What the fuck had just happened?
Iris was still breathing erratically, panic clinging to her chest. Had that... had that been real? Had it been an illusion? Had it really been V̷̰̘́̔ō̷̦͉͋ļ̷̏d̸͔̗̍͠e̴͖̼̓̓m̷̆̚͜ò̸̦̈́r̶͚̐͊t̷̤̂̇?
Even though the figure had never introduced itself, it hadn't needed to. The Name had reacted all on its own, worse than it ever had before. And while it had vanished the moment she had left that strange dimensional space that the time-reverser had brought her to, it had still felt... too real not to have been real.
And the matter of the fact was that the time-reverser was gone. Right out of her hand. She had let go of it—completely against her will—entirely unable to do anything about it.
What was the point? Had he known all along what she was up to? That she was here? Why would he show up now, only to rip that one chance from her fingers, and disappear again? Did he do it just to spite her?
What the hell could she even do against someone like that? Apparently he could just show up in the middle of fucking time travel—inside a fourth dimension or whatever—rip her one chance of saving Harry from her grasp, and then just leave without even so much as casting a single spell at her?
Maybe she had just imagined it after all? Was it an effect of this illusionary space? Maybe in combination with his Name? She had been trying to think of what the worst thing that could happen was, but... But then where had the time reverser gone? If it hadn't been real then... But then why was she back where she had started? If it had actually been him, why wouldn't Voldemort just leave her stranded... wherever? Whenever? Or... was she even back in the present? How could she tell?
After religiously repeating her own name over and over under the green light of the other moon, she had finally managed to silence his Name once more. Only then did she dare and get up from where she had been sitting in the white void.
The moment she had returned, the mumbling had ceased entirely. And this was another thing that creeped her out to no end. She wasn't sure if she had imagined it, but the more she thought back, the more she felt like the voice hadn't just sounded familiar, it had sounded like her own voice. Although hearing your own voice from somewhere else always felt somewhat odd.
Had it been an effect of the time-reverser? Either herself, or her other selves, on the way back to the past? Was that why she had heard it before using it, but not after?
Had she been trying to warn herself? But from what? Voldemort? He had shown up anyway, but hadn't even done anything to her, well, other than take Harry from her once more.
Once she had finally managed to gather herself, Iris had decided to make a break for it before this space would actually collapse in on her or someone discovered her here. Her heavy backpack on her shoulders once more, Iris ascended the stairs past the burly security guards, trying her best to appear as inconspicuous as possible. Almost mechanically, she took step after step, slowly putting meter after precious meter between herself, and whatever the hell had just happened, the dull muffled beats growing more and more quiet with each one. Apparently, the sun was already rising. Somewhere, somehow, she had lost about five hours in the white void. But at least, according to the newspaper she found, it was still the same day. And somehow, nobody had found out so far. Only once she finally made it back onto the train to Köln did she manage to get her pulse to calm down.
She had gotten everything she had come here for. But she couldn't really feel happy about that. Because she had lost something she hadn't even known she had wanted here. A chance to actually save Harry, before he would have died in the first place. And once more, it had been ripped from her by V̸̄̈́ͅȍ̸͙̍l̸͓͋d̵̨̪̕ę̵̭̓m̴̙̉̅o̶̯͂r̸̞̗͌t̶͇͎̒͗.
And he apparently hadn't even cared at all about the fact she was still working on getting stronger, on reviving Harry, or even that she might be a possible subject of the prophecy. He seemingly had done it just to spite her. And then had just left. If it really had actually been him.
Iris was still very much at the top of her own list of people she hated, but Voldemort was making a good attempt at contesting that spot.
~V~
Somehow, her plan to buy a ticket from Brussels to Lille and just stay on the train until London had worked without a hitch. She had just illegally re-entered her home country by train without the use of any magic. And all it had taken were a few pointed Google-searches and a twenty Euro train ticket. She guessed she'd take her small victory for the day.
Once safely back in London, she had wasted no time to return to the shadows and after a quick and familiar trip along the tube and the bypass road, finally collapsed back on her bed in Privet Drive. From somewhere downstairs, she could hear Vernon loudly ranting about some sort of financial crisis, which she quickly cut off by flinging another Silencing Charm at the door. A soft hoot announced the arrival of Hedwig through the window, carrying yet another letter, no doubt from one of Harry's friends. Yet, she couldn't help but smile at the snowy owl. Iris reached for the table to retrieve some owl treats for her, then picked up the letter she had been carrying.
Hey Iris,
I'm not really sure how to start this, or if it's even my place, but I heard about Harry. It's... I don't know how to put it into words. It is my fault. All of it. And now, before I got the chance to fix it, he has paid the ultimate price for my decisions.
You know, I would do anything I could to change it, give it all up in a heartbeat, if there was any way. And I'm sure you feel the same. And that just makes it worse knowing that there just isn't. I understand if you hate me. I very much feel the same.
I also found out you've gone back to those Muggles. I get it, I really do. Meeting me, someone you've probably only heard about in whispers, after Azkaban—it's a lot. And not the good kind of a lot. I can't blame you for choosing what you know over... well, whatever you might think I am.
I guess I just want to say that I'm here, if you ever want to talk or anything. I know we don't know each other, and after everything, maybe you don't want to. That's okay. I just... I want you to know there's a place for you here, to have someone who will just listen, try to understand, and never judge. Or just to have someone to blame.
Look, I'm not good at this. I don't have any right answers, just a lot of messy feelings and this awkward attempt at reaching out. But you're a Potter, and that means something. You've got a lot of strength, even if you don't see it right now.
I'm not sure what else to say. If you ever feel like it, just send me an owl. If not, that's okay too. Just know that I'm here, and you don't have to do this alone.
Take care of yourself, Iris. And if you ever need someone, well... I'm here.
Sirius
Iris collapsed back onto the bed, the letter tumbling from her grip. She had expected him to reach out at some point, after what she had told Dumbledore, but... it was another thing now that it was right in front of her.
Somehow... between all of her friends, and even Dumbledore, this man... even though she had never properly met him... Well...
His letter read like he was in a very similar headspace to her. Which did make sense. He blamed himself for not being there, for mindlessly charging after Pettigrew instead of protecting them twelve years ago. And in a way, he was right. But also, it really had been Iris' fault.
It really sounded like he could relate. Except that he had given up on Harry. Or rather, that he didn't believe that it could be done. Which was something Iris would never accept.
Maybe he knew something she didn't? Or maybe, he was just stuck with the same preconception as the rest of the wizarding world?
That also left another question. Would he agree to help her with her plan, if she told him about it? Or would he react more like Dumbledore had?
Could she even risk it? What if he told Dumbledore instead?
Yeah. Right now, she knew pretty much nothing about him. For now, she'd continue as planned. And if they ever ended up reconnecting in the future, she'd get to that when she got to it.
Iris reached over to the pile of letters on the table and fished out another one.
Iris,
What the hell is going on?!
My mum just had a mind-healer come by and he said that I have been under a compulsion charm making me think Harry was alright. What the hell happened? Did they charm you as well? Do you know what is going on?
Something happened to Harry, hasn't it? He's been gone ever since that last attack where Lockhart defeated the heir! Do you know what happened? I know you won't stop unless you find him, and I'm gonna be right there with you. No, don't argue. You know I
Do you have a phone number? Or an email? I want to help! I'm sure we can figure this out together, and I know you like to keep these things to yourself, but to quote your own words, right now is really not the time! You agree that Harry needs all the help he can get, right?
Write back. Please. Don't do this alone.
Love, your bestie.
God damnit, Tracey.
What the hell was she supposed to do now? Tell her? Lie to her? Ignore her? Sooner or later she would find out anyway, but...
They had been pretty good friends, she guessed. Tracey did have a right to know. But just telling her in some letter felt... wrong. But so would over email or over the phone. But so did telling her in general, especially when she was still working on bringing him back. At the latest she'd tell her on the train.
But could she really wait that long?
Yeah. Probably a bad idea. Even if it would complicate her plans, but on the one hand, she really needed to reconnect with her to avoid suspicion, and on the other, well, she was her best friend. And even if her plan would benefit from it, she really didn't want to lose her as a friend if she didn't have to.
Unsure what to do, Iris picked up another letter and flipped it open.
Hello Iris,
bet you didn't expect to hear from me again. Listen, I'm sorry for what I did, but you understand, right? It's not like I had much of a choice. Yeah. I'm a shitty friend, thanks for reminding me.
Point is, things have changed. You know the thing in the Prophet, about the attack at King's Cross? Yeah.
My father got arrested that night.
Just from what I read of the eyewitnesses it almost sounds like you might have had something to do with that. If you didn't, I guess it's just proof that I've definitely gotten too used to your particular brand of insanity.
But if you did...
Then I'm in your debt.
If you did, thank you.
I understand if you can't trust me anymore. But if you'll have me, I'd like to resume our deal where we left off. As friends. And this time, it'll be up to you.
—Theo
Iris read and then re-read the letter again. What the fuck else had happened while she had been ignoring all of her mail for the past week? With her luck, the next letter would be from Luna, demanding to know if she kept the Lockhart-Lethifold as a pet in her trunk or something.
Merlin, she just had to jinx it.
Hello Irisistible,
I sent you some in-game mail. And some Skype messages too. Are you not getting them? It is about the last thing we were talking about. Daddy is writing a new article. He has found something massive! It's a whole giant conspiracy! We need to talk. Would you be okay with doing an interview for the Quibbler?
Also, Daddy and me are looking into what happened with Harry. Something about the story that Dumbledore told us, and what's written in the Prophet definitely doesn't add up. I think we're on to something here, and I think you'd be very interested in what we found so far.
P.S.: It has to do with the other thing!
Yes, I know, you are supposed to put these at the end of the letter. But this feels more correct.
Write back, or get online, please, when you can.
MOOnSpiraC
Well, at least she didn't sound all that suspicious. But maybe that was just to bait her into an interview? God. Now she was being suspicious of her own friends. Again.
She really had to get her shit together.
Iris,
there's no easy way to say this.
I was memory charmed. I told everyone that I met with Harry right after Lockhart returned, but that's not true. I never saw him that day, and I suspect Ron hasn't either.
My aunt has been talking to Dumbledore, but if he doesn't find something soon, she'll force him to allow the Aurors back into the castle to find out what happened. Also, there is an investigation into Lockhart now. I don't know much, but apparently, they found Harry's wand at his house.
I'm not supposed to tell anyone about the ongoing investigation, but I really thought you ought to know.
Have you heard anything about Harry? I'm really worried about him. And about you as well.
Please write back. If I don't hear from you by the end of the week, I'll assume someone is messing with your mail again.
Yours, Susan
Great. Now she didn't even have the option of not replying, if she didn't want trench coat guy and Not-Snape to come poking into her business as well. There'd be no point to staying with the Dursleys as opposed to Sirius if she'd have to deal with the possibility of Aurors showing up here.
Hey Iris,
you can't stop me from sending you Cauldron Cakes. Fred and George have secured a supply route right underneath mum's nose so don't worry about me running out. Also, right now, you need them a lot more than I do.
Are those Muggles treating you alright? Harry never talked about them much, but I know it probably wasn't exactly Honeydukes over there, I'm not that dense, you know?
If you do wanna talk, or need some help, just send me an owl. Fred and George got something figured out.
Also, did you get a letter from Hermione as well? She's almost worrying me as much as Harry, mate.
Mum says Dumbledore's got it all figured out, apparently they've been meeting a lot over the past year for some reason, but nobody tells us anything. Please tell me if you find out something, alright? We all wanna help. And we all want Harry back.
Enjoy the Cauldron Cakes.
—Ron
And of course, there was not one, but two chocolate Caudron Cakes attached to the letter. That bloody git.
Hi Iris,
sorry if this letter is... you know. Awkward. You don't have to reply, I just—
I know we haven't talked much lately, and you probably don't want to be friends anyway, hell I know I'm just slowing you down. But I just,I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. We didn't talk much ever since you switched potions partners, and no, I'm not complaining, also it was Snape's decision anyway, but I still... you know, notice things.
Sorry if that's awkward. Towards the end of the year, something happened with your friends. You haven't talked with your friends in your house, something happened with Harry as well, and then we both got petrified as well.
I hope you still had at least someone to talk to.
But regardless, I guess I just wanted to say that I'm here. If you ever want to talk, or just... you know.
Sorry.
Just forget it okay?
I just hope you are doing well, and that Harry is too.
Neville
Iris stared. She hadn't even realized it, but now that he had said it... She really had been in a bad spot. It had all come together in the worst way possible. All of her friends had been cut off for one reason or another, all except Susan, she guessed, but they hadn't been all that good of friends anyway, and Luna, but she had been the main suspect at the time.
Oh, yeah, and Ron. She still saw him as Harry's friend in her mind, even after all he had done lately.
She had been completely on her own, unable to sleep, unable to think, and when it had come down to it, when she saw that chance for that extra bit of power, that just might give her the edge and allow her to protect Harry, she had dismissed all caution and reached for it, in the end achieving the exact opposite.
Never again.
She needed to think clearly, to make decisions that would actually help Harry, no matter how dire the situation around her. That was what her Mindlight was supposed to do. But from the way she had achieved it, while it really did boost her thoughts, it was no help in trying to steer them, or preventing herself from dwelling even further on Hows and Whys instead of trying to think of a solution. Maybe she really had to start working on how to actually empty her mind...
Dear Iris,
I am writing you this letter in regard to Harry.
It was my fault.
It was my stupid plan, it went wrong, and the heir went after you because of it to get back at Harry. And now he's missing; looking for you. I'm not asking you to forgive me. I know better than that. But I am asking for your help.
I may or may not have found a way to track down Harry, and it may or may not involve a certain field of magic that would fall within your expertise, according to Harry. You know I can't write more in a letter. I tried to come by your place, but you weren't there. I live in Hampstead, the address is on the back of the envelope. If you do have the time, I would really appreciate if you could come by to make sure I got it right. If you don't, that's alright. I'll wait until his birthday, that should probably have the best effect.
Yours sincerely,
Hermione Granger
Well, shit. They just weren't giving her a break, were they?
Now she not only had to figure out what to tell everyone, but also make sure Hermione's ritual didn't blow up half of Hampstead trying to find someone that could not be found.
Should she just ignore it? She might be fine, she might mess it up, but that wouldn't really affect...
No. It was one thing to do what was necessary, but that certainly didn't include letting her friends get hurt just because she couldn't be bothered to spare a few hours to help them. Even if Hermione wasn't really her friend. But she was Harry's friend. And working under the assumption that he wasn't dead—that she'd bring him back at some point—that still meant something.
There was one letter remaining.
Just how bad could it really be?
I am sorry, Iris.
I am so very very sorry. I know what you said, I remember all of it. But I also remember what Sirius said.
He was right. I am useless. I haven't done a single thing right by the two of you.
James would have told me the same. And Lily wouldn't have told me anything, she would have probably just killed me herself.
And even after everything, knowing all that, I couldn't even bring myself to tell you this in person.
I have done nothing for all of your childhood. I have done nothing while you were facing off against You-Know-Who. I have done nothing while you were taken to the Chamber, and while Harry was killed trying to save you.
I am cursed, Iris. Cursed in more ways than one.
And the only way to deal with a curse is to expunge it.
He was right. It is better for everyone.
—
Iris' mouth felt dry as a desert.
The letter was not signed. But it didn't have to be.
Iris couldn't think. There was no way...
Did he mean that he was going to stay out of her life, or did he mean—
Iris clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes still glued to the parchment.
No... No. No, No!
Fuck!
No. She wasn't even going to go there.
He would be alright. And she'd work with that assumption until she had definite proof one way or another.
She had gone through a rollercoaster and a half reading all of the letters, but somehow, the end result left her only feeling numb. So much had happened without her being there for it that Iris was kind of scared of just reading the next Prophet.
What was she supposed to do now? She still had no idea what to tell her friends, what to tell Sirius, or what to do about Hermione. And it was only complicated by Dumbledore having asked her to keep the fact Harry was dead under wraps until he managed to spread the message in a way that wouldn't cause complete panic and collapse the government or whatever.
Not that she really cared about that much where her friends were concerned. But he was also right. If the ministry fell to Voldemort in a panic, it would be much harder if not impossible to do what she had to.
After lying on her bed for what felt like forever, she finally gathered herself enough to get up, collect the discarded letters and move over to the desk. Iris paused. There, between the table and the bed, in the narrow gap on the ground, rested another forgotten letter.
Potter,
we need to talk.
Come find me next to the streetlamp on the mountain road in the place where the barrier was.
And yet another unsigned letter. And somehow, this one was even more ominous than the last one.
Iris of course knew what the letter was talking about. She wasn't likely to ever forget. And consequently, she also knew who it was from. But the implication of what it said sent a shiver down her spine.
Did that mean... she was still in her mind? Even now? Or was this another thing about her having to agree to something?
Crap! Yeah, she had permitted her to enter that part of her mind. And she had never put any time-limit on that agreement. Fuck!
Did that mean... the vision with the crossroads, had that also been her? Had she been trying to influence her decision? Or do... something, she didn't know. What else had she done while she was in there? Iris couldn't think, but she was also suddenly reluctant to fire up her Mindlight to try and figure it out.
What had she gotten herself into this time?
But in the end, she had to know. The alternative was to just let it sit, ignore it, and possibly let the girl do whatever the hell she wanted in her mind.
No. No matter how much she disliked this, she'd have to go and see for herself.
Iris took a breath, and slowly called the Indigo back into her brain. Brighter and brighter, as she focused on that familiar mountain road, the dimly lit orange streetlights, and that exact place where there had been the giant yellow warning sign, before they had recklessly torn it down along with the barrier.
Slowly, her room, her body, and the real world took the backseat as the image in her mind became more vivid, more real, until she was all but standing on that very road, feeling the loose gravel crunch underneath her feet, her hair whip in the storm which still raged to this day, and saw her vision tinged green by the familiar moon burning in the sky.
Iris slowly made her way down the road, until she reached that exact spot where the barrier had originally resided. There were still marks of scraped asphalt on the ground where she had pushed it down the road. Behind her, however, the scenery had changed. This was where the new and improved crossroads lay, two of the paths blocked off by traffic cones by now.
Tense with anticipation, Iris turned to inspect the streetlamp right next to her. What would she do if she found nothing? Or worse, what would she do if she found... something?
Looking up and down the tall green metallic lamppost, Iris couldn't spot anything out of place. All just regular ordinary Muggle—
Oh. It wasn't the lamp. But right next to it, looking just as Muggle, and blending in with the scenery perfectly, there was an orange emergency roadside telephone station.
Iris held her breath, and carefully approached the small metallic device.
It looked like a regular telephone. Well, almost. It had a bright orange receiver hung on a cradle at the front, and it had some buttons. But they were all labeled with random numbers, without any sense of order to it. And every time she looked, the order seemed to be different.
So... what now? She supposed she could try to give her a call? Iris hesitantly picked up the receiver and held it to her ear, only to be met with a bog-standard dial tone. After staring at the buttons with increasing frustration, she shrugged, reached out and began to push random numbers.
She was met with three sharp ascending tones, followed by a female voice. "The number you have dialed has not been recognized."
Well, no shit, Sherlock. Okay then, it was time for a more arcane approach.
Iris pushed down the cradle for a second until the dial tone returned, took another breath, and closed her eyes. Then, she began pressing buttons, while mentally spelling G-R-E-E-N-G-R-A-S-S.
"Well, it's about time."
Iris whipped around at the unexpected voice, dropping the receiver she hadn't quite raised to her ear yet.
Standing in the middle of the road was a girl—slender, with long black hair and piercing eyes that seemed to waver between blue and indigo. Her usually impassive face showed a trace of weariness, her cheekbones looking sharper than usual—almost gaunt—as if she'd been taking tips from Aunt Petunia's book of questionable dieting advice. Clearly, she wasn't having the best week.
Greengrass raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly winning any beauty pageants either, you know."
Iris couldn't help but notice her own bedraggled appearance. Her ill-fitting and sweat-soaked muggle attire, her sticky hair trying to emulate Harry's bird's nest, and the almost palpable bags under her eyes that probably had their own postal code by now. She hadn't planned on leaving her room today, much less dealing with... whatever this was. Also, was Greengrass reading her mind again?
Iris shot her a deadpan look. "I'd rather not end up with another migraine today, thanks."
Greengrass' expression tightened briefly, remembering the last mental feedback loop fiasco. Neither of them was keen on a repeat performance.
"So... what the hell is this, Greengrass? Why are you poking around in my head?"
The girl shrugged nonchalantly. "You invited me. I'm just a friendly guest."
Yeah, fuck you too.
"When hell freezes over, Potter."
Iris met her gaze and brought a faint glow of Indigoo̵͎̒͂̔̔͝ö̶͚͚̳̖͋̑͗͋̈͝o̶̲̺̥͍̩̒̅̒̎̉̀̈́͒̈́̓̄́ơ̸̧̝̬̤̜̹̼̥̺̖͈͉̓̐͛̒̀̽͗̚̚O̷͕̞̐̃̅O̶̥̠͎͖͔͂̑̄̅̄̃̅̑̕Ö̸̢̨̩̏̍͌́͗͂̿̕O̷͍̍̿̈́͆̈́̎̍́́̽̃̃͌̌̕͠O̶̢̢̢̱̹͇̼̞̫̺̹̺̹̖̝͂̐̆̀́̇̎͑͆͑͐́̿̑̀̏͆̈̐̑͘̕̕͝͝͠Ơ̷̧̧̡̡̛̮̰͈̺̹͙̙̰̖̗̮̺̣̠͈̒̎͐̈́̽̊̉̐̌͋̔̇̑̓͆́̈̕̕͠͝͠Ǫ̷̛̪͂̎͒̾̒͝Ö̸̘̼͔̪̦͈̬̠̙̯̫̠́͋͊̆̓̃͗̊̃́̆̿̔̿͝͝͠Ỏ̴̪͉̻̯̙̰͉̗͓͕̙͙̤̮̘͙̓̾̌͐̂̾͒͛͊͝—
She stumbled to the ground with a gasp from the mental backlash, her brain still ringing like a bell. Yeah, that had hurt like a bitch. But that delicious groan of pain from Greengrass made it all worth it. Iris picked herself up, shooting her a defiant glare.
Greengrass straightened up, brushing invisible dust from her Hogwarts robes with an air of annoyance. Her eyes locked onto Iris', and for a moment, the intensity sent a chill down her spine. But Iris held her ground. "Was that really necessary, Potter?" Greengrass snapped, frustration lacing her voice. "We need to talk, not spar."
As if she hadn't been messing with Iris'head just moments ago. "Then spill it," Iris snapped back, trying to stay composed. "What do you want?"
The black-haired girl sighed, glancing away momentarily, as if gathering her thoughts. "I needed to speak to you," she said quietly. "There's something you need to know, something... important."
Iris crossed her arms, keeping her distance but intrigued nonetheless. "And you couldn't just send an owl? This isn't exactly... normal, Greengrass."
The girl's lips quirked in a wry smile, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Since when do you donormal, Potter? I was starting to think you didn't know the meaning of the word."
Iris raised an eyebrow at her. "What's with all the sass? You found a personality while rummaging through my head?"
Greengrass shot her a glare but didn't reply. After a moment, she brushed it off, and continued in a serious tone, "This isn't something that can be put in a letter. It's too dangerous, too... personal."
Iris swallowed. Did she know? How?
The girl turned away and began pacing along the road.
"Yesterday, Malfoy was invited over by my sister," she said, almost growling the last words.
Okay, that wasn't where she had seen this going. Iris hadn't even known that the girl had a sister. "What did he do?"
Greengrass visibly gathered herself, then continued talking. "Nothing. It's nothing he did, nothing that happened. It's something he knew."
The girl shot her a meaningful look. So Greengrass had poked around inside his head as well then? That girl really didn't give a toss, did she?
"Apparently, the Malfoys are currently hosting a long-term guest at their manor," Greengrass continued, then met her eyes again. "A guest with a Name that we both recently learned."
Iris drew in a sharp breath. V̷̛̖̳̓͘o̴̹͆̄ͅl̶̟̖̿d̵͑̀̎̚͜e̷̖̊͗̊̑ṃ̵̗̭̹́ò̵̝͈̚ͅr̸̭͆̊̆t̴̰̰̮̱͗̎. Shit.
"In addition, they are holding gatherings of his closest followers. Gatherings to which little Draco, of course, is not allowed. But he still overheard things. And also..." Greengrass trailed off there, turning to pace down the road again. "Never mind."
"Anyway, there is one tidbit in particular that he was privy to, which had apparently been shared around accompanied with both celebration and worry."
Was this about something else after all?
"It's about your brother," Greengrass said quietly.
No, she really was going there. But how could they know? The only ones who knew were Dumbledore, and probably some of the Order... Well, actually, Voldemort had apparently known, since he had showed up to stop her from undoing it, so he had probably told the rest of them then. Had he somehow found out through Myrtle?
"I know." Iris replied, her gaze dropping to her feet. "I found him."
The girl kept staring at her for a while. The storm was silently raging above their heads, tousling their hair, her shirt, and Greengrass' robes. After what felt like a minute of silence, the only word she managed was, "Oh."
"Thanks anyway. For... you know... trying to tell me."
She stared back at Iris for a while, before speaking up again. "There was... another thing... i wanted to talk to you about."
Of course there was an ulterior motive. Iris met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"It's about our deal," the girl said bluntly.
Iris gave her a deadpan stare. "You really expect me to hold up my end, after you almost got me killed?"
Greengrass met her with an inscrutable gaze. "I admit that... things may not have quite gone to plan..."
"Trying to extradite Grindelwald overseas didn't quite go to plan. What you did was just plain stupid," Iris sniped back.
She was perfectly aware that she was one to talk, but she was also perfectly capable of ignoring that fact when it suited her.
"I know that... now..." Greengrass admitted, almost taking the wind out of Iris' sails. "I thought it was a curse... That I could study it... And I was wrong."
"Would it kill you to actually apologize?" Iris helpfully sprinkled in.
Greengrass, of course, had been momentarily placed under the curse of Babel. "My point is that I failed on my end, even if you ultimately achieved what you set out to do. So, I would like to propose an altered deal."
Iris raised an eyebrow and held her gaze expectantly.
"You were right, I do need help. But so do you."
The girl turned, and surveyed the part of the street that led down the hill, ending up in that familiar crossroads.
"Given the change in scenery, I think I can take a guess at what you plan to do with the information I came here to share."
Iris froze, suddenly realizing the reality of the situation. How much did she know? Was there a good excuse? What could she tell her to lead her thoughts onto another track that wouldn't end up in—
Greengrass tilted her head to meet her gaze over her shoulder. "Please. Your thoughts on the matter couldn't be more obvious; even without me risking another migraine."
She slowly turned to face Iris again, then began to approach her, step by step, until she was almost right in her face.
"You are planning to do something that is impossible," Greengrass stated matter-of-factly.
And yeah, she was right on the money. Was she really that easy to read? Did Dumbledore know? Or was she just reading her mind again, despite implying to the contrary?
What was she supposed to do about her now? Was Greengrass blackmailing her? Could she even do something about her here? If this space just existed in her mind, Iris had no idea if casting any magic at her would actually do anything. Well, except for Mind Magic, that was. But that was the one area of magic where Greengrass very much had the upper hand. In fact, she was so far beyond her it wasn't even a contest.
"And as luck would have it, so am I."
Iris' mind was spinning. Was this where it was going?
"You... you are trying to bring someone back?" Iris couldn't help but ask, only too late realizing from the smirk on the girl's face that she had just accidentally confirmed Greengrass' suspicions.
"In a way," she replied, tilting her head.
What the hell was that even supposed to mean?
"My point is, we will both soon run into the same kinds of problems. And as you put it, I might need help, but I can't involve anyone else. And the same now goes for you."
Iris pondered that for a moment. "So, what do you suggest?" she finally queried.
Greengrass gave a nonchalant flick of her fingers. "Think of it as a... silent partnership."
Iris shot her an incredulous look, waiting for elaboration.
"We assist each other as needed, cover for each other when possible, keep each other's secrets, and share only what's absolutely necessary to avoid compromising ourselves," she enumerated, ticking off points on her fingers, mirroring Iris' previous gesture back then in the bathroom.
Right. Of course she still wouldn't tell her what it was all about. This didn't sound any better of an idea than it had a week ago. Even worse, actually, seeing how she had treated their last agreement, when she had strayed from the plan and almost gotten both of them stuck as mental vegetables from learning V̵̹̩̺̈͝ò̸̟̥̩l̵͚̺͎̄̒ḏ̷͚̳͒ë̶̼́m̶̢͍͈͗͆͜o̶̩͍͆̄̃́r̷̢̢̤̝̎͑̀̾t̴̫͒̿͌͆'s Name.
But then again, now the scales had shifted. Greengrass knew about her mission, and there wasn't much Iris could do about that. While Iris had some dirt on Greengrass, like her dabbling in Mind Magic and likely using it on her roommate, it paled in comparison to what Iris was planning. Greengrass probably didn't know much, except that she was trying to bring Harry back. And she was up to something similar herself. Whatever that meant.
As much as Iris hated it, she didn't need to know more, as long as the girl would help her bring Harry back. Sure, Greengrass could betray her, run to Dumbledore, but she already knew enough to be a threat. Their deal meant Iris wouldn't have to divulge anything more, but she might learn enough along the way to balance the scales.
Iris faced a choice: agree, potentially advance her goal while risking betrayal, or decline, still risk betrayal, and continue alone. She could find another way to handle Greengrass later, but not immediately.
Another thing to consider was the fact that she had originally agreed to help her. And mutual agreements could be finnicky where magic was concerned, especially Mind Magic. She had no idea what would happen if she willfully broke it, but then again, it probably wouldn't be too bad, or else the girl wouldn't have made this offer at all. Back then, they had just been standing in the bathroom, and Iris hadn't been using any Mind Magic whatsoever. But right now, they both were within an entirely fictional space. And here, agreements like that would mean something. This time, she probably couldn't easily go back on it, if things went wrong. But most of what she'd said really didn't sound like all that much of a big deal. Except the keeping each other's secrets part. That... she'd have to watch out for that.
No, thinking again, this was likely the main reason she was doing this here, now, in the first place. She wanted to trick her into a binding agreement that would protect her secrets. Well, Iris supposed, she could work with that; the agreement would work the other way around just as well.
But all things considered, Greengrass really could prove a valuable ally—if only for her skill in Mind Magic, an area where Iris was still sorely lacking. And she didn't even have to trust her, unlike last time there would be no need to further let the girl poke around in her mind.
"You'd better stay away from her." Once more Neville's words echoed through her mind. She hadn't seen it back then, but right now the reality was staring her in the face with an intensity that required a lot of mental effort not to break the gaze.
Iris was probably going to regret this, wasn't she?
"Fine." Iris took a breath, and held out her hand. "It's a deal."
Greengrass stared at the proffered appendage with an amused expression, before turning serious. She reached out to grab it, gave a firm shake, and withdrew again.
Iris slowly turned back towards the emergency telephone still innocently sitting beside the road, the receiver dangling to the ground by the cord. Iris reached down to pick it up, resting it in her palm, inspecting it for a moment.
Then, she turned back to meet the girl's gaze once more. "Don't call me, I'll call you."
In return, she received a faint smirk. "Next time, try not to call in your underwear."
Iris slammed the receiver onto the cradle, causing the black-haired girl to promptly fade into thin air.
"It's Muggle streetwear; not underwear," Iris replied to the empty road, definitely not blushing.