"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...
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"Got any more of that magic slime?"
Iris looked up from her transfiguration essay. Harry was standing across the table from where she was sat in a corner of the near-empty Gryffindor Common Room, cradling his right hand. Iris could see blood dripping between his fingers and her eyes widened, quickly beckoning her brother closer. He walked around the circular table and took a seat at the chair beside her while Iris bent down to her book bag. She pulled out a bowl and a jar of mucus-looking liquid.
When Iris had visited the Shielded house the week prior, she had asked Lucas and Jason, the healers, for anything that could help Harry's hand after his detentions with Umbridge. They gave her a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles. It didn't heal the words carved into his hand entirely, but it helped ease his pain at least.
Iris poured the essence of murtlap into the shallow bowl and then took Harry's hand gently. She unwound her Gryffindor scarf from her neck and used it to carefully wipe the blood from the back of the open wound. Harry grimaced, his arm clenching. Iris muttered an apology, her eyes growing tearful as she read the words: 'I must not tell lies.'
She wiped most of the blood off and Harry placed his bleeding, aching hand into the bowl. Immediately a look of relief washed over him. Crookshanks and Buttercup curled around the twins' legs, purring loudly. Hermione's orange cat then leapt into Harry's lap and settled down to wait for her owner to return. Iris reached down to grab her own cat, pulling the ball of fluff into her arms.
"Thanks," Harry said gratefully, scratching behind Crookshanks's ears with his left hand.
Iris's hazel eyes searched his face, "It's my job," she told him sincerely, "I'll always take care of you." She tried to blink the wetness from her eyes as she then said, "I'm sorry— that you have to go through all of this. It's my fault... you're defending Cedric," she choked on his name, "I should be the one to do that."
Harry's expression had dropped even further, his sad eyes watching Iris closely.
"We were both there," he said.
Iris shook her head, looking away and wiping under her eyes quickly. She turned back, giving Harry a sad attempt at a reassuring smile, her hazel eyes glittering with unshed tears in the firelight.
"You've always been better at protecting us. You actually stand up for yourself and others," Harry went to protest but Iris continued before he could, "I'm the quiet one, I..." she paused in thought and gestured at the few stacks of textbooks on the table, "...read. And even that doesn't mean anything anymore... I'm failing almost all my classes."
Iris looked down dejectedly, petting Buttercup softly. Her grades had massively tanked since they had returned to school, dropping her from her usual spot at the top of the class alongside Hermione. Iris just couldn't find the will to care about her schoolwork anymore— not when there were much more important things happening in her life.
