To Unknown Realms

Astoria Malfoy always treated Iere as if she were Astoria's own daughter, even before her sister Daphne's death. She wasn't blessed with a daughter, so she gradually came to see Daphne's little girl as the proper recipient of all the love and attention she would have lavished on a young Miss Malfoy.

After Daphne died, Astoria consciously extended herself, trying to spend as much time as she could with Iere, consulting and mentoring. A small circle, the Friends of Daphne and Iere, knew about Iere's unique basket of peculiarities, traits that would make her life complicated as long as she lived.

Empathy is generally acknowledged to be a good trait. The ability to sense another's emotional state allows the empath to tailor interpersonal transactions in their own best interests. Closing sales in business is one area where empathic ability is prized.

Iere, a natural empath, had an additional dimension, very rare, quiet possibly unique to herself. Some combination of genetic predisposition, wizarding parents, magic and chance enhanced her empathic traits, making her quite vulnerable to extreme emotional swings. Daphne kept Iere away from society throughout her childhood. Negative emotional energy could put Iere into an agitated state that only extended quiet and soothing surroundings could calm. The additional dimension was not the sensitivity. It was Iere's command of others' emotions.

Daphne theorized that Iere, after suffering an assault of disruptive emotions, began to develop a defense mechanism to save herself the pain of feeling another's anger, rage, hatred, contempt or disgust. The literature on projecting empaths was not sparse. None existed. Daphne made discreet inquiries among her healer acquaintances. The phenomenon appeared not to have been recorded or studied.

Iere could not explain how she did it, but if she was happy, fed, warm and content, everyone nearby felt the same. If an outside personality was feeling anger, Iere felt it and was inclined to project those feelings, supercharging a circle of feedback capable of producing disastrous results.

It was worse if Iere was herself the subject of negative feelings. She didn't feel at all bad about it, but she had deployed her deadly gift in self-defense.

When Daphne was turned to obsidian, had fallen to the ground and shattered, Draco, Astoria and Harry had implored the healers at St. Mungo's Hospital to do whatever could be done to put her right. It did not seem impossible, with magic. Daphne's obsidian pieces, from whole limbs to unidentifiable shards, were reassembled with what amounted to a battery of enhanced 'reparo' charms. The obsidian Daphne, sadly, did not respond to re-enervating spells. The healers tried everything they knew, even sending word to colleagues across the Channel that they had a unique problem for which they required assistance. The French specialists were good but they had never researched re-enervation of an obsidian witch. The healing literature dealt with many materials but Daphne defied all of the standard and experimental remedies.

"We are so, so sorry," said the chief of the special ward.

Neither Harry, Astoria nor Draco knew of the ward. That had been the contribution of Hermione Granger, Harry's school days comrade and an Unspeakable.

"If Ms. Greengrass had been turned to stone, granite, for example, with a conventional 'petrificus totalis' we would be on familiar ground…" said the chief.

Harry lost the conversation at that point. 'That Death Eater SOB," thought Harry. 'Obsidian.'

The repaired Daphne had been brought home, to Owl Cottage, and placed in her familiar living room.

"She would want to be here, I think," Iere said at the time.

"She would," Astoria confirmed as she dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "She loved living here, with you. You were just a baby when Mother gave Daphne the cottage. I tried to come over every day, just to help out, let her get outside for some air, do her marketing. Her heart filled up all the space inside here."

"I know," said Iere. "I miss her, but I can't feel sad. Am I awful, Auntie?"

"NO!" Astoria nearly exploded. "The last thing Daphne Greengrass would want would be for you to be sad. Don't you ever let yourself get down in the dumps. She loves you, from wherever she is. Remember her that way."

"I love her, wherever she is," Iere echoed Astoria's words as she laid a hand on the statue's cheek. "I would like to think she can feel that, even a little."

Daphne stayed on in the Owl Cottage living room. Iere worked her way through the standard school subjects, mathematics, English, history, all with Astoria's help. Never a natural scholar, Astoria proved a skilled tutor. She stayed ahead of Iere, going back to her own studies, doing better than she had on her first go-round. Astoria and Iere usually worked in the living room. Daphne presided over it all.

Iere had always been happy with Daphne at Owl Cottage. Harry told Daphne how being in the old house put him in a good mood. Daphne's explanation was Harry's first encounter with the phenomenon of a projecting empath. He didn't understand it all, but Harry liked being with Daphne at her little farm, and that was good enough.

Even though Daphne was gone, Iere continued to like it at Owl Cottage. Astoria wanted to know Iere was safe so she and Iere traded overnights between Owl Cottage and the Malfoy residence at Jasper Farm. Iere felt good when Astoria came over so her feelings bathed Owl Cottage in love and contentment, the same as when Daphne was alive.

"She has a nice aura."

Lily Potter volunteered the information, out of the blue in fact.

"Beg your pardon?" asked Iere. Lily had startled her. They had come in from a picnic for a refill of their iced tea.

Lily stood on the threshold, between the kitchen and living room, looking at the obsidian Daphne.

"Can you see auras, Lily?" asked Iere.

"Yes," Lily said.

"How…?"

"I don't know. I can't remember ever not being able to," said Lily. "I thought everyone could, then I told Grandma Molly she was all rosy. She asked what I meant and we talked about it and she told me I was seeing her aura. I didn't know what they were. It isn't supposed to be a problem, according to Dad."

Iere burst out in a laugh at the observation.

"It's not a problem, it's a gift," said Iere. "I believe a fairly small number of wizardkind have it and even fewer muggles. You can work with it and become very good at seeing others' true character, even if they are trying to fool you. Can I give you a piece of advice? Keep it to yourself, as much as you can. If you can do a handstand, people always pester you to do a handstand for them. Or they find you can see auras, they will want you to read theirs and everyone they see. Then they will tell other people and those people will want the same."

"Is that what you do?" asked Lily.

"About?" asked Iere.

"Your gift? Did Daphne teach you to keep it to yourself?"

"Yes, and yes," said Iere. "What do you know about a gift?"

"I know there is something around you and when I am in it, I feel good. I think it is connected to your aura," said Lily.

"It might be something like that," said Iere. "It is not well-understood. Even the healers can't say what it is. Are you going to tell?"

"No," said Lily. "Daphne wouldn't like that."

Lily held her hand up, flat, patting little pats on the boundaries of the invisible aura around Daphne. Iere felt a bit jumpy as she processed her conversation with Lily.

"Ready?" Iere asked.

"Yup," said Lily. "Bye, Daphne."

No one said anything but Iere felt a sensation, a whisper deep in her ear: "Bye."

Iere was thirteen when she accompanied Daphne on the disastrous visit to Nott Hall. Her emotional life went blank in the aftermath, almost as if someone had clicked a switch. Daphne and Iere had been the reciprocal of the other since Iere's birth. Astoria and their cousin, Tracey Davis, gradually filled the gap, along with Iere's belief that she could still love Daphne and the love was received.

Iere had begun to put James Potter in a special place from their first meeting. She watched him on the football pitch and was thrilled by his athleticism. He smelled really good when he was drenched in sweat, in Iere's opinion.

When she lost Daphne, Iere's emotional development was diverted. She still preferred James' company to Albus or Scorpius, not that she held anything against them. She simply stopped thinking about herself growing up, and James growing up, and going out by themselves for shopping or a meal in a restaurant.

Iere was twenty months older than James. When she was fifteen, the suspension of her emotional development was mysteriously lifted. Puberty hit. It wasn't subtle. James was thirteen. Iere had the presence of mind to raise the issue with Astoria.

"What is it like to fall in love?" she asked.

They were sitting in the Owl Cottage kitchen. Albus and Scorpius would have been there had they not been in their first year at Hogwarts.

"In the initial stages, I'm afraid it can make you crazy," answered Astoria.

Iere burst out laughing.

"Really?" she demanded.

"That is a close as I can describe it," said Astoria. "When someone has a bad case, it is affection and physical desire in combination. You don't want to eat or sleep, you just want to be with the other one, the one you love. You want them to love you and hold you, kiss you on your lips, to start, tell you you're beautiful and they love you with all their heart and soul."

"Was it like that for you and Uncle Draco?" asked Iere.

"I can't speak for Draco," answered Astoria. "He was third year when I saw him the first time, there at Hogwarts. We didn't have classes together. Daphne kept me out of the common room, mostly. She was two years older and knew the trip hazards for a young witch. She never exaggerated or steered me wrong. Draco has said he saw me as Daphne's kid sister, although a cute one, until I came back to school for my fourth year. I kind of blossomed that spring and summer. By end of term, fourth year, I was beginning to look like this. Apparently, that was enough."

"I remember four owl posts over that summer. Strictly bread and butter, no nonsense. Then we all nearly got destroyed, during Daphne and Draco's seventh year, so that year was a romantic waste. Draco and I went back, for his eighth year and my sixth. I don't remember having a long talk or deciding to date or anything. We started sitting across the table at meals. He fixed my plate. He learned my likes and dislikes. I noticed that. The other Slytherin boys sort of backed away and let us go at it, undistracted. None of the other houses wanted to make up with Slytherin until I was far too long gone, so Draco was it. Looking back it could have been Fate deciding all the moves but it didn't feel like it at the time. Draco was just this man, in my eyes, who was strong, vulnerable, talented and in need of so many things. Love and affection, sure, but affirmation and acceptance. He didn't have the best reputation, in the aftermath, although Harry says he saved all of their lives when Draco wouldn't betray them. So, before I noticed what was happening, we went from bread and butter notes to lovers. It took about fifteen or sixteen months, altogether. And I've never looked back."

"Now," said Astoria, "That wasn't a rhetorical question, was it?"

"Ahh…" Iere began, "No. I wondered because, when I see James, or think about him, I have feelings. My body…"

Iere turned red and looked away.

"It's fine, that is anatomy," said Astoria. "Does your heart beat a little faster?"

"Yes, it really thumps, sometimes," said Iere.

"Your skin feels warm? Butterflies in the stomach?"

Iere nodded 'Yes' to everything.

"Did Daphne have time to talk to you about babies, how they get started, how they get here?"

"A bit," Iere said, very softly.

"Well, then, you know about how humans, to come into being, require two parents, a man and a woman, yes?"

Iere nodded some more.

"Do you know about the man bringing one-half of what is needed, and the woman bringing the other half? How they put it together?"

"Not exactly," said Iere.

Astoria explained the configuration of men and women. She took a small piece of parchment and drew a simple schematic.

"Man," she said, pointing with her quill.

"Woman, who carries the baby until it's born, after the man uses this thing he's equipped with to put his contribution inside here, where the baby gets started," said Astoria. "Do you feel something there, when you watch James on the pitch? Do you get ideas about holding onto one another, touching, feeling him under your hands?"

Iere turned red. Red-red.

"I didn't know what it meant," whispered Iere, looking down at the table, shading her eyes with a hand. "I thought there was something wrong. Maybe I needed to see a healer."

"There is nothing wrong with you, Iere," said Astoria, taking Iere's hand, holding it. "You can look at me. You didn't do anything. Don't be embarrassed. You like James. You're a healthy woman. That's all normal. Healthy women desire the men they like. Otherwise we'd all be Amazons and live on an island and die out because we wouldn't let the men come near us."

"There are some things to consider," Astoria went on. "James is more than a year younger than you so he might not have any of these feelings at the moment. You just got them, I think? Yes, you're at the age. When he does get them, he could want to be your friend and nothing more. Understand? He could meet someone, decide she's the one, that's that."

"He likes being with me," Iere nearly growled, making it a statement. "I can feel it."

"Well, love, you have a real advantage over the rest of us, with that gift of yours," said Astoria. "There are some things you need to consider. When you turn seventeen James will not have reached the age of consent for wizards and having sex with him could cause you some serious legal problems. You are too young to start a family. Both of you are still growing and maturing so put that out of your mind. There are potions called contraceptives. You need to be on one before you start having intercourse. Understand? When you both get that feeling we just talked about, it's too late. Young people discovering the things they feel and what their bodies can do are a force of nature. Procreation is a fundamental drive, like the need to eat, drink or sleep. It's powerful magic. Few people can stand against it completely but you can learn to control it."

"Mmm…" Iere nodded.

"I sense a question," said Astoria.

"No, I just wondered, did Mum tell you what you just told me?"

"Most of it," Astoria answered as she reached across, again taking Iere's hand in hers.

Iere was going to spend the night at Jasper Farm while Astoria needed to get back to see to dinner. When Astoria was gone Iere took a glass of water to the living room and sat down. That afternoon was the first occasion, since Daphne's obsidian likeness had come home to Owl Cottage, that Iere conducted one half of a conversation, as if Daphne were right there.

She began with Astoria and how lucky she felt to have her aunt close by to look after her and be her teacher and guide. She could talk to Astoria about anything, and had just done, in fact. Astoria had filled in all the details that Daphne had not been able to confide, about men, women, feelings, how physical love is consummated between couples, the biology of reproduction and how that all ends up with a new member of the family.

Iere confessed that she felt slightly guilty because that conversation was Daphne's by right and she knew her mother would have been the best ever at it, but for the terrible tragedy Daphne suffered. Then again, Iere never forgot how Daphne's last act on Earth was to protect her from harm, she wanted Daphne to know.

Just before she wound up, Iere told Daphne about James. He had made the Slytherin quidditch team, starting as a second year. He still played football; sometimes he could make it look like ballet. He started searching for Iere as soon as the final whistle sounded. James smelled good at the end of a match, for reasons Iere could not name.

"Time to go," Iere said as she stood up. "Everything is buttoned up for the night. I'll be back to feed them first thing in the morning. Have a good night."

"Good-night, darling," said the voice.

Iere felt someone nearby, someone who felt love and contentment and a little satisfaction at having played their part well.

Iere returned to Owl Cottage the following day, called out a greeting and left to take a bath. She collected her thoughts, dried off and gave Daphne a brief on what had happened since she had departed the previous evening to spend the night at Jasper Farm.

Sue, the house elf that was bonded with the Notts, accepted the conversation between Iere and the obsidian. Elves had their own points of view and knew humans did things that made no sense to an elf.

Iere, Astoria, Sue and Lily were each aware of certain aspects of the obsidian Daphne's peculiarities, but only Iere believed she spoke to some bit of Daphne that had been left behind. One day when Lily was eleven, she negotiated with Harry and got his permission for a visit with Iere at Owl Cottage.

Iere made tea and suggested they take it into the living room. Lily knew Iere and James were becoming better and better friends. She could read James, even without the ability to see auras. Lily decided to take the opportunity offered and explore a bit further.

"Are you and James in love?" she asked.

"Ah, not as such, that is, you see, James hasn't said. Yet."

"Does he have to say it first?" Lily asked. "Because he's the wizard? Do they have to say it first?"

"Those are some advanced questions for a witch as young as you," said Iere. "We like one another. I can say that. James seems to like being with me. Together."

Lily knew Iere well, and knew she was not comfortable saying what she truly wanted to say when she hopped around from thought to thought. Perhaps if she went another direction?

"Daphne would like it, if you and James fell in love," Lily said.

Iere had her teacup to her lips, then had to put it down, quickly.

"Lily!" she said. "How can you say that?"

"Her aura, when I asked," said Lily. "It turned the most beautiful blue."

Iere managed to change the subject. She couldn't dispute Lily's observation because she could not see auras. There was a very amused, and pleased, feeling in the room. Iere decided to take a chance.

"Mum?"

"Yes, dear," said a voice.

"Lily thinks James and I ought to fall in love," said Iere.

The color drained from Lily's face.

"Is that her?" she whispered.

Iere gave a little shrug.

"I don't know," she said. "I talk. I hear answers. Can you hear her?"

Lily nodded.

The tea went on. Lily eventually entered into the conversation with Daphne. She was hesitant at first.

"Are you dead?" Lily asked.

"I really don't know," said Daphne's obsidian likeness. "I was hit with a curse and I thought I was dead. Then I didn't have thoughts for a long time. Things happened to me, at least I believed something was happening but I didn't seem to quite be there. I didn't understand what was happening. Now I think it might have been the healers working. Then it all stopped and I was in a very peaceful state."

"I think that was when we brought Mum home," Iere said to Lily. "Here. Owl Cottage. It's generally peaceful, unless the Potters come over."

Lily got it.

"Ha-ha," she said. "I can see your aura. Do you mind?"

"I know, I've heard you talking to Iere a few times," said the voice. "I don't mind, but even if I did, there isn't a lot that I could do about it."

"I don't think she's dead, exactly," Lily confided.

"I don't either," Iere agreed.

That was the chat over tea that Lily innocently passed along to Ginny, getting Ginny in a such a state she bird-dogged Harry home to register her objections to Lily spending time with the Malfoys and Iere Greengrass.

Month by month by month, Iere felt James becoming more mature and more interested in her. Much as she enjoyed her ability to have simple conversations with her mother, or her own subconscious imitating her mother, she wondered about having Daphne at home, if she and James grew into the adult relationship she hoped they both wanted.

"I'm in love with James," Iere said one night as she sat in her living room.

There wasn't a response from Daphne.

"Mum?"

"Dear?"

"I'm in love with James," Iere repeated.

"Yes, that's wonderful and I wish you well," said Daphne.

"I wondered if you are still happy here," said Iere.

"Meaning?"

Iere thought about what she wanted to say. Saying exactly what she meant, with no nuance or loose ends, might be extremely important.

"If James came over, let's say, to spend the night, would we disturb you?"

There was a very long pause in the conversation. Iere didn't hear anything for a minute or more.

"Do you anticipate making a lot of noise?"

"I don't know, I haven't any experience, do I?" Iere asked. "I've been thinking, would you like to try living with someone your own age? You really liked Harry, before we went to call on the Notts, didn't you? He is putting Potter Manor in shape. There is a lot of room and it's quiet. He'll be alone most of the year with Lily away at Hogwarts."

Iere tilled and prepared, with James, Harry and Daphne. To her mild astonishment, the seeds she planted all sprouted and grew. The Christmas night with James went very well. Iere didn't feel Daphne's presence, once Daphne moved to Potter Manor. At the same time, she couldn't be sure the voice of Daphne, if it really had all been coming from her own head, wouldn't re-establish itself in a moment of extreme emotional stimulation. In the middle of her first sexual experience with James, for example.

She needn't have worried.

The first three experiences were largely experimental and ended rather quickly. Luckily, James was an athlete and had plenty of stamina while Iere, the empath, was all encouragement and faith in her lover. The fourth went on longer, long enough but not too long, ending in a jumble of sentence fragments.

"So sweet…"

"Love you…"

"Love YOU so, so much…"

"You are so beautiful…"

"Cold? Here…"

"Mmm—Never, ever want to move…"

Even newly-minted lovers do have to move, eventually. Breakfast in the morning wasn't exceedingly late, considering. James sipped tea while Iere scrambled eggs. Sue would have done everything, if asked, but the elf understood Iere wanted to make something for her intended in front of him, with her own hands. The kitchen overflowed with happiness, to Sue's great delight.

"Now we do have to make plans," said James.

"No jumping off the pier," Iere answered as she delivered a plate of eggs. "Do you have any ideas what you'd like to do?"

"I think football is out," James said. "I've gone to the clinics and played on the select teams. If anyone were interested, I would have been brought in. There is quidditch. It doesn't pay anywhere near as well, but the fan base is so much smaller. Still, it is a good way to get exposure in the magical community. Putney has endorsements, gets in the Prophet and so on."

"Would you want to do that?" asked Iere.

"Not forever," James said.

"Didn't think so," said Iere. "I don't see that making you happy. Harry seems to be a natural businessman and you have some instincts in that direction, I'm thinking. You could manage the estate, take a university degree, study law or business. Any of that sound interesting?"

"Whose estate?" James asked.

"Either one," answered Iere, very matter-of-fact.

Sue put a bowl of cottage fries on the table so Iere put a spoonful on James' plate. James thanked her, took a bite and looked thoughtful.

"Have you thought of a joint management arrangement? One office with a plan for all of the real estate? Manors, the rentals, whatever other things we're doing? What is Nott Hall known for?" James asked.

Iere was speechless. James had wanted to be a professional footballer as long as she had known him. In the course of a single conversation he indicated he was turning away from football, might want to play some pro quidditch, but thought of it as a stepping stone to further opportunities.

"It needs looking-into," Iere said, strictly as a placeholder.

She must have looked quizzical because James thought for a few moments before he began to expand.

"I was just thinking, Draco has the business in Knockturn Alley, of course," he said. "Then there's the farm. Cut flowers! Everyone likes a bouquet of fresh flowers. Draco and Astoria have the farm, the elves handle all the outdoor work and the labor, they divide up the profit and everyone benefits. Potter Manor has fields, rented to farmers. They're muggle farmers, as far as I know. Someone has to do the business with them. How do they decide what to plant? Do they rotate the crops? What do they use for fertilizer? Would there be any advantage to coordinating the work for two estates?"

Iere's head was whirling.

"James, stop!" she pleaded. "That's a lot of hypotheticals, even though they're all very interesting. The implied propositions inside them, I mean. I thought you were focused on your NEWTS."

"I am!" James protested. "I can't think about NEWTS all of the time, though. There are these gaps between quidditch and classes and study time. Meals. Slytherin mealtime conversation doesn't require complete concentration. I have to think about something. Maybe we should talk to Harry Potter. Consult. He's in business."

Breakfast over, they took the floo to Potter Manor and found Harry looking over the prospective paddock with Lily. Everyone agreed it would make a fine home for a pony or two. Harry had a stable planned for the higher corner. James let Lily go on about ponies. They were obviously important.

"What do you do, Dad, for planning? For the farmland?" asked James when the information on ponies was exhausted.

Once opened, the discussion continued for nearly three hours.

Harry reported that he did not do a lot of planning. The farmers who leased the fields were professionals. They chose what crops to plant based on prospects for the coming year. The accounts were mainly the receipts for the cost of seed, fuel and fertilizer deducted from the total received when the crop was sold. Harry was not an expert on any of that.

James nodded and looked at Iere. She was in business. It all seemed a bit loose to James. He'd need to talk to Iere. Then they would take a look at the Nott Hall accounts.

"I think we may be getting displaced sometime soon," Harry reported that night.

He'd taken a shower and was on his way to bed, via a detour into Lady Potter's bedroom. Obsidian Daphne listened, impassive as ever.

"They came back this morning, all business. Fields, accounts, what crops to grow," Harry said. "Maybe it's all background for managing Nott Hall. Iere must be planning to live there, otherwise all the new construction wouldn't make sense."

Harry turned toward the doorway leading back to Lord Potter's and tripped on the turned-up edge of a Bukhara carpet.

"Lumos!" he heard.

Harry turned his head back toward Daphne, whose wand tip was making a brilliant yellow-white light.

"Thanks," he said.

"You must be more careful," said the voice.