Full Summary: Iris Potter-Black never thought that she would find herself literally tripping through time. Not one to let an opportunity go to waste, she decides to meddle, and meddle big time. Adopting Tom Riddle was not supposed to create a young Voldemort completely obsessed and extremely possessive of her. Her presence definitely wasn't supposed to attract Gellert Grindelwald's attention. Now she has a budding Dark Lord, and a full blown Dark Lord vying for her attention and affection. Throw a manipulative Albus Dumbledore into the mix, and you have a recipe for disaster. What was Iris expecting to happen? She should know better by now that all her plans implode spectacularly.
A/N: Adopted from Coho Commacher, check out their page because they are an amazing writer. Beta by Eternal Blood Love. I don't own anything and if I did, there would be a note saying that I own this character.
Chapter One: Fate Hates Me.
Iris groaned, her head spinning and aching. She had been in the Time Room; she remembered the constantly breaking, reforming, then re-breaking shelf of time turners. She glanced around her. No, she was definitely no longer in the Time Room. Iris was actually in a dark alley, filled with garbage. Her chest hurt, but she ignored it, having a high pain tolerance and writing it off as insignificant. Her head hurt a lot worse anyways.
She pushed herself to her feet, stumbling…That's it!
She had tripped over a stone and crashed into the shelf. She had fucking tripped of all things. She was never going to live it down. She'd been an Unspeakable for three years now, well more like ten considering she had been using a special room in the Chamber of Secrets where time flowed much faster; one year in the room equaled one month outside of it. She was now extremely good at magic. She had needed to utilize it after killing Voldemort and subsequently absorbing his powers and his knowledge. Talk about traumatizing.
Hermione had been fascinated by the exchange and pestered her non-stop for Voldemort's knowledge. Iris had never actually told Hermione anything of consequence, much to the other woman's ire. Ron hadn't been so accepting, watching her warily, as if she was going to suddenly go bat shit insane and take off on a murdering rampage. Neville had been surprisingly supportive, though had she gotten to really know him, she would have expected nothing less. Luna was, well, Luna.
She really wasn't that surprised that Ron acted the way he did. The rest of the Weasleys were neutral, except for Molly and to some extent Ginny. Molly had been horrified and demanded that she have herself be Obliviated. Ginny was still too traumatized from the Chamber incident to really be able to be comfortable around her.
It wasn't until she spent the ten years in the special chamber for ten years alone, that she realized she had stopped aging once reaching her prime. The only reason she was able to keep the training secret was due to her lack of aging ten years. She had always looked more mature, so the slight difference was blamed on her body being forced to adapt to the sudden influx of magic.
Iris wasn't stupid, she knew the thrice-cursed Hallows had something to do with it. Oh how she longed to be rid of them. She had used cursed fire on the damn things, but they remained unscratched, mocking her with their continued existence. She then tried using the Elder Wand to destroy the other two, but that didn't work either. Iris knew that people were going to soon grow suspicious within the next twenty years. She was ever so thankful that witches and wizards aged more slowly than Muggles. She would have twice as long to be with her loved ones before the truth came out and she had to start applying glamours.
She shuddered at the thought of having to constantly wear glamours when around people or where she might be seen and recognized. Glamours were extremely uncomfortable and took a ridiculous toll on one's magic. She could maintain them no problem, she just dreaded the irritation of them. She already had to place notice-me-not charms on her ears to get Muggles to ignore the pointy tips. Magicals would be able to see through them as the charms were only for Muggles.
Drawing herself out of her thoughts, Iris focused on the issue at hand. She didn't feel like she was of sound enough mind to use magical transportation and refused to even consider the Knight Bus. She probably had a concussion now that she though about it. Glad that she always kept the mokeskin pouch that Hagrid had given her as a gift many years ago, on at all times, she summoned a vial of pain reliever and nausea remover.
Knocking back the foul concoctions, she gave a small grimace of distaste.
'Urgh, no matter the potion, they were all foul.'
The only ones that weren't were the ones to steer clear of at all costs. Love potions, poisons, and truth serums along with a few other nasties were either flavorless or had other favorable tastes. Amortentia was said to mimic one's favorite flavor, a major tipoff if you were drinking or eating something that should in no way taste like chocolate for example.
Leaning against the brick wall, Iris closed her green eyes and waited for the potion to kick in. A slight wind blew in her face, the cold stinging her cheeks.
Her eyes snapped open, head spinning as she stumbled to the sidewalk outside of the alley. Her mind went blank, mouth dropping open in confused shock. She could plainly see that the deciduous trees were leafless, meaning that it was either the very beginning of spring or sometime in winter. Her mind whirled with the thought. She was just in summer, so how could she now be in a different season?
Iris groaned as the answer smacked her upside the head.
'The fucking time turners.'
"Oi, move out of the way lady!" Iris scrambled back into the Alley, barely moving out of the way in time for a truck to back up right where she just was.
Looking at the truck with a dawning sense of horror, Iris frantically surveyed her surroundings.
'Oh gods, these are the cars that were used back in the early 1900s.'
Feeling sick, Iris let her back collide harshly with the cold brick wall, ignoring the suddenly concerned truck driver talking to her. She buried her face in her hands, vaguely registering the man putting his hand on her shoulder. She heard the man let out a cry of alarm when he saw the blood on her, previously hidden by her dark clothes. Fortunately, she had charmed her Unspeakable robes to automatically transfigure into acceptable Muggle clothes when in nonmagical areas. Her boots contained runes to do the same thing. Being made out of basilisk skin, they were highly resistant to all spell magic.
'It's not possible. I am in a nightmare and will be waking up anytime now.'
The truck driver, extremely concerned when the beautiful young woman began to slide limply down the wall, picked her up and rushed out to find help. A Bobby saw the couple and hurried over.
"She just collapsed! I had yelled at her to get out of the way, and she did, but something seemed off, so I asked if everything was all right. She did not reply, so I grew concerned and went to check on her. That is when I saw the blood. She collapsed soon after I spotted it." The two men were trying to find the source of the blood, blushing as they did so.
"I believe she is bleeding from her chest, can you get her to the hospital in your truck? I have a horse, but I do not want to jar her injuries." The truck driver nodded, waiting for the other man to open his truck door for him to place the woman inside.
They had drawn a crowd, the watchers whispering excitedly. The truck driver made sure the woman was secure before clambering into the driver's seat, bloodied hands slipping as he tried to start the engine. With a grumbling roar, the truck came to life. Yelling at people to get out of the way, the truck driver flew down the street, honking at people and yelling to get them to move. He spared a brief glance at the woman when she let out a groan as the truck hit a deep rut. Her head was also bleeding he noted with alarm as the red stain surrounding it grew larger. Her red hair had hidden the blood. She was pale, extremely so. He wondered how she came to be in the condition that she was.
Turning the next corner so sharply, that the truck almost tipped over, the man threw out one arm to hold the woman in place, and slammed on the breaks as a child ran out into the road after a ball. The young boy looked up and froze, ball dropping from his numb fingers. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Get out of the road!" The boy scrambled for the ball, scooping it up and dashing back to the sidewalk, almost getting hit again by another car. Stomping on the gas pedal, the truck lurched forward, resuming its journey to the nearest hospital. Within five minuets, seeing as the hospital wasn't very far away, the truck was haphazardly parked.
Carefully lifting the stunning woman out of the truck, mindful of her head, the man ran into the building. His sudden entrance caused a brief moment of stillness before a nurse ordered him to put the woman down where she was directing him. The last he saw of the beautiful redhead as she was being rushed off, was her skin being almost the color of the nurse's uniform.
Iris regained consciousness slowly. Her head was pounding and her mouth disgustingly dry. She peeked open her eyes, only to squeeze them shut when the sunlight streaming in through the window blinded her. The room was chilly, and the blankets scratchy.
'Shit, I'm in a Muggle hospital.'
She vaguely recalled the truck driver, and pain, lots of pain. The simple pain reliever hadn't been strong enough.
"Ah, good you're awake. How are you feeling?" Iris squinted, blinking rapidly to try and see through watery eyes.
"Oh, let me close the blinds first." Iris heard someone moving around the room, and the sound of fabric rustling and sliding before the light dimmed considerably.
"Water." Or at least that's what she tried to say. It came out scratchy and not at all like the word water. The nurse, and Iris could now see that the person was indeed a nurse, plucked the full glass of water off of a metal tray by the door. Walking over, she helped support Iris as she held the glass to her lips, letting her take small sips slowly.
The middle-aged nurse observed her patient with a critical eye. The woman was a stunning beauty, almost too perfect to be real. Yet, she clearly was real, and covered in bandages. Her wounds didn't look nearly as bad as the amount of blood found on her suggested, so she should be able to leave tomorrow. The doctor had given her stitches, lamenting on the fact that her flawless skin would be scarred for life. That would have been true if not for Iris's magic.
Vivid green eyes that seemed to glow with an inner light sent chills down the nurse's spine. Unnatural, the woman was too perfect, too beautiful to be human. The nurse was partially right, being half Fae with some Veela and Vampire genes mixed in, Iris was far from being human. Luckily she could suppress her Allure while unconscious or asleep due to her dominant Fae genetics and the Vampire genes, though those were somewhat recessive.
"Thank you." Iris's voice washed over the older woman, causing her eyes to widen at the lyrical sound it made. No human should have such a voice. Being very religious and superstitious, the nurse decided that the younger woman would be leaving today if she could convince the doctor that it was in everyone's best interests.
"You should hopefully be well enough to leave today." Her words were tight and brisk. Iris narrowed her eyes at the older woman. Her mousy brown hair and dull brown eyes set in a round face belied her true colors. Iris knew her type, had had to deal with plenty of such people in the Wizarding world. Scowl settling onto her delicate features, Iris swung her legs out of the bed, looking around for her clothes. Seeing them on the small wooden table by the wall, she ignored the nurse's squawking.
"No, I don't want to be a bother, I'll just leave now." Batting away the woman's hands, Iris tugged on her clean clothes. Glad that her head wasn't heavily bandaged, she left the ones on under her clothes. Slipping on her boots, Iris turned to the flustered nurse.
"Now, if you could be so kind to show me the way, out, I would be most appreciative." Casting a wandless compulsion, the Muggle woman went to do her bidding without a fight. People in the hallways stopped to stare at Iris, one man even walked into someone, causing both to go down in a tangle of limbs, cursing.
Iris smirked, inwardly cackling as she let go of her Allure slightly. It proved to be a marvelous distraction tactic. She came to a sudden halt when she saw the state of the weather outside.
'Snow, it was fucking snowing.'
Scowling, and cursing fate, Iris soldiered her way out into the cold. Casting a heating charm, Iris pulled in her Allure and cast a notice-me-not.
Ducking into a side alley and making sure that no one was paying her any attention, she conjured a mirror and vanished the bandages on her head. Carefully vanishing the stitches, Iris watched the wound close on its own. It must have been pretty bad if it was still large enough to be stitched. She repeated the process with the rest of her body, constantly making sure her charms were still working. Satisfied that she was as good as she was going to get, Iris put on her invisibility cloak and flamed to the entrance of Diagon Alley. Her clothes shifted back into Unspeakable robes, which she quickly transfigured into expensive winter robes that would have been popular in the early 1900s. Making sure she was alone, Iris pulled off the cloak and let it disappear again. She idly wondered if there were now two sets of Hallows existing because of her.
Tapping her custom made wand on the correct sequence of bricks, Iris doggedly made her way up the snow-covered streets to Gringotts. Several witches and wizards gave her curious looks when they saw her, immediately realizing that she wasn't a regular witch.
She curiously glanced at all of the shops on her way, mentally noting which ones she would need to visit.
Giving a short bow to the Goblin guards, much to their surprise, she walked into the bank, making a beeline for the nearest empty Teller. Waiting for the Goblin to finish writing something down, she observed the bank itself. It didn't look any different from the one in her time, except for a few little things here and there.
"Well, what do you need?" Jumping slightly, Iris gave the annoyed Goblin a sheepish look.
"I would like to have an Inheritance test done please Master Goblin Jagtooth. Making sure to be as polite as possible, Iris kept her face perfectly blank at the Goblin's suspicious glare.
"Very well. Griphook!" Iris startled at the familiar name. She had forgotten that Goblins had an even longer lifespan than average witches and wizards. She wasn't pure Fae or Vampire, so normally would fall in the above average category, meaning she would have an abnormally long life. Due to the Hallows, that no longer applied.
A slightly younger looking Griphook came over quickly, gesturing for her to follow him. Iris easily kept up with the much shorter Goblin. Seeing as she was five foot six, she was significantly taller than the small Goblin, and therefore had to shorten her stride so that he could keep up with her. She resisted the urge to smile, knowing that it would likely offend the cantankerous Goblin.
Iris never got the chance to tell the Teller her name, and thought briefly about telling Griphook, but was soon distracted by her surroundings.
The unusual duo came to a stop outside of an impressive set of doors after walking down the large hallway for about five minutes. The word 'INHERITANCE' was engraved on a large gold plaque, gems sparkling around its edges in the torchlight.
Opening the doors, Griphook led her into a neat and orderly office, family crests covering the walls. A large desk and chair dominated the center of the room, with several smaller chairs in front of it. Another Goblin, though this one much older than the previous ones she had seen, sat in the large chair behind the even larger desk. A shallow stone bowel sat on top of the desk off to the side, covered in runes. A small athame rested next to it on a stand, its slender blade also covered in runes. The hilt was made of some sort of blue stone, having an inner fire that shone through.
"Axegrinder, she's here to have an Inheritance test." Having said his part, Griphook backed out of the office, the massive doors silently closing behind him.
Iris and the old Goblin eyed each other warily, sizing the other up.
"Well miss…" Axegrinder trailed off, scowling when her realized that Griphook had neglected to mention her name.
"Miss Hallows sir." She groaned mentally.
'Really Iris, Hallows? Why don't you just say Potter or Black and be done with it?'
Axegrinder's eyes sharpened, he leaned forward, intrigued.
"An interesting last name. Hallows you said?" Iris nodded, stepping forwards and gracefully sitting in one of the chairs.
"I'm an orphan, I was given the name by an eccentric old Squib." Iris was a good liar, she had learned from the best after all: Voldemort.
Axegrinder sat back in his chair, looking disappointed.
'Could the Goblin be an old gossiper?'
She almost lost control and started laughing at the very thought. He must have seen something in her eyes though, because he suddenly glared at her.
"The cost of an Inheritance test is sixty Galleons. Do you want to pay now after, or have the money taken out of any accounts you might posses?"
"The latter option please." Giving a short nod of agreement, the Goblin lifted the shallow bowel and the slim athame. Reaching into a drawer once the bowel was in place, the Goblin produced a small blue phial filled with purple liquid.
"You will need to drink the potion, then cut your hand or wrist and give enough blood fill the bottom of the bowel. Do you want to see only the items that you can claim?"
Iris gave a silent mental sigh of relief. She was worried that the Potter and Black families would pop up, but she was sure that the current Heads of the two families would prevent her from being eligible to claim them. She hoped that was the case at least. Magic was finicky and the last thing she needed was to be found out.
Normally Iris would have a valid reason to worry, but the Family magics for both the Black and Potter families could sense her rejection to be the Head of the family.
As Iris went to drink the potion, Axegrinder spoke once more.
"Be warned, the potion will be painful." Iris groaned.
With that ominous warning, she tossed back the potion, grimacing at the bitter taste. She hated bitter things, absolutely hated them. She also didn't really like tea. Some Brit she was.
Searing pain shot through her, feeling like her insides were being burned. It was almost as bad as one of Voldemort's Crucios, close, very close, but not quite. She dropped the phial onto to desk so she didn't accidentally crush it. Gritting her teeth, she glowered at the smirking Goblin.
The pain slowly ebbed away, dulling to an ache, then disappearing altogether. Giving a large sigh of relief, she quickly slashed her wrist, letting the blood rapidly pool in the small bowl.
Once the bottom was completely covered in blood, she took out her wand, looking to Axegrinder for permission to heal the cut. He nodded, waving his hand at her. Grinning, Iris quickly healed the cut and put away her wand. She didn't want to reveal her wandless magic abilities unless absolutely necessary.
Iris watched in fascination as the Goblin tapped several of the runes along the rim of the bowl with his long spidery fingers. The runes glowed black, then the blood turned into a smoky mist. The next time Iris blinked, the mist had begun to form a piece of red parchment with black ink snaking across it. Waiting until all of the mist was gone, Axegrinder plucked the floating parchment out of the air and read over it first. His eyes grew very large, something that looked absurd on a Goblin. He started rummaging in his desk for parchment, already having a quill and ink ready. Having found what he was looking for, he wordlessly pushed the results across the dark wood desk to Iris.
Iris picked it up, curious as to what she could inherit. She blinked several times, clearly not reading the results correctly. She looked again. Nope, still the same. She felt rather faint, never having considered that her mother would be the one she mostly inherited from. At least her magic was cooperating with her name change in this time.
Name: Iris Hallows
Eligible for: House of LeFay (through mother), House of Emrys/Merlin (through mother), House of Ravenclaw (through mother), House of Peverell (through father), House of Gryffindor (through father). In line for: Slytherin (2nd in line after Tomas Marvolo Riddle).
Creature Inheritance: Yes, Fae (half), Vampire (quarter), and Veela (quarter).
Properties: See vaults for details on Emrys and LeFay. Raven's Keep (Albania), Gryffindor Manor (Scotland), Slytherin Castle (Britain/Island), and Peverell Castle (Britian).
Iris took one look at the monetary value of the vaults and promptly shoved it out of her mind.
'Well, looks like I'm set for the next…I don't even want to think about it.'
"So, can I just claim these Houses now then?" Axegrinder looked up from what ever it was he was writing.
"Yes." Finishing the note, he placed it in a box near him. It disappeared, going off to some Goblin no doubt.
Five ring boxes suddenly appeared in the space where the letter had been only moments before. Grabbing them, the Goblin opened each, setting them down so the rings faced Iris. An elegant bracelet suddenly appeared in the box, catching Iris's attention.
"What's the bracelet for?" Axegrinder looked at her as he went to pick it up.
"It is for if you decide to attach the rings like charms to it instead of combining them into one or wearing all of them. Personally, I would advise the bracelet, as it will allow you to keep all the rings separate and out of the way." Iris looked at the beautiful bracelet, then back at the rings.
"I'll take the bracelet then." Axegrinder nodded, handing it over to her.
"First put on the rings, then press them against the bracelet. They will shrink in size and attach themselves to the bracelet. When you want one or more to be visible, simply think about the ring being on your hand and the ring will appear.
The bracelet has the ability to hide itself should you so desire. Again, all you have to do is think about it being visible and it will appear." Iris clipped on the bracelet, the clasp sealing with magic as soon as she let go of it. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the first of the boxes. It was going to be a very long day.
Tomas Marvolo Riddle, more commonly known as Tom or the Freak, was staring morosely outside his bedroom window. He was turning six in two days. He grimaced as it started snowing again. He hated snow, it was cold and wet. The orphanage had poor heating and thin, ragged blankets that did nothing to warm one's body. The food was equally as dismal. He hated it here at Wool's Orphanage. Every year, he would wish for the same thing: for some family member, anyone really, to come and take him away from this hell. Yet no one ever did.
He was going to the priest tomorrow for an exorcism. He shivered in fear. Mrs. Cole had caught him practicing his Gifts yesterday. She was convinced he was a demon or at the very least possessed by a demon. His ice blue eyes glinted maliciously as he imagined all the things he would do to her one day.
Oh would she regret how she treated him. All of the orphans would regret it as well. He sighed, deciding he might as well try to sleep if he wasn't going to be allowed to eat anything tonight as part of his 'punishment'.
Putting on as many layers as possible, he burrowed under the pathetic excuse for a blanket and curled up into a tight little ball. He was abnormally tall for his age, as well as smart. He was a prodigy, a true genius, of that there was no doubt. He was also becoming incredibly hansom. His black hair fell in an orderly fashion, slightly wavy. His skin was a creamy white, though slightly too pale from lack of sunlight. He was skinnier than he should be, but considering how little he was fed, that was no surprise.
Tom quickly drifted off to sleep. He had a strange dream that night.
He was in a forest, a full moon high in the sky. He heard what sounded like an angel singing. Hurrying towards the noise, entranced by its beauty, he came upon a clearing with a small pond. There was a woman, no a goddess, for she was too perfect to be anything else, sitting on a large rock and dipping her feet in the water, singing. A large blue, gold, green, and silver snake was wrapped around her, as she stroked it. Her hair was the color of fire, the copper orange and burnished red blending together. He loved it, it reminded him of warmth. He drew closer, cursing himself when he stepped on a twig.
A loud crack sounded in the clearing, causing the woman and snake to look over at him. She had stopped singing, he noted with disappointment. Her electric green eyes glowed, her skin looking like it was a part of the moon itself as it gave off its own light. Her red lips curved into a smile, even white teeth flashing. He noticed that she had pointed ears and unusually long and sharp canines.
"Hello Tom." He started in surprise, not having expected that.
The snake looked at him critically, tongue flickering out. He looked back at the woman's face, searching for something, what that something was he did not know.
"You know my name?" He cursed himself at how breathless he sounded.
'Dammit, I sound like a girl.'
The woman laughed, he voice like tinkling chimes.
"Oh yes. How could I not?" He frowned.
"What do you mean?" She smiled a very mysterious smile, one that seemed to contain the greatest of mysteries. She did not answer, looking up at the moon instead.
"Mars is bright tonight." His head spun, what was she going on about now?
"So." She looked at him gravely and he felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.
"War is coming. One that will change both worlds."
OK, now he was really confused.
"There is only one world." He was beginning to think she was completely insane.
"No Tom, there is another, one both you and I belong to." She stood up, walking towards him. He took a step back as she did so. The giant snake remained wrapped around her.
"Stay back!" he didn't mean to yell, but he still ended up doing it. She continued coming forward. She suddenly cupped her hands and blew into them. A golden light shone through her fingers. He watched entranced as she chanted softly. The wind stirred, ruffling his hair.
She pulled her hands away and opened them. There, sitting in her cupped hands was a pendant and chain. She gestured for him to approach. He did so, still staring in awe at her display of magic. She bent down and placed the chain over his head. An Ouroboros made of black and silver metal hung from a silver chain. He looked at her in confusion.
The woman smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. A zap of electricity shot through him where her lips touched his skin. He placed a hand where her lips just were when she pulled away. Smiling, she stood.
"So that you know it was real. Oh, my name is Iris."
With that last cryptic remark and clue, Tom jerked awake. He heard someone pounding on his door, yelling for him to get up. Tom got out of bed and bent down to pick up a book on the floor when his world came to a screeching halt.
A very familiar pendant was dangling down in front of his face. Feeling as though the world was suddenly tilting on its axis, he raised shaking hands to hold the pendant up to his eyes.
"So that you know it was real…" That wasn't just a dream, it was a promise.