Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Holly Evans and the Spiral Path
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Holly Evans and the Spiral Path
Chapter 46: That Sinking Feeling
*
7th February, 1995
Mum,
Originally I thought I could just bear through this- ignore the stares and the catcalls and focus on the work I needed to get done. What I hadn't accounted for was the power of people to make your life hell just by unspoken community agreement. This almost seems like a magical ability, but I seem to remember this feeling from when Dudley would turn the class against me out of fear of his reprisal. Kids that had sat to draw with me one day were treating me like rotting garbage the next, and no matter how much I'd say to myself 'it doesn't matter', it did. We are social beings, and I wouldn't be surprised if there's power behind the intent of the mob- the force of their rejection may actually be making me ill.
Somehow, my current adversaries have found a 'sweet spot'; a level of antagonism that isn't sufficient to deserve a counter-attack, but just annoying enough to push my buttons- like Daphne 'accidentally' flinging dodecapede tar into my hair. It didn't take much exploratory prodding to end up with large clumps of my hair stuck in all sorts of ways. The 'simple' solution was a lemon juice rinse. It gets the tar out, but not the roadkill smell.
Even before my incarceration, lemons were not my favorite flavour, but having consumed a bagful of the lemon Calmers that night you brought me from Azkaban, I've started associating lemon with recovering from nerve-wracking trauma. Add in the dead meat scent, and Sim-Holly comes immediately to mind. I tried to sleep, but a simple adjustment to my pillow would release another oily citrus whiff from my hair, and suddenly I'd be curled up in a ball resting against the headboard, completely awake.
Daphne's prank was therefore enough to provoke a murderous response, but the effectiveness of it was entirely an accident. Even admitting I was greatly affected would be victory for her, so once again, I clamp down on my emotions and do nothing. Too many similar irritants have been added to my day to bother planning reprisals. I have enough to do trying to rein in Ron from reacting when the angry whispers start coming from ten different people in a crowded hallway. As an ally, he's a lot of work.
Most of the RE-class students have taken to attending Harry's practical lectures. I can't blame them as my sense of humour has been lacking. I wouldn't want to learn from a grumpy me, either. What I find amazing is how different it feels to teach as Harry- it's such a relief! The class has no ire or expectation other than to listen to my instructions and do the best that they can. That was how I started them off in September. It seems like a lifetime ago.
I still have a few die-hard supporters, mostly from Slytherin. They know that their lives are easier under my protection. That's who sits at my table now. Once Ron broke the ice they started accumulating, mostly led by Casey, Fiona, John and Lloyd, plus little Orla from Ravenclaw brought a friend. (Was I ever that small?) Also, Luna has joined us now that she's realised that an isolated Holly might mean 'Holly is nearly in my clutches!' I'd swear half of the pranks Ron has dodged or suffered lately are from her, but she has an impenetrable poker-face.
Anyway, faced with overwhelming derision, I've otherwise kept to myself, allowing Harry to take the fore whenever possible and spending my Holly-time in training.
Though I did arrange for some play-time...
The Tale of the Haunted Prince
Draco Malfoy looks tired. The normally perfectly-pressed and starched boy is slumped over a scroll in the library, accompanied by his ever-present protectors, both of whom are practicing their penmanship charms to correct their ink-spattered attempts at homework. Draco sighs audibly and leans back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with fatigue and frustration.
When he looks up again, he notices a dark figure with glasses on his pale face staring at him from the shadows of the upper stacks across the way. The figure pulls back into full concealment, but Draco continues to stare, tilting his face in appreciation of the messy black hair of the Boy-Who-Lived. The blond wizard checks his surrroundings- no one else has noticed his focused attention. He sits back and considers for a moment, then makes a big deal of languidly stretching out and idly rising from the table.
Crabbe and Goyle grunt in harmony, but Draco scowls at them, mumbling, "I need to stretch. Stay." Closing his book, Draco readjusts his robes and ambles around the desks and work tables, eventually reaching the stars to the upper stacks.
Within the shadows of the candle-lit shelves, he catches sight of his quarry at the end of the row. Harry stares meaningfully at him for a long moment, then disappears behind a pillar. When Draco reaches the corner, there is no-one there.
It takes a full five minutes for Draco to discover the latch to open the secret door in the wall. After a quick check to ensure his stealth, he slips into the hidden space. From behind the door, he now can see a long narrow passage with irregularly spaced peepholes, circumscribing at least two walls of the library. Draco grins in appreciation of the find and races to catch up with his famous benefactor. He makes it to a junction point where he once again discovers that he has lost track of his guide.
Another inspection eventually reveals a sliding portal that opens into a rarely-used corridor near the Ravenclaw tower. Draco notes noises in one direction echoing the movements of students in the main staircase, and chooses to head in the opposite direction. Upon turning a corner, Draco is annoyed to find himself at a dead end.
He hears a cough from above him and looks up.
Holly smiles at him from her position standing on the ceiling and says, "Surprise." Draco barely gasps before a stunner robs him of his senses.
He awakes, sitting on a stiff wood chair with his arms chained to a familiar table. An equally-familiar voice whispers from behind him.
"Sorry to ruin your plans to molest my brother, but I need to understand something which only you can confirm."
Draco looks down at the table and grumbles, "I have nothing to say to you, Evans. Release me now, if you know what's good for you."
Holly tosses a book onto the wooden surface, open to a page showing an illustration of a delicate flower placed between a sleeping couple. "The Mnemosyne Moonflower; I found spores from one in my room. As I understand it, they intensify and link the dreams of two people, allowing them a shortcut way to bond together for the sake of arranged marriages and such. The spores from the flower breathed by one betrothed tie back to the paramour smelling its scent. That's what you used, right?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Holly moves around to face Draco, sitting down in a chair across the table from him. Her voice softens. "As my dreams are generally disquieting horrors inspired by the personal history of Tom Riddle, and knowing that you've been looking haunted and acting almost polite towards me this week, I have come to the conclusion that you were the lucky volunteer to take a ride in my psyche. I wondered how you worked around the House vow. I suppose sharing dreams with a marriage prospect can't be considered an attack, even if you use wartcap to taint the experience. Do you feel closer to me now, Draco? Do you hear screams when you close your eyes?"
Draco's eyes goggle in remembrance of several vivid scenes of horror.
"I saw... I saw my... "
"Your father. Yes. He is quite the afficionado of pain and the uses of torture as entertainment. Riddle's favorite, aside from your Aunt Bellatrix and some creep named Dolohov. Seems my nightmares focused on your interests, maybe from knowing that you were in the audience."
Draco shivers. "I don't know how to feel about this."
"Well, take some time and figure it out. I'll give you this small piece of advice- if you think you can stand up in the world without the support of your father, then stand by your convictions. Make your indignation known. If, on the other hand, you have no idea how to live and operate without your father's blessing, you'd best toe his line. Embrace the depravity he will expect of you, or you'll be assassinated months after producing a viable heir."
"Why would you tell me that?"
"Someone should tell you the truth on occasion, or you'll never be able to tell the difference."
"Do you WANT me for your enemy?!"
Holly smiles in a teasing way. "Sure. I can defeat you easily. I'd be happy to have a non-threatening opponent. I could relax."
"But I defeated you!"
"HAH! You exaggerated my nightmares to the point where I wanted to kill people! What makes you think that I would have killed people that you wanted dead? It's like you made the full moon rise while surrounded by werewolves- how smart does that plan seem? You're just lucky you stayed out of my reach."
Draco shakes his head sullenly, whispering, “I hope you drown in this next Task, Evans.”
“Draco--”
“The name is MALFOY!”
“No, really? I thought it was Mao-Fly, like you were some kind of Chinese gnat that spouts poetry about the nobility of following orders."
Draco glares back in a mixture of confusion and distaste.
"Never mind- it's only funny to me, I guess. Speaking of anagrams, answer me this- has your father recently met with Voldemort in some form?”
Draco flinches, then blinks in confusion, finally goggling in a slight panic.
“Thanks. You can go now.” Holly flicks her wand and the chains open from around Draco's wrists.
“Wait- I didn’t say anything!”
“You didn’t have to- if you were panicked first, I’d know you were worried about letting out a secret, then you would be confused about how I knew to ask. Instead, you were confused by the question (it having nothing to do with your recent experience), and then panicked when you realised that it was possible, given what I said in the ‘Secrets’ gathering and those nightmares of mine you’ve recently enjoyed.”
“Damn you! Why are you so--?”
“Think, and learn, then choose. What I mean is; you’ll never be master of your own destiny if all you do is react; you can't make a good decision without enough information; and once you make a decision, commit to it, wholeheartedly. That's what I've been teaching. You seem lost, so I figure a full explanation is required."
"Why would you care? Your whole purpose is to destroy society- MY society. Why would teaching me anything matter?"
"Must be that you're wrong about my intentions. Why did you screw me over, if not for your Dark Lord’s sake?”
“Father pointed out that you are an enemy of the goblins... Gahh! Why did I tell you that?”
“Because I’ve given you good advice and you felt you should balance the books instead of feeling like you owed me for something. And, you don’t know when to keep your mouth shut, as I said before Lammas. That's the 'think' part that I mentioned.”
“You... Bitch!”
“Yah, also not great with the comebacks. I’ve already done you another favour, so let’s call it a night.”
“What favour?”
“You hate me again, so you won’t feel bad about my nightmares anymore. Sleep well, snake prince. You know I won’t.”
Holly turns to exit the room.
Draco growls in frustration. He stands, pulls his wand and aims it at Holly's head, but his hand trembles the more he concentrates. Holly turns back and faces him, standing in the open doorway, waiting. Finally, Draco's hand drops to his side and his head nods forward. Holly can hear a barely-suppressed sob.
Holly whispers with sadness, "The vow expires at the end of the school year, or if one of us is expelled. If you still feel motivated to hurt me, I'll meet you on the field of honour of your choosing. It could make your career and earn you accolades from your father and the goblins. All you'll have to do is defeat me. Of course, they'll want you to kill me. If you don't think you can kill me, maybe you should consider what that means to your view of the world.
"As to my intentions, I want to change the rules. I want people to be allowed to openly court and marry whomever they love. I want it so that no one is ground down because of what they are, but are held accountable for what they do. And I would prefer that a family name mean nothing, so that your predecessors' crimes won't affect how you are treated. In my world you'd still be rich- doesn't the rest seem sort of appealing? What kind of world has your father made for you? What sort of world will the Dark Lord make? I wonder."
She turns her back to him once more and leaves.
~o~
That felt good.
Love,
Holly
*
Sunday, 12th February, 1995
Mum,
This is a bit of an issue I hadn't foreseen, but first some background. Up until Hedwig was killed, Hermione had a regular avenue of communication with her parents. She would occasionally send letters to them by using a Hogwarts owl, but usually she'd use Hedwig, who would wait to return with packages, missives and sugar-free snacks. As things progressed, Hed would sometimes arrive with a package from her parents when neither of us had sent her to the Grangers. She was either that in tune with the people in my life or so bored that she would go looking for any mail to carry.
I miss her. [Me, too.]
Anyway, Hermione came upon a solution for her parents' benefit, which was to get them a subscription to the Daily Prophet. That way, they could re-hire the delivery owls using knuts and sickles (left with them for the purpose) to send packages back here. For some reason, neither of us figured they would read the paper much.
They read the paper, alright.
They're withdrawing Hermione from Hogwarts.
Before you accept any official communications, please let Hermione talk with them. I'm bringing her home via Apparation to the Madhouse, then driving over using my motorbike. I'll let you know how it goes.
Love,
Holly
*
Holly,
Seeing as you've already left the grounds, I'd like to remind you for future reference that I would have brought Hermione to her home directly to deal with a family conflict as her Head of House, and without the roundabout trip to hide from Ministry sensors at their home. (Mind you, if there hadn't been a previous crime enacted there, they probably wouldn't have emplaced the sensor at all). If you haven't spoken with the Grangers yet, please respond and I will join the discussion immediately.
With love,
Minerva
*
Thanks, Mum. We'd already left by the time I read your last reply. I think Hermione wanted the thinking time, to tell you the truth.
The Tale of Faith and Hope
Holly and Hermione arrive at the Grangers house mid-afternoon. Despite conservative driving and several Warming charms, Hermione is trembling when she unwraps herself from clutching onto Holly's back. Holly stands and locks the bike, and then turns to give Hermione a warming hug, rubbing her back briskly.
"Holly, thank you, but I'm not cold or terrified from the ride. I... I still don't know what to say to them."
"Me either. Just remember I'm here, and that you've faced danger and death before."
"Somehow, the surreality of our life has made our adventures more palatable than facing this."
"Hermione, you are a woman and a witch. Don't let them mistake you for something lesser."
"Got it. You'll stay out here?"
"Unless invited in. Like a vampire, I represent blood and darkness, but I prefer to act politely." Holly smirks.
Hermione grimaces at the poor joke. Holly gives her another hug and then steps back to let Hermione face her parents. The witch takes a calming breath and then strides up confidently to enter her home.
Moments later, Holly can hear the indistinct yelling begin. She waits patiently for ten minutes of vocal disharmony, finally growing bored enough to poke around. A minute passes and Holly uncovers the Ministry monitoring stone, hidden in a partially-crushed ceramic lawn gnome.
"Oh, they've got that so wrong. They're not mini-Santas; they're potato-coloured hick pygmy-pygmys."
Holly draws her black walnut wand and casts a few passive diagnostics near the stone. A few additional charms are added to the lawn ornament and Holly steps back to admire her handiwork. She cancels the diagnostic spells and charms the snow to erase impressions of her passage. Wandering back to the motorcycle, Holly is about to unreel an Extendable Ear when Hermione steps out of the front door and calls to her.
"Holly, would you come in to answer a few questions, please?"
"Sure."
~o~
Holly walks into the Granger's living room. Hermione is standing on one side, near the hearth, while Mr. and Mrs. Granger are sitting on the sofa opposite. Mrs. Granger gives Holly a threatening look, but Mr. Granger is unreadable, holding his face in his hands as if overwhelmed.
"Holly, my parents would like to know why... why you're amenable to my dating Harry."
"Eh?"
Hermione starts to explain, but Mr. Granger grumbles out, "You've corrupted my daughter, bespoiled her. Why would this half-brother of yours, the savior of your world, want anything to do with your discards? Everything else I understand, from the perspective of the twisted 'logic' of your Hell-spawned culture. But if this Boy-Who-Lived enjoys Hermione's company so well, why is it that you're here to stand by her in her moment of crisis?"
Holly turns a disbelieving look towards Hermione. "What did you want me to say?"
Hermione tremulously replies, "It would explain everything. Please, just--"
Holly shakes her head at first, but then scrunches her face in concentration. In a flash, Holly disappears, replaced by Harry in a finely-tailored wool suit. The Grangers jump to their feet, startled. They stare agog, first at Harry, then at Hermione, back to Harry, and back to Hermione.
Their daughter starts up, "You see? I am involved in a very important matter. This isn't some schoolgirl fancy or a melodramatic tear. There are real and important consequences--"
Mr. Granger turns to his wife and growls, "Get that abomination out of my house." He then turns to exit down the hallway, casting one last, disgusted look over his shoulder.
Harry shrugs and reverts to Holly.
Hermione looks down in embarrassment and says, "Maybe you should just wait outside, Holly."
"Hermione, I'll go, but he..."
"I'll... see if I can talk him down."
"Hermione. Mr. Granger wasn't talking about me."
Hermione snaps up and looks first at Holly, then towards her mother. Mrs. Granger is staring at Hermione in shock, tears streaming down her face. She stutters out, "Hermione, p-please take whatever is important to you f-from the room you used to s-sleep in. We won't withdraw you from your school- just... just don't come back here."
"Mum--"
"DON'T! Don't... call me that."
Hermione's blood drains from her face, and she crumples to the floor bonelessly, desperately trying to catch a breath that won't stay in her lungs.
Mrs. Granger stares down at her without comment, though she continues to weep.
Holly glares once at her friend's tormentor, then reaches down to heft Hermione back to standing. Holly hands her a lemon drop and then starts guiding her towards the door.
"C'mon. Strategic withdrawal time."
~o~
Holly shuffles Hermione back out to the street and sets her to sitting on the kerb. Once assured that her friend isn't likely to tip over, she sighs heavily, draws the black walnut wand and advances on the Granger's front door. Just as she is about to open the now deadbolted and chained portal with a short gesture, Hermione yelps out from the street and rushes up waving her arms.
"WAIT! Holly-Wait-Please-Don't-You-Mustn't--"
Holly turns back with a scowl and holds the wand out towards Hermione, handle first.
Hermione's panic subsides and she stares without comprehension at the proffered tool before taking it into her hand.
"W-what...?"
"Operational security. They can't remember me being both."
"Oh. Okay. I'll do it. I'll be right back. After, can we...?"
"What?"
"Would you please take me to church?"
"Sure. We'll go wherever you'd like, away from here."
Hermione turns to re-enter her former address, and Holly steps back over to the Ministry sensor to assure that her filters are working properly.
~o~
Having driven into town and parked the motorcycle, Holly and Hermione approach Winchester Cathedral in a slow shuffle, Holly's arm wrapped around Hermione's waist for stability. They climb the steps together, each upward lift seeming harder than the last. Yet, even with this strange resistance, the near millenia-old stone foundation seems to calm both of their minds, and they continue the climb without pause. Hermione sighs as she enters the building, and Holly follows her with a similar relief... until she trips on the threshold, planting her face squarely into the limestone floor. She rises to sitting with a grumble, then pinches her nose to temper the blood flowing down her face.
Hermione hands her a kerchief and they shuffle to a quiet corner of the nave. Holly fixes her nose with a silent Episkey and cleans up with Tergeo, using Hermione's aid to guide her work to some satisfaction.
Once presentable, Hermione whispers to her, "Did you want to wait outside?"
"I'd say the Holy Powers have exacted a fair sacrifice of blood, so they should be satisfied for the time being. I'll just sit quietly until you're done. Kinda empty for a Sunday, isn't it?"
A solemn man in black and burgundy robes interrupts Hermione's reply. "Most people spend their time in the Visitor's Center once services are done. It's quite the tourist trap. How may I help you?"
From behind her blooded linen Holly quips, "I'm good. She's in turmoil."
"Holly!"
"What? Oh, right. Sitting quietly."
Hermione walks away with the pastor to allow them some privacy. Holly regards the impressive structure from her corner bench, letting her gaze follow the lines of architecture around the ceiling until she relaxes into a meditation.
Hermione returns an hour or so later. She appears resolute, though displeased.
"Holly, I'd like to go, now."
"Are you sure? You could pray for a bit."
"I already did. Let's go."
The witches leave the cathedral, heading out into the chilling dusk. Hermione leads them to the aforementioned Visitor's Center for a supper and warming tea. They sit along one corner of a cafe table to allow them to people-watch.
Holly sips at her tea before reopening the topic of faith. "So, did Pastor Peter Pumpkinhead have any guidance for you?"
"Pastor JEFFRIES was his usual self- I've spoken to him a few times in recent years. I explained the situation as well as I could--"
"Thrown out of your family due to sexual deviancy?"
"Ehm... yes. As always, he has a sympathetic ear, but his advice was to read Matthew- he always likes Matthew."
"Like what?"
"Well there's Matthew 7:13; 'Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.' That one has helped me many times in the past, when I was feeling alone in my efforts, and misunderstood."
"But it doesn't help now?"
"No."
"I assume Matthew has a few other gems to console you."
"Not really. He goes off on anger, wickedness, adultery..."
"Yup. I'm doomed."
"...and vows. Swearing by anything was a sham."
Holly sits back with an exaggerated grump. "I have the worst instincts for piety. Y'know, I think Matthew may have been warning people of just how much trouble it is to deal with us."
"How do you mean?"
"I imagine that there were magicals running around back then, too; if you're a muggle and you don't know that you're dealing with someone powerful, you could earn a world of trouble just from a badly-worded promise."
"By that perspective, Matthew is saying Jesus wanted humanity to accept their fate as slaves to the magical."
"Makes you wonder why the purebloods haven't embraced Catholicism."
"Holly!"
"What?"
"How is this supposed to help me?"
"No idea. You want me to tell you something that'll encourage your feelings of faith?"
"Yes!"
"It's very quiet in there."
"Uh! Is that all?"
"To me, it's everything. Riddle's thorn was silent. Whatever else faith and belief means to you, this place is a sanctuary. So was the church where we had Christmas Eve mass- I just didn't take notice of it 'cause I thought it was my love for you shining through. That'll teach me to be sappy."
"Holly, this IS the cathedral where we came for Christmas."
"Huh. Looks different in daylight. Still, it's protected by something that keeps Riddle as quiet... as a churchmouse."
"You're... you're not joking?"
"About this? Never."
Hermione turns to look with hope into Holly's eyes. Holly smiles and nods slightly. Hermione grabs her up in a tight hug, which Holly enjoys and reciprocates. The two girls embrace for a while, then separate when Hermione relaxes her grip.
"Thank you, Holly."
"Don't thank me; I'm just the messenger."
~o~
In case you're wondering how I handled this as calmly as I did, I started this voyage with only a single thought- 'Hermione won't forgive me if I kill her parents.' Once resolved to that, I was able to act as her wingwoman with relative aplomb.
Now all we have to do is convince her to spend her summers at the Nautilus and maybe she can recover from this complete betrayal. She's planning to hole up with Padma for now- work as therapy, I guess.
Please sit down and talk with her, Mum. She needs someone who can offer her sympathy. All I've been thinking is 'now you know what alone means'. For all that I would be jealous of her upbringing, her parents aren't worth much to her anymore. at least as I see it. As you can guess, I'm not the best support for her right now.
Love,
Holly
*
14th February, 1995
Holly,
Thank you for sharing that with me. I have spent some time with Hermione over the past two days, even utilising the device entrusted to Miss Patil to give her as much of my attention as she needed.
As such, I am pleased to tell you that you and Hermione now have one more quality in common; you are both my God-children. We have not made any decisions as to how to handle her official status within our world, but I thought you might best be kept informed. Speaking of which...
WHERE ARE YOU?
Minerva
*
Mum,
Don't be so angry- it was my understanding that classes were cancelled for Valentines Day. I had a Valentine I needed to personally deliver.
Natalia says 'Hi'.
Actually, Natalia said a whole lot of other things, but she wasn't talking to you, and most of them were quite personal, and lacking in a coherent sentence structure. She had to go back to work, but we're both much more relaxed, now.
Currently, I'm back in Winchester. Having finished some local clean-up work, I decided to spend a few more hours in the Cathedral. Please don't mention this to my god-sister, but I find it ironic that, in the realm of protecting my mind against evil influences, God's blessing on this building has proven just as useful as Natalia bringing me to ecstasy. I think both solutions have their merits. As an experiment, I stopped by a newer Anglican church- no good. Winchester Cathedral holds a blessing they must not be using anymore. Either that or I have to pay with blood at each location.
And yes, the Grangers are whole, intact and uninjured. I just went back to recover some keepsakes and ensure that they don't remember anything that could be used against us. Like that their daughter is still alive.
I'll be in your office for my usual dressing-down in about two hours.
Love,
Holly
*
22nd February, 1995
The Tale of Sunrise and Snowfall
It is early in the morning. Holly, Hermione and Padma are sitting in the strangely temperate patio between two towers, cuddling together beneath an oversized blanket on the east-facing bench to watch the rising sun.
"Holly, you've erased me."
"You're welcome."
"That wasn't a... damnit! Why did you do that? And why did you wait until now to tell me?! It's been a week!"
"Self-preservation instinct. Padma?" Holly leans back to look past Hermione's bushy hair sprouting from beneath a knit wool cap. The similarly-bundled Desi leans back as well.
"Yes?"
"How many people around your age are in your clan?"
Hermione grumbles, "Holly what does this--?"
"Don't interrupt. Padma?"
The dusky-skinned witch draws their blanket closer around her shoulders before answering. "I know by name and personality thirty-six, between siblings, cousins, and the like, all within five years of my birthday. Most events are shared celebrations, even for those without a twin sister."
"How many of them would you trust with your secrets?"
"None."
Hermione clarifies, "Not even Parvati?"
"There is a reason we were placed in separate houses. Parvati does not understand me, anymore."
Holly turns back to Hermione. "That's the difference between family and relatives. You should have been able to trust them, but your family betrayed you, so they don't deserve you. I'm keeping you for myself."
Hermione glowers.
"Something else bothering you?"
"What am I, to you?"
"Family! You're all my family. Well, Padma is a family friend, since she doesn't wish to be included in our fun."
"I have explained my reasons."
"Yes, and I am honouring them. You still deserve to be teased on occasion."
"Holly, what I meant to ask was, how are we to relate to one another?"
"I'm usually Holly. Sometimes I'm Harry. Deal with me as I appear."
"No! I mean, are we sisters, lovers, best friends, am I your vassal- what is our relationship?"
"You are you. I am me. When provoked, I will only argue with you- no hitting. When teased, I will tease back. When seduced, I will strip eagerly. If you seek male company, I'll point you to our other family member Natalia, or the virile bucks you can successfully hunt down. When I give an order, you should follow it. When you are at risk, I will move Heaven and Earth to save you. What else do you need to know?"
"What do I call you?"
Holly groans.
An overburdened owl swoops up into the air above them, dropping a satchel of books at Holly's feet. She reaches forward and pulls out a copy of 'Black Holly', leafing through the pages with a clear intent.
Padma interrupts, "I would like to know why Hermione is not permitted to have sex with Harry."
"Holly's concerned that the Spiral will supercede any anti-pregnancy charm. I still say you should trust your intent."
"And I still say you should recognise that when I'm Harry I WANT to make you pregnant- it's basic instinct. A-ha!" Holly stops and points to a specific paragraph. "See- books will always solve your problems. According to Ms. Skeeter, you call me 'My Dark Delicious Mistress' and I call you 'slave'. With a lower-case 's'."
Padma snorts at Holly. "That honorific makes you sound like a baked trifle."
Hermione whines, "Holly..."
"Enough of your insubordination! Take off your clothes and service us both- it's cold up here, and we need our blood churned by your hot body and expert lesbianistic slavishness!"
Padma leans in to express a concern. "Holly, I would rather we not--"
Hermione steps up from the bench, turns around and swoops her wand in the air. The gesture summons forth a mound of snow the size of Hagrid and Hermione proceeds to suspend it above their bench.
"Uh-oh."
Hermione dumps the mass onto Holly's head, incidentally covering Padma as well.
"Slave that, My Dim, Delirious Mistress!"
After a bit of screeching and flinging some snow away from their faces, Holly and Padma glare back at the defiant Gryffindor. Holly then smiles and adds, "See; you understand our relationship perfectly."
Padma isn't as amused. "I am now very cold, and quite unhappy about it."
Holly continues teasing Hermione; "Looks like you need to work out your lover's spat with the Desi, though."
Both Hermione and Padma instantly blush and turn away from looking at each other. Holly double-takes a look at both witches in turn.
"You dogs! No wonder no research gets done."
Padma stands up abruptly, glaring at Holly. "A new Map for the Tournament, new goggles, traceable runestones, not to mention... and you-- there is only one answer for that."
A quickly escalating snowball fight erupts, where Holly is immediately outgunned by the other two witches. They are soon joined by four Weasleys, Lee Jordan and Neville Longbottom. Several copies of 'Black Holly' are sacrificed for shields or traction during the altercation.
Or so the battle is recorded.
And that's why we all missed this oh-so-important breakfast. Rather than sit around watching five hundred ill-informed strangers lay judgment upon me, I got my arse whupped by my loving family (at least the ones under twenty).
Next time, I'll invite you beforehand. I'm sure you'd enjoy the opportunity to throw things at me.
Love,
Holly
*
Holly,
I am pleased to know that the Marauders' loyalty stands true. As for snow-related altercations, I will demurr, politely.
After all, I would wipe the floor with the lot of you, which hardly seems becoming for a respected educator.
With Love,
Minerva
*
23rd February, 1995
Mum,
Understood. Respect and all that. Sorry about your office. I'm glad the Headmaster was able to melt the ice down enough for you to safely reach your desk.
One other thought before I run off to hide from you; I was expecting an escalation of antagonism after the book's release, but now it seems everyone has a healthy fear of me, and several seem to be working out some sort of bribery/escape plan should I hold them accountable for their earlier pranks.
Amateurs. No sense of humour.
Love,
Holly
*
24th February, 1995
Mum,
I had such a complicated night. I hope the Task plays out more simply.
The Tales of Lion Taming
Ron and Holly are sitting on the rug in the Gryffindor common room, on opposite sides of the marble chess table. They are set up in front of the sofa near the fireplace, but no one still relaxing in the common room seems inclined to share the fire, keeping a polite (or fearful) distance. Dean and Seamus pass nearby to say hello to Ron, but Dean hastens their exit once he recognises the long burgundy hair of Ron's opponent.
Thus, it is remarkable when Alicia Spinnet walks up and sits down with them, ostensibly to watch their current match. Holly grabs a toffee from a bowl next to their chessboard, offering it to the sullen Gryffindor with the sling. She accepts the candy, pulling it from its cellophane with her teeth. Holly invokes a silent Muffliato before speaking.
"How's the arm?"
Alicia pushes locks of her long straight hair behind an ear to clear her view towards Holly. She looks down at the arm in her sling. "It's stiff. I can't feel anything when I turn it certain ways, and sometimes lose my grip. I... I don't think I'll be able to play Quidditch professionally."
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
Alicia looks confused, but pushes on with her original thought. "I wish to apologise for my actions. I was... told to provoke you, so that you would overreact and get expelled. I don't know how you did it, but no one remembers what happened. Of course, I can't quite seem to tell anyone either..."
"Who told you to provoke me, and why would you follow that instruction?"
"It was... I can't say. There was a debt, and it's settled, but I can't--"
"Fine. Apology accepted."
Alicia looks at her briefly with shock, and then stands up again. She looks down through her blond locks at Holly, as if wanting to say something more. She instead moves to leave but Holly interrupts her.
"Spinnet. What about other positions? Have you tried Seeker?"
"I don't have a good broom for acceleration like that. Besides, I love... loved Chasing."
Ron pipes up, "Seeking should be a breeze, then. Instead of tracking ten other players, the quaffle and two bludgers, you only need to worry about the bludgers, the other Seeker and the Snitch. With a good Chasing team, the Seeker only has to keep the other Seeker away from the Snitch until the score is run up. Ginny's a Chaser at heart, and a pro Seeker acts like a controlled bludger at times- breaking up formations and distracting the Keeper. Maybe she'd switch brooms with you, if you switch positions. At least you'd stay in the game."
Alicia gives Ron a worried look, nudging her head towards Holly.
"Oh, never mind her. It was Malfoy what dosed her into a fury, so she's helping our team for the rest of the year. Proves what I've always said- Holly don' care about Houses. She's a great friend, an entertaining rival or a scary enemy. Which would you choose?"
Alicia nods thoughtfully towards Ron, but then notices Angelina and Katie entering the common room through the portrait hole. With a brief look of panic, she scrambles to head up the stairs to her dorm. Holly cancels her privacy spell, evidenced by the string of green smoke that appears on the rug, only for it to dissipate into the hearthfire.
Holly returns her concentration to the board, though she asks, "Did you just call me an 'entertaining rival'?"
"Yeah. That's what Fred and George said- I was just quoting them. Did I say it wrong?"
"No. I think that's one to remember fondly. Thank you, Ron."
The other two chasers make a beeline for the chess players, though Katie glances back towards the dorm stairs with a concerned squint. Angelina steps up to their chess table, looking like she's preparing to kick it, but Holly glares up at her from over her glasses, giving the black girl a moment's pause. Angelina glowers back, then sets her gaze on Ron.
"Weasley. I'm thinking of moving you back to alternate, since you can't keep your mind on what's important."
"I was dead-on last practice. What are you on about?"
"I'm saying, your status as our keeper is hanging by a thread. Don't throw away your one useful skill for a... a... "
Ron stands up and faces the two girls. "A what? What are you gonna do, anyway? Put in McLaggen? He'd do more damage than the Slytherin beaters."
A taller boy with curly hair looks up from his scroll of homework at a nearby table. “Oi!”
Angelina answers. “Pipe down, Cormac. Ron, just send your skeevy twat back to the dungeons, and--"
"Screw you, Angelina! I don' care if you do chuck me from the team. Holly started as a Gryffindor and you treated her like shite from the get-go, back when she hadn't done anything to anyone but save Hermione's life! You think what happens 'round here is all her fault? Wake up! Anyway, she is my friend. Anyone got a problem with that?" Ron turns slowly to look into the face of every student watching the drama. When he finally turns back to face Angelina, she has pulled her wand. She aims it up towards Ron’s chin, causing him to pull back and stare down at it nervously.
"You don't want to get in my face, Weasley!"
Holly finally looks up from the chessboard. "Angie, please consider that any pain and suffering that Ron receives from you and yours should be considered... a good investment."
Angelina looks down at Holly in confusion."What?"
"You'll get it back, with interest."
Ron pipes up, "Yeah! She's very interested... in pain!"
Angelina stares at Ron and then at Holly. Her angry grimace falls slightly, and she whispers, “Consider yourself on probation, Weasley.” The black girl turns and stalks off towards the dorm stairs, her dark-haired companion nervously following a half-step behind.
Ron settles back from his confrontational stance, then sits back down across the chessboard from Holly. After a moment, he turns a confused look towards her, whispering, "Why am I letting you defend me? Won't I seem weak?"
"Ron, amongst other things, I have a reputation as an accomplished slut. You defending me may just look like you're trying too hard to earn my attention. On the other hand, me defending you makes it look like I value your company, so you must be good in bed. The girls will sit up and take notice."
"Oh! Brilliant!"
"Also, my threats aren't a bluff."
"Heh. No kidding! So; has anyone noticed me yet?"
"Y'know, I'm not sure I would be helping you to say. You won't learn how to see the signs for yourself if you don't have to fumble through figuring it out."
"C'mon, just a hint? If I've seen it once, I can figure out what I'm to be looking for. I'll only ask you this one time."
"Lavender." Holly finally selects her knight to advance on the board. It makes a rude gesture at a nearby white pawn who growls in response.
"No way. You're off. Every time I see her she's looking somewhere else."
Holly catches his eyes to emphasize her point. "So where do you think she was looking, right before then? More simply, what is she looking at right now?"
Ron swivels in place to take an obvious look at the couch to his right. "Well, right now she's looking at the tapestry over the fireplace."
"She into that sort of thing? Big fan of needlepoint or some such?"
Ron turns back to their quiet conversation. "No idea."
Holly smiles. "Thus concludes the lesson for today."
"Maybe for me..." Ron shifts a rook, opening a path towards Holly's king. "Check, mate in four."
"Aghk! Bloody bishops... alright. One more go. Any suggestions?"
"You like seeing the pieces fight too much- try playing a bit more defense."
"But I'm so good at offense..."
~o~
Holly loses three more games before leaving the Gryffindor common room. As she exits through the hole behind the Fat Lady's painting, Neville catches up to her, grabbing the sleeve of her robe. There is a brief kerfuffle as the Portrait closes on Neville's face and Holly is yanked backwards by Nev's free arm, but the Fat Lady gives a brief yelp (as if Nev was caught in her skirts) and opens once more.
'Watch it, you bumbler!'
Holly helps Neville escape the portrait and find his balance. "Nev, I don't think she likes you."
"No, she doesn't. My poor memory in the first few years made a bad impression, and the UNFORGIVING COW won't let up on me."
Said portrait huffs loudly and exits her frame. "Well, I never!"
Holly calls after her. "That's not what the gents by the Hufflepuff dorm say!"
Nev and Holly share a smile, hearing the retreating image scoff loudly in protest.
"Holly, I get why you're trying to protect me, but I want to help you. I thought that we were... friends, at least."
"We are. You're a dear to offer, but I have this one covered. I've taken a few dry runs late at night to get a lay of the land. The Black Lake is cold and deep, but survivable. After the Task, we'll see where the public's opinion shifts."
"You're going to be swimming across the Black Lake?"
"No. Well, yeah, but also diving into it to retrieve somebody we treasure. With any luck, they'll pick up on my friendship with Ron and make him my hostage."
"W-why would that be lucky?"
"The boy eats almost anything. He swallowed a runestone dipped in chocolate this evening- I mixed it in with our toffees. I should be able to track him down very quickly. Just in case- have a toffee. But don't try to chew it!"
Neville catches the small treat and snickers. "You are... amazing. If I was really brave I'd chuck this whole concern about status and just be your friend no matter what."
"Nev, don't discount the importance of your place in society. Your family is more than a background- it's a resource, and an obligation. Don't ruin your sense of honour by rejecting the people that taught it to you. I like your honour."
"But, we--"
"We'll meet privately, but this sort of association is already going to haunt you well into adulthood."
"What about your reputation? Don't you want to live the life you deserve? People should be praising you--"
"Nev, I... am living the life I deserve. Read Skeeter's book. She characterizes everything badly, but at least half the incidents actually happened, and most of my true crimes haven't been revealed."
Holly grasps Neville's hand, and then steps up to kiss him on the cheek. "Just knowing you still believe in me means a lot. Just... stay focused. You're at school. Now is the time to learn."
Holly turns to leave but is interrupted by a whisper.
"I want to learn the truth."
Without turning around, Holly whispers back, "What truth?"
"What do you really feel for me?"
Holly turns around to face Neville, but her expression is angry. "I worry about you. What I do NOT do is pine after you. My thoughts are generally occupied with strategy and tactics, and I'm not planning for my retirement or my marriage. I'm trying to do the most good before some lucky arsehat finally puts me in my grave for all the grief I make. You want to get closer? Make yourself useful. Convince me that I don't need to protect you from yourself or the predators that stalk these halls. Otherwise... s-stay out from underfoot."
Holly then turns and strides away at an anxious pace.
~o~
Holly arrives finally at the WWRX station room, just after midnight. She draws a sigil above the handle with a glowing fingertip, which unlocks the door. As she enters, two older Weasleys and Lee Jordan look up from inspecting the original Marauders Map. Lee steps away to settle into the DJ chair for a moment.
WWRX
Lee: "That concludes our evening broadcast. The overnight will be a mix of woodwind ballads that will either ease your sleep or send you to the loo. Join us tomorrow morning at ten when we will begin our coverage of the Second Task of the Tri-School Wizardry Tournament. I'm Lee Jordan, good night."
(click)
Fred gives Holly a squinty look. "Hols...."
Holly interrupts. "Your girlfriend's a bitch, Fred and it's not like I challenged her to a duel. I don't get why she's up in arms, though. It's not like she knows how Alicia really was injured."
"Ummm..."
Holly grimaces at the embarassed twin. "Oh, you didn't tell her..."
"Well, it just slipped out. We know you were tripped on Moonflowers, but you still did the deed."
George attempts to make some peace. "I'll bet no one ever casually lays a hand on you, though."
Holly turns to their other friend. "You have anything to add, Lee?"
"Well, Angelina was still ranting about your 'blackface' act during the World Cup, so I'd say she was just looking for an excuse."
"Lee!" Fred protests.
"Fred, she's a bitch. I hope she's a monster in the sack."
Fred smirks slightly and blushes. They all start pointing at him.
"AhhhhhhhhhHHHHH!"
Lee's wide smile is accompanied by some hyperactive eyebrows. "Suddenly, it all makes sense!"
George interrupts, "Oi! They just took Ginny."
"That figures. Next would be--"
"Hermione got nabbed, too." Fred adds.
"And Ron?"
"No. Guess I get to keep my colour man for the broadcast," Lee muses.
Holly notices another disappearance. "Cho was just grabbed. Proves what Hermione always doubted- no one can Apparate in Hogwarts, unless you're the headmaster."
George leans over the Map. "Say, where's Neville?"
Lee finds the wayward fourth year. "He's down here headed for the Slytherin dorms- what's he doing out this late?"
"I challenged him to make himself useful- no doubt he's found a way and was hoping to catch up with me despite the late hour. Lord knows I won't sleep much tonight."
Fred grumbles, "Won't matter- Professor Dumbledore just jacked him..."
George adds in, "...and he just collected up Tracey Davis, too. Parkinson doesn't look pleased- she's pacing about. Oi!"
"What's wrong, George?" Lee asks.
"Pansy's name- it just switched to Violet! No last name!"
"D'you think... she's an animagus?"
The boys turn towards Holly, but she's concentrating on a thought or ten, staring at a speck of dust floating before her.
Fred prods lightly, "Hols? You got a theory or some such?"
"Umm... yeah. Not about Pansy; don't worry on it- I'll look into that when I get back to my room. What I'm wondering now is... how small can an animagus get? I mean, Wormtail shrunk down to a pathetic little rat. Is there a limit?"
"No idea. Why's it matter?"
"Could perhaps someone shrink down into... a mosquito?"
Fred's smile grows wide. "A skeeter! Brilliant! We'll be on the Map, monitoring prior to the Task- no doubt she'll be around, looking for dirt to dig."
His brother interrupts, "Hang on."
"What, George?"
"Assuming she goes by 'Skeeter', she's in McGonagall's office, with the Professor and... who's Mr. Pink?"
Holly turns around to give them all a smile, and then heads for the door. "You'll meet him tomorrow. Looks like I have another meeting to attend. Thanks, lads."
Lee offers, "Good luck tomorrow, Hols."
"Yeah- do us shame!"
"Make us weep!"
Holly turns back to offer a warning. "Don't gamble- I have no idea how this one will play out."
All the lads reply, "Cheers!"
~o~
Holly approaches the entrance to Professor McGonagall's office under cover of the Cloak, but she stops as the door opens. A thin, pale man steps out into the hallway and places his purple tophat on his head. He is clean-shaven, with curly pink candyfloss hair barely constrained by his hat, and he's wearing lurid dress robes of pink and purple. The man takes a moment to settle his opaque swirly-coloured spectacles in place but freezes before continuing down the hallway. He sniffs the air, once.
"Miss Black, I believe?"
Holly doesn't remove the Cloak, but cancels the Silence so that she can be heard. "Mr. Pink, I presume?"
"Were you here to intercept me, or visit your mentor?"
"I was here to warn you about a third attendee to that meeting you just had."
"That wouldn't happen to be the insectoid attendee, would it?"
"How did you--?"
"Too slow, Hols. We nabbed her early this evening. Takes a sneak to catch a snitch. She is well sealed into Minerva's cups, if you take my meaning."
"Got it. See you tomorrow?"
"Certainly. I'm looking forward to watching that Veela trophy of yours slide through the water. Having now seen her, I have to ask; you had that arse alone and naked in the loo and still didn't tap it? What sort of Marauder are you?"
Holly invisibly shuffles up right next to Mr. Pink, allowing her to speak at a discreet whisper. "Sirius, as my father, do you really think we should be acting like carousing mates?"
"Well I was sort of enjoying this as another way for us to bond, seeing as we both like women and all. Besides, that's how you were describing her in your letters. You're in love with Natalia and respect and love Hermione but Fleur was really just a conquest, right?"
"No! If it were like that, I would have taken her in a womanly fashion. I don't take what I can just because it's attractive, and I don't lust for her body."
The pink-clad man coughs into a pink glove, though the sound is slightly reminiscent of 'bulsht!'
"I don't... only... lust for her body. I want her to understand me, respect me, and enjoy me as I'd like to enjoy her."
"Well, it's a good thing she's a genius mind-reader, or she'd just think you were like every other sex-crazed predator circling her since she got here."
"Damnit, I'm not... !"
Silence echoes in the corridor for a moment.
"Yes? You're not... what?"
"You're playing with me."
"No, just holding up a mirror."
"Well, fuck. I owe that woman a better apology. Thanks... Dad."
Mr. Pink grunts as he is grabbed around the midsection by an invisible daughter. He returns the embrace for a moment, then releases the unseen girl. From a few feet in front of him, he hears. "Love the hair."
"Get some sleep, you criminal."
Mr. Pink smiles and struts down the hall, heading towards the guest's rooms. After a few paces he yelps from receiving a short-range stinging hex in the coattails.
~o~
Just wanted to say, 'Good Show, Mum!' Now if I can just get Natalia to spend some time away from the Ministry, we can have some real fun with the press.
Love,
Holly
*
Holly Evans and the Spiral Path
Chapter 46: That Sinking Feeling
*
7th February, 1995
Mum,
Originally I thought I could just bear through this- ignore the stares and the catcalls and focus on the work I needed to get done. What I hadn't accounted for was the power of people to make your life hell just by unspoken community agreement. This almost seems like a magical ability, but I seem to remember this feeling from when Dudley would turn the class against me out of fear of his reprisal. Kids that had sat to draw with me one day were treating me like rotting garbage the next, and no matter how much I'd say to myself 'it doesn't matter', it did. We are social beings, and I wouldn't be surprised if there's power behind the intent of the mob- the force of their rejection may actually be making me ill.
Somehow, my current adversaries have found a 'sweet spot'; a level of antagonism that isn't sufficient to deserve a counter-attack, but just annoying enough to push my buttons- like Daphne 'accidentally' flinging dodecapede tar into my hair. It didn't take much exploratory prodding to end up with large clumps of my hair stuck in all sorts of ways. The 'simple' solution was a lemon juice rinse. It gets the tar out, but not the roadkill smell.
Even before my incarceration, lemons were not my favorite flavour, but having consumed a bagful of the lemon Calmers that night you brought me from Azkaban, I've started associating lemon with recovering from nerve-wracking trauma. Add in the dead meat scent, and Sim-Holly comes immediately to mind. I tried to sleep, but a simple adjustment to my pillow would release another oily citrus whiff from my hair, and suddenly I'd be curled up in a ball resting against the headboard, completely awake.
Daphne's prank was therefore enough to provoke a murderous response, but the effectiveness of it was entirely an accident. Even admitting I was greatly affected would be victory for her, so once again, I clamp down on my emotions and do nothing. Too many similar irritants have been added to my day to bother planning reprisals. I have enough to do trying to rein in Ron from reacting when the angry whispers start coming from ten different people in a crowded hallway. As an ally, he's a lot of work.
Most of the RE-class students have taken to attending Harry's practical lectures. I can't blame them as my sense of humour has been lacking. I wouldn't want to learn from a grumpy me, either. What I find amazing is how different it feels to teach as Harry- it's such a relief! The class has no ire or expectation other than to listen to my instructions and do the best that they can. That was how I started them off in September. It seems like a lifetime ago.
I still have a few die-hard supporters, mostly from Slytherin. They know that their lives are easier under my protection. That's who sits at my table now. Once Ron broke the ice they started accumulating, mostly led by Casey, Fiona, John and Lloyd, plus little Orla from Ravenclaw brought a friend. (Was I ever that small?) Also, Luna has joined us now that she's realised that an isolated Holly might mean 'Holly is nearly in my clutches!' I'd swear half of the pranks Ron has dodged or suffered lately are from her, but she has an impenetrable poker-face.
Anyway, faced with overwhelming derision, I've otherwise kept to myself, allowing Harry to take the fore whenever possible and spending my Holly-time in training.
Though I did arrange for some play-time...
The Tale of the Haunted Prince
Draco Malfoy looks tired. The normally perfectly-pressed and starched boy is slumped over a scroll in the library, accompanied by his ever-present protectors, both of whom are practicing their penmanship charms to correct their ink-spattered attempts at homework. Draco sighs audibly and leans back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with fatigue and frustration.
When he looks up again, he notices a dark figure with glasses on his pale face staring at him from the shadows of the upper stacks across the way. The figure pulls back into full concealment, but Draco continues to stare, tilting his face in appreciation of the messy black hair of the Boy-Who-Lived. The blond wizard checks his surrroundings- no one else has noticed his focused attention. He sits back and considers for a moment, then makes a big deal of languidly stretching out and idly rising from the table.
Crabbe and Goyle grunt in harmony, but Draco scowls at them, mumbling, "I need to stretch. Stay." Closing his book, Draco readjusts his robes and ambles around the desks and work tables, eventually reaching the stars to the upper stacks.
Within the shadows of the candle-lit shelves, he catches sight of his quarry at the end of the row. Harry stares meaningfully at him for a long moment, then disappears behind a pillar. When Draco reaches the corner, there is no-one there.
It takes a full five minutes for Draco to discover the latch to open the secret door in the wall. After a quick check to ensure his stealth, he slips into the hidden space. From behind the door, he now can see a long narrow passage with irregularly spaced peepholes, circumscribing at least two walls of the library. Draco grins in appreciation of the find and races to catch up with his famous benefactor. He makes it to a junction point where he once again discovers that he has lost track of his guide.
Another inspection eventually reveals a sliding portal that opens into a rarely-used corridor near the Ravenclaw tower. Draco notes noises in one direction echoing the movements of students in the main staircase, and chooses to head in the opposite direction. Upon turning a corner, Draco is annoyed to find himself at a dead end.
He hears a cough from above him and looks up.
Holly smiles at him from her position standing on the ceiling and says, "Surprise." Draco barely gasps before a stunner robs him of his senses.
He awakes, sitting on a stiff wood chair with his arms chained to a familiar table. An equally-familiar voice whispers from behind him.
"Sorry to ruin your plans to molest my brother, but I need to understand something which only you can confirm."
Draco looks down at the table and grumbles, "I have nothing to say to you, Evans. Release me now, if you know what's good for you."
Holly tosses a book onto the wooden surface, open to a page showing an illustration of a delicate flower placed between a sleeping couple. "The Mnemosyne Moonflower; I found spores from one in my room. As I understand it, they intensify and link the dreams of two people, allowing them a shortcut way to bond together for the sake of arranged marriages and such. The spores from the flower breathed by one betrothed tie back to the paramour smelling its scent. That's what you used, right?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Holly moves around to face Draco, sitting down in a chair across the table from him. Her voice softens. "As my dreams are generally disquieting horrors inspired by the personal history of Tom Riddle, and knowing that you've been looking haunted and acting almost polite towards me this week, I have come to the conclusion that you were the lucky volunteer to take a ride in my psyche. I wondered how you worked around the House vow. I suppose sharing dreams with a marriage prospect can't be considered an attack, even if you use wartcap to taint the experience. Do you feel closer to me now, Draco? Do you hear screams when you close your eyes?"
Draco's eyes goggle in remembrance of several vivid scenes of horror.
"I saw... I saw my... "
"Your father. Yes. He is quite the afficionado of pain and the uses of torture as entertainment. Riddle's favorite, aside from your Aunt Bellatrix and some creep named Dolohov. Seems my nightmares focused on your interests, maybe from knowing that you were in the audience."
Draco shivers. "I don't know how to feel about this."
"Well, take some time and figure it out. I'll give you this small piece of advice- if you think you can stand up in the world without the support of your father, then stand by your convictions. Make your indignation known. If, on the other hand, you have no idea how to live and operate without your father's blessing, you'd best toe his line. Embrace the depravity he will expect of you, or you'll be assassinated months after producing a viable heir."
"Why would you tell me that?"
"Someone should tell you the truth on occasion, or you'll never be able to tell the difference."
"Do you WANT me for your enemy?!"
Holly smiles in a teasing way. "Sure. I can defeat you easily. I'd be happy to have a non-threatening opponent. I could relax."
"But I defeated you!"
"HAH! You exaggerated my nightmares to the point where I wanted to kill people! What makes you think that I would have killed people that you wanted dead? It's like you made the full moon rise while surrounded by werewolves- how smart does that plan seem? You're just lucky you stayed out of my reach."
Draco shakes his head sullenly, whispering, “I hope you drown in this next Task, Evans.”
“Draco--”
“The name is MALFOY!”
“No, really? I thought it was Mao-Fly, like you were some kind of Chinese gnat that spouts poetry about the nobility of following orders."
Draco glares back in a mixture of confusion and distaste.
"Never mind- it's only funny to me, I guess. Speaking of anagrams, answer me this- has your father recently met with Voldemort in some form?”
Draco flinches, then blinks in confusion, finally goggling in a slight panic.
“Thanks. You can go now.” Holly flicks her wand and the chains open from around Draco's wrists.
“Wait- I didn’t say anything!”
“You didn’t have to- if you were panicked first, I’d know you were worried about letting out a secret, then you would be confused about how I knew to ask. Instead, you were confused by the question (it having nothing to do with your recent experience), and then panicked when you realised that it was possible, given what I said in the ‘Secrets’ gathering and those nightmares of mine you’ve recently enjoyed.”
“Damn you! Why are you so--?”
“Think, and learn, then choose. What I mean is; you’ll never be master of your own destiny if all you do is react; you can't make a good decision without enough information; and once you make a decision, commit to it, wholeheartedly. That's what I've been teaching. You seem lost, so I figure a full explanation is required."
"Why would you care? Your whole purpose is to destroy society- MY society. Why would teaching me anything matter?"
"Must be that you're wrong about my intentions. Why did you screw me over, if not for your Dark Lord’s sake?”
“Father pointed out that you are an enemy of the goblins... Gahh! Why did I tell you that?”
“Because I’ve given you good advice and you felt you should balance the books instead of feeling like you owed me for something. And, you don’t know when to keep your mouth shut, as I said before Lammas. That's the 'think' part that I mentioned.”
“You... Bitch!”
“Yah, also not great with the comebacks. I’ve already done you another favour, so let’s call it a night.”
“What favour?”
“You hate me again, so you won’t feel bad about my nightmares anymore. Sleep well, snake prince. You know I won’t.”
Holly turns to exit the room.
Draco growls in frustration. He stands, pulls his wand and aims it at Holly's head, but his hand trembles the more he concentrates. Holly turns back and faces him, standing in the open doorway, waiting. Finally, Draco's hand drops to his side and his head nods forward. Holly can hear a barely-suppressed sob.
Holly whispers with sadness, "The vow expires at the end of the school year, or if one of us is expelled. If you still feel motivated to hurt me, I'll meet you on the field of honour of your choosing. It could make your career and earn you accolades from your father and the goblins. All you'll have to do is defeat me. Of course, they'll want you to kill me. If you don't think you can kill me, maybe you should consider what that means to your view of the world.
"As to my intentions, I want to change the rules. I want people to be allowed to openly court and marry whomever they love. I want it so that no one is ground down because of what they are, but are held accountable for what they do. And I would prefer that a family name mean nothing, so that your predecessors' crimes won't affect how you are treated. In my world you'd still be rich- doesn't the rest seem sort of appealing? What kind of world has your father made for you? What sort of world will the Dark Lord make? I wonder."
She turns her back to him once more and leaves.
~o~
That felt good.
Love,
Holly
*
Sunday, 12th February, 1995
Mum,
This is a bit of an issue I hadn't foreseen, but first some background. Up until Hedwig was killed, Hermione had a regular avenue of communication with her parents. She would occasionally send letters to them by using a Hogwarts owl, but usually she'd use Hedwig, who would wait to return with packages, missives and sugar-free snacks. As things progressed, Hed would sometimes arrive with a package from her parents when neither of us had sent her to the Grangers. She was either that in tune with the people in my life or so bored that she would go looking for any mail to carry.
I miss her. [Me, too.]
Anyway, Hermione came upon a solution for her parents' benefit, which was to get them a subscription to the Daily Prophet. That way, they could re-hire the delivery owls using knuts and sickles (left with them for the purpose) to send packages back here. For some reason, neither of us figured they would read the paper much.
They read the paper, alright.
They're withdrawing Hermione from Hogwarts.
Before you accept any official communications, please let Hermione talk with them. I'm bringing her home via Apparation to the Madhouse, then driving over using my motorbike. I'll let you know how it goes.
Love,
Holly
*
Holly,
Seeing as you've already left the grounds, I'd like to remind you for future reference that I would have brought Hermione to her home directly to deal with a family conflict as her Head of House, and without the roundabout trip to hide from Ministry sensors at their home. (Mind you, if there hadn't been a previous crime enacted there, they probably wouldn't have emplaced the sensor at all). If you haven't spoken with the Grangers yet, please respond and I will join the discussion immediately.
With love,
Minerva
*
Thanks, Mum. We'd already left by the time I read your last reply. I think Hermione wanted the thinking time, to tell you the truth.
The Tale of Faith and Hope
Holly and Hermione arrive at the Grangers house mid-afternoon. Despite conservative driving and several Warming charms, Hermione is trembling when she unwraps herself from clutching onto Holly's back. Holly stands and locks the bike, and then turns to give Hermione a warming hug, rubbing her back briskly.
"Holly, thank you, but I'm not cold or terrified from the ride. I... I still don't know what to say to them."
"Me either. Just remember I'm here, and that you've faced danger and death before."
"Somehow, the surreality of our life has made our adventures more palatable than facing this."
"Hermione, you are a woman and a witch. Don't let them mistake you for something lesser."
"Got it. You'll stay out here?"
"Unless invited in. Like a vampire, I represent blood and darkness, but I prefer to act politely." Holly smirks.
Hermione grimaces at the poor joke. Holly gives her another hug and then steps back to let Hermione face her parents. The witch takes a calming breath and then strides up confidently to enter her home.
Moments later, Holly can hear the indistinct yelling begin. She waits patiently for ten minutes of vocal disharmony, finally growing bored enough to poke around. A minute passes and Holly uncovers the Ministry monitoring stone, hidden in a partially-crushed ceramic lawn gnome.
"Oh, they've got that so wrong. They're not mini-Santas; they're potato-coloured hick pygmy-pygmys."
Holly draws her black walnut wand and casts a few passive diagnostics near the stone. A few additional charms are added to the lawn ornament and Holly steps back to admire her handiwork. She cancels the diagnostic spells and charms the snow to erase impressions of her passage. Wandering back to the motorcycle, Holly is about to unreel an Extendable Ear when Hermione steps out of the front door and calls to her.
"Holly, would you come in to answer a few questions, please?"
"Sure."
~o~
Holly walks into the Granger's living room. Hermione is standing on one side, near the hearth, while Mr. and Mrs. Granger are sitting on the sofa opposite. Mrs. Granger gives Holly a threatening look, but Mr. Granger is unreadable, holding his face in his hands as if overwhelmed.
"Holly, my parents would like to know why... why you're amenable to my dating Harry."
"Eh?"
Hermione starts to explain, but Mr. Granger grumbles out, "You've corrupted my daughter, bespoiled her. Why would this half-brother of yours, the savior of your world, want anything to do with your discards? Everything else I understand, from the perspective of the twisted 'logic' of your Hell-spawned culture. But if this Boy-Who-Lived enjoys Hermione's company so well, why is it that you're here to stand by her in her moment of crisis?"
Holly turns a disbelieving look towards Hermione. "What did you want me to say?"
Hermione tremulously replies, "It would explain everything. Please, just--"
Holly shakes her head at first, but then scrunches her face in concentration. In a flash, Holly disappears, replaced by Harry in a finely-tailored wool suit. The Grangers jump to their feet, startled. They stare agog, first at Harry, then at Hermione, back to Harry, and back to Hermione.
Their daughter starts up, "You see? I am involved in a very important matter. This isn't some schoolgirl fancy or a melodramatic tear. There are real and important consequences--"
Mr. Granger turns to his wife and growls, "Get that abomination out of my house." He then turns to exit down the hallway, casting one last, disgusted look over his shoulder.
Harry shrugs and reverts to Holly.
Hermione looks down in embarrassment and says, "Maybe you should just wait outside, Holly."
"Hermione, I'll go, but he..."
"I'll... see if I can talk him down."
"Hermione. Mr. Granger wasn't talking about me."
Hermione snaps up and looks first at Holly, then towards her mother. Mrs. Granger is staring at Hermione in shock, tears streaming down her face. She stutters out, "Hermione, p-please take whatever is important to you f-from the room you used to s-sleep in. We won't withdraw you from your school- just... just don't come back here."
"Mum--"
"DON'T! Don't... call me that."
Hermione's blood drains from her face, and she crumples to the floor bonelessly, desperately trying to catch a breath that won't stay in her lungs.
Mrs. Granger stares down at her without comment, though she continues to weep.
Holly glares once at her friend's tormentor, then reaches down to heft Hermione back to standing. Holly hands her a lemon drop and then starts guiding her towards the door.
"C'mon. Strategic withdrawal time."
~o~
Holly shuffles Hermione back out to the street and sets her to sitting on the kerb. Once assured that her friend isn't likely to tip over, she sighs heavily, draws the black walnut wand and advances on the Granger's front door. Just as she is about to open the now deadbolted and chained portal with a short gesture, Hermione yelps out from the street and rushes up waving her arms.
"WAIT! Holly-Wait-Please-Don't-You-Mustn't--"
Holly turns back with a scowl and holds the wand out towards Hermione, handle first.
Hermione's panic subsides and she stares without comprehension at the proffered tool before taking it into her hand.
"W-what...?"
"Operational security. They can't remember me being both."
"Oh. Okay. I'll do it. I'll be right back. After, can we...?"
"What?"
"Would you please take me to church?"
"Sure. We'll go wherever you'd like, away from here."
Hermione turns to re-enter her former address, and Holly steps back over to the Ministry sensor to assure that her filters are working properly.
~o~
Having driven into town and parked the motorcycle, Holly and Hermione approach Winchester Cathedral in a slow shuffle, Holly's arm wrapped around Hermione's waist for stability. They climb the steps together, each upward lift seeming harder than the last. Yet, even with this strange resistance, the near millenia-old stone foundation seems to calm both of their minds, and they continue the climb without pause. Hermione sighs as she enters the building, and Holly follows her with a similar relief... until she trips on the threshold, planting her face squarely into the limestone floor. She rises to sitting with a grumble, then pinches her nose to temper the blood flowing down her face.
Hermione hands her a kerchief and they shuffle to a quiet corner of the nave. Holly fixes her nose with a silent Episkey and cleans up with Tergeo, using Hermione's aid to guide her work to some satisfaction.
Once presentable, Hermione whispers to her, "Did you want to wait outside?"
"I'd say the Holy Powers have exacted a fair sacrifice of blood, so they should be satisfied for the time being. I'll just sit quietly until you're done. Kinda empty for a Sunday, isn't it?"
A solemn man in black and burgundy robes interrupts Hermione's reply. "Most people spend their time in the Visitor's Center once services are done. It's quite the tourist trap. How may I help you?"
From behind her blooded linen Holly quips, "I'm good. She's in turmoil."
"Holly!"
"What? Oh, right. Sitting quietly."
Hermione walks away with the pastor to allow them some privacy. Holly regards the impressive structure from her corner bench, letting her gaze follow the lines of architecture around the ceiling until she relaxes into a meditation.
Hermione returns an hour or so later. She appears resolute, though displeased.
"Holly, I'd like to go, now."
"Are you sure? You could pray for a bit."
"I already did. Let's go."
The witches leave the cathedral, heading out into the chilling dusk. Hermione leads them to the aforementioned Visitor's Center for a supper and warming tea. They sit along one corner of a cafe table to allow them to people-watch.
Holly sips at her tea before reopening the topic of faith. "So, did Pastor Peter Pumpkinhead have any guidance for you?"
"Pastor JEFFRIES was his usual self- I've spoken to him a few times in recent years. I explained the situation as well as I could--"
"Thrown out of your family due to sexual deviancy?"
"Ehm... yes. As always, he has a sympathetic ear, but his advice was to read Matthew- he always likes Matthew."
"Like what?"
"Well there's Matthew 7:13; 'Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.' That one has helped me many times in the past, when I was feeling alone in my efforts, and misunderstood."
"But it doesn't help now?"
"No."
"I assume Matthew has a few other gems to console you."
"Not really. He goes off on anger, wickedness, adultery..."
"Yup. I'm doomed."
"...and vows. Swearing by anything was a sham."
Holly sits back with an exaggerated grump. "I have the worst instincts for piety. Y'know, I think Matthew may have been warning people of just how much trouble it is to deal with us."
"How do you mean?"
"I imagine that there were magicals running around back then, too; if you're a muggle and you don't know that you're dealing with someone powerful, you could earn a world of trouble just from a badly-worded promise."
"By that perspective, Matthew is saying Jesus wanted humanity to accept their fate as slaves to the magical."
"Makes you wonder why the purebloods haven't embraced Catholicism."
"Holly!"
"What?"
"How is this supposed to help me?"
"No idea. You want me to tell you something that'll encourage your feelings of faith?"
"Yes!"
"It's very quiet in there."
"Uh! Is that all?"
"To me, it's everything. Riddle's thorn was silent. Whatever else faith and belief means to you, this place is a sanctuary. So was the church where we had Christmas Eve mass- I just didn't take notice of it 'cause I thought it was my love for you shining through. That'll teach me to be sappy."
"Holly, this IS the cathedral where we came for Christmas."
"Huh. Looks different in daylight. Still, it's protected by something that keeps Riddle as quiet... as a churchmouse."
"You're... you're not joking?"
"About this? Never."
Hermione turns to look with hope into Holly's eyes. Holly smiles and nods slightly. Hermione grabs her up in a tight hug, which Holly enjoys and reciprocates. The two girls embrace for a while, then separate when Hermione relaxes her grip.
"Thank you, Holly."
"Don't thank me; I'm just the messenger."
~o~
In case you're wondering how I handled this as calmly as I did, I started this voyage with only a single thought- 'Hermione won't forgive me if I kill her parents.' Once resolved to that, I was able to act as her wingwoman with relative aplomb.
Now all we have to do is convince her to spend her summers at the Nautilus and maybe she can recover from this complete betrayal. She's planning to hole up with Padma for now- work as therapy, I guess.
Please sit down and talk with her, Mum. She needs someone who can offer her sympathy. All I've been thinking is 'now you know what alone means'. For all that I would be jealous of her upbringing, her parents aren't worth much to her anymore. at least as I see it. As you can guess, I'm not the best support for her right now.
Love,
Holly
*
14th February, 1995
Holly,
Thank you for sharing that with me. I have spent some time with Hermione over the past two days, even utilising the device entrusted to Miss Patil to give her as much of my attention as she needed.
As such, I am pleased to tell you that you and Hermione now have one more quality in common; you are both my God-children. We have not made any decisions as to how to handle her official status within our world, but I thought you might best be kept informed. Speaking of which...
WHERE ARE YOU?
Minerva
*
Mum,
Don't be so angry- it was my understanding that classes were cancelled for Valentines Day. I had a Valentine I needed to personally deliver.
Natalia says 'Hi'.
Actually, Natalia said a whole lot of other things, but she wasn't talking to you, and most of them were quite personal, and lacking in a coherent sentence structure. She had to go back to work, but we're both much more relaxed, now.
Currently, I'm back in Winchester. Having finished some local clean-up work, I decided to spend a few more hours in the Cathedral. Please don't mention this to my god-sister, but I find it ironic that, in the realm of protecting my mind against evil influences, God's blessing on this building has proven just as useful as Natalia bringing me to ecstasy. I think both solutions have their merits. As an experiment, I stopped by a newer Anglican church- no good. Winchester Cathedral holds a blessing they must not be using anymore. Either that or I have to pay with blood at each location.
And yes, the Grangers are whole, intact and uninjured. I just went back to recover some keepsakes and ensure that they don't remember anything that could be used against us. Like that their daughter is still alive.
I'll be in your office for my usual dressing-down in about two hours.
Love,
Holly
*
22nd February, 1995
The Tale of Sunrise and Snowfall
It is early in the morning. Holly, Hermione and Padma are sitting in the strangely temperate patio between two towers, cuddling together beneath an oversized blanket on the east-facing bench to watch the rising sun.
"Holly, you've erased me."
"You're welcome."
"That wasn't a... damnit! Why did you do that? And why did you wait until now to tell me?! It's been a week!"
"Self-preservation instinct. Padma?" Holly leans back to look past Hermione's bushy hair sprouting from beneath a knit wool cap. The similarly-bundled Desi leans back as well.
"Yes?"
"How many people around your age are in your clan?"
Hermione grumbles, "Holly what does this--?"
"Don't interrupt. Padma?"
The dusky-skinned witch draws their blanket closer around her shoulders before answering. "I know by name and personality thirty-six, between siblings, cousins, and the like, all within five years of my birthday. Most events are shared celebrations, even for those without a twin sister."
"How many of them would you trust with your secrets?"
"None."
Hermione clarifies, "Not even Parvati?"
"There is a reason we were placed in separate houses. Parvati does not understand me, anymore."
Holly turns back to Hermione. "That's the difference between family and relatives. You should have been able to trust them, but your family betrayed you, so they don't deserve you. I'm keeping you for myself."
Hermione glowers.
"Something else bothering you?"
"What am I, to you?"
"Family! You're all my family. Well, Padma is a family friend, since she doesn't wish to be included in our fun."
"I have explained my reasons."
"Yes, and I am honouring them. You still deserve to be teased on occasion."
"Holly, what I meant to ask was, how are we to relate to one another?"
"I'm usually Holly. Sometimes I'm Harry. Deal with me as I appear."
"No! I mean, are we sisters, lovers, best friends, am I your vassal- what is our relationship?"
"You are you. I am me. When provoked, I will only argue with you- no hitting. When teased, I will tease back. When seduced, I will strip eagerly. If you seek male company, I'll point you to our other family member Natalia, or the virile bucks you can successfully hunt down. When I give an order, you should follow it. When you are at risk, I will move Heaven and Earth to save you. What else do you need to know?"
"What do I call you?"
Holly groans.
An overburdened owl swoops up into the air above them, dropping a satchel of books at Holly's feet. She reaches forward and pulls out a copy of 'Black Holly', leafing through the pages with a clear intent.
Padma interrupts, "I would like to know why Hermione is not permitted to have sex with Harry."
"Holly's concerned that the Spiral will supercede any anti-pregnancy charm. I still say you should trust your intent."
"And I still say you should recognise that when I'm Harry I WANT to make you pregnant- it's basic instinct. A-ha!" Holly stops and points to a specific paragraph. "See- books will always solve your problems. According to Ms. Skeeter, you call me 'My Dark Delicious Mistress' and I call you 'slave'. With a lower-case 's'."
Padma snorts at Holly. "That honorific makes you sound like a baked trifle."
Hermione whines, "Holly..."
"Enough of your insubordination! Take off your clothes and service us both- it's cold up here, and we need our blood churned by your hot body and expert lesbianistic slavishness!"
Padma leans in to express a concern. "Holly, I would rather we not--"
Hermione steps up from the bench, turns around and swoops her wand in the air. The gesture summons forth a mound of snow the size of Hagrid and Hermione proceeds to suspend it above their bench.
"Uh-oh."
Hermione dumps the mass onto Holly's head, incidentally covering Padma as well.
"Slave that, My Dim, Delirious Mistress!"
After a bit of screeching and flinging some snow away from their faces, Holly and Padma glare back at the defiant Gryffindor. Holly then smiles and adds, "See; you understand our relationship perfectly."
Padma isn't as amused. "I am now very cold, and quite unhappy about it."
Holly continues teasing Hermione; "Looks like you need to work out your lover's spat with the Desi, though."
Both Hermione and Padma instantly blush and turn away from looking at each other. Holly double-takes a look at both witches in turn.
"You dogs! No wonder no research gets done."
Padma stands up abruptly, glaring at Holly. "A new Map for the Tournament, new goggles, traceable runestones, not to mention... and you-- there is only one answer for that."
A quickly escalating snowball fight erupts, where Holly is immediately outgunned by the other two witches. They are soon joined by four Weasleys, Lee Jordan and Neville Longbottom. Several copies of 'Black Holly' are sacrificed for shields or traction during the altercation.
Or so the battle is recorded.
And that's why we all missed this oh-so-important breakfast. Rather than sit around watching five hundred ill-informed strangers lay judgment upon me, I got my arse whupped by my loving family (at least the ones under twenty).
Next time, I'll invite you beforehand. I'm sure you'd enjoy the opportunity to throw things at me.
Love,
Holly
*
Holly,
I am pleased to know that the Marauders' loyalty stands true. As for snow-related altercations, I will demurr, politely.
After all, I would wipe the floor with the lot of you, which hardly seems becoming for a respected educator.
With Love,
Minerva
*
23rd February, 1995
Mum,
Understood. Respect and all that. Sorry about your office. I'm glad the Headmaster was able to melt the ice down enough for you to safely reach your desk.
One other thought before I run off to hide from you; I was expecting an escalation of antagonism after the book's release, but now it seems everyone has a healthy fear of me, and several seem to be working out some sort of bribery/escape plan should I hold them accountable for their earlier pranks.
Amateurs. No sense of humour.
Love,
Holly
*
24th February, 1995
Mum,
I had such a complicated night. I hope the Task plays out more simply.
The Tales of Lion Taming
Ron and Holly are sitting on the rug in the Gryffindor common room, on opposite sides of the marble chess table. They are set up in front of the sofa near the fireplace, but no one still relaxing in the common room seems inclined to share the fire, keeping a polite (or fearful) distance. Dean and Seamus pass nearby to say hello to Ron, but Dean hastens their exit once he recognises the long burgundy hair of Ron's opponent.
Thus, it is remarkable when Alicia Spinnet walks up and sits down with them, ostensibly to watch their current match. Holly grabs a toffee from a bowl next to their chessboard, offering it to the sullen Gryffindor with the sling. She accepts the candy, pulling it from its cellophane with her teeth. Holly invokes a silent Muffliato before speaking.
"How's the arm?"
Alicia pushes locks of her long straight hair behind an ear to clear her view towards Holly. She looks down at the arm in her sling. "It's stiff. I can't feel anything when I turn it certain ways, and sometimes lose my grip. I... I don't think I'll be able to play Quidditch professionally."
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
Alicia looks confused, but pushes on with her original thought. "I wish to apologise for my actions. I was... told to provoke you, so that you would overreact and get expelled. I don't know how you did it, but no one remembers what happened. Of course, I can't quite seem to tell anyone either..."
"Who told you to provoke me, and why would you follow that instruction?"
"It was... I can't say. There was a debt, and it's settled, but I can't--"
"Fine. Apology accepted."
Alicia looks at her briefly with shock, and then stands up again. She looks down through her blond locks at Holly, as if wanting to say something more. She instead moves to leave but Holly interrupts her.
"Spinnet. What about other positions? Have you tried Seeker?"
"I don't have a good broom for acceleration like that. Besides, I love... loved Chasing."
Ron pipes up, "Seeking should be a breeze, then. Instead of tracking ten other players, the quaffle and two bludgers, you only need to worry about the bludgers, the other Seeker and the Snitch. With a good Chasing team, the Seeker only has to keep the other Seeker away from the Snitch until the score is run up. Ginny's a Chaser at heart, and a pro Seeker acts like a controlled bludger at times- breaking up formations and distracting the Keeper. Maybe she'd switch brooms with you, if you switch positions. At least you'd stay in the game."
Alicia gives Ron a worried look, nudging her head towards Holly.
"Oh, never mind her. It was Malfoy what dosed her into a fury, so she's helping our team for the rest of the year. Proves what I've always said- Holly don' care about Houses. She's a great friend, an entertaining rival or a scary enemy. Which would you choose?"
Alicia nods thoughtfully towards Ron, but then notices Angelina and Katie entering the common room through the portrait hole. With a brief look of panic, she scrambles to head up the stairs to her dorm. Holly cancels her privacy spell, evidenced by the string of green smoke that appears on the rug, only for it to dissipate into the hearthfire.
Holly returns her concentration to the board, though she asks, "Did you just call me an 'entertaining rival'?"
"Yeah. That's what Fred and George said- I was just quoting them. Did I say it wrong?"
"No. I think that's one to remember fondly. Thank you, Ron."
The other two chasers make a beeline for the chess players, though Katie glances back towards the dorm stairs with a concerned squint. Angelina steps up to their chess table, looking like she's preparing to kick it, but Holly glares up at her from over her glasses, giving the black girl a moment's pause. Angelina glowers back, then sets her gaze on Ron.
"Weasley. I'm thinking of moving you back to alternate, since you can't keep your mind on what's important."
"I was dead-on last practice. What are you on about?"
"I'm saying, your status as our keeper is hanging by a thread. Don't throw away your one useful skill for a... a... "
Ron stands up and faces the two girls. "A what? What are you gonna do, anyway? Put in McLaggen? He'd do more damage than the Slytherin beaters."
A taller boy with curly hair looks up from his scroll of homework at a nearby table. “Oi!”
Angelina answers. “Pipe down, Cormac. Ron, just send your skeevy twat back to the dungeons, and--"
"Screw you, Angelina! I don' care if you do chuck me from the team. Holly started as a Gryffindor and you treated her like shite from the get-go, back when she hadn't done anything to anyone but save Hermione's life! You think what happens 'round here is all her fault? Wake up! Anyway, she is my friend. Anyone got a problem with that?" Ron turns slowly to look into the face of every student watching the drama. When he finally turns back to face Angelina, she has pulled her wand. She aims it up towards Ron’s chin, causing him to pull back and stare down at it nervously.
"You don't want to get in my face, Weasley!"
Holly finally looks up from the chessboard. "Angie, please consider that any pain and suffering that Ron receives from you and yours should be considered... a good investment."
Angelina looks down at Holly in confusion."What?"
"You'll get it back, with interest."
Ron pipes up, "Yeah! She's very interested... in pain!"
Angelina stares at Ron and then at Holly. Her angry grimace falls slightly, and she whispers, “Consider yourself on probation, Weasley.” The black girl turns and stalks off towards the dorm stairs, her dark-haired companion nervously following a half-step behind.
Ron settles back from his confrontational stance, then sits back down across the chessboard from Holly. After a moment, he turns a confused look towards her, whispering, "Why am I letting you defend me? Won't I seem weak?"
"Ron, amongst other things, I have a reputation as an accomplished slut. You defending me may just look like you're trying too hard to earn my attention. On the other hand, me defending you makes it look like I value your company, so you must be good in bed. The girls will sit up and take notice."
"Oh! Brilliant!"
"Also, my threats aren't a bluff."
"Heh. No kidding! So; has anyone noticed me yet?"
"Y'know, I'm not sure I would be helping you to say. You won't learn how to see the signs for yourself if you don't have to fumble through figuring it out."
"C'mon, just a hint? If I've seen it once, I can figure out what I'm to be looking for. I'll only ask you this one time."
"Lavender." Holly finally selects her knight to advance on the board. It makes a rude gesture at a nearby white pawn who growls in response.
"No way. You're off. Every time I see her she's looking somewhere else."
Holly catches his eyes to emphasize her point. "So where do you think she was looking, right before then? More simply, what is she looking at right now?"
Ron swivels in place to take an obvious look at the couch to his right. "Well, right now she's looking at the tapestry over the fireplace."
"She into that sort of thing? Big fan of needlepoint or some such?"
Ron turns back to their quiet conversation. "No idea."
Holly smiles. "Thus concludes the lesson for today."
"Maybe for me..." Ron shifts a rook, opening a path towards Holly's king. "Check, mate in four."
"Aghk! Bloody bishops... alright. One more go. Any suggestions?"
"You like seeing the pieces fight too much- try playing a bit more defense."
"But I'm so good at offense..."
~o~
Holly loses three more games before leaving the Gryffindor common room. As she exits through the hole behind the Fat Lady's painting, Neville catches up to her, grabbing the sleeve of her robe. There is a brief kerfuffle as the Portrait closes on Neville's face and Holly is yanked backwards by Nev's free arm, but the Fat Lady gives a brief yelp (as if Nev was caught in her skirts) and opens once more.
'Watch it, you bumbler!'
Holly helps Neville escape the portrait and find his balance. "Nev, I don't think she likes you."
"No, she doesn't. My poor memory in the first few years made a bad impression, and the UNFORGIVING COW won't let up on me."
Said portrait huffs loudly and exits her frame. "Well, I never!"
Holly calls after her. "That's not what the gents by the Hufflepuff dorm say!"
Nev and Holly share a smile, hearing the retreating image scoff loudly in protest.
"Holly, I get why you're trying to protect me, but I want to help you. I thought that we were... friends, at least."
"We are. You're a dear to offer, but I have this one covered. I've taken a few dry runs late at night to get a lay of the land. The Black Lake is cold and deep, but survivable. After the Task, we'll see where the public's opinion shifts."
"You're going to be swimming across the Black Lake?"
"No. Well, yeah, but also diving into it to retrieve somebody we treasure. With any luck, they'll pick up on my friendship with Ron and make him my hostage."
"W-why would that be lucky?"
"The boy eats almost anything. He swallowed a runestone dipped in chocolate this evening- I mixed it in with our toffees. I should be able to track him down very quickly. Just in case- have a toffee. But don't try to chew it!"
Neville catches the small treat and snickers. "You are... amazing. If I was really brave I'd chuck this whole concern about status and just be your friend no matter what."
"Nev, don't discount the importance of your place in society. Your family is more than a background- it's a resource, and an obligation. Don't ruin your sense of honour by rejecting the people that taught it to you. I like your honour."
"But, we--"
"We'll meet privately, but this sort of association is already going to haunt you well into adulthood."
"What about your reputation? Don't you want to live the life you deserve? People should be praising you--"
"Nev, I... am living the life I deserve. Read Skeeter's book. She characterizes everything badly, but at least half the incidents actually happened, and most of my true crimes haven't been revealed."
Holly grasps Neville's hand, and then steps up to kiss him on the cheek. "Just knowing you still believe in me means a lot. Just... stay focused. You're at school. Now is the time to learn."
Holly turns to leave but is interrupted by a whisper.
"I want to learn the truth."
Without turning around, Holly whispers back, "What truth?"
"What do you really feel for me?"
Holly turns around to face Neville, but her expression is angry. "I worry about you. What I do NOT do is pine after you. My thoughts are generally occupied with strategy and tactics, and I'm not planning for my retirement or my marriage. I'm trying to do the most good before some lucky arsehat finally puts me in my grave for all the grief I make. You want to get closer? Make yourself useful. Convince me that I don't need to protect you from yourself or the predators that stalk these halls. Otherwise... s-stay out from underfoot."
Holly then turns and strides away at an anxious pace.
~o~
Holly arrives finally at the WWRX station room, just after midnight. She draws a sigil above the handle with a glowing fingertip, which unlocks the door. As she enters, two older Weasleys and Lee Jordan look up from inspecting the original Marauders Map. Lee steps away to settle into the DJ chair for a moment.
WWRX
Lee: "That concludes our evening broadcast. The overnight will be a mix of woodwind ballads that will either ease your sleep or send you to the loo. Join us tomorrow morning at ten when we will begin our coverage of the Second Task of the Tri-School Wizardry Tournament. I'm Lee Jordan, good night."
(click)
Fred gives Holly a squinty look. "Hols...."
Holly interrupts. "Your girlfriend's a bitch, Fred and it's not like I challenged her to a duel. I don't get why she's up in arms, though. It's not like she knows how Alicia really was injured."
"Ummm..."
Holly grimaces at the embarassed twin. "Oh, you didn't tell her..."
"Well, it just slipped out. We know you were tripped on Moonflowers, but you still did the deed."
George attempts to make some peace. "I'll bet no one ever casually lays a hand on you, though."
Holly turns to their other friend. "You have anything to add, Lee?"
"Well, Angelina was still ranting about your 'blackface' act during the World Cup, so I'd say she was just looking for an excuse."
"Lee!" Fred protests.
"Fred, she's a bitch. I hope she's a monster in the sack."
Fred smirks slightly and blushes. They all start pointing at him.
"AhhhhhhhhhHHHHH!"
Lee's wide smile is accompanied by some hyperactive eyebrows. "Suddenly, it all makes sense!"
George interrupts, "Oi! They just took Ginny."
"That figures. Next would be--"
"Hermione got nabbed, too." Fred adds.
"And Ron?"
"No. Guess I get to keep my colour man for the broadcast," Lee muses.
Holly notices another disappearance. "Cho was just grabbed. Proves what Hermione always doubted- no one can Apparate in Hogwarts, unless you're the headmaster."
George leans over the Map. "Say, where's Neville?"
Lee finds the wayward fourth year. "He's down here headed for the Slytherin dorms- what's he doing out this late?"
"I challenged him to make himself useful- no doubt he's found a way and was hoping to catch up with me despite the late hour. Lord knows I won't sleep much tonight."
Fred grumbles, "Won't matter- Professor Dumbledore just jacked him..."
George adds in, "...and he just collected up Tracey Davis, too. Parkinson doesn't look pleased- she's pacing about. Oi!"
"What's wrong, George?" Lee asks.
"Pansy's name- it just switched to Violet! No last name!"
"D'you think... she's an animagus?"
The boys turn towards Holly, but she's concentrating on a thought or ten, staring at a speck of dust floating before her.
Fred prods lightly, "Hols? You got a theory or some such?"
"Umm... yeah. Not about Pansy; don't worry on it- I'll look into that when I get back to my room. What I'm wondering now is... how small can an animagus get? I mean, Wormtail shrunk down to a pathetic little rat. Is there a limit?"
"No idea. Why's it matter?"
"Could perhaps someone shrink down into... a mosquito?"
Fred's smile grows wide. "A skeeter! Brilliant! We'll be on the Map, monitoring prior to the Task- no doubt she'll be around, looking for dirt to dig."
His brother interrupts, "Hang on."
"What, George?"
"Assuming she goes by 'Skeeter', she's in McGonagall's office, with the Professor and... who's Mr. Pink?"
Holly turns around to give them all a smile, and then heads for the door. "You'll meet him tomorrow. Looks like I have another meeting to attend. Thanks, lads."
Lee offers, "Good luck tomorrow, Hols."
"Yeah- do us shame!"
"Make us weep!"
Holly turns back to offer a warning. "Don't gamble- I have no idea how this one will play out."
All the lads reply, "Cheers!"
~o~
Holly approaches the entrance to Professor McGonagall's office under cover of the Cloak, but she stops as the door opens. A thin, pale man steps out into the hallway and places his purple tophat on his head. He is clean-shaven, with curly pink candyfloss hair barely constrained by his hat, and he's wearing lurid dress robes of pink and purple. The man takes a moment to settle his opaque swirly-coloured spectacles in place but freezes before continuing down the hallway. He sniffs the air, once.
"Miss Black, I believe?"
Holly doesn't remove the Cloak, but cancels the Silence so that she can be heard. "Mr. Pink, I presume?"
"Were you here to intercept me, or visit your mentor?"
"I was here to warn you about a third attendee to that meeting you just had."
"That wouldn't happen to be the insectoid attendee, would it?"
"How did you--?"
"Too slow, Hols. We nabbed her early this evening. Takes a sneak to catch a snitch. She is well sealed into Minerva's cups, if you take my meaning."
"Got it. See you tomorrow?"
"Certainly. I'm looking forward to watching that Veela trophy of yours slide through the water. Having now seen her, I have to ask; you had that arse alone and naked in the loo and still didn't tap it? What sort of Marauder are you?"
Holly invisibly shuffles up right next to Mr. Pink, allowing her to speak at a discreet whisper. "Sirius, as my father, do you really think we should be acting like carousing mates?"
"Well I was sort of enjoying this as another way for us to bond, seeing as we both like women and all. Besides, that's how you were describing her in your letters. You're in love with Natalia and respect and love Hermione but Fleur was really just a conquest, right?"
"No! If it were like that, I would have taken her in a womanly fashion. I don't take what I can just because it's attractive, and I don't lust for her body."
The pink-clad man coughs into a pink glove, though the sound is slightly reminiscent of 'bulsht!'
"I don't... only... lust for her body. I want her to understand me, respect me, and enjoy me as I'd like to enjoy her."
"Well, it's a good thing she's a genius mind-reader, or she'd just think you were like every other sex-crazed predator circling her since she got here."
"Damnit, I'm not... !"
Silence echoes in the corridor for a moment.
"Yes? You're not... what?"
"You're playing with me."
"No, just holding up a mirror."
"Well, fuck. I owe that woman a better apology. Thanks... Dad."
Mr. Pink grunts as he is grabbed around the midsection by an invisible daughter. He returns the embrace for a moment, then releases the unseen girl. From a few feet in front of him, he hears. "Love the hair."
"Get some sleep, you criminal."
Mr. Pink smiles and struts down the hall, heading towards the guest's rooms. After a few paces he yelps from receiving a short-range stinging hex in the coattails.
~o~
Just wanted to say, 'Good Show, Mum!' Now if I can just get Natalia to spend some time away from the Ministry, we can have some real fun with the press.
Love,
Holly
*
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