"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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Everybody else spent the following morning putting up Christmas decorations. Iris could not remember Sirius ever being in such a good mood; he was actually singing carols, apparently delighted that he was to have company over Christmas. Iris could hear his voice echoing up through the floor in her cold and empty bedroom where she was sitting alone, watching the sky outside the windows growing whiter, threatening snow. She was so out of it that she didn't even hear Mrs Weasley calling her and Harry's names softly up the stairs around lunchtime.
All night and day, Iris' whole body shivered uncontrollably. She was covered in a cold sweat, her mind foggy and unsharp as her eyes struggled to remain open. There was a chill in the room that seeped into every bone in her body and left her unable to get warm. The girl had achingly stumbled her way over to the window seat shortly after noon, sitting and resting her forehead against the glass that burned with frost, watching as snow began to fall.
Sirius had come to check on her a few times throughout the day, each time his worry growing more. The first two times, he had to let himself in because Iris became so catatonic that she didn't hear his knocking. She wouldn't eat the food he brought her, in fact, she would barely move. He had never seen her look so sickly before. The increased paleness of her skin accentuated the dark bags under her hazel eyes that seemed to look right through him.
He paced the hall outside her door, panic and fear running through him as he wondered what he should do. He didn't even know what was wrong with his goddaughter, just that she had apparently healed the unhealable and suddenly looked as though she might keel over at any moment.
The briefest thought that he might somehow get in contact with Audrianna for help was snuffed out quickly by the spite that still clung to his heart.
It was around six o'clock in the evening that the doorbell rang and Mrs Black started screaming again. Assuming that Mundungus or some other Order member had come to call, Iris, who had moved back to her large bed at some point, merely settled herself more comfortably in the pile of blankets where she was hiding, ignoring how hungry she felt. Iris only moved in slight curiosity when somebody knocked gently on the door a few minutes later.
"I know you're in there," said Hermione's voice. "Can I come in? I want to talk to you."
"What are you doing here?" Iris struggled to speak as her best friend pushed open the door, "I thought you were skiing with your mum and dad."
"Well, to tell the truth, skiing's not really my thing," said Hermione, walking over to the side of the bed. "So I've come for Christmas." There was snow in her hair and her face was pink with cold. "But don't tell Ron that, I told him it's really good because he kept laughing so much. Anyway, Mum and Dad are a bit disappointed, but I've told them that everyone who's serious about the exams is staying at Hogwarts to study. They want me to do well, they'll understand. Anyway," she said briskly, "Sirius told me you've been sick... you do look a bit dreadful, to be honest."
