𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒮𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃
That blue-white fire sat so undisturbed. No movement in the air at that late hour to stir it. So calm that it could have been a painting; no fire could ever be that controlled. But it was, casting its faint blue glow into the void that otherwise would have been that night... the enchanted ceiling lost to the thick, stormy clouds that readied for the approaching late night storm.
The fire did a poor job at lighting the room; the faint silver emitting off the ring on the ground had done a poorer job... the shadows in the room were deep... the furthest corners could have housed any horror that night. Still, as one adjusted to the dark, one could see The Great Hall take shape.
The tables were replaced with wooden bleachers, lining the two side walls to provide easy viewing for the spectacle that watching that blue fire would become come morning. The teacher's table went untouched, but just before it was a table that nearly spanned the whole width of the hall, on it serving platers and pitchers... one side was a table filled with plates and goblets and cutlery to grab... a buffet set up. It wouldn't be a day for balanced meals but a special occasion as students lingered around all day.
The Great Hall was readied the moment everyone had left for bed, waiting for its most trafficked day. And it had already had two visitors that night, one a figure that stirred the fire... the other a shadow that had yet to leave.
That blue-white fire didn't reach far... but it did brush at the figure sitting hunched over centered on the bleachers. A blue glow reflected in their dark eyes, sitting just as still, just as undisturbed as the fire they watched... could have been a painting.
But, unlike the fire, they were far from calm. The dark circles sitting just beneath those eyes... the deep frown sitting on their lips... the hand clenched so tightly around a necklace it really should have shattered.
It should have been a painting. The emptiness of the room, sitting in that strange silence just before a storm. A fire casting the faintest of glows on a ghost of a figure. A figure that could only be seen in small amounts, eyes a void as they reflected that fire, eyes such a juxtaposition to every other hint of what they were feeling.
And as the storm began to beat away at the castle, the painting would hold still. Neither the shadow nor fire made any move.
Just dark eyes reflecting that motionless flame.
.
.
.
The flame reflecting in Iris's eyes flickered.
She almost blinked back to life, everything happening at once. Back straightening out, frown fading as her face fixed to something more neutral, hand dropping from where it clasped around that moon-like pendant.
The only thing that couldn't be changed were the dark circles under her eyes... faint... but there.
She looked down, catching the questioning expression on Theodore's face... but he never asked. By the way, she looked as if she hadn't slept and was still neatly dressed in her clothes from the day before... the answer to his unasked question was quite obvious.
Iris had been in the Great Hall just about the entire night.
He didn't say anything. Just turned and walked over to the buffet table, leaving Iris to really come back. Taking in the whole hall.
The enchanted ceiling showed a bright blue sky, a few grey clouds swirling but calm for the early morning. The candles and torches had been lit, that blue fire nothing more than a cool feature in the light of the room. A few students lingered around, eating and talking amongst themselves, discussing their theories on who would be entering their names.
It was all so normal, calm. Just the early birds of Hogwarts starting off their Saturday morning in peace.
Iris didn't really seem to find that peace as her attention locked on one pair. A Beauxbatons pair, a girl and a boy. Her strawberry blonde hair was so neatly pinned back, her smile so bright as she laughed at something the boy said... and he was just so obviously in love with that look in his eyes, nervously smiling down to his plate.
But as sweet as it was, that wasn't really what Iris seemed to care about as she stared them down. Dragging her wand from her boot, Iris swished it vaguely toward the buffet table...
Nothing happened, and no one reacted... well, except for Theodore, who looked curiously around, and of course, the boy and girl who snapped their heads over to the sound of a faint pop. To those around them, it was as if their morning had gone without any strange disruptions.
Iris tore her eyes away rather quickly after that, stuffing her necklace back into her shirt; she stood, stretching out her back before taking slow steps down the bleachers. Taking little notice of Theodore, she just started walking, making a slow leave from The Great Hall. Such a pace allowed him to quickly catch up, his questioning looks back as he carefully held his plate and goblet of juice.
But again, he didn't ask, just following with his breakfast. Making quick notice of just where they were going, his question seemed to have been answered again.
And when they entered the near-empty Slytherin Common Room, they broke apart. Theodore took a table to settle into his meal... and Iris silently disappeared to her dorm room.
~~~~~~
She didn't take long, slipping back out of her dorm just as silently as she had entered, letting her roommates spend their Saturday sleeping in. Back in the common room, she would find Theodore just where she had left him, but with one something new... Jane was seated next to him, making quiet conversation.
Iris tried to pay attention as she approached, but she would admit she really wasn't grasping much else than the odd few words. Something about pink being Jane's color. A question about something. Something about Theo needing to ask.
She didn't have the head to inquire further as she took her seat on Theodore's other side. Vaguely forcing a quick smile, she sank into her chair, eyes dropping down to the table. The table where a plate would be pushed into her view... Theodore had left a piece of toast and some fruit for her... and she would find her first and only genuine smile of the day at that.
Sparing Theodore the quickest of looks, he was already back to talking with Jane, already moved on from the sweetness of his own gesture.
.
.
.
The roommates and Jane had all started their day, trekking off to the Great Hall for both their lunch and a day of watching anyone of age throw their names into the Goblet of Fire, the impartial, magical judge for choosing contestants for the Tournament.
Iris had decided to get on with her day at some point as well, startling Theodore, who had managed to find time to be sucked into a book. He had scrambled to follow her... not that she seemed much to notice. She also definitely wasn't going towards the Great Hall, just slowly making her way down the halls. Quite honestly... it didn't seem she actually was thinking of where she was going... she was just slowly... going...
Watching her feet as they took control.
Theodore glanced at her more than a few times as she went, taking to walking behind her after he had assumed one wrong turn too many. A tactic that would too fail as she came to an abrupt stop, her head snapping back... the first bit of life sparking in her all morning. Iris almost seemed Iris for a split second, saw her face before she went walking back down the hall...
Straight towards where they had passed Cedric Diggory laughing with his group of friends.
Iris wouldn't really have been able to tell you what came over her as she pushed through two of his friends, looking him dead in the eyes, meeting the warm smile that spread as he was met with her eyes. She couldn't tell you what had really prompted her to speak her first words that day, voice needing to be cleared from underuse, "You are entering your name?"
Cedric's face dropped slightly at her tone... the older boy was far from dense. His friends had noticed the sudden change in mood, and all cringed away, nodding to Cedric as they faded off all at once.
Cedric glanced at Theodore Nott lingering a few feet away, the boy's full attention on Iris with a look that was less than promising of a sign of the type of mood Iris was in. But biting the bullet, Cedric met Iris' firm gaze again, leaning further against the window sill behind him. With an almost hesitant nod, he scratched the back of his neck, "Yeah... been talking with people, and I really think I could do well."
"And you could also die."
Cedric didn't seem all that off-put by the coolness in her tone... nor the weight of the words. But looking at her closer... seeing those distinctive signs of her night of no sleep... he did seem put off by her state. Frowning, Cedric had raised a hand, appearing as if he was about to take her shoulder, "Are you—"
Iris shook her head, pulling away her shoulder before he could touch it. Face like a stone as she just stared at him with those cold eyes, "Why are you joining? Really, Cedric?"
His hand dropped dead at his side, gaze moving back to Theodore... the boy getting the hint as he finally dropped his eyes from Iris, moving to lean against the wall and provide an ounce more of privacy for the conversation.
Biting at his cheek, Cedric moved his attention back to Iris, holding back for a moment as he contemplated his words. With time he sighed, "All my dad talks about anymore is how I beat Harry Potter in a quidditch match." His jaw clenched... eyes growing... bitter; it was perhaps the least Cedric Diggory he had ever looked, "He is so proud of me beating someone who was attacked by dementors and fell off his broom.... I just want to give him something to really be proud of. Something that I did."
Something... something in Iris softened at that. But as her firm gaze faded into something closer to... pity... it was still far from understanding, "You are a perfect student, a star player in your own right, and a prefect. And overall just the best guy to walk Hogwarts... you already have plenty for anyone to be proud of. And a whole life ahead of you."
Cedric's head was shaking before she could even finish, "I am his only kid. The only one who he can brag about and show off and be proud of. The only one he can have hope will be greater than him. This is my chance." He tried to force a sorta smile... but ultimately, it came off as a bit of desperation, "I get to earn eternal glory... get to earn my own bit of a name."
Eternal glory. Names. Chasing fame and impossible standards...
The pity in her faded away, replaced by a brief spell of sadness and then the nothingness that she had been dissolving into all day. Her voice was so soft, "Names aren't all they are made out to be... you as you are... you are a lot more impressive...." Her words kept fading off, unable to quite say what she wanted. But sighing to herself, she pushed on, "You are so much more impressive to me as just Cedric."
And maybe it would have meant more, appealed to his teenage brain that was primarily run by his heart... if they were more than friends arguing about this. But they weren't because to him... being just Cedric was doing nothing. Not for his father and not for the first girl to really steal his heart....
Cedric could only be bitter... could only continue to look so set in stone about his decision. Because he was so convinced he needed that taste of eternal glory to be great.
And Iris wouldn't get it, not as she shook her head, moving her eyes away as she refused to even look at him again, muttering that oh-so-dangerous "Fine." As she just walked away. This time a destination in mind.
Cedric, just being him, was quick to realize what had happened. How he had just had his first rocky conversation with the girl. And watching her walk away so cold with him, that wasn't something he would ever feel right about. So looking every bit regretful, he called out to her, taking one step and then another—
And then he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
Theodore Nott just shook his head once, then started his own chase for the girl as she practically beelined for a path that would take her outside.
Cedric was left alone... that whole conversation was such a blur that he had to try and make sense of it.
.
.
.
"Didn't make it far."
She didn't answer, so... just... out of it.
She had made it to the treeline of the forest and even managed to find the biggest tree to hide behind... quite impressive for how just... out of it she seemed. Theodore allowed his first frown of the day; he had been holding out hope that as the day went on, something would improve... but if anything, she had just been getting worse.
It reminded him much of that night in the summer... so empty. A mind overflowing with so much that she just didn't seem capable of handling. Her default defense is to shut down and ignore everything.
He just sat beside her, leaning his head against the tree trunk, staring out to the same place she was... catching the butterfly fluttering around a bush. Landing for just a moment before flapping its delicate wings once again and vanishing from sight.
"How many times did he use the Cruciatus Curse on you?"
Theodore's eyes slammed closed at that, old memories returning instantly. He really would have had all the right in the world to get mad at her. To storm off for such an insensitive and unprompted question... would have been what she would have done. But Theodore... he tended to be a lot more... steady, "Just once, said I should know how it feels. Only fair for if I ever used it."
"And Imperio?"
His eyes opened again, being met again with the forest beyond... the more time he spent out there with her..., the more he would admit it was growing on him. Dirt and all. "A few times, years ago. Wanted me to know how to break from it."
"Cruel lessons."
He looked at her, unsurprised that nothing in her had really changed, so looking forward again, he shrugged, "My father grew up during Grindelwald's time, joined with... the Dark... Voldemort early on... experienced not just the war but things before. Had to keep me prepared for if I ever had to become someone's soldier. He could have been much worse than cruel a few times. At least he was just mostly cold."
"But he should have been better."
She had said that before... to Jane. Horrible, the lives so many of these children were living through. And how casually they had all been tricked into taking it.
It was proved only by how Theodore shrugged, letting the two of them lapse into silence. Theodore is more concerned with the girl next to him than anything at that moment. Eyes just again and again falling back to her... met by no acknowledgment on her part... leaving all prompting to him... something that could be scary.
But he powered on, looking up to the sky... watching the grey clouds take more and more of the sky. "What happens if one of your people is chosen?"
The silence that continued to sit in the air was killer. Such an anxiety-filled moment. Worries about how she would react to having to face her troubles. Worry about what her answer would be.
And what came... started off so relieving, in a small way... at least she was calm, "Ryker would take more permeant residence in the castle for the year. More readily available to help mentor. He'll be around from time to time even if not, but...."
Theodore looked at her again as she faded off, this time looking nowhere else as he watched her face start to drop her empty mask... turning... sad, he felt a pit in his stomach as she continued talking, "I wouldn't be able to realistically hide from him if he was here all the time. Inevitably he would see me in the halls or at meals or hear about me in passing gossip. I'd have to just... come clean... and," she cleared her throat as her voice wavered, "And I just couldn't look him in the eyes and keep letting him do everything. But the idea of taking over... giving up everything I have found here. Having to go back... I.... I just want to be selfish, but I can't do that if I have to face him.
"But then, how bad is that? To see my best friend and hide from him? Part of me wants one of my people to be picked. So then I can just look at him again and face it all and just be done with it all.... But then again, I can't handle that...." She took a deep breath and let it out with a long sigh, "Thinking of what comes after. The future I have spent all this time delaying as much as I can. I have two ways this could all end in just a matter of hours, and at this point, I don't know... don't know which I want. To keep being selfish or to finally face the consequences and my future and just be done with all this delay. I... I don't know."
It fell quiet again. Iris' eyes closed as she leaned back against the tree... "I would hate me if I were him."
Iris' wording could always be so... harsh, even towards herself. That was something Theodore wasn't sure how he felt about noticing. And it stumped him at that moment, so the question fell out so sincerely, "But would you hate him?"
And she wouldn't answer. Those eyes remained closed, not even showing signs of whether that question had truly been processed in her head. She wouldn't even acknowledge it, think about it.
Instead, she would allow several moments of silence, waiting until Theodore's eyes moved from her... and then she would just completely sideline it by asking a new question, "Can you go? Go and watch the selection and come back and tell me... I can't go back inside right now."
Theodore had, on instinct, looked to the sky... but with the growing storm, pulled out his wand instead and tapped it to his wrist. Magic didn't seem to comprehend time the same way people had invented... so some weird graphic of sorts played out on his wrist... whatever it was, Theodore understood, glancing back to the castle and then... frowning at Iris.
The last thing he wanted to do was leave her alone... but he could understand what she needed... so he left. Casting one last glance to watch her head slam back against the tree before he carried on... trying to ignore how that pit in his stomach never let up.
.
.
.
The rain started just an hour ago. Before Theodore even left... though... Iris never really seemed all that aware of it. She hadn't moved, at least. And as Theodore approached, shielding himself as best he could from the rain... part of him almost wished he wouldn't have found her just where he had left her.
He was uneasy knowing that her eyes were on him, waiting for what he would have to say. Clearing his throat... Theodore had to get it over with, "Victor Krum from Durmstrang and Fleur Delacour, that Veela-looking girl from Beauxbatons."
Visibility was poor and any chance of hearing her even poorer... but Theodore could almost imagine that either way that bit of information went... Iris was going to be conflicted all the same. He looked off to the side for a moment, allowing both him and her a moment... for her, it was to deal with whatever initial emotions she felt... and for him, it was a delay of the worse news to follow.
"And Cedric... he was pulled, wasn't he?"
Theodore didn't move much at that. Just let out a simple yes... the worst of the news was all he had left. And before Iris could spend too much time processing Cedric... he figured he should just get it over with...
"And... Harry Potter's name came out as well."
...
The world around Iris seemed to come back to life for a moment. The wind howled. The rain beat against her face. Her hair was everywhere, sticking to her skin with a certain weight. Theodore was no longer just a vague face but a boy nervously shifting from foot to foot. She was no longer just outside but just at the edge of the forest, a tree poking into her back. A rock under her leg. Her mouth was dry, that horrible taste hanging in her mouth. The air was without a discernible smell. And Theodore was painfully quiet outwardly and in his mind... waiting for her reaction.
So quickly, with a push from adrenaline... Iris was back to experiencing the world again.
And so she jumped to her feet, stumbling just for a moment from the dead feeling in her legs. But before Theodore could even reach out to catch her... she was taking off.
A shadow in the miserable night as she returned to the castle.
~~~~~~
"How does one fail an age line of all things!"
From the door slamming to the yell that followed, most would have been six feet off the ground from their shock... or six feet below if they had a weak heart.
Albus Dumbledore would be sparred of the second option despite his old age, able to live another day as he hadn't even flinched as Iris Blackwell bounded into the room. He almost seemed expectant of this, sat patiently at his desk, leaned back against his chair, eyes already trained towards the door.
His eyes lacked that signature sparkle of his as he watched Iris fast approach his desk, slamming her hands down... eyes so angry as she leaned down towards the man. The man who just seemed so... tired... a man who would approach her anger with his abnormal level of patience, "Harry is adamant that he did not enter his name."
Iris scoffed, "No teenager is going to tell on themselves."
Dumbledore didn't move, so comfortable in his chair, "Mr. Peverell had interrogated him a fair bit. And with a few well-worded questions, had taken Harry's side."
Iris's anger dropped in an instant. And with it did the tension in her... face falling as she instantly accepted just how important those words were... those growing dark circles under her eyes making themselves front and center again.
Closing her eyes, Iris leaned into her hands, head dipping as she took a moment to breathe... looking back up for an unneeded confirmation on one thing, "So someone else had to have sabotaged him, right?"
There was a brief hesitation from Dumbledore... his eyes, which were usually so wise... all knowing... held the smallest amount of perplexity. The esteemed great wizard Albus Dumbledore was just as unsure of what was happening. But he did nod, "Alastor has seemed to already have stuck to that theory, yes."
Iris stepped away from the desk, pulling at her hair as she paced herself between the door and the desk a few times. Forced to listen to nothing but some odd, repetitive clicking sound from somewhere in the room of wonders that was the Headmaster's Office.
... click... click... click... click...
Not even a second between them. With time Iris had even matched her steps to them.
... click... click...click... click...
It could have driven someone mad.
... click... click... click...
Click.
It stopped, and so did Iris. The room seemed to still with it; Iris's back turned to the desk. Dumbledore was just as frozen in time as he waited for...
"You can't let him compete."
That.
She rounded back, walking back towards the desk, head shaking and face stone.
And Dumbledore could only shake his in return, "The Goblet of Fire is a binding contract—"
Her arms crossed over her chest as she kept her voice level, "He is fourteen, three years behind the rest."
Dumbledore continued, this time not stopping even as Iris kept cutting in, their voices both so worthy of listening to that it all became a muddled mess to a real-time ear. Words missed and no ability to follow a speaker, words out of order. "Once a name is pulled hasn't learned turning back he even a basic summoning he will have to participate all the same he will be fighting to survive he will be given all the same opportunities how can he have consequences to refusal opportunities it has to be a clear trap he will be closely watched death rates as high as believed he is a capable boy...."
BANG!
Dumbledore was silenced as her fist fell back to the desk, eyes dark as she stared him down... voice wavering as she spoke the only words that mattered... "He is a child." She paused as she straightened up again, stare unforgiving, "And you are failing him."
And with that, she left. Slamming the door behind her.
So suddenly, just leaving Albus Dumbledore to continue to sink into his chair... his eyes were so abnormally dull as he stared down that door... her last words ringing in the air. The last burning stare still leaving its lingering effects... those dark green eyes were so... familiar.
All of her so familiar... those exact words said to him long, long ago by a man she was so similar to... Albus Dumbledore realized that night that... he would never be freed from the hatred of the Blackwells, and Iris Blackwell, a girl so young and broken... was undoubtedly going to be one of the worst. She had the unresolved hatred of many generations in her, and as she inevitably learned more... learned just what role Albus Dumbledore played in everything that had been plaguing the Wizarding World for decades...
It was going to get messy.
~~~~~~
The Common Room should have been empty. But so familiar to a night that felt so long ago... a fireplace was lit. Its dancing orange flames spread warmth through the air. An air that smelled vaguely of the fresh page of a book. And air kept company by the turning pages of a book.
Iris had to stand for a moment outside the reach of the orange light, dimly lit by a green torch, as she just watched the boy sit on an armchair. Watched the back of his head as she listened to him, the scraping of the pages and the fleeting words in his head as he hurried through his book... she had to just poke into his head... just enough to more closely listen as he read.
And that was what gave her away... his annoying little ability to tell she was there. He probably had his father to thank for that... probably had some lesson on detecting intruders in your mind... hopefully not as cruel as his other lessons.
And suddenly, it was Theodore Nott's turn to sit in that orange glow and watch her, the girl standing in the dark. Hair still clinging to her face. Clothes weighed down by the water soaked into the fibers. Watch as she did nothing, said nothing... just lingered in his head for a moment. He... he almost could feel his eyes drop... that pit that had been in his stomach most of the day eating away at him... made no better when she took a few steps closer, her presence slipping from his mind.
Stepping closer, he could make out those bags under her eyes... not just from a night of no sleep but from a day of so many strong emotions... so many problems. And Theodore would never pride himself on words of comfort... but also wouldn't kick himself for being him, "You look like shit."
Still, no words were shared... but she did round to the other side of the armchair, standing in the warmth of those orange flames. Starring right into them as the dance of the fire reflected in her eyes... her shoulders were slumped... her eyes were heavy... and her everything was just so... "I am tired."
She looked back to the fire, making Theodore drop his gaze as well... looking back to his book, fiddling with the pages. Uncertain just what was needed of him. About to suggest she at least go change into dry clothes—
He was pushed aside in his chair. His eyes darted to watch as Iris squeezed herself into the chair. Curled up sideways against him, legs to her chest, arms resting lazily on her stomach... head relaxed on the back of the chair but leaned into his arm... it looked so absurdly tight and uncomfortable... and Theodore would forever curse that way his heart sped up... his head going dead as his face heated... frozen in place with wide eyes...
But as she just whispered... so... fragilely, "I am so exhausted." His heart calmed... his face cooled, his head returned to earth, and his eyes dropped again...
He didn't move... but he relaxed... letting her fade off to a deserved rest. Ignoring her soaked clothes pressed into his side, ignoring the cramped and uncomfortable position he had been squeezed into, ignoring the rest of the day... Theodore just read. Happy... yeah...
Happy that he was some sort of comfort for her.