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The rest of the holiday break went by quickly— too quickly for Iris' liking. She spent the rest of Christmas Day with Harry, Sirius, and Remus, celebrating the holiday with her remaining family for the first time.

A number of things occurred over the next few days. First, news broke of Alice Longbottom's miraculous recovery. No one could understand how it had happened, and obviously, almost no one knew the truth, so instead the public had no choice but to view it as a magical miracle. Iris noticed a distinctive change in the attitudes of Order members who came and went through Grimmauld Place that day; everyone seemed happier, there was a certain sense of new hope in the air.

Though Mr Weasley soon regained health and returned to Twelve Grimmauld Place much to everyone's delight, Alice was dealt with in a much more delicate manner. The Order would have loved to have one of their original members back, but it seemed as though all eyes were on the Longbottoms and no one would be able to make a move. Dumbledore reached out to her covertly, giving her an update on the situation at hand without the Ministry's denial interfering.

On another note, a few of the residents at the house came to take notice of a particular absence since they had first arrived. Iris could not remember the last time she had seen Kreacher, but she was quite certain it had not been since the first night all of the children left Hogwarts.

It had been weeks when Iris brought this up to her godfather, but he brushed it off vaguely. Days later, the house-elf was located. Kreacher, it transpired, had been lurking in the attic. Sirius said he had found him up there, covered in dust, no doubt looking for more relics of the Black family to hide in his cupboard. Though Sirius seemed satisfied with this story, it made Iris uneasy. Kreacher seemed to be in a better mood on his reappearance, his bitter muttering had subsided somewhat, and he submitted to orders more docilely than usual, though once or twice Iris caught the house-elf staring avidly at her or Harry, always looking quickly away when he saw that one of them had noticed.

Fearful of worsening his mood, Iris did not mention her vague suspicions to Sirius, whose cheerfulness was evaporating fast now that Christmas was over. As the date of their departure back to Hogwarts drew nearer, he became more and more prone to what Mrs Weasley called "fits of the sullens," in which he would become taciturn and grumpy, often withdrawing to Buckbeak's room for hours at a time. His gloom seeped through the house, oozing under doorways like some noxious gas so that all of them became infected by it.

1996 arrived and soon all of the students would be returning to school. Iris did not want to leave Sirius all alone again with only Kreacher for company, but her worries were quenched by Remus' announcement that he would be remaining at Twelve Grimmauld Place for the rest of the school year. He chalked it up to safety and ease for his relations with the Order, which Iris was sure was part of it, but truly she believed their godfathers were lonely and in need of the company from their best friends.

On the last day of the holidays, Iris found herself stuck in an uncomfortable situation.

For at least five minutes, the girl had been sitting in terribly tense silence, accompanied by the unlikely combination of Sirius and Professor Snape, both seated at the long kitchen table, glaring in opposite directions. The silence between them was heavy with mutual dislike. A letter lay open on the table in front of Sirius.

Finally, the door creaked open to reveal her brother.

"Er," said Harry to announce his presence.

"Thank god," Iris muttered under her breath, relieved that they could finally begin.

Snape looked around at Harry, his face framed between curtains of greasy black hair.

"Sit down, Potter."

"You know," said Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see."

Iris let out a pained sigh. An ugly flush suffused Snape's pallid face. Harry sat down in a chair beside Iris, looking uncertainly at Snape down the table.

"I was supposed to see you and your sister alone, Potter," said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth, "but Black—"

"I'm her godfather," said Sirius, louder than ever.

Iris grimaced, exchanging a look with Harry, who still had no idea why he had been summoned. Remus could not sit in like Sirius because he was busy, but even so, she wasn't sure her brother's godfather would have been quite so brazen.

"I am here on Dumbledore's orders," said Snape, whose voice, by contrast, was becoming more and more quietly waspish, "but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel... involved."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Sirius, letting his chair fall back onto all four legs with a loud bang.

"Sirius—" Iris warned, giving the man a pleading look in hopes he would back down.

"Merely that I am sure you must feel — ah — frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing useful," Snape laid a delicate stress on the word, "for the Order."

It was Sirius's turn to flush. Snape's lip curled in triumph as he turned to Harry.

"The headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."

"Study what?" said Harry blankly.

Iris gave her brother a look, wondering sometimes how they could share genes. Snape's sneer became more pronounced.

"Occlumency, Potter. The magical defence of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."

"It's the opposite of legilimency," Iris explained.

Harry's face portrayed all sorts of panic and confusion.

"Why do I have to study Occlu — thing?" he blurted out.

Iris rolled her eyes.

"Because the headmaster thinks it a good idea," said Snape smoothly. "You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?"

"Yes," said Harry. "Who's going to be teaching me?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I am," he said.

Harry's eyes grew wide, a horrified expression coming over his face. He looked quickly around at Sirius for support.

"Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry? Or even Iris?" asked Sirius aggressively. "Why you?"

"I suppose because it is a headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks," said Snape silkily. "I assure you I did not beg for the job." His eyes shifted to Iris, "As for Miss Potter, you cannot teach what you have not learned."

Iris looked down. It was one more way she felt she was useless... because her skills were natural and not learned, Iris was unable to teach Harry how to guard his mind when she could not.

Professor Snape got to his feet. "I will expect you at six o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them."

He turned to leave, his black travelling cloak billowing behind him.

"Wait a moment," said Sirius, sitting up straighter in his chair.

Iris tensed, watching her godfather closely, internally begging him just to let the man go.

Snape turned back to face them, sneering. "I am in rather a hurry, Black... unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time..."

"I'll get to the point, then," said Sirius, standing up. He was rather taller than Snape who, Iris noticed, had balled his fist in the pocket of his cloak over what Iris was sure was the handle of his wand. "Remus can't be here himself to say this, but If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have not only him, but also me to answer to."

"How touching," Snape sneered. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?"

"Yes, I have," said Sirius proudly.

"Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said sleekly.

Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table toward Snape, pulling out his wand as he went; Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius's wand tip to his face.

"Sirius!" said the twins in sync loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear them.

Iris stood hastily, preparing herself to stop Sirius from doing something he'd regret.

"I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better —"

"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?"

"Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"

"Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "your old friend has surely informed all of the Dark Lord's followers by now of your illegal condition... the papers are getting quite close to uncovering your whereabouts, no? I'm sure you've just been looking for any excuse not to leave your hidey-hole these days, haven't you?"

Sirius raised his wand.

"NO!" Iris yelled, running around the table and trying to get in between them, "Sirius, don't —"

"Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Iris out of the way, but Iris would not budge.

Harry had followed quickly behind her, grabbing Sirius' arms and desperately trying to restrain him from behind.

"Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.

"Iris — get — out — of — it!" snarled Sirius, trying to push her out of the way with his free hand. Harry was using all of his strength to hold the older man back.

The kitchen door opened and the entire Weasley family, plus Hermione, came inside, all looking very happy, with Mr Weasley walking proudly in their midst dressed in a pair of striped pyjamas covered by a mackintosh.

"Cured!" he announced brightly to the kitchen at large. "Completely cured!"

He and all the other Weasleys froze on the threshold, gazing at the scene in front of them, which was also suspended in mid-action, both Sirius and Snape looking toward the door with their wands pointing into each other's faces and Iris immobile between them, a hand stretched out to each of them, trying to force them apart while Harry froze his wrestling from behind.

"Merlin's beard," said Mr Weasley, the smile sliding off his face, "what's going on here?"

Both Sirius and Snape lowered their wands. Iris looked from one to the other. Each wore an expression of utmost contempt, yet the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses seemed to have brought them to their senses. Snape pocketed his wand and swept back across the kitchen, passing the Weasleys without comment. At the door, he looked back.

"Six o'clock Monday evening, Potter."

He was gone. Sirius glared after him, his wand at his side.

"But what's been going on?" asked Mr Weasley again.

"Nothing, Arthur," said Sirius, who was breathing heavily as though he had just run a long distance. "Just a friendly little chat between two old school friends..." With what looked like an enormous effort, he smiled. "So... you're cured? That's great news, really great..."

Iris barely slept that night, sad to be leaving Sirius and scared to be returning to Hogwarts where both Umbridge and the hundreds of students who thought she was a liar were.

After a hurried breakfast, they pulled on jackets and scarves against the chilly grey January morning. Iris had an unpleasant constricted sensation in her chest; she did not want to say goodbye to Sirius. She had a bad feeling about this parting; she did not know when they would next see each other and felt that it was incumbent upon her to say something to Sirius to stop him doing anything stupid — Iris was worried that Snape's accusation of cowardice had stung Sirius so badly he might even now be planning some foolhardy trip beyond Grimmauld Place. Before she could think of what to say, however, Sirius had beckoned her to his side.

"Ready?" asked Sirius, clapping Iris on the shoulder and smiling grimly, and before Iris could say anything, they were heading upstairs, stopping before the heavily chained and bolted front door, surrounded by Weasleys.

"Goodbye, Iris, take care," said Mrs Weasley, hugging her.

"See you Iris, good luck on your exams!" said Mr Weasley genially, shaking her hand.

"Right — yeah," said Iris distractedly. It was her last chance to tell Sirius to be careful; she turned, looked into her godfather's face and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could do so Sirius was giving her a brief, one-armed hug. He said gruffly, "Look after yourself, Iris," and the next moment Iris found herself being shunted out into the icy winter air, with Tonks (today heavily disguised as a tall, tweedy woman with iron-grey hair) chivvying her down the steps.

The door of number twelve slammed shut behind them. They followed Remus down the front steps. As she reached the pavement, Iris looked around, the cold air chilling her lungs as she breathed it in. Number twelve was shrinking rapidly as those on either side of it stretched sideways, squeezing it out of sight; one blink later, it had gone.

Back in classes, Iris was struggling as much as ever that year. She had already been given quite a pile of homework considering it was just the first day back, and her updated marks for the first term were less than satisfactory. Iris had a million thoughts racing through her head at any given moment and could no longer stand to the quality expected of her. With O.W.L.'s approaching rapidly, the professors were only making their coursework more difficult. Her morning Potions lesson did nothing to dispel his trepidation, as Snape was as unpleasant as ever, and Iris' mood was further lowered by the fact that members of the D.A. were continually approaching her and Harry in the corridors between classes, asking hopefully whether there would be a meeting that night. To their own dissatisfaction, they had to put it off until an unspecified date, going along with the ruse of Harry taking special Remedial Potions lessons that night.

The only good thing that happened that first week back is that Thursday afternoon, just after Iris' last class of the day, Hermione came running up to her, grinning widely.

"Hagrid's back!"

They found the two boys within minutes and alerted them to the return of their friend and soon the quartet was racing down the slope toward Hagrid's Hut. As they approached the house, its windows finally lit, the students heard two voices carrying out the open window. One, in particular, the one that did not belong to the friendly man that lived there, was nauseatingly familiar. They slowed their running, cautious looks upon all of their faces. Harry motioned them around the side— as they peered in the window Iris' suspicions were confirmed.

Umbridge, donned in her usual pink robes, was pacing before Hagrid, her back to the open window.

"...I will say this one last time. As High Inquisitor and the Ministry's representative, I am ordering you to tell me where you've been!" Her sickly sweet voice commanded.

Hagrid protested shyly, "I told yer— I've been away for me health."

As he spoke, Iris observed his face, noticing how it was covered in horrible bruises.

Umbridge snarkily repeated him, her tone drenched in doubt, "Your health."

Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, attempting to maintain his story, "Bit o' fresh air, yeh know."

"Yes, as gamekeeper, fresh air must be difficult to come by." Umbridge paused, her false sweetness dissolving, "You should know... Professor, the Ministry is most determined to weed out unsatisfactory teachers— particularly those less... lucky... in their lineage. You are half-giant, are you not?"

Hagrid stiffened. Iris gripped Harry's wrist tightly, her blood boiling. The four of them each exchanged a look of both sadness and anger.

Though he was clearly caught off guard, Hagrid remained calm, saying somewhat uncertainly, "I don't see what that has to do with my ability to teach."

Umbridge smiled sickly, "No... You wouldn't." She waltzed over to the door of the hut and then paused, turning back, "If I were you I shouldn't get too used to being back. In fact... I mightn't bother unpacking at all."

Once the teenagers were sure Umbridge was gone, they knocked on Hagrid's door and were hastily invited inside.

"Oh Hagrid, what happened?" Hermione said, looking on the verge of tears as she inspected his beaten face.

Hagrid brushed it off, "I told yer, it's nothin'. Want a cuppa?"

"Nothing?" Ron repeated incredulously, "Would you say that if one of us turned up with a pound of mince instead of a face?"

Hagrid grimaced, limping over to his chair, wincing as he clutched his ribs. As he settled back in his chair he slapped a green dragon steak over his eye, to which his tail-wagging boarhound, Fang, immediately became enraptured by.

Harry urged softly, "Hagrid... it's us."

Hagrid hesitated, looking around warily, then leaned in, speaking lowly, "Now this is all top secret, mind yeh... but Dumbledore sent me ter parley with the Giants."

"Giants!" Hermione exclaimed.

Iris shushed her and Hermione bashfully whispered a sorry.

"You found them?" Iris asked curiously.

Hagrid chuckled, "They're not that difficult ter find, ter be honest. Pretty big, see. Live deep in the mountains... Went over a ridge one nigh' an' there they was... Like watchin' bits o' the mountain movin'..."

"And they did this to you?" Harry asked with a wince at his discoloured face.

Hagrid hesitated, "Not exactly... I mean, in a manner o' speakin'..." he sighed, "Long story." The quartet exchanged confused looks... "Anyhow I tried to convince 'em ter join the cause— but I wasn't the only one trying to win 'em over..."

Ron asked quietly, "Death Eaters?"

Hagrid nodded grimly, adjusting the steak on his eye, "Tryin' to persuade 'em to join You-Know-Who."

"And...?" Harry said.

"Did they?" Iris finished.

Hagrid sighed heavily, "Don' know. I gave 'em Dumbledore's message; I 'spect some o' them'll                   remember he's friendly to 'em... I 'spect." He looked defeated, "Oh all right yeh can have it, yeh dozy dog..." Fang's plaintive whimmpering had finally gotten to his owner. The dog leaped up         as Hagrid tossed him the steak and began attacking it with relish.

Hagrid rose, walking over to the window. His voice was more mournful than Iris had ever heard it, "It's changin' out there. Jus' like last time... There's a storm comin', you four. And we all best be ready when she does."

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Daily Prophet

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN:
MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYING POINT" FOR OLD DEATH EATERS

The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.

Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.

"We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals and beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached."

Augustus Rookwood

Antonin Dolohov

Lachlan Travers

Thorfinn Rowle

Elias Jugson

Benedict Gibbon

Marcus Mulciber II

Rabastan Lestrange

Rodolfus Lestrange

Bellatrix Lestrange

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a/n

*cue the dramatic scary music*