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Holly Evans and the Spiral Path
Chapter 20: Brewing Trouble

A Spiral Tangent is referenced at the start of this chapter; 'Holly Dates Dean'. See the Tangents info at the end of the chapter. Or just read it.

3rd December, 1993

Harry,
It occurred to me that a deeper understanding of Hermione's position about this Dean dating thing might help you understand why I even tried it out. This is the follow-on conversation we had in Myrtle's space as best as I recall (which nowadays is nearly court-reporter-like in accuracy due to Occlumency exercises. It really cuts down on note-taking in class).
"You were serious about that?"
"Yes, Holly! In as much as I enjoy our time together, I still consider it just a measure of our closeness as friends. If you or I were to start dating a boy, I wouldn't expect you to continue ...pleasuring me. It might affect the relationship we would be building with the other person. Were you expecting something different?"
"I was expecting you to be so blown away by my 'pleasuring you' that you wouldn't see the point in bothering with boys, particularly since you're dedicated to following the recommendations of Miss Twistbritches in 'Why Witches Should Wait'"
"It's Twilliger, and there are very potent reasons to hold off losing your virginity until the wedding night. Several rituals and enchantments are possible only under those circumstances."
"Yes, I believe some of them involve demon summoning. 'See the extended works at 40 galleons a pop for further information!'"
"I take it you won't be waiting, then."
"I hadn't given it much thought. I doubt my situation would fit in those rituals."
(Gasp!) "Oh, Holly! I'm sorry! I forgot! Please forgive me!"
"It's alright, Hermione."
"Thank you."
"And you were serious about that?"
"Yes! Go ask Dean for a date!"
"Oh, alright."

I tried. We had a good time at first. He was charming and enjoyable to spend time with. He's a good kisser. I just couldn't make the relationship work after...
I can't be glib about this. He used a wandless vocal Compulsion to make me give him a blowjob. It's one of his Talents. I think this has worked for him in the past, as he seemed very surprised when I chose to spit his spunk into a handy flask instead of swallowing it as he commanded. Once I realised what was being done to me I just wanted to get out of there, but then I figured it would be more bearable if I could make the whole effort worth something to me. After my mercenary mind had collected his sperm and scared him (hopefully) straight, I had to hide in that damned broom closet the rest of the night breaking down in tears. I can (barely) stand the notion of dirty old wizards preying on me in Knockturn Alley, though I won't let them get away with it. It's a dangerous place and I failed to respect that. To have a House-mate, a decent fellow by all other accounts, just use me indiscriminately as his sex puppet... well, it left me feeling a little colder about the rest of the individuals I deal with. We are all somewhat subject to our urges and our fantasies, but with so much power being wielded by this population, you'd think we would be given constant guidance on morals, ethics and the consequences of our actions. Instead, we're left to make of this training ground whatever we can manage, and are only restrained when permanent scarring, death or (ironically) life may be the result. In some ways, Professor Snape is a better educator for his House than Prof McG is for ours- he is teaching the Slytherins that there is no rule except 'don't get caught' and for all I've seen, it's the one rule magical society adheres to.

I returned from my self-cloistering this morning alone, in the same clothes as yesterday and feeling just as used. Dean is keeping a radioactively safe distance from me. Hermione noticed our distance and said "Holly, I think you should try again only don't rush things. You didn't give this a proper chance to grow." I discreetly placed the Erlenmeyer flask with Dean's semen in front of her and whispered "I think I gave it as good a chance as he deserves. Let's see what else we can grow." Hermione looked sad, then angry.
"My God, Holly! What did he do? Why did you...how did you...is this really (whispering) ...his seed?"
"Hermione, I'm not really up to answering questions about the source of this sample. Let's focus on the opportunity it presents."
"Opportunity? Are we going to ...?
I nodded.
"We are?!"
Having realised that we now had the materiel necessary to start working on incubating my eggs, Hermione's enthusiasm for the project was hard not to enjoy. Y'know that Mad Seeker 'I want to know' gaze she gets? It's quite the turn on for me. It took all our combined will not to run out of the Hall at top speed for Myrtle's lav-lab for a planning session. As it is by the time we got there, Hermione told me she was having a hard time deciding if she wanted to take notes or have me take her clothes off. She allowed me to choose the latter for her, which provided a well-appreciated emotional cleansing for me. I love her so much. I really enjoyed just being next to her, having her hold me, giving me periodic Hermione hugs as we came down from the energy of our romp. After this Dean affair I'll never take her hugs for granted. A Hermione hug is the only definition of feeling safe I can believe in.
Afterwards, Hermione had a moment of concern. She realised that our intimate encounters may constitute a failure for her to abide by her agreement with her parents not to give up her virginity until they had discussed things. It was such a Hermione moment:
"Oh, dear! Holly, may I borrow Hedwig?"
"Certainly. Who are you sending her to?"
"My parents. I want to invite you to come home with me for Christmas holidays, but I just realised I need to tell mum what we've been up to. I may not have broken the letter of my promise, but the spirit has, I think, been subverted. Why are you laughing?"
"Y-you...you want to send a letter to your Mum that says 'Dear Mum, Holly and I are really enjoying our time at Hogwarts, you wouldn't believe the orgasms she gives me! Would you mind terribly if she came home with me for the hols?'" Hermione's blush was very pretty as it spread from her face across her shoulders and down her breastbone.
"Well, I should think I can come up with a...more diplomatic way of phrasing it."
"...'and I'd hate to think of her alone in that drafty old castle and you wouldn't believe how lonely I get without her holding my breasts when we fall asleep together...'"
"You will be left in this drafty old castle if you keep on like this."
"Oooh! Just think what sort of mischief we could accomplish with our research, the library and our bodies just knocking around a nearly empty castle for two weeks! It certainly would delay discussions with your Mum regarding any almost-sex you may have allegedly had..."
"No, no and no! Your options are to remain here alone or come meet my family."
"Are you seriously going to tell your Mum exactly what we've done together?"
"I...I'm not sure. I think I'll just introduce the necessity of the discussion along with asking for you to guest with us. She may not put the two together that way."
"So, your Dad's the really intelligent one?"
"No, they're both brilliant... Oh. I see your point."
"Still, no harm in asking. One thing, Hermione?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you very much. I would love to accompany you home for Christmas."
"Oh! Wonderful!" and I got another Hermione hug.
"(Sigh) I'm doomed. Hello Hedwig! How'd you get in here?"
(Clik-clack snurfle bark snurfle)
"What did she say?"
"She said 'I don't know. It's a mystery!' The cheeky fluffer!"
Whap!
"Ow!"
(giggle)
"Why my Patronus should look like this silly bird I'll never know!"
Whap!
"Ow! Stop it!"
(giggle)

Holly

*

9th December, 1993

Harry,
Hermione and I have been quite preoccupied with our latest meta-science project, but I don't want to talk about that yet. Let's instead catch up on the other players (whose lives I find less interesting when there's every chance Hermione will be gasping or screaming in my ear in pleasure sometime soon).
Pansy is out of hospital, and is now almost constantly surrounded by other Slytherins, like an entourage for a celebrity. When you can see her between the defensive scowls of her Housemates, she seems either bitchy or forlorn, probably for not holding Draco's attention. Basically, she's back to normal.
Dean Thomas has been working very hard to be nice to me without approaching within my reach. He spends much more time with boys than ever before. Ron seems to think Dean is becoming his best friend due to his recent selection as alternate Quidditch keeper. I'll just let him dream. I doubt I'm scary enough to chase Dean to the arms of men, but I suppose if Dean did switch his twist, chasing after Ron would be in form. Ron seems to be on every gay boy's wish list this Christmas. Actually, I may be using circular reasoning, as longing looks and lip-licking at Ron's passing has become my litmus for identifying gayness amongst the male students. Either way, I don't get it, as Ron is both oblivious to their interest and more dedicated to staring at Hermione's breasts than I am. Of course, I don't have to wonder what they feel like...
Neville seems to have gleaned something about the situation between myself and Dean, as he has initiated his own revenge/prank program against Dean in Herbology. He'll hand him a steelpin chestnut shell that punctures his dragonhide gloves right before we start extracting Bubotuber Pus, or switch the calming lemon juice for the Feisty Furunculous with garlic juice, causing it to shriek. The really funny thing is that Neville covers for his vindictive streak with his reputation for kind-hearted ineptness. Either that or I'm giving him way too much credit, and not enough to the forces of serendipity.
The twins have been meeting with us at inconsistent intervals in the radio station room to trade spells and techniques. Hermione taught them (and me) Disillusionment and since then their success ratio for delivered pranks has risen from 50 to nearly 80 percent. One of the spells they felt was only mildly interesting was a silver arrow spell. Based upon their stories, I'm going to assume that Lupin is the exception for Lycanthrope behavior, so I have practiced that one as I run at night, dispelling the implanted arrows as I pass them on my course. I used them to take out a rogue Acromantula that had wandered onto the grounds. I felt pity for him; Hagrid told me when he came to help me drag it's corpse off the lawn that the clan had been hunting for this one- he had been poisoned by a mink poacher's trap and they were trying to find him to put him down.
The other professors have been giving both Hermione and me a wide berth. As best as I can tell, there is some sort of debate amongst them centered around us, and none of them seem likely to change positions or explain their bone of contention to us anytime soon. I would attribute this to the temper-shortening influence of the Dementors, but every time you hear them arguing to the point of muffled shouting, they stop suddenly, give each other grudging looks and then turn to stare at us. I've taken to making faces at them when they do that. Hermione does too, only never to the Headmaster or the Heads of House.
Ginny has taken my position as Seeker on the Quidditch squad, and was up until yesterday the subject of near constant Chaser hazing. Ginny asked me after their first practice if I was getting any better treatment now that I'm no longer on the team; I told her she'd have to find her own reasons to bear through it or quit, but offered my theory that they were frustrated by Oliver's rejecting of their advances due to his disinterest in girls. "If you remember that, it might make their nonsense easier to bear," I said. Yesterday, Ginny took a more direct approach. She told them Oliver didn't like any girls so they should stop treating her like a threat. She is now regarded as some kind of savant or good luck charm. Hermione suggested I loan her my replacement Nimbus for matches rather than have her struggle with a school broom. I mentioned the possibility to the Twins so they could send Ginny to ask me for it. It doesn't hurt to have her owe me a favor, and I've found that giving people things can sometimes lead to them de-valuing the gift, and oft-times the gifter. Dudders makes an extreme example, but it makes sense if you think about it. Give people what they need or want without some sort of balancing of the books, and they'll get the idea that they deserve it and take it for granted.
(Sigh)
Alright, here's what happened with the eggs.
We set up three small cauldrons with the Incubation Bath in them, separated some eggs, added some Dean juice to them and then plopped them in, one to a cauldron. They melted.
We cleansed the cauldrons, prepped some more eggs, then Hermione found a charm to separate out some living sperm into small sample tubes- our first batch the sperm all died from my saliva a few minutes after the samples had the stasis charm lifted. The second batch seemed to take, but they shriveled within an hour.
We cleansed the cauldrons. Further digging in a back issue (and when I say back issue, I mean from 1825) of Underground Potions Quarterly I bought from Burke included an article about Homunculi by Boreas Black that suggested regular infusions of blood in the incubation would be needed to keep the growing life form fed. Hermione came up with a simple blood-drawing technique and we were off to the races, with me slightly loopy as I was a pint low. These eggs took hold and were looking to grow almost in front of your eyes. By the next morning, they too had shriveled.
That's when I lost it. I screamed and I threw empty bottles and I tossed over tables and broke beakers in my fists and then fell to the floor, all bloody hands and crying eyes. Hermione dropped the Shield Charm she had used to protect herself from flying debris, healed my hands and then took me into her arms, holding my head to her chest and rocking me until I calmed down enough to talk. It took three hours, I think.
"Holly, I don't understand. I know this project has meaning for you, but I don't know exactly why. I could guess the reasons, but if I'm wrong I'm fairly sure I will upset you further."
"I (sob) ...I (sniff) ...I don't know what I am. I want to see one of these eggs mature into something so I can know what I...(sniff) what I am, what I produce."
"Well, that makes sense. Obviously then that has nothing to do with why you're upset."
I twisted around in Hermione's grip so that my head was cradled in her lap, to look up into her face.
"Alright, when did you get (sniff) wise?"
"You've been training me to see the layers of people's behavior for a year or so now. Plus, this is something I've been wondering ever since you said you were holding onto the eggs. I can guarantee you that I have no desire to preserve my menstrual discharge for any alchemical purpose, but I know your situation is very different. As to what you are, well, I have a theory."
"You have a theory? (sniff) I'm stunned."
"Ha ha. Just for that, I'm not going to share my theory with you until you tell me why you're upset."
I grumbled a bit, then calmed myself, then found I was getting upset all over again.
"It's just...I was actually having a good time with (sniff) ...with Dean. Then I find he was screwing with my mind, using some sort of verbal coercion talent to make me ...service him. I felt violated. I had enough wherewithal to (sniff) ...change the goal, in my head. To turn it around, and make it as if I was taking something from him. But now, I can't even make that half-arsed act of revenge turn into anything positive. It's like, all that I touch just rots away-y-y (sob)..." I started crying again, and Hermione held onto me, shushing my fears, wiping my tears and telling me it would all work out, that I wasn't tainted and that Dean has no idea what he lost in pursuit of a quickie.
Later Hermione clued me in on her theory. After my bout with having my body rebuilt under the influence of Basilisk venom, Phoenix tears and Flamel stone fragments, I am no longer actually a mammal, nor entirely avian or serpentine. I am unique. And it's because I'm not a mammal that I haven't grown body hair or breasts to speak of. The rest of my body matured and mutated to handle the new influences, but my human development is stalled. Hermione also took this time to inform me that if I tried carefully, I might be able to smell with my tongue.
"As long as my nose works fine, I see no reason to test that."
"Well, it was just an idea. I was also concerned that your eyes might change in order to read Parselscript, but there's no evidence of that."
"Of course not, Hermione. There's no such thing as Parselscript."
"But you said the Gaunt book was written in Parselscript! Why else wouldn't I be able to read it?"
"You can't read it because it has a snake-themed Obscuring Charm on it. I thought you would have worked out that I was kidding by now."
"Kidding?! Holly that's just cruel!"
"Cruel? Honestly Hermione! Exactly why did you expect that snakes would develop written language in the first place? It's not like they can hold a quill!"
"Oh! For that, you will be tickled! Mercilessly! Glaciare!"
Hermione had me prone and had frozen my hands and hips to the floor. For the next 90 minutes she tickled me to the point of losing consciousness due to oxygen deprivation about twenty times. My punishment was severe, painful, and liberatingly, cathartically ...human. I love her.

Holly

*

16th December, 1993

Dear Harry,
In case you thought that we had abandoned our experiments with the eggs, well, we didn't. For one thing, we already had the materials at hand and the process was getting refined to a point where I could almost taste success in the wind. For another, every time we made a breakthrough or came up with a new approach it was like giving Hermione four glasses of wine, as far as our love-life was concerned. I've gotten quite accomplished at transforming almost any collection of wreckage into a futon (it's a firmly-packed Japanese mattress) in under 10 seconds.
Hermione has also made progress, having discovered that undiluted vinegar is enough of an acid to neutralize my fluids for the sake of our romping. Unfortunately, Hermione has lost any appreciation she once had for pickles, but she said she considered that a small sacrifice to give back a little of what she had gotten. Don't think about it too much.
Anyway, today is a Big Day. Eggs 13 through 15 are starting to hatch!

Holly

*

16th December, 1993 Part 2

Harry, I'd like to introduce the newest member of our family, Newt. You're an uncle. Don't get too excited; Newt is an animate blob of ink in the shape of a small lizard, about four inches long.
Hermione and I had started working up a second batch of the Incubation Bath as soon as we had problems with our first trio of eggs. Whatever we did this time seems to have worked out the kinks in our brewing process. Eggs 13, 14, and 15 came to maturity three days after they were first inserted into the new Bath, with periodic supplements of blood added to feed them every few hours. Once they hatched, we could tell number 15 was way more lively than the other two, at which point Hermione had a revelation.
"Holly, we each have two stirring rods from our potions kit, yes?"
"Yah, one we use in class and the other one here. What's your point?"
"Where'd the third rod come from?"
"Ummm...oh, they couldn't...they wouldn't...Finite Incantatem!"
Which is when we discovered that the Weasley Twins had disguised my chomped-on old Quick-Quotes Quill to look like a potions rod. Normally a potions rod is made of inert material like sealed stone or glass to prevent any influence on the brewing. Our spritely Subject 15 was no doubt affected by the magics in the QQQ. The fact that it hatched at all is nearly miraculous. When we turned back to check up on the hatchlings, we got another surprise.
"Where's the other two?"
"What happened to the rest of the Incubation Bath?"
Buuuurp.
Our surviving hatchling had doubled in size in a matter of minutes, no doubt from consuming its siblings and two quarts of the potent potion. It hasn't grown much in size since then, and seems happy to drink whatever fluid we give it. Another interesting fact- Newt leaves ink stains as it walks across parchment, and can actually enter my skin through my quilltip finger. When Newt is in there, my finger looks like it's saturated in oily ink, or perhaps made from tire rubber. I think Newt sleeps that way, as it seems to like going in there periodically. When active, Newt just climbs around, clinging to my body or hanging out as a tint in my hair. I can just see into Newt's eyes when I look at it up close, but Newt hasn't stopped moving long enough while out of my body for me to try sifting its mind. I don't know how to feel about this as far as my own biology goes, but there is no doubt in my mind; I love this little squirt.

Holly

*

19th December, 1993

Dear Harry,
I suppose I should introduce another in the pantheon of Professors at Hogwarts, to give you a frame of reference for what I'll need to write about next. This is important, or meaningless; it depends on how you view Divination.
Professor Trelawney embodies the vision you might have of a 40-ish suburban mom dressing up like a gypsy for a masquerade, except she's also legally blind. Her glasses look like she owes Prof. Sinestra for some stolen telescope parts. Aside from that, Sybill is an excellent instructor. She enjoys and values her subject and is delighted to explain it to the class with enthusiasm. The trick is you have to write down what she says over a month and put it back in order later (I'm exaggerating a little, but she talks out of order). Once I realised this I started to make real progress in Divination. My charts have come up with some unnervingly precise predictions. Even so, learning from her isn't half as fun as watching her work during her rare chronologically lucid periods. Such a period occurred after class today, when she asked me to stay and have tea with her. (Actually she said "Tea! As in our first lesson...Holly would you...and I hope you like sugar...stay here. Alright?" That's lucid for Sybill.)
Her scatterbrained ramble suggested that she likes my work but she'll miss me in class after January. I decided to press her for a full reading as she was unusually sober and friendly at that moment. The results were less than happy-making; her interpretation of the coming year shows me both dead and alive, rich and poverty-stricken, owning a fine home but living in a stone basement. Using the Numerology reference from her Divination collection, I was able to refine the meanings of the position and orientation of the cards. My version: before I return to school I'll be arrested, but my family will have grown; by springtime I'll be in jail and I'll have lost and gained an ally; before my next birthday I'll lose my innocence and my closest friend will be ...dead. All of this depends on significant choices, but ones I would find difficult to avoid. I already knew about the family growing from an earlier reading I did for homework, and here's Newt. This is why Divination annoys me; not because it doesn't work but that it does without offering any guidance. I suppose once you've heard the preview there's little chance of the symphony changing its tune. The other reason Divination frustrates me is that I can interpret like an oracle, but I can't generate anything meaningful if I do the selection. My cards come out in order, the tea leaves all clump at the bottom and my attempt at working with chicken entrails laid out the plan for the A11 Fiveways to Thetford. In hopes of sharing in a sample, I asked Professor Trelawney why she drinks so much. She said "it's ... yet; I have plenty of ...not your fault ...nightmares to suppress."
"Nightmares of things yet to happen?"
"No, no, little ...things I predicted ...cinnamon stick. Nightmares of those ...that did."
She also reminded me that I forgot to catch up with the Centaurs as the Acromantulas suggested.
Trelawney looked to be about to have a fit, but her small moonstone medallion shined and she shook her head, and then asked why I was still there as class had ended. Then she stood up and started looking for a bottle of sherry to dehydrate.

Then she stood up and started looking for a bottle of sherry to dehydrate.
Newt followed along as I was writing that last part, and started writing exactly what I wrote beneath it in a flowing script as you can see.
Newt followed along as I was writing that last part, and started writing exactly what I wrote beneath it in a flowing script as you can see.
Mum: "Here, Hermione! Come see this!"
Mum's friend who was maybe recently electrocuted: "Fascinating! I think you have a daughter there!"
Mum: "How do you figure?"
Mum's friend who fashions her hair as if inspired by scouring pads: "She obviously cares enough about the appearance of her handwriting to make it legible, more than yours at any rate. Most boys would never do that without encouragement."
That makes sense to me.
(Mum smiles at me.)
Mum: "I'm going to forego the argument about gender roles and unreasoned expectations, because Newt agrees with you."
Mum's friend with the seaweed on her head: "She heard me?"
Mum: "She's transcribing us! Newt, could you include a marker to keep track of who says what? Also, don't transcribe everything you hear. Hey cool! She can adjust the stuff already written!"
As you wish, only I can't change or erase what's been said. The ink won't let me.
Mum: "Can you read what's already written here?"
As I already have, that would be 'yes'.
Mum: "Well, then you should know there's a Compulsion in here that makes me write truth somehow. That's probably why you can't change the content. What do you think of your dear old Mum's life?"
I love my mother. She is a hero.
Mum: "I love you, too."
(Mum starts petting me on my head.)
Mum: "Please call Hermione by name and refer to me as Holly in the transcriptions. 'Mum' is a bit weird for me, as it's my journal."
Yes, Mum. Thank you, Mum. I'll use the QQQ standard format.
Hermione: (thoughtful) "I believe the Quick-Quotes Quill drained all of its accumulated knowledge of language, your writing style, and thus your personality into Newt during our brewing process. It probably didn't hurt that Newt drank the rest of the Incubation Bath, accelerating her development. I doubt it would work a second time, if you ...in case you wanted ...to try for something a little more ...biological."
Holly gave Hermione a look of affront and cocked an eyebrow as Hermione finished that thought.
Holly: "Well I think Newt turned out perfectly."
Thank you, Mum!
Hermione: "Of course! I think she's wonderful! I was just thinking we should make sure that the next batch is seeded without mixing it with saliva. Your offspring would probably be more solid without that taint ...in the sample."
Holly: (saucily) "I humbly suggest that YOU acquire the next source of material if you're so particular about it."
[pause]
"That wasn't meant to provoke thought, Hermione."
Hermione giggles and gives Holly a defiant look.
Holly: "Newt, darling, that's enough transcribing for now. We have Patronus practice and then we need to pack for the Express to London."
Transcription ends.
Nuut.
nEwT.
NeWt.
Gnoeutt.
There you are! Stop scribbling. I'll get you your own Everlasting Scroll for Christmas.
Thank you, Mum.

*

19th December, 1993 Part 2

Dear Harry,
During our last private session with Lupin before Christmas break, Hermione was having a nutter because her Patronus wouldn't resolve into a form. This is Newt's first official transcription, and I can't think of a better moment to commemorate it.

Transcription: 19th December, 1993 starting after 4 PM
Holly, Hermione and Professor Lupin are practising the Patronus Charm in the DADA lab room. The room is clear of all furniture and portraits save for a single desk at one side near the door and a bolted steamer chest at the far end. The desk is littered with some scrolls, a quill, a plate of bulk chocolate and a carafe of milk. The magical chest contains a Boggart and in front of the trunk a runic circle has been scribed onto the floor in thick white chalk.
Prof. Lupin: "Once more, Hermione. The charm on the floor should make the Boggart appear as a Dementor, so focus not upon your fears, but upon the most profound emotionally positive memory you can remember."
Hermione once again stands in a fencing position, and then nods to the Professor. Prof. Lupin gestures for the bolts to slide back on the magical chest, and the dark shadowy spectre of a Dementor rushes out to loom above Hermione, making a low echoing wind-like sound.
Hermione: "Expocto...Expeh...I...Oh, God I can't..."
Prof. Lupin: "Holly, if you would like to step in?"
Holly: "Nope."
Hermione turns suddenly to face Holly with fear and betrayal etched across her face.
Hermione: "Holly! Professor Lupin just told you..."
Holly: "Bloody Hell, Hermione! Keep your eyes on the threat!"
The Dementor lunges forward to strike out at Hermione, catching her throat in its claw. Hermione is shivering and twitching in horror while succumbing to the chilling effect of the Dementor's deathly aura.
Holly: (shaking her head) "I'm not stepping in, Hermione! Your life is at risk! Use anything you've got!"
Hermione: "D-diffindo! Expulso! Deprimo! Inflamare! "
The first three spells fail to affect the wraith, but the burst of fire from Hermione's wand forces the Boggart-Dementor to retreat, releasing her from its grip.
Hermione: "Expecto Patronum!"
A fine misty shield erupts from the end of Hermione's wand, pushing the Dementor back until it is sucked back into the trapped chest.
Prof. Lupin: "Excellent work. You were able to pull off the charm even under duress."
Hermione: "I am absolutely g-g-going to s-s-strike one or b-both of you!"
Holly walks up to the angry witch and starts rubbing her shoulders and back to help chase off the lingering chill from the faux-Dementor
Holly: "Hermione, do you want to learn or not? The reason I do better than you in this one subject is that the practical exceeds the theoretical in value. I've fought to survive my whole life! This is my sort of day. I'd love to have you cover my back or stand at my side, but thankfully you haven't been there for most of my dangerous encounters."
Hermione: "'Thankfully', b-because I'd b-be rub-b-bish t-to you..."
Holly: "Give us a moment, Professor."
Prof. Lupin shrugs and turns away to move to the desk and make some notes on a scroll there. Holly walks Hermione to the opposite corner of the room and tries to give her a hug but the frazzled bushy-haired witch shrugs away Holly's sympathy.
Holly: "You're wrong, Hermione. I said 'thankfully', because I haven't survived those encounters without significant scars, many of which ...you can't see. I prefer that you remain whole and undiminished. Nonetheless our world, our school, houses significant threats that we seem to have evaded by the grace of God or the last ergs of karma we earned in our previous life, so we need to learn practical Defense. You almost have this. What is holding you back?"
Hermione: "I...I just don't have a powerful enough memory to defeat this...thing! It isn't even a real Dementor and I know I don't have the power to..."
Holly grabs Hermione by both arms and shakes her, causing the despondent witch to look back into her friend's eyes. Holly loosens her grip, still holding Hermione close to ensure a private conversation.
Holly: "Hermione, you have that power! Just what memory are you using to feed your spell, anyhow?"
Hermione: "It was... when Professor McGonagall told me that I was magical. I had been in such a dark place, Holly. You have no idea. My firm understanding of the world around me was falling apart with every act of accidental magic. I thought I was going insane! Then this Mary Poppins-like woman comes in and proves that what was wrong was right all along."
Holly: "Not to be pushy, but why don't you try using a different, more...er-r-recent memory."
Hermione steps in closer to whisper to her friend.
Hermione: "Truthfully? Our intimate times are powerful experiences, but to me they're confusing. I love doing ...things...with you, but it always makes me more anxious in the end."
Holly: "Oh, Hermione! Why didn't you tell me?"
Hermione: "Again, truthfully? I...I don't want to stop. You are amazing, and you make me feel... Also, I would follow you into fire, and that scares me as well."
Holly looks at Hermione with a combination of hope and bewilderment, and then notes that Professor Lupin is beginning to look impatient.
Holly: "I ...uhh, let's set that aside for a moment. The Patronus Charm isn't about finding a thought that makes you feel safe. It acts as your attack dog. You are presenting a memory as proof that you're better than this creature, more worthwhile, and that you could present this memory to a court if needed to prove that you are loved, and worthy of that love."
Hermione: "Well, I understand your analogy, but I don't think either my original thought or ...those memories of us together would do that for me. I just wouldn't...believe it."
Holly: "Hermione take this, what I'm about to say, and burn it in your brain somewhere so that you can always find it when you need it. Ready?"
Hermione: (sigh) "Alright."
Holly: "Hermione, never doubt that I love you. I love you, even if we never kiss again, though I hope to kiss you daily for a century or two, and make your toes curl every time. And never doubt, it was your own fault!"
Hermione's look of discomfort changes into an irritated scowl.
Hermione: "My fault? My fault?"
Holly: "Absolutely. You befriended me even after I laughed at you for using the toilet to vomit after the Troll was killed, and months later you gave me the most amazing gift I had ever received, and you gave it without a second thought."
Hermione's scowl changes to a look of confusion. Holly starts speaking more openly, taking a half step backward.
Holly: "You gave me the first indication I can remember that someone, namely you, would be upset if I didn't continue being alive. 'Don't you die in there.' you said, 'I would feel severely put out!' That's the memory which charges my Patronus. You ...are an unrepentant seductress of innocent hard-lucked heroes. I am devoted to you for that, and for all the other ways that you are you. You are better than me, and I worship you."
Holly has been blushing and grinning as she finishes her declaration. Hermione is tearing up, staring at her friend with a troubled expression.
Hermione: "H-holly, I don't deserve..."
Holly: "Expecto Matronas Hermioniesque!"
Holly's Patronus emerges differently than the Hedwig-shaped form that usually erupts from Holly's wand, forming now as a silvery-white echo of a five and a half foot tall bushy-haired witch in a school uniform with her hands on her skirted hips. Looking closely, you can see the Patronus mouthing the words 'Language isn't like that!'
Hermione breaks down in tears and rushes to hug Holly full force. The ghostly Patronus moves to embrace the couple as well, and then dissipates.
Prof. Lupin: "Well, I didn't see that coming."
Muffled from within their hug, Hermione speaks.
Hermione: "Quiet, Professor Oatmeal. We're having a moment."
Holly: (whispers) "Go, Granger!"
Hermione: (also whispering) "Hush, Holly. I'm already mortified. (sniff). I don't know how you do this to me. I'm becoming positively disrespectful."
Holly: "Welcome to the Dark side...we have ice cream."
Hermione: "You are so (sniff) ...silly!"
Holly: "Yeah well, I doubt anyone else would agree with you."
Hermione steps back from Holly, closes her eyes, raises her wand and whispers.
Hermione: "Expecto Patronum."
Hermione's eyes reopen as mist starts to erupt from her wand, and then begins to form into a giant zig-zag shape. Hermione's eyes bulge out and she cancels the spell. Holly begins to grin widely.
Prof. Lupin: "Eh? I thought it was forming into something, but then you cancelled it."
Hermione: (nervously wiping away tears) "Mission accomplished, Professor! I...uhh...I got it! We need to go pack for the Express! We'll see you after the holidays, yes?"
Prof. Lupin: "Very well. Happy Christmas, girls."
Holly collects their bags and quickly catches up with Hermione as she has already sprinted out of the DADA lab. Holly jogs up to Hermione, whose blush looks almost like a sunburn.
Holly: (whispering) "Is it my imagination, or did your Patronus take the form..."
Hermione: (whispering threateningly between clenched teeth) "Shuuuut iiit!"
Holly: "...of a giant forked tongue?"
Hermione: "Oh! You are never going to let me live this down, are you?"
Holly: "Hermione, my goddess, I am honored. But no. If only in private, let the teasing commence."
Hermione: "I am once more seriously considering un-inviting you."
Transcription ends.
I agree with Hermione, Mum. You're silly.

*


20th December, 1993

Dear Harry,
I have never had a harder time trying to get from the castle to Hogsmeade.
First there was Professor Dumb.
Transcription: 20th December, 1993 starting in the late morning, 10-ish I think
Albus Dumbledore stands near the entrance doors as Holly and Hermione approach.
Prof. Dumb: "Miss Evans, might I have a moment before you depart for the holidays? You needn't bother waiting Miss Granger; this will only take a moment."
Hermione: "And yet I have no reason to not wait, Professor."
Holly: "It doesn't bother me if Hermione hears our conversation, Headmaster, but to accommodate you- Hermione, I'll catch up, alright?"
Hermione: "If you're sure..."
Holly: "Absolutely."
Hermione steps away to exit out the massive doors into the bright winter day.
Prof. Dumb: "Well, I merely wished to convey my delight in seeing that you were returning to your relatives for the holidays. I thought you may have forgotten to inform them of your time of arrival, so I took it upon myself to send them a missive informing them to pick you up at the station."
Holly: "That was ...unfortunate, Professor. I was going to do some Christmas shopping once we had arrived in London, and had planned to take the Knight Bus afterwards so that my Uncle wouldn't be put out of his way."
Prof. Dumb: "I'm sure he'll be pleased to assist you in your shopping now that he's already prepared to meet you."
Holly: "Professor, in the interest of satisfying my curiosity, why do you care?"
Prof. Dumb: "To put it succinctly Miss Evans, it isn't safe for you to go anywhere else. With Sirius Black still on the loose, your best defense is to remain here or at the Dursleys."
Holly: "Sirius Black has already broken into this castle twice, and the second time he went straight for the boy’s dorm. I'm not sure how you can suggest I would be safer here nor why he would pursue me at all as his focus seems to be on Harry. Supposing he were to inexplicably track me down at the Dursleys, what could possibly deter him from entering and killing us all, seeing how I can't use magic there?"
Prof. Dumb: "I...am merely caring for your welfare, Holly. Please do not venture from your family's home this holiday, if only to calm an old man's fears."
Holly: "No worries, Professor. I'll be staying with those who love me the whole time."
Holly turns and walks out of the castle. Holly pulls out a spare piece of parchment from her quiver and writes a note using her quilltip finger. The note reads:
Dursleys,
Please don't bother coming to London to pick me up. Instead, use the enclosed money to buy a bottle of cheer for the season, and raise a glass in toast to me if the feeling moves you. It would be best to assume this arrangement whenever you are asked to retrieve me, as I would not want to impose on your time and have other means to travel when needed.
Holly Evans

Holly: "Dobby."
Dobby the House-elf appears with a pop, standing at attention like a soldier.
Dobby: (squeak)
Holly: "Take this cash and leave it with this note under it on the kitchen table in the house where we first met. Wait hidden to see how the adults react. If they look like they might yet come to London for me, break their auto. Do you understand?"
Dobby: "Oh, yes Mistress Holly! Thank you for this wonderful yuletide gift! Dobby will make sure the mean and fat people stay home!"
Dobby disappears with a snap.
Holly: (Sigh) "Every time he calls me 'Mistress Holly', I feel like I should be wearing a leather corset and brandishing a riding crop."
That's weird, Mum.
Transcription ends.

Then there was Padma Patil.
Transcription: 20th December, 1993 starting in the late morning, closer to 11.
Holly approaches Hermione waiting in front of a Thestral-drawn carriage. Padma Patil walks up to intercept the girls as they are about to climb in.
Hermione: "Hello, Padma. Holly, this is Padma Patil, Parvati's twin sister. She is in my Arithmancy study group, in case you ever saw us there. Heading out for the holidays, Padma?"
Padma: "No I am not, but I have a question for Holly. May I join you in your carriage ride?"
Holly: "There's room, certainly."
All three girls enter the carriage. After a minute it starts moving with a lurch.
Padma: "I understand you are close, so I hope I am not revealing any secrets by talking with you about this."
Holly: "Hmm, intrigue! I think it's unlikely Hermione will be scandalised by my behavior at this point."
Hermione: "God's truth, that."
Padma: "Well...I...this is very difficult."
Holly: "Padma, if you're embarrassed, it has to do with boys, girl topics or grades. I don't compete at your level and almost everyone is better-educated than I am about girl issues, so I assume this has to do with boys."
Padma: "That's very perceptive of you. Yes, this has to do with ...boys. A specific boy, really."
Holly: "Dean."
Padma: "Yes. I... find myself intrigued by Mr. Dean Thomas. I engaged him in conversation about our families and such, but after an hour of delightful discourse he became quite nervous and asked me to speak to you before approaching him again. It was...quite odd. Why would he ask me to speak to you about this?"
Hermione: "Yes, Holly. Tell us. Why does Dean Thomas need your approval to speak to girls casually?"
Holly: (Sigh) "Well, Padma, that's because Dean Thomas can make a girl magically follow his vocal commands without a wand. I caught him out at the end of an unexpectedly intimate encounter between us and threatened his livelihood should he ever attempt to force a girl I know to do such a thing ever again. He's poison, Padma. You're best warned off before you get in too deep."
Padma: "I understand. Would you be upset if he and I continued to associate, then?"
Hermione: "Padma, weren't you paying attention? He can force you to do things against your will! Why would you willingly expose yourself to that?"
Padma: "I...I...I have my reasons."
Holly: "I think I understand but I won't assume I'm right. As I usually don't just give things away, I wonder if you might have a book or two on magical traditions from your heritage you'd be willing to share? It's not a requirement, just something I'd enjoy as I've had a brief and incomplete exposure to some concepts that I'd like to read more about. As far as your involvement with Dean, just let us know if something happens that upsets you. Promise me that. I figure if you know what he's capable of, you can check yourself periodically to see if you're veering into squicky territory."
Padma: "I'm sorry. Squicky?"
Hermione: "Hah! Don't ask. Just assume she meant 'uncomfortable' territory."
Holly: "Always with the extra syllables with you..."
Hermione: "It's not a word!"
Holly: "It is!"
Transcription ends, as the rest of the conversation was quite silly.
Newt, you're editing now?
You are not the boss of me.
OK. Fine.

Then the twins stepped up, though Hermione and I had already planned how to handle that situation.
Transcription: 20th December, 1993 starting around noon, maybe a little before.
Padma, Holly and Hermione disembark from their carriage. Padma immediately turns to walk back to the castle with a friendly wave and an expression of mixed confusion and hope. As Holly lifts Hermione's trunk from the luggage rack, Fred and George Weasley walk up.
Fred: "Salutations! We were wondering when our mighty mistresses of mischief might emerge from their..."
George: "...'secret brewing sessions', wink, wink!"
Fred: "You wouldn't believe some of the things we've seen in the Map upon a Sunday afternoon..."
George: "...or perhaps you might, as being is believing!"
Holly and Hermione share a look then split off, each taking a twin by the arm, Holly leaving the trunk on the ground.
Hermione: (whispering) "George..."
George leans down to hear Hermione's whisper and finds himself being kissed on the lips quite lovingly.
Holly: "Fred..."
Holly reaches up to capture Fred's face gently in her hands, pulling him down to be kissed by Holly quite passionately.
As both girls finish kissing their selected twin, they reel back and hit the boy in front of them with a solid punch. George is caught by surprise and ends up with a split lip. Fred finds himself on the ground after Holly's punch spins him completely about.
Both Twins: "Oi!"
Hermione: "Happy Christmas! We have a warning for you! Don't you..."
Holly: "...mess with our..."
Hermione: "...potions tools..."
Both girls: "...EVER AGAIN!"
The girls stalk off, Holly grabbing Hermione's trunk.
George: "Right!"
Fred: "Never again!"
George: "Wouldn't dream of it!"
Fred: "Man, she can hit!"
George: "I bet the kiss was equally more powerful."
Fred: "Are you complaining?"
George: "Of course not! Hermione's was sweet. Besides, you're the dumb one. I wouldn't be caught dead criticising either of them."
Transcription ends.

And finally, of all people, Seamus Finnegan had to obstruct our entry to the train.
Another transcription starts:
Seamus: "A moment, ladies?"
Holly: "What's on..."
(There's a brief pause while Hermione catches up with Holly's dangling sentence.)
Hermione: "oh, uh...your mind, Seamus?"
Seamus: "Like the Weasley boys, you are. Anyhoo, I was wonderin', Hermione, uh, if'n you...would you...would like to sing another song while we're on the train?'"
Hermione: "Oh! Uh, perhaps..."
Seamus: "Y'know, somethin' ta boost the spirits of the huddled masses, like. I ...I really enjoyed our time that first Care o' Creatures class, yeh? We could sit with the mates inna large carriage, if you like."
Hermione: "Well, Holly and I...umm."
Hermione looks to Holly for aid, but Holly just stares back with a bemused expression. Hermione's face changes from mild panic to a jaunty resolve.
Hermione: "That would be fine, Seamus. I know a tune that might suit the mood, and if others are familiar with it, they can join in."
Seamus looks between the two girls who are engaging in a private discussion using only subtle facial changes until they both burst into laughter.
Holly: "Yah, Seamus. If it won't hedge your style, we'll both join you in the large train car. I promise no harm shall come to anyone who behaves civilly."
Seamus: "Well, that's a bonus! Can I carry your trunk, Hermione?"
Hermione: "Certainly! How gallant. If Holly had hers, I'm sure she would appreciate the help as well. Where is your trunk, Holly?"
Holly: "Inside yours."
Hermione: "But how will you unshrink...?"
Holly: "Hmm, I don't know. It's a mystery."
Seamus: "Cor, you're a lark Evans! Sorry, make that 'Holly'!"
Transcription ends.

If I didn't know better, I might think people like me. Maybe this being in love thing is making me approachable. Weird. Speaking of weird, Newt is making a noise like a squeak to get my attention. Write your piece, Newt.
Mum, can I fly to the Grangers with Auntie Hedwig?
I'll ask.
(Mum must have used a Rapport, as she didn't say anything but just stared into Auntie Hedwig's eyes.)
Alright, little Newt, but don't get in her eyes and if you get lost, try to find a light-colored space visible from the sky to wait until she finds you.
Yay!
Newt just jumped from the page to grip onto Hedwig's talon. The poor dear was trying to shake Newt off but she hung on like a tenacious gob of spit. They're flying away from the train now that Newt has moved to Hedwig's back. I think maybe I'll sleep for the rest of the trip. Taking care of children is tiring.

Holly

*

Spiral Tangents:
In "9312 Holly Dates Dean" Holly makes an attempt at a more 'traditional' relationship with Dean Thomas, but the player takes Holly's aggressive attitude as an invitation, using his magical talent for enhancing his Look and his Voice to coerce Holly into performing oral sex for him. Holly snaps to clarity and decides to finish off Dean's blow so she can capture the sperm for her own purposes. Written in a 'he said, she said' format.

Author's Note: This episode is dedicated to fanfic author Angry Hermione a.k.a. Hotaru; because Holly will never call her anything but Hermione. Obscure comments of things being 'a mystery' are actually a reference to the movie "Shakespeare in Love". I think after this section, my fluffy urges are done for a while. Being a romantic, I'm probably wrong about that.