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Holly Evans and the Spiral Path

Chapter 6: Bad Reputation



2 PM

Dear Harry,

Now that I've calmed Ron down (and described how north is to the right of the setting sun, so he should head that way) I can take a few moments to update you while I think up a solution to this predicament.

I swear I can just imagine Dobby's high-pitched cackle as he gloats over his little victory here. It was startling to find myself crashed into the barrier amidst mine and Ron's luggage, but more so when Dobby appeared directly above me pointing down at my face.

"Holly Evans lied to Dobby! Holly Evans is not like the Great Harry Potter! Youse and your Wheezy can just stay in Londondum until the old Wheezy's remember you!"



The moment the car started to rise into the air, I was fairly sure Dobby was still keeping an eye on us, as Ron wasn't listening to a thing I said until we were fully airborne and I started fumbling with controls. Ron got pissy until I reminded him that flying cars weren't standard issue in London no matter what Ian Fleming has published. During his confusion I found the cloaking device button, so we were just a loud moving echo of a Ford Anglia by the time we cleared the rooftops.

Arthur Weasley is either disrupting my nice=dumb theory or he's not as nice as he seems. This car is well thought-out for a hobby vehicle. I just figured out that the engine sound is actually a charm to help the vehicle blend in- when I turned on 'silent mode' the draw from the petrol gauge actually slowed perceptibly. I also found we can conserve petrol by changing the cloaking field to only cover the bottom half of the auto. We're still going to need to land before we reach Scotland, not just for fuel but to get some maps and perhaps a compass. At this point, I'm stuck on finding the school itself as it is Unplottable.



Holly



*



4:30

Dear Harry,

Tea time has been revelatory. First, I have to say that Ron has the flying instincts of an ostrich. Once I convinced him we needed to land, he made his best attempt to catch supper for us by heading into a flock of sheep roaming across a hillside.

"Well, they looked like they'd make for a soft landing!"

I'm thinking of renaming him Moor-Ron for that one, but I realise he may yet be under elfin influence. Also it would be needlessly cruel- he is trying, after all.



We were able to escape the wrath of the rightly upset shepherd when we crashed through his wood fencing, forcing him to turn his motorbike around to recapture his spooked creatures. We found our way to the local petrol depot and I made my second discovery of the afternoon. The Ford doesn't take petrol. I had opened the cap to fill it up but instead of the fumes I expected to smell, my nose picked up traces of marjoram and bullion. Passersby made noises of disgust when I poked my finger into the fuel pipe opening and licked the slightly greasy residue I found. It's their own loss, really. Molly's stew is a taste not to be missed if you're given the opportunity to sample it.

Using some muggle funds that were included in the pouch Hagrid gave me in Diagon Alley, we bought out the depot's supply of canned soup and grabbed some snacks for ourselves as well. I also found a road map and even some maps from the local flying club showing patterns to avoid near Prestwick airport. If what I'm reading is right, there's a hole over a loch East of Glencoe that may actually... Oh, Hello Hedwig.



Well, I think I'll be able to guide us to school following Hedwig; if I could do magic right now I'd knock out Ron, but he's sufficiently distracted with the 10 pound collection of hard candy I purchased for him. The driver's seat automatically adjusted for my height when I pushed the 'New Player' button mounted below the steering column. I would have had Ron budge over and let me drive if I'd known about that earlier.



Holly



*



2nd September, 1992



Dear Harry,

Ron is a bit upset with me right now. He's had a hard day, what with his father giving him what for when Arthur came to retrieve the Ford, the Howler from his Mum that humiliated him in front of the whole school at morning mail, but what he's most upset with is his detentions with Filch for the next month. He almost left me alone about it when he thought I was serving detention with Professor Snape. I should have left him to his ignorance, but Hermione piped up too soon.

"Holly didn't say she had to meet with Professor Snape for detention, She said it was for detente."

Thank you Hermione. At least she explained this when the three of us were alone walking out to Herbology. I don't need Gryffindors in general to know I get along (in a way) with their nemesis the Oily Bat.

"So what's the difference?"

"Honestly, Ronald! Detente is a negotiated peace..."

"More like a ceasefire," I piped in.

"...based upon the idea that both parties are better served by their cooperation than continuing hostilities."

"So, if Snape doesn't harass you like he does the rest of us, what does he get out of it?"

"Did get, and I traded one school year of his indifference for troll parts and a promise 'not to provoke him with stupidity'. As he left me alone all last year, I guess I was a bit better than the 'collection of dunderheads he usually encounters'. Normally, the potion ingredients rendered from a fresh-killed Mountain Troll have a decent street-value."

"But why didn't you want the money?"

"My peace of mind was worth more. Also, I like potions- I might even be able to practice while at the Dursleys, which could save my life one of these days. After seeing Professor Snape crush Neville's ego into pulp for the first two months of classes last year, I was souring on the subject. By the end of the school year, I was almost as good as Hermione."

Hermione smiled at me for the compliment. I smiled back.

Ron interrupted our unspoken conversation. "So why try and change the deal?"

"Ronald, don't you listen? Holly said that their agreement expired."

"Which the good professor reminded me, night before last, after he was done threatening to expel us."

"Could you include me this time?"

I stopped in irritation at that suggestion.

"Ron, I don't know how I'm going to earn his mere indifference when you've ably bollixed up any good feelings he and I had established through last year by stealing the car with me in it. Not to mention that I have nothing to offer him right now!"

Ron grumbled away. Hermione looked at Ron's back darkly. I think she also noticed he was asking only for his benefit, and not hers as well.

"I'll do what I can for us, Hermione. Just don't expect much."

Hermione smiled at me again. We worked together as Herbology partners for the day. Ron was knocked unconscious by the wail of the pre-adolescent Mandrakes we were working on. It's not my fault he thought I was whispering at him. He should know to leave his earmuffs in place. Even Professor Sprout said so.

I hope I can work this out with Professor Snape. Lockhart is already proving to be a waste of time, and History of Magic is best used for doing other homework. I can't stand useless classes, especially when I have so much I need to learn.



Holly



*



23rd September, 1992



Dear Harry,

Yesterday was my birthday, and I received a few things of interest so I figured I'd gloat.

Hagrid gave me a book of wizarding photos showing Mum and James Potter, along with friends of theirs from around the time of their graduation and wedding. I can't describe how much it means to see them all, almost alive in the pictures. I'm running behind on my homework for all the time I keep flipping through the pages. I will definitely bring this if ever we can meet.

As you know, I received a book on healing salves from you. I know you know I can heal quickly, but it doesn't mean the wounds don't hurt, not to mention the itching as my skin knits together. Thanks ever so much. I particularly appreciate that the recipes highlight which rare ingredients can be kept preserved. I may be doing some home-brewing this next summer, should things go as I expect.

Hermione got me the other really interesting thing. Before the altercation at Flourish and Blott's she had noticed some reporters using a free-floating quill that was transcribing the press conference and adding descriptions as they wrote. She bought one for me- it's called a Quick-quotes Quill. You just place it on the page and tap a jewel at the base and it starts writing. According to the instructions, the more you use it as your own quill, the more it will write in your own style. They're not permitted in class, but I have an idea that I floated past Hermione this morning, and it seems to work. If you place the quill and set the jewel, then hit it with a Constipation hex, it just quivers there, accumulating words to transcribe until you lift the hex and it starts scrolling out what it has stored. I need to carefully test the limits of this as I don't want to ruin Hermione's gift. By the way, the more that the QQQ stores the more it quivers, which may be good or bad depending on where one keeps it hidden.

For Hermione's birthday, I gave her Perenelle's notebook to figure out. I hadn't had much time for shopping the way summer played out, but the look on Hermione's face when I explained whose it was and what it might contain leads me to think she liked it, and may have finally forgiven me for slapping her at the bookstore.



I didn't have the QQQ when I went to negotiate with Professor Snape, so I'll try to do the conversation justice here:



It actually was a detention, the only one I received for my participation in the great Anglia migration. I just had my own plans for how to use the time.

"Take off those ridiculous goggles, Evans. Why are you wearing them anyway?"

I pushed the goggles back up onto my forehead. "My normal glasses were destroyed at the end of last term. I didn't get a chance to buy new ones in Diagon Alley as our visit was cut short."

"Ah, yes, the brawl in the bookstore. No doubt you sided with the Weasleys in that barbaric display."

"Not entirely sir. I only hit Draco Malfoy in the nose because he said I was the daughter of a mudblood whore."

Snape stared at me, squinting and sneering, then swirled around and led me back to the potions storeroom.

"You will be scouring these cauldrons...by hand. No magic for you."

"Alright."

"What, no grumbling? No bemoaning the injustice of it all? I've been lenient with you up until now, Evans."

I kneeled down on the floor to start on the cauldrons before I responded with abit of sexy in my voice. "Would it make it better for you if I whimpered?"

"10 points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Evans!"

"Sir?"

"What is it now Evans?"

I switched to McGonagall mode. "Is that 10 points a standard cheekiness punishment, or does it represent some rating, relative to how offensive I'm being? I only ask so I can judge just how much damage to our house totals I can do with any particular smart remark."

"Are you trying to get expelled?"

Truth time.

"No, sir. I am trying to break through whatever assumptions you have about my Gryffindor tendencies, so that we can negotiate a continued peace between us. Potions is a very important class to me. For very real and life-preserving reasons, I must be good at this subject. Your antagonism is, quite simply, souring my dedication and enjoyment in the discipline. I don't mind that you don't want to hand us the answers- I like to pursue my own resources and I'll discover the nuances of potion-making by my own hand. But your continuous merciless evisceration of anyone not already proving themselves with a NEWT-level competence or family ties to Slytherin is just vindictive and petty, and it's destroying the future for this Art."

Professor Snape stared at me, looking almost baffled, for nearly 3 minutes. His next words he almost whispered.

"How very Slytherin of you."

"I'll take that as a complement, sir."

"As it was intended. Continue with that attitude, and you might make something of yourself here. Slack off or waste my time, and we'll see what I can do to catch you up on the accumulated grief your fellow Gryffindors have earned."

"Yes, sir."

I worked for about an hour before he broke the silence again.

"Evans, tell me something."

"Yes, sir."

"Why did you allow Weasley to take credit for your defeat of Professor Quirrel last year? Such an...accomplishment would no doubt make you popular amongst your fellow Gryffindors."

I thought about it before responding. "I don't want fame. It makes people act falsely towards you. I don't want people to ask me about the details. I killed a man. It was self-defense but I don't want to discuss it like I'm some hero. Let my brother be the hero. Let Ron feel like a hero- he could use the boost after the way his brothers treat him. His own mistakes will bring him back to earth soon enough."

"No doubt. Please continue to discourage any fame you may accidentally accrue. It would...sour my ability to tolerate you."

I took this moment to push things a little, but it didn't play out like I expected.

"Sir, Hermione shares many of my attitudes about potions, if you could..."
"No! Miss Granger does not learn merely to understand. She uses her gifts to set herself above others. She asks for approval to support her sense of superiority over her fellow students. So long as she is given these accolades, Miss Granger will always go only so far as the approval of her masters leads her."

"I think you aren't seeing her brilliance, sir."

"Wrong! I see it all too well. Miss Granger could be great, she could change history, but only if we guide her to reach as far as her own desires can take her. She will never gain my approval, and that shall spur her to achieve."

Wow. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was in love.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but you seem to have given this some thought?"

"Miss Granger reminds me of another bright light, which was extinguished far too early. Protect her, Miss Evans, from her own limitations. And do not speak of this conversation to her, ever."

"I swear."

And so should you. Consider yourself bound by a secrecy oath on this one, my brother.



Holly



*



9th October, 1992



Dear Harry,

This should be a good test for the QQQ. It was quite the discussion in the common room. Besides, the darned thing is twitching about like it's being Crucio'd.



Transcription: 9th October, 1992 starting 2:18 PM GMT

Hermione Granger (HG):...so that's why your goggles are still protected by the Impervious Charm. It's linked to a rune I scribed right here. How's your quill holding up?

Holly Evans (HE):Well, let's try it out.

Angelina Johnson (AJ):Oh, tell us, brave Roland, tell us of your feats of derring-do

Ronald Weasley (RW):But my name's Ronald...

Alicia Spinnet (AS):We know, you git. The question was how is it you killed Professor Quirrel? You can't cast a Slug-Expelling curse without having it reflected back at you! How could you defeat a fully trained adult? Even the stuttering Professor Quirrel was hired by Dumbledore for Defense, so he must have known what he was on about.

RW: I...uhhh...it's a state secret. I'm not supposed to tell.

AS, AJ, Katie Bell (KB):Ahhh, bollocks!

KB: You're pathetic Weasley. You just can't admit that you had nothing to do with it.

AS: Who killed the Professor?

AJ: Why are you stuttering?

AS: Answer the question!

AJ: Who are you covering for?

RW: Um, well Holly...

HE: It was Harry Potter. That's why Ron couldn't talk about it. Harry was here, which people aren't supposed to know. My brother killed Professor Quirrel.

[pause]

AJ: Why don't you keep out of this, freak? We don't want to have to look at you.

AS: Yes, Evans, where did you get that pathetic dress? Steal it from an orphan's doll?

Ginny Weasley (GW):I gave it to her to help cover up her scars.

HG: Ginny!

GW: They cover her back and upper arms. The only blouse she had was threadbare. I gave her my dress.

Transcription ended

Well, that's enough of that. I was trying to stop the write-back before we got to that part. Don't worry about it.

Fucking quill.

Ginny's a bitch.



Holly