𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓂'𝓈 𝒜 𝐵𝓇𝑒𝓌𝒾𝓃'

December 26th, 1994

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓎-𝒩𝒾𝓃𝑒

The dungeons were eerie that night. So... lifeless when, just hours before, the whole castle had been alive. So much happening all at once in the lives of all those teenagers... in the lives of even the adults. So many laughs shared and tears shed. All that to end in the same way nonetheless.

In that static-like silence.

A static that had anyone left tossing and turning in bed to fill the void themselves. The worst moment for troubled heads to be alight...

"May I have this dance?"

Those simple brown eyes of his staring straight into her whole being, His hand held out... that hand so scary in that moment for just how welcoming she found it... for what grabbing it had meant.

And oh, those simple brown eyes as she pushed nearer and nearer to him... so easy to fall into the comfort of his arms and accept what was happening. All rational gone as her eyes fluttered close, nothing else but his breath on her face mattering... the faintest ghost-like touch of his lips almost entrapping her completely—

Iris once again slammed a fist to her bed, her eyes flying open into the most immediate glare.

Hours.

Hours she had been doing this. Mind wandering right where she didn't want it to go the moment she tried fading into the comfort of her bed. It was enraging. All semblance of peace gone as she was forced again and again to face the... situation... with Theodore Nott. Confusing things to have to face and handle.

And as she calmed her temper yet again... maybe she was hit with a small hope the more familiar nightmares and uncomfortable memories would just make a return. Those were at least something she fully understood.

And it almost worked, a frown coming to her face as she faded off again, a green light building in the distance—

"So, how can you be more beautiful than a Veela?" Those words struck her. Iris left so surprised by her friend, a boy who never spoke like that to anyone... who never looked at anyone like that.

Those plain brown eyes filled with a simple and easy admiration. Her head tilted as things started spinning through her head... something new rearing to build in her—

Iris' hands flew to cover her face as her feet kicked under her covers in a child-like tantrum. Finally, seeming to give up as she sat up, holding back a frustrated scream as she lowered her hands off her eyes and to just her mouth. Her glare just as harsh as before.

She really tried to calm. Taking in deep, full breaths. Moving her hands to massage her temples. Letting her eyes fall closed once again. And it almost worked, for the hundredth time that night, she felt herself fading into the beginnings of sleep—

His head slammed against the top of her own. Iris' mind wandered as he breathed in and out the scent of her hair. Thinking against her will even then about just how different he was with her. That whole set of moments filled with lingering touches and gazes into those stupid brown eyes of his that, for once, she was finally realizing herself—

She decided then that she was fed up with herself and her own head. Fed up with that deafening silence and the conclusions her mind was trying to bring to light.

And as she always did when forced to be awake because of a restless mind, she would go for a walk. Seeking some way to ignore her own head and focus on anything else. Because the only conclusion Iris Blackwell was at all ready to face in that moment was how much she absolutely loathed Theodore Nott.