She stood in front of the mirror that was lying on floor, supported by the wall, looking on her mirror image. A girl stood there with black curls, fair skin and a very different but perfect-in-its-own way face cut, wearing normal school uniform, looked back at her with complete perfection and no-smiling-mode. The most surprising thing about her were the irises that existed between her long lashes, normal but a bit unique... Really?
The wind pulled at her coat like it was trying to stop her. She was wearing a woolen cap covering all her hairs except those which were long enough to linger their limits.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHEK24Xx4Wl
Dry leaves danced at her heels, twisting down the quiet Muggle street like shadows with nowhere to go. The streetlights above flickered once, then held.
“Don’t meddle, Malfoy.”
She didn’t look at him.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqw8GtRHK4S
She kept walking.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKLxbZkyyvu
Fast, determined, cold as the air pressing into her bones.
Behind her, he adjusted his pace to match hers. As if they were teammates. As if he belonged here.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, voice low but too calm for her liking. “Especially not tonight.”
His tone was hardly comforting and likely annoying to Hermione.
“I can’t take your help,” she snapped. Finally stopped. Turned.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWSkYC4ulR9
Her brown eyes burned — not with fear, but fury.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfzbJrsNR1L
“I won’t.” She said lowering her voice a bit and extending the words.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t smirk. He just looked at her, almost bored.
“So you’re still pretending to be noble?”
Hermione narrowed her eyes. Her wand was in her coat pocket, fingers curled tightly around it — not to hex him, but to feel in control. Because she didn’t.
There were a lot of people walking in the busy street.
“You’re not here to help,” she said. “You’re here to interfere.”
Draco took a step closer, boots crunching on gravel. The lamplight cast a faint glow on his pale face, and for a moment, he looked almost human. But she knew better.
A group of teenagers wearing school uniforms passed.
“I’m here for the same reason you are, Granger.”49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7TB83cTt2z
His voice was quieter, now. Careful, now.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcvroE0jnzx
“Orders. You from Potter. Me… from someone else.”
There it was. The truth neither of them wanted to say out loud.
The mission.
Find the girl.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcgemc68af2
Find the last one.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuTOJO2qMCQ
The one with orange eyes.
A flicker of memory danced across Hermione’s thoughts — an old report from a lost archive, a photograph nearly burned. A child with bright orange eyes. Impossible. Dangerous.
She looked away first.
People were hurrying for their workplaces. So many to notice.
"I don't get orders, I do what I must... unlike you!" She said. He went quiet in a second. but the other he composed himself.
"Let me guess... You're being so cocky because you haven't found her yet. Right?" He ignored her last words as if she never said them.
There were people who saw them. Two teenagers, arguing. It was normal for them.
“Stay out of my way, Malfoy,” she said, softer now. Softer with warnings.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcsZnTJC1RB
Because she couldn’t afford him.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ57VuUxqxyZ
Not his help. Not his distraction. Not him.
He didn’t argue. He didn’t promise either. Behind them, the street fell silent again.
The morning was colder than expected.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡITpiqcnYi3
Not biting cold — just enough to nudge its way through her sleeves if she stood still too long. The coat she wore, part of her school uniform, was thick enough to keep the chill out, but not the thoughts.
She didn’t walk the main route to school.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe2lrCIGbqG
She took the shortcut.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpZQCxZWSWt
Through the park.
Not because she was late — she wasn’t. She never was.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvMZ1vo2tql
She just wanted to.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3wpQBX8k6P
Mood swings, her sister called them.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWfMS6aYiOh
Iris didn’t correct her.
The park was mostly empty, save for the wind and a few early joggers. The grass was damp from last night’s frost. Birds chirped like they didn’t know the world was cruel.
As she neared the far edge of the park, she slowed. Something — someone — caught her eye.
Across the road, on the opposite footpath near the zebra crossing, stood two teens. A girl wearing a dark woolen cap, her arms crossed in what looked like frustration. The boy beside her stood taller, clad in a simple overcoat, his pale blonde hair catching the weak sunlight.
They were arguing. Not loudly. But sharply.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW6ay9hy6h9
The boy’s expression was unreadable, like his face was a mask.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfFdm6IwMsX
The girl looked… tired. Angry. Focused.
Iris watched for just a second. And then looked away.
She turned down a side path without pausing, her steps soft and her gaze low. She wasn’t used to noticing people. And she still wasn’t.
FlashBack-Days ago...
The Room of Requirement looked different now. Like the long room of a muggle-apartment. 49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiYqN5sWrGQ
No longer warm and welcoming. No cushions. No enchanted shelves. No laughter.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8ATVlIYJlR
Just stone-marbled floor with white washed walls. Modern tube lights. A couch in the middle. A glassed table in front of couch. And silence.
Dumbledore’s Army was back — not as students, but as survivors.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1X8Z2Wyu8t
Their faces were older. Eyes sharper. Smiles rare. Sitting on the couch, side-by-side.
Harry stood with the white wall with Hermione on his left. One hand braced on the white board that looked very busy with strokes of a black marker, like someone had been teaching rather than telling. The other holding something delicate. Burnt. Dangerous.
For a long time, no one spoke. Not even Luna.
When he finally did, his voice sounded like it hadn’t rested in weeks.
“I need you all to see this.”
He laid the photograph on the table.
The edges were charred, crumbling slightly as it touched the surface. Most of the image was blurred, warped by time or fire — maybe both. But in the center… just barely visible… was a child. Seven, maybe eight. Black curls. Wide eyes.
Eyes that shouldn’t exist.
Orange.
Dean leaned forward, squinting.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPq7HBGNxD0
“Is that real?”
“It’s from a lost archive,” Harry said. “We recovered it three weeks ago. Buried in the Department of Mysteries, sealed under five different protective curses.”
“Which means someone wanted it very hidden,” Ginny muttered.
Neville’s brow furrowed. “Who is she?”
Harry shook his head.
“We don’t know. The file didn’t have a name. Just some burnt text on back of this photograph.”49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV7tdHdNXhz
He hesitated. 49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVcgjL0mX26
Neville flipped the photogrph and Ron, who sat next to him read the text. “‘The last one. Do not...’” The text further was burnt, or missing, or lost?
A silence fell over the room like a fog.
Luna tilted her head. “She’s being hunted, then.”
“By who?” asked Seamus, jaw tight. “Death Eaters are scattered. What’s left of them are barely breathing.”
Harry met Hermione’s eyes. Then Ron’s.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡer2CuRTWWT
He didn’t answer.
“So what do we do?” asked Lavender, voice soft but sure.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpQ7f33i33s
“Do we find her?”
Harry looked back at the photograph. That burned memory of a girl no one knew.
“We don’t find her,” he said.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyx8XxZmvdb
“Hermione will.”
The others turned toward her.
She nodded, slow. Tired. Already carrying the weight of it.
But somewhere in the room, a strange chill passed — like the castle itself remembered something no one else did.
✧Her Days in Shadows...
Hermione had spent the last nine days walking among strangers.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVzhw8oAtMt
No spells. No wand in her hand. Just boots on concrete and questions in her head.
The Muggle streets were loud, indifferent. Cars hissed by. People moved fast. Eyes never lingered. That made her job easier… and harder.
She walked in silence, her coat pulled tight, the cold October wind slipping between buildings like a whisper. Every person she passed — she studied them. Their posture. Their pace. Their eyes.
Most never noticed her at all.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWytK90ygEL
Which was exactly what she wanted.
At night, she found shelter in forgotten corners — abandoned cafes, dusty attics above closed bookstores, once even in a church under repair. No magic. She didn’t dare. If she was being followed, it would be tracked.
So she relied on what made her dangerous even before she was a witch:49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ28brrYapOU
Her mind.
✧The Library
It had become her second skin.
Not the grand magical libraries of Hogwarts or the shelves in the Burrow filled with dust and spells — no.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnBpoiK2Wza
Muggle libraries. Small ones. Dimly lit. Forgotten.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoP3zntjuqM
With books on genetics, ocular diseases, iris patterns, mutation theory, and cases of unknown eye pigmentation across decades.
She sat there for hours, pouring over pages with a pen between her teeth and a frown buried deep in her forehead.
"Orange irises are not a medically documented phenotype."49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuK0MwlccUy
"Speculative reports exist, but no clinical photography."49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ43W7gWbdNw
"Genetic anomalies? Bioluminescence? Radiation exposure?"
None of it made sense.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnJKpGisDY8
None of it explained the girl in the photograph.
So she went further. Obscure medical journals, cold case reports of missing children, legends passed off as urban myth, and she started building a timeline. At the center of it: One girl. One anomaly. One threat no one was willing to name aloud.
✧ The Walls of Thread
By the fourth day, her makeshift hideout above a boarded-up florist was covered in paper.
Photos. Maps. Scribbled theories.
Red thread connected locations. Names. Symbols.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTsUU6zez9b
She didn’t want to believe in prophecy — that was Harry’s job — but something about this was too deliberate.
One note circled three times in ink;
“The last one. Do not..."
She kept coming back to that.
✧ The Dreams
By the seventh night, the girl was in her dreams.
Not as a face. Not fully.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFkra8jq45L
Just eyes.
Orange, flickering in darkness. Watching her.
She always woke up sweating.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoBWTdAuhVF
Heart racing.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ42UWxOneES
Ash in her mouth. She was given something too large to handle.
Present day. A few moments ago...
Hermione had walked in the shadows for days. Researching. Watching. Connecting dots that didn’t want to be connected. Every hour dragged her deeper into the web. She was cold, exhausted, stretched too thin. And yet — she could’ve handled it.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbgfI4YzzcK
All of it. If not for him.
Because the most ridiculous part of all this — The absolutely maddening, illogical, reality-breaking part — Was that Draco Malfoy wouldn’t stop showing up.
Uninvited. Unannounced. Unapologetic.
On the second day, he followed her for three blocks in Brixton and claimed it was “just a coincidence.”
On the fourth day, he casually bumped into her in a Muggle bookstore she knew no one magical ever visited.
On the sixth, she caught him watching her from across a bloody café — sipping coffee like he was bored of the world and only mildly amused by her frustration.
"I'm here for the same reason you are, Granger," he kept saying.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrrHL0Bg1xz
But she didn’t believe it.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ82ofY4hXap
Not really.
Not until the ninth morning. When they argued on the footpath, in front of all world.
The school was alive with noise — sneakers squeaking, lockers slamming, the ever-present hum of voices that never really quieted. But Iris didn’t hear any of it.
She walked through the halls like a shadow passing through light — present, but not part of it.
She found her class.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOfc211VglS
Slipped into a seat in the third row.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡePvoUQL7bW
Opened her notebook.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCsY01tbN7M
Didn’t say a word.
No one really looked at her. Not yet.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡymXwQSGALx
Just another new student.
But then time passed.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6EB6V3Cas5
And first period began.
The teacher, a sharp-eyed woman in her late thirties with tired shoulders and a voice that sounded too loud in the quiet, glanced at the register. Then up at Iris.
"New student, right? Could you please stand up and introduce yourself?"
Iris blinked.
What the hell.
She stood — slowly.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCDGclCFwt1
Not awkwardly. Not nervously. Just… deliberately.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhJL4B0gs1e
As if every movement had a reason.
She walked toward the teacher’s desk, all eyes trailing after her now — curious, silent. Even the usual back-row clowns didn’t snicker.
She stopped in front of the desk, turned to face the class, and said:
“My name is Iris. Just Iris.”
She paused.
“My sister calls me Iris.”49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR7fdQt2ccp
“But you can’t.”
Another pause. Eyes narrowing slightly.
“Because there’s no need to call me.”
And with that, she walked back to her seat.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuJrPs0Xy01
Not a flicker of emotion on her face.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDMxNBcY8E7
Not a glance at the teacher.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV7R0bNywnc
Not a care in the world.
The room was so quiet, you could hear someone unzipping their pencil case in the back row.
And just like that… Iris became the girl no one wanted to mess with,49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ64equJ142
and maybe the one no one could forget.
The cafeteria buzzed with life — trays clattered, laughter spilled from tables, someone’s soda can hissed too loud as it popped open. It was the usual chaos.
Iris sat alone. Not by choice, but not bothered either.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoF2bf5iiIM
Corner table. Tray untouched. Fingers resting on her closed book like she might open it… but wouldn’t.
She was watching people. Not with curiosity — with habit. Reading their body language, the way they spoke too loud or glanced over their shoulders too often. It was noise to her. Static. Predictable.
Until she saw him.
A boy. Sitting a few tables away. Alone. Grey eyes. Blonde hair. Expressionless. His tray was clean. His posture relaxed. His eyes locked on hers. He wasn’t eating. He wasn’t looking through her like the others. He was looking at her.
And for just a second — the room felt quieter.
She blinked.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡft0R4KXWjp
Turned away.
Nope.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ20Jud32Fwk
Not interested.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA63JUaaVAZ
She didn’t do mysterious stares or whatever game that was. She had enough to ignore already.
Minutes passed.
The lunch crowd thinned.
And then, without warning, she realized the noise around her had fully drained. She looked up.
No one.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcO60VrLGzm
Empty tables.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpTUjMkJiM6
Time ticking slower.
The air felt heavier.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjxu40YabPI
Not wrong — not exactly.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBaKUtPGY6y
But watched.
She didn’t turn this time. Didn’t need to.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxLQzCdv0zj
Whoever it was — if it was someone — they weren’t there anymore.
But her skin crawled just a little.
Her blue eyes stayed fixed on the tray in front of her, unblinking.
The school was off now.
The air was colder now, wind curling past her ears with that dry rustle that hinted at an early winter. She didn’t mind. Cold meant quiet. And quiet meant space to think.
She crossed the school grounds slowly, fingers tucked into her coat pockets, eyes on the dying grass beneath her shoes.
She didn’t notice him at first. But the feeling hit her before the sight did. That strange prickle. The kind that crawled up the back of your neck when someone was watching.
She lifted her eyes. And there he was.
The same boy from the cafeteria.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWTpaJtpQeW
Blond. Grey-eyed. Still.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJENqTIdH3V
Standing under a leafless tree near the edge of the grounds.
He wasn’t hiding.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzW2FeyQbPX
He wasn’t pretending not to look.
He was looking.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ02MMc1fzEu
Right at her.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS0bHF89K1k
Again.
And this time…
He was smiling. Or was it a smirk? Something subtle, carved at the edge of his lips like he knew something she didn’t — like this was a game he’d played before.
Iris froze. And for a second, the world went mute. No footsteps, no birds, no voices from the school windows.
Just the wind.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡft3tJgJc1Q
And him.
Then he moved.
Not rushed. Not dramatic. But fast.
Long strides that should’ve taken longer to cover the distance between them — yet somehow didn’t.
She barely had time to shift her stance before he was already halfway to her. And her heart? It beat once — hard — like it wasn’t sure if it should race or stop entirely.
Her lips parted slightly. Not in fear.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdvVQcfWWSe
But in calculation.
Who was he?49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiCP7n7w8N2
What did he want?
And why…49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbJfcckrlnM
did she suddenly feel like something inside her recognized him?
He was closing the distance too quickly, too smoothly. She didn’t back away. But her spine straightened. He stopped a few feet from her, stood under the same skeletal tree like he owned the entire sky above it. Eyes gleaming with something between mockery and mischief.
“Oh, hi.”49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwMX90GoEc9
He said it like they were old friends.
“I see you’ve camouflaged very well.”49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpprbiN93b4
He gave a slow once-over of her eyes — blue now. Not orange. Not real.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSOod0fMVBj
“Though this blue doesn’t suit you.”
His smirk deepened. He leaned in and whispered;
"Orange is more... Honest."
Iris blinked, once. No emotion. No reaction. Just silence.
“Not a talker, huh?” he said, circling her slightly — not threatening, just annoying.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsGm78p2xex
“Let me guess — mysterious loner girl, tragic past, doesn’t believe in magic…”49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQe8iXToMrg
He leaned in a little.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5jCE2lvO5p
“Real original.”
She turned her head slightly, eyes narrowing.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnjM0zdhkuY
"Do I know you?"
He turned slowly, still walking backwards, still smirking.
“No, sweetheart.”49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL4khPGqDb8
“But you will. Eventually. Maybe I’ll introduce myself properly when you’re done playing human.”
He winked. That did it. In a single second —
Too quick to notice.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtTtQqMolxU
Too sharp to predict.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7h4W08NXtG
Too real to ignore.
A sudden, stunning crack — like sound itself flinched. The next second, it was over. Draco froze mid-step. His expression shifted — not shocked, not hurt — just… puzzled. He touched his face. His fingers met something warm.
Blood.
It slid down from his nose to his lip — slow, red, shining. He looked at his hand. He looked at her. And there she was — still glaring, still calm, but with one fist clenched so tight her knuckles had gone white.
At the center of that fist? on the middle finger.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLbGY8wkeGO
A tiny smear of red. Very less than a drop.
She hit him. She punched Draco Malfoy. In the face. Clean. Swift. One hit. No magic. Just wrath.
He blinked, finally flinching — not from pain, but disbelief. She exhaled, slow and steady.
Then she said:
“Let’s make something clear.”49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf65cxwucjv
Her voice was low. Sharp.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKl2xo12eZq
“You don’t talk to me. You don’t look at me. You don’t follow me.”
She stepped past him like the wind itself parted for her.
“And if you call me ‘sweetheart’ again—”49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiBAmsd5evd
She paused beside him, not looking.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxm45g7gSK3
“—I’ll break more than your nose.”
And with that, she walked away. No hesitation. No glance back. Like he wasn’t even worth remembering.
Draco stood still. Blood on his lip. Eyes following her retreating form with a mix of rage… and respect.
“Huh.”49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF3Hrypi0vD
He wiped his nose with the back of his hand.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ28YcDB1Vao
“Alright then, Iris.”
And for the first time in a long time…49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVjYKNCLpPM
He really disliked her... More than Potter and his team.
Chapter 1 ends.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlcFggbrow6
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