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Holly Evans and the Spiral Path

Chapter 5: Meet the Weasleys



4th August, 1992



Dear Harry,

I think if I were asked to describe a magical place to someone else, I would choose the Weasleys home, which they call the Burrow. Hogwarts is great and all, being a castle in the remote north and surrounded by a dark forest filled with lethal neighbors, but if I wasn't trying to frighten someone, the Burrow is the right place to call magical. My first impression might throw you off, but here goes:

"What a piece of junk!"

Now if you haven't seen a muggle film called Star Wars (and I haven't actually, I've just heard it played through so many times on the video player in Dudley's room I nearly have it memorised) this is actually me being funny.

Never mind.

The Burrow is like twenty shacks sewn together with plywood and magnets. Inside, it rises to four stories to hold the rooms for two adults, seven children and some moaning creature in the attic that is 'mostly harmless'. The kitchen has little shelves tacked up wherever a wall seems to have grown into place. The dishes wash themselves. There is a clock that isn't actually a clock, with aspoon-shaped hand for each family member, alternately indicating their status, like 'Home', 'Work', 'School', 'Traveling', 'Mortal Peril' and the like. Nothing there would set the mind of a muggle at ease. I love it.

Ron and the twins decided to initiate my jailbreak last night after noting that none of Ron's messages to me were being delivered. It took them a while to decide something was wrong because their owl, Errol is on his last...wings and often gets lost on parcel assignments. Nevertheless, I told them I was grateful. I even gave Ron a full-face show-my-teeth smile. Ron knows my tendencies and took it for the important message it was; he's done good.

I am now going to catch up on lost sleep here in Ginny's room. My brief introduction to her suggests that when fully awake she will be quite chatty, so for the sake of her life and my continued liberation, I'm going to get as much sleep as I can.



Holly



*



5th August, 1992



Dear Harry,

I was right about Ginny. She is very chatty once forced into full awake-ness. Despite my insistence that I haven't met you, she has occupied my entire morning with questions and ruminations about your life in hiding. Ginny is fairly sure the two of you will be married once she graduates Hogwarts, unless you decide to go for the secret romantic elopement the second she turns 14, when Wizarding society allows for a marriage contract. You lucky guy. She's cute, in a short undeveloped girl with straight long hair way. (Well, that actually kinda describes me but with red hair. I'll have to find a picture at some point. We really aren't that similar.) Despite my amusement at her antics, Ihaven't said much about anything to her. I believe my longest sentence was:

"Still, you should work out some kind of other career goals just in case."

I know, I rule.



After lunchtime, the twins rescued me from Ginny's fantasmagorical romance land by poking me with sticks. They were using their brooms, of course, but being poked by sticks was actually their point.

"Are we safe my brother?"

"Is it going to eat us?"

"Surely our Seeker isn't truly evil, or she would have abandoned us in our hour of need."

"Which she actually did, my brother."

"Please guys, I got this from Angelina on the train."

"Ah, but you are obviously unaware of our little brother's new celebrity status."

"Certainly I wouldn't want to rely on him to defend us from your blood sacrifices"

"Even if you have your famous brother fighting for you"

I finally got the point (Ha!) and asked them to explain; "Hang on, how did you guys and Ginny find out Harry and I are related?"

"..And the Prophet shall speak to them."

"Yea, verily!"

At this point Fred and George thrust forward two articles extracted from the Daily Prophet that I missed during my incarceration. Apparently Ron's a hero, and even I am famous now. Infamous.



Excerpt from Daily Prophet, 21st June, 1992

Dead Professor a criminal; pureblood boy defends the castle

Recent events at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry have been uncovered, revealing that the death of Defense against the Dark Arts Professor Quirinus Quirrel was actually due to his participation in a failed theft. The Professor ran afoul of some plucky and enterprising students in his attempt to steal avaluable magical artifact from Hogwart's secure dungeons. First year student Ronald Bilius Weasley, a Gryffindor accompanied by two other female students, was able to flummox the false professor's felonious filching. Mr. Weasley is the youngest son of Arthur Weasley, of the Ministry's Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, who was said to be quite proud of his son's courageous...



That one is funny. Ron was cornered by the reporter in hospital while I was having my skin repaired. Now he's eating up the attention from his mother and the letters from fans that come in every couple days, though the twins have been teasing him constantly about his 'pluck'. I could care less for the fame as I'd rather avoid the scrutiny, but I think when Hermione returns from France, he's going to get an earful about us 'accompanying' him like backup singers.

My own claim to fame is a bit more disturbing, as it should be I suppose. This was published on Dudley's birthday; the day after Dudley tried to break my goggles. I should cut out an extra copy to give to him.



Excerpt from Daily Prophet, 23rd June, 1992

Harry Potter's sister discovered; illegitimate elder daughter of hero's muggleborn mother may have Dark Tendencies

Our Prophet reporters pride themselves on getting the full story, and in that interest we provide a follow-up on the report published November 1st, 1991 concerning the mountain troll that was let into the hallowed halls of Hogwarts only to be slain by prompt attention of Hogwart's staff. It has been revealed that when the troll was confronted and vanquished, it was in the company of first year student Holly Evans, who appeared at the conclusion of the incident laughing maniacally, covered in troll blood and having cut her own hand during the altercation. Further research by our reporters discovered that Holly Evans is the daughter of Lily Evans Potter, thought to be the last victim of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named before he was destroyed by the infant Harry Potter. Miss Evans is only 10 months older than the Boy-Who-Lived and thus still a student, so we approached her magical guardian Albus Dumbledore for comment. Unfortunately, the Chief Warlock was unavailable in time for publication.



Yeah, that's about right. At this point I'm surprised Mrs. Weasley let me in the Burrow. Ron apparently explained the true situation to her, as well as Prof McG who was here a few nights back to talk with Ginny about attending Hogwarts. Isuspect Prof McG made a bigger impression, which may be a more believable reason why it took the boys until now to break me out. As it is Mrs. Weasley is pleasant enough but always keeps one eye on me. Percy, the eldest Weasley child still at home, also gives me the evil eye when he's around, but the twins use him as the target of most of their pranks so he stays in his room a lot.



To brighten my drop in mood from the articles, the twins played a homemade version of follow the leader with me on our brooms.



Holly



*



6th August, 1992



Dear Harry,

Hedwig's back! I missed her so much you have no idea. What's even better is she brought a letter and package from Nicholas Flamel. I won't go into the details here, but he was very appreciative of the letter I sent, and the fragment of his stone. There wasn't anything he could do to remake it, as the original was forged partly by accident, but it proved to him that his Stone was the one that was destroyed. In gratitude, Mr. Flamel sent along one of his wife Perenelle's notebooks about memory charms. Apparently, she created a magical device called a Pensieve that can allow you to store and review your memories, 'a testament to her expertise in the subject'. After 600 years I would expect that memory spells would be necessary to retain any semblance of sanity. I'm sure the headmaster is feeling the strain already. My problem now is that the book is sealed with some sort of sliding puzzle cover made of runes, I think. I suppose this is to make sure that I'm ready for the knowledge. I'll put Hermione on it whenever she returns from France and finishes kicking Ron's arse.

In the meantime, Hedwig and I are going to cuddle, then go flying.



Holly



*



11th August, 1992 - Ginny's 11th birthday



Dear Harry,

I encountered another facet of Ginny's personality today, which led to ameaningful discussion with Ron. I guess I cared a bit more about that first Prophet article than I thought.

The twins decided to give Ginny two gifts for her birthday this year, both of them jumpers. When she tried on the second one it 'developed' a set of enormous breasts underneath, to the point where Ginny was having trouble sitting upright. By the time she had freed herself from the overshirt, they had escaped out to the garden and were flinging vegetables and garden gnomes at her to deter pursuit. As Ron and I followed outside to watch the mayhem, Ginny stormed back into the house. The next thing I saw both twins were struggling on the ground with some sort of slime thing attacking their faces. Somehow she had stolen Percy's wand and hit them with a powerful jinx, which Ron told me she had perfected earlier this summer.



"Yeah, that's the Bat-Bogey Hex. Ginny's bleedin' scary when she wants to be. Reminds me of you a bit I 'spose."

"She's learned a hex and she isn't even in school yet? That's talent. So, is that why you decided to be my protector this past year?"

"Well, um, yeah...."

I turned to him and locked eyes.

"Ron, as my friend you've got to learn something. If you're going to hold secrets, you must learn not to give away that they exist. I now know that you know more about this than you have told me."

"Sorry, Holly."

"Don't apologise for this, just learn, yah?"

"OK"

"So what was the other reason?"

"Dad asked me to look after you. He said you'd be on the train and that you wouldn't know anyone, but that it was important you know about us and the Malfoys and stuff."

Hmmm. That was making me think. I hadn't noticed Ron getting uppity until he spoke again.

"I suppose you know all about secrets, then."

"What?"

"You've known you were Harry Potter's sister all this time and didn't say a thing to me!"

"Yes, Ron?"

"Well, don't you trust me?"

"Like, trust you to tell the truth to the press? Trust you to correct people's mistakes about how their lives were saved from a possessed teacher? No, Ron, Idon't trust you like that. I don't trust first; I wait to see how people act, and then choose how close I can allow them to get."

Ron looked appropriately sullen and guilty, so I threw him a bone.

"Look Ron, I like that you want to protect me, and I love that you came for me on ashiny steed. As far as the fame and attention are concerned, you're welcome to it."

He brightened up a bit at that.

"Just remember, what really happened that makes everyone mistakenly call you a hero is truly known by several important people, aside from us."

"Who?"

"Well, the headmaster for one, as he recovered me from the last room. Hermione, as she made it farther than you did, and I told her what else happened afterwards. And of course, Harry Potter."

He blanched a little at that point. I think your reputation is intact. I held up this journal.

"I got this last Christmas you'll remember. Everything I write in here is also written in a copy Harry reads. He can't write back, but Harry knows lots about what has been going on, if only from me."

(Of course, I hope you get more info than just what I tell you.)

"More secrets, then..." Ron grumbled.

"Yes, Ron. Besides, it seems to me that secrets are making you very popular right now."

"Oh, yeah!"

Nice but dumb.



Holly



*



19th August, 1992



Dear Harry,

I just had the most fun day. The Weasleys and I went to Diagon Alley to shop for school, but it wasn't the shopping that made it fun- I'm just not that girly.

The first time I went to Diagon Alley, Prof McG teleported us there, though she called it Apparation. It was really uncomfortable, like being sucked through astraw, but it's really efficient. This time, owing to the fact that most of us going were underage, we used the Floo system, a magically interconnected network of fireplaces. The trick in Floo-ing is to clearly speak your intended destination. That's where I screwed up.

I got distracted thinking about Diagon Alley, I mean, it really is an odd name, but then I put it together: diagon+alley

"Oh!/Diagonally!"/

Well that was an inconveniently timed revelation, as I was standing in the fire when I said it. Where I ended up wasn't the nicest place, but at least it wasn't aprivate home. I landed in a used books and curio shop called Borgin and Burke's, in a nearby maze of shops called Nocturne Alley (get it; /nocturnally/). I browsed through there for a bit until I realised I didn't have any money and left to get my bearings. I need to go back there sometime though. All the books there are older handwritten works, and probably aren't sanctioned and edited by the Ministry of Magic. It seems to me that the stuff we get from Flourish and Blott's is the stuff anyone would be alright to read, but that little shop holds treasures of knowledge, from people who pushed beyond that comfort zone. I just need to learn more about how it all works, so I can recognise if an author is actually brilliant or just crazy.

I bumped into Hagrid outside Borgin and Burke's and he led me back to the rest of the Weasleys, who were going spare with worry. He also dropped off a money pouch for me that Prof McG had pulled from the Potter trust. Thanks again for that, by the way. I'm embarrassed to say I hadn't considered that without that money, I would've been depending on the Weasleys to pay for my supplies, and they don't have a lot to spare.

My next reunion was the one I was anticipating the most, but it didn't turn out as well as I hoped.

As the Weasleys trooped into the already crowded bookstore, I was happily assaulted by a bronzed and bushy-haired flying missile named Hermione. I am totally a fan of hugs with Hermione. She puts her whole body into the action, and I was glad to reciprocate. I held her for while, then stepped back to take a look- apparently, France agrees with her, as her tan was deep enough to rival Parvati's natural skin tone. Soon after, however, I lost her attention to agreat Periwinkle Ponce.

"Hermione, I have missed you so much!"

"Holly, it's good to see you! Did you come today to meet Gilderoy Lockhart?"

Upon reflection, I am surprised she even stopped to say hello. Already her gaze had wandered to the bookstore window where over the crowd of students and women in attendance, she could see the curly-blond-haired celebrity. I tried to get Hermione's attention back using her natural puzzle-obsession.

"Hermione, did you figure out anything about securing my journal?"

"Hmm?Oh, yeah."

"Well?"

"We can use a secrecy charm."

"And what will that do?"

"What will what do?"

"The secrecy charm- what will it do?"

"Oh, it will obscure the content until you lift the charm."

"I won't be able to use that during summer, though."

"..."

"Hermione?"

"We should get in there, it looks like he might be speaking soon."

"HEY, Hermione!"

"Oh, Holly I just need to be close to him, he's so dreamy and nice..."

I think that 'nice' has become a trigger word for me. I pulled Hermione over to me away from the window and slapped her cheek, hard.

"SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Hermione's hand went to her stinging cheek and she focused her eyes back on mine."What the hell was that for? What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with this picture?"

I pointed back towards the bookshop and we both saw the entire female population within gasp and sigh in unison as Lockhart switched stances and flashed asmile. "You're acting like one of the Pod People. I swear they're about to start a musical number in there! Oh, shit..."

Hermione was acting hurt but clear-minded as we rushed into the shop, trying to intercept Ron before he was dragged up next to Lockhart. There were just too many bodies in the way.



I won't detail the press conference that followed. In summary, Gilderoy is coming to Hogwarts to replace Quirrel as DADA professor. Ron had the presence of mind to say he couldn't relate the details of his heroic defeat of Quirrel for'security reasons'. The Weasleys got a full collection of Gilderoy's works, which are also the DADA texts for all years this year. Hmm, 450 students times 10 books times 2 galleons per book. I don't think 'Professor' Lockhart is nice, as he isn't dumb. I'll have to explain my nice=dumb theory to Hermione and see how she feels about Lockhart then. I lost track of her as she went back to rejoin her parents. I didn't have time to worry about that, as I had to deal with a snake first.

"I suppose the Weasel loved that, all the undeserved attention."

I turned around to see the well-dressed Draco Malfoy ripping a page from one of Lockhart's books to wrap up his used chewing gum. I am convinced he uses his magical powers to be permanently starched; clothes and hair alike. "Draco, are you feeling spurned?"

"Stuff it, Evans. I'm actually surprised the Weasels will be seen with you. Their star is rising and yet they still associate with a freakish orphan leftover like you. I always suspected your mother was just a mudblood whore."

I must have poked something tender for him to redirect his ire from Ron to me.

"Malfoy, are you familiar with the Hogwarts motto?" (It's 'it is unwise to tickle asleeping dragon')

"Of course, you filth. Why?"

"Because I can only assume that you know my background from the Prophet article, and the article also suggests that I happily bathe in the blood of any trolls I've slain. Do you really think it's smart to provoke me?"

Draco didn't get a chance to respond, as his father had somehow incited a similar argument with Arthur Weasley, which had now just turned into a rugby brawl within the bookshop. I did my best to represent the Weasley clan by breaking Draco's nose with a copy of Gadding with Ghouls, but mostly I just used the tables to duck from flying combatants. The twins and I concluded later that much of the brawl came from jealous women all vying to protect Lockhart from the battle. Little did they realise that he and Ron had escaped out the back at the first sign of trouble. Again, Lockhart is not dumb.

Hermione and her parents left the alley before the argument escalated. I hope she writes soon.



Holly



*



1st September, 1992



Dear Harry,

Everyone is packed into the Flying Ford Anglia for the trip to King's Cross, except we keep stopping to allow a Weasley sibling to run back into the house for something they forgot. In the meantime, I'll catch you up.

Hermione was pissed, but after reading through Lockhart's collection, she is beginning to doubt his skills. Several inconsistencies are cropping up that she wants to research when we get to school. Her letters have been...cold. I only hope that I can talk with her alone on the train and sort this out.

Ginny has calmed down considerably. We had a nice talk last night, and she loaned me some of her summer wear as an alternative to the rough skirts I've made from Dudley's old corduroys. To my embarrassment they fit almost perfectly. I'm nearly two years older than her; I shouldn't fit in her dresses. Anyway, she was asking about this journal again, trying to find out if there's a way you could respond through it. Ginny's convinced it should be possible, as she has seen something similar, where both people's writing would appear on the same page, just in different lettering. Due to our aborted shopping trip, it will be a while before I can hunt down something like that to replace this. I may actually be banned from Flourish and Blott's at this point.

I wanted to mention one other thing that happened. As we were getting packed into the car, Molly (that's Mrs. Weasley- she asked me to call her Molly after the bookshop fight. I think I've been adopted) asked me to put Hedwig in her cage so that she could be packed in on top. I looked at the wicker cage and was about to call Hedwig when I was overcome by a panicky feeling. The next thing Iknew, I was smashing the wicker cage into kindling. When I was done, I called Hedwig and told her to fly to Hogwarts and stay in the owlery until tomorrow, and I would spend my next free day flying with her. Molly was a bit shocked, but she nodded knowingly at me and gave me a smile before turning back to packing the car.



Holly



*



Just past Noon, same day

Harry I don't know how often you read this thing or if you have any way to communicate with Dumbledore in case of emergency, but I have one.



Ron and I were the last to try to get onto Platform 9 3/4 but we couldn't get through. It seems Dobby has taken my lie about not returning to Hogwarts personally, so he locked the barrier before we could get through. Since Arthur and Molly are stuck on the other side, we returned with our luggage to the Ford, hoping that they'll realise we're missing and Apparate back to us. Please let whomever you can know that we'll get there as soon as____.. . . . . .



Ron just started the car up and we're flying over London. Get help; I'll try and handle this.



Holly



(A/N: I'm beginning to sympathise greatly with Mrs. Weasley. It really takes quite an effort to get these kids back to school, what with the papers and books and supplies, not to mention the squabbles...)