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



Holly Polter


Chapter: Complicated


Securing a room at the Leaky Cauldron for a week took only a few minutes, after which they headed into Diagon Alley.

Holly sent Harry off to the bank so they would have more than pocket change to fuel their day. When Harry asked why Holly wasn't going with him, she said, "You don't need me there, and goblins... you might say I have an allergy. Enjoy the cart ride for both of us, eh?"

While waiting, Holly took a seat at a cafe table outside Florean's ice cream shop.

Why am I trying to seduce him? I mean, of course in my bizarro experience he's just another sexual being and he certainly could use the emotional support and encouragement of a proper rogering. And, he's been through his own trials without my help. I don't see him needing a mother figure, so why confuse things, right? What he could really use is a mentor. Someone to show him the ropes... and maybe the paddles.

Oh, Harry. That scar is a ticking bomb in your head. I know what it means to be saddled with a short lifespan. Then again, with Riddle on the rise no one is guaranteed to survive the next few years.

What I saw in your defenseless head is that you've been very alone for a long time, even with your few friends at Hogwarts. If I can teach you anything, it will be Natalia's lesson to me: It isn't enough to survive; you have to learn to live, and make your life worth protecting when it's threatened.

"Tuppence for your thoughts?" interrupted a familiar voice.

Holly turned a smile his way and teased, "Mr. Fortescue! Trolling for prey are we?"

The man in tan and purple robes stood up straight and looked at Holly with suspicion. "I'm sorry; have we met?"

Holly winced for not treating him as a stranger. She stood up and shook his hand. "No, I'm sure I'd remember it. I'm Holly. Is it a problem if I sit here awhile?"

The man relaxed, then sidled around to offer Holly a chair and sit down with her.

"No problem at all, but I'd enjoy it if you'd satisfy an old man's curiosity."

"You're not so old, and I'm not sure if I can satisfy you, though I'll try."

"Thank you, my dear." He gave her another careful look and then asked, "What is it that you want from my friend, Mr. Potter?"

"Your friend?"

"He spent a long month at my tables a few years back. I found him to be an alert and utterly decent boy, so you'll have to forgive me if I'm a bit protective."

"Understood. I will assure you, then, that I only wish what's best for Harry, and I intend to help him however I can."

"Do you promise?"

"I don't have to-- you are protective, aren't you?"

"And you are a deceitful woman. You have that cunning look about you. If you truly mean to aid Harry Potter, swear to me that you will tell him the truth."

Holly shuddered- this wasn't an idle request. This version of Florean was just as astute as her own, but clearly on the side of angels in this case. She wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or impressed. She replied, "I so swear."

"You do?"

"I swear it."

"Once more- will you tell Harry the truth?"

"I swear that I will tell Harry the truth... and God help me when he hears it."

"That's three times you swore. Remember that." Florean stood up from the table and headed back to his shop without a backward glance.

"That was weird."

"Tuppence for your thoughts?" Harry interjected.

"Still weirded. I mean... I was just thinking about what to do with the rest of our day." Holly stood up from the table, grabbed Harry by the hand and started strolling towards the nearby shops.

"Oh. What have you decided?"

"That since you're buying, you get to choose. Did you get us some pound notes as well?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Let's go waste 'em on pizza and comic books." She then vectored toward the Leaky Cauldron.

"But Holly- didn't you want to get some clothes?"

Holly stopped and turned around, grinning up at him.

"What?"

"You've fallen into my wily trap- we're going to the clothing store, at your suggestion! Mwah hah hah hah hah haaaaaaahh!"

Harry laughed at her mad cackle and they headed to Madame Malkins.

oOo

What Harry assumed would be a quick stop to grab a single suitable outfit turned into three hours of sampling styles and much parading for his evaluation. Harry might have grown impatient with the process, except Holly had a tendency to doff one outfit to try on another without bothering with a trip to the dressing booths. Madam Malkin was often busy tailoring someone's new school robes, so they were mostly left alone with the rack garments, but it was still a nerve-wracking habit of hers that kept Harry busy checking for hidden voyeurs.

Holly also was particular about explaining why a piece of clothing was or wasn't flattering, emphasizing how much leg was revealed with the right twirl or how a loose sleeveless blouse might be almost as bad as wearing nothing at all if one didn't layer a tighter undershirt beneath.

She settled on a final kit to wear for the day; a white button-up shirt, a rough-spun linen skirt, riding boots and an outback hat that Holly had discovered in the consignment section. The outfit reminded Harry of old pictures of big-game hunters in Africa, which seemed strangely appropriate- all she was missing was an elephant gun.

Harry had somehow also accumulated a pile of clothes to buy- trousers, shirts, binders and a pair of leather shoes, all with styles that hearkened from the time of the second world war. Not exactly fashionable for 1995, but not likely to draw the attention of muggles for their incongruity.

After he'd paid for their selections, Holly put his work robe on again, despite the warm weather. At his curious look, she explained, "As limited as the fashion choices are here, they are trustworthy. Only handmade clothes like these have the substance to carry enchantments. They don't come pre-enchanted, though- that's what Madam Malkin does in her tailoring. You may not have realised it but this first robe of yours is protected from acids, fire, unravelling jinxes and it maintains a moderate temperature when you have it properly buttoned and clasped."

"It does? No wonder the Slytherins always wear robes."

"Same applies to hats. Those silly black cones every Firstie has to buy will deflect toxic splashes and reduce explosions to a survivable charring of eyebrows." Holly cupped her hand on his cheek. "Later I'll show you how to add charms to your other clothes using runes. We'll need some sewing supplies."

"You're going to teach me to sew?"

"Only if you're man enough."

"I didn't take Ancient Runes."

"You wouldn't have to have- Ancient Runes explains how enchantment has evolved. Modern runes are taught in NEWT level Charms, though you could probably start using them in second year if you have the references... and the tools."

Holly collected an odd assortment of knick knacks and trinkets from several shops, all of which disappeared into the pockets of Harry's old robe or the hiker's satchel Holly had selected to carry their new clothes. Eventually Harry cried mercy and insisted that they recover strength lost to shopping with ice cream at Fortescue's.

Once he'd inhaled a brilliant bowl of Everyberry Burst, Harry returned to the topic of Holly's identity.

"I can't tell people that you're my wand, or my fairy godmother or my evil twin from a mirror. We have to give them something they'll believe."

Holly seemed distracted for a moment as she gazed around the patio, briefly locking eyes with the owner, Mr. Fortescue. She then gave Harry a strange look- almost vulnerable.

"Alright. Seeing as I'm widowed, I'll go back to using my maiden name- Holly Evans. Around here, that would make me your aunt or cousin, if we say we're related at all."

"I'd rather think of you as my godmother's cousin's... neighbor."

"Still thinking about what I wasn't wearing under your robes?"

Harry blushed but he didn't seize up this time, instead giving Holly an eager grin.

"Harry, I know you haven't had a good time of it, family-wise. I hate to spring this on you, but it seems like being honest with you above all else is the right path."

Harry's grin faded. "Okay," he said, followed by a gulp. "What's the truth?"

"Wand handy?"

Harry held up his instrument.

"Incant 'muffliato', while making a slow circle with the tip. The wider the circle, the wider the effect. This will make it harder for people to eavesdrop, the more they try to do so."

Harry followed the instruction and felt a bubble form around them that extended a few feet beyond their table.

"Well done," Holly said. Again, Harry couldn't keep from smiling at her approval.

"Alright then. Effectively, I am... your aunt. Your mother sacrificed her life to protect you, right? Well, I sacrificed my life and soul to protect a different you, and he and I ended up merged, which is why you and I look similar. So really--"

"You're my mother!"

"I'm not!" she protested, then recanted, "but yes; I started out as Lily Evans."

Harry slumped in his seat. Eventually he mumbled, "Why'd you tease me then? You acted like you wanted to... to make out, or..."

Holly took a long and dramatic sigh, and then explained, "I'm a far, far cry, following a dozen harsh pathways, from the woman who was your mother. Along that long way I've chosen to ignore any rule that didn't need to be observed for real, practical purposes. You and I are just from similar lives. At the very basic, I am a woman and you are a young man and that is all. What we make of this relationship is entirely up to our own preferences and tolerances. I am not your mother, even if my son Harry bore a strong resemblance to you when you both were a year old. I can't even remember my life with James Potter or the years before it, except as observations from a Pensieve. Does any of this tangled folderol of a family tree between us get in the way of you wanting to have sex with me?"

"I-- what?"

"Well, you seemed so disappointed to hear I'm not just a figment of your hormone-charged imagination. Do you want to have sex with me? Answer me honestly, Harry; I won't think poorly of you either way."

Harry stared into her deep green eyes. "Y-yes."

Holly smiled. She then added, "On the table? Or would you prefer--"

"Holly! Just what sort of aunt are you?"

"The Rosalind Russell/Auntie Mame kind. Her motto was, 'Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death!' I feel a kinship to this notion, you lucky, plucky, little... ducky."

They shared a silent gaze.

Holly cleared her throat and said, "I take it that this would be a first-time thing."

"Yeah." Harry felt his blush return- he was hoping for that to stop happening soon.

"How far have you gone before now?"

"Honestly, Holly! You ask like you're about to give me The Talk."

"I'm asking because I'd ask the same thing of any young man I was thinking of taking into my bed. I need to know what to expect and how much I'll need to explain. And unlike any other version of The Talk you've received or heard about, this lesson will include a lab portion." She stood up from the table and offered him her hand. "Let's go."

He stood as well but found he couldn't quite believe he should move in any direction. "Holly, wait. Are you-- ? We're really going to... to..."

"Fortune favours the bold. This offer will self-destruct in fifteen--"

"I haven't kissed a girl yet," he blurted.

This gained the attention of several passersby- evidently his spell had lapsed when they stood up. Harry stepped away from the table and carefully pushed in his chair, trying to act as if nothing had happened. When he looked up, the strangers had continued on their way, but Holly was still holding her hand out to him.

"You will," she said, and wiggled her fingers to reinforce the offer.

Harry waited for a taunting grin. When one didn't appear, he took her hand and followed her.