2 | CONFESSIONS° HARRY POTTER

9 | KREACHER'S TALE

ACT FIVE, loss
CHAPTER NINE, kreacher's tale

      Harry woke early the next morning to something pressing against his chest. When he looked down he saw the top of Iris's head, her body rising and falling steadily as she slept. They were wrapped in separate sleeping bags on the drawing room floor, and he did recall them falling asleep last night rather close togethe. He guessed that, in her sleep, Iris had put her head on top of him. He had heard her crying softly in her sleep nearly all night long. Hermione had told him last night when she was giving him his toothbrush in the bathroom to expect that. She told him that Iris had been doing it all summer and that Hermione didn't think she even realized it. He draped his arm around her, feeling a desperate need to protect her and hold her close to him.

A patch of sky was visible between the heavy curtains: It was the cool, clear blue of watered ink, somewhere between night and dawn, and everything was quiet except for Ron and Hermione's slow, deep breathing. Harry glanced over at the dark shapes they made on the floor beside him and Iris. Ron had had a fit of gallantry and insisted that Hermione sleep on the cushions from the sofa, so that her silhouette was raised above his. Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron's. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands.

He looked up at the shadowy ceiling, the cobwebbed chandelier. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he had been standing in the sunlight at the entrance to the marquee, waiting to show in wedding guests and dancing the night away with a smiling Iris. It seemed a lifetime away. What was going to happen now? He lay on the floor and he thought of the Horcruxes, of the daunting, complex mission Dumbledore had left him . . . . Dumbledore . . .

He glanced up when he saw something crawl out of Iris's handbag. It was a beetle that slowly morphed into a snake, and he knew that it was Veles. Harry didn't entirely understand what Veles was or how Iris found him, and he knew with absolute certainty that there was more to the story with the shapeshifting creature. He knew that there was something Iris wasn't telling him (and, knowing her, probably wasn't telling anybody) but he wanted to wait until she came to him with whatever had been plaguing her mind. He had faith that she would come to him eventually and he wouldn't push her until she was ready.

Iris stirred on his chest and cracked her eyes open, adjusting to the light. Harry closed his eyes as she lifted her head and felt his arm around her and realized that she was lying on his chest. She looked up at him and he pretended to wake up just then. Iris sent him a sheepish smile and sat all the way up in her sleeping bag, shooting a glance over at Ron and Hermione.

She caught sight of Veles slithering out of sight and pointed upstairs. She and Harry got out of their bags and walked up the staircase. Iris noticed Phineas Nigellus's portrait was empty. He was obviously spending time in Dumbledore's office.

"Have you been here since he died?" asked Harry quietly from behind her as she led him to the topmost landing.

"No." said Iris. "Mum never wanted to come here after she gathered everything she wanted of his things."

Iris stopped in front of two doors, the one facing them labeled: SIRIUS.

"I've never been inside here before." said Harry.

"Really?" asked Iris, glancing back at him with a raised brow. "I think you'll quite like it."

She turned back around and pushed the door open, holding her wand to cast the light as widely as possible. The room was spacious and must once have been handsome. There was a large bed with a carved wooden headboard, a tall window obscured by long velvet curtains, and a chandelier thickly coated in dust with candle stubs still resting in its sockets, solid wax hanging in frostlike drips. A fine film of dust covered the pictures on the walls and the bed's headboard; a spider's web stretched between the chandelier and the top of the large wooden wardrobe, and as they moved deeper into the room, she heard a scurrying of disturbed mice.