Chapter- 53 : Resurgence Part - 2

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Iris let out a choking sob at the final offhand comment as a myriad of emotions overwhelmed her. The image of Sirius falling through the ominous stone archway at the Ministry flashed across her vision and tugged at the gaping hole in her heart that had been slowly mending ever since talking to Luna at her last day at Hogwarts. Somehow the blonde girl's words had really connected with her and she had chalked that up as yet another one of her oddities.

This though... This Anonymous 'Pretentious Twit' Samaritan's words cut right through the cloud of depression and the haze of grief that surrounded her thoughts. How did he know just what to say?

"Do you know who sent this, Dobby?" she asked after reading it a second time.

To her great surprise he scuffed his sock-clad heel on the wooden floor and looked incredibly uncomfortable. "Yes, Great Miss Iris Potter, ma'am," he said in a small voice, "but Dobby cannot be saying." His pleading eyes met hers. "Please don't ask, Great Miss Iris Potter, ma'am."

"All right," she said slowly, instantly suspicious. "Is it safe, though?"

Suddenly Dobby seemed to grow taller by a foot as he straightened and his ears perked up. A cheek-splitting grin grew wide enough to bare teeth. "Oh yes," he almost purred. "Dobby made sure."

"I... don't want to know, really." She eyed him hesitantly. "You're absolutely sure?"

Dobby nodded emphatically

"All right then." Her attention turned back to the letter and the offered aid therein. Already she was almost salivating at the prospect of enough food to actually fill her stomach, but she was really looking forward to hearing a sympathetic voice.

A tear trickled down her cheek and she angrily rubbed it away. Being alone was so very hard sometimes...

"Are you sure I shouldn't tell the Headmaster, though, Dobby?" she asked one final time. She knew the world was bad out there and all sorts of crazies had all sorts of designs on her.

The elf opened his mouth, but suddenly squeaked as some kind of magical bracelet lit up blue-green along his right wrist for a second only to disappear just as quickly. Dobby glared at the spot as if it held a tattoo proclaiming his love for the Malfoy family.

"Dobby doesn't think so," he said petulantly, crossing his arms and determinedly not looking at his wrist.

Iris swallowed. "I think maybe I should, just to check, you know. Not that I don't trust your judgement, but..." She trailed off, shrugging. "Dumbledore says he's coming over in a few days anyway."

Dobby nodded solemnly. "Great Miss Iris Potter, ma'am must do what she thinks best."

He seemed oddly pleased, though.

Yes, she decided, she would tell the Headmaster, but... She eyed the pile of goodies speculatively as her stomach growled. There was no reason to go hungry in the mean time, was there?

Three days later Iris sat at her rickety desk, nibbling on the back of a quill, staring at a trio of very different letters. The one on the left lay open on the envelope it arrived in, crease-free and pristine but for a few smudges and fingerprints that showed how often she had reread it. In contrast, the one on the right was tightly wadded into a ball with more than a few tears after venting some frustration by using it to play fetch with Hedwig. She didn't need to read it to know what it said, though.

"Dear Miss Potter," she grumbled. "I am much too busy giving false hope to other orphans so I cannot get you out of the hellhole I put you in like I promised. It's very possible that you'll be stuck there all summer, but either way, I'm not telling. Suck it up, Albus, middle name, second middle name, third sodding middle name, Dumbledore."

She shot another filthy glare at the balled up parchment. If he didn't keep his promises she damn well wasn't going to snitch on someone who was actually helpful either.

Hence the unfinished letter.

Dear Anonymous 'Pretentious Twit' Samaritan,

Thank you. Seriously, thank you. I have no words for how good it felt to both eat and talk to a friend for the first time in what feels like forever.

Merlin, I just wrote 'seriously' without choking up thinking of my godfather. A few days ago I couldn't do that. Again, thank you, this time for what you said about him. Somehow that was exactly what I needed to hear.

How did you do that, anyway? Know what I needed to have and to hear? It's impressive, if not a little creepy.

The secrecy kind of irritates me, though. Not being able to tell made Dobby unhappy and that's a really shitty thing to do. Thus, henceforth I dub thee Anonymous 'Pretentious Twit' Samaritan. It's your own fault for signing the letter like you did. I only give nicknames to people I like, though. Really, you should be flattered.

Can you at least tell me why you feel about people like you do?

Iris sighed. She had so many unanswered questions, which may have ended up making her a little catty at the end there. She didn't feel like changing it, though. It was honest and that was a surprisingly freeing thing when confronted with someone who hid everything about themselves.

Quickly she added a request to write back and signed her name to the bottom. Before she could change her mind she rolled the thing up and tied it shut with a bit of twine. Dobby would pop in at some point and deliver the missive with no-one the wiser. In the mean time she had a phone card and a date with Hermione to get to.

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If you're eager to delve deeper into the story, consider joining my Patreon for exclusive content and early access to new chapters

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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)

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