So doc manager crashed for quite literally no reason, lost a bit of work, had to rewrite it, does not make for a happy author.
Anyway, Iris has made it clear she's magical but she has endeared herself to the ever practical Northerners the best way she could, I.E. sanitation and hot water.
So, have fun, hope you enjoy, and next chapter should be longer in so long as the blasted thing doesn't crash again.
Iris sat crossed legged leaning against the heart tree of Winterfell's Godswood, staring up at the splayed hand shaped blood red leaves with a wistful smile playing across her lips. Looking down she ran a thin finger along the bone white trunk as her creeping hand led its digits down to the base of the roots that burrowed deep into the rich loamy soil. Closing her eyes she lulled her head to the side to observe the unfathomably deep black pool of water that was bare meters away, its chilly depths cooling the already frost touched air around it.
She liked it here, quite a bit.
Honestly it reminded her of the Forbidden Forest when autumn began to set in, it had been such a beautiful forest once she had burnt out all the Acromantulas and flambe'd their nests.
Ron asked for very strange birthday gifts, but who was she to argue with a friend who looked that pleased when he received the news? Boys were strange, really.
Having a sudden funny feeling Iris ejected her wand from its wrist holster and brought it to eye level staring at its knobbly length a moment before pushing it to the tree; wouldn't you know, it was the exact same shade as the weirwood.
When Dumbledore had explained the Prophecy to her at the end of her fifth year, not even an hour after Sirius had fallen through the Veil of Death mind, Iris had lost it. She'd thrown fireballs, lightning bolts, energy blasts, you name it and she had used it on her surroundings to wreck havoc on the old fools sanctum.
One attack, quite by accident mind you, had hit Dumbledore directly thus disarming him, and for reasons unknown to her his damn wand wouldn't leave her presence afterwards.
So, after trying to return it, burn it, banish it, bury it, and even once asking Kreacher to drop it in the middle of the ocean, she'd just given up getting rid of it as it always returned to her bedside in the morning.
Same with that damn gaudy ring she'd lifted from his desk, it was ugly and looked worthless and she'd only taken it because you didn't break into the Headmasters office the first night back for your sixth year and not loot something after all...
Where was she?
Right.
She idly wondered if the wand was made out of Weirwood, it looked the part really, and it would make sense because...oh...she hadn't noticed that symbol on the butt cap before...oh dear. It was the same as the one in the lining of her cloak and...oh good God please tell her she had not been this bloody oblivious...
Fearing what she was about to find Iris fished the ring out of her expanded bag and took a hard look at its heavily pitted surface, finally seeing an identical symbol in the center of its black stone.
A circle, with a triangle in it cut through with a line...a Deathly Hallow...
"Oh wowzers Luna is going to be so annoyed I became the Mistress of Death and didn't give her an interview..." It made...a truly terrifying amount of sense really, if she had actually accidentally combined the Deathly Hallows, via inheritance, assault, and theft, with Lord Stark's story... Well...maybe they wanted to come home?
"Bloody hell..." she muttered as she shoved the items back into their respective slots, these were heavy thoughts for another time, preferably when she was deep in her cups.
A moment later a quiet voice spoke up to helpfully distract her, "You shouldn't swear, you know, what mother says anyway."
Cocking a brow Iris shifted her gaze to a slip of a girl wearing a pretty grey dress with white trim, she was slightly long in face with piercing grey eyes and untamable brown hair.
"Hello Arya, and for your information mothers only ever find out what we want them to, and as neither of us wish to spend any more time then necessary with your boring as all get out septa, we shall both be keeping our tongues, yeah?" Arya made a face at that nodding quickly as she slid down the tree landing next to the redhead. Iris rather liked the girl, she was a free spirit that didn't wish to bend to the rules and conventions of this world and simply wanted to live for herself.
Probably why she was here at the moment, but Iris would let her sweat it out a bit, Sirius would approve since children needed to learn patience after all. That, and it was funny seeing them squirm a bit.
"Father says the King and his entourage shall be here within the week, are you excited?" Iris idly lit a ball of violet flames in her open palm and forced it to become the shape of Prongs, willing it to begin prancing about her fingers she turned to the delighted Arya smiling lightly.
"Not in the slightest, authority and me go together as well as puppies and house fires, that and I can't have fun like this with them around." In reality she didn't expect to keep her powers secret from King Robert in the long term, not that she'd bothered to hide them at this point regardless.
Really seeing as how there wasn't a group of creepy old men from Geneva just waiting to obliviate you for violating the Statuette of Secrecy to keep magic choked and constrained here and...grrr...she wasn't bitter...nope.
In her month with the Starks of Winterfell she'd outed herself as a mage fairly early on, because frankly the place, and its people, stank. Seriously, none of the heroic tales and movies quite conveyed the lack of sanitation in these civilizations and the ever present smell of body odor and shite was just too much for her.
So, first order of business was to charm all chamber pots with vanishing enchants, which immediately made her popular with the servants. Then she had carved runes into all the bathtubs...the far, far too few bathtubs... so one may simply press down on a rune to fill, empty, and heat the water.
This made her incredibly popular with most of the women in the castle, particularly Lady Stark who apparently wasn't all that fond of the crisp cold of the North.
Strange woman that Lady Stark...
Then off course she'd seen the ramshackle state of several of the abandoned towers and with a bit of a boost from the Philosophers Stone's permanent transfiguration ability she'd repaired most of the ancient castle.
In short, she was the Rock Star of the Stark Household. Even the Maester seemed to be intrigued with her abilities because, as he put it, "There is no smoke, there is no diversion, you simply change the world around you as you see fit. I...hold no desire to earn your ire in so long as you do not hurt my Lord and his family."
She respected that, and...oh...darn...both Arya and her newly arrived dire wolf were giving her puppy eyes...so not fair. Only she was allowed to use that and...oh blast it all.
"Is there something on your mind Arya?" The girl nodded once and sprung to her feet throwing on a cheerful grin in the process, Nymeria barking happily as she hopped around her in the process.
"Yes! Please, show me more!" Rolling her eyes Iris clamped her fingers into a fist snuffing out the now stationary stag as she pushed herself to her feet. Cracking her head to the side she slowly drew her silver sword and twirled the ancient blade's handle between her fingers expertly before taking a proper stance. Arya pulled out the thin fencing style blade she had nicked from the armory and mirrored her instructor.
"Ok, before I showed you the basics so you didn't hurt yourself, now I'm going to show you some of the styles Sensei-Urahara taught me at your age and we'll move on from there. Trust me...you are not ready for any of his more advanced techniques at the moment, man could truly have been quite mad... Now, follow my lead..."
Jon entered the Godswood in search of his little sister in hopes of finding her before her Lady mother, what met his gaze though was a sight that stole his breath away. Arya was leaning against the heart tree with Nymeria in her lap, scratching the sleeping wolf behind the ears as she grinned up at Lady Peverell who was twirling her magnificent silver blade about herself.
"Now this is a hard parry, if you get enough momentum it gives you a few moments to give the bastard a nice swift kick to the crotch or a fist to the face. Oh! Rule to live by? Don't a punch a man in the jaw with a closed fist, more likely to break your fingers then anything, noses those? Free game Little Wolf."
Arya giggled at that, she turned her gaze towards the gate and saw Jon which immediately caused the girl to perk up, "Jon! Have you come to train with us?"
Spinning on her tip toe Lady Peverell turned to meet his eyes and he felt his throat constrict as those brilliant emerald orbs showed nothing but honest affection as she offered the Bastard of Winterfell a curtsy.
"Jon, so good to see you, as Arya has asked, are you here to join us?" Jon coughed in his hand and hoped to the Old Gods that he wasn't blushing as brightly as he thought he was as he quickly shook his head in the negative.
"No my Lady, Lady Stark was looking for little Arya here, it would appear she has skipped her afternoon lessons and is in a bit of trouble with the septa."
Much to his surprise it was Lady Peverell who snorted in dismay, "Oh that stuck up woman and her desire to turn her girls into chattel, ugh. Arya love?" The small girl perked up at noble's words giving her all the attention she could, "Go dance to whatever tune your boring mother wishes you to and we'll have more fun once you are done, yeah?" Arya sighed and nodded as she gently pushed Nymeria from her lap waking the now irritated wolf.
"Come on girl...lets go see what foolishness we must endure today..." With that she approached Jon, gave him a hug, then took off like a shot followed by her still groggy pet. Jon turned to Lady Peverell as she scooped her wide brimmed hat off the ground and placed it on her head, the ever present glittering sword now resting in its sheath on her belt.
"Well Lord Snow, it would appear you have scarred off my companion for the evening, how ever shall you rectify this injustice?" Jon stammered for a second not knowing what to say before the woman in red broke out into musical laughter. "Oh relax Jon, and if you call me Lady Peverell instead of Iris one more time I'll turn you into a newt just like I had Theon."
That had been funny. Jon was not even going to pretend it had not been. Theon spent the better part of a day as a small, slimy lizard for grabbing Lady Iris's bum, she'd later informed both he and Robb that Theon had been lucky.
Normally, she simply broke a man's arm for such impertinence, but felt Lord Stark would not appreciate her maiming his ward.
"I...could escort you to the kitchens for an early dinner, L-...Iris..." Her returning grin was the brightest, most inviting thing Jon had ever seen, he felt that way every time she gifted him with it.
"Sounds like fun! Maybe we can get Robb and Lord Stark in on a game of Cyvasse afterwords? Oh, or we could go hunting out in the Wolfswood, that could be fun too!"
Jon smiled once again as she accepted his offered arm and guided her out of the Godswood thinking this must be what his brother Robb felt like. Not treated like a bastard, not like a burden, not like an embarrassment, but as an equal.
Because Iris...Iris accepted who he was...and simply didn't care. She treated him like she did anyone else, well...aside from Theon, which as Jon had previously thought was rather funny. Titles, birthright, position in society, they didn't matter to the noble in exile, she liked him for who he was, and didn't care who it offended.
A few moments later Iris stopped chattering and gave Jon a strange look, "Something wrong Jon?"
He frowned a bit and before he could curb his tongue he mumbled, "I was just thinking this must be what it feels like to have a friend is all..."
She stared at him a few moments longer then necessary, and for the briefest of moments he swore her emerald eyes flashed to burning violet before she threw him a cheerful smile.
"Don't be stupid dumbarse, this is what it feels like to have friends because you're my friend! Now come on, lets see if we can get all the lemon cakes before they go to Sansa, she's looking a bit heavy anyway!"
Jon didn't bother hiding his smile after that, he had a friend who wasn't a family member after all, and she wanted to cause some mischief. It could be fun, and more then likely, with Iris involved, most would laugh, rather then get angry.
Unless she caught something on fire of course, which really, being friends with Lady Peverell, was always a potential hazard.
I'm aware newts aren't lizards, Jon however is not. Also, I'm fairly certain Iris has ADHD. Regardless, review my lovelies review.