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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."

"I came on the Knight Bus," said Hermione airily, pulling off her jacket before Iris had time to speak. "Dumbledore told me what had happened first thing this morning, but I had to wait for term to end officially before setting off. Umbridge is already livid that you lot disappeared right under her nose, even though Dumbledore told her Mr Weasley was in St. Mungo's, and he'd given you all permission to visit. So..."

She trailed off, taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside Iris, waiting for her to talk. Iris took a painful deep breath as she prepared herself to finally tell one of her best friends about a huge part of her life. It was too hard living in her secrets, she needed someone else besides Sirius to know.

"Hermione... I need to tell you something... yesterday, I—"

She got no further in her sentence before her jaw suddenly clenched, her eyes bugging out as her hands shot to either side of her head, grabbing desperately as an excruciating pain shot through her head. Iris squeaked out a smothered shout of agony. Hermione was speaking rapidly but Iris couldn't understand a word coming out of her mouth.

"No," hissed a feminine voice in her ear.

Iris, through all her pain, understood the message plainly: she was not to tell anyone about the Shielded.

And just like that, the pain was gone as soon as it came. Iris gasped for breath, her vision suddenly reeling in colour at the release. Her lungs were screaming as she rolled over to her side, her hands dropping their clutch from her head to the silk sheets beneath her.

"I'm getting Sirius!" Hermione said, her voice full of concern.

"No," Iris breathed, grabbing Hermione's hand, "I'm okay, just a really bad migraine."

She hated lying, and her best friend did not look convinced, but Iris knew the warning would not remain just a warning if she opened her mouth again. Her pain and discomfort would have to be a solo endeavour.

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Late that night, Sirius was the last person awake and was in his bedroom, reading, when his attention was drawn by the sound of screaming. He rolled his eyes angrily, getting up from his desk with a huff to go tell his mother's portrait to shut up. He thought someone must've walked past and stirred her cranky likeness from sleep. As soon as he stepped into the corridor outside his bedroom, however, he realised that the screaming was coming from a very different place in the house. His heart lurched in his chest as he froze for only a second to confirm his suspicions— it was coming from Iris' room. Wasting no time, Sirius raced down the hall toward his goddaughter's bedroom.

He threw the door open without hesitation, taking just a moment to observe the scene. No one else was in the room beside Iris, who was in bed tossing and turning horribly, screaming like she was in the worst pain of her life.

The blood had drained from his face as he ran over to her, panic coursing through him as he tried to figure out what to do. Sirius carefully grabbed her arms, attempting to stop her thrashing. He winced as her screams penetrated his ears from so close. Her face was contorted in obvious pain and a few stray tears rolled down her flushed cheeks.

"Iris!" Sirius said firmly, attempting to wake her. He vaguely remembered something about not waking people when they were having nightmares, but he had never seen anyone having a nightmare this bad. He went on autopilot, desperate to end her suffering.

She was unresponsive to his calls, heaving and sobbing between her screams, continuing her thrash in Sirius' arms.

"Iris?" A voice said at the door. Sirius turned his head to see Harry standing in the doorframe looking horrified by what was happening before him. "What's wrong with her?" he asked Sirius frantically, rushing over to the other side of the bed. Sirius hadn't realised, but Harry was the only other person in the house awake, and he had been walking up the stairs about to go to bed when he heard the screams.

The older wizard didn't even know how to answer Harry's question.

Suddenly, with no warning, Iris shot straight up, screaming one last time as her eyes finally flew open. She was frantically trying to shake Harry and Sirius' arms off of herself, heaving loudly and staring forward incomprehensively.

"Iris!" Harry called, trying to get her to calm down, "Iris, it's okay— it's Harry."

She didn't respond, but her body settled to a halt, no longer twisting and turning.

The boys exchanged a look before Harry prodded again, "Iris?"

She flinched at the sound. It seemed to snap her back though, and she turned to her brother, eyes glistening with tears. Iris looked relieved at the sight of him and slowly collapsed back into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shaking body, a deep frown pulling at his lips.

After a moment of silence that neither Sirius nor Harry wanted to fill, Iris whispered almost inaudibly.

"I was in the graveyard..." Harry tensed, "The— the curse... he was torturing me all over again," There was a haunted look in her hazel eyes that scared Sirius, "It was never-ending... worse than when he actually did it."

"You're okay now," Sirius said, trying not to get choked up, "You're safe with us, and I won't let him hurt you again."

Iris shuddered, nodding as she twisted Harry's shirt in her hands. She looked even sicker than she had earlier that day.

"Will you stay with me? I— I don't want to be alone."

Both boys agreed without hesitation. The three of them lay down on her bed, Iris in the middle of them. Iris' eyes were wide open. Every time they closed for too long they shot back open with a jolt, the sensation of the cruciatus curse still imprinted on her. She clutched her brother and godfather's hands like a lifeline keeping her stable.

Adding onto the full body shivers she had, Iris was still dealing with the after-effects of her overexertion at St. Mungos. Her brain felt like it was bending and during a particularly bad bout of pain convening in her head, Iris squeezed her twin's hand harder than usual causing him to turn his head over.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

Iris shook her head, her face scrunching unpleasantly. Harry squeezed her hand back gently, trying his best to provide comfort even when he didn't even know what was wrong with his sister.

When the pain passed and Iris was able to speak, she said quietly, "I can remember everything... every detail of that night... I'll never be able to forget it."

Harry frowned, his green eyes ghosting over Iris' tormented face, "I know... me neither."

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sorry for not updating in forever, writer's block was holding me hostage and it had a knife