FicWad

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



Author's Note: Since the asterisks don't work very well as a section divider, I'm switching to using a different marker to indicate a new post.

Section dividers remain this: ~o~

Post dividers will be this: ~[H]~

I apologize for any resulting confusion. At some point, I'll go back to edit the earlier chapters to match (and fix a few references to 'Scotch' that should have said 'whisky'). Maybe I'll even correct all the different ways I spell Trelawney's first name.



Holly Evans and the Spiral Path

Chapter 48: Ill Omens

~[H]~

7th March, 1995

Mum,

There is a quiet calm inside of Neville that I find very soothing. He doesn't churn with ire against injustice or burn with the need to understand or revel in the passion of others' lust. He just wants to gently coax things into growing strong. It's a gardener's kind of care.

There are times, Mum, when I dream of kidnapping Neville and taking him to someplace warm and sunny, where we wouldn't have to talk to anyone else or even bother with clothing. Then the reverie ends and I realise that my destiny and sense of responsibility precludes any such idyllic life. I am the most capable person to make the difference that is needed, so it would be acrime to walk away, un-utilised, after preparing myself so diligently. My life will only be quiet when I'm dead.

But it's a nice dream.

The reason I bring it up is that I was reaching for that dream and triggered a nightmare of sorts. Neville and I had a serious talk following my escape from Madame Pomfrey's care, and when I wasn't looking, he cut open my leg and tried to collect a pint of Evans 16-year Single-malt Select Reserve blood-plasma. Newt woke me up to my exsanguination, and Neville was clobbered and dragged down to the Chamber to let the ladies have a look at him.

It seems Mr. Crouch (the lesser) had left instructions for dear Neville during some private tutoring sessions that the lad couldn't remember attending. Bless Hermione and her near-perfect memory, for she had a schedule of half a dozen such sessions he attended. His instructions were to acquire acup or more of my blood, seal it and ship it off to a post box in Birmingham under the name "Mr. E", and then promptly forget the whole enterprise. I can't say how many other students were given similar 'tutoring'during Barty Jr.'s visit, and I'm not certain how you would want to pursue this without causing a panic. I leave the follow-through in your and the Headmaster's capable hands. We are contemplating how to trap a similar package to track it back to the intended source, no doubt to be collected by Wormtail or some other proxy. When we have the operation fully planned, I'll seek your approval for implementation, alright?

Neville felt so horrible that he's decided to keep his distance from now on. There's the bright side, I guess.

Love,

Holly



~[M]~



Holly,

Why did you insist upon handling this on your own? At the first opportunity, collect yourself, Neville, and 'the ladies' and go to Madame Pomfrey. I will bring the Headmaster, and we shall see if Mr. Pink might be available as well.

With love,

Minerva

Postscript: Just to be clear, you should consider yourself 'Blended'; a Single-Malt is brewed with only a single source of flavour for its potency, whereas you are certainly one of the few who can claim to be the opposite.

~[H]~

Mum,

I'm afraid that Neville and I aren't on good speaking terms. You'll just have to collect him up yourself. As to bringing everyone in for aconference, I'd think it would be unkind to delve into Neville's difficulties while he's surrounded by an audience. Do the boy a decent and meet with just him, please? And leave me out of it.

Holly

~[M]~

8th March

Holly,

I alerted Albus to the machinations that led to Mr. Longbottom's ensorcellment. The Headmaster and Professor Moody immediately acted upon your information and tried to fulfill the arrangement using a sample of dragon's blood as substitute. Alastor reported back that once the delivery was received, the drop box summarily ignited. Perhaps if we had used your blood, the trick might have been successful, but we were all of the opinion that the risk was not worth the opportunity.

As to Mr. Longbottom, he is being advised by Professor Sprout, as Professor Moody seemed a poor choice for counselor, and Mr. Longbottom has often expressed an appreciation for our Professor of Herbology as a mentor.

I will be available as much as possible, should you need to discuss anything. As always.

With love,

Minerva

~[H]~

12th March, 1995

Mum,

In case I hadn't mentioned it, Natalia was on assignment for Director Bones during the Second Task. We suspect that the timing was chosen to interfere with my plans; Amelia was watching me quite closely throughout the Task. Anyway, 'Talia stopped by to console me on another brush with death and related mayhem. Now that she's returned to work again, I solemnly swear not to willingly have sex with anyone on Hogwarts grounds when school is in session. It's not actually that hard a vow for me to swear. I'm rather frightened for the side-effects my attentions may have on others. Even Natalia has been having a hard time of things. Perhaps I should endeavour to only have sex with my enemies.

Yeah. My sense of humour isn't working that great now, either.

Aside from avoiding confrontations and regenerating my rather truant blood supply, I have been thinking on the nature of prophecies again. If, as my studies have shown, predictions are leaked to those with the Sight with no specific cultural focus or language in mind, I would think that whatever goblin prophecy has the local clans in an uproar would be accessible to human seers as well. With that in mind, I went to visit with Professor Trelawney. She was more helpful than normal, which I'm sure you'll agree is still far from a ringing endorsement of her teaching credentials.

The Tale of Tangled Talking

Holly enters the thickly fragrant classroom at the top of the ladder, but her hope for a private meeting is dashed when she sees Luna and the Professor together, bent over a luminous crystal ball (Luna often doesn't appear on the Map, a trick we think may relate to her instinctual Notice-Me-Not talent). Their murmurs are barely audible. Holly attempts to sneak up, half-hoping to eavesdrop a little, but Luna turns and smiles at her after only a few steps. She seems sedate, but pleased. Her voice has an airy quality that suits the mood of the room- quite a bit of intoxicating incense hangs in the air.

Luna sways and gestures like an orchestra conductor as she says,"Hhhhello, Hhhholly. You're just... in... time."

Holly coughs from the smoky haze, and then replies, "Of course Iam. I'm visiting with a seer."

"Hah! That was fun... -ny. Sybill has some... thing to say to you."

Holly wrinkles her brow in concern, but turns to face the heavily-spectacled seeress.

Professor Trelawney squints in her direction for a moment, then screeches, "OUT! OUT!"

Luna frowns at the hysterical woman. "No, not that. You were just saying--"

"NO! Never nightly nor noontime! That thaumaturgess threatens thunderous thoughts! All abjure acerbic alabaster abyssal avatars!"

Holly flinches. "Did she just call me a pale-skinned demon?"

Sybill stands up and shuffles towards Holly, weeping slightly and gesturing between them. "I implore. Don't dally dealing doubts, dreams, delusions down decidedly deserved directions. I... feel fortune's fickle flatulence flies fairlessly for fiery femme-friendly fighters." Trelawney seems to growl in frustration for a moment, grasping at her scarf-wrapped head, and then continues. "Seek sensible sources. Adjourn anon and adventure arboreally."

Holly looks doubtful as she turns to Luna. "Anything you'd like to add to that?"

Luna muses, "I think I... hit her in the head too hard."

"Luna! Seriously? Stop that!"

The young girl giggles, shaking her head widely- as if she were swaying in water. "I didn't. I was joking. I was having a hard time remem...-bering to go back after classes to listen to her sentences end, so I decided to counter-curse her... curse-counter cursing... jinx. All that she told me before was that you were commming and that you would ask quest.... -ions she couldn't answer." Luna squints to concentrate. "I thought she meant'incapable of speaking', not 'unwilling to tell', so I tried to hhhhelp. Did Ihelp?"

Holly scowls while giving the Professor (who has taken to mumbling to herself) another doubtful look. "I suppose alliteration is at least easier to understand. I'll let you know."

Mild excitement lights up Luna's face. "Then I get a kiss?"

"Assuming I survive." Holly face contorts in reaction to an accumulation of conflicting aromas.

"Survive?"

"Professor Trelawney was reminding me that I'm nearly two years late in meeting with a centaur in the Forbidden Forest." Holly then sneezes three times in succession.

Luna looks at Holly with sadness, and waves at her as if she were departing on a doomed ship. "Oh. Bye."

The Tale, tightly told, terminates

Don't you start.

So, I am currently sitting in the Forbidden Forest, watching the last of the snow melt, hoping to find the right centaur. If I don't find him today, I'll come back tomorrow. I'm also keeping an eye out for the type of herbs Luna and Trelawney were using in their incense. For research purposes, y'know.

Love,

Holly

~[M]~

Holly,

Even with the faction of goblins who wished you dead summarily executed(and we can only hope that they were all accounted for), I would think you might be more cautious about wandering in the Forbidden Forest! In any case, Ineed you to return. There seems to be a dangerous creature roaming the halls once more. We've found numerous scorch marks and Mrs. Norris won't leave Mr. Filch's chambers anymore.

With love,

Minerva

~[H]~

It's still 12th March

Mum,

I have to advise you-

You'll be happy to know-

Bloody Hell. Come down to Hagrid's and we'll introduce you to Newt's baby brother, Prestwick. He's a purple dwarf dragon. We named him after the airport when he started flying about, colliding with pillars and chandeliers and such.

Unlike his sister, he's about as smart as a dog, and a bit smaller than one as well- like a flying, fire-breathing terrier. Blame Padma and Hermione- they're the mad alchemists this time. I left them alone in the Chamber for a while, and this is what they came up with. I've already read them the riot act.

I've just tentatively given Prestwick to Hagrid to bribe myself back into his good graces, though all I told him was essentially 'Hey, Hagrid! Look what we found!'. Worked like a charm, except Prestwick already roams around the castle if not chained up, and he's also taken to melting the chains, now that his firebreathing is active. What's more, he speaks Parsel about as well as any serpent, so he wanders into (and out of) the Chamber at will, usually looking for food or Hermione (or possibly Crookshanks- they were seen mousing together yesterday). According to Winky, the elves are noticeably upset but too afraid of me to bring it up with the Headmaster.

Anyway, the good news is that Hagrid will let the 'ears of the forest'know that I'm looking for Firenze. It's nice having him talk with me again, even if he won't look me in the eye.

Love,

Holly

~[H]~

17th March

The Tale of Titles and Tutelage

Newt! Enough with the alliteration.

Sorry, Mum.

The Tale of Fences

It is Thursday afternoon, which means that Holly and Professor Burton are attempting to slice each other apart. Since January, their practice has developed into a mixture of melee, instruction, gossip, teasing, and camaraderie. Professor Burton was quite put out when Holly had to miss the one session after the Second Task- I think he's been chafing at the limitations of his half-life for a while now.

Sir Richard advances on Holly with a series of high attacks, followed by a low sweep meant to catch her leg. Holly parries the high attacks but can't bring her blade down fast enough to prevent a cut opening across her shin. She doesn't miss a step for the injury, however, and returns a deflective attack that allows her to shift her position and evaluate the wound's effect.

Her opponent offers some guidance while pushing back against her riposte. "You're keeping your arms too close to the body."

Holly replies, "Moody's been training me to keep my wand close in to my body to mask the motion- that way my opponent won't be able to predict which spell I'm using. I guess the techniques don't mix well."

"I should say not! That's foolish advice- your spellwork will be couched into a smaller arc as defined by the plane of your shoulders- you leave your back exposed." As if to reinforce the point, Sir Richard beats Holly's saber to her left and slices her shoulder. Holly raises her hand to halt their bout and check on her injuries- the cuts are shallow, and already healing closed.

"Huh. You're right- it will. No wonder he has so many scars. What do you normally use as a stance?"

"Miss Evans, I'm not a wizard- I'm just dead! If you wish to learn about wanded warfare, you should approach Master Flitwick."

"Master... you're not treating him like he's underaged are you?He's just short."

"Not at all, my spritely opponent. Master is a title afforded to any with three Masteries recognised by the ICW. A Warlock has four, though usually at least one of those is academic-only. Such titles are mostly honorary, though it permits them to take apprentices and hand out certificates of accredited skill. Our friend Barty is a Warlock, along with the Headmaster."

Holly sets her saber on guard and the Professor salutes her and initiates a new series of attacks. Holly parries each one, jumping to the side to avoid one and only losing a few hairs from the end of her braid on the follow-through. She teases, "Guess I won't be calling you 'Master', then."

"Oh, my darling girl- only once I have you properly bound and blindfolded."

"Keep dreaming, Sir Rickets. So what does a witch get for a title if she reaches four Masteries? 'Warlock' seems a bit too gender-specific."

(Clang! Clash! Whff! K-ting!)

"Miss Evans, don't be ridiculous. The ICW would never recognise awitch for more than two Masteries."

"Why not? They averse to publicly calling someone'Mistress'?"

"No, because each successive Mastery has higher restrictions on the accomplishments required for recognition. Master Flitwick's first Mastery was in Transfiguration, then Charms."

(Shing! Kang! Tink! Ping!)

Burton continues after a breath. "When it came to his duelling Mastery, he was required to keep the Duellists Crown for three years running, afeat not accomplished before or since, and one that took him twelve years in the circuit to complete. Witches don't typically yearn for such accolades."

"Has anyone come close?"

"Holly..." The swordsman stops his advance and moves his blade off-guard, signalling to take a rest. He gives the heavily-breathing witch a meaningful look. "A few have, but they have invariably met sudden, gruesome ends."

Holly lowers her saber. "Oh. Right. Forgot where I lived for amoment, there."

They return to fencing. Burton declares 'full contact'- a flurry of attacks and grapples ends with Holly pinning him to the ground with his arm behind his back and her saber at his throat.

"Will you call me Mistress?"

"Loosen my trousers first, and we'll talk."

"Sorry. I don't do favours for those I defeat."

"Then I shall endeavor to win against you in a formal match, and we'll see what favours I earn!"

"That's really going to motivate me to prevent that, Sir Richard. Thank you."

Holly rises from the floor and gives the old revenant a hand up to standing. He nods in thanks and gives her a wink. "I am striving to be an educator one day."

"Keep trying. You'll get it eventually."

Sir Richard scoffs loudly. "En garde, you scurrilous tease!"

So the tale is told



~Newt~

~[H]~



20th March

Mum,

You asked me afterwards to explain what happened. This really isn't important, but here you go.

The Tale of Hard Choices

Holly is sitting with friends at lunch. Most of them are from the RE-class, aside from Ron and Luna, who are engaged in a debate over why the Chudley Cannons haven't won a season in decades. Luna's theory is that their home pitch is situated within the migratory path of flying Malaclaws. Ron's argument that Malaclaws are lobster-like and don't fly anywhere doesn't seem to be winning the debate.

Two girls approach the table. They are of equal height and similar look, though one (from Ravenclaw) is much thinner than the other (from Hufflepuff). Once standing next to each other, it becomes obvious that the two are identical twins, though they seem to have gone out of their way to defy being treated as such.

Luna pipes up, "Hello, Rhea." The thinner girl nods back, her shoulders slumped. She's standing partly behind the other witch.

Holly looks around her to the Ravenclaw that Luna called Rhea."You shouldn't slouch. It'll give you back trouble, and people will treat you better if you look comfortable with yourself."

Rhea steps back and squares her shoulders, a slight smile emerging as she holds her head higher.

Luna giggles. "That's wonderful advice, Holly. Her cantaloupes really stick out nicely that way."

Rhea blushes and slumps behind her sister again.

Luna whines, "Awww, you've wilted again."

Holly rolls her eyes. "Hush, Luna. Ladies, what brings you to my table?"

Ron scoffs. "Your table?"

"Well, I made it."

He replies, "So you did. Carry on."

The burlier witch steps forward to glare down at Holly. "I'm Ramona. That's Rhea. Last name, Montgomery--"

Holly leans back. "From the World Cup? I thought you looked familiar, and now I see the resemblance. You have my condolences. How are you holding up?"

Ramona growls out, "As well as can be expected for losing our mother and two siblings. Our remaining brother hasn't spoken since. What d'you think?!"

Holly squints at the angered Hufflepuff girl. "Two? The werewolf only killed one."

Rhea pipes up to explain. "Our youngest, our sister Rachel, was bitten. She... we had to-- "

Ramona cuts in, "We lost her in hospital, later. She succumbed to her wounds. So now it's just us, Daddy and Ruby."

Ron snorts once and asks, "Your brother's name is Ruby?"

"It's short for Rubicon. He..." Rhea stops short, noting an unusual quiet.

Holly stares fiercely at the two girls for a minute- the whole table realises that something is awry, but only Luna seems to not be confused by it, though she may have simply not noticed as she is building a replica of the Tournament arena with sandwich parts and a box of Denton's Edible Toothpicks. Finally, Holly stands up and curtly gestures for the two girls to follow her. They exit out of the Great Hall, adjourning to an isolated corner.

"/Muffliato/. Let me get this straight- your family was attacked by a werewolf, I drove it off, your mum and other brother were dead already, yet you let the 'Healers' kill your sister because she was infected?"

Rhea answers, "Well... yes."

"You know there's a potion that mitigates the worst effects of the change, right?"

"Oh, Merlin! Mona, we've offended her; let's just leave it--"

Ramona shakes off Rhea's pull on her arm and points a finger at Holly."No! I'm not letting this stop here. What did you expect us to do? Our family has been cut IN HALF! We barely had enough money to bring the youngers to the Cup- Rhea and I had to stay at home, listening to the wireless. Now, with our Dad grieving and about to lose his job, you expect us to give up our education; our last chance to earn a living for our family? To sacrifice that so that we can take care of a beast that will grow up to be unemployable? Where do you get the nerve?!"

Holly stares between the two sisters in turn. Rhea has returned to pulling desperately on the arm of her sister, who is standing firm and staring her down.

Holly slowly blinks. She looks at the stone floor for a moment, and then turns her gaze back to Ramona's defiant glare. Her response is quiet and measured. "How did she die?"

"What?" Ramona growls.

"Did you turn her over to some one-eyed freak from the Department of Magical Creatures, or did the Healers feed her a silver nitrate milkshake, or what?"

Rhea offers, "The Healer took care of it. He told us that she would feel no pain."

Holly's look softens. "Alright. A bit of advice; don't come near me ever again. I'm a walking catastrophe- the bad luck between us might melt the castle's foundation. What does your dad do?"

Ramona continues to glare, so Rhea pipes up, "H-he's awatchmaker. He makes watches for Tuttle's Timepieces, in Suffolk. We're from Suffolk."

"Einstein would be so jealous. I'd like to commission atimepiece. You will be paid generously."

Ramona bites out, "What for?"

"My watch got mucked in the second task."

"No, I mean--"

"For making a hard choice and not letting yourselves simply be victims. I like seeing girls stand up for themselves. Stay away from me, though. I'll find you." Holly moves to return to the meal.

"We don't want your charity!"

Holly turns back and charges towards them, shoving Ramona against the wall while batting away the witch's wand . She holds her to struggling there, with her forearm against the witch's neck.

"What did you want then? An apology? Protection? Don't mistake me; I'm still not sure what choice I would have made in your position, but I'm bloody impressed that you would take the risk of approaching me, now, for whatever you did want."

Holly releases her hold and steps back. Ramona bends over to cough and rubs the growing bruise above her collar. Once she has a breath, she looks up to glare at Holly.

(Cough!) "Then why are you trying to help? Do you have something even more degrading in mind for us or are you just suffering from a guilty conscience?"

Holly squints at Ramona. "What the hell is your problem?"

Luna walks up and taps Holly on the shoulder.

"What, Luna?"

"Their family owes you a life debt. Several, probably. They want to know what you were going to ask of them. They'd make very comely harem-girls with the right lingerie, but I think their boyfriends might become an issue."

The Montgomery girls blush identically.

Holly shakes her head, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration."I must be tired- it never crossed my mind."

Luna hops next to her and asks, "Do I get a kiss?"

"Yes, but not now. Later."

Luna grins madly and then sprints away with her arms flapping behind her, making a trilling sound to the tune of Chopin's 'Minute Waltz'.

Holly smiles slightly. "Absolutely nutters, she is, but her kisses... you don't care, do you?"

Both girls shake their heads in unison, slightly confused.

"Right, sorry. I have no intention of calling in a debt from your family. I'll send along details for the watch when I can- they'll be delivered by my elf, Winky. Go back to your studies."

Rhea says, "Miss Black--"

"Holly. Call me Holly."

"What... what kind of Dark Lady are you?"

Holly smiles and sighs with fatigue. "The kind that only wants to make the ruling wizards and goblins nervous, 'cause they're the ones that screwed up everything. Witches like you shouldn't be so concerned. In fact, witches like you should be cheering me on, but I'll understand if you don't. Ihaven't really worked out this PR thing."

Ramona looks at her sister and mouths 'Pee-arr?' only to get a shrug for an answer.

Holly turns to leave the conversation only to be collided into by ablond Ravenclaw. Luna wraps her arms around Holly's head and snogs her deeply, a kiss that is reciprocated after a moment's hesitation. Rhea and Ramona stare for a moment, caught up in the raw lust being displayed. Luna breaks the kiss and steps back, breathing heavily.

"I like this game!"

She then returns to her trilling and runs back towards the Ravenclaw tower.

Holly steps a few times in random directions, in a slight daze, before vectoring back into the Great Hall, mumbling to herself, "I s'pose that's'later' enough."

So the tale is told

See- I'm blameless. It had to happen sometime.

I suppose with Rita not publishing any more trash, the public is stuck with their last press-induced impression of me. I notice the Prophet has been notably non-judgmental in its post-Task reporting. Maybe you should let her go one of these days.

Love,

Holly

~[M]~

Holly,

I have resolved to liberate our captured spy sometime after the Third Task. 1998 is looking auspicious. In the meantime, my little pet seems to be surviving well enough on tree bark and Eucalyptus leaves.

With love,

Minerva

~[H]~

1st April, 1995

Mum,

Fair warning: I gave the twins a Map 2.0 for their birthday this morning. I got the original back; I'm keeping it for sentimental value.

Hagrid arranged for me to meet with Firenze- he was available today, so Hermione, Padma and I delayed our departure for the Easter break until tomorrow. I went. I wish I hadn't. This has nothing and everything to do with April Fool's Day.

The Tale of Belated Warnings

Holly is perched on a dried rock, reading through her journal, when Firenze steps into the glade. Though centaurs generally have a prideful bearing, he clearly looks nervous and canters about in the clearing as he speaks, like a... well, like a racehorse anticipating the opening bell.

"Holly Evans. Finally, we meet again. Your adventures since our introduction in the forest have become known to many."

"Hello, Firenze. Hopefully you've been hearing from more reliable sources than Skeeter's book."

"We hear the themes from the stars, and learn the notes from visitors we trust. There are no libraries for us. All that has meaning is spoken, to be discussed and evaluated. I miss that."

"You miss it? Did they punish you or something?"

"My mission to advise you of your trials has put me at odds with my brothers, Bane and Ronan. I am not invited to their fires."

"Well, let's not keep you away any longer. I'm sorry for that, by the by. I didn't realise--"

"My choices are not your burden. You have enough of those to bear for yourself, with more to come."

"That doesn't sound good." Holly steps forward to face the centaur, her hands clasped behind her back. "Alright. Tell me what the stars say."

Firenze turns up his gaze towards the sky and declares, "A comet approaches; passing into the umbra of Jupiter, it cannot be seen. By summer's solstice, its path will intersect with Jupiter."

He turns back to look at Holly. She blinks a few times.

"Is that what you've been trying to tell me? For two years?"

"No. The warnings I have carried for you are nearly meaningless, now. I would have told you that killing a friend has consequences you cannot imagine. I would have told you that the time of Imbolc would be your bane for years to come. I would have told you that an approaching storm would test your strongest beliefs, and to hold true to your love. I would have told you not to protect your enemies. Now, I only have one last warning, for you are nearly impossible to see in the night sky, unless one looks for that which is absent."

"Imbolc- that's around Groundhog Day, isn't it? Figures- I might have slept in instead of getting ambushed if I'd known that. So, what's the last warning?"

"Forgive those who kill your child. No other warning I give you will ever mean as much as this. When your child is murdered, you must forgive those who do so."

Holly's jaw drops and she scoffs loudly, setting Firenze to canter about nervously. "How do you get that from stargazing?! Besides, Imurdered my daughter, and I've already forgiven myself, more or less."

"This child is yet unborn. Its fate is tied to that of the world entire. What I see is a fragment of the comet that will split away. It will fall into the orbit of Mars, and be destroyed. If you turn to accompany it, this world or the moon will become the comet's destination, and most likely lead to our destruction. Turn away from the pull of vengeance, and the arc of your path will continue, possibly into a stable orbit- you may become a feature of our sky for aeons to come. And yet, I am uncertain how important even this warning is, now."

"Why's that?"

"Your fate's path crosses another. A turning point approaches that may invalidate all that is predicted to come. Jupiter's influence may catch hold."

Holly scowls up at him. "I didn't think the stars were so unpredictable."

"Comets have a way of changing the starscape."

"I was about to ask why you think I'm the comet, but that fits too well. Firenze, I am becoming very displeased with Divination on the whole."

The centaur snorts, replying, "The stars do not care."

"Yeah, so they can't possibly be offended if I wish them a big old 'fuck ya', can they?"

Or so that tale is told

Firenze thought it was funny. We had a moment of understanding for our lonely fates before I returned to the castle and he returned to the forest. He's a herd of one, right now. There's no guarantee that the others will take him back after being away for so long.

This is all making me nervous, and what's worse is that I've gained nothing in terms of understanding the threat I pose to the goblins. Also, lurking out in the forest has given me a chill. My health just hasn't bounced back from the goblin poison like I would have wanted.

Love,

Holly

~[H]~



9th April, 1995

Mum,

Hope your Easter break was fun. I have news. First, Hermione, Natalia, Padma and I found out why there's a hatch over the concrete pipe in the Madhouse- when a Time Turner burns out, it does so quite dramatically. Padma will be returning the remains of our faithful device to you very soon, no doubt. Believe me, I'm more sorry about that than probably any of us.

Second, I've called an end to the alchemy experiments. And third, Prestwick is being permanently fostered to Hagrid, who couldn't be more pleased if he had birthed the drake himself. (Eeyeuugh! Sorry- that was a nasty thought.)

My last 'child' was hatched a few hours ago as a full-grown Couatl. He was already speaking, much to my displeasure.

The Tale of the Other Brother

Following a mostly enjoyable week together in the Madhouse, Holly, Natalia, Hermione and Padma have convened in the Chamber around a vat of Incubation Bath that contains the most recent attempt to brew another me. Hermione and Padma switch off taking samples of the potion and casting diagnostic charms, as their calculations indicate that the egg (which has matured to the size of a well-fed goose) is likely to hatch at any minute.

Holly is in a sour mood. She is trying to give fair enthusiasm for the girls' attempts to add to our family but her attitude has been growing steadily worse as everyone else's has improved over the break. She leans back with her arms crossed, resting in Natalia's arms (and legs- Natalia is sitting on aworktable and has wrapped all her limbs around Holly in an attempt to brighten her foul temper).

Hermione and Padma lock gazes in a startled reaction to their brew beginning to glow. They step back as Holly and Natalia lean forward in anticipation. The glow grows brighter, and the egg begins to rise out of the Bath, floating up until it hangs, dripping thick fluid, about a yard above everyone's heads.

Holly pulls out her wand, but Natalia puts a reassuring hand on her forearm. Warmth fills the room along with the glow, and all within are bathed in a feeling of caring and affection. Just then, the egg cracks open and falls back into the Bath, leaving a pulsing glob of sunlight still hanging there. The shape flashes brightly. What emerges from the incandescence is a feathered snake that floats on the aether. It turns several times within the air, its thin tongue sniffing the atmosphere and new eyes blinking to clear its vision.

The Couatl spins a few more times in the air and then speaks softly, but in a deep, male voice.

"Thank you for my life. I will not need a name, for I go to join the Symphony's choir. I have a few things to say."

It stares at Hermione. "Hermione Granger. You are the rudder. Without you, they will drift into danger."

"W-what do you mean?"

It replies, "Exactly what I said," and then turns to the next witch in line. "Padma Patil. Don't deceive yourself. You stopped observing long ago."

Padma turns away, but she is nodding her head in agreement.

A few twists in the air and the feathered serpent looks down upon me."Newt Evans, my sister. A mother is one who listens and cares. Find one and you will become one."

(Squeak?)

"Natalia Tonks. It's probably pointless to say to you, but... love endures, love heals, love triumphs- especially in adversity."

Natalia grins and replies, "Of course it does!"

The glowing serpent twists to face Holly directly. "All that remains for you, mother, is the one choice. Life or death. Everything hinges upon the choices that you make, but they are all the same choice. Life or death."

Holly steps forward out of Natalia's embrace, snapping out of the reverie induced by the Couatl's aura. She yells, "Damnit! You think Idon't know that? What about afterwards? What about the goblins? Why do they call me the 'burning dark girl'? What happens if-- "

"Nothing exists for you beyond this choice, Mother. Choose, and all will follow from the selection. The corrupt ones will not interfere."

"Well, that's vague and useless."

The Couatl spins about, its feathered tail swinging wide to slap Holly in the forehead.

"Ow!"

"You're welcome, and I love you, too. Oh, one other thing."

Holly rubs the rising welt above her brow distractedly."Yeah?"

"Don't blame Prestwick for being himself."

The feathered serpent coils tightly, becoming like a blinding fire that then bursts into nothingness. A few ashes float to the ground in its wake.

Hermione looks at Holly in confusion. "What was that about, do you suppose?"

Natalia's exclamation draws their attention to the shelves of ingredients. "Prestwick, you shit! Get your snout out of those jars!"

(Slurp, munch) "Errh?"

Holly draws out Gryffindor's blade and rushes towards the pseudo-dragon, but the other witches grab ahold of her, restraining her angry charge.

Natalia holds her back with arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She yells, "HOLS! The thing just said 'Forgive Prestwick!' Choose life!"

Holly rages, "Who gives a fuck? He's part of the Symphony- what makes you think he cares? Let GO of me!"

"Not happenin', sweetie!"

Hermione pulls on her shoulder. "No!"

Padma tries to grab hold of the blade's pommel. "No, Holly!"

With a yell, Holly tosses the blade above the heads of her friends who are trying to tackle her, but it falls with a clatter onto a side table. Holly roars in frustration and then twists away from the group.

Hermione offers, "Holly, maybe... maybe this is a sign."

"Yes. It's a sign. 'Free to a good home- one dwarf dragon, partially housebroken.'"

Said dragon lets out a loud 'Burrrp!' and queries in Parseltongue,"~Crunchy, gooey, tasty! More?~"

It's all for the best, I'm sure

No more eggs = no more experiments. Happy, now?

Love,

Holly

~[M]~



Holly,

I honestly do not know what to say. I am relieved to know that your alchemy experiments have concluded, though I'm fairly certain you agreed to that over a year ago. The loss of your other eggs also generates mixed emotions. I suppose the one thing that I would like to convey is that you have my sympathies, and my concerns.

These warnings from 'the Symphony' do not seem to grant you much insight towards your situation. I can only hope that whatever may be coming to test you on the solstice will not lead to tragedy. I am looking forward to the end of this contest with much anxiety, and will count all our lucky stars when June 25th arrives and this foolishness is completed.

Prepare yourself diligently, as I have seen you doing so much of late, and do not concern yourself with winning strategies. I want only for you to concentrate on surviving this contest. Choose life, as it were.

With love,

Minerva

~[H]~



11th April, 1995

Mum,

We've been back from Easter break a whole two days and I have been ordered to leave the castle for the next few weeks, in order to protect the other students. The purebloods finally tagged me with a parasite. Pomfrey ordered me into quarantine until I recover, and I'd rather do that in the Madhouse where I don't need to fend off my Housemates or vulnerable well-wishers like Hermione, or yourself I suppose. Plus I can hang about in my jammies.

While I'm gone, we can both ponder this: Professor Trelawney approached me on my way to hospital. She said, "Apologies; afrit's advent approaches. Summer solstice surely saddens, seals simple selection, secures sunrise, sunset, stalemate. Enemy's encounter enables end. Catastrophe, calamity crescendos cruelly. Live, love; lose. Deliver death, die; deals draw. Fortune favours faithful followers."

I'm afraid my reply was less than cordial.

"Fuck fate."

I think I may have been a little abrupt due to feeling ill.

Love,

Holly

~[M]~

Holly,

At least that explains Professor Trelawney's rather odd visit to my office. She said, "Your youth yells! Such silly statements support Symphony's selection, so suitable suffering shall sting slutty sorceresses! Willful wench."

I imagine you would appreciate my response.

"Professor... my time of not taking you seriously has most definitely come to a middle."*

In other matters, both Albus and Alastor have complained that my releasing you to return to isolation has broken the terms of the wager you lost about keeping your identity secret from Professor Moody for any length of time. I assured them that their wager was equally important in my eyes as my assessment of Professor Trelawney's skills as an educator.

As a responsible parent, it is my duty to remind you that you have OWL exams coming very soon. If you accomplish nothing else during your isolation, Irecommend you continue revising.

Take care, and let me know if there is anything you need during your convalescence.

With love,

Minerva

~[M]~

5th May, 1995

Miss Holly Evans,

I had the most revelatory conversation with Madame Pomfrey a half hour ago. I asked her if she was sure you would recover well from your parasitic infestation, and she burst out laughing.

To my knowledge, Poppy Pomfrey hasn't laughed in twenty-three years.

She replied, "Only Miss Evans would refer to it that way."

I asked, "Refer to what, what way?"

Her face fell when she realised that I was not 'in on the joke'.

After a moment's caution for privacy's sake, she explained your true situation. "Minerva, I would have thought she'd told you! Holly is pregnant. I shoo'd her out of the school so that she could take the time to come to a decision, not to mention avoiding the unfortunate tendency for witches to become pregnant in batches, like a spreading infection. If she chooses to... commit to the process, I will insist that the father be notified by the end of the first trimester."

As you spent the Easter break with your friends, accelerated, I assume that date is drawing nigh. I would like to know how the decision-making process is going. I'd also like to know who we shall be notifying, particularly if this will require the involvement of foreign ministers. I would like to know this, immediately.

With love,

Minerva

~[H]~

Mum,

Doesn't matter. I'll be back on Monday.

Holly



~

Tangent Alert: 9504 - Family Business

Hermione and Padma experiment with child-brewing, while Holly deals with some other (French) fallout from the Second Task. Funny and squicky, with alittle smuttiness thrown in as well.

* Fair acknowledgment: Minerva's answer to Trelawney ('the time of my not taking you seriously has most definitely come to a middle') was ripped straight from the Firefly episode "Our Mrs. Reynolds". If you don't recognize it, go watch the series. Then watch it again, because it's just that much fun. There's even a movie.