Much Ado about Nothing

Chapter 5

1st of September found the Weasley household buzzing with barely repressed excitement and anxiety, as four children (all of them of age now, though) were getting ready for their final year at Hogwarts. It was refreshing, though Iris, as she checked her trunk for any missing items for the final time, to be able to go back to Hogwarts without any Aurors or Order members tailing her for a change, though the absence of any visible threat did nothing to deter Mrs. Weasley from accompanying them to King's Cross "for the last time, till grandchildren came along", as she pointed out emotionally.
Iris looked around the room that had been occupied by the twins before they shifted base to Diagon Alley, and had housed her since then, but the sight of an empty cage on the window-sill she hadn't noticed before, made her feel as though she had been stabbed.
It wasn't Hedwig's, she knew, couldn't be possibly, but reason seldom succeeded in soothing an aching heart, and she had barely managed to lock and silence the room before she broke down. It had been a year, more than a year really to the day she had lost Hedwig, her first ever birthday gift ever (since Voldemort wrecked her life with a single curse), her only link to a world that had accepted her, loved her and given her a home and family, reducing the duration of the summer days she'd have to spend at Privet Drive. She had kept herself busy throughout last year with hunting Horcruxes, solving cryptic riddles to fulfil Quests, and after the war had completely stripped down Grimmauld Place, organizing and reorganizing stuff just to not allow herself the luxury of letting her thoughts wander to the war they had eventually won, though at a great cost; but now, all the emotions that she had bottled up inundated her dams of self-control and forced indifference, as she sobbed uncontrollably at the memory of each casualty of the war- her parents, whom she had never known, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Mad-eye, Dobby, Colin, and 50 others- some of them children, inconveniently caught up in the cross-fire.
She was past the stage of grief, all she felt at their deaths now was anger and self-loathing, that it should have been her, and not them that should have been in a grave. The knowledge that there are some circumstances beyond our control or the repeated reassurances that none of the living held her responsible for their martyred loved ones, had never helped Iris assuage her survivor's guilt much.
A knock on the door, followed by Hermione's voice (they had sorted out all their differences soon after, and Ron and Hermione had promised to ignore him till he started any fights whatsoever- verbal or physical, and Iris was okay with it), which informed Iris that their time of departure had arrived, and she walked out of the Burrow, meeting the eager faces of her friends, waiting for her by the cab, all of them looking forward to finally having a quiet, laid-back, final year at Hogwarts.
"Prefects are supposed to be ahead, get a move on, Blaise", Draco Malfoy, Head Boy, called out irritably to Blaise Zabini, the Slytherin prefect, who had replaced him, and who at this very moment was engrossed in a game of wizard's chess with Theodore Nott, and was completely ignoring him.
"You go on, I'll manage him", Pansy told Draco in an effort to placate him.
"Honestly Pansy, who in their right minds would have made Blaise a prefect?", Draco grumbled, and walked out of their compartment, sniggering to himself as he heard a groan of annoyance and complaint from Blaise. He himself had never expected to have been chosen for Head Boy, not with the blot on his character (literally and figuratively), but McGonagall seemed intent on giving Slytherins a second chance to redeem themselves, and well, he really didn't want to disappoint her.
"Potter's replaced Granger as prefect", he heard Pansy say, as Blaise closed the door to the Prefect's compartment, which was currently empty except the three Slytherins.
"Damn it, Draco, no one's here yet, I'd have won the match", Blaise grumbled, as he flopped down on a seat, but neither Draco nor Pansy paid him much attention- Pansy trying to gauge Draco's reaction, who had started scrutinizing the outdoor scenery with a closed expression.
"Well?", Pansy asked (prompted, more like).
"Well what? What do you want me to say?", Draco replied at last, without turning away from the window.
"Nothing much, I just wanted to know if it will be awkward for you to be working with her, now that she's a prefect and all", Pansy replied. The fact that Draco and Potter had been at loggerheads for seven years, hung in the air between them, unsaid yet understood.
Draco shrugged, "It's Granger I'll be working with, not Potter".
"We both know Granger isn't worth a Knut of your thoughts", Pansy persisted.
"What exactly do you mean, Pansy?", Draco demanded, finally turning away from the window, "Why do you think that Potter being a prefect should affect me? We've always had our own separate paths to travel, and that isn't going to change."
Blaise snorted, and muttered, though loud enough for Draco to hear, "Yeah, and we're going to conveniently ignore the fact that Draco has had an unhealthy obsession with Potter, since his first year -", but stopped abruptly at the quelling glare sent his way by the one in question.
"Bloody lazy buggers, can't come to a prefect meeting on time", as he walked up to the door of the compartment, and slid it open, "I'm going to hunt them down. You coming, Blaise?", and Pansy smiled sympathetically at the anguished expression on her fiancé's face, as he was literally dragged out of the compartment.
She had been enjoying the view of the countryside, that hadn't seemed all that pleasant last year, with the terror of death looming over their heads, when the compartment door slid open to reveal a very sheepish-looking Iris Potter, who gave an almost inaudible sigh of relief on not finding anyone but Pansy in the compartment.
"Parkinson", Iris greeted her with a smile, as she took the seat next to the window facing her, "no one else here yet?"
"Draco and Blaise were here, they've gone to find the others", Pansy replied, still shocked that Potter- Iris Potter had smiled at her- the girl they had tormented for years, and worse the girl she (they- she had voiced what all the other Slytherins had wanted) had wanted to hand over to the Dark Lord to save their skins (like the cowards they were- who used the term 'self-preservation' to hide their cowardice), though now she'd rather not think about the kind of life they'd have been living if Potter had actually been handed over, and she was again overcome by the terrible guilt that had gnawed her insides for the past four months. She had to do something- apologise, beg for forgiveness, grovel- anything that would return her sanity to herself.
She had been engrossed in these thoughts, when Potter's concerned voice jerked her back to reality.
"Yeah, I'm good. You were saying something?", Pansy asked, as she realized that Potter had been waiting for her answer.
"Congratulations on your engagement. It was in the Prophet", Potter repeated, looking wary.
"Thanks Potter", Pansy replied, but after a moment's pause, she burst out, "Potter, I'm really, really sorry for... for everything I've done all over these years. I'm so, so sorry", and was not surprised to hear her voice break.
"You really think I've still been holding onto grudges for whatever you have done before the war?"
Pansy looked up, as Potter calmly posed the question that had made the last four months of her life hell (though she had regretted every action, every casual insult she had thrown their way ever since her perfect life had gone awry, thanks to the Dark Lord).
"Potter, I had wanted to hand you over to the Dark Lord, not to mention whatever I'd done till the sixth year- not just to you, to Granger, and sometimes to Weasley too. I wouldn't have been surprised, if you'd have hexed the living daylights out of me", Pansy cried, slightly hysterical at Potter's failure to grasp the immense importance of this apology to her.
"Parkinson, you wanted to save yourself and your family from Voldemort's wrath. In your situation, probably I'd have done the same, I suppose", Potter said (though Pansy knew that Potter would have sacrificed herself than give up others).
"It would have been better if I'd been handed over, fifty innocent people and students wouldn't have been murdered", she heard Potter say bitterly, as she got up.
Potter was about to slide open the door, but Draco walked in at that moment, looking disgruntled, and followed by a harassed-looking Blaise.
"Shame the Prefect meeting timings are not suited to the Chosen One and her band of followers- sauntering in as and when they like", Draco sneered as soon as he saw Potter.
This was really uncalled for, even in Pansy's opinion (that had so far overlooked all the instances where Draco had started the fights), and she found the same reflected on Blaise's exasperated expression.
"Shame the other prefects weren't informed of Your Highness' high expectations of punctuality", Potter retorted in the same sneering tone, and Pansy was swiftly on the guard should any of them resort to wands, but Potter pushed past Draco and walked out into the corridor, leaving Draco scowling as she slammed the door shut.
"Why do you always wind her up? And where are the others?", Pansy demanded, hands on her hips.
"They are coming", Draco replied shortly, taking up the seat that Potter had just vacated, choosing not to answer the first question (the question had anyways been rhetoric though).
"All this after he'd agreed to ignore Potter as always", Blaise muttered to her, as Draco's scowl intensified.
Shaking her head in exasperation at her best friend, she sat down, waiting for the meeting to commence and realized as she looked at the scowling Draco that this was going to be another long year.