September 10, 2000
Iris spent the rest of the evening pouring over Regulus Black's inner thoughts.
A fierce desire to uncover the truth had rooted itself within her after Kreacher's dismissal and, once she'd retrieved the boy's journal from the box, she retreated to her bedroom to study its contents while Ginny raced downstairs to grab some glasses and a bottle of wine.
The redhead returned to Iris' bedroom with all she had left for as well as two plates of Sunday roast—Kreacher, after running into Ginny in the kitchen, had sent her up with the food and disappeared upstairs without a word.
The House-Elf's continued brush off bothered Iris greatly, but she compartmentalized it for another day. She needed to ask the right questions to get any answers out of Kreacher and to figure out what those were, she had to spend some time with Regulus Black.
Hours passed as she read through the half empty journal with Ginny at her side.
Night had encompassed London, and Iris' bedroom, by the time Harry returned from his visit to Hogwarts and found the pair of witches situated on the floor near the fireplace—illuminated by the roaring flames were their figures hunched over the journal, as well as the outlines of the empty plates and half-filled glasses of wine.
"What sort of madness—Someone care to explain why the two of you are reading and drinking in the dark?" Harry asked incredulously as he eyed the journal and the wine glasses.
"Shush, I'm almost done!" Iris held up a finger as she reread the words of Regulus' final entry.
Harry's eyes widened and he looked to Ginny for an explanation.
"Hey, this is all Iris." Ginny held her hands up in surrender. "I'm just along for the ride."
Ginny's words amplified the concern that had crossed Harry's face and he sauntered over to where the girls were sitting, flipping the switch on Iris' ceiling light before doing so.
"The light! It burns!" Ginny shielded her eyes with her hands as Harry settled on the floor next to her. He chuckled at her outrage and plucked Ginny's wine glass from beside her, downing the rest of the liquid.
Iris slammed the journal shut and exhaled deeply. "Finished."
"Finished with what, dare I ask?" Harry eyed her suspiciously.
"Harry James Potter. Do not look at me like that." Iris glared before waving the journal towards him frantically. "You see this? This is the last journal Regulus Black kept before he died and it's outstanding. Everything we thought we knew about Regulus, everything Sirius told us, it wasn't even half the story."
"And by that you mean what exactly?" Harry asked.
"This is going to sound like the ramblings of a mad woman so stay with me here." Iris warned. "I believe that, from what lies within these pages, that I could convince Robards and Kingsley to put a hold on the Lucius Malfoy deal."
Harry's lips parted in disbelief. "Iris I thought we were past—"
"We are, I'm not." She interrupted him. "I've been racking my brain, looking for a solution to this mess we've been thrown into, and a possible saving grace quite literally landed in my lap. Just give me a minute of open-minded, undivided attention—that's all I ask."
"That's all you ask? You're talking about involving our bosses after what? A few hours of light reading?" He shook his head exasperatedly. "I thought after our conversation earlier that you'd come to terms with the fact that we've reached our last resort."
Iris had expected this reaction and side-eyed Ginny, signaling the redhead to come to her aid.
"Harry, hear her out." Ginny laid her hand on Harry's knee. "It's the least you could do."
"The least I could—" Harry scoffed as his eyes darted to meet Ginny's.
Ginny leveled her gaze at Harry, arching an eyebrow daringly, and Iris watched as the tension slowly released from his shoulders, the lines of frustration on his face softening as he sighed and intertwined his fingers with the redhead's.
"Go on, you loon." Harry shifted his gaze back to Iris. "Tell me everything."
Iris grinned victoriously.
"This journal includes entries from Regulus' Seventh Year at Hogwarts up until days before his death. Within these pages are what you would expect from the journal of a seventeen-year-old Death Eater—he writes about the tasks he was assigned by the Dark Lord, his distaste for nearly all things Muggle, and his desire to leave a lasting legacy upon the Wizarding World."
Harry opened his mouth to speak but Iris raised her pointer finger to halt him.
"But that's not all." Iris' lips curled with delight. "Once you get past the first twenty pages or so of Pureblood mania, the tone shifts. He starts writing about someone other than himself and the Dark Lord—a Muggle-Born witch. A witch he becomes infatuated with."
"A Muggle-Born? Are you sure?" Harry asked disbelievingly. "Regulus' loyalties may have shifted, but he was still a Death Eater, still a Black. He never seemed the type to befriend Muggle-Borns, let alone fallfor one."
"Positive. I know it doesn't make sense. That's why I couldn't stop reading." Iris opened the journal and flipped to an entry from October of 1978. "But listen to this, this is the first entry that mentions her."
October 20, 1978
The Dark Mark still resists the Disillusionment Charm I cast on it every morning.
It feels as if my arm is being forced into the flames of a fire as I camouflage it against my skin—scorching my veins and boiling my blood.
I can't seem it get it under control as I did last year, but I consider it a necessary pain for what I must accomplish.
For the task which is proving more difficult than expected to plan because of a certain Potions Professor's direct interference.
I pretend that I don't notice the way his eyes roam over my forearm when the skin is exposed, searching for the Dark Mark. I answer vaguely when he asks questions regarding my future after Hogwarts, never cementing myself with one lie.
I thought resuming my position as Slytherin's Seeker would throw the old man off my scent, but his suspicion remained. As result, an extra pair of eyes watches me closely now—a Mudblood, an atrocious girl that I am all too familiar with, that he has assigned as my tutor for the N.E.W.T.S.
I've fallen behind in my courses and her overbearing, obnoxious presence is my punishment.
I feel her glare on me at this very moment. She sits across the Great Hall, idly stirring her tea while she watches me scribble. I've caught her before, but she never looks away—not a hint of embarrassment ever crossing her features.
She's graduating early, April instead of June, if I've heard correctly.
It seems she can't stand to be stuck inside this castle for a minute longer than she has to be.
I understand entirely.
It's blatantly obvious how lost she is without Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon at her side, without that revolting werewolf trailing her every step, without Potter, Pettigrew, and my traitor of a brother testing her last nerve.
It's unfortunate we're on opposing sides. I could've tried to convince the Dark Lord she was one of the unworthy worth saving, as Severus continues to try to do for Lily.
She's just as clever, just as brilliant. More so.
The thought of such a deed would've never crossed my mind a year ago.
I must try to keep my distance, however impossible that may be.
Iris finished reading the words out loud to Harry and Ginny, reaching the massive ink blot smeared at the end of the entry.
"One of the unworthy worth saving" reeks of blood superiority." Harry's face twisted with disgust. "This girl, she was friends with my mum? With my dad? With Remus, Sirius, the whole lot? If that's true, why is this the first we're hearing of her?"
"I don't know. I don't even know her name, Regulus never writes it—not once." Iris shrugged her shoulders. "I don't think she ever became a member of the Order, not officially, but that still doesn't explain why the mention of another witch being that close with your mother, your father, and their dearest friends can only be found within the writings of a dead man."
"It's odd, odd enough for an investigation of some sorts." Harry agreed. "But I'm struggling to see why this should be presented to Robards and Kingsley. Why would this put a halt to the deal? What are you planning?"
"I want to find her." Iris declared. "I want to know why her identity is such a secret, I want to know if she was put into hiding or if her memory was wiped. Most importantly, I want to know if she's still alive."
"Iris—"
"No. Listen." She pleaded. "Regulus told her everything. Everything. He's vague about the specifics in the journal, saving the details for her ears only, so just imagine what she knows. She could know the locations of Death Eater hideouts from the First Wizarding War, hideouts that Greyback could be using this very minute."
"Iris, she most likely died during the War." Harry stated bluntly. "If she knew that much, I don't see how Regulus could've kept that secret from Voldemort."
"That's the thing—Regulus was a trained Occlumens and Legilimens." Iris pointed out. "His thoughts wouldn't have been privy to Voldemort's tricks. He writes about practicing relentlessly with none other than Snape himself, especially after his relationship with this girl developed."
"You realize this plan you've concocted is all based on a hunch, on hope?" Harry sighed. "The only evidence you have is in your hands."
"For now. The only evidence she has is in her hands, for now." Ginny chimed in. "There were earlier journals she could've delved into but—"
Iris pressed a finger to her lips to quiet Ginny and whispered, "But that's another issue entirely."
"Why are you whispering?" Harry's eyes widened. "What other issue?"
"Kreacher was with Ginny and I when I read Regulus' last entry for the first time." Iris whispered. "When I asked him about the girl, he lied and claimed not to know a thing. I aggravated him when I pushed further, and he vanished downstairs."
The transition to a hushed tone was essential—Kreacher's ears were enormous and Iris was aware that the House-Elf had probably heard more than she or Harry had ever intended him to.
"And then," Iris continued, "close to forty minutes before you got home, I asked Ginny to grab the rest of the journals, out of the slim chance they had some more answers—"
"But when I passed by the study, I caught Kreacher throwing journal after journal into the fireplace." Ginny added. "As soon as he noticed me watching, he wiggled his skinny little fingers and the door slammed in my face."
Ginny mimicked the way Kreacher's fingers moved as he spelled the door closed and Iris snickered at the sight.
"Kreacher is very private." Harry explained. "And you know how he gets when it comes to the Blacks, Sirius excluded. He's sensitive and burning the journals was probably his way of saying goodbye, his way of leaving Regulus with an ounce of privacy left."
"I suppose." Iris pondered. "But he's still a lead. One of four, in fact."
"You have leads? As in plural?"
"Well, I have to have a plan of action if I'm going to present my findings to Robards and Kingsley."
Iris could see Harry's intrigue growing by the minute. "Alright, then, tell me. Who are your leads?"
She smirked and held up three fingers. "First up, Andromeda Tonks—Regulus' first cousin. She's a longshot because she was a few years older but it's worth a try." She laid a finger down. "Second, Professor Slughorn, Head of Slytherin during Regulus' entire education at Hogwarts and, according to Regulus' own words, the one that assigned the Muggle-Born witch as his tutor."
Iris laid a second finger down as she reached her last lead—the one she was most anxious to avoid.
"Lastly, Narcissa Malfoy." Iris grumbled. "Possibly the most promising lead besides Slughorn as she was only a couple years older than Regulus and was very present during the First Wizarding War." She laid her last finger down. "She's also one of the last living members of the Black family besides Andromeda and—"
"Draco." Ginny finished for her.
Iris nodded solemnly.
"Andromeda would be glad to have you visit, but I agree she might not know much." Harry replied. "When you stop by Hogwarts to speak with Slughorn, it wouldn't hurt to pay McGonagall a visit as well—The House ghosts might also know a thing or two." He rubbed his free hand over the scruff on his jaw. "Narcissa, on the other hand, well—"
Harry knew that contacting Narcissa would once again tear open the old wounds that tied Iris to Draco. It would also mean giving Draco a significant role within her scheme and she was rightfully hesitant to do so.
"Are you giving me advice?" Iris smiled. "Are you, dare I say, consulting? Because that would mean—"
"You've got me. The case has potential, far-reaching potential, but I'm invested." Harry admitted. "Together, we can send Patronuses to Gobards and Kingsley in the morning. We should be able to use our 'We Saved the World' card one last time to get them to rearrange their meetings for tomorrow."
A rush of euphoria washed over Iris and she hurled herself at Harry.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She exclaimed as their bodies collided with the wooden floor. "I have a feeling about this Harry, I can't explain it but I know I'm on to something."
Ginny barely escaped Iris' ambush, freeing her hand from Harry's and scrambling away quickly.
Harry laughed into her ear. "I've never counted you out before, Iris Sinclair, and I don't plan on starting now."
September 11, 2000
The next morning Iris felt as if she were floating down the stairs of 12 Grimmauld Place. After she'd convinced Harry to join forces with her, she'd stayed up for hours refining her plan—adjusting her points so they achieved a sense of formality that was required when speaking to the Head of the Auror Office and the Minister of Magic.
If she could sway Robards and Kingsley, if they allowed her a few uninterrupted weeks to pursue her leads, she felt confident that her efforts would lead to something great.
And it was that blind confidence, that haze of joy, that had temporarily caused her to forget about her houseguest—the one that slept a floor beneath her, the one that exited his bedroom as she examined a scuff on her heel, and the one whose bare back she smacked into before she could stop herself.
Iris jolted backwards, nearly tripping over her own feet as she did so.
Draco spun around, his irritated expression morphing into a mocking smirk as he rested his eyes on her.
"Watch where you're going, Sinclair."
"I—" Iris huffed, losing her train of thought at the sight of Draco bare-chested in a pair of black joggers. Her eyes trailed the scars inflicted by Sectumsempra, resisting the urge to run her fingers across the flashes of pure white against his pale skin.
"You have got to get the staring under control."
Iris glared as his hubris tore her from her thoughts. "I was not staring."
"Liar." He eyed her amusingly.
"We wear clothes in this house, you know." She spat.
"This is how I've dressed for breakfast every day since I moved in." He retorted. "You would know that if you hadn't been sneaking out at the crack of dawn just to avoid me."
"I was not sneaking out. I was exercising a strong work ethic." Iris slammed her shoulder into his as she passed by. "How was your grandmother's? Did you spend the weekend drowning in self-loathing? Stomping through the corridors and cursing the portraits of your ancestors?"
Draco laughed loudly as he followed Iris to the staircase.
"Ask Rita Skeeter." He jeered.
Iris' brow furrowed at his vague reply, but she refused to indulge her curiosity and the pair spent the rest of the trek to the kitchen, and the entirety of breakfast, in silence.
When Iris swung open the door to her office, The Daily Prophet was waiting atop her desk destined to ruin her day.
She left her office door open behind her as she headed towards her desk, only having a few minutes to spare before she and Harry were to meet with Kingsley and Robards. After sending their Patronuses to the Ministry that morning, the pair had managed to snag a measly half an hour with their bosses.
Iris laid her purse on her desk and snagged the Prophet, preparing to the throw the paper in the trash bin when a minor headline on the front page caught her eye.
"Draco Malfoy Courting in Austria? Rita Skeeter Tells All!"
"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding." She grumbled.
Draco's voice replayed in her mind: Ask Rita Skeeter.
Iris tore open the newspaper with a flourish and flipped through the pages until she found the article.
"Draco Malfoy Spotted Strolling the Austrian Countryside with Bride-To-Be?"
I, Rita Skeeter, have received trustworthy intel, and photographic evidence, that Draco Malfoy is using his newfound freedom to search for a bride! Pureblood custom states that a young lord, or lady, must marry before their 21st birthday and as Mister Malfoy celebrated his 20th birthday this June, he has less than a year to follow familial tradition. A respectable match with a dignified magical family would do wonders in restoring social graces to the Malfoy name.
Pictured below are Mister Malfoy and Miss Astoria Greengrass strolling through the cobblestone streets of Feldkirch, Austria. A source close to the pair states that Mister Malfoy has been planning to whisk Miss Greengrass away for a romantic getaway ever since his release from the Ministry's ever-watchful eye. The former members of Slytherin House were well-acquainted throughout their education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and are rumored to have grown close through a routine exchange of love letters and gifts during Mister Malfoy's eighteen month sequester within his ancestral home.
Could this be love? Does Mister Malfoy have other ladies lined up behind the scenes? I sure know a few that would be interested! Stay with me, Rita Skeeter, over the next few months as we follow Draco Malfoy's journey to find the perfect bride!
The photographic evidence Rita mentioned in the beginning of the article were moving pictures of Draco and Astoria, arms linked, as they passed from stall to stall of an outdoor marketplace.
A knock at her office door drew Iris' attention away from the article. "Iris, it's Harry."
"Come in." She grumbled as she shifted her gaze back to the photographs. She was close to vomiting as she watched Astoria smile upwards at Draco while he looked pointedly at the camera, his signature sneer curling onto his face.
"Can I borrow your Prophet? I know you never read that sort of trash, but I—" Harry halted mid-sentence as he noticed the newspaper clutched tightly in Iris' hands.
"Nice try." She briefly met Harry's eyes over the paper before returning to the article. In the next photograph, Draco stood at Astoria's side, a protective arm looped around her waist, as she leaned forward towards a florist, smiling brightly as he handed her a red rose.
"Did you know he was going to be entertaining this weekend?" She asked Harry as her eyes trailed to the final photograph. She grimaced as she watched Draco push Astoria's hair behind her ear and kiss her cheek as they sipped on lattes at an outdoor café.
"Believe it or not, Malfoy and I tend to keep our conversations purely professional." Harry arched an eyebrow as Iris raised her eyes to meet his. "I'm not that interested in his personal life."
"Professionalism is difficult when the Prophet seems to be obsessed with his every move." Iris crumpled the newspaper in her hands. "And the last thing I expected to see this morning were pictures of Daphne Greengrass' little sister hanging from his arm."
Without waiting for Harry to respond, Iris stormed towards the fireplace and chucked the newspaper into the flames. With glee, she watched as the photographs of Draco and Astoria burned to nothing but ash.
"Did that help?" Harry asked cautiously when she spun back around to face him.
"No." She frowned. "If you could be so kind to spread throughout the Office that I will hex the next witch or wizard that makes the mistake of placing the Prophet on my desk I would greatly appreciate it."
"You can't go around hexing people. You won't make friends that way." Harry's voice was threaded with sarcasm.
"I don't need new friends. You lot are more than enough for me to deal with on a day-to-day basis." A thought occurred to Iris as she placed herself at Harry's side. "Speaking of, where is your delightful ward?"
"He's meeting us outside Kingsley's office. I noticed the Prophet's headlines when we Floo'd in and I wanted you to have the chance to clear your head before we head up to Level One."
Iris smiled weakly. "You're a good friend—the best actually."
"I have my moments." Harry offered Iris his arm. "Now, shall we?" He smirked as he held his head high and squared his shoulders, mimicking his exact stance from the night of the Yule Ball.
Iris had been Harry's date that evening, leaving Ron out as the only one of their group of four to not to stride in with one of the Triwizard competitors. The Weasley had waited until the last possible minute to look for a date and had ended up with Parvati and Padma Patil.
"We shall." Iris laughed.
And then she looped her arm through Harry's, and he led her out the door.
The meeting wasn't going as well as Iris had hoped.
As to be expected, Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror Office, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, veteran member of the Order of the Phoenix and the Minister of Magic, were not particularly keen on the idea of using Ministry resources to follow a hunch.
"I just need three weeks." Iris pleaded. "Three weeks to delve into Regulus Black's history and follow up on my leads. I swear that if I discover not more than a few specks of dust, I will escort Lucius Malfoy out of Azkaban myself."
Kingsley, seated behind his desk, sighed deeply at her request. "Iris, do you understand the magnitude of what you're asking? My job is to secure the safety of the Wizarding community and, at this very moment, you're asking me to put that on hold. You're asking me to endanger the lives of children—magical and Muggle alike."
Iris gulped. "Yes I am."
Robards, who was standing behind Kingsley, laughed dryly. "Sinclair, you have bigger balls than half the wizards in our Office."
She smiled weakly—unsure whether or not the Senior Auror meant that as a compliment.
"And while I admire your passion, I refuse to postpone Lucius Malfoy's questioning." Robards continued and Iris' heart sunk. "If your leads fall short, it hardly gives the Office enough time to organize before the full moon. It's too much of a risk."
"I—" She glanced briefly at Harry standing beside her, the panic rising within her chest as her crafted plan seemed to be slipping through her fingers. Their eyes met and the reassuring solidarity he directed towards her centered her once more.
"I understand your concerns." She asserted confidently, shifting her gaze back to Kingsley and Gawain. "But what if instead of three weeks, you give me two? And what if the initial questioning of Lucius Malfoy still goes as planned but we wait to use the house arrest incentive until my investigation furthers or fails?"
Draco, who had remained stoically silent as he stood behind her and Harry, scoffed loudly. "So, you expect me to visit Azkaban out of the hope that my father will hand over information out of the kindness of his heart? That is idiotic."
Iris spun around to face him. "Idiotic, yes, but it would buy the Ministry time."
"No, it would buy you time to follow this recent obsession of yours." Draco spat. "This is barely even a case—it's the scribblings of a mentally disturbed teenager that has been dead for nearly twenty years."
"I agree with the latter half of that statement." Kingsley announced and Iris spun back around on her heel to face the Minister. "You forget, Iris, that I knew the people you speak of and Regulus Black was quite unwell towards the end."
"He—" Iris began but Kingsley held up a hand to signal that he was not done speaking.
"However, your past is proof enough that when you follow your instincts, you produce results. With your concessions, as well as the approval of the Auror's Office foremost and a few conditions of my own, I'm willing to take this gamble." Kingsley clasped his hands together and glanced towards Robards. "Gawain?"
"Who am I to disagree with the Minister of Magic?" Robards expressed with a tone of slight displeasure before resting his gaze on Iris and Harry. "But this is your last chance. Pursue your leads, interview Lucius Malfoy, I don't care how you do it but I want Fenrir Greyback locked in a cell in Azkaban. Close this case—you will not have your reputations to fall back on this time around."
"Sir." Iris and Harry agreed without hesitation.
"Minister, you can't be serious." Draco called out.
"I am quite serious, Mister Malfoy, and you would be careful as to not question my authority again." Kingsley's mouth was set in a fine line and Iris resisted the urge to snort at the hilarity of Draco being chastised by the Minister of Magic.
"As for the conditions I mentioned earlier, Kreacher will be questioned. You may do it at your own discretion, but you will have to put your sentimentality aside." Kingsley continued. "Iris, you will continue to work on your minor cases while reporting your findings regularly, and the outside progression of the Greyback case will be handled by Harry and another Junior Auror appointed by Gawain."
Robards crossed his arms over chest. "I believe Auror Thomas is suitable enough to pick up the slack."
"That would've been my suggestion." Kingsley agreed.
"Dean?" Iris exclaimed. "You're going to hand over my portion of the case to Dean Thomas?"
Harry cleared his throat and Iris' wide eyes darted towards him.
The message on Harry's face was evident: You're doing well. Don't fuck it up.
"Is that going to be a problem?" Kingsley arched an eyebrow.
Iris shifted her gaze back to Kingsley and feigned a smile. "Not at all, please continue."
Draco snorted behind her.
"Dean will assist Harry for the next two weeks—he needs the experience." Kingsley leveled his gaze at Harry. "Now, I understand expecting you to catch Dean up on a case that has been years in the making, while also training a new Auror, is a lot to ask. To relieve any added stress, Iris will handle Draco's training for the next two weeks and he will provide any aid she requires with her leads."
Iris' rising joy was demolished instantaneously.
"Uh, care to repeat that last bit for me? I think I heard you wrong."
Kingsley shot a pointed look Iris' way and Harry chuckled faintly to ease the tension. "What Iris means is that she and I are very appreciative for your and Auror Robards' support on this endeavor."
"Yes, uh thank you, very much but—" She noticed Harry's warning expression out of her peripheral but ignored it. "Harry is more than capable of training Draco while working with Dean. I'm going to be traveling to various locations and planning my trips around Draco's personal schedule could be prove to be quite taxing."
"My personal schedule?" Draco questioned haughtily.
"Your courtship of Astoria Greengrass?" Iris jeered over her shoulder. "Rita Skeeter seemed thrilled to stumble upon that gold mine of gossip."
"Sinclair, you don't—" Draco growled.
"Iris Sinclair." Robards barked, interrupting Draco. "Either you and Mister Malfoy adjust to the Minister's arrangement or this meeting has been nothing but a waste of time."
Iris' eyes flitted between Kingsley and Robards and her throat tightened at the resolve present on each of the men's faces. Her desire to discover the underlying truth outweighed any cost she would have to pay along the way. If she could handle being on the run for almost a year, she could handle Draco Malfoy following her every move for two weeks.
"I'll make it work. Thank you, Minister, Auror Robards. I won't let you down."
"It's settled." Kingsley nodded. "Now, the three of you will inform Auror Thomas of what we've discussed, and Iris will take over Draco's training starting tomorrow." Kingsley glanced over at Draco. "When will you be visiting your father?"
"Thursday, at noon." Draco responded. "But, Minister, Auror Robards, if I may, I have a request of my own."
Robards sighed exasperatedly. "Yes?"
"Auror Sinclair must accompany me on Thursday or I refuse to go."
"What? That's not happening." Iris protested.
"If that's the only way?" Kingsley questioned and Draco nodded.
"Iris, you will go." Kingsley motioned towards his office doors. "Now, the three of you, get out. Gawain and I did have a meeting planned before you decided to force yourselves into our schedules."
Iris' jaw went slack.
"Minister, Auror Robards." Draco bid the men farewell before striding out of Kingsley's office.
Iris hurriedly expressed her gratitude towards Kingsley and Robards once more before chasing after the Slytherin.
She caught up to him near the lifts and spun him around harshly to face her.
"What are you playing at?" She snarled.
"If I'm going to be forced to follow you around while you delve into the secrets of my family's past, I'm going to force you to do something you never thought you would have to." Draco growled. "Visit my father and practice restraint."
Draco's eyes darted towards her hand and he wrenched his arm out of her grasp. He stormed towards the doors that lead to the stairwell and left Iris standing alone by the lifts.
Dear Andromeda,
I hope this letter reaches you well. How are you and darling Teddy? I haven't seen the pair of you since Harry's birthday. Is Teddy's hair still changing color every time he sneezes?
I wish I could say I was writing under lighter circumstances, but I've been assisting Kreacher as he sorts through the last of Regulus' belongings and I've discovered a curious bit of information in one of your cousin's journals. I would greatly appreciate it if we could meet for tea this week so I could ask you a few questions.
Your nephew would also be joining me.
Sincerely,
Iris Sinclair
After Iris finished penning her request to Andromeda, she visited the parliament of owls the Ministry used for their post. The owls were housed separately from the Ministry building in an otherwise average-sized tower similar to the one at Hogwarts.
After tying her letter to the leg of an owl and sending the bird on its way, Iris couldn't help but feel the weight of her endeavor upon her shoulders.
She was once again meddling in the affairs of a lost boy born into a family of Pureblood mania.
Her meddlesome behavior had nearly destroyed her last time.
Iris could only hope she was better prepared this time around.