Disclaimer: I do not own anything!
A/N: Hi, hello, we've finally reached Year 7! This chapter was hard to write because I also wanted to add Iris' snippets during 7th year. I drew inspiration from 'O Children' by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. This song was on loop until I was able to finish the chapter and I really, really love the song. Try listening to that song too just to complete the mood. If it helps, this song was the one featured during Harry and Hermione's dance in Deathly Hallows. I know it wasn't book canon, but the dance was one of my favourite scenes in the whole franchise. Hermione's 'Mudblood' scar wasn't book canon too but I loved it also hahaha.
Anyway, enough ramblings. Enjoy!
Chapter Seven: Seventh Year/Horcrux Hunt
Forgive us now for what we've done
It started out as a bit of fun
- O Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Hermes beamed widely as Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour-Weasley took their first dance as a married couple.
Mrs Weasley was in tears, hand over her heart, as she watched her eldest embark in a journey she had been in for years. Ginny was beaming widely, fond tears rolling down her eyes, as Harry silently placed his hand on the small of her back for comfort. Ron was ridiculously trying to stop his tears from falling but to no avail.
It was a happy day. Familiar faces swarmed the small, but homely tent the Weasleys had put up near the Burrow. Drinks overflowed, Mrs Weasley's mouth-watering homemade food decorated the long table, and a festive band played music to entertain the guests.
Fleur later found him chatting with the Weasley twins and then pulled him onto the dance floor.
"You look beautiful, Fleur," Hermes complimented with a brilliant grin. It was strangely reminiscent of the Yule Ball back when he was fourteen, knowing he had the most beautiful girl in his arms. Fleur hadn't changed one bit, still as beautiful as ever. Her Veela powers had marginally toned down now that she found her mate but still, staring at her a little too long made his brain go all fuzzy.
"You 'ave grown taller!" she exclaimed. Even with her heels, the top of her head was on the same level as his chin. Back in fourth year, she still reached him up to his cheek.
"What can I say? I'm continuously growing," he cheekily replied, twirling the new bride on the dance floor. Fleur tilted her head and released a melodic laugh. When he pulled her back into his arms, he gave her a fond smile. "I'm happy you found happiness in Bill, Fleur. He's brilliant!"
Fleur glanced at her husband lovingly. "'e is, isn't 'e?" she said with that thick French accent of hers, blushing prettily when Bill gave her a smile in return.
"I actually thought you liked me back in fourth year," he joked, mock hurt on his face.
She pinched him on his side, prompting him to yelp in pain. "Silly, after all zese years," she giggled, tiptoeing a little to pinch both of his cheeks this time. "Still no girl in your 'eart, 'Ermes?"
A flash of blonde. A pair of grey eyes. A flowery scent.
Fleur's eyes widened before he could even lie. "There is!" she gasped in surprise, placing a hand over his heart, which he was sure was beating wildly inside his ribcage.
He blushed and looked away from her searching gaze.
"What is 'er name?" she asked with great interest in her eyes.
"It doesn't matter, Fleur," he quickly replied, desperate to change the subject. "This day is all about you, after all!" When she still looked at him in amusement, he sighed and murmured under his breath, "Some other time, Fleur. When everything… when everything's back to normal."
Her blue eyes dimmed a little, perhaps thinking of the dark things she had witnessed for the past few days.
Ever since Dumbledore died, the Wizarding World had been in utter chaos. People were starting to fear going outside since the Death Eater attacks increased. Even the Muggle World were being targeted, numerous news about mysterious attacks broadcasted on TV stations.
Hermes' heart clenched in pain as he remembered offering a newly obliviated Monica and Wendell Wilkes a ride to the airport for them to catch a plane to Australia. "Celebrating our anniversary by moving out of this country," Wendell joked, clapping him on the back, and thanking him for his graciousness. Monica hugged him, commenting that it was nice for their kind neighbour to bring them to the airport. It took him a lot of great effort to leave the airport after that, heart breaking into two with every step he took.
"You look sad, little Gryffindor," she said, placing a gentle hand against his cheek. She absentmindedly brushed the dark bag under his eye and frowned.
He sighed and gathered her in his arms, breathing in her scent. To his dismay, Fleur smelt of vanilla rather than familiar flowers. "Be happy, Fleur," he then murmured. Hermes placed a kiss on her forehead and passed her back to her husband, pointedly ignoring the sadness in her clear, blue eyes.
Hermes looked around and searched for Harry, soon finding him seated on one of the tables, a troubled look on his face. "You all right, mate?" he asked, taking the seat beside Harry.
"I just realised I do not know the greatest wizard of the Wizarding World after all," he murmured, deep in thought.
Hermes' eyebrows knitted together in confusion, then shot a glance at the man Harry was conversing with a while ago. He recognised him as Elphias Doge, who had written quite a moving piece of article for Dumbledore on the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.
"What's that?" Harry suddenly quipped.
He looked back at his best friend and frowned. "What's what?"
"Shhh," Harry said. Hermes' pursed his lips and worriedly looked at the bespectacled boy, only to hear a peculiar sound that wasn't there before.
He looked at the ominous black sky, devoid of any stars despite the lack of bright lights in the Burrow. The Aurors stationed outside looked uneasy, too, and Hermes started to feel bothered himself.
Just then, the sound grew louder until a bright, white light shot at the very centre of the tent. Harry and Hermes were instantly on their feet, recognising Kingsley's patronus. The lynx galloped around and showed the most horrific sight.
"The ministry has fallen," the lynx said, projecting Kingsley's voice. "The minister is dead." Horrified gasps rang throughout the guests. "Death Eaters are coming."
The lynx evaporated into silvery mists, leaving deafening silence in its wake. As soon as the last fog disappeared, ruckus erupted. The Aurors swarmed inside and hastily evacuated the civilians.
Hermes' felt his eyes water at the sight of Fleur and Bill, heartbreak in their eyes as they gave each other a loving kiss.
He met Ron's gaze across the room. The redhead tore through the stampeding guests and finally reached his best friends.
"This is it, isn't it?" Ron blurted out. It was more of a statement rather than a question, his blue eyes piercing intently into Harry's.
Harry himself had grown pale and sickly, but there was a steely determination in his emerald eyes. He gazed at Hermes and Ron as his lips thinned in grave seriousness. "You don't have to come with me, you know," he whispered. Despite the uproar, Hermes perfectly heard him. "Hunting horcruxes is dangerous and you don't have… you don't have to sacrifice your safety just to come with me."
Hermes swallowed the sudden nervousness he felt and earnestly shook his head, his curly hair bouncing wildly in the air. "You are stupid if you think we will abandon you, Harry," he protested. "After all these years…" He reached out and clasped arms with Harry. "We're brothers through and through."
Harry's emerald eyes glistened in gratitude, then turned his gaze at Ron. The redhead clasped Harry's other arm and broke into a wide grin. "Brothers through and through."
The-Boy-Who-Lived squeezed their arms, relaying the bursting gratitude he felt for their friendship, then side-along apparated them away from the commotion to embark on perhaps the Golden Trio's most dangerous adventure to date.
Iris did not understand why she was here.
As she trudged through the dreary walls of Hogwarts, students scampered away, terrified looks in their eyes as the blonde Death Eater passed by. Iris kept her gaze straight and steady, unwilling to show any emotions that told them it bothered her immensely.
She thought after running away with Snape and the other Death Eaters last June, she'd be allowed not to attend her seventh year. She thought she'd finally join Voldemort's inner circles, participate in planning revels and attacks, and listen to whatever bullshit the Dark Lord yammered about while she looked the part, false adoration in her eyes.
"Voldemort's orders," Headmaster Snape curtly replied when she demanded why she had to return for her seventh year. And Iris, despite the sudden desperation blooming in her heart, knew she had no other choice but to accept it. Because, as what Snape had pointed out, it was Voldemort's orders. No one questioned whatever was going through that terrifying mind of his.
Predictably, students avoided her like the great plague itself. The animosity behind their eyes was always overpowered by the sheer horror of knowing the likes of her walked amongst them. After all, as far as she knew, she was the only Death Eater student attending Hogwarts; the first of her peers. Iris had an inkling she was ordered to come back here to become the poster child of Voldemort's promised new world. They needed a model, someone to look up to, and who was more fitting than Dumbledore's almost murderer?
Iris' hand shook but she curled it into a fist. Over the summer, she had gotten better in reining in her emotions. Snape took it upon himself to train her with Occlumency until she was bone-deep tired but very much ready. Breakdowns had lessened because it was a necessity. Voldemort abhorred weakness; the Malfoys had just escaped severe punishment all thanks to her aide, but still, the Dark Lord had never forgotten she had defied one of his important orders in the end and let Snape kill Dumbledore. Iris didn't want to give Voldemort a reason to Avada her without much thought.
She briefly glanced at her watch and grimaced. She was running late for her next class, the Dark Arts, but she worried more about attending it than ditching it. Ever since Death Eaters infiltrated Hogwarts, the curriculum had changed. The students were being forced to embrace the Dark Arts fully, so learning defences about it was a waste of time. She had very much wanted to ditch said class, but after attempting to do it one time, Snape had ordered her to come to the Headmaster's office.
"You have to keep up appearances, Iris," her stern godfather said. "I don't care whatever you're going through, but for the sake of your mother, you have to keep appearances."
Iris took a deep, calming breath and closed her eyes. This was all for her mother, to keep her safe. Lucius had escaped from Azkaban all thanks to Voldemort but all the respect she had for her father was long gone. She did not care whatever happened to him anymore because this was his entire fault. Her mother, on the other hand… her poor, poor mother who had been nothing but brave and strong…
Thinking about her mother, Iris urged herself to walk faster back to her Common Room and grab her things. If it meant she had to endure another godforsaken class, just to keep her mother safe, then so be it.
When she strode into the Slytherin Common Room, she was surprised to see that Theo and Blaise were still inside, seemingly waiting for her. Blaise was already holding onto her designer bag, and immediately stood up upon seeing her come in.
"Where the hell have you been?" he snarled, slight irritation in his eyes.
"I didn't tell you to wait for me, Zabini," she snapped in return, trying to snatch her bag away but he held on tighter.
"Let me carry it for you," he clipped, a tone of finality in his voice.
Iris sighed and stopped herself from running a hand through her hair in frustration.
"You shouldn't go around Hogwarts alone, princess," Theo said with a serious frown, also standing up from the couch. "You know what Snape – "
"I know what Snape said," she snarled, turning on her heel and hastily walking out of the Common Room once more. "But I am not a child. Not anymore. I don't need bodyguards."
Theo snorted. "Right, of course, bodyguards," he snarkily replied.
Iris's cheeks reddened but she refused to look over her shoulder to glare at him.
"Where have you been?" Blaise insisted, gently this time, falling into step beside her.
Her wand hand shook again and she had to cover it with her other hand to hide it from Blaise's worried gaze.
"It doesn't matter, Blaise," she said with a sigh. "Come on. We're running late."
"Iris," he whispered in exasperation, grabbing onto her elbow stop her from walking. The blonde Slytherin had no choice but to turn around and look at the two wizards. "If you still think that we're fucking doing this because Snape ordered us to, then you're more obtuse than we've originally thought."
She lifted her chin in defiance. "How dare you talk at me like that," she sneered, forcefully pulling her elbow away.
Theo, who had always been carefree and annoying, looked too serious it was almost unsettling. "We're not like bloody Crabbe and Goyle who would follow your every command, Iris," he said with a stern frown. "We're here to help you."
"Help me?" she asked, bordering shrilly. "To what? To punish despicable students with the Unforgivables? To reign terror over the student body? To… to murder whomever our precious Dark Lord ordered me to?"
"Shh," Theo furiously whispered, quickly looking around to see if somebody was there to witness her tirade.
Blaise's face darkened as he reached forward. Iris almost flinched away, but felt him wipe some moisture away underneath her eyes.
Iris took a deep, shuddering breath, hating herself for crying once more. "I am not weak," she grounded out. "I do not need help."
Theo sighed and slid closer, placing a comforting hand at the small of her back. "We never said you are weak, princess," he said in comfort. "Iris Malfoy is never weak. Never. But that doesn't mean you don't need any help. We're… we're your bloody friends, no matter how much you loathed that stupid word. You don't have to endure everything alone. Not during this time, Iris. Especially not this time."
She hated herself how much comfort Theo's words gave to her. She wasn't supposed to rely on other people, after everything that had happened. This was all her fault, all her family's fault, and people should not get too close if they did not want to get hurt in the end.
But Blaise and Theo… such stubborn blokes. Iris always had an inkling they volunteered their services even before Snape thought of ordering them to protect the Death Eater. Crabbe and Goyle were too much of a buffoon; they wouldn't be able to defend themselves, much less her.
"Whatever," she finally murmured, cheeks turning pink when she saw Blaise and Theo's exchange amused glances. "We're bloody late, so get a move on, you gits."
Theo did not remove the hand against her back, which she didn't mind at all. Unlike Crabbe and Goyle, who usually walked behind her, Theo and Blaise had no qualms of walking beside her. Unwittingly, her lips twitched into a small smile. If her father saw her with them right now, he'd start hinting about Pureblood marriages once again. Ever since these two blokes were recruited in the Inquisitorial Squad with her back in fifth year, Lucius had been insisting for her to choose a worthy husband for the Malfoy family fortune. It was, after all, one of her important duties as a future Pureblood wife.
Although they were both handsome and intelligent, with a fortune that almost rivalled the Malfoy family, their hair… their hair wasn't curly enough. Or their eyes weren't honey-coloured. Or… or they didn't smell of toffees.
Iris desperately tried to push those memories away as they finally stumbled inside the Dark Arts classroom. There was no use dwelling on the past.
"Ah, Miss Malfoy, you've finally arrived," Amycus Carrow, the current Dark Arts professor, greeted with a leering smile. His gaze shifted over Theo and Blaise flanking her side but didn't bother addressing them.
She lifted her chin and did not offer him any excuses as she walked through the aisle towards her usual table at the very front. Blaise and Theo sat on each of her sides.
"As I was saying before," Carrow said, strolling towards the front, "today, we will be learning about the Cruciatus Curse."
Iris flinched at the mention of the Unforgivable, memories of being the receiving end of that hateful curse rushing back into her mind. Blaise quietly placed a hand on top of hers underneath their desk, relaying as much comfort as he could.
Carrow's eyes were bright and menacing as he pulled out his wand and waved it in the air. Instantly, five people materialised in front. Horrified gasps ran rampant while Iris' steadily grew paler. Longbottom, the youngest Weasley, Lovegood, Colin Creevey, and Ernie McMillan were at the very front, hands bound in chains, looking worse for the wear.
"These five students," Carrow drawled, "have been found to be breaking the rules in this school. Mr Filch had taken care of their detention, but, with Headmaster Snape's permission, I think it would be most practical for all of you, including these troublemakers, to learn a lesson."
"You can't… you can't possibly be suggesting we'll practice the Cruciatus on them," a visibly shaken Seamus Finnegan exclaimed, utter disgust and horror in his eyes.
"Why, Mr Finnegan, that is exactly what I am suggesting," he said. "Let this session serve as a lesson for you never to defy the Dark Lord's orders."
The classroom had gone deathly quiet. Iris' wand hand started shaking once more and this time, Theo grabbed onto her hand to calm her down.
"Now," the slimy Death Eater continued, "who would like to volunteer?"
No one dared to breathe as his eyes scanned the audience. Iris tried not to make any unnecessary movements because she knew… she knew.
Her heart plummeted to her stomach when Carrow's eyes landed on her and did not shift away. "Why don't you come up in front and show your skills, Miss Malfoy," he said with an encouraging smirk. "I'm sure this will not be your first time."
Blaise and Theo had been holding her hand in a death grip underneath the desk. Iris took a deep breath, blocked the terror away, before letting a small smirk slip on her face. "Of course, Professor," she coolly replied, slowly rising from her seat. Her hands were red and raw from her friends' grips, but she'd rather hold onto them than do what she was about to do.
"You must keep up appearances," Headmaster Snape's words echoing in her ear as she strode forward and chose to stand in front Ginny Weasley. The fire and hate in her eyes were refreshing; at least, despite how bleak Hogwarts had become, there were still those who did not lose their spark.
"Scared, Weasley?" she sweetly asked, raising her wand and thanking the gods above her hand wasn't violently shaking.
The Gryffindor's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Never," she whispered with an intensity that shook Iris up to her core.
'Good,' Iris thought, relief washing over her form.
"We don't have all day, Miss Malfoy," Carrow cajoled with a sickening sneer on his face. "We have to give a chance to others, too."
Her grey eyes turned steely for a moment, before carefully crafted indifference once again masked her face. Iris briefly shot a look at Blaise and Theo, a silent order in her eyes. Blaise and Theo gave a slight tilt of their heads, recognising her request.
Iris took another deep breath and raised her wand. It would not do her some good if she released a weak curse. Carrow would surely report her to Voldemort if he saw at least a slight hesitation in the young Death Eater.
"Crucio," she exclaimed without wavering.
Ginny's pained screams filled the whole classroom. Carrow was cackling gleefully, unable to notice a shot of red and blue simultaneously hitting Weasley on her right foot. Instantly, she fell unconscious before the Cruciatus Curse could wear off.
"Well, well, what a powerful one," the professor said with disappointment in his eyes. He looked back at the horrified students and said, "Only a powerful Cruciatus can render the victim unconscious within minutes. Even the most powerful wizards struggle to cast a perfect Cruciatus Curse. I doubt you lot can cast one. I surely don't." His black eyes landed on Iris once more, a look of resigned awe and fascination in his eyes. "Except Miss Malfoy here."
Iris straightened her back despite the hateful glares she got from the other students. "Of course," she primly said, marvelling at how she was able to slide around on the bench without quaking like a leaf.
The Dark Arts lesson dragged on for a few more hours. Carrow handpicked more students to practice on the incarcerated pupils. Blaise, Iris, and Theo were a perfect mask of innocence and indifference, deftly flicking their wands underneath their desk to shoot a Stunning Curse and a Numbing Curse at the same time to lessen the effects of the Cruciatus.
They had been doing this ever since the start of the school year. So far, they were getting away with it every time. Amycus Carrow was as thick as a log and wouldn't recognise anything strange even if it was happening right under his nose.
Iris knew they would never be this lucky in the future. There were moments when they were almost caught, and although it sickened her to do so, sometimes she had to turn a blind eye when one student would be forced to put a Cruciatus on another in fear of being caught.
Carrow was steadily growing impressed and disgruntled at the powerful spells the students were casting, loudly wondering how in Merlin's name they were able to cast a powerful Cruciatus to render the victim unconscious.
"Iris," Blaise murmured under his breath. "We should stop now. Carrow is growing suspicious."
But she resolutely shook her head. "No," she vehemently whispered under her breath. "Keep casting, Zabini."
Unbeknownst to Iris, Ginny Weasley started to wake up blearily from her stunning spell. Her blue eyes eyed the three Slytherins in confusion, watching them as they secretly shot simultaneous blue and red spells behind Carrow's back.
"Ron had always been stupid, you know."
A brief, sad smile appeared on Harry's face. "Always," he said with a weak nod. The smile fell away from his face as he stared blankly into space once more, lost in thought.
Hermes tried to bat away any depressing and hateful thoughts from his mind but the horcrux locket hanging around his neck made it very difficult.
Earlier that morning, Ron had snapped and left their tent without another glance back. He and Harry had just a terrible row, Ron vehemently pointing things that had struck a nerve at Harry.
"Bloody Boy-Who-Lived, never really liked it when the attention isn't on you now, is it, Harry? Well, breaking news, the world does not revolve around you and it never will!" Ron's tirade still rang loudly in their ears, Hermes' heart breaking into two as he watched one of his best friends turning his back and walking away from them.
He wanted to blame the necklace entirely. After all, it was Ron's turn to wear it and guard it against anyone who wished to steal it from them. But, after running around blindly, still without any precise location of all the horcruxes, they were starting to grow weary with hunger and exhaustion. Eventually, one of them would snap. Harry did tell them they weren't obligated to stay and had therefore chosen to brood over Ron's betrayal instead of running after him.
Fury for the redhead bloomed in his heart. 'He'd always been jealous of everybody,' a sinister voice whispered against his ear. 'Always wanting what's best. HA! Rightful git never deserved the best. He'd always turned his back on you and Harry. Forget the bloody git. He isn't worth it. He is worthless. He is a good-for-nothing. He is – '
Hermes angrily tore the necklace from his neck and threw it on his bed.
Harry glanced at his direction in surprise. "Hermes, you know our agreement – "
"I know, Harry," he said with an exhausted sigh. The terrible weight the necklace always seemed to give to the wearer had finally been lifted and all Hermes felt was exhaustion and sadness. "But… but just a moment, Harry. The stupid necklace had been driving me barmy."
The-Boy-Who-Lived sadly nodded and gazed far away once more, his emerald eyes unseeing.
Hermes ran a tired hand across his face and darted a glance at the small radio inside their tent. It was blasting a soft, sad song that did nothing to alleviate their moods.
"Oh, fuck it," he finally murmured. Harry glanced at him questioningly once more, but Hermes was already grabbing his beaded bag from his makeshift cot. He stared at it for a few seconds, heart swelling at the reminder that this once belonged to his currently Obliviated mother, before rummaging inside.
When he pulled back his hand, he was now clutching a bottle of Firewhiskey. With a flick of his wand, the bottle hovered in the air until it reached Harry.
"Firewhiskey?" The-Boy-Who-Lived asked, surprised.
"I think we both need a drink," Hermes said with a casual shrug, pulling out another bottle for himself.
Harry's eyes comically bulged out. "Err… mate, in case you've forgotten, we're in the middle of nowhere, camping in this… this bloody tent, and on the run from Death Eaters," he slowly said, looking at Hermes as if he'd gone mental. "We can't afford to get drunk right now."
A small smirk appeared on Hermes' face. "Don't worry, Harry. Technically it's not firewhiskey." He popped the cap open and took a huge gulp. He closed his eyes briefly as he welcomed the burning sensation in his throat. "This mimics the taste of firewhiskey without the terrible disadvantage of getting drunk." When Harry still looked at him dubiously, he urged, "Go on. Try it."
Harry slowly removed the cap with his wand and took a small sniff. "Well, it does smell like firewhiskey," he said, then took a small sip. With widened eyes, he looked back at Hermes. "It tastes like firewhiskey. Are you bloody well sure this doesn't have any alcohol content?"
"Yes, because I made it," Hermes pointed out matter-of-factly. Harry's mouth dropped in astonishment. "I experimented on it before because getting drunk is very inconvenient for my studying. So, every time you blokes force me to drink, I'd switch with this concoction."
"You sneaky bastard," Harry said with a loud, surprised laugh. "So that's why you never got drunk!"
Hermes took another swig. "Guilty," he said, a broad grin on his face.
Harry threw the cap at his direction, which missed him by inches. "Wanker," Harry said with another laugh. "You're no fun, Hermes." He took a few more sips, also closing his eyes as he let the liquid wash through his mouth. "Merlin, this tastes so good. I kinda missed the buzzy feeling, though."
"Don't ever spill my secrets, Potter," he lightly warned. "Or else."
Harry laughed as he tried to recount a funny incident when Ron was totally pissed after winning one Quidditch game and danced the 'Macarena' on a dare. Harry even comically stood up and even mimicked the dance; the dance a stark difference with the melancholy song blaring from the radio.
"What the hell was that, Potter?" Hermes cried, also jumping onto his feet to do his version of 'Macarena' and added other wild movements that had Harry doubling over in uncontrollable laughter.
They drank firewhiskey and danced all night, laughing until they couldn't breathe, laughing until tears fell from their eyes.
When all the firewhiskey Hermes had brought were gone, messy empty bottles strewn on the floor, Harry plopped down back onto his seat. The smile fell from his face but the tears still poured. "Ron is always a bloody wanker," he said, the hint of pain in his voice heard in the tone of his voice.
Hermes swiped the tears in his eyes with the back of his hand. "Always," he whispered in return.
The radio continued to blast a sad song, their momentary happiness gone, and now all that was left was the heavy burden they had no choice but to bear.
"Miss Malfoy, what are you doing here?"
The old caretaker narrowed his eyes in suspicion as Iris emerged from his rickety office. Mrs Norris meowed and stared at her with her wide, yellow eyes.
"I got curious what new methods of punishment you are doing to the rule-breakers," she smoothly lied, a small, pretty smile growing on her face. "I must say, they're truly remarkable, Mr Filch. More… innovative." A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the ghastly torture devices scattered around his office, remnants of blood splattered across some of the tools. His office smelt of burnt hair and flesh and vomit and Iris had to hastily grab onto the object she was going to steal to keep her lunch inside her stomach.
A pleased grin spread across Filch's face, thankfully buying her lie. "Headmaster Snape was gracious enough to let me use other means of punishment," he said with a reverent nod. "Fitting for those brats with grubby little hands and sneaky little tricks up their sleeves, eh?"
"Right," she said, turning slightly pale at the thought of being subjected with the torture devices in his office.
Iris then quickly bid him goodnight and strolled back to her dormitory. Thankfully, it was nearing curfew so only a few students roamed around the hallways. Most students now fear of stepping out of line, the punishment far greater than what Dumbledore and the other professor bestowed on rule-breakers before.
As she climbed into her Common Room, she sighed in relief to note that Blaise and Theo were nowhere to be found. Although their company had been of great comfort to her for the past few months, she'd instead not answer any questions she knew they would undeniably ask.
She greeted the other students in the Common Room with a cold nod before finally reaching the dormitories. The other girls were already asleep; their bed curtains were drawn close. Iris hastily changed her clothing and climbed onto her bed. As soon as she closed her bed curtains and muttered a soft 'Muffliato', she finally pulled out the small radio she had stolen from Filch's office.
Such devices were banned in Hogwarts. They were immediately confiscated because the staff discovered these kinds of radio broadcasted news about the resistance. Anyone caught with it would be severely punished. Iris still clearly remembered the multiple Cruciatus Zacharias Smith got from Alecto Carrow after discovering the very same radio Iris now possessed.
Iris tapped her wand tip on the radio thrice before whispering 'Longbottom'. Soft static blasted out from the radio before unmistakable voices started to report about the current state of the Light Side. Getting the password for Potterwatch was not an easy feat. Iris had to Imperio Colin Creevey to tell her the password for tonight.
A wizard named 'River' who eerily sounded like Lee Jordan spoke about the recent horrific events that were not reported in the Daily Prophet. Iris wrapped her blanket around her shoulders, quivering at all the horrors innocent people had to endure under Voldemort's reign.
"… Yes, yes, that's true. Now, picking up the latest stories by our charming, our dearly beloved, Chief Death Eater You-Know-Who: we've heard rumours that he keeps being sighted abroad," a guy named Rapier continued. Iris recognised Fred Weasley's voice. Or was it George's?
"Well, who wouldn't want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in," River replied with a sarcastic lilt in his voice.
Rapier snorted. "True, very true, mate," he said. "Now you lot listen here and listen very well. Just because our dearly beloved, most outstanding, magnificent Chief Death Eater is out of the country doesn't mean we're safe."
"Constant vigilance!" River exclaimed. Iris found herself smiling a little, now lying on her back as she continued to listen.
"Bloody hell yes, constant vigilance!" Rapier replied. "Speaking of which, our dear listeners, there have been sightings of numerous Dementors all over the country. Sources say that they are all doing You-Know-Who's bidding. And so, if you're all too lazy to listen during your third year, we just want to remind you a little Expecto Patronum will dispel those buggers away."
"Think very happy thoughts before casting such a nifty charm, yes?" River replied.
"Better than a Dementor's Kiss, I'll say!" Rapier replied with a snort.
"Anyway, that is it for this special broadcast of Potterwatch," River said. "Before we end, let us all take a moment of silence, in memory of those who have fallen."
Iris held her breath as he recounted the list of those who died fighting for the Light Side. When his name didn't come up, she released a deep shaky breath and smiled in relief.
"We do not know when we'll be back on air but be sure to be on the lookout, listeners!" River said. "The next password will be 'Mad-Eye'. And with that, we bid our goodbye. Good luck. Stay safe. Keep faith. And support Harry Potter!"
Their voices disappeared and there was static once more, before a soft, sad song started playing on the radio.
Iris shifted on her bed and lifted her blanket to her chin. As the music played in the background, lulling her to sleep, a small tear slipped down from her grey eyes and wondered if Hermes Granger was listening to the same music, too.
She knew it. She bloody well knew it.
Returning to the Malfoy Manor for Christmas was a bad idea.
Iris had debated whether she would stay in Hogwarts for Christmas or return to Malfoy Manor. Although Hogwarts wasn't the same anymore, she'd choose it over the latter, knowing that it would be swarming with Voldemort and his bloody Death Eaters. But Narcissa had begged for her to come over, and her mother never pleaded in her whole life. Besides, Lucius pointed out that Voldemort would expect her to be at the Malfoy Manor when he dropped by. The least she could do was to show her presence and be as invisible as possible.
Things had been tensed the first few days she came back. Her parents' relationship had never been the same anymore and Narcissa made it a mission to keep Iris away from Lucius as much as possible. Not that Iris had minded because she had other things to worry about, such as her terrifying aunt. Bellatrix had been lurking around their manor ever since she went home, proclaiming about bringing them back to the Dark Lord's good graces.
Everything had been mechanical for Iris, waiting in bated breath for Voldemort and his cronies to arrive. But then, one day, as Iris, her parents, and Bellatrix Lestrange prepared in the drawing room for Voldemort's arrival a few days from now, Fenrir Greyback and Scabior pulled three familiar faces into the drawing room of the Malfoy Manor. One was a redhead, far thinner and ganglier than the last time she'd seen him. The other, horribly disfigured, huge boils on his faces and a ridiculous pair of spectacles that were much too big for his deformed face... And the last one… the last one…
He hadn't changed at all. Maybe lost some weight due to months of starvation and exhaustion, making him look a little worn and tired. But his wild, curly hair was the same. His wide, honey-coloured eyes hadn't changed—eyes that looked at her with instant recognition, undeniable relief pouring through with the fact that she was still very much alive.
Iris looked away in horror, trying to force herself to breathe through her nose and calm herself down.
She didn't deserve that relief in his eyes. She had done a lot of atrocious things in the past months and she didn't deserve the happiness he had shown when his eyes landed on her.
"Well, what do we have here?" Bellatrix asked, idly twirling a strand of her hair with her wand as she stalked towards the captives.
"Saw them lot running around," Scabior said, throwing Ron to the ground. The redhead glared at him through his fringes. Scabior then prodded him with his dirty boot and sneered. "I instantly recognised the red hair. Definitely a Weasley. And him – "
One of the Snatchers threw Hermes to the ground. Scabior crouched down and grasped a handful of Hermes' curly hair to lift his head. "Undesirable Number Two," he gestured with a proud smirk. "The mudblood."
"So…" Bella's eyes landed on the horribly disfigured wizard and excitedly clapped her hands. "You must be Harry Potter!"
"NO!" Hermes bellowed. The barmy witch's eyes landed back on him. "No, please he's not. We were just hunting for food. Things had been difficult for the past few days."
"Silence!" Bella shrieked, kicking his head aside. Iris bit back a gasp and grew pale, seeing the blood that started to pour out of his mouth.
Her aunt suddenly whipped around and looked at her. "Iris, dearest!" she exclaimed, quickly striding towards the blonde. "You are in their year, yes?" She looked at Lucius excitedly. "She is, Lucius, isn't she?"
The gaunt looking man beside her, with scraggly hair and stubbles on his chin, solemnly nodded his head. "She is," he said, pushing Iris forward. "Go on, Iris. Tell Bella here that that is Harry Potter and his friends."
The Golden Trio's eyes instantly settled on her. Iris stilled as she broke into a cold sweat. Weasley was giving her the darkest glare he could muster. Potter's face was too disfigured for her to decipher what he was feeling. But her eyes… her eyes only saw him, and the sudden fear on his face.
Her vision blurred as Iris looked away. "I-I don't know," she stuttered. "I'm not entirely sure. We weren't close. A-and I haven't seen them for months."
"Nonsense, dearest," Bellatrix sweetly said, a dangerous glint in her eyes. She grabbed onto Iris' chin and forced her to look back at her classmates. "You've been with them for six years! I'm sure there's still some familiarity."
"I don't know, I swear," Iris pleaded as a small tear slipped down from her face. "I swear."
She steadfastly looked away from the Golden Trio, too afraid of what she'd see in Granger's eyes. Bellatrix grew thunderous at the moisture in her eyes and Iris hastily wiped them away.
"Listen very, very carefully, Iris," Bella said, her voice now dangerously low and threatening. Iris hesitantly met her murderous, black eyes and swallowed down her trepidation. "Think of what the Dark Lord will say if we personally delivered Harry Potter and his precious friends to him. HA! The Malfoy family will finally be back to his good graces."
But she furiously shook her head and refused to acknowledge them.
Bellatrix shrieked in anger and gave Iris a resounding slap on her cheek. The blonde backpedalled with the force and cradled her smarting cheek. "You useless bitch!" she thundered, pointing an accusatory finger at her general direction. "All of you. Useless!"
From the ground, Hermes Granger was desperately thrashing on the floor, a murderous look in his eyes, but Scabior kicked him on his head once more to effectively silence him.
Narcissa was suddenly beside her as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Never, ever hit my daughter, Bellatrix," she said with a voice that could turn water to ice. Iris glanced at her mother; she had never seen Narcissa incensed like this before. The last time she had lost her cool was probably on the day her father was sentenced to Azkaban.
Bellatrix snootily raised her nose in the air. "Narcissa dear, really, I am very disappointed with your family," she drawled contemptuously, then turned her head away to look at their visitors. "Bring them to the dungeons for now. I'll Owl Snape for some Veritaserum so that we can finally know once and for all, yes?"
The Snatchers hauled the Golden Trio back onto their feet. And Iris tried really, really hard not to glance at him but failed miserably. The fact that he was still very much alive relieved her immensely but for him, and Potter, and Weasley to get caught under Bellatrix' watchful eyes… Iris closed her eyes and looked away.
'I told you to be safe,' she mentally cried. 'I told you, Granger.'
When she opened her eyes once more, he was intensely looking at her. A small tear slipped as his honey-coloured eyes grew bright with warmth, the corner of his lips tugging into a small smile. She desperately wanted to break away and wrap her arms around him. She'd terribly missed his warm hugs that made her feel safe and comforted. But she stopped herself, because she could not act rash, not with Bellatrix breathing down their necks.
"WAIT!"
Iris flinched and watched with wide eyes as Bellatrix practically flew towards the Snatchers and grabbed onto Hermes.
"What is that?" she shrieked, pointing a finger at the sword slung on his side. Iris was too distracted with his eyes to notice it a while ago.
Hermes paled and stammered a lie, but Bellatrix already yanked him away from Scabior.
"Bring the other two to the dungeons," she ordered. Then, she sneered at Hermes and threw him on the ground. Hermes tried to scrambled onto his feet and escape, but Bellatrix already straddled him on the cold, drawing room floor, pinning him down.
Potter and Weasley were screaming bloody murder, their voices still echoing even as they were locked up down at the dungeons.
Iris had forgotten to breathe. Bellatrix neared her face at the terrified curly-haired brunet, baring her crooked, yellowed teeth.
"Where did you get that?" she demanded once more.
"I-I don't – "
Her resounding slap on Hermes' cheek clenched Iris' heart.
"Try again," the crazy witch snarled. She grabbed onto the sword and threw it away from his hand. "That sword is Godric Gryffindor's and it's been locked up in my family's vault for years. YEARS! How did you come upon this?"
"It's not the real one, I swear," Hermes begged. "It's fake. We have replicated it to – "
A piercing scream erupted from his mouth. Iris choked out a sob as Bellatrix carved wounds on his arm. She recognised that knife, cursed to leave a scar that no amount of magic or potions could wipe away.
"DID YOU GO INTO MY VAULT?" Bellatrix screamed. "DID YOU TAKE THIS SWORD FROM MY VAULT?"
"I didn't take anything, I promise, I promise," he pleaded, screaming once more when Bellatrix continued carving something on his arm.
"Please… stop…" Iris choked out, unknowingly shooting forward to try to push Bellatrix away. But Narcissa's hand was suddenly around her arm, keeping her in place. She shot a glance at her mother, but Narcissa's face was blank.
Iris closed her eyes and looked away until his screams finally died down and Bellatrix was cackling at the top of her lungs. "Look at this handy work I made!" she gleefully exclaimed, lifting Hermes' arm in the air. The raw and bleeding 'Mudblood' was carved on his forearm, forever branding his blood status on his arm.
"Bring me the goblin!" Bellatrix then ordered at Lucius.
The older wizard's gaze hardened. "I do not take orders from you, Bellatrix," he spat, his face twisting into an ugly sneer.
The crazed witch's eyes lit up with dark amusement. "Oh, Lucy dear, maybe you forget something," she claimed. "If it weren't for me, you'd be dead right now." Lucius paled, but the sneer on his face didn't falter. "So, bring the goblin to me. NOW!"
Lucius turned away without being told once more, returning minutes later with Griphook.
While Bellatrix interrogated the goblin regarding the authenticity of the Sword, Iris' eyes were affixed on Granger. He lay motionless on the ground, too exhausted from his torture and the dark magic imparted by the cursed blade. The only indication that he still was alive was his shallow, ragged breathing.
She needed to get to him, to make sure that he was all right, and she tried to retrieve her hand away Narcissa's grip but she just held on tighter.
"Mother, let go," she softly pleaded, tears still steadily streaming down from her eyes.
"Don't do anything rash, Iris," Narcissa replied with a steely tone. Her mother shot a glance at where Lucius stood beside Griphook. Lucius was shooting a strange, confused look at their direction but Bellatrix was thankfully oblivious with Iris' tears.
"I-I have to… please."
A sudden loud bang resounded in the whole room. The extravagant chandelier hanging overhead came hurtling down and Iris immediately pushed her mother away. It crashed just on the spot where she and Narcissa were a while ago, its glasses now a shattered mess on the cold floor.
Spells were exchanged as Potter and Weasley dulled with Bellatrix and Lucius. Iris crouched down and crawled away from the commotion, blindly searching for Granger.
She saw him propped against the far wall, trying to stand up and help his best friends but all his attempts were futile. His wand was out and he was trying to shoot spells where the general direction of the fight was, but Bellatrix' torture had exhausted him so. Beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead and he looked pale… so pale.
He froze when his eyes found hers. She was a few meters away and Iris found herself unable to move.
Then, his eyes filled with warmth once more, a small smile growing on his face.
"I'm so glad you're alive," he whispered for only her to hear.
Her heart clenched because his words were genuine. After everything she'd done, how could he say that?
But Iris crawled closer, her eyes never leaving his warm browns. His hand was already outstretched, waiting for her to reach him.
"STUPEFY!"
Iris immediately ducked away so as not to get hit by the Stunning Curse. When she looked back at where Hermes was, Potter and Weasley were already hauling him up and dragging him away. Their previous House-Elf, Dobby was casting brief spells wildly to buy time for the Golden Trio to escape.
"Don't let them get away!" Bellatrix shrieked, throwing her cursed blade towards their direction.
Dobby hastily grabbed onto the Golden Trio and then, they all disappeared.
Bellatrix released an angry shout and threw dark spells blindly.
Iris hid underneath the chandelier, thanking the heavens above that they got away.
Harry Potter was dead and Voldemort was encouraging them to join the dark side.
Everything was a blur to Hermes, still in shock at the sight of his very best friend he'd tried to protect for years, lying motionless on the ground.
Grief washed over him like a great tidal wave, not even bothering to wipe away the tears that steadily flowed down his eyes. 'Harry,' he thought, his mind too jumbled to form a coherent sentence. 'Harry.'
Hermes closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. If he was going to die today, then so be it. As a Muggleborn under Voldemort's reign, he knew he would have it the worse, especially as the famous Mudblood, One-Third of the Golden Trio.
Ron was crying openly, blue eyes hard with anger and grief, and Hermes tried to reach him, to tell him that he was still there for him, but he felt too tired and drained to move.
Harry Potter was dead and he did not know what to do.
Neville was making a statement that sparked an uproar in their side. But how could they still have hope when Harry Potter was dead? The only person who could defeat the Dark Lord was killed once and for all and all hope… all hope was lost.
Hermes' eyes landed on the Death Eaters all lined up behind Voldemort, mock sneers and jeers on their faces, cackling as they taunted their side of how Voldemort had slaughtered Harry Potter like a pig. But he ignored all of them, desperately searching for the grey eyes that had haunted his dreams for the last few months.
And then, he saw her, surprised to see that she was also looking back at him. The look in her eyes was indecipherable but that didn't matter.
If he was going to die today, the last thing he wanted to see was her grey eyes.
Suddenly, there was a loud uproar. Voldemort's speech about the new world was interrupted as a spell hit his last horcrux, Nagini.
"What the fuck?" Ron exclaimed breathlessly, his blue eyes almost bulging out from their sockets.
Hermes followed his line of vision and gasped in shock; Harry Potter was very much alive and throwing curses here and there, dodging hexes thrown by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He disappeared behind a colossal explosion and Hermes couldn't find him anymore.
He blinked several times and looked over at Ron. "Did Harry just – ?"
"Bloody hell yes!" Ron exclaimed with a wonderful laugh, his tears still streaming down his face but more due to relief and happiness.
Hermes laughed with him in relief, and then pushed him away as a yellow spell almost hit him on the chest.
They continued to hex their way through the battle, running and running and running, never stopping even as Neville drew the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat and beheaded Voldemort's last horcrux with a mighty swing. The final piece of his dark soul spewed from the snake and released a shrill scream. Voldemort witnessed the destruction and grew thunderous, almost hitting Neville with the Killing Curse if Harry hadn't cut in.
The battle around ceased altogether as they watched Voldemort and Harry Potter face against each other, the prophecy unfolding in front of their very eyes.
Their spells met at the middle with a loud bang, golden flames erupting at the centre where their spells met. And in just a blink of an eye, Harry Potter was able to overpower Voldemort. His Killing Curse rebounded and hit him on his chest. Voldemort toppled over and fell onto his back, lifeless eyes staring heavenward.
This time, Voldemort did not get up anymore.
A/N: Drop a review!
Wow, okay so I've finally finished Years 1-7, and everything hereafter will be noncanon of course. I only planned on writing up until their eighth year so we're drawing to an end. The good news is, I've written 30k+ words for their eighth year, which I know I cannot cram in one chapter, so I will split it into three or four more chapters. I'm still in the middle of editing some things, but suffice to say, this fic is already finished hahaha.
Before I end this A/N, I'm just really curious. Do you know other genderswap Dramione fics? I mean, fics where they were born a girl/boy and not because they had a potions/spell accident that changed their genders? I'm not sure if I've scoured enough but I've been really itching to read one. Tell me in your reviews if you have found some!
Again, drop a review!
Love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe