(o8. failed attempt no.1 )

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IRIS KNEW something was wrong the moment she woke up. The veins in her left arm were darker than usual, angry crimson lines that seemed to writhe beneath her skin. She'd spent extra time getting dressed, careful to keep her sleeve pulled down during breakfast while Jade chatted about the latest Educational Decree Umbridge had posted.

"Honestly," Jade was saying, buttering her third piece of toast, "if she gets any more controlling, we'll need permission to breathe." She paused, finally noticing Iris hadn't touched her food. "You're doing that thing with your sleeve."

"What thing?" Iris asked innocently, though they both knew exactly what Jade meant.

"That thing where you keep tugging it down. How bad is it?"

"It's fine."

"Right," Jade said flatly. "And I'm secretly in love with Filch."

But before she could press further, the morning post arrived. A familiar Ministry owl dropped a letter in front of Jade - no doubt another missive from her father about suitable pure-blood matches. Iris used the distraction to escape to Transfiguration, ignoring the burning sensation that was slowly creeping up her arm.

They were practicing vanishing spells on kittens - a fact that would probably give Umbridge heart palpitations - when the first wave of dizziness hit. Iris blinked hard, trying to focus on her kitten, which was currently giving her a rather judgmental look.

"Miss Greer," Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the fog in her head. "Are you quite alright?"

"I'm-" The room tilted alarmingly. "Actually..."

She was vaguely aware of her kitten leaping off the desk as she swayed. Jade's hand gripped her elbow.

"I don't care if you curse me," Jade muttered, already gathering their things. "I'm not watching you collapse in the middle of class again. Professor, I'm taking her to the hospital wing."

"Yes, I think that would be wise." McGonagall's usually stern face softened slightly. "And Miss Greer? Do try to take better care of yourself."

୨ৎ

The journey to the hospital wing was a blur for Iris, full of cold stone walls and Jade's steady stream of threats about what she'd do if Iris ever ignored the warning signs again. Madam Pomfrey took one look at Iris's arm and clicked her tongue, already summoning potions from her stores.

"Go on Miss Greer, into bed. This could be the precursor to a major flare-up." She turned to Jade. "How long has she been ignoring the symptoms?"

"At least since breakfast," Jade said, ignoring Iris's betrayed look.

"I'm right here," Iris protested weakly.

"Yes, and you should have been here hours ago." Pomfrey began arranging various potions on the bedside table - pain relievers, blood thinners, and the specialized brew Snape had developed specifically for the Crimson Veil syndrome. "Drink these. All of them."

An hour later, Iris was propped up against stark white pillows, trying not to think about how much class work she was missing. The burning had dulled to a constant throb, but Pomfrey's expression suggested she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. Jade had pulled up a chair, alternating between homework and shooting worried glances at Iris.

"You don't have to stay," Iris said, watching Jade eye the chocolate frog in her bag for the twentieth time. "I know you're hungry. You've been eyeing that chocolate frog like it's a lost love."

"You sure?"

"Go. Bring me back something that isn't hospital food. And see if you can grab my Charms book from the dormitory - might as well get some studying done while I'm imprisoned here."

୨ৎ

Ron had been pacing the third floor corridor for twenty minutes, rehearsing what to say. He'd already chickened out twice - once when he saw Iris in the Great Hall (too many people), and again outside Transfiguration (where Fred and George had been nearby, and he really didn't need their commentary right now). But Harry and Hermione's words from last night kept echoing in his head. If he was going to invite Greer to the meeting, it had to be soon.

He spotted Jade coming down the stairs from the hospital wing, her bag stuffed with what looked like textbooks.

"Er- Darling!"

Jade turned slowly, one eyebrow raised. Several passing second-years scurried out of the way - Jade had that effect on younger students. "Yes?"

"Where's Greer?" The words came out in a rush. "I mean- I noticed she wasn't in Defense and-"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I just..." Ron's ears went pink. "We studied together the other day. Had a question about something..."

"You studied together?" Jade stared at him like he'd grown two heads. A portrait of an elderly wizard leaned forward in its frame, clearly hoping for gossip. "You and Iris? Actually sat down and studied?"

"Well not exactly, we were on the same table and I asked her questions, yes," Ron said defensively, drawing himself up to his full height. His robe was slightly askew, and he straightened it self-consciously. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Considering you've spent the last four years acting like she's personally responsible for every Chudley Cannons loss? Yes, actually." Jade shifted her weight, adjusting her grip on her bag. "And now you're, what, concerned about her whereabouts?"

"Look, I just noticed she wasn't in class, alright?" Ron was painfully aware that his ears were probably the same shade as his hair by now.

"Oh, so you regularly keep track of who misses class, do you?" Jade's smirk was infuriating. "Make a habit of noticing when Slytherins are absent?"

"That's not- I didn't mean-" Ron spluttered.

"Just Iris then?"

"Will you just tell me if she's okay or not?" The words burst out louder than he'd intended, causing a group of passing first-years to jump.

Jade's expression shifted slightly, becoming more appraising than mocking. "She's in the hospital wing."

"What happened?" The worry in his voice was impossible to hide.

"She's fine," Jade cut him off sharply, though something uncertain flickered in her eyes. "Just... wasn't feeling well."

She turned to leave, but paused mid-step. "Although..." A small smirk played at her lips. "She has been rather bored. Probably wouldn't mind a visitor who isn't me threatening to force-feed her potions." Her eyes narrowed.

୨ৎ

The hospital wing was quiet when Ron entered, afternoon sunlight streaming through the high windows. Iris was in the last bed, a book propped on her lap. She looked paler than usual, but otherwise seemed fine.

She glanced up at his footsteps and her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here, Weasley?"

"I, er-" Ron shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware that he hadn't thought this far ahead. "You weren't in Defense. Or Potions."

"Keeping tabs on me now?" Her tone was sharp, but there was something guarded in her expression.

"No! I just-" His ears went pink. "Jade said you were here."

"Ah." Iris marked her page carefully. "And you thought you'd what? Come check if I was dying?"

"You don't look sick," Ron blurted out, then immediately wished he hadn't.

"How observant." She rolled her eyes, but he noticed her fingers tightening slightly on her book. "I'm fine. Just tired. You can run along and tell everyone I haven't succumbed to dragon pox."

"That's not why I-" Ron started, but was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey emerging from her office.

"Time for your Crimson Veil treatment, Miss Greer- oh!" She stopped short at the sight of Ron. "Mr. Weasley, I didn't realize you were here."

The silence that followed was deafening. Ron's eyes darted between Madam Pomfrey and Iris, whose face had gone completely still.

"You're sick?" The words came out barely above a whisper. "Crimson Veil... that's-"

"Get out." Iris's voice was flat, but her hands were shaking slightly where they gripped her book.

"Greer, I-"

"I said get out!" There was real panic in her voice now, something he'd never heard from her before.

Ron backed away, nearly tripping over his own feet. The last thing he saw before the hospital wing door closed was Iris's face - not angry, as he'd expected, but something much worse. She looked afraid.

Through the door, he could hear Madam Pomfrey's distressed apologies and Iris's silence in response.

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Later that night, unable to sleep and still thinking about Iris pale against those hospital wing sheets (and his spectacularly failed attempt to invite her to Hogsmeade), Ron found himself wandering down to the kitchens. The house-elves were always happy for visitors, and right now he needed both a distraction and something sweet.

He wasn't entirely surprised to find Fred and George already there, surrounded by eager house-elves and what looked like half the kitchen's dessert supply. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting warm shadows across the copper pots hanging on the walls.

"Well, if it isn't our lovesick little brother," Fred grinned, brandishing a cream puff. "Come to drown your sorrows in pudding?"

"Shut up," Ron grabbed a pastry and dropped into a chair by the fire. "I'm not lovesick."

"Sure," George said, sprawled in his own chair. "You just happen to keep asking about a certain Slytherin. And staring at her during meals. And running off to the hospital wing the moment she's ill-"

"How did you-"

"We have our sources," Fred waggled his eyebrows. "And by sources, I mean we overheard Darling threatening your life in the corridor. Quite creative with her threats, that one."

George's expression shifted slightly at the mention of Jade, but he covered it quickly.

"Actually..." Ron took a breath, focusing very intently on his pastry. "I'm thinking of inviting her to the you-know-what meeting. This Saturday."

"Really?" Fred raised his eyebrows. "Even bolder."

"Harry and Hermione agreed."

"Better hurry up then," George said, reaching for another pastry. "Saturday's not far off." He paused, then added almost too casually, "Wonder if Darling might be interested too-"

"Are you mental?" Fred stared at his twin. "One Slytherin's risky enough!"

But Ron noticed George didn't actually deny it. Interesting.

"Just don't mess it up, Ronniekins," Fred turned back to him. "Though watching you try to ask out Greer might be worth the price of admission alone. 'Er, Greer, fancy learning some defense? Promise not to hex me?'"

"That's not- I wouldn't-" Ron spluttered, his ears burning. "It's not like that."

"Course not," Fred grinned.

Ron threw his half-eaten pastry at Fred's head, but as he headed back to Gryffindor Tower, his brothers' words echoed in his mind. He needed to figure out how to ask her, and soon. Preferably without getting hexed. Or threatened by Jade again. Or making a complete prat of himself.

Tomorrow he would make sure he asked Greer. Even if Jade threatened him again.

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