"Those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly." For Iris Potter, these words defined her whole life. Born with a natural talent for Legilim...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⌗ ⌗ ⌗
"Dumbledore warned Fudge this could happen. He's going to get us all killed, just because he's too scared to face the truth."
The news had broken that morning: Death Eaters had escaped Azkaban. Iris was walking into the Great Hall with Harry and their two companions, her pulse racing. Hermione had been talking nonstop since they found out, though it seemed her furious tones were the only voice anyone could muster.
As they were walking along the Gryffindor table, a voice called out, "Harry, Iris?"
The twins turned in surprise to find a nervous Seamus.
Seamus twisted his hands, looking very bashful, "I wanted to apologize." he rubbed the back of his neck, "Now even me Mam says the Prophet's version of things don't add up." Iris exchanged a look with Harry that was filled with renewed hope. "What I'm trying to say is... I believe you."
That morning seemed to be the tipping point for a lot of students. All throughout the rest of the day, Iris noticed she was receiving more looks than usual, but rather than the judgement and malice they held every time before, these looks were more curious. Once or twice she was sure she overheard snatches of conversation that suggested that the speakers were not satisfied with the Prophet's version of how and why ten Death Eaters had managed to break out of Azkaban fortress. These doubters now seemed to be turning to the only other explanation available to them, the one that Iris, Harry, and Dumbledore had been expounding since the previous year. Iris could tell the break-out had struck something into a lot of people— more than just fear.
It was not only the students' mood that had changed. It was now quite common to come across two or three teachers conversing in low, urgent whispers in the corridors, breaking off their conversations the moment they saw students approaching.
A weekend not long after, quidditch was back on. Though the students and professors carried a whisper in the background of everyday activities, everyone seemed to cautiously move on from the events earlier that month. The morning of the big Gryffindor versus Slytherin game, Harry received a rousing welcome at the Gryffindor table, where everyone was wearing red and gold. Iris and Ron sat on either side of him, decked out in supporting colours as well. Hermione and Ginny sat down opposite them wearing red-and-gold scarves, gloves, and rosettes.
"How're you feeling?" Ginny asked Harry, who was looking considerably more cheered up than his usual disposition those days.
"Amazing," said Harry.
Iris couldn't help but smile, her brother's never-ceasing excitement for the sport filling her heart with a warm feeling of joy that had been missing for a significant amount of time.
"Hello," said a vague and dreamy voice from behind them. Iris looked up: Luna Lovegood had drifted over from the Ravenclaw table. Many people were staring at her and a few openly laughing and pointing; she had managed to procure a hat shaped like a life-size lion's head, which was perched precariously on her head.
