My name is still not JK Rowling; I don't own Harry Potter, although I enjoy playing around in her sandbox. However, any grammar issues are from Grammarly and my own.

Shopping in London and Diagon Alley in the summer of 1995 seemed much like what Iris remembered. After discovering Melanie's pin money in the chest, she might have spent more than intended, but retail therapy was just what the doctor ordered. A relaxing day of shopping, for a moment ignoring what was lost and what needed to be done in the future. Iris even splurged on a new traveling cloak. If she was going to be stuck in school for the near future, there was no reason not to be comfortable.

Later that night, no one noticed the young woman's sudden appearance in northwestern London in front of a row of townhomes. Nor her seemly being able to ignore the powerful magics of the Fidelius Charm that should have kept a particular home's location hidden.

However, the secret of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had been known to her in the past. Seared into Iris' very soul given to her by the same man who cast the charm in this world. A failure in the spell, perhaps but unlikely to be reproduced.

Entering her old home, she curtseyed in front of the portrait of Walburga Black, the wife of the former head of the Black family that guarded its entrance.

Iris knew how to dress and play the next part, thanks to being the protégé of Narcissa after the war. With the school robes and uniform transfigured to proper witches' attire, she had taken great care with her hair and makeup charms. Proper etiquette and wearing suitable clothing were essential if one wanted to get anything done in the Wizarding World, even after the fall of Voldemort, savior or not.

"Good evening, Cousin, my name is Iris Black, granddaughter of Dorea Potter nee Black, adopted daughter of Sirius Black. It is a pleasure to meet you," she greeted the portrait but was prepared to cast a silencing charm if necessary.

The portrait's gaze was curious, eyes swirling with madness. "You're my son's child?"

"Through blood and ritual, madam," Iris explained. "I am a Potter as well."

"I see; well, at least you have been taught proper manners," it grumbled.

"Narcissa Malfoy would be happy to hear you say that, madam. As her protégé, I am pleased to see that I have not brought embarrassment upon her teaching."

The portrait's eyes cleared and seemed to light up. "And how is my dear niece? It's been many years since she has come by for a visit."

"She is doing well, madam."

Smiling congenially, which seemed a little creepy, the portrait of Walburga Black announced, "Then, I officially welcome you to Grimmauld Place, child. Although I must ask, how is it that my worthless son is not present to introduce us properly?"

"I begged Kreacher not to inform Father of my visit. I thought it would come as a pleasant surprise."

Iris knew she was the Mistress of this house as soon as she felt the wards settled around her shoulders. Not that she had any clue why, it would be a fun research project, but it appeared that the Black family magic had made its intentions perfectly clear.

Then the two shared a look.

Iris nodded slowly, suddenly feeling like she had become more than just the Mistress of Grimmauld Place. After the war, she became the Head of House Black. One of the reasons, among others that Narcissa was quick with her help.

Because hiding things from Sirius should be impossible, as he had only been removed from the tapestry, not disinherited. Walburga Black might also only be a painting, a magical imprint of the woman who once made Grimmauld Place her home, but it felt the sudden shift as its guardian.

"Kreacher." The portrait called out.

The old house-elf appeared, giving a slight bow to Iris, which caused Walburga to smile. "Please follow our granddaughter's directions as if she was mistress of this House."

Even across space and time, Sirius's bedroom hadn't changed. Dirty clothes and empty firewhisky bottles littered the floor, and adolescent boys' dreams adorned the walls. However, she could not help but nod with approval at the Pink Floyd poster.

Leaning over, she smiled at a photo of four familiar boys waving to her before pointing a finger and grinning, "Time to wake up, snuffles."

Her godfather lay in the center of his bed, snoring away, still dressed, before screeching, sliding off the bed, and thrashing on the ground as a stream of ice-cold water drenched him.

"I'd give you an eight for the dismount Padfoot, but I am afraid that the East German judge will only score it a two."

"Wait, what, what does the hell does that mean? And who the hell are you?" Sirius looked up angrily, then grinned. "Iris."

"Hey, time to get up. We have a few things to discuss. I'll be in your father's study; be sure you clean up before joining me."

Sitting in the comfortable chair, Iris remembered how much time it took to make this room hers instead of the Black family wizards who once occupied the space. She already missed the photos of her friends on the desk and the little knickknacks that she had picked up in her travels.

"Needs color," she thought before laughing as her godfather burst into the room half-dressed with a wand drawn.

"I thought you were going to clean up."

"Who are you." he raised his wand menacingly.

"Really, Sirius, you think I could have gotten this far into the house, much less this room, if I wasn't your goddaughter?"

"But the location of the house is under the Fidelius Charm." He insisted, but there was some confusion in his voice.

Iris smiled, ignoring the wand pointing at her, "And that charm has no loopholes or other problems. I'm sure my parents could tell of its drawbacks. Anyway, Dumbledore told me."

"Not that I'm not happy to see you," he sighed, dropping into the chair in front of her, "but the Headmaster said they wouldn't pick you up for another week? And where are your glasses? I almost didn't recognize you without them."

"Well, plans change as some rather ghastly house guests decided to drop by for a visit. You wouldn't know why someone would want to send Dementors after little old me?"

"Dementors," Sirius growled, rising to his feet, "Are you OK? What happened?"

"As well as can be expected." Iris waved him off, motioning for him to sit back down. "They attacked my cousin and me, but we're both fine,"

"Voldemort?"

"I don't think so." She was happy to see that he could say the name but shook her head. "It wasn't Riddle's style; he wouldn't want to miss the chance to be around with a few of his friends pontificating his gloriousness."

"Maybe one of his followers went off script," Sirius frowned.

"Perhaps, but from what I read in the Prophet, I'm not the most popular person right now."

"So, who, oh, you think it might be someone from the Ministry. I wouldn't put it past Fudge or one of his cronies."

Iris nodded. She could think of several such persons that would do it, especially a certain pink toad. "That's what I believe, but I wanted a second opinion."

"What did Dumbledore say?"

"Haven't spoken to him," Iris shrugged.

"Wait." Sirius started to rise from his chair, "You said he gave you the secret."

"Sit back down," she insisted. "That's the second thing I wanted to talk to you about. I need you to keep an open mind. Can you do that?"

Sirius frowned, then nodded. "Alright, I need to know everything. Especially how in the hell managed to get into this room. It's sealed. Even I couldn't get inside."

"Did you even try?" Iris couldn't help but sound disappointed.

"That's beside the point." He growled.

"Alright, open mind, OK. Let's see, this all began about a week ago. I was having a spot of lunch on a lovely open-air terrace with a friend of mine in Puerto de la Cruz."

"Puerto de la do what?"

"Puerto de la Cruz, the Canary Islands, the northern part of the island of Tenerife, please do keep up." She grinned. "We had been helping the local magical community deal with a rather nasty Guayota spirit. Muggle hikers had uncovered a tomb near the Cave of the Guanches. It seems the group disturbed the resting place of a shaman from one of the ancient astral cults. Whatever they released started to stalk the tourists."

"Why would they ask you?"

"Oh, the Spanish Ministry contacted my friend Joanna, and she dragged me along since having a ward-master when dealing with a tomb is never a bad idea. Plus, I have a certain reputation for exorcising troublesome spirits."

Iris could see disbelief in her godfather's eyes but continued.

"In the middle of dessert, one of my contacts within the ICW appeared at our table, all in a panic. Some witch had thought it would be a great idea to open a portal to the Mayan underworld."

"Some Dark Lady, right?" Sirius chuckled.

Iris shook her head sadly. "María Fernanda Rubio was a brilliant researcher and wife and mother of two. She was at a friend's wedding when she learned her husband and children were killed in a house fire."

"So, not a Dark Lady but a grieving wife and mother. There are better ways to commit suicide without taking the world with you." Sirius looked thoughtful. "So, the ICW wanted your help because of your talents?"

"That too, but mostly because I sort of work for them. Although, as one of the Americans put it, the situation was all hands-on deck. We even had a half dozen Shinto Priests from Kyoto and a pair of shamans from Zululand on the strike team."

"Then what happened?"

"Joana and I ended up taking a port key to Guatemala. It was my turn to drag her along, and once there, we got to work. The ICW had determined Maria was researching the Mayan hieroglyphics found on the screen-fold volumes found in the ruins under Castelobruxo castle. I am guessing hidden among those books, she managed to find a ritual to open a gateway to Xibalba."

"Not soon after, we ended up somewhere north of El Mirador, one of the ancient cave sites at the center of the ritual. We were immediately attacked, Inferi, but they weren't much of an issue and were quickly dispatched. However, zombies soon began pouring out of the cave, so many zombies. End the world stuff, really."

"So, were you able to stop her?"

Iris sighed. "Seems María had underestimated or maybe not what was required for the portal to be opened. She sacrificed her team and several villages' worth of people, but the magic demanded more, so she too became fuel for the ritual."

"So, she did open it."

"Yea, she did. Joanna, along with most of the others, were wounded at that point. I mean, she's a ritualist, not an Auror."

"Ritualist?" Sirius frowned, not looking pleased. Seeming to decide that wasn't important, he asked, "Were you an Auror?"

Iris held back, rolling her eyes, remembering how entrenched the British Ministry was at claiming all rituals were evil. She wondered what her godfather's reaction would be if he knew of her plans to take her own mastery in the winter.

"For a few years, too much paperwork, so I quit and ended up working for the goblins. Anyway, where was I? So, after leaving Joanna and the wounded behind, I took one of the Shinto priests, most of the ICW strike team members left alive, and a Navaho shaman to close the gate."

"Gryffindor's lead the way." Sirius grinned.

"Something like that, and next thing I knew, I was staring up at the night sky in Little Whinging right after a Dementor attack."

Sirius stared at her in shock. "Are you OK? What happened? Were you hurt?"

She waved aside his concern. "Other than a few scrapes, I'm fine, scars gone, and I no longer need glasses, so that's a plus. Afterward, I reckoned that sticking around Surry wouldn't be good for my health, so I took a room in the Leaky Cauldron."

The two sat quietly for a few moments before Sirius spoke up. "So, you're telling me that you're a time traveler, and that's how you were able to enter Grimmauld Place."

"Yep," she smiled, popping her 'P.' "I was telling the truth. Dumbledore did tell me, although it was long ago."

Siris nodded, then asked, "What about you know the war?"

"Voldemort? We defeated him, but it cost us too many lives. I really don't want to get into it or tell you what happened as I am going to make damn sure none of it is repeated. But for that to happen, I need your help."

"In what way?"

"See, old Tommy boy created soul anchors to keep himself from shuffling off to his mortal coil. They need to be destroyed. I know where most of them are, at least I'm pretty sure I do. So, I was hoping you could help me hunt them down. In fact, tonight, we can get rid of one-"

"I guess we'll have to set up a meeting with him tomorrow."

"Wait, meeting with who?"

"Why, Dumbledore, of course." Sirius looked surprised. "You need to explain to him what happened to you."

"And why would I do that?" Iris sat back in her chair. "I hadn't planned on telling him anything, at least not yet."

If ever she thought.

"But why?" Her godfather looked shocked. "He can help."

She tried not the laugh. "Like he's helping you? I mean, your still on the run, right? Did he offer to go before the Council of Magical Law or manage to find a solicitor that will plead your case?"

"Well, he's having problems with the Ministry."

"I don't mean now," she growled, "How about two years ago, or last year. Do you tell me Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Grand Sorcerer, and Chief Warlock couldn't speak on your behalf?"

"Please, Iris, it's complicated."

"No, it's really not." Iris slumped in her seat and said, "Sirius, he is a great man, I believe that, but his plans come at the cost of our happiness. You see that, don't you?"

Her stomach was beginning to hurt, fearing this conversation's direction and its inevitable conclusion.

"I understand your concerns, Prongslett, but we can't do this ourselves." Her godfather pleaded.

"Why not?"

"Iris, please listen. I'm sure if the two of us talk to Dumbledore, we can plan all of this together."

"Oh, I know all about the Headmaster's plans for me, dearest godfather; remember, I know how this story ends," Iris grumbled.

"You claim Dementors attacked you, right? Then maybe, you should have Madam Pomphrey look you over," Sirius said, his voice filled with concern.

"You don't believe any of what I said, do you?" she said sadly; this was not how it was supposed to go. "Do you even believe that I am your goddaughter?"

As Sirius opened his mouth to protest, a stunner was sent his way.

Iris sat silently at the edge of her desk, looking down at her godfather before turning to the Black Family house-elf who had appeared when summoned.

"Kreacher, about what we discussed earlier. Start removing the family heirlooms and placing them inside the Black vault. Clean the rooms that Sirius and his guest are not using and find and return any books to the library. I will seal it before I leave for the night."

She knew that work would at least keep the old-house-elf happy.

"Oh, hunt down this Mundungus Fletcher and retrieve anything he has stolen from us. Don't hurt him too badly but make sure he understands that stealing from our family further will be detrimental to his heath."

"It would be my pleasure, Mistress." The house-elf grinned evilly. "Kreacher lives to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

"I know you do," she said with a kind smile. "Let me put my dear godfather back to bed, and I will meet you downstairs in the ritual room. Let us take care of Regulus' locket tonight."

Iris sighed as Kreacher vanished. With a flick of her finger, the doppelganger Sirius was lifted in the air, floated back to his room, and gently tucked into bed.

"I have to apologize. With all the excitement of seeing you, I momentarily forgot that this isn't my world, and you're not my Sirius, "she explained. "Is it OK for me to talk about him for a moment? I won't take up too much more of your time."

Iris settled herself on the bed and continued, "As long as I knew him, my godfather was always there for me. When I was in trouble, like the disaster of the Triwizard Tourney, he kept the papers honest and hired tutors to make sure I survived."

"And as much as Sirius hated politics, he used the power of the Black family as a weapon against anyone who would hurt our family. When Voldemort and his followers thought it would be a great idea to attack a school full of children, he led the counterattack."

Iris stared off in space, tears running down her face. "We entered the secret passages under Hogwarts followed by two full contingents of Aurors. In the initial fighting, we lost track of one another. It wasn't until I had taken care of Tom that I learned the truth. My Sirius had run into a large group of werewolves and Death Eaters trying to force their way into the Hufflepuff dorm."

She started to sob. "And he didn't let a single one of those fuckwads past him. In the end, they found him and Bellatrix together. Apparently, the two cursed one another to death."

"My Sirius was such a stupid Gryffindor to the very end," she whispered, hugging herself. "I miss him so very much."

Wiping her face, Iris looked down and smiled. "Above all, he made this place a real home for me for four wonderful years. So, thank you, Sirius, for being there for me, for loving me. James will always be my father, but you were my Daddy. Goodbye."

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