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When word got out that Iris was up for potential Chaser, most were disgruntled by the choice of Katie's substitute. There was much muttering in the common room about the fact that Harry had now chosen both his best friend and now sister for the team. As Harry had endured much worse mutterings than this in his school career, he was not particularly bothered, but all the same, the pressure was increasing to provide a win in the upcoming match against Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, Iris knew that the whole House would forget that they had criticized Harry and swear that they had always known it was a great team. If they lost... well, the twins had endured worse mutterings.

Harry had no reason to regret his choice once he saw Iris fly that evening; she worked well with Ginny and Demelza. He couldn't believe his eyes at first. Honestly, he was surprised enough when his sister managed to get the broom in the air at all. It brought Iris no greater joy than to see Harry's eyes practically pop out of his head as she dodged and wove around the field during their scrimmage game. The Beaters, Peakes and Coote, were getting better all the time. Somehow, the only problem was Ron.

Harry had known all along that Ron was an inconsistent player who suffered from nerves and a lack of confidence, and unfortunately, the looming prospect of the opening game of the season seemed to have brought out all his old insecurities. After letting in half a dozen goals, most of them scored by Ginny, his technique became wilder and wilder, until he finally punched an oncoming Demelza Robins in the mouth.

Iris gasped in both horror and mild disgust, quickly flying towards the girl spiraling toward the ground— she had nearly forgotten how gruesome the game could be sometimes.

Landing with Iris next to Demelza and examining her fat lip, Ginny said angrily, "You prat, Ron, look at the state of her!"

"I can fix that," said Harry, landing beside the three girls, pointing his wand at Demelza's mouth, and saying "Episkey."

"And Ginny, don't call Ron a prat, you're not the Captain of this team —"

"Well, you seemed too busy to call him a prat and I thought someone should —"

Iris choked on a laugh.

Practice ended rather soon after that, with Harry officially welcoming her to the team, accompanied by a heavy dose of shock and lingering disbelief that Iris actually knew what she was doing.

Ron was so deep in the dumps he could barely get out a congratulations as the three of them headed back toward the castle. Harry kept up a relentless flow of encouragement all the way back, and by the time they reached the second floor, Ron was looking marginally more cheerful. However, when Iris pushed open the tapestry to take their usual shortcut up to Gryffindor Tower, they found themselves looking at Dean and Ginny, who were locked in a close embrace and kissing fiercely as though glued together.

"Woah!" she exclaimed, immediately averting her gaze to anywhere else.

Suffice it to say, Ron was not pleased.

Iris couldn't help but notice Harry didn't seem too happy either... she had difficulty hiding her smirk at that. She eventually made it back to the dormitory after enduring an uncomfortably heated argument between the Weasley siblings. It almost reminded her of Harry when she and Cedric first began dating.

Just a week or so later, with a practice every night, the Quidditch match was upon them. Breakfast was the usual excitable affair; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. Iris glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky: a good omen.

The Gryffindor table, a solid mass of red and gold, cheered as Iris and the boys approached. Iris' cheeks flushed in embarrassment; Harry grinned and waved; Ron grimaced weakly and shook his head.

"I feel sick," Ron said as they sat.

"Tea?" Harry asked him. "Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"

"Anything," said Ron glumly, taking a moody bite of toast.

A few minutes later Hermione joined them at the table."How are you all feeling?" she asked tentatively, her eyes flickering mostly to Ron.

Iris herself kept glancing at the boy, starting to feel his nervousness wearing off on her. Suddenly, her stomach was doing flips. The eggs on her plate no longer looked appetizing.

"Fine," said Harry, who was concentrating on handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up."

Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply.

"Don't drink that, Ron!"

All three of them looked up at her.

"Why not?" said Ron.

Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes. Iris was looking between them, sure she had missed something dramatic.

"Liquid Luck?" Hermione hissed lowly at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, stowing the little bottle hastily in his pocket.

Iris's jaw dropped. She knew her brother was a rule breaker, but this was next-level.

Realisation dawned on Ron, and he gave the juice a long look before lifting it back to his lips and downing it in two gulps.

Hermione looked scandalised. She muttered angrily at Harry, "You could be expelled for that."

Iris swore she saw a flicker of mischief behind her brother's eyes, and as she stared at him a moment longer, her face slowly broke out in a grin. Her brother was a fraud, but perhaps he was also a secret genius all this time..? No, Iris thought, that was going too far... Certainly a creative play, though.

She reached over and discreetly held her hand out for a high-five. Harry understood she got his placebo plan and clapped her hand, forcing his smile back. Hermione glared at Iris.

They walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold; the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had taken sides too: Amidst all the yelling and clapping, Iris could distinctly hear the roar of Luna Lovegood's famous lion-topped hat.

The Gryffindor team stepped up to Madam Hooch, the referee, who was standing ready to release the balls from the crate. Iris felt nauseous, suddenly starting to regret her decision. All those months playing with Cedric in the Limbo did not prepare her to have an audience of hundreds eyeing her every move.

"Captains shake hands," Hooch said, and Harry had his hand crushed by the new Slytherin Captain, Urquhart. "Mount your brooms. On the whistle...three... two... one..."

The whistle sounded, Iris and the others kicked off hard from the frozen ground, and they were away.

Then a voice that was jarringly different to the usual commentator's started up.

"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patchy performance as Keeper at tryouts, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help..."

These words were greeted with jeers and applause from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Iris craned around on her broom to look toward the commentator's podium. A tall, skinny blond boy with an upturned nose was standing there, talking into the magical megaphone that had once been Lee Jordan's; Iris recognized Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff player whom she wholly disliked. She immediately groaned in distaste.

"Speaking of Captain Potter's close personal relationships— we have, making her debut after what some would call a really long nap, Potter's own sister." Iris rolled her eyes. "Let's hope she can fly better than she can swim, or we're gonna be in for a long game, folks."

Iris scoffed, glaring at him.

"Oh, and here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal, it's Urquhart streaking down the pitch and —"

Iris' stomach turned over as she chased after him, weaving parallel with Ginny.

"— Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose..."

It seemed as though Gryffindor could do no wrong. Again and again they scored, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Ron saved goals with apparent ease. He was actually smiling now. Back and forth across the pitch, Iris, Ginny, and Demelza moved as one unit, tossing the Quaffle between themselves with ease.

"And I think Harper of Slytherin's seen the Snitch!" said Zacharias Smith through his megaphone. "Yes, he's certainly seen something Potter hasn't!"

Iris' head whipped around to her brother, who, in fact, was not going after the Snitch. He spurred into action faster than she could blink, and all of a sudden, he was on Harper's tail. It looked like he wasn't going to have it, and then, Harry shouted something at Harper, causing him to do a double-take; he fumbled the Snitch, let it slip through his fingers, and shot right past it. Harry made a great swipe for the tiny, fluttering ball and caught it.

"YES!" Iris yelled.

Wheeling around, Harry hurtled back toward the ground, the Snitch held high in his hand. As the crowd realized what had happened, a great shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that signalled the end of the game.

"Party up in the common room!" yelled Dean exuberantly, "C'mon!"

The group hurriedly changed out of their uniforms and gleefully made their way back to the castle for the Gryffindor celebration party, which was in full swing when Iris, Harry, and Ron arrived. Renewed cheers and clapping greeted their appearance, and they were soon surrounded by a mob of people congratulating them.

Iris squeezed her way through the crowd, ditching her brother as he became surrounded by a group of girls, all fluttering their eyelashes at him.

Hands clapped her back as she moved across the room, grins and cheers taking over her eyesight. Iris found herself at the drink table soon enough.

It had been a while since the scorch of firewhisky touched her throat, but as she popped the cap off of her bottle, she found the memory of the taste flooding right back in.

Iris...

She looked up. It was no ordinary voice calling her name, it was distant, quiet... like a whisper in the wind. No one around her was the speaker, they were all lost in their own worlds as wizard rock blared throughout the room.

Iris cautiously brought the bottle to her lips, deciding to ignore the random call. Just as she was tilting it back, though, another whisper sliced through her like venom hissing in her ears.

Iris—

The girl whipped around, looking for the source to no avail. No one was paying her any mind. Iris huffed and, face furrowed in confusion and annoyance, finally took a large swig of the drink. It went down easily, and the girl exhaled in satisfaction. Her head was buzzing with voices, and every thought of each student surrounding her traveled in and out of her mind. There were too many to decipher any real meaning from these thoughts, all blurring into one loud hive in the pocket of her brain. Iris was all too happy to shut it off, even if only temporarily.

Deep down she knew it was wrong, but she just didn't care anymore. The drinks kept coming as she let the world slip away, and suddenly it was quiet.

The bass of the music synced up with her heartbeat as Iris shuffled her way around the Common Room. Every few steps, she'd lose her footing before regaining it and stumbling forward. She wove in and out of groups in the mob of students still congratulating her, many saying they didn't think she had it in her. Even drunk, Iris could tell which boys took a particular interest in her.

She eventually landed in an armchair by the large stone fireplace, staring at her hand. It held the glass bottle containing her vice, but her flesh itself was what she truly cared about. The black stain of death seemed to suck all color from her arm. It would serve as a reminder for the rest of her life of the things she couldn't have... and the things she shouldn't. Iris inspected it, emotionless.

"You flew a good game out there today, Potter."

Iris looked up to see the unfortunately handsome face of Cormac McLaggen smizing down at her, drink in hand.

"...Thanks," she hesitated to say.

"A win like that deserves to be celebrated." He leaned in closer to her and lowered his voice, "So what do you say you come dance with me." He finished it with a wink.

Now ordinarily, Iris would have shuddered with disgust at the gesture, let alone the thought of dancing with McLaggen, but she was well past rational thinking.

She held her left hand out for Cormac to grab, which he did willingly, helping her out of the chair and into the crowd. Iris was stumbling through the people, the boy leading her not all that steady either. This became a problem when one of the people she stumbled directly into was her brother.

"Iris?" Harry said, confused. He glanced at McLaggen and then back to her, noticing how she could barely stand without tipping. "Are you drunk?"

"No," Iris tried, her feet wobbling.

Harry's eyes darkened as they shifted to Cormac.

The older boy put his hands up in defense, "Look mate, we're just gonna dance." A smirk flickered across his face.

"I think you'd better find someone else to dance with, McLaggen," Harry said very seriously.

"Harry—"

He didn't let Iris get another slurred word in, he grabbed her arm and began dragging her away. Once he got her out of the crowd, she ripped her arm back.

"What's your damage?" Iris glared, annoyed.

"My—! My damage?" Harry said incredulously, "It's McLaggen!" he exclaimed in disgust. "You could pick literally anyone— he's snogged at least half the girls at this school."

Iris rolled her eyes, "Oh, so if I was snogging another guy you wouldn't care? Yeah, right." She scoffed, "You and Ron both need to keep your noses out of your sister's business," she spat.

Harry sighed exasperated, "Fine." He took the firewhisky bottle out of her hand and took a swig. "How long have you been drinking?"

"Couple hours."

"Not what I meant."

Iris sighed and leaned her back against the nearby wall. "Since Cedric died."

Harry stared at her. Sometimes he wondered if he really knew his sister as well as he thought. She had so many secrets over the years, and each time a new one came out it shocked him just as much.

The twins' attention was caught by a sudden loud cheer across the room. Iris laughed when she peered through the heads of their classmates. Tangled together were Ron and Lavender, engaged in some serious necking.

"Not gonna stop him are you?" Iris teased Harry.

He was grinning at the sight of his best friend.

Iris snatched the firewhisky back out of her twin's hand and downed the rest of it. Harry shook his head at her, hiding a smile.

"You're gonna go to bed now, right?"

Iris gave him a look. "My dear brother, I'm just getting started."

She stuck her hand up in the air, and moments later, a glass bottle came flying into it from across the room, the force of catching it making her stumble. She shoved it into Harry's hands and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Bottom's up."

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i support women's rights and women's wrongs

can we do a pulse check here—  it's been a while since i've posted consistently and i'm really curious who's reading these days, so if you could, drop a comment and say hi! or lmk something you're looking forward to or hoping for in upcoming chapters, just anything to tell me you're here

as always, i'm so appreciative of your reading this story, looking forward to what's next!