Chapter- 40 : Fire and Fury Part - 6

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The Daily Prophet eagerly reported scandal after scandal and fanned the flames as Magical Britain appeared to tear itself apart. Slowly munching on his breakfast, Harry eyed his copy with distaste.

Dumbledore stalls Wizengamot over conscripting Potter

His heart had skipped a beat when he first read that – he feared Dumbledore had reneged on their deal already – but the article turned out not to be about him at all. The Wizengamot had wanted to order Iris Potter to report to the Ministry for 'expert guidance in fulfilling the prophecy and saving us all'. Dumbledore had barely managed to stall and postpone the vote but it didn't look like many people agreed with him. Minister Fudge was pointing fingers, blaming Iris for the attack on the London bridges two days ago because 'the Chosen One is refusing to do her preordained duty.'

He slowly chewed on a crunchy bit of bacon that suddenly had lost all appeal and leafed through the pages looking for some good news. If there was any it was well hidden between editorials of self-proclaimed experts on prophecy who almost unanimously cried out for Iris Potter to save them and pleas to accede to You-Know-Who's demands because the outcome was inevitable anyway.

Tossing the thing over his shoulder in disgust he pushed away the rest of his breakfast.

To be honest, the issue of his gender-swapped self made him a little uncomfortable and as a result he had barely thought of the girl. When a front-page picture of her standing exhausted and lost amidst the debris in the Ministry atrium appeared between his plate of eggs and glass of pumpkin juice, however, he was forced to confront the issue.

Really, she was just an innocent girl three years younger than him who happened to look like his mum and had the same last name, nothing to worry about. She wasn't a Harry with breasts; she was someone totally different, like a little sister he had never spoken to. A little sister with a Dark Lord after her and all of Magical Britain quite willing to push her in front of them to bear the brunt of his psychopathy.

Suddenly he was outraged with her treatment and he steamed in his armchair.

He couldn't help himself. The idea of family to him was precious to the extreme and while he and Iris weren't related in the conventional sense she was still James and Lily Potter's daughter.

If events repeated like they had back home she was grieving her godfather right now, alone and miserable at Privet Drive Prison where the jailers were titled Aunt and Uncle. Even more so than he had been at the time she must be desperate for someone to talk to, for someone to treat her like a person, not a tool.

Iris Potter didn't need someone to fight her war for her – and like he'd sworn to the Order he wouldn't. She just needed a friend and that was not beyond his limitations.

He absently scratched at the scar on his chin as he sat back and looked at the ceiling, deep in thought. Interestingly, she was the sole person who he thought he could trust completely given time and he very much wanted someone like that. She was an innocent, having not been involved in his kidnapping at all and would probably understand his... displeasure with Dumbledore and his cult. Actually, he thought her reaction would be quite predictable. Hadn't he lived the same kind of life? He only had to think back how he would have responded at her age.

Decided, he sprang to his feet and clad himself in a light jacket in preparation for an outing to Gringotts for some Muggle money followed by a foray into the Muggle world.

He wasn't her friend – yet – but at least he could facilitate her talking to someone who was and earn some goodwill in the process.

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