Iris and Harry walked into the flat, still laughing.

"Now I understand why you get on with George so well," Harry said. "You're just as much a troublemaker as he is." Iris shrugged.

"I was. Not so much anymore," she said.

"Ah, so with age does come wisdom," Harry mused. Iris light hit his arm.

"Go get cleaned up. I've got to start dinner. Oliver should be here soon," she said. Harry disappeared upstairs to his room. Iris continued into the living room. She stopped abruptly when she saw Oliver sitting at the island, a glass of whisky in front of him.

"Ah, good. You're home," she said brightly, hoping to cover the worry in her voice. This would be the second night in a row she found him with a whisky glass in front of him. She walked into the kitchen, setting her purse down on the counter. "I'll just get dinner on and we can eat soon." She started for the fridge but stopped, sensing coldness coming from Oliver. She looked over at him. "How was training?" she asked.

"So James isn't a muggle?" he asked. Iris was confused. How could he know that? She just found out herself.

"No. He's not. But how did you-"

"I saw you at the tea shop," he said before taking a drink.

"You did? Why didn't you come in? I would have loved to introduce you. Turns out he's quite the Puddlemere fan," she said. Oliver looked up at her, meeting her eyes.

"I saw the way he looked at you," he said. Iris resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she took a deep breath.

"Oliver-"

"He looks at you the way I do," he said.

"You mean the way you used to," Iris retorted before she could catch herself. Oliver flinched slightly. He looked back down at his glass. There was tense silence for a few moments. "I didn't…" Iris stopped, unsure of how to continue.

"Do you have feelings for him?" he finally said. Iris stared at him, not answering. She could feel her anger and frustration building. She finally laughed haggardly, shaking her head.

"Really? After everything we've been through? That's the question you're going to ask?" she exclaimed. "Honestly, Oliver. Some days I feel like you're the one who would rather I not be here. And no. I don't have feelings for him. He's an old friend and nothing more." He looked up at her.

"Do you really think I feel that way?" he asked quietly.

"Well it's not like you spend much time talking to me. How should I know? The only time you've ever been open with me was when you were piss drunk."

"You haven't been quite open with me either. Why didn't you tell me about Shacklebolt?" he asked.

"Don't change the subject," Iris spat. They both stared at each other. "You…" she stopped. She walked around the island and stood next to him. "You are the only one I have ever loved. And I still love you, Oliver. Though some days I do wonder why I bother." Oliver stared at his glass. "God dammit, will you look at me?!" she shouted. Oliver gripped his glass. Iris gasped as hot tears ran down her cheeks. "So is this how it's going to be?"

He took a deep breath and looked up at her. Her bright green eyes were more alight with tears. Everything came rushing back at once. The pain. The guilt. He looked away. Maybe he wasn't ready for this. Iris gasped at the breadth of it as she felt everything running through him. But still, she refused to look into his mind. She needed to hear it from his lips.

"I can feel you, Oliver," she said softly. "Please. Just… say something." He sat, staring at his glass. Silent. Iris reached forward, touching his arm, just wanting him to know that physically she was there. Her mind wandered to that day at Hogwarts when she couldn't feel him and how relieved and joyful she was when she found him again. Oliver glanced down at her hand on his arm, seeing her memory as well.

"I promised I wouldn't look into your mind and I haven't. I can't help you unless you tell me what to do," she said. Oliver looked back at his glass, shaking his head. "Tell me what to do, Oliver!" Abruptly he pushed the chair out and stood.

"I don't know what to tell you, Iris!" he shouted. He looked up at her, his eyes brimming with guilt. "I… every time I look at you… I see how I failed you."

"That's not true-"

"But it is! It's because of me that you…" he stopped. A sob escaped Iris' lips. She reached for him.

"It's not you-" He moved away from her. "Please, Oliver. Don't push me away!" He turned his back on her, feeling the onslaught of emotions. More tears rolled down Iris' cheeks. She wanted nothing more to look into his mind and see what he wasn't telling her, what was causing him to beat himself up this way, but she wouldn't. She didn't want to break that trust with him. It was about the only thing they had at that moment.

"I don't want you to know," he said.

"We're never going to move forward unless you talk to me," she said. "And I don't know how much longer I can take of this… this wall between us." His head dropped as he sighed. He turned around and looked at her, the pain apparent in his eyes. She was right. He knew it. Not but a few hours ago he had every intention of opening up to her. And yet, he was still resisting. He walked passed her and sat on the sofa. Cautiously, Iris walked over and sat next to him. He leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his face, steeling himself.

"I don't know if I can do this," he whispered. Iris placed her hand on his leg.

"You can. You're strong enough," she said softly. He took a deep breath.

"When I saw you… that day… when you showed up and… I thought you were dead," he said. "I thought you had died and it was my fault." Without thinking, Iris looked into his mind. She saw herself lying on the ground, lifeless. Oliver was weeping over her.

"Iris! Come back to me!"

A tear slid down Iris' cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Oliver," she said. He looked at her, shaking his head.

"No, you have no reason to apologize. You were only there because of me," he said. It was Iris' turn to shake her head.

"I will not let you put this on yourself, Oliver. You had no idea that Brom would try to trap you that night," she said. "You've got to stop blaming yourself for what happened to me. I certainly don't blame you." He took a deep breath, looking away. "Besides… it's because of me that you had to go into hiding. Not to mention all the worry I caused you..."

Oliver looked back up at her. Iris had turned to look into the fire.

"I put you all in danger. It's because of me that you had to run… I cursed you with my past," she said. Her own dark memories resurfaced. Years of hiding and always looking over her shoulder. She wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy. Oliver sucked in a quick breath as he felt the wave of emotions rolling through her. He caught a glimpse of her memories. Iris sighed heavily, pulling him back into the present.

"I saw… did you mean for me to see that?" he asked. Iris looked over at him, eyes wide. She didn't realize she had projected on him. He shouldn't have been able to see anything unless she willed it.

"No… you shouldn't be able to see…," she murmured. "Not unless I want you to."

"Perhaps… it's our connection," he said. Iris thought for a moment. It would make sense. Even Harry still sometimes got a glimpse into her mind. It just didn't happen as often nowadays - now that she had gotten control. She looked up at him, still feeling his guilt. She reached up and placed her hand on his face, determined to make him see that he had saved her - not doomed her. Oliver closed his eyes as the images flew through his mind. Iris spending all that time on the run. Alone. Scared. Unable to trust.

She showed him those days when he would visit her at Headquarters. How she slowly opened up to him. That day at Hogwarts when she told him everything. And he said he loved her. She showed him everything from her perspective - not holding back anything that she had felt during those times.

"You cannot run from love, Iris. Love makes you stronger," Lupin said.

Oliver blinked, his sight coming into focus on Iris' face.

"You see… you did save me. You were always the key to staying in control," she said. Oliver shook his head, looking away.

"But I didn't protect you that day," he said. Iris leaned closer to him.

"No one could protect me, Oliver. I couldn't even protect myself. Not then. I needed to… I needed to find that strength within myself," she said. "But you were always there in my mind when I slept. The thought of seeing you again, being with you, kept me alive and fighting." Oliver laughed a bit haggardly.

"It was you that kept me going while we were on the run," he said, glancing at her. "The thought of you waking up. Though I'll admit, there were days I started to lose hope. But Tonks and her insufferable optimism. She was determined not to let me." Iris smiled at the memory of the purple-haired woman. Her friend. Iris looked into his mind, seeing her clearly there. Tears sprung into her eyes.

"She will come back. You have to stay strong for her, Oliver," she said. Oliver shook his head, pacing.

"It's my fault," he said.

"Would you stop with the bloody pacing! It's giving me a headache!" she shouted, her hair turning bright orange. Oliver stopped and looked at her. Tonks walked over to him. "Iris is strong. So much stronger than any of us. She will wake up. She will come back. And she'll be beyond pissed if she finds you've gone off the deep end." Oliver smiled down at the witch.

"Very well," he said. Tonks smiled.

"Good. Now get cleaned up," she ordered.

"Why?"

"Because we're having a wedding."

The scene changed. She saw Tonks and Remus standing in the middle of a small living room awash in candlelight. Oliver stood to the side and watched as they quietly said their vows and kissed, Tonks' face bright with happiness. A lone tear traced down Oliver's cheek as he thought of Iris.

"There were moments of happiness," he said, bringing Iris back to the present. "But most of it was… running. Trying to stay ahead of the Death Eaters and snatchers. It got harder once Tonks got pregnant. But we managed." Iris nodded.

"You were there when he was born?" she asked. Oliver nodded.

"Not in the room or anything, but I was in the house. He was so tiny," he mused. "Looked so much like… like the both of them. They named him Teddy." Iris leaned over and put her head on his shoulder. Oliver looked down at her. He then reached up and wrapped his arm around her. Iris sighed. It was the first time he had held her like this outside of his sleep since they left his parents' house.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there," Iris said softly. "I should have been there. I could have… done something." Oliver felt a sharp pain in his chest at her apology. He hadn't realized how much she had been struggling with her own guilt.

"We can't change anything. All that matters now, is that you came back," he said. More than that, he found himself actually believing it. The pain and guilt were still there. As well as the sorrow. But it had gotten a bit lighter. A bit easier to breath.

He had missed this. This closeness that they had.

"I missed this too," Iris said.

"Are you planning on spending the rest of the night in my head?" Oliver asked, his voice holding a hint of a smile. Iris' heart soared. She could hear it. The old Oliver. She sat up and looked at him.

"No. I plan to spend the rest of the night here. Talking to you," she said, smiling. Oliver leaned in, brushing her lips with his. A shiver went through Iris. They stared at each other a moment before Oliver covered her mouth with his. Iris relished the moment, but still pulled away, staring deep into Oliver's eyes. "I've missed you," she whispered.

"I've missed you too," he said. "And… there is more… but I just… I need a bit more time." Iris nodded.

"Take as much time as you need, Oliver," she said. "I'm just glad that you're talking." Oliver smiled.

"God, I've missed kissing you," he said, a twinkle in his eye and he leaned in to kiss her again. Iris giggled. From behind them came the sound of someone clearing his throat.

"As happy as this makes me, I'm a bit hungry and wondering what we're doing about supper?" Harry said from the corridor. Iris and Oliver looked over.

"Ah, sorry about that, Harry. We got a bit distracted," Iris said, glancing at Oliver.

"No worries. Maybe some sort of takeout would suffice? I volunteer to go," he said, grinning. "I was thinking that Chinese place we saw earlier today."

"That sounds like a grand idea. Take your time," Oliver said. Iris laughed, shaking her head.

"I'll be back in about an hour then," Harry said before turning and walking out the door.

"We've got one hour," Oliver said, giving Iris a look. Her eyes widened as she noticed the mischievous glint in them. In one smooth move, he stood and pulled Iris up into his arms.

"Oliver William Wood! What are you doing?" she shouted as he started carrying her towards their room.

"Making the best of an hour."

Later that night after dinner, while they lie in bed, arms wrapped around each other, Iris sighed contently.

"So, how are things going at the shop?" Oliver asked. It was almost as though the floodgates had been opened. While he was still hesitant to get into too much of the last year, he wanted to know everything from Iris. It was almost as it was before.

"Well. There's a lot of work to be done. Getting the shop put right again probably won't take too long, but it's going to take awhile to restock the shelves," she said. "It was hard for George at first, but I think the more time we spend there, the easier it gets."

"I imagine he's had a right hard time," Oliver said, feeling bad that he hadn't been there more for his friend. Iris nodded.

"He and Percy both. But Percy had his work at the Ministry to help him - now that he's been made head of a department. And George now has the shop. I think they'll be okay in time," she said.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Perce as well?" Oliver asked. Iris glanced up at him.

"Well, it's not like I was getting a lot of stimulating conversation here," she joked. Oliver flinched.

"I deserved that," he said.

"At least you're finally opening up," she said.

"So tell me about this James who was never actually a muggle. Harry says he's some sort of ex-boyfriend of yours," he said, changing the subject. Iris laughed softly.

"Like I said, he's an old friend. Harry and I ran into him today in Diagon Alley. Frightened the daylights out of me," she said. "But turns out the entire time I had been trying to hide who I was, he was doing the same."

"I recognized him. He was a few years ahead of me at Hogwarts. In Ravenclaw. His family is one of the 28," he said. Iris looked up at him.

"What's that?" she asked. "Some sort of special pureblood club?" Oliver chuckled.

"The Sacred 28. Twenty-eight families who are considered completely pureblood. The Weasleys are one as well," he said.

"That would explain James' father's obsession with getting him to marry a pureblood witch," she responded.

"He's getting married?" he asked, perking up at the news.

"Not yet, no. But his father is already trying to arrange something," she said. "Ghastly business, arranged marriages." Oliver frowned.

"I wouldn't much like that," he said. "What if you got stuck with someone you hated?"

"Would make for a very unhappy marriage," Iris replied. The two were silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts about marriage. Iris wasn't sure she was ready to dive into that topic just yet.

"What's this about turning down a job at the ministry?" Oliver asked, suddenly changing the subject again.

"Oh, ehm, Shacklebolt came by and asked me to be an auror," Iris said, grateful for the change. "I… it didn't feel right." Oliver looked down at her.

"With your gifts, it seems like the perfect job for you," he said. Iris sighed.

"Perhaps. But I'm not sure I want to go running off to some dangerous job," she said. "And I couldn't abandon George."

"Well, he's not going to need you forever. Might be something to think about for the future," he said. Iris nodded.

"Perhaps," she said.

"You're tempted to take it, aren't you?" he asked. Iris shrugged.

"I'm… curious. But at the same time, when you spend your entire life running from danger, it seems a bit foolish to go willingly running back into it," she said. "Besides, we already have enough aurors in the family."

"Makes sense," Oliver finally said after thinking about it a moment. Iris yawned.

"As much as I would love to spend the entire night talking with you, I fear I can't keep my eyes open another minute," she said, smiling. Oliver leaned down and kissed her again.

"Get some rest. Plenty more time tomorrow to talk," he said. Iris settled in next to him and closed her eyes.

"Oliver," she said.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Red."