Chapter Text
Anyone who knew the twins would say that Iris was vastly different from her brother. Iris was the only one who inherited their mothers bright, fiery hair. The twins were a carbon copy of each of their parents, with Hadrian having the exception of having green eyes like his mother.
Iris was careful, calculated and honed by patience and careful teachings, while Hadrian was haphazard, honed by fame of being the golden boy. Despite all of this, Iris wouldn't change her brother for the world. She loved him, and her family, despite all of their flaws. However, this did not stop a bitterness that spread in her chest when they both received their Hogwarts letter, and Lily was the only one to acknowledge Iris- briefly- before moving onto her brother.
Iris and Hadrian spent their days at the burrow, with Iris spending her time with the twins and Percy, while Hadrian sought out and bonded with Ron.
It was the night of having received their Hogwarts letter, and the kids were all over at the burrow. Iris sat tucked between the twins, one of her mothers rune notebooks open on her lap as she studied them. Hadrian was off somewhere with Ron, probably sneaking up on the adults to do pranks, but Iris was content right where she was.
“You have a talent for that.” Percy blurts out one day, before his ears turn red and he stutters out. “The runes, I mean,” At her confused glance.
Iris nodded, twirling her quill as she did so. The twins glanced at each other at her silent response, knowing something was on her mind.
“You seem bothered,” George spoke up, not really elaborating on how he knew. Fred nodded in agreement, moving to slide his arm over her shoulder with the ease of any 12-year-old. Iris hesitated, a brief strained smile crossing her face before she frowned.
“It’s just- well- I got a letter too. But they’re celebrating him- mom’s the only one who told me congrats. A-And I mean, she gave me new books and stuff,” Iris quickly added to the end of her sentence, as if she was afraid they would believe she was grateful.
“You have a right, Iris, they are always celebrating every little achievement, but don't worry. We’re here,” Percy spoke up, Fred and George nodding in agreement with his words. Iris briefly felt tears prick her eyes, before she took a deep breath. She sat her book down, smuggling into Fred’s side as she put her feet on George's lap.
“I hope I'm in the same house as you guys,” Iris whispered, The three boys smiled to themselves,
“You will be.” George reassured as Fred tucked a strand behind her ear. Iris smiled- a real smile- as she allowed herself to drift off. She fell asleep that night listening to the fireplace and her friends' slow conversation.
–
It isn't long before she stands in line to be sorted, her nerves fraying as she messes with the sleeve of her robe. She couldn't care less what house she was sorted in- except the fact that she wanted to be with her friends. Iris waits patiently until her name is called- the hall falling silent besides a loud “WHOO!” that comes from one of the twins, before Percy elbowed him.
Iris saw a brief thumbs up from Percy, before the hat slid over her eyes.
“Mmm.. yes.. Much potential in you. You’ve had an odd life, child. You’d do great in any house, but I suppose I can do you this favor.”
“BETTER BE.. GRYFFINDOR!”
The hall clapped politely as the hat was taken off of her head, though there were a couple cheers from the Weasley twins. Iris took her spot between the twins, Percy sitting across from her, and slipped her small notebook on the table, ignoring her food.
As the night continued, drinks spilled, people jostled, and Iris tucked herself tighter between the twins, scribbling away in her notebook. Fred peaked over her shoulder, smiling at her before poking her in the side gently.
“Runes? You’re meant to be celebrating.”
“Runes are better than.. This,” She answers, eyes flicking up to the chaos around her.
“Blasphemy,” Fred laughs, but as the night continues on he makes sure her plate is full.
–
As classes went on during the week, Iris worked in her notebook, silent but comfortable between the boys. Then the class she was dreading the most came up. Potions. Her mother made sure she was brilliant at the subject, late night brewings, her learning about the teacher at Hogwarts: Severus Snape. How he was her mothers friend, and how much her mother loved him.
The dungeon was cold, the damp stones pressing close. The smell of stewed roots and sharp vinegar hung in the air as Snape swept into the room, black robes whispering like wings. The door slammed shut behind him, making most of the class jump as his eyes scanned the room.
“Potter,” he sneered, his eyes immediately finding Hadrian. “Our new celebrity.”
Snickers flew around the room, as Snape stalked closer to Hadrian. His voice when he said his name was pure venom, dripping from every syllable. He paused in front of her brother's table, flicking his wand and making scribbling letters of white cursive appear on the chalkboard.
With a brief glance towards the board, Severus looked back before his eyes found the other twin. Iris’ copper hair gleamed in the dungeon light, her green eyes finding his so achingly familiar and looking so much like-
Lily.
Severus knocked those thoughts out of his head, a sneer appearing on his face as he turned to pace up and down the classroom.
“Iris Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”
Snape snapped, watching Iris hesitate for a second, glancing around at her other classmates. The girl sitting next to her, Hermione Granger, seemed to be practically vibrating in her seat with the answer.
“A sleeping potion so strong it’s called the Draught of Living Death.” Even though it took her a second to answer, her voice was steady, sure. Hermione beamed at the girl, nodding in approval. But Iris’s eyes were on Snape. The faintest flicker of something, not approval, but recognition- crossed Snape’s face.
He pushed harder. “Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”
“In the stomach of a goat,” Iris said at once, eyes locked on his.
“And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”
“They’re the same plant. Also called aconite.”
The class had fallen silent at this point, all of them blinking in surprise. Even Draco Malfoy didn't have anything to say. Snape’s lip curled, but his voice was softer now, brittle at the edges.
“Correct. At least one Potter inherited a brain.”
Hadrian shifted uncomfortably, but Iris only bent her head to her notes, pretending not to feel the weight of her professor’s eyes on her. The class continued, silent and wary, without an incident.