((Nympha)Dora Tonks - PoV)

I notice Coeus lean over to the poor girl and whisper something into her ear, causing her to greatly relax. Good job little brother.

I start to smile, but the blush that appears afterward, and the fact his hand never reappears on the table, forcing Phoebe to feed him instead? Well well well, someone is moving fast! And with the Girl-Who-Lived too!

I smirk instead. This is quite the opportunity for loads of teasing material, oh if only I had a camera.

I barely notice my hair shifting back to black as I focus on the cute scene in front of me.


(Coeus Black - PoV)

Eventually, ice cream and heavy discussions finished, we make our way from the ice cream parlor. Hagrid agreed to leave Iris in our care for the rest of her trip, after her assurances she was ok with the idea, so that he could deliver the mysterious stone to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore, who will be having quite a few questions to answer in the future if the rest of us have anything to say about it. He had promised the world that Iris was well taken care of and would be raised properly. Everything we have seen and heard so far suggests anything but. My first thought is a howler but that seems woefully insufficient. No, I will need to have a long talk with And- no. Grandfather. Yes, we need to bring him in for this.

Walking down the alley is rather awkward, with Iris grasping one hand, and Phoebe the other. She grabbed it after we finished eating, and has not let go. It is comfortable, I enjoy it, and it seems to be greatly reassuring Iris, so I am not complaining exactly but it can be rather awkward, three people tied together like this in a busy street. The uneven cobblestones and occasional spacial warping do not help matters.

I also don't like the looks Dora keeps giving us. She is plotting something. Phoebe doesn't seem worried, but she can be wrong. I will have to keep my eyes open.

Our next stop is Madame Malkin's for new clothes. Iris has already been, but we haven't, and she doesn't mind accompanying us.

We enter the shop. "Two for Hogwarts, the twins," Andy tells the woman.

Ugh, for the owner of a clothing store, I really do not understand her fashion sense. All mauve, what is wrong with her? It isn't even a good color to begin with.

The girls and I reluctantly drop hands, to the older folks tittering amusement. Yeah yeah, laugh it up, whatever. We enjoyed it. Phoebe is led to the left while I go to the right, only to find Draco on a stool already.

"Coeus," he greets me with a slight nod. We have been interacting a decent bit since mother came clean about our parentage, and Andy started running the old circles again.

"Ah, Draco, great..." I don't manage to keep the resignation out of my voice.

He narrows his eyes at me.

"And what is with that sort of greeting?" he demands, offended.

"Nothing, nothing," I sigh, climbing onto the stool. "I just know how you can be about clothes, and I am already in a bit of a mood. Adults being adults and Malkin's complete lack of fashion sense is a bit of it."

The assistant giggles as she brings over the robes.

Draco nods in agreement. "Some mauve can be acceptable, especially for girls, but that much? And in a store already covered in it? I mean, I get the idea of a favorite color, but the woman has a problem," he says.

We nod in agreement before he continues.

"Now, what do you mean about me on the other hand? I will have you know I have fantastic taste!" he whines nasally.

I roll my eyes. "You do actually," I admit, "but you tend to whine on and on about things, and get offended really easily, like right now. I am not trying to pick at you, but I know I am moody, and I am going to accidentally make you upset, then you will complain, and I will snipe back, and we will end up arguing. Can we just find a new subject?" I ask.

He huffs, considering. "Fine. Mother and father went to look at books while I am getting fitted, how about you?"

Good, Draco can usually be reasonable, as long as you explain things and sympathize or praise him a bit.

"Andy and Ted," he sniffs at the mention of Ted, as usual, "are waiting up front. We went to get our wands first." I start to pull it out to show him before remembering that I am being fitted, and that would ruin the measurements. "Hornbeam and dragon heartstring, twelve inches. Get this, the dragon it came from was apparently a 'rather brutal Hebridean Black," I tell him.

He laughs. "How appropriate, string from the heart of a black dragon for a Black's wand."

"Phoebe and I thought so too, though she has silver lime wood instead of hornbeam, given her better Sight."

He nods understandingly.

"You should have seen the shop though. Well, actually you might still if you have yet to go. It was a disaster, near completely destroyed inside."

"What?" he asks, aghast at the thought. Even the most unrepentant criminals of Britain keep respectful of Ollivanders.

"Iris Potter was there before us," I tell him, causing his eyes to widen even further, if possible. "and her matching was...very unusual. A lot of the wands were reacting very poorly, it was crazy. Old Ollivander seemed to have a blast, watching her destroy half of his shop as she went through dozens of wands."

Draco is speechless, trying to picture it.

"In the end, a lot of it was him being weird. He actually knew the right wand for her, but was delaying for some reason. Once I called him out she matched immediately."

A very personal reason for Iris, one that I won't spread like common gossip.

"I...I see."

You really don't.

"So, the Girl-Who-Lived huh? What is she like?" he asks.

"Absolutely nothing like you would imagine. Almost everything we have ever been told about her is a bloody lie, including everything Dumbeldore has said," I spit out.

Draco is shocked at the venom in my voice, and the harsh criticism of Dumbledore, who Andromeda is normally a supporter of.

"What? What do you mean?"

"She...She didn't know magic was real until today Draco."

...

"WHAT!?" he shouts, dropping his arms and turning on the stool, undoubtedly ruining a great deal of work. The assistants don't seem bothered, considering their own state of shock, as they forget to pretend not to be listening in.

"Yeah. She was raised in ignorance, by the absolute worst sort of muggles. I...she won't talk about it, but from what we have gathered so far, her family, the people she is living with right now... I don't like it. I really don't like it."

I look at him.

"Talk to your dad, tell him to get into contact with grandfather. I think Dumbledore has done something seriously wrong here and needs calling out. If Andy doesn't talk to grandad then I will, make sure everyone knows what is going on."

He nods seriously.

I pretend not to notice the assistants continuing to listen closely. Rumors will be all over before nightfall.

Yes, this should work out well. Draco can be a self-centered ass, but he is not a terrible person at heart, especially when it comes to something like this. An important magical icon being denied their heritage and forced to live with muggles? Oh yes, I can see him fuming, much to his...dresser(?)'s displeasure, as they attempt to finish their work.

I may have played my hand a bit early, however, as the fitting still takes some time, leaving me bored in silence. Attempting to start small talk with Draco is a mistake as I am regaled with information about his latest prized possession, an overly elaborate magical trunk.

Don't get me wrong, such things are a great idea if you can afford them, I adore my trunks, but as with everything Malfoy, they go way over the top with their extravagance. Pearls and lots of solid silver, for a school trunk that will likely wear out in a few years? And some people wonder why their fortune never topped that of the Blacks.

I decline being fitted for dress robes, allowing me to escape earlier than Draco. Freedom!

It means being assaulted by a room full of lavender again, but at least there is an Iris to hug. I could use the stress relief, and Phoebe is still getting measured.

I ignore her blush and the coos from observers.

"Wha...what?" she asks.

"I don't normally mind Draco, but being trapped in a room with him while he rambles on about stuff I am completely uninterested in...ugh. An awful experience," I explain, ignoring the fact she has no idea who Draco is. Ted, Andy, and Dora nod in understanding.

Well, I am not uninterested in enchanted trunks. Making them is quite interesting in fact. Draco's ramblings, however...

I grab Iris's hand again and turn to Madame Malkin. "No offense ma'am, but I hate coming to your shop."

She just laughs. "It is fine dearie, most children feel that way. You young ones always want to get out and play, and so rarely appreciate the little things."

It is tempting to explain that no, I can appreciate clothes. It is mostly due to her complete lack of taste, but I like to think I have a decent bit of tact after all the lessons we have had.

I stand quietly with Iris while we wait for Phoebe. Hmm, I suppose I could have told Draco that Iris was waiting right outside as well. But I don't think I want to inflict Draco on her yet. And this is rather nice, even if our surroundings leave much to be desired. Speaking of...

"So what's your favorite color?" I ask her.

"Huh?"

I repeat the question.

"Oh. Uh, I don't know?"

"Wait really? How do you not know? Well like, when you go to pick out a shirt, what color do you pick the most?"

She shrugs. "I don't know, I never picked out a shirt before I came here. Uh, the green one the girl here suggested was nice?"

...

"What about, I don't know...anything else? Candy? Toys? Blankets? Any kind of clothes?"

"I uh, didn't really..."

She goes quiet and looks down as she realizes how everyone's attention is focused on her.

...

These Dursleys really are complete scum, aren't they? I wonder if Dumbledore fireproofed their house?

I give her another hug.

Phoebe exits her fitting room shortly after, joining us without saying anything.