Author's Notes:

The first chapter for the "rewrite" is up. But it's not even remotely a rewrite anymore. It might as well be a mostly new story at this point, but with Iris's characterization still there. I also said that I was going to be doing the first three years in the new story. Yeah, well, I'm full of shit. The first chapter starts before Hogwarts but the second chapter starts near the end of second year. So we're skipping all of first year and most of second year.

The whole Sirius/Pettigrew plot for third year is also completely thrown out. You'll be looking at an entirely new plot. Fourth year, the five task Triwizard Tournament, and possibly Fleur's romance, will come around again.

Here's a sort of epilogue for this. Understand that this epilogue is not what I had originally planned for this story. It was not part of the plan or outline. But the ending wasn't supposed to come this early, so take it for what it is. It's mostly lighthearted.

Should I mark this as complete? I mean, it kinda is.

o

Epilogue

An Early Departure

o

1996, June 20, Saturday.

She watched the sunset from the tallest tower. She wished she had gone here from the very beginning, that she hadn't even bothered with Hogwarts. Outside of her friendship with Hermione, and she supposed Ron, not much good had come from it. Here, though, was amazing. The view was more beautiful than the one from Hogwarts. But maybe she was biased.

There were a lot of rainy days at Hogwarts, and rarely was there a day quite as beautiful as this, here, in the Pyrenees mountains. Fleur was right. Beauxbatons was much better than Hogwarts. It might not have been quite as large, though its size was close, but the white stone, the blue roofing, the summer feel of it all — yes, she should have gone to Beauxbatons from the beginning. Things would have gone much simpler then. Smoother.

She might have met Fleur earlier. She might have felt Fleur's arms wrap around her waist much earlier, her body press against her back, like it was now.

Iris leaned back into her. She might have had a more pleasant life. She might not have gone through utter hell by the time she was fifteen years old. She might have been able to get a good night's sleep without nightmares when sleeping alone.

But it didn't matter now. She did have someone with her, and though a student-professor relationship was usually discouraged, Fleur was only a teacher aide — and so, there were never nights where she was alone. Fleur wasn't even planning on staying once Iris graduated Beauxbatons, which was in a few days. She had taken the job purely to stay close to her, something that warmed Iris's heart (something Hermione had jokingly claimed she thought impossible). She couldn't wait to see Madame Maxime's face when she found out.

After Iris had saved Fleur's sister's life in the third task and Fleur's life in the fifth, and after she had realized just how far she was taking her competitiveness, Madame Maxime had apologized to both Fleur and Iris. Not that it stopped Iris from continuing being a general pain in the ass anyway.

"Are you okay?" Fleur asked in French and that magnificent accent that Iris had repeatedly called a mental massage.

"Yes," Iris said in English. She had become fairly good at French over the last year, but English was simply a habit for her, even now. Still, she knew more than enough to not have many problems in classes. She had even taken her O.W.L.S. in France. She had gotten Exceeds Expectations on Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Herbology; an Acceptable in Astronomy; a Troll in History of Magic, which she found hilarious; and an Outstanding in Defense, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, and Care of Magical Creatures — though, that last one might have been so because Astra had felt the need to Flash into the room during the practical exam. The examiner had seen the phoenix and had almost given Iris an Outstanding on the spot for her ability to domesticate one.

Fleur kissed the side of her head. "You're brooding."

"...No."

"An elegant response."

"It's just — well — we're leaving soon. I'm taking in the view again."

"Mm, yes, we are," Fleur said. "We will travel the world together, but we will come back. Our home will be in France. You can see it from here."

Iris snorted. "No, you definitely cannot."

"If you removed a few mountains, most definitely," said Fleur. "We will see plenty of other wonderful views; you, me, and Hermione — no?"

"You really are okay with her coming with?"

"Of course," Fleur said, sliding her hands down Iris's waist, to her hips, and over her thighs. "As long as she can give us privacy. I like Hermione, she will not be a bother. And if there are ever times where we cannot find privacy —"

"We'll just give her an interesting book," Iris finished, a little breathily due to Fleur's wandering hands. "We could strip naked in front of her and she wouldn't notice."

"We could strip naked here," Fleur said in her ear.

Iris laughed. "Fleur, quit that."

"Not if it makes you laugh. You've been laughing more lately. I'm glad." Fleur sighed. "I missed it. Thank you."

Iris shrugged. "You can thank yourself. If you hadn't convinced Madame Maxime to let me come here — if you hadn't been there for me — I'd be in Azkaban."

"Non," Fleur said lightly, "Azkaban would not hold you. You would have escaped."

Iris gave a casual tilt of her head. "Probably."

Azkaban.

The thought gave Iris chills. She had come so close to it.

It had all gone to hell after the fifth task, really. She had gotten to the Triwizard Cup first. Fleur and Krum hadn't got there before herself and Cassius Warrington, but Cassius had been too busy fighting off the yeti. So Iris had just… grabbed it.

She should have known. The potion to bring back Voldemort needed to have been done near a solstice, Voldemort had told her this himself, but she had forgotten about the summer solstice… Her and her damn mouth… it had nearly killed her, nearly broken her… had broken her. She understood why the Longbottoms had gone insane. The Cruciatus Curse was a horror that didn't deserve to exist, and Voldemort, he had been so angry, so full of rage. He hadn't just tortured her with the single curse.

Seeing muggles Polyjuiced as her friends get brutally slaughtered in front of her still haunted her. Her back was still scarred, would be permanently, from the cursed fire whip Voldemort had used on her. Her arms, too, still had the marks from the Inferi that had been set on her.

Time for a family reunion.

She had thought the words had meant he would kill her, that she would rejoin her parents in death — but no, she had instead finally found out what had happened when her parents' graves were desecrated in March. He had taken their corpses and had used it in a task of his own — the unofficial sixth task, the one she was still recovering from.

She had been forced to make sure her parents' corpses could no longer move to continue his task. But not with a wand. No, Voldemort had given her a rock. It was the only time that Iris could remember outright sobbing. Horrible, agonizing, gut-wrenching gasps and tears that shook her body with tremors.

She felt tears welling up just from the thought of it.

She had taken his title from him. She had killed one of his servants and stopped his revival months prior to it. She had made fun of him before, after, and during her kidnappings. And she had paid for it all. She had been so utterly broken once Voldemort finally killed her. He had Portkeyed her back to Hogwarts, dead.

She had come back to life, of course, but she was unresponsive, desolated, defeated. While dead, she heard vague whispers of her name, from a man and woman, but she was too gone to respond to them, even in the afterlife — limbo — purgatory — whatever it was called.

And when she had finally come back to herself many days later in the hospital wing, where Hermione had burst into tears at her first sign of actual life, not just a heartbeat, she had found that Fleur had already left. That hurt. But it wasn't as though it really compared to the pain Voldemort had caused her. She had no fight left in her. No snark. No liveliness. Voldemort had, in a way, really killed her.

Then at Privet Drive, where Sirius was spending time with her in his dog form to comfort her, the Aurors came. And the list of charges…

Being an illegal Animagus. They had found that out when people witnessed her transform during the final task.

Helping Sirius Black. Voldemort had gotten Lucius Malfoy to tell Fudge about Sirius's form, which had been told to Voldemort by Wormtail. The fact that Sirius was literally in her room when the Aurors barged in didn't help.

Murder of an Auror. One of the two that had come for her, actually. That had been an accident, but it happened nonetheless.

Murder of Barty Crouch and Rita Skeeter. Okay, she had definitely killed Rita Skeeter, but that was also an accident. It wasn't her fault Rita had been the beetle she had crushed. How they thought she had killed Barty Crouch she had no bloody idea. She hadn't stayed around to hear the details.

There were a few more charges as well. They had blamed the horned serpent's escape on her too and some other stuff. And so she had fled. Sirius had taken her to Grimmauld Place. And then one day she had gotten a letter from Fleur, saying France was willing to offer her a fair trial.

Dumbledore hadn't wanted her to go, but he had no real authority to tell her what to do anymore, especially as she couldn't ever go back to Hogwarts. The fact that he told her she shouldn't leave the country through a Patronus rather than face to face only pissed her off. She had found out later that he was worried about her connection to Voldemort; she had never told him about taking a Killing Curse to the face and ridding herself of the connection.

Hermione and Sirius had left with her. Sirius had been given a fair trial as well, and he had gotten off completely free. Iris on the other hand… her matters were a bit more complicated. In the end she had to pay an enormous fine for her crimes. They had ruled the deaths of Rita Skeeter and the Auror her indirect fault, and as she was still a minor, she hadn't been given any prison time.

And so a year went by at Beauxbatons. Fleur was a teacher aide. Iris and Hermione prepared for their O.W.L.S. in the new school and had taken them at the end of their fifth year. Sirius had bought himself and Iris two homes near Beauxbatons. Fleur had gladly taken Iris's offer of moving in with her, even if she had barely spent any time there so far. But with Astra, they were able to travel there whenever they wished.

Dumbledore still sent her monthly letters asking her to reconsider returning. He had never attempted to force her to, but as he never gave her the real reason for why she should return, only saying vague things like "I'm afraid the reason cannot be —" blah, blah blah, Iris never bothered to read any more.

Her letters back to him were always incomplete. She would stop writing mid-sentence, give the parchment to Astra, and Astra would Flash to Dumbledore's office, throw the incomplete letter in his face, and then give an actual letter to McGonagall, who had respected Iris's wishes and even defended her.

While she spent a year at Beauxbatons, studying and learning with Hermione, fooling around and exploring her relationship with Fleur, and generally antagonizing half of the school, things back in Britain were… not well.

Some bitch in pink had begun taking over Hogwarts, Arthur Weasley had been killed by Nagini on one of Dumbledore's missions, the Weasleys refused to leave Britain out of a need for revenge — it was all terrible, really.

But Fudge had apparently finally gotten his head out of his own ass and accepted that Voldemort was back — a week ago, in fact, when Voldemort shown up at the Ministry itself. That had been the only time Iris had helped Dumbledore. She had made sure a rumor reached Britain about Fleur visiting the country.

Voldemort took his chance. His plan, helped along with Snape, coincidentally, was to let a Death Eater get purposely Stunned by Iris when he attempted to attack her, and Iris was to find a letter on him talking of how they had Fleur. Iris had found the letter — the problem for Voldemort, however, was that Fleur had been with her at the very moment she had run into the Death Eater out in the French equivalent of Diagon Alley. She had used Salazar Slytherin's portrait to tell Dumbledore that she had received the information. Salazar had a portrait at Hogwarts, her own home, and in her private room at Beauxbatons.

Nymphadora Tonks, a Metamorphmagus, had turned her appearance into an exact replica of Iris (after visiting France to study Iris), and had shown up at the Ministry. She wished she could have seen the expression on Voldemort's face when Tonks, still looking like Iris Potter, had displayed Auror-level skill in dueling.

Of course, Tonks didn't really stand a chance against Voldemort, but Dumbledore had shown up at the perfect moment — the two wizards dueled, destroyed the Atrium, and — well, Iris didn't care for the rest.

And now the world was aware of Voldemort's return, Britain was screaming for Iris's return, Iris had sent the biggest fuck you letter back, and she, Fleur, and Hermione were about to travel the whole damn world.

There was a decent chance they'd be hunted by Death Eaters or Voldemort himself, but she wasn't too worried. Dumbledore had informed her that he was hunting down objects called Horcruxes to finally make Voldemort mortal, and that she herself had been one in a way. He had also finally informed her of the prophecy, but had said that if it was needed, he would simply beat Voldemort in a duel and deliver his body to her for her to finish.

"There's Astra," Fleur said, drawing her out of her thoughts.

Iris looked up and saw Astra gliding toward them.

"Let's go to our home for the evening, Iris," Fleur said, giving a lingering kiss on her neck.

Iris closed her eyes and slowly nodded.

Astra swooped down and in a flash of light, a clap of thunder, the three of them vanished from the tower and reappeared in their mountainside home, overlooking some of the same mountains. Hermione sat in the living room, reading and enjoying the sunset. Fleur gave both Iris and Hermione a wink before heading to Iris's bedroom — which was really Fleur's, too. She whispered in Iris's ear as she passed.

"Hurry. This might be the last time we'll make use of our bed for a while."

"Astra, mind taking me back to Hogwarts?" Hermione said, standing up. "I don't really need to hear these two."

Iris smiled at her best friend. "We'll put up a privacy charm."

Hermione glared. "That's what you always say. I'm beginning to believe you purposely leave it down, just so I can hear everything."

"It's an honest mistake," Iris said. "Though, if you ever want to —"

"I'm not going to join you two!" Hermione said, turning red as she always did when Iris brought the matter up. "Honestly, just — just go. I'll put up a Silencing Charm if you forget."

Iris shrugged. "If you say so. I bet I can make Fleur break through the charm if she —"

"Oh, for the love of —"

Iris gave a small smile to herself as Hermione left the room. Things were good. She had Fleur, Hermione, and if Dumbledore's latest letter was any indication, hopefully a Voldemort-free world soon.

Hermione's voice bellowed from somewhere else in the house.

"Iris! Stop turning Crookshanks into a lion!"

Iris yelled back, "He needed an upgrade!"

"An upgrade?" Hermione said, coming back into the room clutching Crookshanks in her arms. "He's the same size! You didn't even — he only looks different!"

"Fine," Iris said, her wand materializing in her hand. "I don't know how you just now noticed that, but I'll turn him into a fully grown lion if it's so important."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh, no, Iris, don't you dare —"

In the main bedroom, Fleur sat up in bed, hearing a loud roar echo throughout the home. She wasn't sure if it was a lion or Hermione. Moments later, Iris burst into the room. She flopped on the bed and attempted to look alluring.

Hermione ran into the room a moment later, breathing hard. "Iris, you — I — oh." Hermione stared at Iris and Fleur as they lay in their bed. Fleur wasn't wearing much. Hermione gave a deep sigh. "Is the front door locked?"

"Why?" Fleur asked.

"So Crookshanks doesn't leave the house and eat someone."

"Crookshanks never ate that hiker, Hermione," Iris said, rolling her eyes. "And we repaired his arm, didn't we? How many times do I have to apologize for that?"

Hermione stared at Iris, unimpressed.

"Fine, one last apology?" Iris said, sharing a glance at Fleur. "I'll make you forget I ever angered you. Correction. Fleur and I will make you forget I ever angered you. Hop in bed, Hermione."

Hermione's expression either meant she was seriously considering it or she had finally realized what she had signed up for when she had agreed to come with Iris and Fleur on their trip. Iris wasn't sure if Hermione was reaching to pull her shirt off or to pull out her wand and curse her.

Probably the latter, Fleur thought with a fond smile at Iris, who looked on with foolish hope.