Chapter 18 - Forgiveness

Tracey's eyes scanned over the document that her mum had sent her back. This had to be the single most Muggle thing in the entire castle. It was made of blank white paper, printed with black ink. It had a small spreadsheet. It had a staple. It even had a bloody stamp. And it spent more time citing sections of law than actually spelling out its contents. And most importantly, it had several blank spaces, where Iris would need to fill in the required information.

Tracey didn't pretend to know much about rituals, really. But she was also pretty sure that Iris had mentioned that rituals couldn't understand written words. So what the hell was the point of all this, then?

But trying to get Iris to explain what went on in her mind at times like these was one surefire way to experiencing the pleasures of a Confundus, all without the help of any magic. Not that Iris didn't explain, in fact, quite the opposite.

"In essence, the content doesn't matter all that much, what's important is that it is genuine. Basically, as close to the real thing as possible, if not the real thing outright. I'll make sure the intent doesn't get sidetracked, but it's still the main focus, we gotta do this right. Of course, there's a lot of wiggle room for interpretation, but if my assumptions about his Name are correct, I can use that to try and guide the outcome to what we need. So really, appearance is what matters. You following?"

And she had smiled, and nodded. "Yup. Just get the genuine thing."

Tracey had, in fact, not followed. Unless it was one of the rarer occasions where she managed to keep up all the way, at some point most people would inevitably tap out and just nod along, waiting for the lecture to be over in hopes of not appearing too stupid. Herself very much included. But Iris had sounded like she knew what she was doing, so the only way to make sure was to trust her. "Are you sure it's gonna work?"

"It's the best shot we have. I mean, technically, it really shouldn't work. But I have a feeling it might, if I do manage to write it."

Impossible, challenging or trivial sort of traded places when it came to her best friend. She just could never be quite sure which way around. Tracey sighed again. As far as Iris' insane plans went, this one was... well, insane was putting it lightly. But at least, all the preparations should be simple enough, and they could always just call it off before it would even happen.

Some motion from the corner of her vision caught her attention, and Tracey looked up from the bed. There was a— Oh. Iris was back.

A distorted mess of blackness, long limbs, and at the top a mass of shadows that somehow looked like a face the longer she stared at it. She'd never really gotten used to seeing that, but she still felt relief fill her all the same. Every time Tracey had voiced her worries regarding the shadow realm, Iris had brushed it off due to both being far too useful, and having mostly been safe so far. At least to her, she guessed.

But something was off. The shadows started to grow far too slowly. Usually, she'd have plopped down on her bed by this point, but she'd been staring at the eldritch being for over ten seconds flat, and it was still just standing there, slowly growing darker. And was... was that a hole?! What the—

The shadows shivered, and suddenly, the silhouette of a girl resolved from the darkness, and came tumbling forward, only to hit the ground with a dull thud.

"Iris?!"

Tracey jumped to her feet as panic shot through her. Then, her blood turned to ice as she spotted the red. A puddle was already starting to form around her, and Iris was barely moving.

"T—t... Trunk..." came a weak groan. "T-ther-mos..."

Iris' head tilted to the side and became still, as the puddle of blood slowly grew to enclose her face, and began to soak the hair that shared its color.

Tracey couldn't think. This couldn't be happening. She had to... had to get Madam Pomfrey! Someone! She needed help! But she couldn't. Iris was hurt. She was dying. She didn't have time until Tracey could find a teacher. She had to... had to—

Her eyes landed on Iris' trunk, and the words flashed through her mind again. A thermos? Did she have a thermos in there? How would that help?

Like a woman possessed, Tracey dashed across the room and tore open her trunk, she rummaged fruitlessly for a second, before clutching onto a metal cylinder and pulling the canister from the depths of the trunk.

Tracey grabbed the metallic canister, dashed over to the unmoving form of her best friend, unscrewed the lid, and... what the hell was she supposed to... she couldn't... what even was this?

Tracey glanced down, peered into the small thermos can, and she could make out a softly glimmering green liquid inside it. It seemed to swirl by itself, and emit tiny glowing wisps of green and yellow light, that rose from the surface, only to drop right back down into the depths, almost like...

The potion... The potion she had brewed with Hermione! The Wiggenweld they had made in Snape's class! Had she saved some of that? They usually only filled a vial and discarded the rest, but... No matter. This was all she had. It had to work!

Tracey grabbed her body, and her fingers sunk into the dark fabric of the sleeve of her hoodie with a sickening, warm squish. It was all wet, drenched in— in rainwater. Warm, red rainwater. All over her hands. Tracey fought back the urge to throw up, and strained with all her might to roll her over onto her back. Her black muggle sweater was completely soaked, as were her pants. Everything was covered in—

"No! You can't do this!" Tracey cried.

She lifted the thermos, her hands shaking, almost dropped the metal canister, then brought it up to Iris' blood-stained lips, and tilted it over. The green liquid poured over her mouth, her nose, with barely anything ending up inside it. Wringing her hands in desperation, Tracey reached out to pull her mouth further open, and repeated the process. This resulted in a wet cough, ejecting half the potion back from her airways, all over her face.

No... how was she supposed to... she couldn't... wait, could that work? Tracey tore open the sweater, pulled her t-shirt up, and her breath caught. Was that... was that from a gun?! Just what the hell had she—

Stop! She had to do something, there was no time! Tracey raised the thermos once more, and began pouring the bright green potion all across the small circular wound in Iris' chest. She had no idea if the potion could work like that, but it was either this or... Right, if she couldn't get her to swallow, better this stuff in her lungs than her blo—

Tracey shook her head violently, then poured another small amount of liquid into her mouth, then gently closed it and having no idea what to do next, began to prod and massage her throat, hoping to get her to swallow.

"Come on! Iris, please... don't do this! You gotta... you gotta drink the potion!"

Another small cough, then her heart leapt into her throat as she saw the girl swallow. Barely a second later, her body began emitting a faint green glow, which slowly spread, then began to gather around her chest.

Slowly, ever so slowly the skin began to move; the wound began to close. Iris' body started to convulse, again, and again. In a stroke of insight, Tracey realized what was about to happen, grabbed her friend with shaking limbs, and strained with all her might to lift her up and turn her over onto the side.

She heaved, her body convulsed once more, then a sickening torrent of blood-red liquid was expelled from her mouth, all over Tracey's robes. Her eyes fluttered for a moment, then she sagged again.

"No! Iris! Stay with me!" Tracey was teetering, she grabbed the thermos once more, and repeated the process, resulting in yet another wave of red sick all over her, followed by a series of wet coughs. Finally, her eyes came open a sliver.

"T-Tracey?" a whisper, so weak and frail, so wrong from her best friend's lips. It was like first year all over again. Except so much worse.

The wound in her left rib cage, right below her chest, glowed one final time before closing up for good, leaving behind a dark scar. A weak, shaky hand came up, and felt around her ribcage, until Iris' fingers slipped over the wound and she gasped.

A second of silence, until suddenly, her fingers lit up in a green light, which began to sink into her skin, until it was glowing from somewhere inside of her.

"P-potion," her friend croaked.

Tracey scrambled to obey. She held out the thermos once more to her, and this time, Iris began to greedily swallow down large gulps, until the entire thing was empty. Her whole body began to glow once more, and the similar glow inside her chest intensified.

For several, painfully long seconds, Tracey just stared at her best friend, laying there in a bright green glow, covered by liters of her own blood, and had no idea what to think.

The only sound was the deep, ragged breathing of her friend, and the slow, arrhythmic dripping of her own blood from her drenched clothing.

The glow slowly began to fade, further, and further, until it winked out entirely, and Iris collapsed back down onto her back. She was breathing again. And she was still awake. Tracey just stared, unsure what to do, or say. She watched as Iris idly trailed her finger over the darkened skin under her chest. That must have gone through her liver, probably... Could Wiggenweld fix something like that? She knew the potion could help with most of all mundane injuries, but in return, it would always leave behind a scar. Some sort of remnant. She just hoped that it was only an external one.

~V~

Somehow, Iris decided, becoming a Lethifold didn't seem quite as horrible anymore. Yeah, she guessed if she had stayed much longer, she might have actually begun snacking on the townsfolk. But at least, there would be no pain, no blood, no petrifying fear of death. And most importantly, she wouldn't have to sit here, with Tracey staring at her as if she were about to keel over the moment she looked away.

That wasn't even getting into what still awaited her next. It was already hard enough to try and keep them from getting involved too much, without cutting them off entirely. This time, Tracey wouldn't have any of her bullshit. Part of her craved that dressing down, just as much as another part of her still wanted to know what the girl tasted like.

"Iris?"

Really, in truth, she just wanted to collapse on the spot and sleep for the rest of the weekend until the funeral.

"...Iris? Are you...?"

"I'm fine..." she groaned, heaving herself to a sitting position, her body still protesting the motion.

"You're... you're... and I'm the bloody Queen! What the hell happened?!" Tracey almost screeched.

"It's... a long story."

"Don't give me that crap! You got shot! You'd be dead if you hadn't saved some of the Wiggenweld we brewed last year!"

Tracey had a point there, she guessed. So long as the injuries weren't of a magical nature, the potion could fix pretty much anything. Cuts, bruises, stab wounds, broken bones... so long as there weren't any appendages missing or any foreign objects still stuck within the body, a Wiggenweld Potion—if brewed by the drinker themselves—would restore you to full health. All it would leave behind was a scar. A remnant, a reminder, which could never be healed.

Of course, if the potion hadn't been brewed by her, it would have taken a lot longer and a lot more applications, by which point she would have already long since succumbed to blood loss. That, or worse, if she'd made a mistake somewhere in the brewing process. But she hadn't noticed any side effects so far, other than the bullet-sized scar now adorning her skin right underneath her chest. And probably a similar one on her back, where the bullet had luckily pierced through. If it had still been stuck inside her body, this could have backfired spectacularly.

It probably hadn't been necessary to down her entire thermos, but in her defense, she hadn't been able to think very far past the not dying part at that moment. But now her stash was depleted. And she really wasn't looking forward to procuring another Essence of Forgiveness.

"There were some... complications."

"No shit!? What the hell happened?"

Tracey really wasn't about to let this slide, was she? Would it be better to just— No, no no no NO. Get a grip, Iris. If she started thinking along those lines, she might as well just try and memory charm herself instead.

She'd just have to sit down and face the music.

"There was this junkie... tried to mug me with a knife at the train station. And well... I disarmed him, tried to scare him off, but I didn't notice his friend until it was too late... and he had a gun."

"And... you couldn't, I mean... you didn't..." Tracey whispered, seemingly as unwilling or unable to believe that Iris had been brought down to her lowest point yet by something as mundane as that.

She felt like she was in her first week of Hogwarts all over again. Useless, powerless, weak. She hadn't seen it coming at all, and worse, even if she had, even after thinking about nothing but that for ages now, she couldn't come up with a way to prevent that from happening again. Sure, she guessed, if she had seen him in time, she could have tried to disarm him, but that could have still run the risk of setting the gun off, and would also only work with only one gun at a time.

But much more painful was the renewed realization of her glaring weakness. She still couldn't cast Protego. And if her progress was any indication, she'd never be able to, either. And Reiecto could only reflect magic. She couldn't conjure or transfigure any sort of protections either. And dodging was even less of an option. She was completely and utterly defenseless against something this stupidly simple and yet terrifying. To someone like her, it was basically a Killing Curse with zero cast time.

Her only weakness. Fucking bullets.

A morbid chuckle escaped her lips. Well, not her only one, but still.

"You think this is funny?!" Tracey hissed.

Iris gave a wry smile. "Little bit..."

"You almost died, for Merlin's sake! Could you take this seriously?"

Iris paused, and her expression fell. "Would you prefer I start freaking out? Because I'm basically Mandrake fertilizer as soon as some two-bit criminal pulls out a piece of metal that fits in a fucking pocket?"

"You and everyone else. That's not the issue!"

"You mean me and all the other Muggles?" Iris said flatly. "Dumbledore wouldn't. Susan wouldn't. You wouldn't. Hell, even Neville. An actual wizard would have just cast Protego."

Tracey smacked her hands down on her own thighs and exclaimed. "Exactly my point, you idiot!"

She... Crap. She really had walked right into that one.

"This happened because you keep doing everything by yourself!"

Iris hated that Tracey was right. She couldn't exactly argue that it would be better to do these things alone when taking along literally any of her friends might have made the whole thing a non-issue.

Iris was about to argue that Tracey had always been wary of traveling by shadow realm, but the argument died on her lips from how weak it was.

Instead, she sighed. "I... you're right."

Tracey blinked, not having expected her to just agree.

"I was being an idiot, and I should have asked someone to come along. I should have asked you to come along."

"...Aaand?" Tracey gave her a raised eyebrow.

"And... I promise I'll take someone with me next time?" Iris tried.

"You'd better," Tracey glared.

Iris let out a long sigh, and kept staring at Tracey for some time, unsure what else to say.

"...How are you feeling, really?" Tracey finally mumbled with concern in her voice.

"Hungry," Iris replied with a wry smile.

That earned a small smile from her best friend. "Good to have you back."

And she found herself engulfed in a warm, sweet hug.

Yeah. If only it was the kind of hunger that her usual seconds or thirds could fix.

~V~

And indeed, thirds hadn't, but apparently, fourths had.

Iris had pretty much conked out and fallen asleep on the spot, except not really. Because that would have actually been refreshing. Instead, she had been stuck in a soupy haze, a swirling mist of darkness, fog, apathy and above all else, hunger. When she had finally come back to herself, it was already the evening of the next day. Her mind was still in no state to even so much as attempt anything related to cognitive higher functions at this point, but she had managed to drag herself down to the Great Hall for dinner, which had finally managed to dampen that deep, empty pull inside her stomach somewhat. At least, she was finally able to think again now that she was making her way back to the common room. Which was, of course, when she realized that she was almost out of time. She hadn't even really gotten started on what she had planned to do, and now she only had one night to set her plan into motion, so there would be no second attempt. She'd just have to hope that everything she had gathered would work out for what she had in mind.

Iris made her way past Professor Snape, who was currently discussing something with the first-years in a corner of the common room, well, as much as this place even had corners to begin with. In the back she found Theo lounging in their usual spot—or rather, what used to be their usual spot—and the sight brought a small, nostalgic smile to her face. She hesitantly made her way over, trying to keep her expression as casual as possible, and plopped down in her usual seat, with Tracey following suit.

Theo looked up from his book, gave her a quick look, then his eyes flicked over to Tracey, and he frowned. Goddamn Tracey and her non-existent poker-face.

"What happened?" he simply asked.

"Oh, you know, nothing much. Iris got shot and died in our dorm room, just the usual Friday."

Okay... they really had been spending way too much time with the snarky git. Also, Iris would have really preferred if Tracey had kept that little disaster to herself. Tracey was apparently having none of it.

Theo blinked, then blinked again. Finally he sighed. "Just what will it take, Iris?"

She gave him a hesitant look. "What... will it take?" she replied hesitantly.

"What will it take for you to trust us? What will it take to get it into your skull that we are your friends? To get you to think before you act? I know you can, you just never do," Theo said flatly.

Iris swallowed.

Harsh.

But true.

Merlin, even her own mind had it out for her now?

"I don't know what it will take in the end, but I've got an idea where to start," Tracey interjected.

"Oh? Let's hear it, then," Theo replied, curiosity peaked.

"Well, you..." she said, turning to point at Iris, "really need to stop doing things by yourself. You need all the help you can get, whether you like it or not. And you," she turned her head towards Theo, "really haven't made it easy to trust you lately. But you're at least trying, in your own twisted way. So... here's the deal."

Tracey reached into Iris' bookbag before Iris could stop her, and withdrew a very familiar chain, which she had taken off for her trip to the muggle world.

"You just lost your safety net. Which means, you need to brew another batch of Wiggenweld. And one of the main ingredients... is sitting right there."

Iris froze, as the mirror dodecahedron was placed in her hands, and she stared at the git sitting across from her, who now looked almost as startled as herself. Merlin damn it. She wasn't ready! Well, she... she really did miss the snarky git, but also, she really hadn't forgiven him for what he... But... Ugh... she guessed that was the point.

Tracey. Look at her, finally letting out her Slytherin side. Iris would have felt proud, if it hadn't trapped her so thoroughly on the spot with no way out. It was so unfair! He'd get away with a free pass, just because she needed the potion, in case something happened again, even with what he—

But had what he had done even been so different from what she was doing right now?

Great. Now she was a bloody hypocrite as well.

Iris sighed, and met Theo's eyes. "You're right. If you've put up with me after all this, the least I could do is return the favor. I know why you did what you did, I know it was irrational, and I was still mad. But I guess moving past things like that doesn't happen on its own. So fine. Tracey was right, I do need to make an effort as well."

Theo had enough tact to not interrupt with any of his usual remarks, so she forged onwards.

"You did what you had to, and even if you could have done better, I do realize you're sorry. And even if it hurt Tracey, even if it hurt me, I'm willing to forgive you..."

Iris paused, before giving him a small smile. "If..." she paused, shot a look at Tracey, and returned to pin Theo once more, "you say it."

Theo blinked. "I did say—"

"Like you mean it. None of the sarcasm, or explanations. No roundabout phrasing, or weird formality. Just a simple, quick apology, and nothing more. I think Tracey deserves that."

She could almost see all the possible snarky replies, the frowns, the sarcastic deflections running through his mind. Theo really wasn't the best when it came to stuff like this.

But she guessed she was one to talk. She did understand the concept well enough, but as soon as it came to herself...

Theo nodded. "I'm sorry."

Iris returned a small smile. "Then I forgive you."

And there it was. A faint shimmer of blue, emanating from the center of her mirror trap, reflecting infinitely in all directions. Was that really all there had been to it? No roundabout phrasing, no lingering attached conditions, just a genuine apology, and genuine Forgiveness.

If only it would always be that easy.

"Looks like the band is back together again," commented a snarky voice, making Iris look up and frown.

Since their last confrontation, Malfoy had apparently ceased any attempts to try to get one over on her physically or magically. To be fair, if half the house hadn't worked, she'd be hard pressed for ideas that would, too. Instead, however, he had simply doubled down on attacks of a verbal nature. And he had been careful to only do so while there were teachers close enough to intervene, if she'd have decided to turn their verbal spar into a magical one. And also, seemingly, he mostly did it when he was around—

"A band of misfits, if there ever was one," another voice joined in.

Iris turned her gaze and met the blue eyes of the girl whose mind she had turned into Swiss cheese.

"Draco keeps telling me the most ridiculous things about you," she continued with as much haughtiness as a firstie could manage, no matter how tall her heels and heavy her eye-liner.

"Potter," she began, turning her gaze at Iris, "the half-blood who made it all the way from Squib to loose cannon. The girl who's so out of touch with reality that she thought she could have my Draco to herself..."

The blonde made a tut-tut noise, wagging her finger with a cheeky grin, as if the mere thought was ridiculous. Which it was. She had never thought of Draco like that... Had she?

"One day, you're strutting around the common room, having tricked everyone into being afraid of a mere nobody, and the next you're abducted by the Heir of Slytherin, reduced to nothing but another damsel in distress for Gilderoy Lockhart to rescue."

The younger Greengrass shrugged, and gave her a grin. "Karmic justice, if there ever was such a thing."

Iris gritted her teeth, but held her tongue. She knew next to nothing about the girl, so she didn't have any valid comebacks to that. And letting this escalate wouldn't do her any good either. Snape was still there, at the other side of the common room, standing next to one of the couches which was pinned to what appeared to be the side wall from her perspective. Whatever she did, if Snape looked up at the wrong time, which he definitely would, given her luck...

"Then there's you," the girl continued, as if she had prepared a whole speech. "The blood-traitor, who commemorated his father being arrested by betraying everything that his family had achieved over decades, all before his armchair had even grown cold. And the worst part about it, is that you still think you are doing what is best for your family."

She paused, and then gave him a curious look. "How's your mother doing, by the way?"

Iris could almost hear the mask on Theo's face crack for a second, and she reflexively reached out a hand towards his shoulder, but luckily the boy seemed to have more self-control than that. Iris really didn't like this. This girl had an even sharper tongue than her sister, and she had barely just started her first year...

"And finally, there's the loser," she added, suddenly with childish glee.

"Because that's all you ever do, isn't it?" she said with a giggle, her grin growing, as she leaned over the sofa behind Theo to stare down Tracey.

"You lost your first friend, who's been with you through all of your childhood, and now wants nothing to do with you, no matter how hard you try..." the blonde began to tick points off her fingers.

"You lost your dignity; lost any standing that your father's name would have granted you, when you decided to join up with the nutcase over there instead..."

Iris could already feel the magic, the light sizzling beneath her skin, with the shadows not far behind. But she had to keep control. Words couldn't hurt as much as the real thing. And she wouldn't let Tracey lose her too, if Iris got expelled for whatever she was liable to do here.

"You lost your only other friend—discarded without a second thought—when he finally decided to see reason. Well, at least, while his father was still around..."

Tracey was looking smaller and smaller with each word, and still lacking any valid verbal comeback, Iris was seriously pondering the benefits of just facing whatever consequences Snape would come up with. But the blonde wasn't done.

"And finally," Iris became deadly still, as she realized where the younger Greengrass was going with this. "You... lost your first and only love...not even a week after you had your first kiss. And neither Gilderoy Lockhart, nor your oh-so-powerful friend over there could save him. Her very own brother, gone. As soon as he got involved with you."

"Petrificus Totalus," came a sharp whisper from her left, and Iris found her body frozen in place against her will. Not by any external force, her limbs simply refused to obey her will, not allowing her to move so much as an inch.

Her eyes, which was the only part of her body that remained unaffected, flicked over to meet Theo's with a burning rage inside them.

How dare he?

That bitch had just... she needed to... she deserved to—

"Good boy," the blonde simpered, without even so much as a glance at either Theo or Iris.

"You do realize you're playing with fire here?" Theo stated quietly, with a hint of something entering his voice.

"I am playing..." the younger Greengrass said nonchalantly, while throwing a look over her shoulder towards where Snape still loomed on the wall, "with nothing."

Iris did her best to try and incinerate the girl with her glare alone, yet sadly, she'd need to at least summon her orb to do that. And that, Snape would definitely notice. He really seemed to make a habit of hanging around in her vicinity at the most inopportune of times recently. But she was half-way tempted to just damn the consequences and do it anyway.

Her burning gaze flicked over at Theo, promising painful retribution if he didn't let her go, but it quickly evaporated when she noticed Tracey next to him, who looked like she was trying to hold back tears.

"I don't play; I win," she declared with a smug look, and slung an arm around Malfoy. "And unlike you, I get to keep the real thing, instead of just... Accio keepsake."

Tracey's eyes widened as her bag popped open by itself, and slowly a simple, gray quill came floating out. She tried to snatch it out of the air, but it slipped her grasp, and sailed into the blonde witch's hand.

"What's this? Was that Potter's?" the girl crowed with a growing smirk.

Alright, screw the consequences. Iris focused and tried to summon her orb. Which, apparently, wasn't as easy as expected. She had gotten so used to just doing the hand-motion, that without it, she was thrown off just enough that it simply fizzled right back into nothingness.

Her glare redoubled at Theo, but he just gave her a stony expression, his wand never leaving Iris. Merlin damn it all to hell! She wouldn't just sit here and let this girl—

"I wonder... we aren't supposed to be learning elemental spells until third year, but maybe I should try to get some early practice in? What do you say, Draco?"

Iris had almost forgotten that he was there. He'd at some point gone from his usual superior smirk to looking like he'd rather be anywhere else right now.

"Could you show me how it's done?" she said, trying to give Malfoy a puppy-dog look. Trying and failing.

"Uhm... I don't think that..."

"You're right, better try it myself first!" she declared cheerfully.

She held the quill out in front of her, raised her wand, and—

"What do you think you are doing?" a new voice pierced the oppressive silence.

"Stay out of this," the younger Greengrass snapped, her mask slipping as she noticed the girl approaching.

"No, I don't think I will," the older Greengrass declared in her usual cold and detached tone.

"You are a disgrace to our House, sister. You are acting beneath your station," the—screw it—Daphne said with a slight frown.

Astoria's face twisted with fury. "You are the disgrace! And don't you act like you ever cared about the House to begin with! You don't have the right!"

Daphne's expression hardened. "You're a petulant child dedicated to ruining our family's name. I won't ask again. Return the quill. Apologize."

"I will do nothing of—"

"You will," whispered Daphne, sending a cold shiver down Iris' spine as she noticed the faint shimmer of blue.

That distinct shade of Indigo.

"...return it, and you will apologize," Daphne reiterated firmly, her voice projecting an unspoken threat for the benefit of everyone else listening, but Iris knew the truth.

"...Fine," growled Astoria, whirled on the spot, and approached Tracey. "I'm sorry for what I said. Here's your quill."

She handed the keepsake back to a speechless Tracey, whirled around and stalked away, up one of the walls leading to the new first-years girls dorm.

Finally, Iris felt the Full Body-Bind Curse dissipate. She gathered herself, and then her bearings. Theo gave her a hesitant look, as if unsure if she would lash out at him, which she wasn't even herself sure about, as screwed up as that was. Malfoy still held that same expression, and quickly made it into reality by deciding that he really would rather be anywhere else right now. Tracey was... Iris couldn't really parse her expression. Obviously, what Astoria had said had cut deeply into her best friend, much like it had with Iris. But there was also a sense of... hopefulness? A sense of longing as she stared at— Oh. Oh no.

Gr— Daphne. Merlin, this would get confusing fast.

Iris wasn't sure what to think about that. Did she really want her best friend to reunite her childhood friendship with a psychopath like Daphne? After what she'd just done? The two of them were sisters, for Merlin's sake! And also... Had she done it for her? For Tracey? For her family? Or just as a part of some greater scheme? Or had she... done it just to prove that she could? To prove to Iris that she could do this to anyone in the middle of their common room, and especially to her friends?

As if one of them hadn't been complicated enough; she now had two Greengrass sisters making her life a confusing mess. Ugh. She really should have just become a Lethifold instead.

~V~

Iris slammed the door to her dorm room gritting her teeth, and made a beeline for her trunk. If that little gremlin thought she could just get away with pulling some shit like that and then pissing off, she was sorely mistaken. Just one minor snag. Astoria had slunk away to her room, and hadn't shown her face ever since. And since the Slytherin common room didn't obey any known laws of physics, Iris had no idea where exactly her room was, or how to get there. But she had a plan for that.

Iris dashed over to her trunk, tossed it open and began rummaging through. The only problem left was the slight issue that she couldn't use it herself. But she'd just have to badger Tracey into unlocking it for her, she guessed. Her hands finally found the piece of parchment and pulled it from her bag triumphantly. Perfect. Now the bitch was going dow—

Wait, what?

Iris stared down at the Marauders Map, because that's what was obviously lying before her. But she was sure the map had been cleared last time she had checked it at home... And nobody else would know how to unlock it, right? Well, Tracey would, but she hadn't even returned yet... Had Tracey been secretly using her map for something?

Or had someone been in her dorm?

Reaching a hesitant hand, she unfolded it in the middle, and revealed it showing a certain, familiar room. At the center of which stood a single pair of footsteps, labeled Iris Lily Potter.

The only other visible names were Daphne Greengrass and Lily Moon, in the room next to her on the edge of the parchment. Iris looked at the map warily, before she noticed something else. From the edge, a line extended, growing further and further, drowning out the two names in the room next to hers, and slowly covering her entire room as well in what looked like a gigantic speech bubble, the tip pointing to some place within the folded parts of the map.

When it had taken up almost the entire room, with only her own name still marked at the bottom, the bubble slowly began to fill in, bearing a foreboding message of only two words.

Hello Iris.