September 4, 2000
Iris Sinclair was not a patient woman.
At the very moment, Iris' patience was waning for two mundane reasons: Harry was late to the meeting he had called and, more importantly, he was late with her tea.
"Honestly, Harry's flair for the dramatic is going to cost me my heart one day." Hermione grumbled as she paced ferociously.
Iris was sure she was going to end up burning holes into the carpet beneath her.
Harry's Patronus had visited each of his dearest friends at sunrise and the message that had accompanied the ghostly stag, a vague request to meet Harry in his office later that morning, had sent the Brightest Witch of Her Age into a tailspin of worry.
Iris had been nearing the end of a peaceful slumber when the stag arrived, and the sound of Harry's voice had startled her from her dreams. The apparition had frightened her so thoroughly that she'd rolled right out of bed and smacked her head against the hardwood floor.
She rubbed the small bump forming near her hairline at the thought and cringed.
Harry's Patronus had caused a similar reaction out of Hermione. She had been in the process of smoothing her thick curls while reviewing her notes on the complexities of House Elf magic, as one does when the sun is just rising, when the stag had burst through her closed bathroom door.
The sudden arrival of the apparition had sent Hermione's wand flying from her hand, and the notes that had been floating in the air in front of her were whisked out the open window and onto the street below.
She had been the second one to arrive at Harry's office, her hair pulled back in a tight knot as her attempt at taming her curls proved fruitless after Harry's interruption.
Ron had been the last to waltz through the door, his red hair desperately needing a brush through.
Ron had slept through the arrival of the stag and had needed to rely on George to relay the message. The Weasley brothers shared the flat above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ron helped his older brother run the notorious joke shop, and so Harry had taken the precaution of also sending the message to George.
George had barged into Ron's bedroom immediately afterwards, covered in the steaming hot coffee that had safely occupied a mug before the stag frightened it out of George's hands.
"Honestly, Ronald how can you stay calm at a time like this?" Hermione groaned. "My nerves are fried."
"Mione, breathe." Ron yawned as he reclined causally on the sofa in Harry's office. "He probably just had a fight with Ginny and needs an idea on how to get back into her good graces."
Ron's eyes were closed, with a pleasant smile plastered on his face, so he missed the glare Hermione sent his way.
At the sight of her best friend's ever-growing frustration, Iris moved from her spot near the front of Harry's desk and gripped Hermione by her forearms, halting her in place.
"Stop with the pacing or you're going to ruin the Mary Janes I bought you."
Hermione's eyes widened as she glanced down at her shoes.
"Oh, alright." She sighed.
Iris released her and she threw herself into Harry's desk chair.
In any other circumstance, Harry's office was one of the most comforting places to be. Most mornings, Iris would recline in the armchair next to the floor to ceiling window, downing her second or third cup of tea, while Harry read through his recent case briefings or flipped through the pages of the Daily Prophet.
The past two years with the Auror Office had turned the pair into creatures of habit.
Iris and Harry hadn't wasted any time in becoming Aurors—the two friends had been offered positions within the Office only a few months after the defeat of Voldemort and had accepted instantaneously.
Their reputations as The Chosen One and The Other Golden Girl had come with its fair share of perks as well as challenges. They were rewarded for their past and present efforts with instant job offers and luxurious offices but were also given some of the most dangerous and time-sensitive cases.
Harry and Iris were expected to do well, and there was no wiggle room for error.
"If he's not here in fifteen minutes, I have to bolt." Ron sat up and stretched his arms above his head. "George needs help restocking after the Hogwarts students tore up the shop this weekend."
"I'm with you." Iris laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder." I have case files piling up on my desk and I'm in desperate need for a cup of tea."
She would never admit it, because it would only worry Hermione more, but she too was feeling anxious.
Iris lived with Harry at 12 Grimmauld Place and it nagged at her that he'd left the townhome so early that morning that he'd needed to send his Patronus instead of knocking on her bedroom door. He'd been out of sorts lately, to an extent that she'd noticed, but not even a shared bottle of firewhiskey had been enough to get him to spill his thoughts.
Another ten minutes passed, and Hermione had just begun summoning her Patronus to call after Harry when the man of the hour burst through his office door.
Harry's cheeks were aflame and caffeinated drinks floated in the air beside him. His raven black hair stuck out at all angles and the nervous grin on his face raised Iris' concern to an entirely new level.
"Harry, what's going on?" Iris asked as she maneuvered around his desk.
"You should grab your tea first." Harry warned as his eyes darted across the room. He flicked his wand to lay the drinks on the coffee table beside him and motioned towards Hermione, "I got you a coffee too."
The tone of Harry's voice was threaded with anxiety and Iris eyed him suspiciously before surveying the cups. She recognized hers, Earl Grey tea, dash of soy milk, two spoonfuls of honey, but her brow furrowed at the remaining three.
Ron didn't drink tea or coffee, why was there an extra?
Iris turned the extra cup around and noticed it was also marked with her usual. "Is what you need to speak to us about so serious that you got me a tea for after the fact too?"
"Huh?" Harry's gaze shot towards the cup and his eyes went wide. "Oh, uh huh, yeah, that's what that is."
"Thank you?" Iris questioned, the confusion evident in her voice, as she retreated to her spot by Harry's desk.
He nodded weakly and swiped his coffee off the table, promptly chugging half of the hot contents.
Hermione rushed forward and retrieved the cup that belonged to her. "Thank you for the coffee Harry but would you please tell us what's going on? I've been a nervous wreck all morning."
"I've got about five minutes to spare and then I'm out the door, mate." Ron stood to match the stances of everyone else in the room. "George'll have my ear if he has to open the shipment of Nose-Biting Teacups alone again."
"Alright, alright I'll try to make this quick." Harry said as he pushed the bridge of his glasses back. "So, since Iris and I hit our two-year service mark for the Auror Office last month, unfortunately, that means we're prime candidates for mentorship for Auror trainees."
"Is that what this is about? Harry we've been over this, I'm not participating." Iris interrupted. "The Senior Aurors, who have years of knowledge to impart, should not be allowed to force the responsibility of training onto the shoulders of the Juniors. As if we don't have enough to prove already?"
"Iris." Harry scolded her. "Let me speak."
Her eyes widened at his tone and she held up her free hand in surrender.
"Go on." She mumbled as she drank from her tea.
Harry sat on the arm of the sofa opposite the one Ron was standing nearby. "As I was saying, we're prime candidates for mentorship but that doesn't necessarily guarantee a trainee assignment. Iris and I are unique because most of our cases are shared between the two of us."
"As result," He continued, "the Senior Aurors figured, since your opinion of the mentorship program is so widely known throughout the Office, that you could simply aid in the training of who I've been assigned."
"Harry," said Ron, "I appreciate the suspense of this conversation as much as the next wizard but please get to the point."
"I'm with Ron." Hermione agreed. "I'm sorry Harry, I know you wouldn't have called us here without good reason, but I have a meeting with the House-Elf Delegation in an hour."
"I know, and I apologize for the dramatics." Harry shifted his gaze towards Iris and the blood in her veins froze at the sight of the raw pity in his eyes. "The reason you're all here, the reason I needed you to be here, was so I could inform you of who I've been assigned in private before the papers find out."
"In private?" Iris questioned.
Harry nodded as he ran his fingers through his hair anxiously, giving the strands a mad scientist appearance.
"Iris, I'm sorry." He said before shouting over his shoulder, "You can come in now!"
The door of Harry's office opened wide and every nerve in Iris' body was electrified at the sight of the stranger that crossed the threshold. The platinum blond hair, the white collared shirt underneath an emerald cable knit sweater, the slim-fitting black trousers, and the irritatingly shiny black loafers made her feel as if she were seeing a ghost.
Her tea slipped from her fingers.
The hot liquid splashed against her tights as the cup hit the carpet and the lip popped off.
Grey met hazel when Draco Malfoy locked her eyes with his.
His lips curled to one side as he said, "Sorry about the tea, Sinclair."