Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
...
Iris Potter was, for a long time, at a loss as to what had happened.
When the Triwizard Tournament had been announced she had been hoping to watch some good competition between three of the top schools in Europe. Beauxbatons and Drumstrang had both brought their elite students to give themselves the best chance of accomplishing the glory that came with victory in such a prestigious tournament. Of course, given her run of luck she had expected something to go awry.
Hence, whilst celebrating at the Gryffindor table to the announcement that Cedric Diggory had been chosen to represent Hogwarts she had feared that something was about to happen. It wasn't to say that something was going to happen but it was Halloween after all. Given her history with the date and how it had affected her prior three years at Hogwarts she had every right to be nervous.
Thus, when after the champions of the three schools had been selected and the Goblet of Fire had lit up for a fourth time, she had been terrified. As Headmaster Dumbledore plucked the fourth piece of paper out of the air, Iris had waited for her name to be called out. She had never inserted her name into the Goblet herself but she knew that didn't mean that it wasn't her name in the Headmaster's hand.
She had watched Albus open up the small bit of paper and had braced for her name to be called out. To watch him then proclaim that it was nothing more than a practical joke before resuming as if nothing had happened set her on edge. However there was nothing that she could say, nor was there anything that anybody in the room could do, that would get Dumbledore to announce what it was that he had just grabbed hold of. "What do you think that is?" asked Hermione Granger, Iris' best friend. The bushy haired girl had been by her side ever since this date three years prior when Iris had saved her from a troll.
"I honestly don't know, but I don't think it was a prank," stated Iris. She had no idea how true her statement was.
...
"What happened there Dumbly-dorr?" asked Madam Maxine, the Headmaster of Beauxbatons probing her fellow Headmaster for answers. She, along with Igor Karkaroff, had joined Albus Dumbledore in his office having spoken with their respective champions. The conversation which had just been shared had been stale and lacking information due to the fact that Albus had clearly not been willing to share with so many people.
"It was a prank, nothing more," said Dumbledore defensively.
"You would not have reacted in such a way to a prank," accused Igor. "Whatever was written on that parchment struck you to your core. Tell us so that we can quell any rumors before they begin. Children will talk and construct all sort of fantasies."
Raising his hand to scratch at his cheek, Albus couldn't deny what Igor had mentioned. "You are quite right," he said before reaching into the pocket and bringing out the parchment in question. Instead of mentioning the name he had read, he opened it up and showed his colleagues.
"Harry Potter?" read Madam Maxine.
Albus nodded. "We all know the story of Iris Potter and how she, as a small child, survived the killing curse and struck down Voldemort," he said calmly, watching as his peers reacted to the name which he had spoken. "What many do not know is that Iris is a twin, the sister to Harry Potter."
"Then where is he, surely he is amongst your students here," proclaimed Igor.
"Sadly when Iris was retrieved from her home, there was no sign of Harry," admitted Dumbledore. "Speaking with those at the time, none of them said that they had taken the boy from his home and I feared the worst. I had hoped that, if he were still alive, he would have found his way back to us."
"If so few knew he existed in the first place, then how is it his name ended up in the Goblet?" questioned Igor. "Why would they go through such effort to put the name of a dead child into the tournament? If this is a joke then it is not funny!"
"Indeed it is not," agreed Madam Maxine. "However Dumbly-dorr, you stated that the boy was never found. That is not to say that he did not survive another way."
"I searched the grounds myself after having delivered Iris to a safe location and I was joined by many whom I trust. We scoured the grounds and laid Lily and James to rest but, as I said, found no sign of young Harry."
"As impossible as it might seem, if he is still out there then he is magically contracted to compete in the Tournament," stated Igor. "If by some chance he is out there and does not compete he will be stripped of his magic. This is all hypothetical but we cannot condone a boy to be stripped of his power without even knowing why. Such a fate should never befall a boy."
"I agree but how should we even go about finding him?" queried Madam Maxine.
"We could get the Daily Prophet to write about how such a tasteless prank has occurred on a long since deceased member of wizarding society," stated Dumbledore. "It would reveal to the world that there was another child in that house that night but that in itself is insignificant. The fact that the story would be told across the globe would have the best chance of getting Harry to read it, if indeed he is still out there."
"Then you best get to it Dumbledore," declared Igor. "The sooner the paper gets it the better."
"I must say that you are most devoted to this idea that he is out there Igor," said Dumbledore as he looked at the Headmaster of Drumstrang.
"If he is dead, then this is in poor taste and the culprit will be apprehended and punished for their crime," declared Igor as he stormed towards the exit. "If he is indeed alive and out there, then we need pray that we won't watch the child die in the tournament."
Madam Maxine and Dumbledore both watched as the Headmaster of Drumstrang left the Headmaster's Office and left the two of them alone. The silence was broken by the soft trill of Fawkes, Albus' phoenix who was perched in the corner of the room. "We may very well have just condoned a child to death but if we do nothing we could very well strip a boy of his magic without him knowing any better. If anything, the best thing to hope for is that he is indeed already with his parents in the afterlife. Good night Dumbly-dorr," stated Madam Maxine as she too made her way towards the exit. "I will not tell my students anything of what has transpired this evening, I trust they will read about it tomorrow."
Albus laced his fingers together as he found himself alone in his office. Now that he was alone he could truly be with his thoughts as he contemplated not just the tournament about to begin but the years that had led up to this moment. Or, more importantly, the way in which he had been preparing Iris Potter to confront Voldemort.
She was the Girl Who Lived and she idolized him. Ever since she had stepped foot in Hogwarts he had been planning her life to come, orchestrating certain events in order to lead her into the path of light. She truly was something special, even having dealt a blow to Tom Riddle when she had destroyed his diary and killed the basilisk that had been residing in the Chamber of Secrets. That heroic nature to always put others before herself was worthy of his cause.
If Harry was alive however, that could definitely turn things on it's head. The chances that he was out there were slim at best but they were still chances. Hypothetically, how had he grown up? How had he been raised? What path did he align himself to? If indeed Harry was still alive then Albus knew that it was his responsibility to ensure that Harry's actions were for the Greater Good.
...
Iris Potter found herself mentally drained as she reread the paper for the fourth time that morning. She had a brother. Or, it seemed, she had had a brother. A brother whom she never knew and would never know.
"If you're looking for a sibling you're welcome to one of mine," said Ginny, trying to lighten the mood. Iris sent the red haired girl a small smile in recognition before turning back to the paper in her hands. The youngest member of the Weasley family doted on her ever since she had saved her life at the end of her second year. It was almost to a degree of unhealthiness but Iris assumed that Ginny would one day grow out of it.
"Iris, I'm sure if you want to take a break from classes today that Professor McGonagall will allow you to," assured Hermione. "I can't imagine what you're going through right now but if you need time to think then I'll happily take notes for you while you take some time off."
"Thanks Hermione," said Iris as she put down the paper, her hands coming up to rub at her eyes. "I think I'd rather go to class though and get my mind off things. I mean, it's not like it really changes anything..."
The way in which Iris left the sentence hanging had both Hermione and Ginny a little on edge. Thankfully, they knew when to shift the topic of conversation to something completely different. "So, what did you think of the uniforms of the Beauxbaton students? Can you imagine wearing those all day?" asked Ginny.
"Remember, to them our robes must seem outdated and dull. Quite frankly I don't see anything wrong with wearing such a bright color every day," retorted Hermione.
"We have our Gryffindor colors on our robes," countered Ginny.
"Small threads of red and gold do not make up for wearing all black," declared Hermione.
Iris meanwhile did her best to acknowledge the conversation going on but she couldn't help her eyes from drifting back to the article in front of her. She couldn't help but imagine what her brother would be like if he were alive.
...
Days had turned into weeks and Albus had to concede that Harry truly was deceased. He had had little hope that the boy was alive but given how wide spread the news article had reached there had been no word in response. There had been a few instances where people had come forward proclaiming to be Harry but they had all been proven false. He never quite knew how people thought they would get away with such a thing in the first place.
It seemed a shame really. If Harry truly was alive then Albus was sure that he would make an excellent pawn on the board. Every piece held some value for the Greater Good after all.
Speaking of pieces on the board, Albus turned his attention to Iris Potter. It seemed that this year she had been given a reprieve. He couldn't help but have felt a little anxious when the fourth bit of parchment had come out of the Goblet of Fire weeks prior having fully expected Iris to be competing in the tournament. He could only imagine the sheer amount of strings he would have to pull in order to ensure that she survived the contest.
Perhaps this was for the best and this year Hogwarts could simply work on ensuring some strong connections with the foreign students. There was never anything wrong with having too many connections.
It was then that the most peculiar sound infiltrated the Hall.
...
Iris had spotted the glance that Headmaster Dumbledore had sent her way, having seen it every so often as of late. She assumed that the Headmaster wished to speak with her in regards to her late brother but was unable to muster up just what to say. It was the same reason why she herself hadn't approached him. What would she ask and what would it accomplish? Many years from now she imagined that there would be some manner of closure to it all but after having learnt so much about her family in such short time was enough for the moment. One day she would muster up the courage and ask him about it.
Now was not that time.
"Hey Iris, how are you going with your Transfiguration parchment?" asked Lavender Brown from across the dinner table.
"I'm about halfway through," admitted Iris. "I'm hoping to get it done tonight so I can enjoy the weekend."
"Would you mind giving me a hand with a few things?" asked Lavender, pleading with her eyes to get some assistance.
Iris couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips before she attempted to give her response, only to pause as she heard an unfamiliar sound. Or more so it was unfamiliar for Hogwarts. It sounded suspiciously Muggle.
As the volume increased in decibels, the murmur amongst the students crawled to a halt as they all turned their attention towards the entrance to the Great Hall. Seconds ticked by before the cause of all the racket made itself known as somebody riding a motorcycle whipped down the center of the room.
The screeching of tyres rang out as the rider skid to a stop, a black stain spreading across the floor from where his back tyre had swiftly slowed him to a stop. Iris couldn't help but admit that the scene before her was one heck of an entrance.
She watched as they switched the engine off before getting off the motorcycle. An important thing she quickly noticed was that the person hadn't put a kickstand or anything down to ensure that it didn't fall over. It remained on it's two wheels without so much as a wobble. The bike was definitely enchanted.
Her gaze, along with everybody else in the hall, watched the newcomer as Headmaster Dumbledore stood up from his chair. The person stepped forward without hesitation before they took off their helmet to reveal a mop of shaggy brown hair, the only part of them that Iris could see from this angle. "So," they said casually, their voice still projecting around the entire room. "Anybody want to tell me why my name came out of a cup?"
Iris froze in place and she felt her heart in her throat at what she had just heard. Around her, she could feel the support from her friends being sent her way but was unable to acknowledge it as a single word came to her lips.
"Brother?"
While it was little more than a whisper, given the silence that had surrounded the hall it may as well have been shouted out loudly. Thankfully for her sanity, it seemed as if the person before her didn't hear it or simply chose to ignore it.
"My, my, this is a surprise," said Dumbledore, garnering attention to himself as he opened up his arms welcomingly. "Mister Potter, I presume."
The sheer quantity of whispers that flooded the halls was deafening as Harry stood there, unblinking as he stared at the man in front of him. "Yeah, what of it?" responded Harry unkindly as he glared at the Headmaster.
"I must say that it warms my heart to see you alive and..."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," scoffed Harry as he cut Dumbledore off, earning a few short gasps of breath from those around him. Nobody talked to Dumbledore in such a manner. "Like I was asking, can someone explain how my name came out of this cup of fire thing?"
Dumbledore couldn't help but pause at the reaction he had been given. Nevertheless, he had faced countless adversaries on the Wizengamot floor and this was no different. He may have been caught off guard but he was a skilled conversationalist and could easily swing the tides with a few kind words. "The artifact you are referring to is the Goblet of Fire," said Dumbledore, precisely annunciating the ancient relic to indicate just how important it was. "When your name came out of it it magically bound you to compete in the Triwizard Tournament."
"How do I get out of it?" asked Harry.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The tournament, how do I get out of it?" repeated Harry. "Can I quit or simply choose not to participate?"
"I'm afraid either of those options would have you stripped of your magic..."
"Alright, then when's the first task," said Harry, cutting off Dumbledore.
"My boy, surely you..."
"I ain't your boy."
The sheer silence which rang out from that statement was broken only by a fork dropping from a single student's grip, clattering loudly against their plate. "Now, could somebody tell me what day I've got to compete?"
"The first task is on the twenty fourth of November," said Madam Maxine, taking over due to the fact that at that moment in time, Albus Dumbledore had seemed to have forgotten how to form words.
"Alright then," said Harry as he turned on his feet and headed towards his motorcycle.
"If you'll wait just a moment Mister Potter..." started Dumbledore but was unable to continue as Harry placed the motorcycle helmet on his head before getting back on his vehicle. The roar of the engine forced a number of students to cover their ears before Harry took off, the wheels screeching as he exited the Great Hall leaving everybody flabbergasted.
It took all of ten seconds before every student in attendance started talking to one another, the ruckus forcing many people to have to shout to the people next to them just to be heard. Iris Potter meanwhile remained silent, unable to comprehend what she had just witnessed.
That was her brother?
That was Harry Potter?
...
Hope you enjoyed.