmed and well-made magical item in the pitch. Quirrel's latest target was not, something that would help him avoid suspicion even with Snape keeping an eye on him. Smile widening, the once weak and deluded ex Muggle Studies Professor whispered a single Latin word.
"Oppugno!"
...
Harry had just seen the Snitch near the center of the Quidditch pitch, only twenty feet behind an oblivious Madam Hootch, when one of the Bludgers almost took his head off. Rolling aside at the last moment he narrowly dodged the foot-wide iron projectile, suddenly feeling very grateful toward's Wood's long hours of harsh practice and Iris' Dueling Club. Without having been pressed to his limits repeatedly, he'd never have developed the reflexes that had just saved him from decapitation.
"OK there, Harry?" Fred or George Weasley said as he batted the bludger towards a charging Gabriel Truman, the Hufflepuff Captain and Chaser, trying to force him to drop the Quaffle. Unfortunately, the Bludger flew off-course in midair, turning back towards Harry! He swerved wildly to avoid the unexpected attack... and almost fell onto the second bludger who'd also started to follow him around.
"Bloody Hell!" Harry agreed wholeheartedly with the other Weasley Twin's exclamation but unlike the redheads, he had no Beater's bat. Dodging was all he could do. He'd not even brought his wand to the pitch, since casting spells on the brooms, balls, or players was forbidden. "Hold on a minute longer, Harry. We'll deal with this." With amazing coordination, the Weasley Twins batted both bludgers aside at nearly the same time, followed them, then hit them again. The heavy, self-propelling iron spheres flew towards the trio of Hufflepuff Chasers but after a second or two turned sharply, Harry once again their target.
This was not his day.
...
"Blimey, he barely managed to dodge that one!" Ron said uneasily, as he, Neville, and Hermione watched their friend flying around the Quidditch field, Bludgers in pursuit. They weren't the only ones; several other Gryffindors were already murmuring angrily about 'sabotage', and 'unfair', and 'slimy Snakes', and fans in the other Houses' stands were beginning to notice as well.
"You... you don't think the Bludgers are c-cursed, do you?" Neville said, thinking about all the curses they'd discussed in the Dueling Club.
"I don't know..." Hermione said uncertainly then jumped as Harry managed yet one more narrow escape. "Even if someone's cursing them we wouldn't know who... oh, what wouldn't I give for Hagrid's binoculars now!" The gentle giant had come to see Harry's first game, but wasn't around this time.
"Couldn't you do some sort of spell to, I dunno, find the bad guy or something?" Ron asked Hermione frantically as one of the bludgers clipped the tail of Harry's Nimbus and nearly sent him tumbling.
"There isn't a spell to find bad guys, Ronald!" Hermione said testily. "At least not one I know of."
"Then what use are you?" The redhead spat rudely, now trying to look for suspicious-looking Slytherins with his unaided eyes.
"We're first-years. We can't know everything about magic!" Hermione said defensively. Didn't the idiot boy realize just how hurtful what he said was? "I mean, the most complex spells we learned are just basic Transfiguration..." The smart witch's voice trailed off. Transfiguration! That was it!
"Diffindo! Diffindo! Diffindo!"
With careful application of the Severing Charm, she cut a foot-long piece of wood out of the Gryffindor stands, then sliced pieces off either end. Drawing on all the Tranfiguration theory she'd studied, all the chapters of their textbook she'd read ahead of time, she performed two improvised, painstakingly slow, wood-to-glass Transfigurations. After that she performed a much easier but still complex for their level wood to metal transfiguration... and as soon as she put the three pieces together she had a crude but functional spyglass. Ignoring her sudden mental exhaustion, she used it to scan the faculty's and visitors' stands, certain no student was capable of turning the Bludgers against Harry without at least being obvious about it.
"Oh no! Professor Snape!" She said pointing out at a cluster of Professors. "He's murmuring something under his breath and has his eyes fixed on Harry!"
"That slimy git! I'll murder him!" Ron growled and for once Hermione had nothing to say against it.
"What will we do?" Neville said, suddenly fearful. He had no trouble believing the foul Potions Master was behind Harry's predicament.
"Leave it to me." Ron said with a nasty gleam in his eyes.
...
"Potter's in trouble." Lillian said thoughtfully, looking from Iris to the Gryffindor Seeker. "You two didn't have a lover's spat resulting in his being cursed, did you?"
"Why Moon," Pansy said with a smirk. "If I didn't know better I might think you were jealous."
Iris ignored the banter between the other two Slytherin girls, eyes narrowed in both calculation and anger. This had not happened to her in the previous timeline. Or rather, Dobby had done something similar... but in her second year, when he was trying to get her removed from Hogwarts. Had her prevention of Harry's broom being cursed in their first match against each other resulted in such a change in Quirrel's plans, or was this another result of Paradox? For it was Quirrel doing it, no question about that; Iris might still be well below Dumbledore's level in revealing and remote viewing spells, but a silent Supersensory Charm was still within her abilities. She'd seen Quirrel throw that Offensive Animation Jinx. The problem was how to respond.
Fighting Quirrel's curse directly would mean overpowering it and with Voldemort potentially backing him she couldn't do that wandlessly. Worse, wand or no any direct effect would be visible, with few exceptions. Blowing her cover as a not-so-innocent first year would have to be a last resort. On the other hand, she didn't need to overpower the spell on the Bludgers at all. If she timed it correctly...
"Confundo... Confundo... Confundo..."
Most spells and effects that were part of the Mind Arts had no visual cues that might warn a potential victim. Some of them worked not on just minds, but also on the intent imparted to enchanted objects or magical constructs by their creator. The Cunfundus Spell happened to belong in both categoties. Iris didn't need to break Voldemort's command on the Bludgers to attack Harry. She only needed to trick their rudimentary threat assessment that Voldemort's current host was Harry, then sit back and enjoy the festivities.
...
Ron scrambled beneath the Quidditch stands, going through maintenance passages and around a veritable forest of iron supports. Only countless hide-and-seek games with his brothers when he was little helped him navigate the labyrinthine place and avoid getting lost more than once... OK twice. But who was counting? In the end, he managed to reach the Professors' position with time to spare if the increasingly frantic commentary from Lee Jordan was any indication. Harry was still flying and Ron, now only a couple dozen feet from Snape's position, would ensure he'd continue to do so.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
With a whispered incantation, Ron levitated two of the Twins' special packages towards Snape and into his pocket. That done and with only seconds to spare, he ran away as fast as he could. In less than a count of ten, the packages exploded...
...
Aah, Quidditch had finally become enjoyable, Quirrel thought. What was better than watching Potter fly around like a Crucio'd lemming, doing eveything he could to avoid being beaten into a pulp by his bludgers? Seeing Potter's premature and violent death of course; sooner or later he'd tire, or do a mistake. A few more minutes and...
BOOM!
One of Severus Snape's pockets exploded, brown sticky debris funneled upwards by its shape. Detonating in an enclosed space, the Dungbomb had a single opening through which it could send its foul, smelly payload; upwards. It just so happened that Snape's head and torso also were in that direction. The results were predictable, and rather messy.
BOOM!
Snape's other pocket exploded as the firework inside it lit up, dancing flames spreading over the fabric at an alarming rate. A messy, foul-faced and utterly furious Severus Snape jumped off his seat, drew his wand and took a threatening step towards Quirrel. The younger Defense Professor couldn't help it; he laughed. He was still laughing when the first Bludger slammed into his leg.
...
Ten seconds before the match could be stopped and/or cancelled, Harry Potter caught the Snitch, sending the Gryffindors into a frenzy.
