Aftermath
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She wasn't breathing.
Iris was certain she had forgotten how as her senses blurred, so horrified by what was happening. The entire hall was so silent as they just simply stared at her, she was sure she would be able to hear a pin drop.
It seemed as though, all at once, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Moody, and the other two headmasters, plus Barty Crouch all rushed over, shuffling her towards the door. She numbly allowed them to push her into the room, hearing the sudden explosion of chatter begin as they exited the Great Hall. Dumbledore had his hands placed on both of her shoulders as he steered Iris into the smaller room. She stumbled forward, barely processing Harry standing in front of her, a look of sheer panic on his face as all the professors and headmasters began yelling back and forth behind them.
The other three champions were standing just a few steps away, looking extremely confused as their heads bounced around to the different people in the room trying to make sense of what was happening. Iris wrapped her arms around Harry tightly, clenching her eyes shut as she tried to hold back tears of fear and panic.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zees two are to compete also!"
Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.
"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Three Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed three champions - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"
He gave a short and nasty laugh.
This was exactly what Iris had feared. She wondered why it always had to be her and Harry who had horrible things happen to them. Couldn't they just have one normal uneventful year? She could feel Cedric's disbelieving gaze on her and avoided looking at him in fear of completely collapsing. Iris clung onto Harry's arm with an iron grip as the visiting headmasters expressed their great objections to the two competing.
"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave three champions. It is most injust."
"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools. "
"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff -- and that is, undoubtedly, Mr Potter as he so frequently drags his sister into his reckless schemes," said Snape piercingly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here -"
A flame of rage ignited within Iris as the professor badmouthed Harry. She was grateful when Dumbledore shut him down, feeling overwhelmed with such a violent flood of emotions running through her body.
"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.
Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at the Potter twins, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.
"Did either of you put your names into the Goblet of Fire?" he asked calmly.
"No," chorused Iris and Harry. Iris was very aware of everybody watching the two of them closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.
"Did you ask an older student to put them into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.
"No," said Harry vehemently, Iris echoing with a firm shake of her head.
"Ah, but of course zey are lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.
Iris could feel the gaze of Cedric burning into her back as she tried quite hard not to instinctively turn to him for some sort of comfort. Surveying the different people in the room, the teenage witch had almost never heard such nasty things coming from someone's thoughts as she did at that moment with the foreign company.
"The Potters could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"
"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.
"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Iris and Harry could not have crossed the line themselves, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that they did not persuade an older student to do it for them, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"
She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.
"The goblet of fire is an exceptionally powerful magical object, only an exceptionally powerful conjurer could have hoodwinked it. Magic way beyond the talents of a fourth-year," Professor Moody growled.
"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Mad-Eye," Karkaroff sneered at the man.
Moody retorted in a menacing voice, "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember..."
"That doesn't help, Alastor," Dumbledore cut in sharply, "We'll leave this to you, Barty."
The headmaster looked at Mr Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half-hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half-darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.
"The rules are absolute, the goblet of fire constitutes a binding magical contract. The Potters have no choice; they are, as of tonight, Tri-Wizard champions."
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The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, flickering dimly. Iris walked between Harry and Cedric, feeling utterly deflated as they started the trek back to their respective common rooms.
"So," said Cedric, looking across Iris at Harry with a slight smile. "We're playing against each other again!"
"I s'pose," said Harry.
Iris stared dully ahead, focusing on her footsteps. She really couldn't think of anything to say. The inside of her head seemed to be in complete disarray, as though her brain had been ransacked.
"So. . . tell me. . . " said Cedric as they reached the entrance hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. "How did you get your names in?"
That drew Iris' attention as her head slowly turned to look up at him, expressionless in confusion.
"We didn't," said Harry hesitantly, answering for the both of them as he carefully grabbed Iris' hand. "We didn't put them in. We were telling the truth."
"Ah. . . okay," said Cedric.
Harry could tell Cedric didn't believe him and glanced at Iris as a worried feeling enveloped him. She had resumed staring off into space, face expressionless as they walked through the halls. He had never seen her like this before; so... lifeless. He gently squeezed her hand, letting her know he was there. No response.
It wasn't until they reached the staircase that would take them up towards Gryffindor tower that Iris finally squeezed his hand back, stopping in place. He knew what she wanted and so, with a reluctant glance toward Cedric, Harry left the two young lovers.
Iris turned slowly to Cedric, not looking directly at him. There was an awkward tension and Iris absolutely hated it, they had never been this way with each other. Neither one was making eye contact, as they uncomfortably looked at anything else, shifting side to side.
Finally, Iris broke the silence, playing anxiously with her fingers, "I don't know what's gonna happen." She pushed back tears, feeling like she was choking on air, "I'm scared."
Cedric took a step closer to her reaching out to tuck some of her short hair back behind her ear, "It'll be okay."
"I'm beginning to think it'll never be okay." Iris frowned, "You know we didn't put our names in, right? You believe us?"
He didn't answer, just stared down at her with his eyebrows furrowed.
Iris' lips parted in disbelief and she took a step back, looking to the side and blinking rapidly as if to hold back the waiting flood of tears.
"You don't."
"It's just... you have to see how incredibly insane this is. You and Harry both being chosen when you aren't old enough," Cedric attempted to explain.
"And?" Iris prompted, getting frustrated.
Cedric sighed, "Well it just seems a little weird."
"What's weird!? The fact that I'm going to die in this tournament!?" Iris' voice got louder, "How could you possibly believe that Harry or I would want anything to do with this? You're being so unbelievably naive right now!"
Both of them were on fire at that moment, steaming with anger and confusion as they couldn't make sense of what was happening.
"I'm not being naive if you're --" He groaned, combing an exasperated hand through his short hair.
Iris' face contorted to shock, "A liar."
Cedric's face melted into guilt, "I didn't say it."
"You didn't have to."
The young girl was heartbroken. If her own boyfriend couldn't believe her, who would? Iris sniffed heavily, eyes flickering over his regretful face.
"I didn't mean it..." he tried.
Iris' lips pursed, "Yeah you did." She waited a moment as they just stared at each other, neither on speaking before she finally broke eye contact, looking at the floor, "I'm going to bed."
She quickly turned away, hastily stepping up the marble staircase leaving Cedric standing behind full of regret.
Iris turned once she got to the top of the steps, taking herself through a short corridor where she immediately broke down. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and tried to quiet her sobs the best she could as tears began pouring down her face. Iris leaned against one of the walls, the cold stone cooling down her warm body. The distraught girl stood there in that empty hall for a minute or two before she pulled herself together, wiping the wetness off her face with the sleeves of her Gryffindor robes.
Iris continued back to the common room, sniffing heavily the entire way until she finally stood outside the Fat Lady's portrait. She had barely noticed where her feet were carrying her. It was a surprise to see that she was not alone in her frame. A wizened witch was now sitting smugly beside the Fat Lady. Both she and the Fat Lady were looking down at her with the keenest interest.
"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady, "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champion, then?"
"Balderdash," said Iris dully.
"It most certainly isn't!" said the pale witch indignantly.
"No, no, Vi, it's the password," said the Fat Lady soothingly, and she swung forward on her hinges to let Iris into the common room.
The blast of noise that met Iris' ears when the portrait opened almost knocked her backwards. Next thing she knew, she was being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling.
"Ah, Iris! Finally come to join the party, had enough of Diggory then?" Fred bellowed over the loudness.
Iris noticed Harry sitting uncomfortably in one of the chairs before the large fireplace with a Gryffindor banner draped around his shoulders, surrounded by half the students in the room. Not wanting to be stuck in the crowded room any longer, Iris pushed through everyone, shoving off the hands that attempted to drag her back as she made it to the staircase up to the girl's dorms. She did not want to talk to anyone, and she most certainly did not want to listen to everyone begging to know how they got their names in.
Iris ran up the stairs and into her shared room, which was empty at that moment, slamming the wooden door behind her. She walked over to her bed and flopped face-first onto it, squishing her face into her pillow before letting out a frustrated scream. She turned her head to the side so she could breathe and ended up looking at what was sitting on her bedside table.
Cedric's birthday gift.
Inside of a black palm-sized box sat a shiny silver watch with stars circling around the face instead of hands.
With a glare, Iris angrily sat up and grabbed the box, popping the lid open. She stared down at the watch face, ticking along steadily, she removed it from the box and held tightly in her hands before launching it full force at the wall across from her. It hit its target with a shattering sound as the glass face broke and the watch fell to the floor sadly.
She slowly wandered over to the remains, sinking down to the floor beside the various pieces of glass scattered around as, once again, tears began streaming down her face. She wiped them away with the palms of her hands before breathing in deeply and gathering all the large pieces into a pile.
"Reparo." Iris waved her hand, palm down, over the watch and observed numbly as the pieces began knitting themselves back together until the watch was back to its unbroken state.
She picked up the gift holding it carefully in her hand as she watched the time tick by. Flipping it over, the pad of her thumb caressed over the words engraved onto the back. Her lips rolled inward as she turned around to sit down on the cold wooden flooring, leaning her back against the wall. She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand as she thought of how the next few months of her life were going to play out.
Iris knew she wasn't alone. Harry would be right there with her every torturous step of the way, and she was sure Sirius and Remus would believe them. Really though, the one her heart yearned for was Cedric.
She read the words over and over, never once doubting their truth as she felt all the pain that was left after their fight pounding around in her chest.
I will wear your name
on my heart,
till the end of time.
Love, Iris
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