Eight years later, boarding school

“Kitten? Are you feeling alright?” An anxious man looked to the reflection of his daughter, through the rearview mirror, holding a smile the Cheshire cat would envy on his face.

“I’m fine quit pretending you give a shit.” The blunt voice belonged to Iris now eight years older, responding to her father's newfound concern in a jaded manner that he deserved.

The years weren't kind to the girl, from a father using any money they did have on gambling or outlandish schemes, too moving constantly. To say Iris had grown accustomed to her old man’s bullshit would've been an understatement.

“Kitten, remember what we talked about?” The smile faded from her father’s lips. “You must be on your best behaviour.” He raised a finger to exaggerate his point. “That means no cursing, no stealing…”

“Noted, don’t do anything you’d do in a heartbeat.” Iris drifted her attention towards the car’s window, attempting to distract herself from his script.

“... No fights. NO fights! Hey, are you even listening to me?!” He tried to sound strict but failed after he searched for Iris’ reflection, almost afraid she’d disappeared if he didn’t keep an eye on her.

Iris looked soulful to the outside of the car ignoring him. Earlier she shut her eyes to the background of the city, being sites she’d witnessed before, she was instantly captured by countryside’s novelty. “Hey Dad, where are we going?”

The acknowledgement of his existence perked him up and he cleared his throat. “School, a private school in the country. You’ll be staying there for a couple of months until I can get things sorted out.”

“School?” She asked unable to believe him at first before the realisation dawned on her. “Oh, will he be there?”

“Yeah, the whole lot of those rich brats should be too!” Her father couldn’t say that without hiding the dollars signs behind his eyes. As much trouble, her father’s greed had caused her she couldn’t help but find it funny how cartoonish he could be when it came to money. “I'm practically their uncle you know?”

“Really? Alright, ‘uncle’ what are their names?” She asked to put an end to his ego trip and like clockwork, he was stumped.

“Well ... the eldest is Victor, Victoria is one of the twins and the other...” He guessed a few names, eventfully giving up.

“Arthur.” The name crept softly from the girl's lips in a melancholic tone.

“You're not having second thoughts are you?” The change in tone wasn't lost on him.

His hands gripping the steering wheel as he gulped waiting for his daughter to respond. “No, of course not, it just…”

“Kitten we talked about this…”

“I know but it’s been eight years how you expect me to remember the guy let alone marry him?!” Finally, Iris let out what had been building up inside her ever since she'd found out about her father's arrangement.

Iris’ father was many things but being good with money wasn't one them. After a lifetime of failed ambitions, he'd managed to collect himself a massive debt from an unforgiving loaner. Thankfully he'd managed to seduce lady luck for one last time and through reconnecting with an old friend he invoked a contract they made when they were much younger, were both of their youngest children were to be wed.

Iris’ father had always joked that it was a deal made over drinks when discussing how cute of a couple both Iris and Arthur would've been, but Iris didn't accept that as a suitable answer and questioned why Arthur's father accepted such a deal.

“Geez get over yourself, it’s not like you have to marry a stranger, beside you can follow in your Mom’s footsteps and steal as much as you can in the divorce.” Giving his daughter a moment to breathe wasn’t his forte as he fired back.

“Ever thought Mum left you because you’re not a decent human being, then over your money?” The insults weren’t anything new but the words themselves depicted a difference between the father and daughter, as he kept his accent from the states Iris couldn’t detach herself from her British roots in her voice.

“Being a decent human being is overrated, the faster you learn that the easier time you’ll have Kitten.” Despite his usual behaviour Iris’s mother was always a sore spot as he no longer could face his daughter's reflection, Iris being too much of a resemblance.

The drive was kept in silence, not that Iris would complain, she was to busy distracted by the number of farm animals she could count before driving past them, that's when she saw a girl wearing a pale white uniform, riding a pitch-black horse. “The fuck…” Iris turned her head to gain a better view as the car raced past and into a corridor of trees. Curious killed the cat as the young women turned to look towards the front of the car and were left awestruck by the building in front of her.

The entrance itself was more castle than anything else as the car drove through the front gate. The sound of smooth road, replaced by gravel, jittering the shamble of a car around while it was pack in between a selection of luxurious vehicles.

Cast in the shadow of the grand building the girl’s mouth was left open. “Hogwarts much?”

Her father smirked amused with his daughter’s expression. “You’re definitely a Slytherin.”

Iris cringed. “The pot calling the kettle black, how are you affording all this? Not out the botton of your heart that’s for sure.”

“Don’t worry about it everything is sorted out, all you have to do is play along and make the little shit fall in love with you.”

“I still can’t believe you got this arranged. You have some luck.”

“More like I sold my soul to the devil.” He joked but Iris wouldn’t allow him to have his laugh.

“Oh awesome his found religion.” Her voice oozing sarcasm. She looked outside once more and watched several car doors be opened by chauffeurs or what she could presume to be family butlers. As the first student escaped the confines of an expensive car, all the confidence and strength left Iris’ body until she felt empty. Another then another of the school’s ‘elite’ students came out of their cars and either went into the school or find themselves a group. Each and every one of them radiantly unearthly beauty, not an imperfect one between them, not helped by the sun reflecting off their pure white uniforms. As a pair of girls neared and passed by the car door Iris scampered back, like a frightened cat.

Backed up in the corner of the car she tucked her knees to her chest and searched the mirror for her reflection. Looking back was a short girl huddle with fair-skin and long locks of raven hair that fell to her waist. The only reminder of her mother Iris had and always refused to have it cut no matter how much trouble it may have caused her, beneath the tangled nightmare that was her hair, hid a pale face of a girl with cold yet piercing blue eyes with a permanent resting bitch face.

The young woman ripped her eyes from her reflection and clutched her tattered shorts. Iris wouldn’t call herself ugly, however, compared to them she may have seen herself as such. It was true she had no fashion tastes of her own, a scarface she’d had to make having a deadbeat father, she wore anything as long as it was clean and of course, make-up wasn’t an option, people mistaking her for a boy wasn’t new.

Iris never thought about it until now and she struggled to contain herself, the only thing that was preventing her from crying was the bastard sat in front of her. “Kitten, don’t compare yourself to those bitches.” He saw right through her as he looked at his daughter’s reflection. He reached over to the driver side seat and took hold of a large bag before gifting it to Iris. “Your future ‘parenting in-laws’ got you some clothes, pencils and shit.” He paused as he watched his daughter take the bag and gave the briefest of smiles as he watched her relax slightly. “Yell at them if I got your measurements wrong, wait don’t yell at them! Ugh, just think of it as your first job interview and the job is how much of a good future wife you could. You remember what I taught you?”

“Don’t take shit from no one but grovel when you've bitten off more than you can chew. Was that it?” The sarcastic motto got a small smile from the young women and one from her father.

“Damn straight! That’s my little Kitten those rich fucks don’t know what’ll hit em.” After the words of what she assumed were encouragement Iris opened the car do, when the coast was clear and stepped outside. “Kitten I love …” Iris rolled her eyes and slammed the car door before he could finish that sentence.

“Liar.”