Chapter 16 - Equal and Opposite
"You may have read in some books, or perhaps even learned in charms, that magic is all about balance."
A piece of chalk sipped off the desk and began to scrawl the word Balance onto the blackboard.
"Every action always causes an equal and opposite reaction. Every force leads to a similar counterforce opposing it. Every light casts an equally strong shadow."
The chalk proceeded to write out the words Light and Darkness, and circle each of them.
"This rule applies for all of physics, and even onto many facets of magic. Arithmancy, potions, runes, you will find variations of this anywhere. So when you see two opposite natural forces, it is easy to assume in reverse that they are, in fact... equal."
Professor Black let that sit for a bit, until he suddenly adopted a much more foreboding tone. "And yet I am here to tell you that when it comes to the most arcane of magics, this assumption is categorically... false."
Iris sat a little straighter in her chair.
"Two equal and opposite forces, yet one of them dominates the other at every turn. The Dementor and the Patronus Charm. One requires skill and power, the other just is. One can save, the other destroy. One can be destroyed, the other merely driven away."
Well, maybe? If what she'd seen had worked on Lethifolds... would that work on Dementors as well?
"There are three Unforgivable Curses, completely unblockable; unavoidable fates as soon as they are cast. Yet there is no single 'Forgivable' out there. No Light equivalent to the most powerful terrors that Darkness can wreak."
That was true, she supposed. Also, while there was a shadow realm, she was pretty sure there wasn't a light realm, or some other equivalent. Not that she had ever been good enough with Light Polarized Magic to try and find out.
"The magical world is inherently and unquestionably... unfair."
Iris noticed Malfoy shooting a look at her over his shoulder.
"Balance," Professor Black said, flicking his wand to erase the word from the blackboard, "is an illusion. Equality," he continued with another flick, causing the word Darkness to grow until it took up half the blackboard, "...is a lie."
Iris swallowed. Was that the reason why it had been so much easier to produce the shadows? Also, there was the Tenebris spell, which made summoning shadows comparatively trivial—not that she had ever needed that spell or would be able to cast it in the first place. But she was also painfully aware that there didn't seem to be a Light equivalent, again.
As wrong as it sounded, as ominous as the conclusion was, it seemed to reaffirm her own observations regarding Polarized Magic.
"They say that all men are created equal," Black said in a low voice, "yet some of us are born with the ability to cast magic."
He braced his hands on his desk in front of him. "Some are born taller, some smarter, some with a great singing voice. Every single human being is inherently different."
"And yet they will tell you that for us, magic is the great equalizer. That the dedicated person can reach heights which the talented person could only ever dream of."
Okay, what was up with Malfoy? She was kind of tempted to try her mind reading trick on him just because he kept meeting her eyes.
"But they conveniently forget one simple, painful truth. That the same talented person, with that very same dedication, will reach heights... that nobody could ever dream of."
Silence followed that statement. Iris really wondered where he was going with this. Was he actually telling everyone to just give up hope?
"The magical world is inherently unfair. And the strong will take what they want, while the rest of us try to stay out of their way."
He paused, leaving that to linger for a second, before he whispered, "and yet, for every Grindelwald that is defeated by another titan like Dumbledore, there is also a Goliath like You-Know-Who that was brought down by someone like Harry. And not because a one year old baby was some sort of magical prodigy," he added with a wry smile.
"Magic is inherently unfair. But that truth goes both ways. It can be the smallest thing that can make the biggest difference. The weakest spell that can strike down a titan. The key," he finished in a whisper, "is our ingenuity."
Right. She wasn't sure if she agreed with everything there. Yes, a lucky shot could take down a giant, but that fact alone still didn't shift the scales. It was the whole reason why she had spent every free minute practicing for almost two years now. It was the same reason why she suspected Dumbledore was doing something like this in the first place. There was no better way he could ensure the right outcome than through his own presence.
"Dumbledore is doing what?"
Iris froze, then stifled the urge to groan. How the hell was she supposed to keep her attempts at necromancy secret if her ability to hold onto this one not even confirmed piece of information was any indication?
"It's your own fault for contemplating something interesting like that while still on the phone."
Iris wondered just how much pain and humiliation she could get away with without violating the agreement made between them. There had been no requirement to protect each other, or even to not attack each other...
"Believe me, you don't want to go down that road," said the mental black-haired girl. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to elaborate? As much as I wish to the contrary, I can only read your surface thoughts."
Iris closed her eyes, took a long breath, and finally caved.
"I suspect that Dumbledore will use the funeral to announce that Voldem̴̡̧̛͇̹͖͍͈̬̹̟͎̤̐́̐̈́̋̕͝m̴̨̧̧̤̘̮̖̙̦̫̞͕̪̼͊̒̇̈́̋̾̃͜m̵̪̠̞͎̖̱̮̏̋͋̌ǫ̷͇͍̪̬̙͚̭̮̯͑͑̐̓͋̈́̆̈́͠ọ̸̭̇̉̏̇͌͋̌̈͛o̶̖͕̻͙̣͍̜͎̘̰̠̊͆̈́͆͜͜͠͝ò̷̧̧̳̭͖̼͇̦̪̣̳̳͈͇̖̠̻̊̌̅͘o̶̼̻̖͔͉͍̰͐ö̸̡̧̡̝̺͇̬̘͋̎̐̈͗̉́̋͜͝͝Ö̵̘̼͇́̋̂́̄̇̈́̇̃̀̿̌̕͘͘O̷̧̹̪̘͎͇̗̲͒́̐̆͠O̵̧̠̭̹̱̠̺̙̮̹̗̱͍̭̯̦̽̿́͛̒́̍͒Ơ̵̹̔̾͗̐̆̾͐Ō̵̧͉̗̭̙͙̺̹̩͋̾͂̆̅̉͊̒̈̏̅͑̀́͝
A lance of pain pierced through her reality, burrowed deep into the present moment, and refused to let it go. Iris stared with ringing ears across the street at the black-haired girl as jagged fissures tore the ground apart. The asphalt quickly began to crumble away, as the Name started echoing louder and louder, and blinding angry red light burst through. Greengrass just stood there, frozen in place, as the ground crumbled away beneath her, until she slowly began to slip, and fall.
Iris lunged forward and reached out a hand. Her fingers slipped, then barely caught the girl's slackened hand as she fell down the rift in the ground and towards the unearthed gigantic red moon that seemed to suck everything in without mercy.
Iris Lily Potter. Focus. She had to fight it; remember her Name.
Voldemort!
She could make out all the craters, grooves, cracks, every single rock littering the red surface of the infinitely large moon. She saw the entire surface all at once, no matter where she looked.
Iris Lily Potter!
She had been careless! Iris had gotten so used to using his Name inside her mind, that it had just slipped out of her mental projection without a second thought. But apparently, there was a distinct difference between just thinking the Name, and saying it out loud, even if just inside her mindscape. And that wasn't even getting into what it had done to Greengrass.
Iris tried to pull her up, but the moon refused to let her go. Her mind was trapped by the Name, and seemingly, so was her body, at least in this place. She shook the arm which was holding the limp appendage of the girl up as if by a thread. "Daphne! Wake up!"
There was no response. What else could she do? Iris looked around desperately, and her eyes finally fell onto the green moon, flaring brightly in the sky. That's right.
Iris Lily Potter.
It was like the two moons clashed, except without touching. There was no visible attack, ray of light, or anything at all going between the two. It just felt like the green moon had smashed into the red one, except without either of them having moved. And Iris herself was caught in the middle of it. The light was growing brighter and brighter, and their entire surroundings were slowly turning yellow.
But it felt distinctly different. Yes, red and green made yellow, but she didn't think either of the colors had anything to do with the aspects they usually represented. This was an entirely different kind of magic. A magic which she didn't understand.
But she did understand one thing. Whatever it was, the green moon was on her side. And it was the only thing holding the magic of his Name at bay.
But wouldn't that make the green moon—
"What have you done, you imbecile?"
Greengrass was glaring up at her, still dangling from her grip.
"Sorry. I... I wasn't thinking..."
"That seems to be a pattern with you."
Iris wanted to snipe back, but for once, she couldn't help but agree. Come on, get it together. Iris Lily Potter.
With an almighty motionless lurch, the green moon asserted itself, and the red wavered for a second. Iris wrenched her arm as hard as she could, adding some Force for good measure, and flung Greengrass from the hole back onto solid ground, just as the red moon was pushed lower and lower underneath the surface.
Iris blinked and threw a sheepish glance across at the real Greengrass, who had apparently stumbled in her seat, but was now gathering herself yet again. There were some odd looks from the surrounding students, especially from Tracey. She turned back towards the front of the class, and was met with a piercing stare from her Professor. He didn't say anything however, and after a fraction of a second, he just continued with the lesson, almost as if she had just imagined it.
Holy crap. Way to go, Iris. Yet another near-death encounter with the fucking Dark Lord. This time, it had even been entirely her own fault. In fact, the whole thing, how she had felt, how her mind had felt... had been so damn similar to that one second there in Germany...
Had it happened inside her mind after all? But then where had the Time Reverser gone? Was it because she had summoned him somehow? Or rather, his Name? She had been thinking of the worst thing that could happen, and the worst thing had shown up...
Iris had no idea. But she resolved to be more careful with his Name in the future.
~V~
As certain as the motion of the planets, Iris had expected to be called to Black's office at the conclusion of the lesson. So she was thrown for a bit of a loop when nothing of the sort happened. Yes, he was still shooting odd glances her way, but he hadn't called out for her in any way. So instead, Iris pretended to already be in a hurry, quickly gathered up her things, and made for the door.
She needed to get away. Both from him, and from Greengrass. She had all but smashed the receiver into the cradle the moment they had regained control of their minds, and had refused to pick up the phone since then, both from the shame of her blunder and what it might have cost them, but also because she wanted to utilize the lucky break to avoid bringing yet another person into the not-quite-plan she had sort of cobbled together on a whim. Also, she really wanted to talk to Luna, and was trying to catch her before lunch.
Iris found said girl sitting in her usual spot at the end of the Ravenclaw table, and after shooting her a hesitant look and receiving a just as hesitant smile in return, she swallowed and made to sit down across from her actual first friend.
"Hey..." she began awkwardly.
Luna looked up, but didn't reply, and instead took another bite from her pudding. Iris shot her an awkward smile and began to load up her plate, trying to figure out a way to start the conversation. "So uhm..."
Iris paused as she noticed that Luna had put down her spoon, and instead retrieved what looked like a notepad and a pen from her bag. She nervously clicked it for a few times, before setting it down on the notepad, taking a breath, until she finally met her gaze, a much more serious expression than she had ever seen on her face.
"Iris Potter," she began, her voice still airy but also decidedly determined.
"Huh?" Iris replied dumbfounded.
"Would you be willing to answer a few questions for the Quibbler?"
Iris froze, glancing back and forth between her food, Luna, and the pen. Crap. She had completely forgotten. Also, really? They hadn't talked in a month, and this was the first question out of her?
She met the girl's gaze once more and noticed her fidget, as if she wasn't quite sure what she was doing herself. But she also couldn't turn her down like that. Not only were they supposed to be friends, but refusing to answer would raise even more questions in of itself.
"Sure, I guess," Iris finally replied. "Are you sure you want to—"
Luna didn't even let her finish offering her an out. "When did you first notice anything suspicious about Gilderoy Lockhart's past stories?"
Ah. So it would be about that. Also, the way she was asking... as if they were being recorded or something? Which, well, given the existence of Pensieves, might not be that far from the truth... Fine, she could work with this.
"Originally, they did sound quite fantastical and very improbable, so I had my reservations before first meeting him, but he did show a very deep understanding of all the materials in the book during our first class."
"So you didn't suspect him at all? Even considering he was the Defense teacher?"
Iris shook her head. "I was not convinced there was anything really off until I first found a memory about what happened with his last book, Laughing with Lethifolds..." Iris trailed off, only now realizing that this would raise some questions that she wasn't sure if she should or even could answer.
"Fascinating. What kind of memory? Where did you get it from? And what did you learn?"
Iris held her breath. She wasn't really ready to talk about anything involving Myrtle, not that that would be a good idea anyhow. She had no idea what to tell her here, other than that she somehow had a Pensieve that she probably shouldn't have and possibly had inherited from Myrtle. And that was a can of worms she definitely wouldn't be opening up in an interview like this. So she guessed she could go with a half-truth.
"I did come into possession of a Pensieve from an unrelated third party, and one night, I suddenly found the memory in it. Although who had placed it there and why... I couldn't tell you. But whoever it was must have gotten into my dorm."
Iris wasn't sure if that was the only option. After all, there was also the chance that it already had been in there whenever Myrtle had first acquired it in the strange room, and had just placed her own memories on top of them, or maybe not even cared at all since she only needed the Pensieve for use in her room, where silly things like outside logic did not necessarily apply anyway.
"Do you think it could have been placed there by the Nargles?"
Or... that, she supposed. Unsure what to reply, Iris instead moved on to her other questions. "It was a memory of Lockhart, the woman named Mathilda from his book, as well as the barkeep Robert and, well, the victim. And it showed their final confrontation with the Lethifold."
"Do you still have this memory?"
Iris blinked. Actually... Why not? "Yeah, I do."
"Would you be willing to share it?" Luna asked with a gleam in her eyes, to which Iris gave a simple hesitant nod. At least, the interview seemed to have somewhat lifted her spirits for now. "Great! So what does it show?"
Iris shrugged and gave a brief recap of the memory she had found in the Pensieve about Mathilda adapting the Interdictio Mendacium Charm to work against Lethifolds.
Luna nodded sagely as she concluded her tale. "So you had some doubts, had very concerning questions after finding a memory which does not match up with the published work, and contained some inconsistencies itself. Do you think it is possible the memory was manipulated?"
Iris did a double take. She hadn't even realized that the first time around, she had been mostly focused on the implications that would have for Harry's whereabouts. But now that she mentioned it, yes, there were some glaring issues with that memory. Most notably, the inconsistent Patronus. The time-skip could probably either be explained by someone having removed a portion of it, or by whoever had created the memory in the first place having used two consecutive memories instead. How could she be sure that the memory had actually been the reality of what had happened? She did have her fair share of experiences with manipulated memories after all...
"Do you mean the spell? The time-skip? Or the Patronus?"
"That, and the fact that the Lethifold wasn't actually laughing," Luna replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Do you think it is possible that he had two contradicting Patronus forms because he had a similarly contradicting personality?"
"Well, there is one theory I had... You notice how he claimed to have performed all these deeds, cast all these rare spells in his books like Interdictio Mendacium? Yet in the memory, he claims that he would have no idea where to even start with it. But I know from first-hand experience that he was able to cast that spell during our year at Hogwarts at least. So that leaves two options."
"Either he studied up and learned the spell to keep up the ruse, or...?" Luna helpfully supplied.
"Or..." Iris continued, "It is a result of the ritual that he did, which by changing the past to fit his books, could result in him actually gaining the knowledge and skill required to have truly done those deeds himself."
Luna's eyes went wide and she began furiously scribbling.
"And following that train of thought... if he acquired the skill to cast the Patronus the same way, possibly by having performed it in a public place where many people remembered seeing the Patronus form, maybe the ritual did not just grant him the spell, but the form as well."
"Right, that brings me directly to the main topic of the interview. About his latest book, Scheming with Snakes, and your theory as to the truth behind it."
Iris swallowed, but decided to continue. Luna knew a lot of this stuff anyway, she was just making it official, and making sure that Harry's deeds wouldn't be attributed to the toothpaste-commercial-turned-Lethifold instead.
"I had a theory that he may be using some sort of ritual, which would make his books turn into reality."
Luna nodded. "That sounds like a very interesting concept, definitely worthy of the front page of the Quibbler. What was it that led you to this assumption?"
"If the memory I found was the truth, that would mean that his stories were fake after all, which would also explain the glaring inconsistencies in his books that many have found and keep pointing out. Yet that leaves the problem that with every investigation, not only does all the evidence including spell residue match up with the story, but every single witness corroborates the story, and showed no signs of memory manipulation, according to what I have heard."
Luna kept nodding along. Most of this knowledge she had actually learned from the girl herself, as well as Ginny, during many of their infamous debates. She just hoped Luna would understand that she wasn't going to go into anything involving Harry.
"But then his latest book comes out and has so many glaring errors, inconsistencies, and straight up made up chapters that it would be impossible for people not to notice after some time. Yet it reads exactly like all of his other books otherwise. That led me to assume that this book was no different, yet for some reason people could now see the inconsistencies that they usually couldn't. Or at least, they still could."
"But couldn't it also mean that the memory was fake, and it was only now that he truly wasn't everything that his stories made him out to be?"
Iris opened her mouth to object, but then paused, mulling it over. "I... but what would be different about this book compared to the other ones? Considering what he was doing was already..." Iris trailed off, noticing the girl's expression. Was she just trying to get her to slip up in some way? "Weren't you the one who was convinced that he had to be a fraud?"
Luna's expression didn't change. "He was the Defense Professor," she simply replied, as if that explained anything. "It's the position that's making them evil. It's supposed to be cursed, after all."
Luna shot a glance towards the head table where said evil Defense Professor was animatedly arguing with Professor Flitwick, while almost stabbing McGonagall in the eye with his wildly gesturing fork.
"He wasn't evil, you know?" Iris added sullenly. "Hell, he tried. He wanted to... do the right thing, to try and save Harry. And when he couldn't, he just... took advantage of the opportunity. He didn't even harm anyone or destroy anything, well, except for memories, I guess."
"Right, memories," Luna replied. "How would he achieve something like that in the first place?"
Iris took a breath. Was it a good idea to provide her full theory? Was it dangerous to put the knowledge of how to manipulate reality out there? She guessed she could leave out the important details just to be sure, also to not implicate herself by knowing a little too much about rituals in the first place.
"One large donation of the entire revenue of each book, some time after it was released, including any future revenue as well. I thought all of these donations he kept making were kind of suspicious, especially since he didn't really seem the type to just do things out of the goodness of his heart, if you knew the truth behind his books at least. He didn't actually go around helping people, he just liked to be remembered as someone who does. But giving away so much money to the point he can barely afford plain robes would if anything just hurt his image, so I really didn't see him doing that. And that had me thinking that they might not be donations at all. And the theory about his money being used to bribe people to stay silent made not that much sense either, especially given the fact he would have needed to bribe a quarter of Hogwarts at this point."
She mulled over her words for a bit, while Luna kept eagerly scribbling, until she finally spoke up with the conclusion. "My theory was that he somehow performed a ritual to make his books become reality, and offered the revenue as a sacrifice. He wanted the fame and recognition he would have gotten if the books were true, so he sacrificed any and all other gains he got from the books in exchange. It didn't matter that the money went towards charitable means, because what mattered to him, to his personality, was just the sacrifice of giving up on what he had earned through his own work; of any other potential benefit, in order to gain what he truly craved."
"You seem to know quite a bit about rituals," Luna said with a smile.
Crap. Even though the girl had made it sound like a compliment, Iris couldn't help grow suspicious. Was this an interrogation after all? Did the girl have it out for her? Was she yet another conspiracy for her to unravel?
Iris slowly gathered herself, trying not to let too much show on her face, and began to collect a response with just enough truth that hopefully wouldn't raise one too many eyebrows.
"Growing up, my magic was... sort of broken, and I was unable to do any accidental magic at all. At some point I found a way to make things happen by combining objects and symbols we had lying around at our Muggle home. You can imagine my shock when I came to Hogwarts only to learn that what I was doing was not only far from regular magic, but in fact very illegal."
Iris tacitly assumed that it was more or less acceptable for kids to accidentally discover ritualcraft the same way they did accidental magic, even if it didn't seem to be quite as common. She just hoped that she wasn't unknowingly the odd one out again.
Luna just nodded along. "What do you think would have happened if he had done the same with his latest book?"
"Probably the same thing," Iris replied automatically. "None of us would remember anything other than what happened in the book. And there'd be no way to reverse it, because rituals are supposed to be permanent."
Luna took a few more notes, then clicked her pen. And clicked it again.
"Have you befriended any Lethifolds recently?"
Fuck.
Fuck.
She knew! Or at least, she suspected. How could she not? She had hung up the call on her after having just discovered what he might be up to, and barely ten minutes later, Lockhart had been devoured by a Lethifold in the middle of Flourish and Blotts. But she probably didn't have the entire picture. Luna didn't know about the shadows.
She hoped.
"Other than Theo, you mean?"
Luna returned a hesitant smile, and clicked her pen again.
"But I might have to make friends with the one from Diagon Alley if I ever come across it..." she tried for another joke.
Luna's flimsy smile disintegrated completely. "I hope you never do," the girl whispered. "What happened to him... He... I..."
The pen lay forgotten next to the notepad, and her hands were clasped somewhere in her lap. "I... I wanted to expose him. The people should see him for what he was, and he should... he should..."
"He should have paid his due, but not like that. Nobody deserves that. To be just... eaten alive... torn apart... dissolved... into nothingness..."
Luna didn't even know the half of it. But Iris could see now that it might be an even worse idea to tell her anything else. Tracey might have been able to accept the moral ambiguity of what she had been forced to do, but Luna probably wouldn't. The truth would either tear her apart, or it would tear them apart. And she was already way too close for comfort.
"I know..." she whispered, trying to mirror Luna's expression, before repeating with a downcast look, "believe me, I know."
Luna looked up, then gasped as she realized what Iris had been referring to. "Oh, I... Sorry. I... I didn't mean... about Harry, I... wasn't..."
"It's alright," Iris said gently, and reached out a hand across the table.
Luna stared at it as if it was a viper, but then seemingly reconsidered, snatched it up and clung onto it as if it was a lifeline.
"I'm sorry. Sorry I sent that letter, and I... I wrote that... tried to give you hope... even after..."
Luna was now rapidly descending into quiet shuddering sobs, and Iris wanted to somehow reach across the table and hug the girl. But would it be better to just try and keep her distance? Not just to protect her, but also to protect herself?
No! Luna was her friend, and her first friend at that!
But still, if anything, Luna was far too close to the truth for comfort, and much like Dumbledore, she didn't think it was a good idea if she ever found out too much. And Luna was in a much better position than him, with the girl being this close to her.
Iris hated herself for even contemplating it, but even more than with any of her other friends, it sounded like such a great idea to just...
No.
The more she wanted to do it, the worse she felt about it. To just discard her friend because it was convenient. And worse, except for Ginny, she wasn't sure if Luna had any other friends at all.
Just what the hell was she supposed to do with her?
~V~
When Iris had reluctantly explained her plan to Tracey, she had rightfully reacted with skepticism. Admittedly, it was pretty far-fetched, but she was still feeling confident that she was onto something. Of course, the implications if she was correct might have something to do with Tracey's initial disbelief. But in the end, she had of course agreed to help. Iris wasn't sure if she liked the idea. Most of what she had planned she could pull off herself anyway. But she supposed, if she wanted to keep up the ruse of their friendship, this was a sacrifice she needed to make.
Tracey had volunteered to take care of the document, which Iris was thankful for. However, she had also kept prodding her to bring Theo in on the plan as well. But Iris had smacked that down. While they were somewhat getting along ever since their talk on the train, and Tracey had seemingly forgiven him already, Iris hadn't really. Maybe, he could prove himself as the friend he was supposed to be, but for now, she'd keep him at arm's length for a bit more.
Once she finally had an evening free on Friday, Iris had slipped away into the shadows as soon as the sun had set, and was currently making her way through the vast and open nightly expanse that was the Scottish highlands. Of course, she could have had Tracey transfigure what she needed, and that was still the backup plan, but she supposed it would have more meaning if she managed to acquire the genuine thing from somewhere.
Being out here, with no flat surfaces that would look like a mirror, the reflections of the real world just seemed to wrap around all the plants, grass, and rocks, giving the impression as if she were on a hike through the real world. Except that she was skipping through a place where everything had been retextured by some strange psychedelic reflections of what the landscape was supposed to be like. And, of course, she was skipping across entire hills instead of merely small rocks.
It was difficult to make out signs of civilization like this, because counter-intuitively, the illuminated cities would just appear darker than everything else and get drowned out by the rest of the landscape. So Iris found herself wandering aimlessly throughout the hills and valleys for some time, completely at a loss to where she was or how far she had already traveled.
That was, until she closed her eyes. Instead of seeing, she felt. Smell. Taste. It felt... warm. Sweet. Like Lockhart. Except a lot less so.
Almost without thinking, she followed the sensation, as it grew warmer, and she found herself feeling like she was stepping into a cozy bakery during a cold winter night. And she opened her eyes.
Houses, cars, buses, trains. And People. She wondered if they'd taste as good as him.
But also, she realized she had a job to do. So she forced her mind into order, focused, brought the shadows together, and stepped out onto the dark nighttime road.
Fucking hell. Just how long had she been in there? Not good.
Iris gathered herself, trying to get rid of the lingering intrusive thoughts, and instead attempted to focus on her goal. She had something specific in mind, and as with most appropriate symbols, she'd only find it in the Muggle world. But with something like this, she figured quantity would trump quality. At least, as long as they would fit at all. They weren't the main focus, anyway.
But where exactly was she supposed to look? Some place... some place that people were not allowed to go to... Her eyes fell onto the train station at the end of the road, and she quickly made her way down the street and into the dilapidated brick building.
At this time of day, the station was nearly deserted. Only two figures occupied the dimly lit hall. One was a lanky man with a scruffy beard and hollow cheeks and a gray hoodie, nervously tapping his foot. Beside him, a short, stocky man with a shaved head in a black biker jacket leaned over a bench, focusing intently on something. The tall man who somehow reminded her of Petunia shot her a quick look, but then was distracted by his partner. "There we go, hang on..."
There was a sharp crunching sound coming from the metal tray the biker dwarf was hunched over.
"Come on... hurry up..." her bearded aunt whispered urgently.
Iris paused, and edged a bit closer, trying to get a better look. From what she could see, the tray was filled with a small amount of glass shards, or something. The stocky man gave a grunt, before raising the hammer-like metallic object in his hand again, and pressing it down once more, resulting in another crunching sound. Just what the hell were they—
"What are you lookin' at?" the bald man snapped at her, causing Iris to frown.
Right. She had a job to do. It probably wasn't a great idea to needlessly antagonize the local Muggle drug dealers, if that's what this was. Even if they'd make for decent, morally acceptable target practice for some wandless banishing charms, she guessed. Iris pulled the hood of her Muggle sweater a bit lower, quickly taking the final steps towards the exit that would lead onto the train platform. Said platform was, apparently, completely empty. That was just fine with her.
Iris looked left and right, and spotted the one place that she had pegged her hopes on. A small railing in front of the gap next to the end of the platform, that would lead down onto the tracks. Making her way across the platform, she approached the end, and there it was.
A large round red and white sign, mounted to the railing, proclaiming one of the most universal messages with the help of a stick figure. Yeah, it was a long shot. It was ridiculous to even think something like that could work. But she had faced worse odds. She had to do something to keep her friends safe. But more importantly, this was the only thing she had managed to come up with that might stand a chance at possibly preventing another Germany.
Iris checked the back, and noticed that it was bolted to the rail with the use of some large metallic screws. A quick wandless Alohomora made short work of those, and she picked up the surprisingly light sign, and slowly forced it into her magical backpack. With a nod, she made her way across the tracks towards the second platform and repeated the process.
Alright, two were good, but four would be even better... And a glance all the way across the platform revealed exactly what she needed on the very other end of both tracks.
Two more silent flashes of yellow light, and soon, she was shoving the fourth and final metallic sign into the confines of her bag.
As she slung her bag over her shoulder, running footsteps echoed behind her. Iris spun around to see bearded Petunia approaching her, his gray hoodie pulled over his head, eyes wide and pupils dilated. His hands trembled as he pulled out a knife, the blade glinting under the flickering platform lights. He fumbled with it for a moment, before sticking it in her face, with Iris' back against the wall.
"Hand over the bag," he demanded, voice shaky. "N-Now!"
Iris sighed, her expression calm despite the threat. "You don't want to do this," she said softly.
"Shut up! Give it here!" he yelled, waving the knife erratically.
Iris lit up her fingers in a soft green, and with a subtle flick, the knife slipped his shaky grasp and began to float. The man's eyes widened in terror as the blade hovered between them.
"What the—" he stammered, stumbling backward.
"Leave. Now," Iris warned, her eyes fixed on him.
Street-thug-Petunia's gaze darted between the knife, her, and the bag for a few seconds, his fingers twitching, as he hastily took a step back, but the knife steadily followed.
"Shit. Shit. Shit!" he cursed, and whirled around to make his getaway, only to almost collide with the biker dwarf behind him. He stumbled to the side, revealing the short bald man, eyes wide, pure disbelief and terror written across his face, and clutching that silvery object in shaky hands.
A deafening crack echoed through the station. What the— Oh fuck that— Pain. Unbelievable pain exploded in Iris's side after only a second of disbelief. It spread like icy cold honey pouring over her body, a raw burning sensation taking over everything. The knife clattered forgotten down onto the asphalt. Iris collapsed to her knees, then down onto her hands. Her vision blurred as she saw the bald man lowering the metallic object—the gun—smoke still curling from the barrel.
"Fuck. Fuck! Wha' bloody kinda voodoo shit was that?" the lanky man yelled to his partner, who stood frozen in shock.
He stared down at the gun, as if it was about to explode in his hands. "Shit! I'm outta here. Fuck this crazy cunt!" he yelled, turned and took off into the night. The lanky man was hot on his heels, Iris' bag long since forgotten, still draped over her shoulder.
Iris' hands lost their support, and she hit the asphalt with a splat, her cheek smacking into something liquid, and warm. Darkness crept into Iris's vision as she struggled to stay conscious. This… this wasn't good. She needed... needed to...
Everything grew darker and darker, the shadows stretching longer, taller, taking over everything. They almost seemed to move, as it became harder and harder to breathe. The last specks of light were drowned out and she finally found herself falling.