September 8, 2000
Four days had passed since Draco had reappeared in Iris' life.
Only four days since the former Death Eater had infiltrated the sanctity of her workspace and the tranquility of her home. Surprisingly, those four days had passed without incident, but not without extensive effort on her part.
The past few mornings she'd made sure to wake an hour earlier than usual—not that she was sleeping all that well anyway with Draco only a floor away. The additional hour gave her the time to dress, snag breakfast, and pop into the office before the rest of the townhouse's inhabitants had even rolled out of bed.
After easily maneuvering her way out of Draco's path in the mornings, Iris had been certain that the evenings would be her downfall. However, the Slytherin had taken her by surprise once again.
The past few evenings, Draco had met his mother, Narcissa, for dinner at various restaurants located within Diagon Alley. The restaurants tipped off the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly the second the mother and son duo arrived, and a sea of photographers waited eagerly outside for the prized moment they left the building.
The Daily Prophet was delivered to the Auror Office every morning, as was Witch Weekly, so the coverage was impossible to ignore. Draco Malfoy: Looking Dashing After Being Freed From House Arrest and Is The Young Lord Malfoy On The Hunt For A Lady? were a couple of the headlines Rita Skeeter had published so far.
"Did you get the Prophet this morning?" Harry had asked her yesterday. "Or Witch Weekly? I usually snag a couple copies for Molly and Ginny."
"No." She'd feigned innocence. "The owl must have gotten lost."
She was the first one in the office that morning and the sight of Draco's toothy grin on numerous front pages had led to her discreetly using Incendio on the stack of newspapers and magazines.
The coverage of Draco ceased after his daily dinners with his mother, but he never returned to 12 Grimmauld Place until well after midnight. Iris' curiosity over his whereabouts during those missing hours had taken priority over her frustration with Harry and so she'd drawn out answers from her best friend over a bottle of Firewhiskey.
After Harry informed her that Draco escaped to Blaise Zabini's flat near Westminster in the evenings, with Pansy Parkinson in tow, Iris had tried to play off her inquiry as alcohol-induced interest, but he'd had seen right through her.
"You're a terrible liar." Harry had slurred after his fourth glass.
"So, I've been told." Iris had agreed before downing her whiskey.
As for the workday itself, she found avoiding Draco to be impossible. Harry was her go-to consult on most of her cases and, as one would expect, Draco was glued to his mentor's side. He would observe while she and Harry discussed witness reports and evidence collection and she struggled to focus with his overwhelming presence so close by.
Her distracted concentration was amplified tenfold during the two-to-three-hour period she and Harry spent discussing their case on Fenrir Greyback—a case they'd failed to close since their first months working within the Auror Office.
Draco lounged on the sofa in her office, reading through the reports on Greyback's victims since the Battle of Hogwarts, while Harry and Iris re-examined interview after interview of wizards and witches claiming to have spotted the werewolf in recent months.
It was a ritual that left the pair with strong desires for Firewhiskey.
The hunt for the remainder of Voldemort's followers seemed endless. There were less than twenty left on the run, the rest imprisoned in Azkaban or dead, but each time the Auror Office caught one Dark witch or wizard, two more seemed to escape their clutches.
It was an exhausting cycle, one that Robards was losing his patience over.
Especially since two years had passed and Harry and Iris had yet to apprehend Greyback.
Fortunately, Draco had the potential to be the saving grace the case needed.
He was able to give insight on the Death Eater cases that no one else in the Auror Office was capable of—he'd been on the inside, he knew the minds of the people they were hunting as well as a great deal of their hideouts and movement patterns.
He was putting that knowledge to the test as he examined the map spread out on Iris' desk that she and Harry used to track the numerous sightings of Greyback. The pattern was erratic, and the werewolf seemed to never visit the same place twice.
Draco's eyes flitted rapidly from one location to the next, a look of confusion crossing his face that resembled one of Iris' own whenever she stared at the map for too long.
"His movements don't make any sense. How was he sighted here and then here only fifteen minutes later? And, more importantly, why?" Draco pointed at two separate pins tacked onto the map, the first pin miles away from the second one.
"He can Apparate so it's possible, but the sporadic popping from one place to the next?" Harry crossed his arms. "He's toying with us. He knows the Office is trying to track his every move and by letting the locals spot him, he gains control over what we know and what we don't."
"We've ruled out the possibility of him using Polyjuice Potion to throw us off his trail." Iris included. "Polyjuice is already painful to use but Greyback is more wolf than human these days. It would be excruciating for any of his followers to take on his appearance, out of the rare chance they survived the process. He can't risk losing allies."
Draco scoffed. "Greyback doesn't have allies, he has subordinates."
And then his eyes found hers for the first time that morning.
His gaze trailed her from head to toe so fast she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't frozen under the weight of his silver irises. He spent a second longer on the small bit of cleavage her blouse allowed, and her cheeks warmed as he seemingly forced his eyes away from her and back to the map.
She'd chosen to wear one of her most flattering outfits that morning. A silk, scarlet blouse that she paired with high-waisted black trousers that clung to her curves and flared out at the ankle. She'd chosen a pair black pumps to compensate for her small stature and, around her neck, lay a golden chain threaded through a hawk pendant.
The hawk pendant rested above the swell of her breasts, accentuating the attribute.
The hawk was the form of her Patronus. After successfully performing a corporeal Expecto Patronum her Fifth Year at Hogwarts, Hermione had gifted her the necklace in congratulations and she'd treasured it ever since.
"Forgive me." She mocked with a hand over her heart. "Next time I'll be sure to use the correct term when discussing the cronies Greyback surrounds himself with."
Draco's eyes remained on the map, but his lips curled into a smirk at her sarcastic tone.
Iris wondered if his face would get stuck like that one day.
"He's resumed his decades old habit of infecting Magical and Muggle children alike with lycanthropy." Harry said, resuming control of the conversation. "Twelve victims in the past two years, one every other month on the night of the full moon."
"He chooses children living in highly populated cities in single-parent households." Iris picked up where Harry left off. "He hasn't ventured out past the United Kingdom which is an obvious power play. He revels in the fact that he's within our grasp and yet we still can't figure out which city he'll hit next."
"He'll strike again next month." Harry finished. "The full moon is on Friday the 13th."
"How fitting." Draco frowned. "And you've questioned every Death Eater that worked closely with him? The ones aware of which cities he's frequented in the past?" He retreated from the desk. "I wish I knew more but he only visited the Manor a handful of times."
"We've questioned almost all of those in custody. Unfortunately, the ones eager to talk were low-level—young fanatics that were blinded by prejudice and only joined up months before the end of the War." Harry explained. "The highest-ranking Death Eaters, the ones that could've provided the answers we need, were killed at the Battle of Hogwarts or they're still on the run, protected by political connections."
"Almost all?" Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry. "I'm not an idiot, Potter, spit it out."
Chills shot down Iris' spine when she noticed the clear discomfort on Harry's face.
"Your father has refused to speak with the Auror Office since his incarceration." He announced. "And, as a significant member of Voldemort's inner circle, the information he undoubtedly holds is being wasted while he remains silent."
"I see." Draco grumbled, an expression of exhaustion transforming his features as the revelation of why he'd needed to be actively involved in this conversation became clear.
Iris knew that look of his all too well and she hated the way her heart twisted at the sight of it.
"Harry." She warned, her eyes darting towards her best friend. "Don't you dare."
"Don't I dare, what?" Harry hissed. "Lucius Malfoy is the only option we have left, or would you rather let Greyback infect another child next month? Are you so blinded by your ego that you can't put your hatred aside to save innocent lives?"
"You think this is about my ego?" She snarled. "Where do you get off criticizing my ego? You're the Chosen One, and you think I'm the one with an ego? You're deflecting, Harry."
"I'm the one deflecting?" Harry laughed. "You're the one that's barely spoken to me outside of work because you'd rather drown in avoidance. You're the one that has refused this path from day one because you couldn't handle it. Time's up Iris. We've run out of options, and Robards and Kingsley are already on board."
"Uh, Potter, Sinclair, should I cast Muffliato or does this happen often?" Draco asked.
"Not now, Malfoy."
"Shut it, Draco."
Draco held his hands up in surrender.
"I've barely spoken to you because I'm finding it difficult to look at you without feeling manipulated and betrayed." Iris spat and Harry flinched at her words. "You agreed to train Draco fucking Malfoy as an Auror and moved him into ourhome without even a single word about it to me beforehand!"
"Even I can admit that was bit dodgy." Draco mumbled.
"Malfoy, shut up!"
"Sod off, Draco!"
Draco's eyes widened, drifting over towards the fireplace for safety, and Iris resumed directing her fury towards Harry.
"At least now I know why you've been going behind my back, why you've disregarded my feelings at every turn. All of this, the agreeing to train Draco, the secret meetings with the Office, Robards, and Kingsley." She laughed. "It's all so you can fuel your reputation as the Ministry's Golden Boy, it's all because you're terrified of becoming irrelevant."
Harry's eyes darkened.
She'd hit a nerve.
Instead of addressing her, he shifted his gaze towards Draco. "Malfoy, this is ultimately your decision. Kingsley has communicated with the Aurors on guard at Azkaban and your father has agreed to an interview as long as you're present."
"You're unbelievable." She shook her head disbelievingly. "Do you realize what you're asking?"
"Iris." Draco called and her eyes left the fury growing in Harry's emerald orbs for his grey gaze. The intensity of his eyes focused solely on her was a wave of icy water that cooled the blood boiling in her veins, but it did nothing to calm the resounding, rapid beat of her heart.
"I'll go." He announced, shifting his focus to Harry. "After I was released from Azkaban, the Wizengamot offered my mother and I the opportunity to visit my father once a month if we so desired. We refused it but the offer still stands regardless." Draco's face was determined, unyielding. "I'll go but even I won't be able to get him to talk if he isn't offered something in return."
"That's been discussed." Harry stated. "It would be foolish to not expect Lucius to request immediate release from Azkaban in exchange for his information. A contract for a life sentence of house arrest is undergoing review within the Law Offices on Level Five."
"Fuck." Draco clenched his jaw tightly. Iris watched as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders tight with tension as his mind turned over the choices laid out before him.
If he didn't agree, the Office could accuse him of being weak, of not being a suitable Auror candidate. They could even go as far as accusing him of not wanting Greyback to be captured out of sick loyalty to a former comrade.
If he did agree, he could be accused of only choosing to aid in the investigation so that his father would go free—but that would be the least of his worries. With Lucius imprisoned, the monster of Draco's childhood was kept behind lock and key. If that monster was released, it would only be matter of time before Lucius weaseled his way back into Draco's life.
"Fine." Draco exhaled, opening his eyes. "I'll need time to move my mother out of the manor, if it comes to that, but fine. I'll play into the Ministry's meddlesome hand once more."
"No." Iris announced. "No. There has to be another way."
"For fuck's sake Iris!" Harry threw his hands in the air. "Malfoy has agreed to go, right in front of you! It's done! Now, I suggest you put your personal issues aside before Robards has you taken off the case entirely."
"Before Robards has me taken off the case or you?" She pointed at Harry. "Who are you? I don't know this person standing in front of me, this person that has kept me in the dark for far longer than I could've ever anticipated. How could you work behind my back for god knows how long and still be able to sleep at night?"
"I did what needed to be done and I will continue to do so. The plan to crack Lucius has only been in play since I agreed to become Draco's mentor and I'd planned on involving you until I saw how easily you reverted back to drowning yourself in scotch." Harry spat.
"As for who I am? I'm an adult and you should try acting like one. Maybe then you won't feel the need to rage when things don't go your way. Maybe then you won't feel the need to sneak out of your own home before sunrise just to avoid what, or who, you've been running from for years."
Iris stumbled backwards, the anger laced within his words drawing a physical reaction from her. She was at a loss as she turned her back on Harry, the click of her heels the only sound bouncing off the walls.
"Don't be here when I get back." She announced over her shoulder. "Either of you."
Without another word, she turned the handle on her office door and slammed it behind her.
Iris mindlessly found herself within an elevator headed towards the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Once on Level Five, she headed for the International Magical Office of Law, seeking out Hermione.
After finding Hermione's office empty, Iris drifted further down the corridor until she spotted her through the glass walls of a conference room. She was swinging her hands energetically as she drew the attention of the other witch to various documents and pictures tacked on the corkboard beside them.
It wasn't until she knocked upon the conference room door and then entered that she realized just who Hermione had been in such an intense discussion with.
Painted red lips curled in amusement as Pansy Parkinson sneered, "Iris Sinclair. What a pleasure."
"Oh, my day just keeps getting better." She groaned.
The rumors were wrong.
The Ministry had hired not one, but two of her former adversaries.
Hermione spun around her heel to face her. "Iris? What're you doing up here?" Her warm, brown eyes widened at her frazzled state. "What's wrong? You look as angry as you did when Seamus tried to slip you that love potion."
Iris visibly cringed at the memory from Sixth Year. "No love potions were involved but I am going to kill Harry. I'm going to kill Harry and I'm going to make sure he stays dead. I haven't figured out how I'm going to do it just yet, but they do say third time's the charm." She glanced at Pansy over Hermione's shoulder. "Also, either Pansy Parkinson is behind you or I'm hallucinating."
Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I think you should sit down."
She placed a hand on Iris' back and steered her towards a swivel chair.
She eyed Pansy suspiciously before sitting down, annoyed to find that the Slytherin had somehow become even more beautiful since their years at Hogwarts. Her black bob was as shiny as ever, not a strand out of place, and her tall, lithe figure had retained its Veela similarities.
Pansy had spent a year on house arrest for her support of Voldemort's uprising, and since her release, the witch had stayed out of the public eye. Her parents, former Death Eaters, had not fared as nicely and were currently serving a twenty-year sentence in Azkaban.
"So, no, you're not hallucinating. Pansy and I are working on the proposal for international House Elf sanctuaries together." Hermione sat in the chair to Iris' left. "Her first day was Wednesday, but she's already been a great help in locating abandoned Pureblood family manors for renovation."
"That sounds wonderful, Hermione—" She side-eyed Pansy and then whispered to her best friend. "But you do remember that she stuck chewed gum in our hair Third Year and charmed it so no blade could cut through it? We had to burnit out."
"Sinclair, I'm standing two feet away." Pansy grumbled. "And I have ears."
"It was a learning experience." Hermione remarked before arching an eyebrow at Pansy. "One that I have not forgotten."
Pansy smiled weakly at Hermione's blatant display of ferocity.
"Kids, they're the worst." She mumbled as she took the seat to Iris' right.
Hermione shifted her gaze back to Iris and squeezed her hands. "Tell me everything."
Iris inhaled deeply before relaying the entirety of the conversation to Hermione—and Pansy. The Slytherin's chin was propped up on one hand as she listened intently, and Iris was wary of the way the witch's eyes twinkled at the dramatics of it all.
"You're both in the wrong." Hermione declared nonchalantly once she finished her retelling. "Harry more so, I think, but still."
"Hey!" She exclaimed. "That's not how this is supposed to go! You're supposed to say Iris, I'll help you bury the body, and when people ask about Harry's disappearance, we say he took an early retirement and moved to Iceland."
"Iris." Hermione leveled her gaze. "I'm not going to sit here and lie to you."
"No, I didn't expect you to." She massaged her temples. "If I wanted someone to fuel my irrational behavior, I would've gone to see Ron."
"You and Harry need space." Hermione stated. "You work together, you live together, and taking the recent situation into consideration, any hostility or resentment that may have already been brewing underneath the surface was amplified tenfold."
"You're right."
"I'm always right, you know this by now." Hermione smirked. "You and Harry aren't going to be able to resolve this until you come to terms with why his antics have upset you so deeply."
"Oh Merlin, this just got so much more interesting." Pansy crooned.
"Nope. Not the time." Iris warned.
"You're upset because Harry left you in the dark, but that's not the reason the two of you just got into a screaming match. That's because you feel like Draco is being manipulated by the Ministry and you're more worried than you'd care to admit about him having to visit his father." Hermione declared flat out.
Hermione was right, but Iris could not believe she thought the appropriate time to dig beneath the surface was in front of Pansy Parkinson. "Could we not do this right now?" She motioned to Pansy.
"Discreet, Sinclair, very discreet." Pansy snickered.
Iris dropped her head to the conference table.
"Iris, you can't keep avoiding—" Hermione started but Pansy interrupted her.
"Granger, Sinclair's right, we shouldn't talk about this right now. We need alcohol and lots of it if we're going to dive into her intimacy issues."
"I do not have intimacy issues." Iris scoffed, picking her head up off the table. "And when, exactly, did the three of us become a we?"
"Draco may not be the most pleasant person to be around, and even though he despises the sight of me most days, I care about him. I care about him and he cares about you which makes me inadvertently involved." Pansy shrugged. "So, call me biased, but I happen to agree with your anger towards Potter completely."
"Are you positive I'm not hallucinating?" Iris asked Hermione.
Hermione shushed her.
"You and Granger are going to cancel your pub night with the boys and once five o'clock hits, we're Apparating to my flat and getting drunk off our asses." Pansy continued, boring her eyes into Iris as she did so. "I can't spend another night brooding with Draco and Blaise. I need to be around other women."
"And we'll pick up Ginny along the way."
"Really, Granger? Must we?" Pansy's lips curled with distaste.
"Gum." Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Uncuttable gum and the smell of burning hair."
Pansy gulped. "And we'll pick up Weaselette along the way."
Iris was once again at a loss for words so the only sign of agreement she could give was a nod.
And she had the oddest feeling that getting drunk with Pansy Parkinson may be exactly what she needed.