September 14, 2000

"Sinclair."

Iris groaned at whoever was attempting to wake her.

"Sinclair, wake up."

She rolled onto her back and threw a pillow over her face, trying to drown out the sound of the person's voice.

"Iris, if you don't get out of that bed, I will drag you out myself."

The voice's familiar demanding tone brought Iris out of her half-awake daze. She slowly removed the pillow from her face only to be instantaneously startled by the sight of Draco Malfoy standing at the foot of her bed.

"What are you doing in here?!" She screeched as she sat up and gathered the duvet around herself. She'd worn an over-sized tee shirt to bed, a shirt that provided more than enough coverage of her chest but being so close to Draco while wearing a such a thin layer of clothing made her heart race.

"Is that really necessary?" Draco's lips curled amusingly as he motioned towards the duvet. "Or have you forgotten that I spent the better part of Sixth Year feeling you up?"

"You're sick." Iris huffed before snatching a pillow from beside her and chucking it at his head.

He sidestepped the pillow with ease and the ever-present smirk plastered on his face infuriated Iris further.

"You have three seconds to explain why you thought it appropriate to waltz into my bedroom while I was sleeping, when you could've just as easily knocked on the door, before I reach for my wand."

Draco feigned offense. "And to think I was under the impression that it was not only mannerly of me as your trainee, but as your roommate, to come to your rescue." He held up his wrist and tapped the face of his watch. "Get up. We have to be at the Azkaban docks in an hour."

"That's not possible." Iris' brow furrowed from confusion. "I set an alarm for nine."

Iris' day was scheduled to full capacity with her and Draco's visit to Azkaban to interrogate Lucius as well as their trip to Andromeda's afterwards. Neither she nor Draco had been required to come to the office that morning because of their busy day so she'd seized the opportunity to get a couple more hours of shut eye.

Draco's eyes followed hers as she glanced at the clock on her bedside table.

The hands read 11:05AM.

"What?!" She exclaimed as she reached over and snatched the clock. When she pressed the button to check the status of her alarm, she saw that she had set it for 9:00PM instead of 9:00AM.

"Oh, fuck me." She grumbled as she fell backwards into her pillows.

"I almost did Sixth Year." Draco stated matter-of-factly.

"GET OUT!" Iris shouted as her face warmed with embarrassment at his words. She bolted from her bed and shoved at his back repeatedly, forcing him out of her bedroom.

Draco laughed loudly once he realized she was using every ounce of her upper body strength to push him out and with one final shove, he was out in the hallway.

"Nice knickers." His eyes trailed up and down her body. "I forgot how well Slytherin green suits you."

Iris gasped as she glanced downwards at her silk, emerald-green underwear on display for the world to see. A small section of her shirt had tucked itself into the waistband of her underwear throughout the night, a usual reoccurrence as she tossed and turned viciously while she slept.

"Burn it into your memory, Malfoy." Iris hissed as she released her shirt from her waistband, the hem flowing to her mid-thighs. "Because you'll never have the pleasure of seeing me half-naked again."

And then she slammed the door in Draco's face.

Waves from the North Sea slapped harshly against the side of the boat as Iris and Draco were steered towards Azkaban. The visitor's boat was an old sailing boat that fit a measly five people at maximum while an Auror stood at the far end and directed the boat towards the island with his wand.

The pair were seated right next to one another and the press of his thigh against hers did unspeakable things to her thoughts. She tried to reject the attraction she still had for him, but it was impossible to ignore the way her body was still drawn to his.

She risked a glance at Draco as he stared at the faraway prison with an unreadable expression.

The dark ensemble he was dressed in, an array of black from his blazer to his loafers, was stark against his pale skin and light hair. She noticed that he'd left the first two buttons of his dress shirt undone and her throat tightened at the sight.

"If you have something to say, then say it." He drawled as he eyed her out of his peripheral.

"I—" She stuttered. "I don't. I was just—I was just looking at you." She sighed admittingly.

"You do that a lot, you know."

"Yeah, well, I'm a very observant person."

Draco snorted. "If that's what you need to tell yourself." He met her eyes briefly before directing his gaze back towards the prison. "You look nice, by the way. I like when you wear your hair down, always have."

Iris was taken aback by his words.

She'd hurriedly changed clothes a total of five times before settling on a white top, a cropped black blazer, and a pair of plaid grey and white trousers that cinched at her waist. Her black curls hung loose past her chest and at her throat was the familiar hawk pendant.

She'd also thrown on a pair of her highest black heels as she refused to feel small in front of Lucius Malfoy.

"Oh, uh, thank you." She stared ahead at the prison as it loomed closer. "You do too. Look nice, I mean."

"I know." Draco sneered. "I just wanted to hear you admit that you thought so as well."

Iris shoved him so hard he nearly toppled over into the sea.

Draco's cheeky demeanor disappeared the moment he and Iris were escorted into Azkaban.

The Aurors that stood guard by the entrance took Iris and Draco's wands into custody and then roamed their eyes over the various Ministry documents they'd been required to bring. The papers included official proof that Iris and Draco were who they claimed to be as well as letters from Robards and Kingsley that granted Iris the clearance to visit Lucius alongside Draco.

The lack of Dementors was the only relief Iris could find.

Dementors had been banished from Azkaban since the end of the Second Wizarding War. The Auror Office had assumed the duty of guarding the prisoners in the place of the cloaked creatures, but a cloud of despair still hung heavily over the fortress.

The entrance of the prison greeted its visitors with a seemingly never-ending stairwell that curled upwards towards the upper floors. In the midst of the transfer from Dementor to Auror guards, Kingsley must have forgotten to sign off on the inclusion of lifts within the prison.

Once the formalities commenced, a Senior Auror was assigned as their guide for the duration of their visit, a man Iris recognized as Talbott Winger. Auror Winger motioned for Iris and Draco to follow him up the stairs and she had only taken a few steps upwards before immediately regretting her decision to wear heels.

By the time she and Draco reached the floor that Lucius was held on, the pair were panting and sweating profusely.

Auror Winger, however, wasn't fazed.

"A little out of shape, are you?" Auror Winger snickered.

Iris nodded her head exasperatedly as she inhaled and exhaled frantically.

"That was seven—flights!" Draco wheezed. "Who would ever—be in well-enough shape—for that?"

Once they managed to regain their breath, Iris and Draco were led down a stone corridor lit only by the sconces on the walls. They passed torch after torch until Auror Winger stopped at the very end of the corridor in front of a blank expanse of stone.

"This is your father's cell." Auror Winger motioned towards the blank space.

Iris and Draco's matching looks of confusion drew a chuckle out of the Auror.

"It's enchanted similarly to the archway at King's Cross. Your father can't see or hear anyone unless an Auror brings the enchantment down." Auror Winger explained. "We're working on transitioning every cell in the fortress similarly, but we've only just begun with the high-security floors. There is a barrier in place, with or without the enchantment, that prevents your father from leaving his cell as well as prevents visitors from entering."

"Fancy." Iris commented. "I was prepared for thick metal bars and a bucket."

"Sinclair, I swear—" Draco abruptly cut himself off and clenched his teeth tightly.

"You swear what?" She arched an eyebrow.

"I—" He stammered. "Fuck." He snarled as he clutched his left forearm.

"Draco?" Her eyes flicked from the growing unease on his face to his tight grip around his forearm.

"Are you ready for me to remove the enchantment?" Auror Winger asked cautiously.

"Give us a—a minute?" Draco demanded rather than requested.

"What? Why?" Iris asked but Draco was too busy removing his blazer to answer her.

At his blatant discomfort, Iris shifted her gaze to Auror Winger and concurred with Draco's demand for a few minutes of privacy. Auror Winger preceded to walk down the other end of the corridor, but not before politely requesting that they pull themselves together sooner rather than later.

As soon as Auror Winger's back was turned, Draco let his blazer fall to the floor and doubled over in a howl of pain that he muffled with his fist against his mouth. His body shook violently as he leaned backwards against the wall opposite Lucius' cell and slid to the floor.

"Draco, what's happening?" Iris tried to remain calm, but panic was threaded through her tone.

"It's—it's the Mark." He hissed as he struggled to unbutton the sleeve of his dress shirt.

At the mention of the Dark Mark, Iris hurriedly crouched down beside Draco and pushed his shaking hand away so she could unbutton the sleeve herself. Once the fabric parted, she stifled a gasp at what lay before her eyes—the serpent of the Dark Mark had unraveled itself from the skull only to wrap and twist itself around Draco's forearm.

Once it had sufficiently coiled beneath his skin, the serpent would squeeze so tightly it seemed as if Draco's veins were about to burst from the pressure. The serpent would uncoil itself and return to the skull afterwards, awarding Draco a brief moment without pain, before the cycle repeated.

"Why is this happening?" Iris cried out.

"It's a farewell g—gift." Draco laughed dryly as beads of sweat poured down his face. "Voldemort cursed the Dark Mark before the Battle of Hogwarts to remind the Death Eaters left behind of their failure if he was defeated. Sick bastard always had a backup plan."

"How can I stop it?" She pleaded. "Tell me what I can do to help you."

"There isn't anything you can do." He admitted before letting a muffled cry escape as the serpent twisted its body around his forearm once more. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he breathlessly explained, "I have to wait it out, but it will pass."

"Did you know this was going to happen? Why didn't you tell me?"

Another rush of pain ran through Draco's body before he could respond.

"It—it happens at random, whenever the Mark wills it, but it's most often triggered when Death Eaters branded with the Mark are near one another. I guarantee my father is in just as much pain on the other side of that enchantment." Draco opened his eyes; his pupils had encompassed his grey irises. "It's only happened a few times before, first when I was still imprisoned. I knew there was a risk, but I couldn't be sure it would happen today so that's why I never mentioned it."

"I would've never let you come here if I'd known this could happen." Iris agonized.

"Oh, I know, that's why I didn't tell you." Draco chuckled as the veins in his neck protruded, the serpent in the midst of coiling itself around his forearm. "Will y—you hold my right hand? Being able to redirect some of the pressure onto someone else helps."

"Yes, yeah, of course." She stumbled over her words as she laced her fingers with his.

As soon as their hands were intertwined, the pain jolted through his body like an electric shock. He cried out softly and squeezed her hand so tightly she felt like the bones in hand we're going to break.

Once the pain ceased, she reached forward with her free hand and tucked strands of hair that had fallen into his face behind his ear. She didn't realize how intimate of gesture it was until their eyes met and the confusion in Draco's grey gaze stole the air from her lungs.

"Talk." He hissed. "Talk about something, anything."

"Oh alright, uh—"

The first thought that crossed her mind was undoubtedly going to provide the perfect distraction.

"You know, Fifth Year, when Tracey Davis spread that rumor that you snogged her after Potions?" She began. "Not even a week after you left a hickey on my—" She pointed at the exact spot on her neck with her free hand.

"I—Iris I remember." He choked out. "What's your point?"

The pain returned and Iris waited until Draco's bone-shattering squeeze of her hand had ceased before continuing. "Well, do you remember how, two days later, your broom kept trying to buck you off during the Slytherin versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match?"

"Of course, I remember! I almost fell off every fifteen minutes. I swear that's why we lost—" Draco lost his train of thought as he noticed the expression of guilt that had formed upon Iris' face.

"IT WAS YOU?" He shouted as the serpent unraveled and squeezed once more.

Somehow, he managed to squeeze her hand harder that time around.

"I was humiliated!" Iris defended herself.

"I could have died!"

"But you didn't?" She smiled sheepishly.

"And so now I'm supposed to believe that Tracey's cauldron exploding in Potions that following Monday was merely coincidental?"

Iris gulped. "Maybe we should save this conversation for later."

"I think so." He agreed.

The pair sat in silence for the next few minutes as the Dark Mark continue its assault upon Draco's forearm. His hair fell forward into his face again, but Iris resisted the urge to tuck it back behind his ear.

She instead focused on the serpent as it unraveled, twisted, squeezed, and reformed repeatedly.

Iris knew the pain was beginning to fade when the pressure from Draco's hand lessened. She watched as the serpent squeezed for the last time, at a much weaker intensity than the times before, and then resumed its original position twisted within the skull.

Draco exhaled as if it was his first time breathing in hours.

"Thank Merlin, that's over." She sighed with relief as she released Draco's hand.

"What? Were you worried?" His lips quirked on one side.

"About the bones in my hand, yes." Iris laughed weakly. "About you? Not so much."

"Liar." Draco exhaled heavily. "But I'll take it."

Their eyes met and Iris felt her heart ache at the sight of his bloodshot eyes, at the heavy blush that spread up from his neck.

She tore her eyes from his and reached behind her to retrieve his blazer. She stood and shook the dirt off of the blazer before gently placing it around Draco's shoulders. After giving Draco a couple minutes to catch his breath, Iris waved over Auror Winger who was still waiting patiently at the other end of the corridor.

Draco slowly got up off the ground and joined Iris. "Keep this between us." He requested as he buttoned the sleeves of his dress shirt. "Don't tell Potter, Granger, or the Weasel. My mother doesn't know, and I don't want her to worry."

"I won't." She promised. "But you need to meet with a Curse-Breaker. They might be able to help."

"Let's catch Greyback first." Draco shrugged his blazer back on. "After that, maybe I'll get into contact with one of those glorified archaeologists and see what the oaf has to say."

Before Iris could reiterate her concern, Auror Winger rejoined her and Draco.

"Ready, now?" Auror Winger arched an impatient eyebrow.

"Yes, let's get this over with." Draco eyed Iris out of peripheral. "Let me handle this. Don't say a word unless it is absolutely necessary. He'll be trying his hardest to get a reaction out of you."

"Practice restraint." Iris rolled her eyes as she brushed off her trousers. "Don't fret, I remember the way you spat those two words at me outside Kingsley's office."

Draco's lips parted but, before he could respond, Auror Winger let down the enchantment and he was rendered speechless.

Lucius Malfoy's cell was the epitome of Pureblood privilege.

There was only so much one could do to make a cell in Azkaban feel luxurious, but Lucius had used each and every one of his connections to make that happen.

The cell itself was the size of the Gryffindor Common Room with rugs of various shapes and sizes covering the stone flooring. A queen-sized bed on a wooden frame had been shoved into one of the corners of the cell, a luxurious velvet duvet and a mountain of pillows atop it. Across the cell, a half-filled bookcase could be found next to a desk fitted with a lit lantern, a quill and inkpot, and numerous rolls of parchment.

When Auror Winger removed the enchantment on Lucius' cell, the elder Malfoy was seated by the desk, furiously scribbling away on a piece of parchment. He was dressed in the typical striped uniform of Azkaban prisoners, his long platinum hair tied back with a twine of string.

Lucius' quill paused abruptly as the enchantment disappeared and an amused sneer appeared on the Death Eater's face as he slowly turned his head to meet the eyes of his son.

"Come to visit dear old Dad, have you?"

Draco's hands twitched ever so slightly at the sound of his father's voice.

"You look considerably stable." Draco spat, his gaze shifting towards his father's left forearm.

Lucius followed his son's line of sight and laughed loudly once the inference became clear.

"A little pain reminds me that I am still among the living. Are you finding it difficult to handle, Draco?" Lucius mocked. "I tried to convince the Dark Lord that you weren't worthy of the Mark but alas, here we are."

"I believe by that point Voldemort no longer considered your counsel the wisest, did he?" Draco spat. "You failed so often that he trusted Snape's abilities more than yours and he was a double-agent."

"Insolent child." Lucius hissed at his son as he stood from the desk.

Draco clenched his jaw tightly as his father stormed towards the barrier. Lucius' gaze shifted from Draco to Auror Winger before resting upon Iris, intrigue crossing his features before his eyes widened with recognition.

A wave of nausea washed over her as his lips curled with a sick sort of pleasure.

"Iris Sinclair." He hummed. "You dug your claws in so thoroughly that I find you still clinging to my son? After all these years? After all the pain he must have caused you?"

Iris refused to respond but if looks could kill Lucius Malfoy would've been gasping for air.

"Father." Draco spat. "This is not a personal visit. We are here by request of the Minister of Magic and the Auror Office. The Ministry demands the release of information that could lead to the apprehension of one of your former comrades."

"Oh, is that so?" Lucius jeered with his eyes still glued to Iris.

"Look at me." Draco snarled and Lucius' eyes moved slowly from Iris to his son. "We need the location of every hideout used by the Death Eaters during the First and Second Wizarding Wars."

Lucius cackled.

It was a mad, crazed sound that sent chills down Iris' spine.

"What? Your inside intel isn't good enough? Is that it?" Lucius grinned. "I assumed the Ministry must've rounded all my old friends up by now."

"The one we are looking for was not a friend." Draco explained.

Lucius ruminated over Draco's words before his features twisted with delight. "Ah, you're looking for Fenrir." He paced up and down the barrier. "He up to his old tricks again, is he?"

"If by tricks you mean maiming and infecting helpless children."

"Well, we all have our vices, don't we?" Lucius stated nonchalantly. "I, for one, quite enjoy reading about war strategy and combat. And you, my son, find your pleasure in the company of Mudbloods." He spat in Iris' direction and she instinctively retreated backwards.

Draco's hand reflexively reached out to stabilize her, laying it on the small of her back.

Iris jolted at his touch and hurriedly stepped out of his reach.

Lucius watched the exchange with interest but surprisingly deigned to comment on the reaction he'd spurred.

"The Ministry wants my help in capturing Fenrir? They know my terms. I want out of this god forsaken hellhole." Lucius snarled. "Or . . ." He smiled maliciously as a thought crossed his mind. "Tell your mother I want conjugal visits."

Draco sprang forward at his father's words and the only thing separating father and son was the magical barrier between them. "You will never see her again, you understand me? The divorce will be finalized and then she will be rid of you!"

"She may be rid of me, but you will never be, my boy. You are a Malfoy." Lucius sneered. "You are my heir. My blood runs in your veins and it will run in the veins of your children. You must live with that until the day you die."

Silence ensued as Draco and Lucius glared at one another and the air in the corridor grew thicker by the second. Draco was taller than his father by a small margin but somehow Lucius still managed to look down on his son with pure disgust.

"We're done here." Draco declared. "This was as pointless as I assumed it would be."

Draco turned his back on his father and headed towards Iris. He placed a hand on Iris' shoulder to guide her away from Lucius, but she shrugged him off. He sent her a look of warning, but she held up a hand to indicate that she wasn't to be stopped.

She brushed past Draco and positioned herself in front the barrier, in front of Lucius.

"My, my, my." He taunted. "The lioness comes to play."

Iris smiled brightly as she said, "You are a miserable, weak man and one day, I will end your life."

"Auror Sinclair—" Auror Winger warned from behind her.

"Iris—" Draco hissed.

"It could be tomorrow, it could be months from now, or it could be years until I get the chance." Iris continued. "But one day, I will, slowly so you suffer, and the last face you will ever see is the one of the Muggle-Born that bested you at every turn."

"An empty threat from a filthy, Mud—" Lucius growled.

Lucius was cut off as Auror Winger restored the enchantment upon his cell and Iris found herself face to face with blank stone.

"And just like that, silence." Auror Winger cheered as Iris spun around to face him. "I can only deal with that fool for so long and that conversation seemed to be taking an unfortunate turn. I'd rather not be privy to threats of murder that I could be considered complicit."

Iris glanced at Draco whose eyes were locked upwards on the ceiling.

"You wouldn't happen to have bottle of scotch hidden in your robes?" She asked as she shifted her gaze back to Auror Winger.

"Sadly, I don't, but let me guide the pair of you out of here so you can find a pub in Diagon Alley to get sloshed in." Auror Winger motioned ahead but Iris halted him with a gentle touch on the shoulder.

"Talbott." She crooned. "Before you show us out, I do have a small request—"

"The cell hasn't been touched since his escape." Auror Winger stated as he, Iris, and Draco arrived outside a cell on the fifth floor. "It should be just as it was seven years ago."

The cell could only be entered and exited through a metal door built into the thick metal bars, and from where Iris was standing, she could tell that the cell was a mere quarter of the size of Lucius Malfoy's.

Auror Winger waved his wand and the click of the metal door unlocking resounded throughout the corridor.

"Not even my cell was this pitiful." Draco remarked as his eyes scanned the outside.

"I imagine your mother pulled some strings." Iris exhaled. "I want go in alone. Stay here."

Draco and Auror Winger stayed behind as she pushed downward on the door handle, her heart racing anxiously as she stepped into Sirius Black's old cell.

The air was knocked from her lungs as her eyes scanned her surroundings.

There was a window above the stone slab of a bed, a miniscule gap within the stone that teased the cell's occupant of the outside world without giving them an actual view. The sight of chains dangling against the wall gave rise to goosebumps along her arms, old blood stains speckled the rusting surfaces.

Iris could only imagine what kind of torture Sirius had endured at the hands of the Dementors.

Scattered across the ground were yellowed and ripped copies of the Daily Prophet, the pages crinkling underneath Iris' heels. She bent over and picked up the exact issue of the Prophet that featured the Weasley family's trip to Egypt, Ron's youthful face greeting her as well as the sight of Peter Pettigrew perched on his shoulder.

Iris sighed and let the newspaper float back onto the ground.

As she neared the stone slab, scratches on the wall caught her eye. She kneeled on the slab and traced her fingers along what was undoubtedly twelve years of tally marks scratched into the wall.

Iris noticed more scratches underneath the window, so she stood on the slab to get a closer look.

Her hand flew to her mouth in despair.

The scratches were names.

Her eyes welled with tears as she ran her fingers along the looped letters of the names scratched into the stone.

Remus.

James.

Lily.

Harry.

Marlene.

Regulus.

Over and over and over and over Sirius scratched the names of those he loved the most.

A few minutes passed before Iris was able to steel the sorrow that had overwhelmed her.

When she exited the cell, she hurriedly pushed past Auror Winger and Draco.

"I've seen enough." She shouted as she wiped away the tears streaming down her face. "Let's go."