The Great Hall buzzed with chatter, but a hushed excitement hung in the air. It was a crisp morning, and students were filling their plates with breakfast. Iris settled into a spot beside her friends at the Hufflepuff table.
"Has the Daily Prophet come yet, Susan?" Iris asked, her voice filled with anticipation.
Susan shook her head. "No, not yet."
As if on cue, the rustling of wings echoed through the hall. Owls swooped in, dropping newspapers and parcels in front of eager students. Hannah quickly grasped a copy of the Daily Prophet and handed it to Iris. Iris's eyes darted to the headline on the front page:
Trial of Death Eater Severus Snape
By Barnabus Cuffe
The article began: "The Wizengamot chamber was abuzz yesterday as Severus Snape, the former Hogwarts potions professor, Slytherin Head of House, and renowned Potions Master, was led in. Gone were his signature billowing black robes and the greasy hair that was always slicked back. Instead, he was clad in a stark black-and-white prison uniform. His hair, unkempt, lent him a deranged appearance.
Before the proceedings could commence, both Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and DMLE Director Amelia Bones recused themselves due to conflicts of interest. Dumbledore's close relationship with Snape made his involvement problematic, while Madam Bones had a familial relationship with the victims: Iris Lily Potter, Harry James Potter, Lily Victoria Potter (nee Evans), and James Fleamont Potter.
The silence in the courtroom was palpable as Head Auror Gawain Robards listed the charges against Snape. The list was extensive and grave: Unauthorized use of Legilimency on a minor, being an accessory to two murders, two counts of attempted murder, betraying the Ministry of Magic by aiding Voldemort and obstructing justice regarding Sirius Black's imprisonment. While he pled guilty to the last charge, Snape denied the others.
A hushed whisper swept the room as a memory, procured from an anonymous seer, played out for the assembly. The scene from that fateful night of October 31, 1980, depicted Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, and Snape outside the Potter residence. What transpired next was a harrowing account of the attack on the Potters.
Under the influence of Veritaserum, Snape's confessions stunned the courtroom. His motives behind targeting Harry and later Iris were disturbing and revealed deep-seated obsessions. Snape's callous admissions about betraying the Order of the Phoenix and delivering the prophecy to Voldemort further painted a grim picture.
After a second memory, depicting a young Harry confiding in Dumbledore and his guardian was shown, the Wizengamot passed their judgment. Snape was found guilty on all counts, save one charge of attempted murder. His fate? A lifetime in the dementor-infested Azkaban, sharing a cell with the notorious Bellatrix Lestrange.
A sidebar in the paper exclaimed, "Sirius Black: The Tragic Tale of an Innocent Man Wrongfully Imprisoned for 11 Years."
Peter Pettigrew; The Manhunt begins
Hannah looked at Iris, concern evident in her eyes. "Iris, are you okay?"
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Iris replied, "I am. I'll just distract myself by cheering for my twin during the Quidditch match."
Professor Flitwick, with his characteristic small stature and sprightly movements, made his way through the Great Hall, his gaze fixed on the Hufflepuff table. As students continued to whisper amongst themselves and eat their breakfast, he paused before a young girl named Iris.
"Ms. Potter," he started, his voice serious yet tinged with concern, "I've been sent by Madam Pomfrey. She believes it's imperative to check if Professor Snape has administered any kind of magic or potion on you."
Iris looked up, her surprise evident. "Of course, Master Flitwick. Lead the way."
Together, they left the cacophony of the Great Hall, passing through stone corridors and up winding staircases, until they reached the door to the infirmary. The room was filled with the familiar scent of antiseptic potions and the muffled sounds of students recovering from various magical maladies. At the center, stood Madam Pomfrey, the school's matron, who was known for her stern demeanour but caring heart.
"Madam Pomfrey," Flitwick announced, "I've brought Ms. Potter, as you had asked."
The matron nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Filius. Iris, please, take a seat on that bed there," she said, pointing to an empty one next to the window.
Iris did as instructed, the sun casting a golden glow on her. Madam Pomfrey approached wand at the ready. "Iris, before I begin, I must ask for your permission to cast a series of diagnostic spells. It's to ensure no harm has come your way."
Iris nodded, her once brown hair shimmering into a shade of blonde. "Go ahead, Madam Pomfrey."
The matron murmured incantations, her wand moving rhythmically. Each spell she cast brought a different coloured light, revealing any lingering magical effects. After several minutes, Madam Pomfrey took a deep breath.
"My suspicions were right," she said gravely. "You've been given a loyalty potion and a compulsion potion. Furthermore, it seems someone attempted to modify your memory using the Obliviate spell. I'd prefer to monitor you here for a while. We need to reverse these effects and ensure there are no residual after-effects."
Iris took a moment to process this information. "Alright, Madam Pomfrey. I trust you," she responded, settling back against the bed, preparing herself for the healing process ahead.
Back at the Gryffindor table, Harry twirled his food on a fork, pushing it around the plate. Ron motioned for him to take a piece of toast and said, "Go on, mate. You're gonna need your strength today." Hermione nodded in agreement. "Harry, she'll be fine," She said softly.
Harry's face darkened and he looked up from his plate. "Mione, you weren't present at Snape's trial yesterday. You didn't hear what he confessed to - why Madam Pomfrey would want to see her,"
Hermione was about to speak when a long thin package was carried by six huge screech owls and placed on the table in front of Harry. The parcel sent his food flying to the floor below. Right after it arrived, another owl dropped a letter on top of it. After reading the letter, which said NOT TO OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE because it contained his new Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick, he realized that if everyone knew he had it, they'd all want one.
"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron said unwillingly. "I never even got to hold one." The friends hastened away from the hall, eager to unpack the broomstick in secrecy before their match, but when they reached the middle of the entrance hall they stumbled upon Crabbe and Goyle blocking their path up the stairs.
Malfoy snatched the package from Harry, feeling it for a moment before realizing what it was. "That's a broomstick!" he exclaimed, tossing it back to Harry with hatred and envy in his eyes. "You'll be in serious trouble for this one, Potter. First years are forbidden from having these."
Ron couldn't help himself. "It's not just any broomstick," he said with a smirk on his face, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What do you have at home Malfoy? A Comet Two Sixty? Those may look fancy but they don't compare to a Nimbus." Ron winked at Harry and grinned.
"You wouldn't understand, Weasley. You couldn't afford half the broomstick," Malfoy sneered. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up for years." Ron opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, Professor Flitwick appeared next to Malfoy.
"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" he asked in his small voice.
"No, sir," said Malfoy quickly. "Potter has been gifted with a new broomstick, professor."
"Yes, yes, I have heard all about it from Professor McGonagall," replied Flitwick as he turned to Harry. "What kind of broomstick is it?"
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry while trying not to laugh at the expression on Malfoy's face. "And I have him to thank for it," he added.
"It's true," Harry chuckled as they walked towards the Gryffindor dormitory. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall, I wouldn't be playing Quidditch."
The Gryffindor team marched together towards the looming Quidditch tower. They reached a double door, and Harry felt a tightness in his chest as he imagined what was waiting on the other side. Oliver placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, feeling the tension.
"Scared, Harry?" asked Oliver softly.
"A little," replied Harry.
"That's alright, I remember how I felt before my first game. You'll do great." Oliver said with a reassuring smile.
"What happened?" said Harry, his voice low and fearful.
"Er, I don't really remember," Oliver replied, massaging the back of his head. "I took a Bludger to the head two minutes in and woke up in the hospital a week later."
Harry's stomach dropped like a stone. He gulped and looked straight ahead as the doors opened to reveal an enormous pitch where thousands of spectators were cheering as Lee Jordan, the Quidditch commentator rang out from his tower. They jumped onto their brooms and zoomed out into the fray.
Iris emerged from the hospital wing, her red hair a stark contrast to her pale complexion. She made her way to the Quidditch field along with her friends from Hufflepuff, Hannah and her cousin Susan, and sat down just in time to watch Harry take to the field. She opened their connection and sent him a telepathic message of support. "Good luck Haza."
"Iri, are you okay? What did Madam Pomfrey say?" asked Harry in response, concern heavy in his voice.
"I was given a loyalty potion and compulsion potion, and someone tried to erase my memories," she replied, keeping the details brief. "But I'm okay now, Brother."
"Iris, you need to tell Master Comoran if you don't. I will tell Master Shan if you don't," Harry insisted.
"I will Haza," Iris assured him with a tired sigh. "Just focus on the field. You've never played quidditch before and this game is known to cause injuries. Even though you're a Gryffindor, I'll be cheering for you from the Hufflepuff benches along with Susan."
"Thank you Iri," said Harry, grateful for her unwavering support.
Lee's voice boomed across the sprawling Quidditch pitch, reverberating off the stands. "Hello! And welcome to Hogwarts' first Quidditch game of the season! Today's game, Slytherin vs. Gryffindor!" Spectators in green and scarlet robes cheered as the teams flew onto their brooms, eager for the match to begin.
The players floated in a circle, each one gliding through the air with coordination and ease. Harry was the highest of all, soaring higher than the rest with gentle power. As he looked down from his vantage point, the world below seemed so small.
The players' shiny black boots crunched in the frosty grass as they sprinted onto the field, broomsticks at the ready. Suddenly, the stands exploded with cheers as Madam Hooch, a severe-looking witch dressed in all emerald green, strode onto the pitch. "Positions, everyone!" she barked and gestured towards the sky. The game was about to begin.
Madam Hooch shot a piercing gaze across the Quidditch pitch, her voice reverberating as she commanded, "I expect clean play from all players. No dirty tactics." She gave the trunk an emphatic kick with her boot, and its contents spilled out onto the grass — two menacing black Bludgers that soared up into the sky.
Lee's voice boomed across the Quidditch pitch as he shouted, "The Bludgers are airborne! Quickly, look over there- the Golden Snitch is fluttering in pursuit. Remember, that Snitch is worth 150 points to whoever catches it, and they'll end this game."
The Golden Snitch flew at lightning speed up into the air, its wings beating so rapidly they were almost invisible. It made a wide arc around each Seeker's head, then shot out of sight just as Hooch stretched up and snatched the Quaffle from the ground.
Lee adjusted the headset and leaned forward in the announcer's chair. He reached his arm into the air, pointing towards the field as he shouted, "The Quaffle is released, and the game begins!" The crowd cheered in response.
Gryffindor, with the Quaffle tucked securely beneath her arm, Angelina Johnson zipped past the Slytherins at breakneck speed. With a flick of her wrist, she let go and watched as the blood-red ball soared through the air toward the goalposts.
A loud 'ding' echoed through the stadium as it pierced through the middle hoop, followed by Lee's booming voice announcing, "10 points to Gryffindor!" A 10 flashed up on the scoreboard above the crowd as a golden plaque with Gryffindor's name shone brightly in celebration.
Harry, floating on a broomstick high above the Quidditch pitch, pumped his fist in the air. "Yes!" he cried out just as a Bludger rocketed by him, close enough to ruffle his hair. He yelped in surprise and clutched his wand tightly.
The stands erupted in thunderous cheers as the Gryffindor team ran across the pitch, their house colours streaming behind them. Hagrid leapt up from his seat and pumped a fist into the air, bellowing for joy: "Well done!" He beamed with pride, tears gleaming in his eyes.
The green-capped Slytherin Chaser, trying to gain the lead, raced through the air with the Quaffle tucked under his arm. When he reached Bletchley, the blonde-haired Captain of Slytherin calmly pulled the ball back and effortlessly passed it to Marcus Flint in one swift motion. Lee called out above the roar of the stands.
Flint sprinted past people, leaping and dodging with expert agility. He launched himself into the air, throwing his arm back in a hurl for the hoops when Oliver appeared, and whacked the Quaffle away with his broom. A triumphant smirk crossed his lips as Flint's expression darkened with an angry glare. Johnson and Katie Bell were graceful and synchronous as they twirled their brooms around each other, passing the red ball between them to strategize their attack. Johnson seized the opportunity, launched a powerful throw, and watched in triumph as it flew through the gold rings, scoring points for Gryffindor.
"Yay!" said Ron and Seamus.
"Yes!" said Harry
Lee's face shone in the dim light of his office; a satisfied grin spread across his lips as he tapped his wand on the old chalkboard. The number 10 was highlighted in bright orange with a delightful "Ding!" as he added them to the tally beside the Gryffindor house.
The Slytherins leapt around the pitch, dodging and juking. Blades of grass flew in their wake as they chased the Quaffle to and fro. Nowhere was safe from their exuberant onslaught — not even Oliver Wood, who managed to save the goal by extending his long arms into a makeshift barrier.
Flint's face contorted with anger as he snatched a beater's bat from the closest player and swung it wildly in Oliver's direction. With a deafening crack, the Bludger flew through the air and collided with Oliver's stomach, sending him crashing to the ground unconscious.
The crowd erupted in boos as the Slytherin team members leapt from their seats and cheered, mocking Harry and the other Gryffindors. One of them jumped over George (or Fred) and made a successful shot, earning another 10 points for the Slytherins. As Lee added the points to their plaque, the smug grins on the Slytherin's faces were nearly unbearable for Harry.
Flint pointed with his free hand, and his teammates followed his lead. They flew low and in a wide crescent formation, encircling Johnson. She tried to duck out of the way but was too late; their momentum sent her crashing into one of the castle towers draped in billowing cloaks of emerald green. The impact caused an eruption of gasps from the stands; Slytherin had scored once again
Harry's eyes widened in excitement when he spotted the Golden Snitch fluttering between two trees. He steered his broom to follow, winding around obstacles and zigzagging past other players. Suddenly, his broom jolted forward and shuddered under him. "Whoa! Whoa!" Harry yelped as he fought to regain control.
Susan squinted and peered in the direction of Harry and Quirrell, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's going on with Harry's broomstick?" she asked. Iris quickly grabbed a pair of binoculars from the pocket of her robe, and after a few swift moves of adjustment, brought them to her eyes. Harry was hovering several feet above the ground, his broomstick shaking violently from side to side as if being pulled by an invisible force. She turned towards Quirrell, with both palms pressed against his wand as if trying to push it away with each word he uttered.
Iris narrowed her eyes and scanned the Quidditch pitch from the stands. "I knew he was suspicious," she muttered.
"Who?" Hannah asked, while Susan merely blinked in confusion.
"It's Professor Quirrell! He's jinxing the broom!" Iris exclaimed, pointing at a tall figure in black robes skulking near the goalpost.
"What do we do?" Hannah said, clearly scared.
"Leave it to me," Iris said confidently. She handed Susan her binoculars before heading down to the pitch, determined to stop Professor Quirrell at any cost.
Harry felt himself flung off his broom like a ragdoll, screaming as he fell to the ground. Suddenly, he was jolted to a stop and found himself dangling helplessly from one arm, swaying in the air.
"Come on Iris! Hurry!" shouted Susan.
Iris was running up the winding staircases of the tower structures, using her connection to the force to move faster than ever before. She flew underneath Quirrell and with a wave of her wand she touched his cloak.
Iris whispered "Incendio", and a spark flew from her wand, igniting the fabric of Quirrell's cloak. Hermione backed away in horror and a man shouted "Fire! You're on fire!" before stumbling back into Andromeda who then tumbled to the ground. Quirrell smothered the flames with his hands and acted as though nothing had happened. The broom stopped shaking and Harry climbed back onto its handle before taking off in pursuit of the Slytherin seeker chasing after the Snitch.
"This game is just like a game we play in the Jedi temple to teach us teamwork," said Iris.
Harry swooped forward and narrowly missed the Slytherin Seeker as they both raced for the Quidditch Pitch's center. With determination set in his eyes, Harry rammed into the Seeker again, sending him sprawling backwards as the golden Snitch darted away. The boys chased after it but were quickly losing altitude.
The Slytherin Seeker pulled up and out of the competition, leaving Harry to pursue alone. He leaned forward on his broom, trying to reach out and grab the elusive ball. Suddenly, he veered too far off course and fell from his broom with an astonished yelp. He rolled across the ground before gathering himself back up on one knee. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd watching from below. Hermione appeared atop a tower at that moment, catching sight of what had happened.
Hagrid yelled, "Looks like he's gonna be sick!"
Harry lurched forward and a tiny golden Snitch flew out of his mouth. He caught it in his hands.
Lee shouted, "He's got the Snitch! Harry Potter receives 150 points for catching the Snitch!"
Madam Hooch swooped across the pitch on her broomstick, blowing her whistle. "Gryffindor wins!"
The stands erupted with cheering from Gryffindor supporters and Hagrid pumped his fist in the air while Hermione shrieked with delight. Draco could only groan in disappointment.
Iris reconnected to Harry telepathically, saying, "Haza, you did great brother, now after you're done with quidditch grab your lightsabers and let us meet Master Flitwick." Harry triumphantly raised the Snitch into the air, and the crowd and team cheered louder than ever.
Harry and Iris stepped into the classroom of Professor Flitwick, who sat perched upon a high stool behind his desk. His owl-like eyes darted between them as he spoke.
"Today we will be using the Room of Requirement," he said with a hint of excitement in his voice. "This is one of Hogwarts' most magical places. It can take any form depending on what you need it for." He gestured grandly to the empty space around them. "For you two, it will become the perfect training ground for your Jedi skills."
He smiled warmly and continued, "I will be here in case either of you needs assistance or if there is an emergency."
Harry bowed his head to the Professor. "Thank you, Master Flitwick."
Iris stepped closer, her brows knit together in fascination. "Um, Master Flitwick, how do you know about the Jedi?" she asked. "To my knowledge, we are the first known force sensitives born on this planet, and considering this planet is relatively primitive and disconnected from the galaxy as a whole, it's odd to find someone who knows of the Jedi Order."
A smile spread across Professor Flitwick's face. "500 years ago, the Dwemer of Nirn migrated to this planet away from the greater galaxy as a whole," he began. "In this migration, we still brought our literature in regards to the Jedi, and your enemies – the Sith." Harry grinned.
"And let me guess," he interjected. "The locals on this planet decided to call your race goblins?"
"That is correct," confirmed Professor Flitwick.
Harry stood tall at one end of the room, his twin yellow and purple lightsabers ignited in each hand. Iris slowly stepped forward, her staff sparking with electricity as it lit up and hummed. "So how are we going to do this," she asked. "Force and magic allowed or just with our lightsabers first?"
"Lightsabers only," said Iris, her gaze unwavering.
"Then let's dance," Harry breathed, a smirk playing on his lips.
The room shifted and transformed, the walls receding to form an expansive arena surrounded by obstacles, platforms, and pillars. The lighting took on a subtle blue hue, and a gentle hum vibrated through the air. This was not Hogwarts' traditional training ground, but it was perfect for the unique needs of the two Jedi in training.
Iris and Harry circled each other, the weight of their anticipation palpable. Harry spun his lightsabers expertly, their glow casting contrasting shadows on the ground. Iris's staff emitted a steady hum, echoing the subtle thrum of power that both combatants were tapping into.
With a sudden burst of speed, Harry lunged, his yellow lightsaber aimed at Iris's midsection. She deftly sidestepped, pivoting on one foot and swinging her staff towards Harry's legs. Harry leapt, flipping in the air, and landed gracefully on one of the elevated platforms.
"Not bad," Iris taunted playfully, leaping after him. The two danced around each other, lightsabers and staff clashing, sparks flying with every hit.
Meanwhile, Professor Flitwick watched the display with interest, his eyes darting to anticipate each move, taking mental notes. There was a great deal of potential in these two.
Iris, using the Force, attempted to push Harry off the platform. He braced himself and with a wave of his hand, sent a gust of air towards her, throwing off her balance momentarily. As she stumbled, Harry took the opportunity to dive towards her, both lightsabers poised for a strike.
But Iris was quicker. With a swift motion, she redirected his momentum, sending him tumbling to the ground. Before he could recover, she was upon him, her staff's electric end inches from his face.
Harry chuckled, "Guess you win this round."
Iris helped him up, her eyes shining with amusement. "Better luck next time, brother."
Flitwick clapped his hands together. "Excellent work, both of you. You've honed your skills well. But remember, in the real world, it's not about winning or losing, but about balance, understanding, and using your abilities responsibly."
The two nodded, their heavy breathing indicating the exertion of the exercise.
"Now," said Flitwick with a twinkle in his eye, "how about we introduce some magic into the mix?"
Both Harry and Iris exchanged an eager glance, the challenge in Flitwick's voice evident.
"I've been waiting for this," Harry grinned, extinguishing his lightsabers and summoning his wand with a swift flick of his wrist.
Iris did the same, the familiar weight of her wand comforting in her hand. "Always one for theatrics, aren't you, Harry?"
Harry just winked in response.
Flitwick clapped his hands, and the arena morphed once more. Floating orbs of light appeared in the air, moving unpredictably, and a set of enchanted dummies formed at the far end. "Your task," Flitwick began, "is to disarm, disable, or evade both magical and lightsaber attacks. This will test your agility, reflexes, and the harmony between magic and the Force."
Without another word, Harry aimed his wand at one of the dummies, murmuring, "Expelliarmus!" The dummy's wand flew out of its hand, but it immediately retaliated with a jet of green light. Harry, using the Force, deflected it with ease.
Iris, meanwhile, engaged with an orb of light, sending bolts of electricity from her staff while also casting hexes from her wand. It became a mesmerizing dance of light, magic, and sheer willpower.
They worked in tandem, seamlessly transitioning between the Force and their spells. Harry would occasionally use a levitation charm to control his descent from a jump or combine a shield charm with his lightsaber defence. Iris blended her charms with the Force, guiding objects with both magic and mental focus.
At one point, Harry found himself surrounded by three orbs, each firing bolts of magic. Instead of panicking, he reached out with the Force, sensing their energy, and cast a protective bubble around himself. The spells bounced off harmlessly.
Iris, with a combination of a swift Aguamenti and a Force push, created a whirlwind of water that ensnared her opponents, leaving them drenched and disoriented.
After what felt like hours, Flitwick raised his hand, signalling the end of the exercise. The dummies and orbs disappeared, and the arena returned to its original form.
Both young Jedi were panting, sweat glistening on their foreheads, but there was a triumphant glow in their eyes.
"That," Flitwick declared, "was some of the finest dueling I've ever witnessed. The blend of magic and the Force is truly extraordinary."
Iris beamed, "Thank you, Professor. It's been quite the journey, merging the two worlds."
Harry nodded in agreement, "And we're only just beginning."
The tiny professor nodded, "Indeed. The future holds limitless possibilities for you both."
AN: we are close to the end of the first year, as you have seen so far things are pretty close to cannon it will begin to diverge further next Arc.
Read and review I try to reply to every review.
Also from today onwards I will be doing a double update on Friday with HTTM and PTATF, and on Monday with be Just HTTM