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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSOnDMctfMH
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlyyvNd8ukY
She kept walking.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT6tnKvL2Ym
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQhsZAuDR6R
Her brown eyes burned — not with fear, but fury.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡm3whqnCFvi
“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.”57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ40pIjsBKQe
His voice was quieter, now. Careful, now.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTVOoNtOvXR
“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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2QOtTSS4S2
Find the last one.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyZHJKaPouZ
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD3kwWE0r8t
Because she couldn’t afford him.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDag3ctQFW3
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk8jvovBodZ
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡebxc7SYNjE
She took the shortcut.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqQdekSl7Kp
Through the park.
Not because she was late — she wasn’t. She never was.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7LDESkqhDq
She just wanted to.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKFIW8wVJjp
Mood swings, her sister called them.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡScTHoPNFRN
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuZGpSIqoZj
The boy’s expression was unreadable, like his face was a mask.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVtMEXXlHhx
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. 57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQqS8e30wPT
No longer warm and welcoming. No cushions. No enchanted shelves. No laughter.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh2pLJGUsLE
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Ow9BBUabP
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡukIVJgvZvK
“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.”57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR2gogLBfRn
He hesitated. 57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp53A3NElG7
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfBVvnGD1aD
He didn’t answer.
“So what do we do?” asked Lavender, voice soft but sure.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJkAy5kC3q5
“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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8Cmocs409K
“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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUPSSWSZFWZ
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpuPXLcdzlX
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:57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQK5XxGrD1P
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwsv1VGiG7f
Muggle libraries. Small ones. Dimly lit. Forgotten.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4uchIwe1C3
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."57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDZc38mQTEt
"Speculative reports exist, but no clinical photography."57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM295OW2pv8
"Genetic anomalies? Bioluminescence? Radiation exposure?"
None of it made sense.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNDlFdCokLR
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC05UQgD9NR
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4pZ4WRSfOx
Just eyes.
Orange, flickering in darkness. Watching her.
She always woke up sweating.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI7ZBa0mWpM
Heart racing.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKSVZJvpRjG
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6huCxXyppQ
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZAcmCG5Wfl
But she didn’t believe it.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf8QsgyyqRc
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEMujWpryQw
Slipped into a seat in the third row.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkYmzZ66yTV
Opened her notebook.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh3ByQuyGcw
Didn’t say a word.
No one really looked at her. Not yet.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY68GMKuI0A
Just another new student.
But then time passed.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgPle1Uvf0Y
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ09v6QXv9x9
Not awkwardly. Not nervously. Just… deliberately.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNjeNoF6Ls3
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.”57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnymb5YQm4G
“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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUZOlKn8t5E
Not a flicker of emotion on her face.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3AS8IXp8HN
Not a glance at the teacher.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1cOYDsQDIj
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,57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpDOzFVCUUo
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe3mrk3RDhi
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ35skP7gce0
Turned away.
Nope.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQcr4ivi02j
Not interested.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJKcWZgHxJz
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIwxeLMwu1I
Empty tables.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEUYmSNrORu
Time ticking slower.
The air felt heavier.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwGs8hFt5dk
Not wrong — not exactly.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFbpbGwSEU5
But watched.
She didn’t turn this time. Didn’t need to.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAVru3lNXeN
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDsx55OLmpZ
Blond. Grey-eyed. Still.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwwIuAKcSTK
Standing under a leafless tree near the edge of the grounds.
He wasn’t hiding.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRHGawODR5J
He wasn’t pretending not to look.
He was looking.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaQmEbGz3vC
Right at her.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxiEyzG3IT3
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0qD9JcEdUk
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqGcGhO0ski
But in calculation.
Who was he?57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtTBS8zCDDN
What did he want?
And why…57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1v3oDROuhF
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.”57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzXmlV2OAlI
He said it like they were old friends.
“I see you’ve camouflaged very well.”57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡanaQAALlTI
He gave a slow once-over of her eyes — blue now. Not orange. Not real.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGyvuYklcKn
“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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ30scDgzt13
“Let me guess — mysterious loner girl, tragic past, doesn’t believe in magic…”57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb6Rt1bWfYb
He leaned in a little.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjhXG7piM6a
“Real original.”
She turned her head slightly, eyes narrowing.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzFTEn5nnv6
"Do I know you?"
He turned slowly, still walking backwards, still smirking.
“No, sweetheart.”57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJs9H9N7iVy
“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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU1KhmNheEd
Too sharp to predict.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyIcHG643Y7
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.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2NAdKlT2R1
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.”57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRlBblXcgQD
Her voice was low. Sharp.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡToOMkSLXrh
“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—”57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOWlNgXKz06
She paused beside him, not looking.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBpnPEf93ZA
“—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.”57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ58zE6rLsfd
He wiped his nose with the back of his hand.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTtSpSYoow3
“Alright then, Iris.”
And for the first time in a long time…57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsiOiN51OAU
He really disliked her... More than Potter and his team.
Chapter 1 ends.57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4hDjTy61DT
Thank you so much for reading till here. Please show a little support for a like that costs you nothing, but mean a huge thing for me, to keep me motivated. Even one like matters. Just comment a cute emoji... and let me know your thoughts about it.
and then Add to home screen.