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Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related concepts are owned by someone who isn't me. I will never seek or accept money for the circulation of this work.



Brief Summary of the Tangent: Dobby presented Holly with the remodeled house at 106 Matchstick Court, which Holly refers to as the Nautilus. Hermione learned much about Holly's recent past, Lily's magic and her capacity for sex. Holly sloughed away the ego-destroying taint of Allure that Fleur had left on her during their duel at the Ball. Sirius and Holly bonded as he taught her about motorcycles, old Black family curses and how to aim properly. Moony got remote-dumped by Natalia and decided (after deflecting Hermione's follow-on seduction attempt) that maybe he should date people his own age. Holly had a long chat with Barty Crouch, Sr. about Albus, Tom and politics. Albus showed up as Minerva's date to their New Year's dinner, causing her to suffer a minor heart attack for inadvertently betraying Holly's trust. Albus was then captured and questioned, but he suggested that they settle their differences over drinks at a bowling alley. Strangely, Holly accepted.



Holly Evans and the Spiral Path

Chapter 45: Auld Lang Syne (and Old Acquaintances, forgotten)



/*/



1st January, 1995



Mum,



Newt's going to catch you up on the highlights, here. Please take it easy for the next decade or so. I want you to stick around.



The Tale of Rolling and Pitching



Two motorcycles pull into the unlit car park of the Bowlplex in Pucklechurch this wintry night. The first is an older bike with a sidecar, driven by a thin, scruffy man with dark hair. His passenger extracts himself from the sidecar- a tall, elderly man wearing what appears to be finely-made nightclothes. The second bike is a more modern cycle, coloured cherry-red. Upon parking, both of its riders dismount- a pair of young women, the shorter one in front.



The four people approach the entrance to the darkened hall. The elderly man makes a sweeping gesture and the doors to the establishment open, lights within turning on of their own accord. Once the ladies are escorted in through the doors, the black-haired man turns back to view the lane and makes a similar wave as the older man had. As he recedes into the building, a shimmer passes over the place, restoring it (at least visually) to the state it had been in before their arrival.



/~o~/



Tonks expresses a small measure of discontent as she dumps her helmet and short overcoat onto a side table. "Y'know, if it wasn't for your interference, Hols wouldn'ta burned the casserole and corn bread. This place better have some food."

Albus responds, "It does, though I doubt it will be anything quite as nutritious as your planned feast. Please, everyone, find some tight-fitting shoes and I shall rally something from the fryer. Lane 3 is now open."

/~o~/

Once the visitors have settled in for the snacking and bowling, Albus initiates the more serious conversation that drew them to this venue.

"You have a vigilante group operating in my school, Miss Evans. I would like that to stop."

Holly scowls at the Headmaster. "Then do your job by protecting the students. Vigilantes only rise up to act when the law is toothless or corrupt enough as to allow crime to flourish."

"Our prefects are neither corrupt nor toothless!"

"Of course not- four of them are my deputies and at least one more should be, once Professor Flitwick replaces the one I broke. What I don't understand is where your arrangements were going to be able to help anyone- I had to teach nearly all of them the spells that can best handle a situation- Stunners, Disarming and Binding hexes and Shields should be part of the basic skill set for prefects; if it was my choice I'd teach them to everyone third year and above."

"We've had some difficulties in keeping a solid curriculum in Defense--"

"No, you've had problems keeping teachers in the position. The curriculum should have been set long ago."

"Let us not debate this, as it strays far from the more timely issues we need to discuss."

"Which are?"

"Your image, your behavior and the circumstances of the first Task of the Tournament."

"You brought me here to humbly tell me what I've done wrong and what I should do about it?"

Sirius pipes in from the edge of the lane. "Now, Holly. Be nice to the old educator. He's got a long list of sins to carry around and that can't be good for his back."

Albus squints at Sirius before replying mildly, "Sirius, I believe there is a poodle in Luxembourg still looking for you to provide child support. Should I have her brought here, or will you be seeing to her personally?"

"I... will be bowling if you need me. Tonks- let me show you how this is done before you break another chandelier."

Holly turns to Albus with a worried look. "That was either disturbing or unfortunate."

"Disturbing?"

"Depends on whether that poodle is metaphorical."

"I assure you, she is human. Her children are nearly young adults and struggling with their uneven education, as your father was incarcerated before he could attend to their needs. Along with an adoptive father, you now have step-siblings, though their mother wants nothing to do with her former paramour, beyond funding. I have no idea how she feels about you, but I would doubt that her feelings are warm, as her information about you has come solely from the press."

"I have close relatives? At Hogwarts?"

"Beauxbatons. They aren't old enough to have come for the Tournament. Which brings me back to my 'agenda', as you put it. Your willful actions are making a travesty of this contest."

"Willful? I'm handling this as ably and carefully as I can muster. Remember- Harry was supposed to be competing, not me. Now that I'm in it, I'll milk it for everything it offers."

"I did not arrange for this competition so that you could profit from it. Is it possible for you to simply attend class and do your best without subterfuge or other machinations on your part?"

"Doubtful. I am in Slytherin, you know."

~Albus throws a strike. Holly gutters, then gets five.~

"That circumstance was not of my choosing."

"Of course not! That's what you get for forging an intelligent weapon- it turns on you."

"Miss Evans, you were never meant to be a weapon--"

"No, that would be Harry. Harry was to be your tool. Why else would you arrange to isolate him from magical society, except to keep him oblivious of his roles, responsibilities, privileges and powers? You've admitted to me that I was meant to die in this cause, just as you arranged for my parents to die. Pardon me for getting uppity in wanting to live a full life."

"All I have ever wanted was to protect you."

Holly stands to face the Headmaster with a fiery mien. "You want to protect me? Protect my money! Kill the bastard that murdered so many! Change this society so that it's worth living in it!"

"I... cannot."

Holly glares at the sullen Headmaster for a moment. Her quiet but tense response carries the tone of a teacher speaking down to a difficult student. "Did you try and fail, or did you calculate your chances and decide against it?"

Dumbledore snaps an angry look at Holly, but bites back an immediate response. He stares at her for a full minute before his shoulders sag and he utters, "... the latter."

"And that's why you lost. You weren't willing to risk losing completely, so you lost at the level you were comfortable, sacrificing the fewest key pieces you could to assure a temporary stalemate. Mr. Crouch has been illuminating me in matters of chess, including in particular, your historic matches. I understand your choices, but I don't agree with them."

"Ah- I had wondered from where these new insights were derived. I take it you have a different strategy?"

"Yes."

"I would very much like to hear it."

"That's not a part of the strategy. For as long as you withhold key facts, important resources and your own plans, you're a rival on the board."

"That is a recipe for disaster. Divided, the forces of the Dark Lord will surely tear us all apart. How can we become allies?"

"Assume that the truth is a bare minimum requirement. Talk to me like an adult. Treat me with the respect I've earned."

"Earned? You've earned a stretch in Azkaban, already, Miss Evans."

"Y'know, it might help motivate you, if you were to briefly count in your head how many times my actions have corrected your mistakes: with the Stone; with Lockhart, the Chamber and Ginny; with Dean's potential victims; with Hermione; with Cedric; with Flint; with Pansy; with Sirius; with the Montgomery family at the Quidditch Cup; with the orphan firsties; with the RE-class; with Director Crouch; with ME! Count, if you please, how many children might be corrupted, molested, mutilated or even dead by now because of you, if not for me. Then tell me which of us is the true leader of the light. The real hero."

Albus sits in thought, his twinkling gaze barely focused upon the steady eyes of the witch before him. Finally, he frowns and bows his head. "Minerva was right. I see it, now."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Has our agenda changed?"

"Yes. I would like to... (harrumph)... apologise for all that I've tried to do, which has seen fit to play out disastrously whenever you were involved."

"Good start. It's your turn to bowl."

~Albus throws an eight on the dreaded seven-ten split, and can't pick up the spare. Holly gets seven. ~

"I'd also like to offer you a few things in compensation. For one, I think you should train privately with Alastor Moody upon his return. I can arrange this outside of the rules of the Tournament as it applies to a greater cause. So long as you do not discuss the unfinished Tasks of the Tournament with him, we shall be in compliance."

"Given that we've already revealed that I was an unwilling participant due to Crouch, Jr.'s interference, shouldn't the Tournament be cancelled or restarted?"

"What do you think?"

"Huh. I think there's a reason you arranged for this thing at this specific time, and I think that the Goblet of Fire doesn't care about the intrigues that brought about my participation."

"Right on both counts. I invited the two other premier magical schools of Europe to come here in order to evaluate the potential threat from continental recruitment, should Voldemort return to full power."

"Hang on. If these are just the best schools, what about the rest of them?"

"In truth, most small colleges of magic have a specialty. Their attendees pay whatever they can, which is usually very little, for education in the most basic control of their magic and usually only a very narrow focus of a few particular areas of higher study- enchantment of written things, broom-making, or the handling of restless spirits. It's a limitation of having a small teaching staff with limited supplies and no doubt a very small library- four instructors for two hundred students is a successful college, but how many could truly instruct in a full and balanced range of subjects? Only a few warlocks could claim full competence to educate in nearly every discipline, and I already have a job."

"Humility, sir, is only becoming when it is true."

"My apologies. To my point; a wizard or witch trained at one of these academies is rarely more than a nuisance as a combatant- they are specialists, who are taught what to say and how, but not the why, or how it connects to other disciplines. Even the graduates of duelling academies are barely versed in areas outside of spells acceptable on the duelling line. They may be faster, but their mind is oriented towards making the 'touch', not stopping their opponent from being able to cast spells for the foreseeable future. A Hogwarts education puts our most accomplished alumni close to their first Mastery, when it would be a lifetime achievement for a small academy graduate to receive one. How you are taught at the beginning is critical to the understanding of magic as a greater field of study. We are blessed to have so many true educators amongst our teachers."

"I see. So, what have you discovered about the other premier schools?"

"Madame Maxime is a competent and committed educator, and her students are strong on theory but weaker in practical applications, at least in the areas of immediate magic. Their enchanting and potion-making programs are remarkable."

"So Western Europe is less of a threat in terms of combatants."

"Exactly that. Unfortunately, Professor Karkaroff has learned well how to teach the practical arts, the Dark arts, and an agenda of blood-supremacy. It did not require his influence, as Durmstrang has been an exclusively pure-blood school from its inception, but he has embraced its values as his own."

"Viktor and Ilya seem to be all right blokes. Stan, too, aside from his VD."

"His what?"

"Nothing. Just girl gossip. You're up, again."

~Albus throws a spare. Holly gets her first strike. ~

"As you say, the character of the students is not in lockstep with Professor Karkaroff's values, but enough of the better students are, such that it gives me great concern. I had hoped Igor had decided to take a nobler path after his time in Azkaban."

"He was caught? Why was he released? Ah- he must have turned in some others."

"You don't seem surprised to hear that he was convicted of crimes in Britain."

"He and Professor Snape were comparing ink during the Ball. I happened to overhear a snippet that suggested he would be in trouble should Riddle return, as their tattoos were hinting may be likely."

"Yes, well, Professor Karkaroff was released from Azkaban after revealing Barty Crouch, Jr.'s membership in the Death Eaters and his participation in... related crimes."

"I don't see why he should be nervous, then. He fairly destroyed the career of the senior-most law enforcer of the time while enabling his own release. Riddle should pat him on the head."

"Apparently, Igor doesn't have faith in the Dark Lord's forgiveness the way that you do."

"Well, I'm not your typical Dark Lady, being so reasonable and all."

~Albus throws a strike. Holly is distracted by a kiss from Natalia, rolling three after a gutter but appearing to calm down, noticeably. ~

"I know you aren't truly Dark, Holly. I would caution you, though; the path you are leading is venturing perilously close to that precipice. How do you see yourself, in the public eye?"

"Until this year, I didn't care how I was seen by the public, but I suppose it matters, now. I figure I'm two steps away from being put back in prison, but as long as I can dodge committing actual crimes, public opinion will see my continued freedom as a failure of the current administration to keep order."

"You would act as a symbol of chaos. Anarchy for its own sake?"

"It's more a reaction to bad rule; anarchy so that better foundations can be built from the ruins. It doesn't hurt that Fudge's Ministry keeps making my case for me. That's why I provoked the toad lady. Of course, she asked for it..."

"Yes, she did. Be careful of Undersecretary Umbridge, Miss Evans. She has unusually strong ties to the current administration, and to pureblood interests."

~Albus bowls another strike. Holly picks up six on the frame. ~

"Tell me; would you have truly had her whipped?"

Holly throws up her hands in mock protest. "Everyone doubts me! Of course not- for one, I barely have enough proven rights to make claim to my titles. Even Professor Garvin knows that my status hangs by a thread- I have no idea how Madame Umbridge fell for all that double-talk."

"That may be due to my influence. Anyone who has attended Hogwarts in the last four decades is likely to believe what I say, if it sounds plausible enough."

"Everyone, except me and my close friends with the jade rings."

"Quite. Tell me, if you were in my position and could add a simple potion to extend your influence throughout society and keep control in your school, would you take advantage of the opportunity?"

"I'm considering it now. How did our detecting of your scheme change the play?"

"Well, I'd say some of the boys have grown quite rambunctious."

"You're saying that their crimes are my fault?"

"No, but it has made running the school a bit more difficult."

"How will you deal with me, in the public eye?"

"I will treat you as the troublemaker that you are. My concern now is how it will affect your friends and allies. You are building an image to inspire revolt, but you also teach responsibility and order. It confuses many, and puts the Weasleys and Miss Granger in a perilous position. How do you think Harry would treat you, were he a separate person?"

"He... he would... "

Sirius returns to the conversation, followed by Natalia hopping on one foot from a mishandled ball being dropped.

"Harry would denounce you for your actions but support your intentions. Harry and Holly can offer two sides of the same argument; change is needed. They can do it willingly, Harry's way, or the Unholy Evans will decide how to do it for them. I disagree that Holly is sending mixed messages. She has been consistent in acknowledging the value of structure while showing disdain for following mindless traditions. If it seems complicated to you, Albus, I suggest you look over the rise of Socialism in the last hundred years. It's our turn to lose our class distinctions."

~Albus bowls a strike. ~

"Am I hearing more of Remus in your thinking?"

"Yes. He and Miss Granger and some conversations with Lily are finally sinking into my firewhiskey-soaked brain. I'm ready to give up my name to the cause."

~Sirius switches places with Holly as she returns from her spare. ~

"Can you accept this, Headmaster?"

"I believe so. I should have known already, as I have been impressed by your efforts for a long time now. I am careful only to laugh privately."

"You actually like what I've done?"

"It's a masterful strategy, now that I can see it clearly. Harry rises as the humble hero, his half-sister is the darkness at the edge of the unknown; the honest public will fear you as unpredictable, and the less ethical sort will find you fascinating, whether for your adventures or for your... sexual reputation. At the same time Harry will be the public's darling and a bounty for political interests. Soon you will have inroads throughout society. Would you tell me; what will you do when all of your pieces have been put into place?"

Holly gives Albus a cheeky glare. "Win."

~Albus smiles ruefully, and then rises to take his turn in the lane. His graceful bowl completes in another strike. Holly follows, first bowling a gutter but then completing with eight pins. She shrugs before returning to their conversation. ~

"So, training with Auror Moody. That sounds good. Is he better than you?"

"No, but for you to benefit from my tutelage we need to bring your skills up to his level. Once he has declared you suitable, I will take over your instruction."

"Brilliant. What's in it for you?"

"Redemption, if I'm much more lucky than I deserve."

"Are you saying we'll finally be working as partners?"

"I would offer you an apprenticeship, but I doubt you would wish to take the vows involved. Can you trust me enough to accept this offer in the spirit it is intended? Would you allow me to make up for my past... mistakes?"

"That's a really good question. What brought about this change of heart, anyway?"

"Minerva suggested that I imagine you as Lily, suddenly de-aged, memoryless and being raised by her spiteful sister. Then imagine her growing through ten years of abuse meant to break her will, and yet surviving admirably because she has an adult's sophisticated perspective on all that childish behavior."

~Albus throws a nine. Holly tosses a spare, barely. ~

"Soooo... Mum said, 'You idiot, that's not Harry as a girl, that's a bisexual Lily with an attitude!' and you finally got it?"

"(Sigh) Yes, Miss Evans. I finally 'got' it."

"Then I'd say 'yes'."

"Yes?"

"Yes, you have a chance to make up for your past mistakes. Just don't give my godmum any more heart attacks and I might even invite you for holiday supper next year."

/~o~/

"You should really try this with a lighter ball, Miss Evans. It will grant you greater control if the mass is more suited to your strength and grip."

Holly frowns, then strides over to the racks of bowling balls, selecting a pearly pink sphere from the 'shallow end'.

She steps up to the lane, sets the ball before her chin and thinks briefly. She steps once, her arm swings back, but instead of walking the few paces and rolling the ball along the wood planking, she whirls her arm in a cricket-pitching motion, flinging the orb straight into the pins without it ever touching the lane. Two pins snap from the force of the impact, and the scoreboard registers her final turn as a strike.

Nat and Sirius join the headmaster in staring agog at Holly's pitch.

"I was trying to be gentle. Boys like that in girls, I hear."

Sirius snickers. "I taught her that!"

/~o~/

The four sit around a table, drinking ale from large steins and snacking on warm tortillas and picante. Albus swallows his latest sampling, and then turns to Sirius, briefly laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Sirius, it is good to see you in such health after your ordeal. I'm so sorry; I was undone by your alleged betrayal. It wasn't until later that I began to see the holes in the story that led to your interment. By then, well, my political capital had been greatly strained by trying to guide our leadership away from creating laws out of fears. Even so, there never seemed to be enough cause to push for re-opening your case."

Holly scowls in thought, and then asks, "Why not? If you doubted his guilt in the slightest, I would think a review would be a priority. This wasn't a case of a known criminal finally falling to darkness. He used to be an Auror, and an ally."

"As you may have discovered, Miss Evans, most prisoners of Azkaban lose the capacity for coherent thought within a year of their incarceration; that is, all except for the Death Eaters." Albus turns a troubled look back towards Sirius. "I had heard reports of your resilient sanity, and... doubted my doubts, you might say."

"We were well-buggered by Wormtail, Albus. It's done. Now, we need to plan for the future, and the rise of my daughter as the Ministry's official pain-in-their-arse."

"You truly understand and agree with Holly's plans?"

"Absolutely. The Black name is so far from redemption, we may as well sacrifice it to further our 'nobler' goals. I am also hoping to redeem myself in a new identity." Sirius then flicks out a parchment-coloured business card. "I am Mr. Pink, of Letters of Marque Enterprises, and I'd like to make you an offer, to aid in the aggrandizing of your Tournament."

"Mr. Pink?"

"Holly insisted. Apparently it is both trendy and proper revenge for a mistake I made earlier."

"Restitution, Padfoot. Revenge is an act of anger. Everyone else who saw the movie thinks it's appropriately funny."

Albus smiles. "Ah. Then perhaps I'll leave the mystery alone and you can make your 'pitch'. What does L. of M. Enterprises sell, Mr. Pink?"

Sirius glowers at Holly, and then takes on the air of a sales pitchman. "We at LOM have developed a collection of spells and runes that will be able to display the action of the competitors for your audience to view, even though they may be distant or obscured by terrain or magic. Your second Task will be much more interesting to the observers if they can see the obstacles and how the champions deal with them, yes?"

Albus turns towards Holly with a suspicious eye. "Miss Evans, have you already solved the mystery of the golden egg?"

"Not exactly. Ludo Bagman was just bursting to hint to me all sorts of clues to aid in his gambling. One almost didn't need Legilimency to know what he was thinking. I know what the Task is, I just don't know what the egg does, or who you're planning to capture as our incentive hostages."

"That is against the rules of fair play, Miss Evans."

"So's the Felix potion, having to fight two dragons and showing only some of the competitors the dragons ahead of time, but 'fair' would only be important if this was a sport."

"Very well. Can you give me a demonstration of your wares, Mr. Pink?"

"Certainly."

Sirius pulls out a piece of parchment and lays it on the table. He then stands up and walks around the bar, casting a series of charms for a few minutes. Upon his return, Sirius taps the parchment and mumbles an extended Latinate phrase. The layout of the bowling alley begins to appear on the parchment in ink, complete with shadow-shapes to represent the four occupants sitting at the table, each with a floating label listing their name, though Sirius' label says 'Mr. Pink'.

"Natalia, could you do something acrobatic for the sake of demonstration, please?"

"Acrobatic? Just me? Sure, take all the fun out of it..."

"My presentation has enough sexy with you and my daughter in the room. Please leave your clothes on."

"Alright..."

Natalia stands up and initiates a series of cartwheels and tumbles across the room. After the first set of movements, Sirius lays down a second enchantment and the ink figures now appear to float three feet above the parchment, with each of the four beings represented by an inky blob in their exact shape and position. The display reflects Natalia's floor acrobatics as she tumbles back to the table, snatching her ale and drinking it while doing a one-armed handstand. Natalia's effort falls apart when the ale runs up her nose and she collapses into a fit of hysterics over her own antics.

Dumbledore smiles at Sirius and says, "I believe you'll have a deal, Mr. Pink. Let's discuss terms."

Holly scowls at her friend beneath the table. "And you're cut off, Natalia. Y'know, for an Auror, you're a lightweight."

Natalia continues cackling with glee.

Or so the story is told.

That's the gist of it, Mum. Albus is now at least attempting to work with us, rather than insisting we follow him blindly and without guidance.

I'm glad you're recovering, and I still say we should cancel that vow you made to me, but I understand why you want to keep it in place.

Just don't bring your dates to my house anymore.

Love and comedy!

Holly

/*/

5th January, 1995

Dear Holly,

Is it my imagination, or did the end of term exams for Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions reflect a full grade bump, in comparison to their peers, for every one of your RE-class students? I'm certain this would also have been the case for Defense marks, if circumstances hadn't required that we cancel those exams. This is an extraordinary result for your and Hermione's efforts. I commend you, and I was wondering whether you had seen any other positive effects of your tutelage.

Do you need anything to aid in your efforts?

With love and pride,

Minerva

/*/

Mum,

That's absolutely fantastic! I think the other firsties must have noticed, because our turn-out for yesterday's class was 58! I'd appreciate it if we could get a second space, but we've instituted a new rule to handle the crowding temporarily- we split the group in two, and each of us taught half. The new students were compelled to attend Hermione's theory work before we'd let them attend a practical with me, and the veterans were told we would catch them up on Sunday with Hermione, which they have to attend before they can participate in next Wednesday's practical class. We always had more students in the practical lessons during first term, because that was when they had more fun. If we could have a second classroom next to the original (or some other place better suited to theory instruction), we could run both types of classes at the same time without anyone having to sit in the corridor.

So as not to confuse the little dears about how much time this takes for us (we are still studying for OWLs, after all), Padma will partner with Hermione on running the second theory instruction, and I'll appear as Harry to run the practical on opposite days. It'll be some more work, but I think the results are worth the investment.

As to other effects, I doubt you'll have seen a group more interested in sharing knowledge across House lines than any in recent history. We always pair people across Houses, to illustrate the usefulness in balanced perspectives. They also get a little more competitive this way, but it's not like we can hand out points for anything. Hermione's been talking about putting our own internal reward system in place, but she has a lot of ideas to explore right now. I wouldn't guess where in her list of priorities this would count.

Hermione and Padma have been thick as thieves in the last week, and already they've presented me with an innovation. I say 'presented' but it was more 'subjected me to'; it's a small quartz rod with agate disks at both ends, which can record and play back voices and sounds. What makes it extra nifty is that works with Parseltongue- the girls don't need me to let them into the Chamber anymore- they just replay my recorded command words.

Hermione wanted to call it a Re-Vocaliser, but I was inspired by the barbell shape of the thing. By the time the girls, the Weasley twins and I had come to an agreement, it was named the Warbler. The other contenders were the Warbling Bar-Bellower or the Muggleborn Wonder's Warbling Barbell Babbler, so you can see where we're counting this as a victory.

Speaking of victories, I heard back from Tonks- Amelia is third-degreeing her about how she executes her protective detail. She's been told to coordinate with Harry only for his scheduled public appearances, and is assigned to work for Amelia as her clerk the rest of the time. It looks like a punishment, but Natalia says that Amelia is grooming her as some sort of personal agent- an Internal Affairs-type Auror who can use her ability to simulate others to gain access to buried documentation. I miss her, but this is a great opportunity for her and for us.

Love,

Holly

P.S.: Your Warbler is currently supplanting the black queen's rook on the marble chessboard in your office. If you'd told me your birthday was in October, I would have gotten you something special for it (aside from the Marauder Map 2.0). Instead, I hear this from Sirius. He says he remembers fondly every detention he earned for his yearly efforts on your behalf, particularly your 50th. We've already started planning for your 70th this autumn!

/*/

7th January, 1995



I'm not sure why Holly hasn't mentioned this, but yesterday afternoon she had an interesting meeting with a professor after class.



The Tale of the Lively Instructor



The mixed languages class with Professor Burton comes to an end for the afternoon, but the bright-eyed and dark-bearded instructor in the dusty brown woolen suit lights his pipe and bellows out an unusual request as the students collect their possessions to head for dinner.



"Miss Evans, stay for bit!"



Holly shrugs at Hermione and returns to sitting while the rest of the class exits. Soon, the door closes and the strongly-built man strides over to lean on the front of his desk and scowl down at Holly. He takes a few more puffs of the sweet tobacco before starting their private conversation.



"First of all... ten points from Slytherin for that horrid translation!"



"What translation?"



"Se eu dança melhor do que eu falo Porteguese, por favor me chamam 'Azevinho'."



Holly rises from the chair and stands to give the instructor a suspicious glare. "How in the world did you hear that, and what's wrong with it?"



"It's 'Se eu dançar melhor do que falo Portugues, por favor me chame de 'Azevinho''. Your ginger bakers sold me a box of their Extendable Ears."



"They're only ten yards long."



"Ah! But you can string them together! Creative lads, those two."



"Nifty. Didn't think of that. You just happened to be listening in on the Entrance Hall?"



"Happened to? That's where all the scandal happens!"



Holly relaxes her stance. "Of course- why else learn a hundred languages; you're a gossip-hound."



"Bite your tongue! No wait- that would be a crime against your gifts. Ah- bite mine!"



"I think you'll need to buy me dinner, first. Is that why you asked me to stay- to correct my Portuguese?"



"You know better than that! But first, tell me what went on with you and the French competitor. That's one intrigue I haven't been able to verify."



"What officially happened, or what happened?"



"Let's start with the officially."



"We argued about which one of us deserves more attention when we both occupy a crowded room. We've agreed to just avoid each other in future, Tournament aside."



"Now the truth! Was there a sapphic liaison, or did you settle your differences with wands?"



"Why does it matter?"



"It matters, because the mystery is driving the school to distraction! The longer your unrevealed duel remains unrevealed, the more outlandish the claims will become. Where's your head, girl?"



"Starts nine inches above my nipples- I should know, as I keep having to guide the gaze of boys along the route. Let them wonder. You included. I don't see a reason to compromise my word to the other combatant just to satisfy your curiosity. You'd have to make it worth something to me."



"Hah! Keep your secrets, then. On the point of official happenings, you are here because I have been sent a letter of introduction to you by an old friend. Bartemius Crouch- now there's a lad with a gift for the tongue! Why would Barty think you needed an introduction?"



"He thinks you should be introduced to your new student."



"I have been teaching you for over a year now."



"Yes... but not in swordsmanship. Nor have you properly introduced yourself to me. I am Holly Jade Evans of the House of Black. I am pleased to make your acquaintance... Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton." Holly makes a deep curtsey.



Sir Richard stands up straight and then bows formally. "Fairly met, adventuress! Don't spread it around."



Holly returns to standing comfortably. "Of course not. I don't mean to be very rude, but aren't you dead?"



"Very! I have been for over a century, now."



"Yet solid, and able to smoke like a dirty furnace?"



"I don't venture from my classroom or chambers so that my body won't rot any further. It was a bargain I made with the Head of Hogwarts at the time- my ghost gets to enjoy driving my own reanimated body, allowing it to teach, play cards, write, eat and drink, defecate and... well, it would make the other spirits jealous, so let's not bandy that one about, either!"



"Why would the Headmaster of the time arrange for that?"



"Because she was the Headmistress, and enjoyed visiting with me. Until I was dead, I was married. It was only after my death that we could enjoy our conversations to their fullest without compromising the vows I made in honour."



"The things we choose to care about- it's almost like a fetish."



"Quite! I have wondered if you and I might start having some interesting conversations outside of the topics of classwork. Still, we must do what we must before doing what or whom we desire. You've come to me to learn to fence!"



"No, sir. I came to you to learn how to kill people with something other than a wand."



Professor Burton smiles evilly. "Now I understand why Barty sent you to me. I'll teach you, if you tell me about your duel!"



Holly bows her head slightly. Her voice grows soft. "We fought unarmed, muggle-style. I beat the tar out of her, broke several of her bones, then healed her. She awoke naked and cowed, but unmolested. She was very confused. Later, I found out that her Veela Allure was sapping my will, making me doubt myself. If she starts throwing it around again, I'll likely kill her outright."



Professor Burton nods, giving Holly a firm, reassuring grasp on the shoulder. "Love is a bitch. Let's talk about weapons!"



Or so their tale begins



Love,

~Newt~



*



Mum, Newt,

I hadn't mentioned it because Professor Burton told me not to spread it around! Besides, I kinda enjoy his innuendo-laden banter with me, but it could earn him some trouble from my godmum if she thought he was being serious or I was taking it seriously.

I'm not.

He might be.

But it's not going to happen- my line stops at necrophilia.

Love,

Holly

*

19th January, 1995

Mum,

First a quick note; once the firsties heard Harry Potter would be teaching, the next class size grew to 71. The new ones all had to take theory, so we'll see if they stick around to learn from a (modern) celebrity. What I find interesting is how many of the first-term attendees are still signing up for my practicals.

On a completely separate topic, I promise, I've kept my hands to myself.

(I'll add; it has taken an extraordinary exercise of restraint to do so.)

The Tale of Team Training

It is half five in the morning on January 7th, and Holly is lurching sleepily down a corridor. She blinks for a moment upon reaching an intersection, as she wasn't watching where she was walking and now can't remember which corridor she came from. She sighs, her shoulders sagging in fatigue. Before she can extract the Map from her robes, she hears a call from down one passage.

"Holly? It's this way."

Holly turns and sees Cedric Diggory poking his head from around a corner. She smiles and walks more briskly to catch up with the bright-eyed Hufflepuff. He leads her to a large door, whispers a passphrase and opens the portal, inviting her in.

"This is the Prefect's bath. As it's Saturday, I had to reserve the room ahead of time. Thanks for coming here... y'know... almost promptly. You don't look like the morning suits you too well."

"Cedric, I'm not a morning or an evening person. I would be more alert, but I slept poorly."

"Don't like the beds here?"

"The beds are great. Mine was more empty than I prefer, as my best friend had to go back to work."

"I thought Hermione was your best friend."

"Yeah, but she's dating Harry, so I doubt I could have her for bed-company without some scandalous complications, even if I were still in Gryffindor."

Cedric smiles and leads Holly through the short hallway with doors to the men's and women's changing rooms, presenting her with the most magnificent tiled pool. Numerous faucets line the center of the bathing area. The whole space is kept comfortably-lit by a candle-filled chandelier floating above the faucet-array, with indirect light filtering through animated stained-glass windows, depicting various water-themed creatures. The pool is only a yard deep at the shallow end by the entrance, but inclines by steps to a thirty-foot depth on the opposite side.

"I was wondering- why did you ask to meet here, if you've never been before?"

"I believe the eggs are a water-related clue, so I figured we should meet where we could get underwater without freezing to death. I'd heard that the Prefecture had such a resource."

"Alright. So... we need to take these things into the water?"

"It's worth a try."

"Why do you think it's water-based?"

"Just a guess. No harm in trying."

"Maybe not for you. I'm stuck in here with a girl of questionable intent!"

Holly laughs at Ced's teasing. "Now, Cedric. I've already vowed that I would do nothing to meddle in your relationship with Cho. I don't do that. If you end up a free agent again, then we should talk."

"How is it you didn't end up in Hufflepuff?"

"Destiny. Let's hope you don't have one. It's like an illness that can never be cured, only endured when it flares up."

Cedric smiles, shaking his head. "I'll just be a moment. You can use the other changing room to switch to swimwear, right?"

Holly nods and turns to wait near a side bench. After a moment's thought, she doffs her robes and sets her egg to sit on the pile on the floor. She moves to the bench to remove her boots and socks, before further stripping down to just a black A-style shirt and matching boxer shorts. Her glasses are switched for the goggles in their fully protective form.

A few minutes later, Cedric emerges wearing a skin-tight sleeveless undershirt and baggy swim shorts that reach to his knees. He goggles at Holly, standing at the edge of the pool, then strides up and nods towards her simple cotton garments.

"Won't that be a bit revealing?"

"Probably. I trust you." Holly shrugs and steps down into the pool, the water quickly soaking her clothes, causing them to cling to her skin or float up in a very enticing way. Cedric gulps, and then turns to retrieve his egg from where he'd left it on another bench. He then walks down into the water, following Holly.

She turns to smirk at the boy. "I think both eggs probably give the same clue, so let's just start with yours."

Cedric nods, then opens the egg by twisting the latch at the top. Incomprehensible screeching bellows out, echoing throughout the room even worse than would be expected. Holly hastily gestures for Cedric to plunge the orb into the water, and their ears are saved from further torture as the egg switches to emitting an ethereal song. The two champions share a look, unable to hear the details of the song. Or much of anything, really.

Holly inadvertently yells, "Let's try it with us submerged, too!"

They stride along the curve of the pool, descending beneath the surface after only a few yards of progress.

They listen to the enchanting song for as long as their breath holds out, and then rise to the surface, closing the egg as the screeching resumes upon it reaching the air.

"Damn, that's loud. What did you think?"

"About what?"

"About the song, Cedric."

"Oh! Yeah. I didn't get a good listen... with... my ears. Let's try that again."

Holly gives him a distrustful look and then replies with a sing-song "Alright..."

The pair descend again, and Cedric opens the egg to hear its song:

Come seek us where our voices sound

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss

An hour long you'll have to look,

And recover what we took,

But past an hour, the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back

They return to the surface, and Holly retrieves her egg and brings it over to where Cedric is keeping afloat after having left his egg at the pool's edge. With a nod, they both descend again, to hear a slightly different song:

Come seek us where our voices sound

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss

While time will not affect their fate,

You really shouldn't procrastinate.

For if you dally, or direction lack,

the squid may need to eat a snack!

The two champions rise back to the surface, where Holly places her sealed egg next to Cedric's.

Holly pushes up her goggles and gives Cedric a look.

"Well, that clears things up a bit. The squid operates in the Black Lake, and the songs are sung by mer-creatures, I'm sure of it. Also, our goal will be a living thing we value, that we'll need to recover."

Cedric just stares at Holly, looking quite pale.

"Ced? Any thoughts?"

"I-i-in winter? We have to swim in the Black Lake in the depths of winter?"

"Sounds like. You want to talk this over, or are you--"

Cedric moves forward and grasps Holly, his arms sliding along her ribs to meet behind her back, and he draws her body against his. Holly keeps her arms out to the side, looking quite worried for her teammate.

"Cedric?"

"Frozen. It's like you said, we'll be frozen to death! It won't even take an hour. Two minutes, tops."

"Well, if we get to run the task together like this, I'm pretty sure I can keep you warm for a bit longer."

Cedric snaps out of his hysterical reverie and pushes Holly back from him, blushing furiously.

"I... I... I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! It's just--"

"Cedric, why would you think I was uncomfortable? It felt really nice, if surprising. Put me in a real challenge to my vow, too."

"Uhh... yeah. Sorry about that. You didn't mind?"

"Right. Let's clear this up. I'm bisexual. You're a biscuit of the first order. If you hadn't made me vow, I'd have had you stripped and moaning already."

"You're... attracted to me?"

"Who isn't? Uh... I mean... I realise that women don't have the same sort of obvious indicator to express sexual interest (quite obvious as it is for you at the moment), but I would have thought, given my reputation, that my not smashing your head into something was a good signal that I liked this."

Cedric glances down into the water to where his trunks are straining to accommodate his 'interest'. He looks back up into Holly's amused expression and just bursts out laughing. After his laughter calms, he shakes his head and grimaces in apology.

"Holly, I am... a very poor host. Thank you for being patient with me. I... I'm not good with freezing to death, and I can't think of a way around it. Can you... would you be willing--?"

"Yah. I think we can collaborate on this. It's part of how this Task is set up- we get further by working together. Besides- I've always considered you a friend, so I hope you can trust me enough to act like one, too."

"Then, we're good! And I'm not just saying that because you saved my soul last year. You've always treated me well. Don't think I didn't notice that, at least." Cedric nods agreeably and heads towards the shallow end to exit the pool.

Holly pipes up from behind. "So, let's do it."

Cedric stops in place and gurgles. "Uhhh..."

"I meant 'cooperate', stud. The vow stands, and you still have a girlfriend."

"Heh! Okay! You're trouble, aren't you?"

"You only just figured this out?"

Cedric turns to answer, only to find his breath caught in his throat- Holly is standing up out of the pool in her soaked garments, twisting a corner of her shirt to expel some water. The stretching of the fabric has released one of her nipples from coverage, and threatens to reveal the other if Holly were to make any sudden gestures.

"Buhhh.... yup."

Or so the tale is told

Thanks, Newt. I'm sure Minerva believes that I'm behaving myself, now!

Anytime, Mum. I think you should just ask Cedric to drop the vow. You both seem so tense, lately. It might be better for all involved.

Particularly you, little perv.

Oh no! You caught me!

Anyway, I've been meeting with Cedric every few mornings to work out our strategy for the Second Task. I've also promised to teach him how to cast without speaking; something that I understand has been a problem for him this year. I don't understand why so many of the sixth-years are surprised when silent casting becomes an expectation- you'd think they would have noticed (as I had back in first year) that adults don't go around proclaiming 'Wingardium Leviosa!' I think Ced's difficulty stems from his having a very up-front nature. He doesn't want to deceive his opponents about what he's doing. That sort of behavior will get him killed, particularly underwater, so we're practising.

Joker delivered us some full body swimsuits that are really nice, too. Mine's green and black, and insulated from the cold, with separate gloves and flippers. His is sort of a camouflage brown and tan, but made of the same materials. He thought I was trying to match his house colours, but it should actually help him to blend in with the foliage. Mostly he's thankful that I wear mine when we're practising underwater spells.

Yes, I've heard him make several prayers to that effect.

Leave it alone, Newt.

Love,

Holly

***

28th January, 1995



Mum,



Albus and Moody finally arranged a private meeting for Harry to be evaluated by the Senior Auror. I can't be sure if Albus is going to hold me to my wager, but it wasn't a binding vow or anything.



Sometimes I just feel stupid...



The Tale of the Fair Evaluation



Harry enters the Defense lab at the behest of the occupant. Alastor Moody turns around and walks over to the young man, but ignores his outstretched hand in favour of walking a full circle around him.



"Ehmm, good morning, Professor Moody. We haven't met, but I've heard--"



"Stop your yammering. I am here to evaluate your combat skills, not your manners. Take a ready position with your wand, and when I say out a spell, you cast it at the stone statue by my desk. Understood?!"



Harry draws his wand and sets himself to cast. Professor Moody grunts.



"I see you at least have a proper holster. Good. Stunner!"



Harry flicks the red curse and hits the statue solidly.



"Speak them if you have to, but I'm glad you've learned not to dribble your spells onto your shirt. Bludgeoning!"



A dark gray arc strikes the stone golem, breaking it into two pieces.



"Not bad. You've enough power. Repairing Charm!"



"Lithos /Reparo/."



"Specific. Good. Binding!"



Ropes fly out of Harry's wand, wrapping tightly around the head of the ugly stone man.



The Auror stalks up next to Harry and grimaces at him. He grumbles, "How in fuck-all creation did you become a girl?"



Harry turns and glares at the wizened man. "I'm sorry, Senior Auror. Would you care to clarify that question?"



"How. Did. You. Become. A. Girl. You don't walk like you have a pair, so it's obvious you're out of practice. Even if I hadn't noticed that, there's a mild few men who would wear a toe-ring, much less three of them. And before you complain that most folk can't see them through your shoes, the same goes for finger-rings. Couple that with you having the same poor wand grip as a certain clumsy trainee of mine and I can conclude that you are Holly Evans most hours of the day."



Harry changes to Holly, tapping a toe to change back to her school uniform. "Well, I can tell you it wasn't on purpose. You can tell I don't have much faith in the subterfuge, given how little the world has actually seen of Harry."



"Don't beat yourself up too much, Evans. I'm more observant than most."



"Is that all? Me being Harry isn't the only reasonable explanation for my stance and jewelry."



"Aye, that's true. I had a theory running, based upon the idea that Albus should have had me training Harry Potter. That's only if Harry were being kept in magical places in preparation for the return of that Dark Lord that's haunting us. Since he didn't invite my tutelage, you weren't raised amongst the magical, making Harry's cover story an obvious lie. It also explains your very muggle-like preferences in clothing and speech habits. Nevertheless, you have a poor idea of infiltration! We'll need to re-teach you to fight as a wizard and walk like a man! Ohhh, you'll be a challenge, alright."



"Yes sir. I'm looking forward to it."



"Don't patronize me, girl! I've heard you had a reputation for candor. Don't waste our time being polite to me; I work for a living."



"Sure, chief."



"Moody. Call me Moody, Professor, or Senior Auror. Which will it be?"



"Moody."



"Why?"



"Fewer syllables."



"Ahh! Not brain-dead! Yet, I have a bone to pick with you."



"We've only just met--"



"Pay attention, Evans! A number of people have approached me in the month since my return, both students and teachers, asking to learn an illegal spell. How did you find out about the Soul Burning curse?"



"Soul-burning... you mean the Purga--"



Moody grunts loudly at Holly in irritation, "NNNhhh!"



"Right- first lesson of the new year; 'Don't refer to a spell by its incantation'. Sorry. It was in a book I received as a present, about Caribbean spirit magic."



"Bah! Fucking Americans can't keep a secret to save their mothers. I should have guessed. You were wrong, by the way."



"Wrong? About what?"



"There aren't five. There are seven spells in the realm of soul attacks. Three are Unforgivable, another illegal but harmless, two are widely mislabeled due to their benign nature, and one is illegal to even speak about. Name them!"



"Hmm. Cruciatus, Imperius, and Killing Curses..."



"Right, though they used to call it the Murderous Curse... still should, if I was heeded."



"Purga- I should say 'Soul-burner', though I'd say it's only harmless to living targets if they don't have serious sins to face."



"Seen it in use, have you? Continue."



"The Napping and Patronus charms on the positive, mislabeled side..."



"Still correct."



"And... well they've done their job. I have no idea."



"Nor should you. The last is the Darkest of them all. Do you want to know what it is?"



"Do you think I should? I have a bit of a reputation for trying things others wouldn't consider."



"Good answer! There may be hope for you yet."



"Well that's--"



Moody's hand snaps out from his cloak and three spells arc towards Holly in quick succession...



~Transcription skips ten minutes, by Holly's request~



Moody wakes up to find himself bound to a chair facing a wall, with his eye removed.



"What...?"



Holly leans down from behind him to whisper into the man's right ear. "Ah, you're awake. Just so we can set the record straight, your last lover's name was Frederico, and I'm telling you this because you conceded defeat."



"Damn! Why'd you Obliviate me?"



"Because you were caught by surprise. Now I don't have to come up with another way to outmaneuver you, as you can't remember how I did it this time. I'm really not in your league, yet, but hopefully this illustrates that you needn't waste our time on the basics. I know everything Tonks has been taught, plus some other tricks. 'Constant Vigilance' doesn't cover my level of paranoia."



"Heh. Albus doesn't know what to do with you, does he?"



"He's catching on."



"We should get along famously. Give me back my damned eye."



"Sure. Tell me what the seventh soul spell is called."



"No. I may like you, but I don't trust you any more'n I wanna fuck you."



"You're a rare breed in many ways, Professor. /Finite Incantata/."



The spine-numbing hex is lifted along with the ropes binding Moody to the chair. Holly hands him his wands, then turns towards the door. She's nearly there before the Senior Auror growls out, "Evans..."



"Oh, I forgot. Have an eyeful."



Holly undoes a button beneath her necktie and reaches into her dress shirt, retrieving the quartz sphere from where it is held between her breasts in her demi-cup bra. She tosses it in an arc towards the Professor where it then zips into his open hand at the direction of his primary wand.



"I'd heard you weren't fond of wearing underthings."



"Geez- does everyone read Witch Weekly? It was a Christmas gift, and makes a handy place to store stuff. I'll probably stop when spring arrives, but there's merit to wearing added layers when the winter is this cold."



"Heh."



"If you want, I'll order you some..."



"Shaddup. Next session is tomorrow night."



Or so the story is told



See- I am wearing them. For now.



I skipped the description of how I bested Moody because I like keeping my surprises to myself. Don't take it personally, Mum. The Headmaster has expressed a keen interest into how we bested him when he came to visit, so I wouldn't doubt that he's working to figure it out through every avenue he has.



Love,

Holly



*



2nd February, 1995



Holly,



I imagine that you'll need to refer to this, wondering why you are locked into your dorm room. I wish I could tell you how it all came about, but there isn't much to tell. You seemed fine, and then you brutally assaulted another student in response to a minor insult. If you have any insight into your mental state this morning, please let me know. I am very concerned for you.



With love,

Minerva



*



Mum,



Sorry about earlier. I hope no one was hurt too badly but I'm having a hard time remembering what happened. I just know I lost control. Everything after that is... fuzzy. The before I can explain.



It should have been just another day, but I woke up late. That is to say, I woke up later than I wanted to. I wanted to wake up before my nightmarish visions took hold of my attention. I tried to wake up after the third time I relived Riddle's last raping spree, and I begged to wake up before finishing another re-enactment of Flint and his boys stripping me with magic lashes while all I could do was lie there and take it. I wanted to wake up, but I couldn't. HE wouldn't let me. Or rather, his poison-pumping stinger in my forehead wouldn't let me.



In America, they call February 2nd the Groundhog's Day. Supposedly by the Wisdom of Solomon (or possibly Benjamin Franklin), a small mammal comes forth to determine whether the weather will continue to be cold or if spring will come early.



My groundhog was having its entrails consumed by a pack of rabid dogs while it yet lived, so really couldn't be bothered to make a prediction. And like Prometheus, they kept coming back for another course when the parts regrew.



Let's hear it for the anniversary of Flint's execution, and why it was required. I'm tired, but I dare not sleep.



Holly



*



Holly,



What happened was that Alicia Spinnet pushed your face into a dish of porridge, for which you used some sort of limb twisting hex to cripple her left arm, nearly tearing it from the socket. I brought her to St. Mungo's to have the bones removed and regrown, using a technique that will allow her to bypass living through the pain by putting her into a coma. It is yet possible that she may recover the full use of her arm despite the nerve damage.



I wish I had better words to offer you, but I think these will suffice for now:



Natalia will be there in an hour. Go home. Come back when you're ready.



With my deepest love and concern,

Minerva



*



Mum,



So, I've been remanded to Auror custody?



Holly



*



Holly,



No. Albus successfully Obliviated the entire audience of the event. He has been convalescing in his office all afternoon. I just think you could use another holiday. You've been working yourself to death this past month.



I suspect that you need Natalia now more than you know. Miss Granger has already cancelled the RE-class practical lesson for the week. Viktor Krum has emerged from the arms of Miss Weasley long enough to volunteer to teach in Harry's place.



Please take this time for yourself. We will watch over your concerns in the meanwhile. By the time you return, this will be known as a family vacation arranged for you and your brother.



With love,

Minerva



*



4th February, 1995



Holly,



I apologise for interrupting your respite, but a rather time-critical event is about to occur.



As you have mentioned, I have taught a good portion of the best magical people to be found in Britain, and on occasion they contact me if they feel some gratitude for that guidance and think I might have an interest in what they hear or see. One such loyal friend has access to early copy from tomorrow's Daily Prophet. He called me to meet with him, so that I might 'read over his shoulder', since the page must not leave his hands before it is printed, at risk of his career and possibly his magic.



This is the article of concern:



Black Holly: charting the salacious descent of the first Dark Lady in centuries,/ by Rita Skeeter/



Loyal readers, I have been away from the pages of the Prophet for a while, but my quill has not been idle. I have been rooting through dark places, gathering crucial truths, spurred on by my quest to warn the public of the greatest threat to decent wizarding folk since the fall of You-Know-Who. It should come as no surprise that I am referring to Holly Evans Black, daughter of escaped convict Sirius Black and the murdered muggle-born prodigy Lily Evans Potter



Lily Potter is best known by association to her legitimate son, Harry Potter, who so bravely defends our Ministry from all its enemies, all... except the girl who constitutes the last relative of the Boy-Who-Lived. Perhaps that is the simplest explanation for Mr. Potter's comfort in the company of evil. Holly Evans is family for him. Would that we could convince him in just this one case, family bonds are not enough to deserve his loyalty.



In most recent days, I have borne witness to some of the depravities executed at the hands of Black Holly. As recently as Christmastide, in the hours before a very public celebration of the season and the joining together of schools in competition, Black Holly was orchestrating the torture of a high-ranked Ministry official with her own personal whips and chains- I do not exaggerate, dear readers!- with the permission, nay even support of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. It is only a testament to the bravery of that official that she escaped with her life... and her hide... intact.



Her taste for blood not being properly slaked, Black Holly dominated the Yule Ball with her dark presence, frightening her competitors and other students alike. Through some twisted, lesbianistic ritual she commanded the musicians to spew out a hellish cacophony, which served to inspire many of the spell-bound students into following in her depraved exhortations.



Not being satisfied with stripping nude in this near-orgy, she then dragged rival competitor Fleur Delacour into a private room, where... well, the physical acts performed should not be recounted for the sake of upright sensibilities. During their private sado-masochistic cavorting, it was revealed that Holly had already tasted of her competitor's treats; that said French champion was actually a Veela in disguise, and that the consummation of their lust was yet insufficient for Black Holly's appetites. The poor creature was stripped naked and brutalised, yet repaired almost as an afterthought, before being sent back into the public eye.



What I find the most terrifying truth, the most disturbing discovery, was from testing a sample of blood recovered from the scene of their brutal fornication- Black Holly may not be human, either.



This is just the tip of a very sticky weed that I have been digging up. The pages of the Prophet are not the proper venue for truths so wicked. With the cooperation of our esteemed publisher, a full accounting of Black Holly's crimes will be available for public review. I warn you: do not buy it. No one should have to suffer the nightmares that will surely come to those who read of the depraved acts that are described therein.



Excerpts include:



Chapter 2: Holly Black's origins already are a matter of controversy, whether the spawn of rape or blackmail....



Chapter 5: That terrible Halloween, we were all given a hint of the horror that would surround her when officials found her bathing in the corpse of a troll...



Chapter 31: Even before the execution of her planned seduction of five (!) upstanding wizards of noble blood, she once again demonstrated her discomfort with the constraints of human clothing...



Here, also, is a follow-on report that will be featured:



'Anonymous Ministry source denounces Dumbledore along with Black Holly as corruptive influences on Boy-Who-Lived': "Mark my words; that sweet and decent boy should be separated from his half-sister's proximity as soon as possible! If the headmaster disagrees, well, let's just say we are not entirely convinced of his noble intentions, either!"



Further investigation bears out that the last public appearance of the Boy-Who-Lived outside of Hogwarts was with Albus Dumbledore in the company of a troop of disgruntled goblins. We can now reveal that the Potter fortune lays devastated under the Headmaster's guidance, and that Mr. Potter lives under the threat of a rising debt to the Goblin Nation- perhaps for his very life.



A Gringott's representative had this to say: "We do not discuss the catastrophic fortunes of our poorly-represented famous orphan customers any more than we would discuss yours. Go away."



Mr. Potter remains oblivious to his dire situation; he was seen at the recent Yule Ball dancing in a courtly fashion with several lucky ladies of good background and unimpeachable merit. We at the Prophet wish him well, and hope that the fortunate witch that eventually catches his eye will have the support of established families that may be able to help untangle him from his financial woes.



There is more, but these reflect the tone and nature of this edition.



Reply as soon as you can.



Minerva



*



Mum,



I want at least three copies. We should pre-order several copies of the book as well, before they start jacking up the price. Maybe I should write to Rita, asking for a copy if I'll sign one for her.



Don't mistake me- I'm quite freaked and Natalia has had a time calming me down, but this we should have anticipated. Draco has been receding from our previously polite interactions over the last two weeks, and it's not like I haven't earned the reputation, to be honest. Now that I'm calm, I'm almost proud. If I can keep that attitude, it will frustrate my enemies. Rita's one, but I think this is a coordinated attack; her book comes out the 21st of February- three days before the Second Task. She wouldn't care, but others would.



Holly



*



It's later on the 4th



Mum,



I'm back in my dorm room, and I've got an update; I didn't just lose it. Draco slipped a poison past my protections by using an aromatic flower not unlike the Bacchus Poppy, though this one is known to enhance nightmares. It's been puffing out spores for a week, so I didn't even notice the change in intensity. I can't act on this as the source would be compromised, but I see it in the play of things. I've been set up, quite ably. That's how I know it wasn't Draco's plan.



At some point, Draco and Narcissa must have introduced their scheme for my rehabilitation to Lucius. He made a choice to veto that plan and instead use Draco's access to me through our detente to set me into a compromising situation. They didn't expect me to restrain myself from killing whoever crossed my path, nor for the Headmaster to so ably control the flow of information about it. This was coupled with their media assault with the aid of Rita Skeeter. Much of the dirty details of my adventures are accessible if you speak to the wrong 'right people', but I don't understand how they found out about my fight with Fleur. I've spoken with Myrtle- she has confessed nothing about it to anyone else living or dead and is certain no other ghosts were nearby. Even if they had used a recording charm, someone got a sample of my blood from the sink before I cleaned it up.



Draco won't be able to hold himself back from gloating, but I'll let him revel until he starts to worry from my non-reaction. That may prompt a stupid provocation that I can leverage. Lucius' plans show an artistry that his son can barely appreciate, much less emulate. I just can't see the next wave clearly. It may play out that they were trying to have me brought up on charges for the assault, and would use the suspicion of my creature status to have my blood officially tested, at which point my rights drop to nil. (MacNair will be so pleased to see me under his axe with every legal right to apply it). They missed the window for a quick win, but they'll be sure to look for other ways to provoke some legal action.



I need to separate from everyone. For sure this is the tipping point of my spiraling descent. All the friends with relatively clean reputations should turn away, or get trapped in the wake to be sucked down with me. That includes you, Mum. You should arrange to skip meals at first, so that you're not tempted to step in on my account. This will get ugly, but I'm ready for it.



I'll be walking this next part of the path alone.



Love,

Holly



*



5th February



Not entirely alone, Mum.



The Tale of One Ally



The next morning, Holly enters a packed Great Hall, her appearance inducing a sudden hush.



She adjusts the shouldering of her rucksack and then moves towards the Slytherin table. Draco's crowd offers an angry rise; no less than ten already with their wands out, threatening a confrontation should Holly approach any closer.



Holly vectors to sit at the end of Hufflepuff with Cedric, but he gives her a pleading look that is explained by his follow-up look at Cho.



Trying the other end, Susan Bones stands up and gets in Holly's face, saying "It would be better for you to move along, Miss Murderess."



Moving to Ravenclaw, Holly sees Cho's friends finishing a coordinated bombardment at Luna that bespoils her food and pelts her with numerous unsavory substances. They turn towards Holly with a 'you're next' expression, just as Luna retreats from the assault.



Luna moves to leave the Hall, only to stop and look at Holly with a pout.



"You could have at least given me an exclusive."



Luna then exits, hastily.



Gryffindor is similarly angled on the defensive, with both Weasley twins looking at Holly with a challenge in their eyes. Neville stands up and glares at his housemates, then moves to join Holly, but she gestures for him to stay. Regretfully, he sits back down, but a quiet scuffle is heard soon after as Seamus gets a faceful of food in response to an unkind comment. It doesn't escalate- the room is still concentrating on Holly.



Holly turns around to face the doorway out of the Great Hall, but doesn't move to leave. She pulls out her wand (actually Harry's wand, but no one is close enough to see that). Responding to a series of dancing gestures, the pillar closest to the entrance seems to melt down into a wide round table. Holly places her rucksack on the stone surface. With a second wave and swirl, a cushioned workstool appears. Holly whispers something and a small elf appears. It pops away, and a minute later Holly's table fills with a variety of dishes.



Ron walks in, and without much ado, says quite loudly, "Oh hey, Holly! Whatcha eatin' here for?"



"The view."



"Mind if I join you?"



"The rest of the world might take it poorly."



Ron looks up and sees that the entire room is watching their conversation. Ron quirks an eyebrow, reaches down to the table and snaps up a sausage. After standing there for a minute, consuming the tasty morsel, Ron turns back to Holly.



"What's wrong with them, then? Never seen a bloke eat a banger?"



"Draco doesn't normally invite an audience to his entertainments."



Ron laughs and sits down next to Holly on a stool she just conjured.



Draco jumps up from the Slytherin table. "You BITCH! I'll--"



Professor Snape interrupts. "MR. MALFOY. Finish that sentence and your punishment will exceed your worst nightmares. Miss Evans, for publicly insulting Mr. Malfoy you'll serve detention with Mr. Filch every evening this week."



"Yes, Professor."



Ron cackles in the silence. "Oi! Howzat Sheklespeare quote go?"



Holly replies, "Methinks the lad doth protest too much."



"That's about right! So, is this table just for us, then?"



"Yea, verily."



The Great Hall begins to fill with the buzz of a hundred whispers.



"Wicked! And you don't even like sausage." Ron settles in, dragging the plate of sausages, bacon and ham steaks nearer to his placesetting.



Holly sits back with a bemused expression. "Actually, I'm rediscovering a taste for it."



Ron turns a worried expression towards Holly.



"Oh, don't fret, Ron. You can keep that sausage to yourself, as far as I'm concerned."



Ron grins and forks another link with enthusiasm.



They eat peaceably for a minute before Ron drops his fork to the table with a clatter.



"Hang on!"



"Bahahahahahah haaaa!"



Ron glares at Holly's cackling, and then shakes his head and smiles. "O.K. That's funny. I admit it."



Or so one might say.



Love

~Newt~



***



6th February, 1995



Mum,



Yeah, the world has been properly convinced that I'm radioactive. Either Ron doesn't see it, or it just doesn't matter to him. I had to protect Neville's reputation- if he stands up for me, people will assume he's been hexed or ensorcelled, and his Gran might pull him from school altogether. The other Marauders know the difference between public and real alliances, but everyone would know it was a scam if Ron couldn't play it convincingly. That he's still supporting me purely on instinct and personal ethics speaks greatly to how he's grown. He's also keeping my spirits up.



Right now, Ron is the best friend I (openly) have.



I honestly have no idea how that happened, but it's kinda enjoyable when the world surprises you like that. Even better, he has no problem talking with me like a person, unlike his behavior with other girls. In his mind I'm not a real girl, as I like girls as much as he does, and I'm not a real Slytherin since I didn't start off as one. It's like when brainy professors of esoteric mathematics go about proving 2+2=4; the simple-minded just look at them weirdly and say, 'Duh. I knew that one a while ago. Why are we paying you?' The reasoning is simplistic, but the result's the same. He's just a mate, and a good one at that.



Special gift for my Mum- you might just see a Gryffindor victory when spring hits, as Quidditch and girls is all we ever talk about so far. Talking about girls tends to annoy me, as it reminds me how long it'll be before I'm next touched by Natalia. It's not like I owe any allegiance to Draco at this point, so Ron has received some very useful pointers and ideas from our chats. Also, his new helmet has been stress-tested to the twins' satisfaction. Assuming Alicia recovers or you can field a decent alternate, Gryffindor should dominate the pitch.



Love,

Holly



*



Holly,



I'm not certain how to ask this question, but... how are you faring, separated from Miss Tonks again? I would not want a repeat of the altercation with Miss Spinnet. It would be very difficult to explain away a second incident, as we are trapped in this uncertain scrutiny at this time.



Minerva



*



Mum,



I'm fine. I've been plucking violets to calm my nerves. It's a poor substitute, but good enough for a night's sleep.



Love,

Holly



*



Fun with Media References:



"Mr. Pink" was Steve Buscemi's character in Reservoir Dogs; Holly named Sirius that as an answer to him giving her a pink motorcycle for Christmas. It has since been recoloured cherry-red, as mentioned. Rumour has it that his alias' first name is Paddington.



Why bowling? It's on the Headmaster's chocolate frog card. Also, funny.



Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton was a lion of a man who lived in the 19th century and actually did learn to speak over forty different languages. I can't begin to describe the greatness of his life, except to say that he was Indiana Jones to the extreme, yet a real person. Also, he was a bit vulgar and obsessed with sexuality- he translated both the Kama Sutra and 1001 Arabian Nights for European readers to enjoy; many of his works were banned as pornographic, so he and his friends formed a private book club to keep sexy stories in circulation.



Especial 'Obrigado' and apology to reviewer BrazilianGal:

Thank you for the correction- as you can see, I chose the Pee-Wee Herman 'I Meant To Do That!' tactic of integrating Holly's mis-pronunciation into the story. Any further translation abuses will no doubt be handled similarly (so they will generally be Holly's mistake, rather than Hermione's, or.. y'know... mine).