CW: A panic attack is described within this chapter's flashback.
May 16, 1993
Iris had barely slept a wink in eight days.
For eight days, she'd tossed and turned trying to sleep at night, managing a measly hour or two of shuteye at most. As soon as the sun began to rise, she bolted from Gryffindor Tower, wanting to spend every waking minute with Hermione in the Hospital Wing.
Hermione, and Hufflepuff Penelope Clearwater, had been the latest victims of the Heir of Slytherin. They'd been attacked by the monster terrorizing Hogwarts outside the library and the girls laid petrified in the Hospital Wing as result.
Iris felt torn apart by guilt at the sight of Hermione paralyzed on the hospital bed, but the guilt worsened when she wasn't at her friend's side. She felt that if only she'd gone with Hermione to the library, as she did most Saturdays, instead of the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match with Ron, maybe this wouldn't have happened—maybe she'd could've stopped it.
It was irrational thought, but she couldn't seem to shake it.
Harry and Ron were just as worried about Iris as they were Hermione, but they didn't have to say so—she could see it in their eyes when they looked at her.
Before classes, she would race to the Hospital Wing and ask Madam Pomfrey if she needed any assistance in taking care of the petrified students. The witch had initially shooed Iris away but after she'd returned the next morning, and the morning after that, Pomfrey had conceded and taught her how to prepare healing salves.
After classes, she spent hours working on coursework or reading leisurely at Hermione's bedside. Ron and Harry would join her occasionally, but the boys were too distracted by their pursuit of the identity of the Heir of Slytherin to be much comfort.
She'd been close to finishing a crossword puzzle, one from a Muggle newspaper her parents sent her every Sunday morning, when the boys visited the Hospital Wing and begged her to join them for dinner.
She'd given in but only because they'd looked so pitiful.
Harry was beside her downing a goblet of pumpkin juice while Ron gnawed ravenously on fried chicken across the table. Iris' plate was bare as the smell of every serving platter on the table turned her stomach inside-out.
She swirled around the water inside her goblet aimlessly as her eyes roamed the rest of the table.
Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan were doubled over in laughter at the sight of Neville with the entirety of his goblet of apple cider all over his sweater, Fred and George were passionately planning their last prank of the school year on Slytherin with Lee Jordan, and Lavender Brown was promising to teach Parvati how to Dutch braid when they got back to the Common Room.
It all felt too normal for Iris who was overwhelmed by Hermione's notable absence.
None of it felt right.
Not when Hermione had escaped death by a mere glance.
Not when the Heir of Slytherin's monster was still on the loose.
Not when Iris had this horrible inkling that the worst was yet to come.
She stood suddenly as her breathing shallowed.
Her lungs were gasping for air but with every inhale she felt nothing but aching emptiness in her chest. The flames of the candles that hovered above blurred before her eyes. The walls of the Great Hall inched towards her at a rapid rate.
"Iris?" Harry's voice sounded miles away.
He reached out a hand to steady her, but she stepped away from him.
"I—I—I just need some fr—fresh air." Iris stumbled over her words as she made eye contact with Ron. The Weasley boy had mirrored her movement and jumped to his feet the same moment she had.
Iris' gaze shifted from Ron to Harry frantically.
"Don't follow me, please." She pleaded, her voice wavering unsteadily.
Harry opened his mouth to speak but Iris spun on her heel and bolted from the Great Hall before he had the chance. She ran through the corridors searching for the doors that led to the Clock Tower Courtyard, almost falling to her knees as she burst through to the outside.
She nearly cried out in relief at the smell and taste of the night air, steadying herself against a pillar.
She closed her eyes as tears slipped down her cheeks. She tried to recall the feeling of her father embracing her tightly, of the warmth that spread through her at the sight of her mother's smile, but it didn't have the same calming effect when they weren't right there beside her.
"You're having a panic attack and it's okay." Iris whispered out loud. "It's okay to feel this way. Just breathe. In, out. In, out."
"Sinclair? Is that you?"
Iris spun around at the sound of her surname to find Draco Malfoy hovering by the entrance into the castle.
"No, no, no. Not you." She managed. "G—go away."
Draco's eyes widened with astonishment, clearly not expecting to find her in such an unstable state.
"What are you doing out here?" He slowly moved towards her.
"That's none of your b—business." She crossed her arms across her chest. "Leave me alone."
"No. I'm not going anywhere." The silver of Draco's eyes steeled as he bore his gaze into her. "Come, sit with me." He nudged her shoulder gently with his as he brushed past, heading towards the fountain directly ahead.
Iris' gaze darted towards the entrance as she considered running back inside to find Harry and Ron. The boys were undoubtedly waiting for her to return to the Great Hall, if she could pull herself together long enough to—
No.
Everyone gathered, all of the students, and the professors, would notice the shine of her eyes as tears continued to pour down her cheeks. They would notice the frantic rise and fall of her chest as she struggled to stabilize her breathing.
No—she refused to be seen as weak, as vulnerable, by hundreds.
She'd rather risk vulnerability in front of just one person, even if that person was Draco Malfoy.
Her gaze shifted towards Draco who had yet to sit down but was instead watching her closely as if he could sense her inner debate. He arched an eyebrow when their eyes met and motioned towards the fountain, beckoning her to rest.
Without another thought, her feet seemed to move of her own accord as she traced his footsteps.
He stood watch as she collapsed near one of the eagle statues built into the four corners of the fountain, her body's exhaustion visible. She trained her eyes on her shoes as he sat down beside her, her chest continuing to heave as she struggled to contain her wheezing.
"Look at me." Draco commanded with that haughty tone of his.
She reluctantly met his eyes and the intensity she found within his grey orbs startled her. She hiccupped as a cry found itself trapped within her throat, the embarrassment of her raw emotions on display in front of a boy that despised her amplified her anxiety tenfold.
"Sinclair, tell me about your parents."
"What? N—no." Her throat tightened. "They're M—Muggles."
"Really? I was under the impression that you were descended from centaurs." He snorted. "Just tell me. What are their names?"
Iris narrowed her eyes as she stared at his unrelenting face, searching for any sign of malice or spite, only to discover that none was present.
"M—Martha a—and Peter."
"And what do they do for work?"
"W—what? Why—" She pondered only for Draco to level his gaze at her, silently demanding that she answer the question.
She sighed exasperatedly. "My mum t—teaches primary school and m—my dad is an electrician."
"I'm not even going to ask what an electrician is." He shook his head. "What do they look like? Paint me a picture."
Iris' eyes widened with surprise, but she answered his inquiry without contest.
"U—uh I have my mum's curls, but hers are more tightly wound. She's on the taller side, but that doesn't stop her from wearing heels nearly every day. I inherited her complexion, but hers is a darker shade that seems to glow under sunlight." Iris smiled at the memory that crossed her train of thought. "I used to swear to my dad that she was an angel when I was younger."
"And your father?" Draco pressed on.
"He's s—short but strong. When he hugs me, I never want him to let go because my anxiety just melts away. He has this ridiculous ginger hair that sticks up at all angles, and he's Scottish so that's where I get my short temper from—I hope that doesn't offend the Scottish people as a whole." Iris snorted. "And he's white, so white that he burns if he stays outside too long on a cloudy day."
Draco laughed loudly at that last bit and the sound of his laugh drew Iris out of the trance she'd lost herself in. As the images she'd painted of her parents faded from her mind, she realized that not only had her tears ceased but that her breathing had also stabilized.
Draco Malfoy, of all people, had just helped her through a panic attack.
Iris tore her eyes away from Draco and rested her gaze on the water within the fountain. She ran her fingers through it, relishing the rush of cold on her skin, and for the first time, she noticed that the fountain was full of coins—Knuts, Sickles, and even the occasional Galleon or British pound.
Draco cleared his throat loudly. "I've seen owls leave droppings in that water you know."
"Yuck." Iris jolted her fingers out of the fountain, frowning as she wiped the water off on her robes. "Why did you follow me out here?" She asked, leveling a glare at Draco who was watching her curiously.
"I didn't follow you. It was pure coincidence that you happened to be out here right when I decided to get some fresh air." He scoffed. "In any other circumstance, I would've run at the sight of you, but I was—" He hesitated before finishing his thought. "I was worried."
"Worried?" Iris repeated disbelievingly.
"Yes."
"About?"
"You, obviously." Draco grumbled. "I've been worried about you."
"You followed me out here because you've been worried about me?"
"For the love of Merlin, I didn't follow you out here. Don't make me repeat myself." His face twisted with discomfort. "I've noticed you rushing off to the Hospital Wing to visit Granger every day and only someone on the brink of lunacy would want to spend all of their time with petrified bodies and Madam Pomfrey."
"You've been watching me?" Iris questioned incredulously.
"No. I noticed you." Draco groaned. "I'm a very observant person. I notice things."
"You notice things. And people, obviously."
"Yes."
"So, you're not keeping an eye on me because some teeny tiny part of your cold heart cares about what's happening to the Muggle-Borns?"
"No. I don't care about the Mudbloods." Draco spat. Iris flinched at his use of the derogatory term, but he pretended not to notice. "I don't particularly care for you either if that's what you're getting at."
"So, you've kept an eye on me for days because you don't care? And you talked me through a panic attack because you don't care? Because I'm also a Muggle-Born and you couldn't possibly care about someone with dirty blood?" Iris interrogated. "Did I get that right?"
Draco opened his mouth to respond but shut it abruptly, and a brief silence ensued before Iris' nagging curiosity got the better of her.
"How did you know what to do?"
"What do you mean?" He eyed her suspiciously.
"How did you know that talking about my parents would help me through my panic attack?" She asked. "It's not exactly common knowledge for people our age."
Draco refused to meet her eyes as he said, "My mother."
"She has panic attacks?"
"Yes." Draco spat, his posture rigid with defiance. "If you dare to spread that around—"
"If you thought I was the kind of person who would do that, you never would've told me in the first place." She interrupted. "And you don't get to do that you know? You don't get to pick and choose when to treat me with decency."
"You have a skewed perception of decency." His brow furrowed. "You're not special, Sinclair. I just happen to tolerate your presence easier than that of Granger or Creevey."
"You are infuriating."
"I know."
"You could be a good person." Iris declared. "I think you might be already, underneath all that bravado."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"What I mean to say is—thank you."
Draco met her eyes and smiled weakly before shifting his gaze upwards.
Iris followed his gaze and goosebumps rose on her skin as her eyes locked onto the infinite number of stars that decorated the night sky. She felt comforted, felt seen, as she basked in their light.
"You see that constellation to the left?" Draco asked as he pointed towards a jumble of stars.
Iris squinted as she tried tracing the stars he was pointed towards, but she was unable to see the constellation clearly. Ron had tried to show her a few constellations the summer before, but her eyes just couldn't latch onto the various collections of stars like others could.
Draco scooted closer when he noticed her difficulty. "May I?"
He glanced purposefully to her hand resting on her knee and her heart raced as she realized they were so close they were almost touching. She wasn't sure what otherworldly force possessed her to agree but, before she could comprehend the act, she gave him permission.
Draco enveloped her hand with his own and Iris flinched slightly at the contact. Draco's hand over hers felt radically different to the times Ron and Harry had brushed their hands against hers by accident.
He raised her hand and used her pointer finger to trace a line of eight stars that formed a looping tail. At the end of the tail was an arrangement of four stars that formed an uneven square.
"It almost looks like—" She began softly.
"A dragon." Draco released her hand. "It's the Draco constellation. It's my namesake." He eyed her out of his peripheral, the ghost of a grin on his face. "It's tradition within my mother's family to name their children after constellations, stars, all that. That's why I tore the Weasel to pieces last year when he laughed at my name."
"Oh." Iris furrowed her brow as their eyes met—she was struggling to understand why he was telling her all of this. "What's your mother's name?"
"Narcissa. She's named after the Greek god Narcissus." He answered. "My mom's oldest sister, my aunt Bellatrix, is named after the third brightest star in the Orion constellation. She has another sister named after the Andromeda constellation, but I've never met her."
"Why have you never met her?"
"She married a Mud—" Draco cleared his throat. "She married a Muggle-Born and my grandparents disowned her."
Iris' heart sunk.
There it was.
That disgusting notion of blood superiority that was ingrained within Draco's bones.
After noticing the disappointment that had crossed her features, he hurriedly followed up with, "I can show you more constellations—if you'd like."
Iris was witnessing a side of Draco that he kept secret, one that he kept locked away for only a few to see. She knew the moment was fragile, that if she waited too long to answer it would shatter before her eyes. She reveled in the delicacy; of the power he'd unknowingly placed in her hands.
"Sure." She responded and she pretended not to notice the way his eyes lit up at her agreeance.
Draco enveloped her hand once more to direct her towards various constellations. The pair spent the next fifteen minutes that way, but it felt like only seconds had passed when Harry and Ron raced out into the Clocktower Courtyard looking for Iris.
Draco let go of her hand with haste and she stood as her best friends neared the courtyard steps.
"Harry, Ron, long time, no see." She laughed softly.
Draco snorted and mumbled under his breath, "Good one, Sinclair. Good one."
Harry and Ron's eyes darted in the direction of her voice and Ron's jaw went slack when he noticed Draco at her side. "What's Malfoy doing out here?!" Ron shouted. "Were you bothering her? Iris, was he bothering you? Get up here Malfoy, I'll wipe that smirk right off your face."
"Ronald! I'm fine, stay there." She assured. "That will not be necessary."
Ron narrowed his eyes at Draco but remained at Harry's side.
Iris glanced towards the Slytherin boy briefly, the smirk that Ron had wanted to be rid of so desperately still present on Draco's face. The mask had been thrown back on, the vulnerability he'd reciprocated replaced with cold disregard.
"Goodnight, Sinclair." He said, before returning his eyes to the stars, effectively dismissing her.
Unnervingly stung, Iris left Draco's side to join Harry and Ron up the steps, nudging her way in-between the boys.
"Are you alright? Did he say anything to you? Should I have set Ron loose?" Harry asked, his tone laced with concern.
"No." Iris smiled at Harry as she swung one arm around his shoulder and the other around Ron's. "We were just looking at the stars."
September 12, 2000
Dear Iris,
I would be lying to myself, and you, if I didn't express my concern at dredging up my family's past. The Black family has always prided itself on privacy and old habits die hard even when you've been disowned.
With that being said, I trust that you would not ask unless it was absolutely necessary. I would be glad to answer whatever questions you may have but I can't promise to have the answers you're seeking.
Harry wrote to me recently and informed me of my nephew's reappearance in your lives. Narcissa has purposefully kept Draco from me for twenty years, and while that first meeting is bound to be uncomfortable, I welcome the thought of him accompanying you.
I also welcome the prospect of conversating with two adults.
Don't misunderstand me, I adore my grandson, but conversation with a toddler can only go so far. Teddy's hair has ceased changing color, but he has discovered his ability to shift his height. It makes placing the cookie jar out of his grasp near impossible.
I apologize for the late notice but how does Thursday afternoon sound? Four o'clock for tea?
With love,
Andromeda Tonks
Iris read Andromeda's letter over and over as she ruminated over the best way to respond.
She peered over at Draco from the top of the parchment every so often as she did so. Today was his first day under her supervision and it had consisted entirely of mumbled conversation and sporadic hand motion direction.
While Iris had opted to sit at her desk to read through her post, Draco was across the office perched on the edge of the sofa that faced the fireplace. As she peered over the parchment she traced lines of his frame as he hunched over, immersing himself in Hogwarts student records from the seventies.
The light from the flames illuminated his pale features in a way that made her stomach flip.
Iris had assigned Draco the task of writing down the name and House of every witch that had been a part of Regulus' graduating class. It was entirely possible that the witch's records had been scraped entirely, but Iris found small satisfaction in giving Draco such a menial task.
She cleared her throat to grab his attention and Draco slowly shifted his gaze from the document in his hands towards Iris.
"Yes, oh superior one?"
"Watch it." Iris warned and a smirk curled onto his face. "Your aunt is eager to meet you." She waved the letter the air and the amusement fell from his face. "We'll be Apparating near her house Thursday at four."
"How wonderful." Draco remarked sarcastically. "I'll be meeting a disowned relative for the first time right after I visit my abusive father in Azkaban. I can't wait."
"Look at it this way." Iris began. "You and Andromeda already have one thing in common. You're bound to get along."
"Oh yeah? And what's that?" He arched an eyebrow.
Iris' lips twisted mischievously. "You both have a thing for Muggle-Borns."
Draco's jaw went slack with surprise.
And then there was a knock at Iris' office door.
It was near sunset as Iris and Hermione strolled down the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley arm in arm. The girls were supposed to meet Harry and Ron at The Dragon's Tooth pub for drinks and were popping in and out of shops along the way.
"You were the one that jinxed Pansy?" Hermione scolded her. "She was trapped in the lift for an hour! One hand was stuck in her hair and she pressed as many buttons as she could with her other until all of her fingers were stuck. A Curse-Breaker had to be called in to free her!"
"I may have played around with the Sticking Charm a bit." Iris smirked. "I know it was petty, but she deserved it after the stunt she pulled Friday night. I still can't believe she locked me out on the balcony with Draco."
Pansy had been the one to knock at Iris' office door earlier that afternoon, out of the hope that Iris would accept an apology over the events of Friday night. She'd been surprised at the sight of Draco lounging on the sofa but Iris had been quick to explain that Draco was in her office by force and not from a reconciliation that Pansy had tried to thrust upon them.
Pansy had groveled and Iris, more out of the desire to get the Slytherin out of her office, had let the witch leave believing that she and Iris were on good terms. However, out of pure petty impulse, as soon as Pansy's back had been turned, Iris had cast a variation of the Sticking Charm on the witch so that everything she touched would stick to her like superglue.
It wasn't Iris' fault Pansy didn't manage to touch anything but her hair before she got into the lift.
"That was so childish." Hermione lightly slapped Iris' arm.
"I just admitted it was petty." Iris scoffed. "I thought that would earn some points with you at least."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"And where were you when I was locked outside?" She exclaimed, turning the tables on Hermione. "Oh, that's right you were too busy trying to get into Ron's pants!"
Hermione gasped. "I was not!"
"Spare me!"
"Iris Sinclair!" Hermione unlinked her arm and shoved Iris away from her. "I'll have you know I practiced a severe amount of self-control that night. Ron threw himself at me once George went to bed and I put a stop to it."
"Only because you knew with all that alcohol in his system it would be a one and done situation."
Hermione gasped. "You're incorrigible!"
She tried to give Iris the silent treatment as they passed a few more shops but once they arrived outside Flourish and Blotts, Hermione's effort was rendered futile.
"Oh, I think the newest biography on Ignatia Wildsmith is out!" She squealed. "I'll be quick, wait right here!" Before Iris could protest, knowing just how dangerous it was to leave Hermione alone in a bookshop, her best friend bounded away.
Iris sighed as she leaned against the glass window of the shop next door.
She would give Hermione five minutes to speak with the clerk and then she was going in after her.
She observed the crowd while she waited for Hermione to return. The Alley was less crowded than usual, and for that, she was thankful. Less people meant there was less of a chance for her and Hermione to be recognized and the last thing Iris wanted was a spot on the front page of The Prophet.
As if on cue, the shopkeeper of the Magical Menagerie across the street waved at Iris through the window and she politely waved back, despite never having an actual conversation with the witch.
Not a moment afterwards Iris noticed a particularly tall man with hair so blond it was almost white headed in her direction. A young woman had her arm looped through his on his right and a middle-aged woman walked closely to his left.
Draco Malfoy was headed in her direction with Astoria Greengrass and Narcissa Malfoy in tow.
"Oh no, no, no, no." Iris' eyes frantically scanned the Alley for somewhere to bolt. If she crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie, she would be sprinting directly into their eyesight and Draco was bound to notice her. He'd probably already spotted her, that man had the eyes of a hawk.
Iris had only one option.
She rushed towards the entryway of Flourish and Blotts at the same moment Hermione exited the bookshop with a wrapped book in hand. The two witches collided with a harsh thud and Hermione shrieked from surprise. "Iris, what the hell?"
"No time to explain just go back inside!" Iris gently grasped Hermione by the arm and tried to shove her back into the bookshop, but the witch refused to budge. "Draco with—we have to go—they're so close move it!" She pleaded.
"Draco what? What is wrong with you" Hermione's eyes widened. "We're going to be late meeting Harry and Ron!"
"Hermione—" Iris was close to pushing her best friend inside the shop when a voice cut her off.
Draco's voice drawled from behind her. "Sinclair and Granger. What a coincidence."
Hermione's lips formed an 'o' shape at the sound of Draco's voice.
"Help me." Iris whispered to her best friend before spinning on her heel to face Draco—and Astoria and Narcissa.
She smiled sheepishly at the group to prevent her jaw from hitting the street at the sight of pure luxury displayed in front of her.
On Draco's left, Narcissa's honey blonde hair was curled to just below her chin and her lips were painted a crimson red. Strings of pearls adorned her ears and were clasped around her neck—Iris remembered pearls as the Malfoy matriarch's jewelry of choice.
Narcissa was dressed in a cream wrap jacket that she'd paired with a pair of ivory trousers and stilettos, and Iris was sure she'd never seen the woman in such light clothing before.
To Draco's right, Astoria was dressed in a cropped pink suede jacket with a white turtleneck underneath. The turtleneck was tucked into a black and white gingham mini skirt, revealing her endlessly long legs, and her feet were adorned in black leather ankle boots.
Astoria's hair, the same honey blonde shade as Narcissa's, hung nearly to her waist in loose waves.
Iris was instantly aware of the dark wash jeans and burgundy sweater she'd thrown on before meeting Hermione. Her hair was tied back in a bun, a few curls had escaped as was the norm, and she'd even switched from heels to trainers for the remainder of the day.
She regretted switching out of her heels as Narcissa and Astoria towered over her short stature. Standing in front of the fabulous women in Draco's life made her feel ridiculously inadequate.
"Draco." Hermione greeted him, looking every bit as startled as Iris. "Mrs. Malfoy." Hermione smiled faintly towards Narcissa and then focused on Astoria. "And you are?"
Hermione knew Astoria, she was just preparing herself for the Greengrass girl to be just as malicious as her older sister.
"Astoria Greengrass." Astoria smiled brightly and extended her hand to Hermione whose eyes widened once again with surprise. "I was only two years below you at Hogwarts, but I was in Slytherin, so our paths didn't cross much. It's so lovely to formally meet you."
Hermione eyed Iris from her peripheral as she shook Astoria's hand. "Uh huh. It's nice to meet you as well."
Astoria's warm smile shifted from Hermione to Iris. "It's wonderful to meet you too, Iris. To this day I am green with jealousy over that beautiful dress you wore to the Yule Ball." Astoria sighed dreamily and extended her hand to Iris. "I remember my jaw dropping as I watched you walk into the Great Hall with Harry Potter."
Iris glanced at Draco who was watching the exchange with amusement. Narcissa, on the other hand, was staring her down with a cold calculation that she'd seen on Draco's face one too many times.
It as if Draco's mother was daring Iris to spit in the face of Astoria's kindness.
Iris narrowed her eyes the slightest bit at Narcissa before shaking Astoria's hand and meeting the young witch's pale blue eyes with her own hazel orbs. "Thank you?" She said, unable to hide the confusion from her voice.
"Do you still have it?" Astoria asked.
Iris furrowed her brow. "Still have what?"
"Do you still have the dress?"
"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I do." She answered. The dress was neatly folded into a box in the corner of her closet. "I could never fit into it now, of course, but I'll never be able to let it go."
"That's great news!" Astoria exclaimed. "Maybe one day I can convince you to let me adore it from up close."
Iris feigned a smile as she said, "Uh-huh, maybe so."
She felt Draco's eyes on her, and her eyes glanced towards his briefly to find an intensity there that caused her to physically take a step backwards.
"We were just heading to dinner. Would the two of you like to join us?" The hint of an underlying objective was threaded through Narcissa's polite tone.
Draco looked to his mother with confusion, but Astoria was all for the idea. "I would love that! You must come with us." The witch squealed as she tightened her grip on Draco's arm and leaned further into him.
I'm going to be sick. Iris thought.
"I'm sorry, but we're meeting Harry and Ron at The Dragon's Tooth." Hermione explained, taking charge of the situation once she noticed the nauseous expression on Iris' face. "Our presence was demanded." She laughed lightly trying to brighten the mood.
"Sounds serious." Astoria laughed. "Well, I imagine we'll run into each other more often now that Draco is working at the Ministry."
"Yes, another time then." Narcissa feigned disappointment but Iris noticed the relief in her eyes. Was she relieved that she wouldn't be photographed with two Muggle-Borns? Or was it only Iris she had the issue with?
Narcissa met Iris' eyes and it felt as if the woman was scrutinizing every inch of her, judging her posture, the hole in the cuff of the sweater, the smudges of mud on her trainers. Iris was convinced that Narcissa's issue was, in fact, with her, and that wasn't surprising in the least.
"Darling, we should get going or we're going to be late for our reservation." Narcissa laid a hand gently on Draco's arm.
"You're right. We should let Iris and Hermione get to their pub night." Draco laid his hand upon the one Astoria was using to grip his arm. Iris' blood boiled at the way his hand enveloped hers and when her eyes glanced towards Draco once more, his eyes glinted with mischief as he stared at her.
It was well past the time to go.
Iris linked her arm with Hermione's, in need of the comfort and safety being close to her provided. "Have a lovely evening." She ground through her teeth as she began dragging her best friend in the opposite direction.
"Miss Granger, Miss Sinclair." Narcissa waved to the pair of retreating witches. "As always, it was a pleasure."
"Goodbye!" Hermione managed to blurt out while trying to keep up with Iris' pace.
"Enjoy the pub!" Astoria called out gleefully.
"Sinclair!" Iris glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Draco's voice and his lips curled maliciously once he had her attention. "Don't wait up for me tonight. I'm staying over at Astoria's."
Her cheeks flushed at the underlying meaning of his words and he winked at her before breaking eye contact.
The image of Draco's body molded against Astoria's as they slept in her bed raced across Iris' mind, forming a pit in her stomach.
Hermione had to tighten her grip on her arm to prevent her from running after Draco and tackling his smug arse.
"Bloody bastard." She grumbled as she burned her eyes into the back of his blond head.
She needed a pint desperately.
"Don't wait up for me tonight. I'm staying over at Astoria's." Iris mocked as she drowned herself in another shot of firewhiskey. "No, I won't wait up. In fact, I'm going to transfigure the charm on the front door so no one with Malfoy blood can enter without being shocked by a thousand volts."
"Uh, I hate to break it to you, but only I have power over that charm." Harry pointed out as he sipped on his pint of ale. "Being Lord of the Townhouse and all that does have its perks."
Ron snorted loudly as Iris continued her rant without any acknowledgement of Harry's words.
"Why was she so fucking nice?" Iris complained as she pushed her empty shot glass to the center of the table and retrieved her pint of ale. "No one can be that beautiful, that nice, and a Slytherin."
"You sound ridiculous." Hermione snickered.
Iris kicked her shin under the table.
"I heard from Ginny that Astoria was one of the few Sixth Year Slytherins that stood up against the Carrow siblings while the Death Eaters had control over Hogwarts." Ron added.
"Great so she's also a hero." Iris grumbled as she emptied her pint. "She's a beautiful, long-legged, hero which means Draco doesn't deserve her."
She then raised her hand signaling to the barkeep that she needed a refill.
"And why is that? Dare I say is someone feeling jealous?" Harry's lips curled with delight over the rim of his pint.
"Harry James, you stop while you're ahead." Iris growled as the barkeep refilled her pint with a swish of her wand.
Harry laughed loudly and darted away from the empty peanut shells Iris threw his way.
"So, 'Mione, what trouble are we getting up to for your birthday?" Ron wiggled his eyebrows.
"No trouble. I just want to have a small get together at my flat." Hermione explained. "I want you three there, obviously, Ginny, George, Neville, Luna, maybe Cormac McLaggen if I'm feeling frisky."
Ron choked on his ale and Harry pounded on Ron's back as he tried to regain his ability to breathe.
"That wasn't funny." Ron snarled.
"I thought it was hilarious." Iris snickered.
Hermione clanged her pint with hers in gratitude.
"Listen up you lot." Harry slammed his empty pint down on the table. "I've got something to share with you."
Ron and Iris exchanged worried glances.
"I knew you were up to something, Harry Potter." Hermione's eyes twinkled.
Harry chuckled as he retrieved a velvet box from a front pocket of his jeans. He placed the box on the table and snapped open the top to reveal one of the most beautiful rings Iris had ever laid her eyes upon.
A pear cut emerald, surrounded by a sparkling halo of diamonds, rested upon a shining gold band.
Iris squealed loudly with delight.
Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with one of her hands.
"Harry—I don't know what to say—" Ron snatched the box off the table and held the ring up to the light to examine it. "The band is much too small, we'll have to get it resized, but yes! Yes, Harry I will marry you!" He beamed.
"Don't ruin the moment, you git!" Iris laughed as she punched Ron in the arm.
Harry retrieved the box from Ron's hands. "I'm sorry Ron but I had this made with a different Weasley in mind." Harry laughed. "If it isn't already obvious, I'm going to ask Ginny to marry me."
Iris buzzed with excitement. "She is going to freak out when she sees that honker."
"Freak out? In a good way? Or bad? Do you think she'll say yes?" Harry questioned desperately.
"Are you kidding?" Hermione shrieked. "She's been in love with you since she was ten years old! Of course, she's going to say yes!"
"I know, it's just a relief to hear you that." Harry sighed. "Molly and Arthur said the same when I asked for their permission."
"My parents knew before me?" Ron scoffed. "That's just not right."
"Oh Ronald, drink your pint and shut it." Hermione advised.
Ron narrowed his eyes at her before chugging the rest of the ale in the glass.
"When are you going to ask her?" Iris asked.
"Well, I was planning on doing it on Halloween before Ron and George's party." Harry explained cautiously. "For years that day has been a reminder of the sacrifice my mum and dad made for me. By proposing to Gin on Halloween, I'm sort of transforming the meaning of the day from the end of a life together to the beginning of one." He smiled weakly. "It's corny I know."
"No, it's not corny at all." Hermione contested. "I think it's a wonderful idea."
Iris agreed and reached across the table to squeeze Harry's hand. "James and Lily would be so proud."
Ron squeezed Harry's shoulder in solidarity.
Harry's grin stretched from her to her as his eyes rested on each of his friends briefly.
He then glanced down at the ring in his hands and the raw emotion Iris witnessed upon his features squeezed at her heartstrings.
"Not to get too ahead of ourselves but I'm definitely your Best Man right?" Ron leaned towards Harry.
"No." Iris challenged. "I'm the Best Woman."
"Absolutely not!" Ron cried out. "You'll be a bridesmaid."
"I'm mates with a misogynist!" Iris gasped. "Women can be part of a groom's party too you know!"
"Hey what about me?" Hermione threw her hands in the air. "I'm in the running just as much as the two of you!"
Chaos descended as Iris, Ron, and Hermione spent the next half an hour arguing over who was going to be the most important of Harry's groomsmen, or groomswomen, and Harry could do nothing but watch in adoration.