There had been a point in Iris' life where May had been her favourite month. And until recently it had remained that way. However now, now that everything had changed it was a complete different story and as May became a month she dreaded so greatly she almost forgot what it was like to even enjoy it. Lavender had declared the moment that they had turned 8 that May was the month of celebrating the twins. With the 16th being everyone's favourite day of the year, a unofficial national holiday. And Iris, adoring her barely younger twin, would agree never being able to refuse Lavender. Not when it was as harmless as wanting to make a spectacle out of your birthday. 

And it was probably this tradition, this routine that Iris had for nearly 10 years breaking on may 2nd 1998 which ruined the entire month for the soon to be 20 year old. That they would never get around to celebrate their 18th together that ruined a lot of things for Iris. 

May also was the worst month of the year because of the events which occurred on May 2nd 1998. The previous year as the anniversary approached Iris had been plagued by a reoccurring nightmare in the days prior. And this year it would appear no different. As from the 26th April the young witch had not slept a full night. As for at least one time during the night would she be awoken harshly, her mind foggy as she could not distinguish from the dream and the reality of which surrounded her. And it was probably a little bold to have called it a dream, asserting to the fact that it was not a real event of which plagued her mind late at night. For it was a memory of which battered at the time of the day of which Iris was supposed to be at rest at peace. But here she was knowing that until the day she followed into the veil after her sister that she would not be at peace from these memories. 

It had been the same moment over and over again, the same 10 or 15 minutes, maximum, from that fatal day. The minutes of which would change her life as she knew it forever. 

Iris would never have claimed to have been an awfully cautious witch, she frequented the medical wing from small injuries she had incurred either during the lessons or practice of the magic she had been taught during class, to other not so dignified moments when the magical stairs won and she had to either dash to avoid being stuck in the middle of the castle not sure where she was going to end up. Therefore, when there was such a battle against the two sides of the wizarding war taking part in the boarding school she currently resided in, it should be no shock that Iris would at some point end up injured. It was in her nature, a natural fact that would happen regardless of how cautious she was attempting to be. Or how well her sister and friends looked out for her. 

Therefore, her sitting on the steps in the great hall she had once sat on watching people submit their names into the goblet of fire, receiving medical attention for the rather large gash she had acquired on her forehead was no surprise. It was just a known factor happening just as it was expected to. And as the healer took their time to gently clean the cut which was much deeper than initially thought Iris scanned the room for anyone she recognised. But the person she was desperately looking for was her little sister. But Iris could not easily see Lavender sat anywhere in the room. An indication that she had yet to receive medical attention but also that she was still out there somewhere on the battle field. Under severe danger, and the protective instinct Iris had as the older sister was in full force. 

And she became angsty the longer the healer was taking to patch her up. The cut was not life threatening and would likely heal on its own as long as it was cleaned correctly. Therefore she forced the healer to finish the least amount of attention that Iris' very minimal injury required as she was filled with an overwhelming sense that something was wrong. And there was one thing that Iris had come to learn over the years, and that was that her gut was pretty reliable. If it was telling her there was something wrong it was most likely correct. 

And her answer would come in just moments after she had been left alone by the healer, temporarily discharged from their care. A face she would never recall from that day. For the moment she stood did two people come in carrying someone on a stretcher. Someone who had a very familiar head of  brown curls. Her stomach dropped as she realised that unease, that feeling of doom that had been following her around for a little while now was because of this. 

It was within an instant that Iris was on her feet and stood not too far from the two men who held the stretcher she confirmed, almost instantly upon being closer, held her younger sister. Lavender was already gone by the time she had been brought inside that much was clear and it was obvious as to how she passed away. The large rips down her face and the side of her body could have only come from one person. The teeth marks along side noted that Lavender had come across Fenrir Greyback and had lost the fight. 

It would be the second she looked into her sisters eyes, eyes that no longer held the life she was so used to staring back at her that Iris would be violently awoken back into the present time. 

And that morning had been no different as Iris awoke only this time her emotions seemed even more raised than they normally did. She had never felt this so traumatised  when she awoke in the morning, normally her emotions were heightened and she needed to ground herself and she would return to the present. But this morning as she sat up in the bed she watched as the room around her morphed. And she sat on the floor in the middle of the grand hall. A stretcher placed down in front of her. And as tears gathered in her eyes Iris reached a hand out into the thin air in an desperate attempt to try to touch the stretcher. Though her hand would continue to pass through the air as her brain warped the reality around her. 

A gentle hand was placed upon her shoulder, gentle but enough to snap her mind from the reality it had created and to slam her back into the room. Back to the fact that she sit in bed with the sun barely rising through the slightly open curtains. Back to the cold room and the warm figure which sat beside her, her actions most likely to have knocked them awake. 

"Iris, love follow my breathing its okay. In count to four and out count to six. In and Out. That's it you're doing great beautiful." And with those words she turned her head away from the flickering memory and towards the ginger haired man who seemed so devoted to her in that moment. 

"George?" Her voice broke as she spoke and he took both of her hands before gently pressing his forehead to her own. 

"It's okay Iris. You're with me in our flat in Diagon Alley. You're not there anymore. I'm sorry Gorgeous" He mumbled and Iris let herself cry as the emotions passed through her. 

"I'm sorry."

"Never be sorry Iris. Let's get some more sleep. We'll try again in a couple hours." George's smile did not reach his own eyes, as he too worked through the emotions of the day. But knowing that they each had someone by their side this year who was going through the same emotions was a comfort of which they had not felt the year prior. 

And a few hours later they did try again. That was to get up out of bed. Despite every emotion making it feel as though this was the last thing they could do, both George and Iris fought through it in an attempt to get up for the day. Anything to not let the grief overpower them. Though it was a much harder statement to do than to just think. 

Iris met George that morning in the kitchen, having taken just a little longer than he did to get ready a familiar plastic purple butterfly pinned in either side of her hair not holding anything back but to accessorise in the way they had always been worn. George perched over the kitchen counter an invite in front of him as he obviously mullered over what the invite was regarding. And as Iris approached she saw the overly familiar invite and knew why he had it out. There was still time for them to change their minds to attend but Iris knew neither would do so. 

"Please tell me you're not reconsidering?" Iris tried not to sound judgemental as she approached but this was a massive failure. Though she got a scoff in return and an outstretched mug in her direction. 

"Went back up to two sugars, thought you wouldn't mind today of all days." George replied avoiding the original comment. Iris took a big breath in before reconsidering her original statement. 

"If you want to go George I won't stop you. I just can't go myself." Iris tried to be a little more open and kinder about her words, whilst still sticking to her own opinion and decision she had made the moment the invite had entered their letterbox. 

"It's going to be a very long time until I willingly walk through those doors again." George spoke before he turned towards Iris to look at her properly. "I would have attended this stupid thing if they had held it literally anywhere else." And Iris was happy he still shared the same sentiment as she did. 

"Honestly, who came up with the bright idea to host a remembrance party there of all places. Low blow." Iris mumbled her aggravation over the entire subject painfully obvious.

"Harry who else. Just because his happy memories outshine the bad doesn't meant the same for anyone else."

"Something scary, dangerous and deadly occurred for him every year he was there he became immune." Iris added to the statement as the pair shared a look before simultaneously taking a sip from their mugs. George raised an eyebrow as to challenge her to add something else to her statement. 

"Little speckled prat." Iris did add as he expected and George let out a true laugh at her words. And for a moment as they both stood there Iris responding to his laughter with her own, just a very small moment they both felt a little bit of the weight of the day lifting from their shoulders. Until it came crashing back down. 

The pair moved their way to the sofa where the tv was already set to the muggle channels from the night beforehand. Done on purpose as to avoid absolutely anything that was a sore reminder of the anniversary of today the pair intended to get through it as much as possible before turning in for an early night to sleep the rest of the day away. And for a few hours there was a bliss astray focused on films of which George had never seen considering his raising as a very non muggle wizarding family. And as Iris attempted to explain just the bare minimum of what was Disney to the older man she finally caught onto the t-shirt of which he was wearing. It was once again not one of his own, the twins fashion had been incredibly different when they were not trying to dress identical. And it was clear as day to her that it had not been one the man had picked out for himself. George had always preferred the lighter and brighter colours and had never really enjoyed wearing stripes but did enjoy a bold pattern. And this black and red striped t-shirt was defiantly not one he had brought for himself. And Iris had to wind him up just a little bit about it. 

"Nice shirt."

"Thanks."

"Fred had a much better taste in fashion than you do." Iris tested not sure if she was overstepping just a little bit but the mock look of horror she got back was more than enough evidence that it was okay.

"Ooh you better take that back."

"Or what Weasley?" George did not reply to her words with his own, rather he soon began to tickle Iris. And Iris was not exactly the most ticklish but she did have one spot, one spot just above her elbow which was particularly ticklish. And that was the spot of which George had focused most of his attack on though he had not avoided her waist a close second. 

"Okay I take it back, I take it back." Iris gave in a few minutes later and as the pair locked eyes she knew that this year. This year was going to be easier. 

And as she set the table for four that night knowing that only two would be eating, she realised that once again things in her life were becoming easier with George Weasley beside her.