(Harry Potter Fanfic - Wood Series Book 2) The war is over and the good have won. But in its wake, there is a trail of destruction that must be put to rights. However, no one seems to know where to start.
Even Iris Evans isn't sure what to do with h...
"What the hell, Flint?!! You weren't supposed to go after her! You were supposed to attack that blasted Quidditch player!" the man shouted as he apparated into the dank room.
It was a dark corner in the cellar of an abandoned manor out in the countryside. While it wasn't particularly pleasant, it was remote, and no one would connect Flint to it. It was the perfect hideout. That is if Flint hadn't completely fallen out of the good graces of his host. Currently, said host was seriously tempted to throttle him.
"He killed my girl. Thought it was only fair I go after his," Flint growled. "Eye for an eye."
"Have you completely forgotten our arrangement? You get to have your revenge on Wood, and I get the girl. I can't bloody well have her if she's dead," the man said, balling his fists up.
Flint glared across the room at the man who happened to be his cousin.
"Yea, yea, I remember. I wasn't going to kill her. Just wanted to scare her and Wood a bit. Give him a taste of what it's like," he said.
The other man rolled his eyes and huffed.
"You're a fucking idiot, Flint. She was in a bloody coma for a year. You weren't giving him a taste - he already knows what that's like," he groaned. "And now he's just going to keep her under closer watch. And really? You stabbed her! How was that scaring them?!"
"It wasn't deep," Flint countered.
"She's in St. Mungo's for the next two days," the other man shouted.
"What is it about this bitch that has you and Wood all tied up? She's gorgeous, I'll give you that - probably good for a ride - but not sure why you're both so obsessed with her," Flint said.
The man charged Flint and shoved him up against the wall. He had a good two inches on him and was just as burly.
"Never. Talk. About. Her. Like. That," he said menacingly, his crystal blue eyes flashing in rage. "Of course, you wouldn't understand just how special Iris Evans is."
He gave Flint another shove and let him go, stepping away.
"So, do you have something in mind for our next move or do I have to do all the work?" James asked as he smoothed his hair and attempted to regain control of himself.
He turned and looked at Flint, who was massaging his shoulder and scowling at him.
"Still working on it. I'll owl you when I have something," he said, grimacing. James nodded.
"Don't take too long."
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Iris looked up from her book as she heard a knock on the door. Once she had apologized profusely to George upon his return, he had agreed to stop by the flat and bring a few of her novels over as Oliver still had not returned. Iris couldn't help but feel anxious about the radio silence, but she hadn't had much time to think about it as a steady stream of visitors had been stopping by once word got out that she had calmed down.
