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July 12th, 1995
Paris, France

He had been dead for just two and a half weeks and yet, to Iris, it had felt like a lifetime. She had been attempting to nurse her broken heart in that time, but the sensation of a cold hand wrapped around it took hold quickly and just wouldn't shake.

Iris Potter had been travelling for only a few days, and she knew where she was headed, but first, she needed some help.

That was how the young witch found herself sitting at a small round table outside on the patio of a quaint cafe in the heart of the City of Love. Across from Iris sat someone that she didn't expect to be meeting with, but someone who could get her what she needed.

"Are you sure you want to do to zis?"

Iris sighed, gazing out at the sunny, late-afternoon streets. She could see the top of the Eiffel Tower peeking over the top of a nearby building from where it loomed in the distance. "I have to, Fleur. I need to do this."

The older platinum blonde witch nodded sadly before reaching into her small purse and pulling out a piece of parchment. She leaned forward in her chair, "I asked around... you can find what you are looking for 'ere."

Fleur held out the bit of parchment to Iris. Written in a neat, loopy, scrawl was an address located a few streets away.

Iris gave Fleur a small pained smile, her heartbeat picking up.

The blonde girl gently reached out and placed her hand over Iris', "I am so sorry for your loss... good luck."

They went their separate ways after that, Iris walking on through the crowded streets until she finally reached her destination. She stood in front of a small shop that looked lost in the loud crowd that surrounded it, though Iris was sure it was meant to be that way. There weren't any distinguishing features to the hole in the wall shop beside a single door and window. A small sign was hung on the door that said in a billowing font, Madame Rousseau's.

As Iris stared at the door, debating whether or not to go in, she was suddenly hit in the shoulder by someone walking into her. Jostled out of her thoughts, Iris turned quickly to the person who had walked into her.

He was a boy around her age with dark hair. His lips were pulled up in a slight smirk, eyes lit with amusement as he spoke, continuing to walk past her, "Sorry about that, love."

Iris didn't linger any longer, knocked out of her internal decision-making she took the last few steps up to the small door and opened it.

Inside the shop was quite different from the exterior of the building. The walls were dark blue and purple, draped with an assortment of fabrics in unique colours and textures. There were many strange objects lying around on shelves and petite tables, giving the small room a cluttered look. There was an archway at the back of the room covered in a beaded curtain.

The moment Iris had stepped into the room, a strong calming scent of rosemary and lavender had gone through her senses. Though the room was empty, Iris could feel the presence of two people in the back room.

She walked around the room, waiting, observing the many things decorating the interior. Iris noticed that resting on a pedestal in one of the corners was a Pensieve. On the back wall was a portrait of a young girl, probably in her late teens, dressed in flowing periwinkle robes. As she looked at the painting, Iris realised that the girl was moving, smiling kindly at her. There were a few cauldrons lying around, some actually with something brewing within them, and a shelf full of miniature bottles with varying potions inside. Hanging next to the door was a small Ravenclaw banner, surprising Iris. On another one of the walls was what looked like a decorative rug and Iris noted with interest that every so often it would ripple as if wishing to fly off the wall. There were remembralls, secrecy sensors, sneakoscopes, and many other magical objects Iris recognized along with a plethora of books.

She had been in there for just a few minutes before she heard the voices of the two people in the back coming closer. Then, through the beaded curtain emerged two women. Both were beautiful, one with long red hair wearing normal muggle clothing and the other with dark curly hair with parts woven into intricate braids that pulled her hair back from her face. This woman was dressed practically opposite to the other, draped in robes similar to that of the portrait on the wall, though her's were a shade of magenta. Iris could tell immediately that she was a witch.

"Thank you, Madame Rousseau," the red-haired lady said kindly.

Madame Rousseau smiled gratefully at the woman, "Of course, dear."

With a swift goodbye, the redhead turned to the door and made her way out of the shop. On her way, she made eye contact with Iris. An uncomfortable feeling rose within Iris as she felt like the woman's gaze was searching her entire soul. At the same time, something was so unsettlingly familiar about her. In no time though she was gone.

Madame Rousseau was inspecting Iris carefully. The beautiful woman looked at her gently, asking, "You've lost someone, haven't you?"

Iris shifted on her feet, looking back into the witch's eyes, "I was told you could help me."

The older woman smiled sadly, nodding, "I help many people. Come with me."

Madame Rousseau led Iris into the back room, which was similarly decorated to the front, though this one had a large round table in the middle of the room with a crystal ball sitting on top of it. She took a seat at the table and gestured for Iris to do the same.

"I do many things, dear one," The witch began explaining, "Fortune telling is one of my most popular professions, however... communicating with the dead has always been a specific talent of mine."

Iris listened, her heart pounding in her chest.

Madame Rousseau smiled warmly, "I enjoy helping people find their closure. Witches and wizards come to me often, as well as the occasional muggle, wishing to speak to lost ones that they didn't get the chance to say goodbye to." Her empathetic chocolate brown eyes pierced Iris', "I can see it in you, in your eyes... you've lost someone recently."

Iris looked down into her lap, "My boyfriend... he— he died last month." She could feel tears starting to form in her eyes.

"It is okay to cry," Madame Rousseau assured her softly, "I can summon his spirit. It isn't permanent, he will appear as an apparition, sort of like one of the ghosts at Hogwarts. The magic won't last long but you'll have roughly three minutes to talk."

Iris was listening carefully and nodded along. Madame Rousseau then asked for her hand, "I need you to focus on your boyfriend, close your eyes, picture him vividly in your mind."

Iris did as she asked and soon the older witch was muttering a spell to herself. The teenage girl thought of Cedric, of his smile and his laugh, the feeling of him holding her in his arms.

"Iris."

Madame Rousseau had stopped talking.

Iris felt like she had been stabbed in the chest at his voice. Her eyes fluttered open. Her body immediately broke down into sobs, and as she released Madame Rousseau's hand, the woman quietly left the room.

Before her stood Cedric.

"Don't cry, Iris, I'm right here."

Iris stood shakily, tears flowing in waterfalls down her face. Her hand reached up as if to touch him but she retracted it, knowing it wouldn't work.

"I miss you so much," she sobbed.

"I know," Cedric said, his voice sounding strained and full of sorrow.

She stared at his face, taking in every detail through her watery eyes. It was surreal having him in front of her after the last few weeks of mourning. It made her heart ache to see him look at her with the same adoration in his eyes as when he was alive.

Iris inhaled heavily, "I don't know how I'm supposed to go on after this... now that you're— gone," she sobbed, "Everything is different and horrible and now Voldemort is back and Harry probably hates me and I keep ignoring his letters and now that I've left, everyone else keeps sending me letters asking where I am and—"

Cedric cut off her rambling as her breathing got quicker and quicker, the tears still pouring, "Iris— Iris, you'll be alright." His eyes were wet now too, "You are the strongest person I have ever met and you will get through this. I am so sorry that I won't be there with you, but you will make it."

She looked at him sadly through tear-filled eyes, "I will always love you."

"And I will always love you..." He wiped his eyes, "Iris I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise me that you'll move on. I want you to be happy... to have everything you ever dreamed of. So promise me that you'll make the most of your life."

More tears rolled down Iris' rosy cheeks and she took a shaky breath, "I— I promise."

Cedric nodded, satisfied. He reached his ghostly hand up towards the side of her face and Iris let her eyes shut as he whispered, "I love you."

When they opened he was gone.

"I love you too."

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Iris had left quickly after, giving Madame Rousseau a few Galleons even though she insisted it wasn't necessary. The sun was almost beneath the horizon at that point, the lights of Paris lighting up around her as she wandered down the street. She let her feet take her, her mind drifting as she walked with no destination.

When only the moon was in the sky, Iris finally sat down. She was sitting on a metal park bench on the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower. The sight of it at night was magnificent but Iris was too busy lost within herself to notice as she instead looked to the grass.

A tiny piece of her had been repaired after talking to Cedric, but she was still broken.

She hadn't told Harry but she had been having nightmares every single night since that one in the graveyard. Watching over and over as Cedric was murdered before her eyes, seeing Voldemort be reborn and the strangest visions of a glowing glass orb.

Iris had watched each day as Harry, too, got worse and worse but while Iris was sad, Harry was angry. He would get even madder every time Ron, Hermione, or either of their godfathers sent a letter with absolutely no helpful information. Iris could admit that she was on edge too, frustrated with the lack of communication. She felt trapped, isolated, and useless. So she decided to stop sitting still, and she left.

Iris knew that Harry would be mad at her, but if she had spent any longer in that house she would have gone crazy. Iris used to be driven by kindness and love but now she felt like that had been swallowed up by her pain, anger, and grief.

She sat on the bench waiting and thinking of how she could possibly move on after everything that had happened. Iris knew one thing though, and that was that she would do anything in her power to stop Voldemort.

After a while, a person approached from behind the bench where she was sitting and walked around it, taking a seat next to her. They were both silent for a moment before Iris spoke.

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

"I do hope I haven't kept you waiting for too long, my dear Iris," said Dumbledore.

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teehee y'all this isn't even the best part yet

i'm really happy with this chapter though so I hope you guys enjoyed it! I'd love to hear any theories or anything about what you guys think is coming in this story! and I'd also be willing to hear any requests for scenes or characters you want more content with!

tomorrow's my birthday so I'm not sure if I'll have a chapter ready to post or not, but I'll try to get the next chapter out asap regardless!

I hope you all are doing well! ❤️