September 15, 2000
With only twenty minutes to spare before the guests were set to arrive, Iris, Harry, Ron, and Ginny hurried Hermione over to the living room so she could unwrap her birthday gifts.
Harry handed Hermione his gift first, a large box wrapped to perfection with shiny lilac paper. The paper was thrown everywhere as Hermione ripped through it and Ron made a valiant effort to catch it as it soared through the air.
Hermione unclasped the plain chestnut box that lay underneath the paper to reveal a shallow stone basin, engraved with Nordic runes along its exterior, placed beside three glass vials connected to rope chains of silver by ornate bell caps.
"Harry, how did you—" Hermione's eyes widened at the gift as she was rendered speechless.
"A Pensieve!?" Iris' jaw went slack. "You got her a Pensieve? How the hell, Harry Potter?"
"A wizard never reveals his secrets." Harry winked at her before shifting his gaze back to Hermione. "Now, only 'Mione can use the Pensieve, it was crafted for her memories exclusively. The vials are handy for saving memories on the spot when the Pensieve isn't nearby."
Hermione's eyes darted towards Harry and an appreciative shriek escaped her lips as she flew from the armchair she was sitting in and tackled her best friend.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Hermione cried into Harry's ear. "I've been searching for one for years but they're so rare I'd almost given up!"
"Why did we let him go first?" Ron grumbled to Iris. "We should have never let him go first. New rule, Harry always gives gifts last."
"Agreed."
Hermione untangled herself from Harry and returned to the armchair, her eyes twinkling with delight as she glanced once more at the Pensieve before locking it away. Ginny handed Hermione her gift next, a certificate for an all-expenses paid spa day at Madame Baudelaire's in Paris.
Ginny winked inconspicuously at the birthday girl as she mentioned that a plus-one was included.
"I wouldn't be opposed to a mud bath either." Ron mumbled and Iris pinched him in the leg, emitting a quiet squeal from the redhead that had her choking on laughter.
After thanking Ginny, Hermione laid the certificate upon the chestnut box and wiggled her eyebrows at Iris impatiently. Iris snorted and pointed her finger at her purse in the kitchen, using wandless magic to retrieve a velvet box from within and float it over onto her best friend's lap.
Inside the box lay a golden charm bracelet decorated with pendants shaped into the Patronuses of those gathered.
A hawk for Iris.
A Jack Russell Terrier for Ron.
A stag for Harry.
A horse for Ginny.
Hermione gasped once she opened the box and laid her eyes on the bracelet.
"I had the bracelet made by a Muggle jeweler near Berkeley Square and then I charmed the pendants myself." Iris began. "If the person the pendant represents is in danger, as we so often are, it'll pulse. If you hold the bracelet over a map while the pendant is pulsing it'll be drawn towards our location, similar to a tracking pendulum."
"Iris, it's beautiful." Hermione mused as she clasped the bracelet around her wrist. She held her wrist up and watched as the flames of candles reflected onto the surfaces of the small pendants. "Thank you so much."
Iris blew a kiss at her.
"Ron, you're up." Harry clapped his hands eagerly.
"Oh, yeah, about that." Ron chuckled, glancing at Iris for support. "So, I have a new hobby. It's a bloody normal hobby, one many people enjoy in fact, but I've been a bit nervous, or embarrassed, or fuck even anxious to share it with you all."
"Why would you be embarrassed?" Hermione's brow furrowed.
"Well, as you all know, I've started going to group therapy at St. Mungo's." He began apprehensively. "And, at those sessions, we primarily focus on peaceful ways to relieve stress, anger, frustration, really any negative emotion we may hold inside for far too long."
"Get to the point, Ronald." Ginny demanded.
Ron shot daggers at his sister. "I—paint."
"You—paint?" Harry asked confused.
"Yes." Ron said slowly. "I paint. Landscapes, mostly."
"Are you having a laugh?" Ginny asked disbelievingly.
"No, I am not having a laugh, Ginevra." He mocked. "Painting is similar to wizard chess. The strategic placements you have to make, how the plan, the image, is fleshed out in your mind before it's even on the chessboard or on canvas."
"Oh, well that's wonderful." Hermione pondered. "Thank you for sharing, Ron."
"Anything for you, 'Mione." Ron stood from the sofa. "Now, there was a point behind this revelation, so wait just a moment."
Ron disappeared from view and Ginny cleared her throat to grab Iris' attention.
"Ron Weasley, the painter?" She mouthed.
Iris smiled proudly.
Nearly two months ago, Iris had crashed on Ron and George's sofa after a night out drinking in Muggle pubs. The following morning, her hangover had increased tenfold when she was abruptly awakened by George's desperate screaming over the results of the Chudley Cannons versus Appleby Arrows Quidditch match.
Ron had brewed her a cup of tea to apologize and confessed his newfound hobby.
She'd been convinced he was still drunk.
At the time, the thought of Ron delicately holding a paint brush sounded about as likely as George growing back his left ear.
To Iris' surprise, Ron had returned to where she was laid up on the sofa with a handful of canvases under his arm. The paintings had consisted mainly of landscapes, as well as a couple renditions of the Burrow, and one spectacular portrayal of the Hogwarts library that featured a certain witch.
Afterwards, he'd sworn her to secrecy.
Ron returned to the living room with the large canvas under his arms, the back facing outward.
"Now, if you hate it, just tell me. I won't be put out." Ron looked over at Iris knowingly, his face flushed scarlet red. "It's one of my earliest paintings, but I only just finished touching it up a couple weeks ago. It means more than the others, so I wanted to get it just right."
Ron glanced around the room anxiously before resting his eyes on Hermione and flipping the canvas over.
Two enormous oak bookcases, filled to capacity with tomes of various sizes and colors, framed either side of the canvas. A candelabra hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the study table situated between the bookcases. At the study table, a familiar looking witch with voluminous curls, dressed in Gryffindor robes, sat with a lit lamp and open book to her left and a quill, inkpot, and blank scroll of parchment to her right.
"Ron." Hermione sighed. "I—"
"This was my first try with oil paint, it's how I figured out I preferred oil over acrylic actually." Ron smiled sheepishly. "I know it's odd that I kept it a secret until now, I just wanted to be sure I had an ounce of talent before—"
His rambling was interrupted as Hermione rushed to him and laid her palms on his cheeks.
"You have more than an ounce." Hermione pecked Ron softly on the lips. "It's amazing."
Ron's jaw went slack with surprise as Hermione kneeled down to examine the painting from a closer angle.
He looked to Iris and mouthed, "I owe you one."
Iris winked at the redhead as the thunderous chime of Hermione's grandfather clock rang throughout the flat, alerting the group that their guests would be arriving any second.
Luna arrived first in a sleeveless, high neck icy blue dress that flowed around her ankles. She'd chopped her platinum blonde hair so that it hovered above her shoulders in loose waves, and a silver circlet detailed with leaves rested around her head.
Neville followed close behind in a tweed sport coat with elbow patches, the birthday cake that he'd baked and decorated for the evening secure in his hands.
Surprisingly, not far behind Neville, were Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan.
At the sight of the Seamus and Dean, who Hermione greeted and hugged briefly with a perplexed expression on her face, Iris looked pointedly at Harry. He had also noticed the pair and was eyeing Iris and Ginny cautiously over the rim of his champagne flute.
"Hex me now." Ginny groaned once she noticed Dean.
"And who invited those two?" Iris narrowed her eyes at Harry as she tapped a finger against her flute.
Seamus had an almost dangerous history of being infatuated with her and had earned a permanent place on her shit list when he'd spread around Hogwarts that Harry was lying about the return of Voldemort during their Fifth Year.
Dean, on the other hand, well, he'd been skilled enough to earn a position with the Auror Office, and even Iris could admit that he was handsome, but he lacked a personality of his own when Seamus was around.
Harry downed the rest of the bubbly in his glass. "Dean overheard me talking to Ron about the party and I didn't have the heart to tell him he wasn't invited."
"For Merlin's sake Harry, why didn't you invite Michael Corner while you were at it? Then I could've been reunited with all of my exes." Ginny huffed as she stood. "I need liquor."
She shoved her champagne flute into Harry's free hand and stormed off towards the bar cart.
"Gin." Harry called after her, but she kept on.
"Let her get some vodka in her system and she'll be fine." Iris said trying to wipe the look of desperation off his face. "I, however, might murder you for not demanding that Dean arrive without his ball in chain."
"Wherever Dean goes, Seamus goes, and we used to be close before the world sent to shit. I didn't have—"
"You didn't have the heart to refuse, yeah, yeah, I get it." Iris rolled her eyes as she downed the rest of the champagne in her flute.
"Take it easy." He teased as he stood from the sofa. "You're turning into a bit of lush."
Iris kicked Harry's shin as he passed by her and then emptied the flute the second it had finished magically refilling. With an adequate amount of liquid courage now swirling within her veins, she stood from the sofa and joined everyone else in the huddle that was forming near the kitchen.
She pushed her way towards Neville first, a work-related request at the forefront of her mind.
After politely asking over each other's health and work, Iris pointed towards her purse and used wandless magic once more to float over two envelopes that she had sealed earlier in the day.
"Neville." She hummed as the envelopes landed in her palm. "Can you do me a favor?"
Neville's eyes were full of panic as they darted towards her hands.
"No, no, no." He slowly backed away. "I will not let you rope me into whatever grand scheme you've got brewing inside that dark and twisty mind of yours."
"Do you really think so little of me?" Iris pouted. "When you go back to Hogwarts, tonight or tomorrow morning—" She subtly hinted at Luna and Neville blushed viciously. "I need you to deliver these letters to Slughorn and McGonagall."
He scrutinized her. "What are you up to?"
"I'm just asking to meet with them, that's all." She pleaded. "Please Neville, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. Hand delivery will be faster than using an owl and I trust you."
She was deliberately leaving out the fact that this request would include the return of Draco Malfoy to his alma mater.
"This is going to cost you a trip through the greenhouse." Neville plucked the envelopes from her hand and slid them into the inner pocket of his sport coat. "I've been dying to show off my newest Venomous Tentacula, it's set to break a record for the number of spikes on its vines."
Iris screamed inwardly.
Herbology had been the one subject at Hogwarts that she had found coma-inducing.
"Of course, Neville. Of course." Iris pecked his cheek. "Thank you."
Neville's face returned to a shade of crimson at the feel of Iris' lips on his cheek and she held back a satisfied grin as she took her first sip of her third glass of champagne.
A knock at the front door signified the arrival of more guests and without waiting for an answer, George Weasley blasted his way into the flat in an obnoxiously large bowtie decorated with Fanged Frisbees.
At George's side were Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Oliver Wood, and Katie Bell.
Iris shrieked at the sight of some of her old Quidditch teammates and she forcefully pushed past George and Lee to reach them, in response the latter pair mumbled under their breath about being treated like chopped liver.
With the arrival of the last of the guests, the evening erupted into celebration. Conversation flowed, alcohol was poured, and Ron refused to take a breath for a solid five minutes as he shoved dish after dish into his mouth.
Iris learned that Katie's cousin was a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and nearly shoved the girl towards Ginny so the redhead could get a good word in.
At Katie's absence, Oliver returned to Angelina's side and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Iris' eyes widened at the action and then she almost fainted when Angelina pointed out her ring finger and she saw the diamond resting there.
George and Angelina hadn't dated since their days at Hogwarts but Angelina and Oliver? Angelina and Oliver engaged? She congratulated them and proceeded to down more champagne.
After Neville was applauded for masterminding Hermione's birthday cake, Ginny snapped her fingers and lit the twenty-one candles that were scattered around the surface. In typical Hermione fashion, she blew out the candles before they could sing to her, desperate to avoid the chorus of off-key and tone-deaf voices.
As the night continued, Iris dodged opportunities to acknowledge Seamus and Dean.
If she were sober, she might have made an attempt at small talk but the rising warmth within her cheeks was the first indication of the effect the champagne was beginning to have on her. Her flute had refilled at least five or six times, maybe more, and she did not need to get fired up around Seamus under the influence of alcohol.
Luna, on the other hand, she was dying to catch up with and she had just found a spot next to the Ravenclaw on the living room sofa when another knock at the front door caught everyone's attention.
A hushed silence permeated throughout the flat.
Hermione gasped and clapped her hands excitedly. "I didn't think she would actually make it."
Hermione rushed towards the front door and swung it open to reveal Pansy Parkinson standing outside, a bottle of wine in her hands and a cautious grin plastered on her face.
"Happy early birthday." Pansy wiggled the bottle in her hands. "I brought the good stuff."
Iris gulped as Hermione shut the door behind Pansy and ushered her towards the mass of witches and wizards. The Slytherin's appearance had caused a wave of wide eyes and curled lips but the look of pure hatred that crossed Seamus' face made Iris' stomach flip.
"What is she doing here?" Seamus sneered.
"Pansy is here because I invited her. It is my party after all." Hermione glared at Seamus, gluing herself to Pansy's side protectively. "If you have a problem with that Seamus, the door is right there."
"Poor, Finnigan." Pansy pouted mockingly. "Running off with his tail between his legs because the big, bad snake scared him away."
Iris choked on her champagne.
Seamus' face went red with rage, but before he could bite back at Pansy, Harry seemingly appeared from thin air and stepped purposefully in front of his old friend.
"Pansy!" Harry exclaimed with more enthusiasm than Iris had ever heard come from his mouth. "Let's crack open that wine, shall we?" He rushed towards her and nearly shoved the witch into the kitchen, using his frame to obscure her from Seamus' view.
At the sight of Harry's acceptance of Pansy's presence, and out of the fear of what Hermione may do if provoked, the tension within the flat eased and conversation resumed, albeit slowly, with the occasional suspicious glance directed at the Slytherin in the kitchen.
Iris promised to return to Luna shortly before hurriedly making her way over to Harry, Hermione, and Pansy. Harry had uncorked Pansy's bottle of wine and was pouring her a glass as she was in the midst of an apology for trying to give him up to Voldemort during the Battle of Hogwarts.
"I'd probably do it again, but I am sorry." Pansy said as he handed her the glass. "I mean you did make it out alive regardless."
Harry laughed as he set the bottle down. "I'll take it."
"Parkinson." Iris crossed her arms as she leaned against one of the counters.
Harry and Hermione exchanged cautionary looks, silently preparing to throw themselves between the two witches if need be.
"Sinclair. Come to jinx me again, have you?" Pansy narrowed her eyes. "The Curse-Breaker who freed me left an enormous bald spot on the right side of my head. I had to spend half of my rent on ingredients for a hair growth potion."
Pansy's hair was longer than she'd ever seen it, curtaining down to her chest. The silky black strands were stark against her long sleeve, silver top that glittered under the light and revealed a dangerous amount of cleavage. A pair of black leather leggings clung to her legs like a second skin and she towered over Iris in black stilettos.
"Did you really think I would let years of bullying get brushed under the rug without some payback? Honestly, I did you a favor, your hair looks better this way." Iris sipped her champagne. "The bob was very early nineties."
Pansy glared at her before taking a large swig of her wine.
She held out the glass towards Harry when she was finished. "Potter, more."
Harry hurriedly poured the wine just as George Weasley bounded over and weaved his way between Iris and Pansy. With a glass of firewhiskey in one hand and a mischievous grin curled upon his face, Iris could tell George was up to no good.
"Be still my heart." George's grin widened as his eyes drank in every inch of Pansy. "You are the most exquisite woman I have ever seen."
"A Weasley." Pansy frowned. "The one that belonged to a matching set, nonetheless."
"That's right, still do, I carry a piece of Fred with me everywhere I go. This was his bowtie." George winked before kneeling down and taking Pansy's free hand in his. "And he would be as astonished by your beauty as I am. Milady, where have you been my entire life?"
"Out of your league." Pansy's eyes widened with horror as she snatched her hand from George's. "Potter, the bottle."
Pansy stuck her free hand out without a glance towards Harry and he handed her the bottle. Then, with a glass in one hand and the bottle in another, she eyed George with nauseated curiosity as she made a beeline for the living room.
"I've been bewitched." George sighed dreamily, his eyes glued to Pansy as he stood. "Love at first sight is real."
"George, it's not first sight." Iris furrowed her brow. "You went to school with her for five years."
"Parkinson was it? Her surname rings a bell but that's just not possible." George sipped his firewhiskey as Pansy took the spot next to Luna on the sofa and the latter conjured a copy of The Quibbler out of thin air and preceded to point to various passages on the front page. "I would've noticed a Veela walking among us."
"Pansy Parkinson is not a Veela." Harry facepalmed.
"Pansy Weasley has quite the ring to it, don't you think? Or George Parkinson?" George's grin spread from ear to ear. "Wish me luck kids."
George winked once more and Iris, Hermione, and Harry burst into laughter at the horror that curled Pansy's features as he made his way determinedly towards her.
It was nearing on midnight when Iris found her way back to Luna.
"Luna, I must tell you that you look positively ethereal tonight." She said, her fantastical language influenced by the eight glasses of champagne she'd downed.
"Oh, thank you. I sewed the dress from old curtain fabric and the circlet is made from melted spoons." Luna mused, her pale blue eyes twinkling. "How are you? The Quibbler's lack of a gossip section doesn't make me blind to the headlines our competitors are running."
Iris' heart pounded as the image of Draco behind the parlor piano flashed across her mind. "I'm sorry Luna, I don't follow."
"They're wrong, you know." Luna smiled sadly. "They don't know half the story, they never do."
"Luna, is there something—"
Iris was interrupted by the sound of Seamus' distinct Irish accent bouncing off the walls of the flat.
"Potter, did I just hear right? Are you training Draco fucking Malfoy to be an Auror?"
Chills shot down Iris' spine.
"Oh no, we were having such a wonderful evening." Luna sighed.
Harry, who had been leaning against the staircase with Ginny, cleared his throat and stood straight. "Yes, Seamus, I am."
"Are you mad?" Seamus spat from near the dining table. "I held my tongue for Hermione over Parkinson, but I draw the line at Draco Malfoy, as you should have. He should still be rotting in Azkaban alongside his bastard father."
Iris' eyes flicked over to Pansy who was observing the interaction near the living room bay window with calculative interest.
"A Death Eater training to be an Auror? What a fucking joke. The reward must've been great for you to agree to such gobshite." Seamus hissed. "Is this what happens to a person when they're handed a high-ranking position? They turn a blind eye to the terror we all endured at the hands of You-Know-Who and his beloved followers for a measly bit of under the table influence?"
"How dare you?" Ginny growled, baring her teeth.
"I, most of all, will never forget." Harry laid his hand on the small of Ginny's back to calm her. "And people change Seamus, they deserve a chance to grow from their past if willing, but I don't have to explain the reasonings behind my decisions to you or anyone else."
"How is it that I'm the only one outraged by this?" Seamus glanced around the flat for support. "Or are the rest of you too weak to stand up for yourselves?"
Iris had heard enough.
Her grip tightened around her flute as she stood and glared at Seamus. "Get the fuck out."
Seamus's lips curled maliciously. "If you were smart, you'd keep your mouth shut, Sinclair."
"Seamus." Dean hissed. "Let's go." He clasped his hand on his best friend's shoulder.
That should've been the end of it.
Unfortunately, the champagne in Iris' veins had other ideas.
"No, wait." Iris said and the pair halted their retreat. "Why should I keep my mouth shut, Seamus? Or did you only say that because you're resentful that I refused to drink the love potion you tried to slip me when we were sixteen?"
Seamus whirled around at her words, his face red with fury. "Fuck you, Iris. You act so high and mighty, but your loyalty shifted the day Malfoy ran his hands up your skirt."
Iris was visibly taken aback, and Seamus laughed at her discomfort.
"Does that surprise you? That we knew? You weren't exactly subtle." He snarled. "Was being called a Mudblood foreplay for you? Or was the fact that he was too ashamed to be seen with you in public enough of a turn on?"
Iris' blood boiled beneath her skin, and she felt pressure within her chest as her breathing shallowed.
"Watch your fucking mouth." Ron's face was flushed with anger as he took step towards Seamus.
"What is wrong with you?" Dean shoved Seamus towards the front door.
Iris' eyes flicked towards Ron, worried that things were about to turn physical, and she inwardly sighed with relief at the sight of Hermione's arm wrapped tightly around Ron's waist.
"Get. Out." Iris hissed once she shifted her gaze back to Seamus.
"I'm out." Seamus held his hands up in surrender mockingly as he trailed after Dean.
The conversation seemed to be at an end until Seamus spun around on his heel before crossing the threshold.
He met Iris' eyes once more as he spat, "It's a shame the Ministry banished the Dementors from Azkaban before Malfoy was imprisoned. He would've been the model candidate for the Dementor's Kiss."
Iris saw red as the beat of her heart roared in her ears.
And then the champagne flute shattered in her hand.