KARMA POLICE Harry Potter

two. cookies & reunions

WHEN IRIS RETURNED HOME, she found her father fatigued, as he often was after a cycle. The weariness etched into his features was evident—new scars adorned his skin, and dark circles marred the area beneath his eyes.

Iris carried a tin of cookies, a gesture of comfort she hoped would alleviate some of her father's weariness. Placing the tin between them, she watched as he reached for a cookie, mirroring her actions.

"How are you feeling?" Iris inquired, her concern palpable.

Her father managed a weary smile, a feeble attempt to mask his true feelings. "I feel as though I've just transformed into a werewolf," he replied with a hint of humor, albeit tinged with exhaustion.

Iris chuckled softly at his literal joke, understanding the strain he must be under. "Professor Snape, is he still the Potions Master?" her father inquired.

Iris sighed at the mention of Snape, recalling the animosity he harbored towards her and Harry. "He seems to have made Hogwarts his permanent residence. He holds a deep disdain for Harry and me," she lamented.

Curiosity flickered in her father's eyes as he raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?" he inquired.

"I haven't the faintest idea. On our first day of class, he berated Harry for writing notes. It left Harry feeling rather dejected," Iris recounted, frustration evident in her tone. She found solace in confiding in her father, knowing he would listen with understanding.

"Well, according to the letters I received, you were quite the mischief maker during your first two years," her father remarked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Iris feigned offense at the playful accusation, determined to defend herself. "Technically, I was dragged into it by Harry. Snape, on the other hand, is simply unkind," she argued.

Her father chuckled at her spirited response, rising to fetch some tea. "Keep talking, darling. I'll put the kettle on," he offered before disappearing into the kitchen.

Iris continued her recounting of her Hogwarts experiences, eager to share with her father. "Oh, Dad, I must tell you about the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers we've had. Professor Lockhart was a disaster—he once unleashed a horde of pixies and fled, leaving us second-years to fend for ourselves," she recounted.

Her father's voice drifted from the kitchen in a chorus of "oh's" and "ah's," prompting Iris to continue.

"Seems like you had quite the tumultuous experience," her father interjected as he returned to the dining room.

Iris nodded in agreement, grateful for her father's presence and understanding. She recalled the tearful goodbye before her first year, unsure of what awaited her at Hogwarts. Reminiscing on their conversations at the table, she realized how much she valued their bond—a constant source of comfort and guidance throughout her years at Hogwarts.

-FLASHBACK-

Remus carried one of Iris' suitcases as they walked along platform nine and three quarters. Remus looked down at Iris who had been seemingly excited ever since she got the letter to be able to go to Hogwarts. Remus couldn't help but notice her head faced to the ground.

Remus stopped, Iris stopped with him. It was time to get on the train. Remus set her suitcase down and kneeled in front of her. "It's time to go—" Remus began to speak.

He heard a sniffle, then Iris looked up at him with teary red eyes shocking him. His face softened up and he made eye contact with her "Oh, darling what's the matter?" He asked, using his thumb to wipe some new tears that started to run down her cheeks.