Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1727183.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Multi, F/F
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Lily_Evans_Potter, Lily_Evans_Potter/Ginny_Weasley, Katie
      Bell/Harry_Potter, Cho_Chang/Harry_Potter, Harry_Potter/Original_Female
      Character(s)
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Lily_Evans_Potter, Ginny_Weasley, Katie_Bell, Cho_Chang,
      Sirius_Black, Hermione_Granger, Albus_Dumbledore
  Additional Tags:
      Bisexual_Female_Character, Mythical_Beings_&_Creatures, Female_Harry,
      Mentor/Protégé, Hogwarts_Fifth_Year, Magical_Realism
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-02 Updated: 2018-02-26 Chapters: 17/? Words: 147086
****** Holly Polter ******
by wordhammer
Summary
     Pre-5th year, Harry is visited by a woman claiming to be his magical
     Aunt Holly, except that she can't cast spells... or keep her hands
     off of him... or stay out of trouble. Holly plans to teach Harry the
     true power of having a Destiny, or die trying.
Notes
     If you've never heard of Holly Evans, here's the short version: In
     another world, Lily's protection went further, merging Lily with her
     son Harry to make Holly, except that she forgot everything Lily knew
     and had to grow up in Harry's place. This was her first step on the
     road to becoming a Dark Lady in her own right. The second step was
     shattering the Philosopher's Stone. The third probably was falling in
     love with a quite heterosexual Hermione Granger. Somewhere around
     step 37, Holly Marked Nymphadora Tonks as her vassal, using a Spiral
     Mark derived from Riddle's Dark Mark. Between Tonks' shapeshifting
     and Holly's need for frequent orgasms to keep Riddle's splinter of
     soul in her head at bay, Holly became quite adventurous, sexually
     speaking.
  This work was inspired by
      Holly_Evans_and_the_Spiral_Path by wordhammer
***** Arrival *****
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
 Summary: Pre-5th year, Harry is visited by a woman claiming to be his magical
Aunt Holly, except that she can't cast spells... or keep her hands off of
him... or stay out of trouble. Not just naughty- it's knotty (as in 'subject to
entanglement').
 Explanation of intent: A while back I created a Girl!Harry story called Holly
Evans and the Spiral Path. It started as an attempt to turn all sorts of
fanfiction tropes on their heads, take a few stabs at canon, and maybe explore
some sex stuff while not degenerating into 'fucking for the fuck of it' porn-
erotica. Before I got too far into it, I decided to take it seriously, and
really explore how a hero can be corrupted by their choices, particularly when
Dark Magic (TM) is involved. Despite its many flaws, I think it turned out
great, but many readers have said that they found the story to be a harsh and
brutal thing- a difficult read. "Where's the fun in that?" they'd ask.
 Rather than go off explaining the merits of tragedy and catharsis, I figure
it's about time to let Holly romp around and fuck for the sake of fucking.
After all, she is my Ms. Hyde, my Id monster, my Tyler Durden. And what better
place for Holly to satisfy her (or my) cravings than the canon world of Harry
Potter? There will be drama, comedy, mystery, adventure, a bit of horror and
angst, but overall this is a smutfic. One that I'll probably take too
seriously. Enjoy.
 
 Prologue:'Well, shit,' thought Holly, 'I've been decapitated. Didn't see that
com--.' 
                               Chapter: Arrival
 
 Awareness gathers like mist collecting in a valley. A vague presence coalesces
into an identity, which desires form. The thumping pulse of continuity's
audience listens and responds, as it is compelled to when it hears so lucid a
request. A template is found, relevant to the voice and gratifying to the
audience in echoing the themes that it remembers hearing in another thread of
time-place-texture. And God mused, 'This ought to be fun...'
  Holly awoke in darkness to the chirping of crickets and the hum of air
conditioner compressors. The night air was hot and dense with humidity. She
felt groggy, a bit soggy and if she wasn't mistaken there were lawn clippings
sticking to her bare skin. She sat up and took stock, flicking her fingers out
to dislodge some of the grass from her limbs.
  Somehow I expected my postmortem destination to be more painful. And drier.
  The flicker of streetlamps threw shadows into the garden where she sat. Holly
looked around for a landmark, a sign or some other indicator of her location.
For her, there were too many; the rusted tools tucked into a bucket behind the
rubbish bins, the polished garden bench, the double locks on the shed, the
plots of flowers and ornamental grasses arranged just so... she knew this
garden as if she had tilled and planted it herself.
  I'm back at Privet Drive. Perhaps thisisHell, after all.
  With nothing better to guide her, Holly chose to enter the house- if this was
a nightmare scenario, there'd be no point in trying a different house to look
for clothes and a towel. If it wasn't, this was the best place to begin finding
where things stood, and perhaps arm herself as well. No sense being stupid
about it- 'in trouble' was for her a chronic condition.
  The lock on the mudroom door yielded to a small burst of mechanism magic from
a touch of her hand. Her fingertips lit up in the invoking, also sparking her
curiosity. They looked and felt wrong, but she couldn't quite recall what the
difference should be.
  She stepped into the kitchen and turned on the light. Inspecting her body in
the fluorescence, she also noted a lack of any scars or trophies on her flesh,
and that she was seeing this with both eyes, equally myopic. Feeling around her
face, she found the faint impression of the scar on her forehead, otherwise
healed. Her hair had grown out past her shoulders. Pulling some into view, she
saw that it was straight and raven black which felt normal, though she was also
expecting it to be a dark red. She shook out the damp strands, combing away
some blades of grass and then taking a few minutes to braid it out of her way.
Out of an old habit, she collected every flake of grass that had fallen onto
the linoleum and binned them.
  With care to be quiet, she riffled through the kitchen drawers, retrieving an
elastic to tie up her braid and a towel to dry off and wipe her body clean. She
also selected a stiff paring knife to keep handy and then made her way forward
into the hall.
  The cupboard under the stairs was sealed with a padlock. Again, she
encouraged the lock to remember being unhinged (perhaps a bit as she felt) and
then pulled the door open. Stowed amidst the hoover and cleaning supplies was a
Hogwart's-style trunk with the initials HJP above the latch, lettered in gold
paint. This opened with just a twist of the paring knife and she peered inside,
her hands trembling more than she expected as she lifted the lid.
  She pulled out and donned a work robe, then rooted through the other trunk
contents. The thing was a mess with broken quills, uncorked empty inkwells and
various loose pages of homework mixed amongst the more pertinent materials-
standard textbooks through year 4, a potions kit, size 2 cauldron and such. A
glance at a page of homework showed the author as Harry Potter.
  How does that work? If I'm dead, why would Harry be here separate from me? If
I'm not dead... where the hell am I and why am I here? It all feels too real,
like I'm visiting Denmark where an identical young boy is living a similar
life. Does every country get a Harry or only members of NATO? How egalitarian-
therefore impossible. Okay, focus, Hols. The trunk is close to the door,
recently stowed. Does that mean some version of Harry is up there? One way to
find out...
  Holly packed everything back into the luggage and closed things up to appear
undisturbed. Her trek to the second floor included skipping past the squeaky
bottom step and taking a brief glance into the Dursley's bedrooms, where her
presence continued to be undetected by the snoring occupants.
 She took note of the catflap at the bottom of Harry's door, as well as the
multiple bolts and latches.
 At least they're not locked. Perhaps Harry has been behaving of late.
 Holly stole into the room, closed the door and turned around. Her breath
caught in her throat, and she felt tears sting her cheeks.
 On the other side of Harry's bed, a beautiful white owl stood in the frame of
the window, staring back at her.
 Oh, God help me, the last time I saw you alive was right before you were shot
to pieces.
 Holly nearly leaped across the room but she restrained herself and approached
the wary bird with tender surety. Extending a hand forward, she earned an
evaluative nip from the bird's beak, followed by a side shuffle towards her and
a nudge of the owl's forehead.
 Taking a moment to calm her crying, she searched through her borrowed robe,
mumbling, "Fifty pockets in these damned things and you know I won't find an
owl treat until the forty-ninth- A-ha!"
 Offering the square biscuit to the owl, Holly was pleased to be allowed to
feed and then pet the familiar bird. "Are you called Hedwig?" she whispered.
 The owl coughed and chirped in a way that Holly translated as, 'Of course I
am. Why aren't you scratching between my shoulders, silly witch?' A shift in
Holly's ruffling and Hedwig gurgled with pleasure.
 It took Holly almost an hour before she would let Hedwig be. She opened the
window wide to let the owl hunt, watching her fly into the darkness. Only after
drying more tears on the cuffs of the robe did she turn to give the sleeping
Harry a closer look.
 My alter ego... strangest thing is that for all that you look exactly as I did
before the road trip, it's reversed. I always saw that face in a mirror.
 His wand was cradled in his hand beneath the pillow, but it only took blowing
on his eyelashes to get Harry to turn over, leaving the wand behind. Holly
extracted it and took a grip. She calmed her mind and extended her senses
toward the instrument.
 Nothing. Not the warmth of recognition nor the buzz like a bad match might
make. This wand can't hear me at all. 'Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice.'
 She leaned over the young man, letting her fingers hover over the lightning-
bolt scar on his forehead. When she touched the scar, a flash of rage shot
through her, familiar enough even though she hadn't felt that flavour of
hatefulness for a while.
 Not as strong, but just as dangerous. This is a problem. I only hope I didn't
just send a telegram to Riddle that he has another nemesis to contend with.
Then again, maybe he doesn't.
 Noting the time on Harry's wind-up alarm clock as half three, Holly borrowed
his glasses from the bedstand and then set to reading through the issues of
Daily Prophet that he'd collected in the past few weeks.
 The Tri-Wizard tournament was held, but only four competitors... Cedric died
here as well, but so did Crouch-the-elder. I see Minister Fudge is denying
anything untoward, while Albus puts the onus of truth onto Harry's statement of
what happened in the graveyard. Oh my poor boy. I hope you weren't tortured the
way I was. Let's see- thanks to Rita's brethren, Harry is their favorite
running joke and Albus has once again successfully disarmed himself in the
political arena. Prat.
 Lily is just dead here instead of merged, so I guess this, essentially, is
what would've happened if I'd walked into the protective sacrifice without
trickery. Is this Your plan, O Lord; to show me the error of my ways, the
consequences of my hubris? If so, why give me substance? Even Dickens knew how
to conserve resources and still teach Scrooge the lesson.
 Well, since You gave me this vehicle, I shall be taking it for a ride. Now,
where to go with it?
 I should help Harry just as a family thing- he's the only one here that I can
say matters to me. His soul scar is the problem. Because it's there, Riddle is
still around. Harry will need to be strong-willed to win against him- skills
and tricks won't do it, and the Prophet's character assassination is treating
him like a child, so he must not have a lot of influence. He isn't a leader.
Yet.
 I suppose the best way to help him is to guide him towards being awesome. You
can't gift people with ego- it comes from living through experiences and
learning the best lessons from them. It's a tough needle to thread, and how to
do so depends on Harry and what he's endured so far.
 As with anything, first we gather information and then we figure out what it
means.
 Holly continued to read until dawn approached. By then, Hedwig had returned
from hunting to settle into her cage... and Harry started thrashing around in
the grips of a nightmare.
 Returning Harry's glasses to the bedside table, Holly then propped his alarm
clock to balance on the headboard above him, leaning against the wall. She tip-
toed over and perched on his desk. Within a minute, Harry's nightmare struggles
dislodged the clock to drop onto his head with a painful 'clank'.
Showtime.
 
***** Bedroom *****
Chapter Summary
     Wakey, wakey, Harry
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: Bedroom
 
 Nightmares were becoming too common for Harry this summer.
 He awoke with a start. Early morning light from the window reflected off the
metal alarm clock that had landed next to his head- no doubt what woke him.
Thank Merlin for that; he'd been stuck in a particularly nasty nightmare. A
basilisk had been chasing him through the Tournament maze until it had tripped
him, though it chose to attack Cedric who had fallen next to him. The great
snake swallowed the other competitor up to the waist, and then the pair merged,
transforming into Voldemort's moon-white upper half with a giant snake body.
Voldemort's maw opened impossibly wide to reveal sabre-sized hollow fangs
dripping with black ichor. He launched at Harry, and just as the fangs should
have punctured his body was when the real-world had bounced a clock off his
brow.
 Harry sat up and squinted to scan his room, gratified to find no Demented-
Hufflepuff-Serpent Lords trying to strangle or consume him. There was only the
lumpy bed, his bedstand, the chipped dresser, his plain and rickety desk, a
girl, Hedwig's cage, the tatty rug covering the loose floorboard--
 He scrambled to don his glasses only to find that he wasn't mistaken; a dark-
haired girl wearing a black Hogwarts robe was sitting indian-style on his desk.
As such, he noticed that her legs and feet were bare before he'd bothered
trying to identify her. All for the best, as she looked entirely too familiar.
It was like looking at a distorted reflection- his own green eyes in a similar
face stared back at him, skin as pale and nose as narrow. The girl had wider,
full lips, wore no glasses (though she was squinting at him) and her long black
hair was tied in a braid leaving the fringe in front to cover her forehead, but
otherwise the resemblance was obvious.
 "I borrowed a robe," she whispered, "hope you don't mind."
 "Mind? Of course I mind!" Harry barked. "Who are you and what are you doing in
my room? And why do you look like me? What kind of twisted trick is this?"
 "I'd keep the shouting to a minimum, Harry."
 "What are you talking about? Who are you?"
 "Why, I'm your fairy godmother, of course!" the girl taunted. "Even if you
doubt that obvious fib, I'd still say that yelling is only going to make your
life worse as soon as the Dursleys--"
 At which point Vernon Dursley burst through the door. His beady eyes darted
about, no doubt looking for the most obvious reason to punish Harry and in this
case he found a really good one. "What in heaven's name-- HOW DARE YOU BRING A
GIRL INTO THIS HOUSE!" he roared.
 The girl flinched at the noise and then slid down from her perch on Harry's
desk to stand directly in front of the large man. Shorter even than Harry, she
was outmassed by his Uncle Vernon by a frightening margin, yet she stood there
looking up at the man as if he were barely an annoyance. Harry was briefly
distracted trying to decide whether David or Jonah was the more fitting
biblical analogue.
 "He didn't bring me in," the girl declared to Harry's uncle, "I broke in,
stole his robe and then woke him up when I saw he was having a nightmare. And
I'm not just referring to his life here when I say that."
 Harry wasn't sure whether to feel embarrassed or vindicated.
 Vernon seethed, "I-- that's-- There's no excuse for that, either! I've a mind
to have you taken away by the police!"
 "I'll tell them you brought me here."
 "What?"
 The girl then made a convincing impression of a (possibly Irish) kidnap
victim, pleading to Harry as if he were the visiting constable.
 "Th-th-the large man wif a bushy moo-stash- he... he musta nabbed meh! I found
meself naked in da boot uv 'is auto, an' when I escaeped to beg for help, well,
he grabbed me again an' stoofed meh in the cupboard 'neath the stairs. I could
tell I wasn't the fairst, what wiv the locks and the old mattress down thaire."
 Harry and Vernon both flushed- in shame or fury in turn, but the girl
continued her rehearsal. "When I would'na give 'im the tenders he wanted, he
threatened to toss meh to yeh and fash like I'm some thaief and floozeh and
he'd hit me so hard I canna e'en remember me name--"
 "What's this-- I never!" Vernon blustered. "You-- you're one of his kind,
aren't you?"
 The girl smiled and dropped her act. "Oh, yeah. I have the magic in me. Thing
about that; do you think Harry likes you?"
 "WHAT? Why should I listen--?"
 "Because if you think he doesn'tlike you, what do you suppose he'll do to you
once he's an adult and no longer restricted from using his talents against you?
He might want to have a real reckoning, seeing as you've been less than
hospitable for a dozen years now."
 "He wouldn't dare!"
 "You a sporting man, then? Believe that's a wager worth making? Just think of
it; Harry, wand out and ready, counting the seconds 'til his majority whilst
you sleep, unaware that the hour of his deliverance is also the beginning of
your worst nightmare."
 She stepped forward until inches from Vernon's ponderous belly and stared up
into his jowls. "It might be best for you to make a strategic withdrawal now,
and think about the future," her calm voice threatened, "... and how little of
it you may have left."
 Uncle Vernon's evident rising blood pressure was giving Harry some concern,
but on the flipside, this was the most anyone had ever said or done in his
defense, and he wasn't inclined to interrupt her. Even more surprising, this
girl was doing so whilst unarmed, wearing naught but his oldest school robe,
her bare feet set in a wide stance and her hands at her hips. His musing was
cut short when Uncle Vernon tore his gaze from the girl in favour of barking at
Harry.
 "Now, see here, boy! You'll get this trollop out of here, and I mean today! No
more funny business, either of you!" Following this, Harry's uncle turned with
a harrumph and stomped back out of the room. His thunderous retreat down the
stairs prompted a whinge from Dudley in the next bedroom; "Oi-Harry-shuddup-
it's-too-bloody-early!"
 Vernon growled back up the stairs, "Watch your mouth, Dudders."
 The girl closed the door and turned to face him with a smile.
 He looked back at her with unrestrained awe. Without any evidence of magic or
might, she had sent Uncle Vernon running. "Who'd you say you were, again?"
 "I hadn't, but you can call me Holly- like your wand." She gestured toward his
wand still resting on the bedstand.
 "And-- " Harry was having a hard time believing she was real, so he was
dreading the answer to his next question; "-- why are you here, exactly?"
 The girl - Holly - made a wry half-smile. "I'm here to help. I've always
wanted to be here for you, Harry, but now I can really help. Y'see, I am your
wand, transformed into a girl."
 "Err... but my wand's still there."
 "Oh. Well, maybe I'm a boggart, Harry. Is there any reason to think your
greatest fear is yourself as a witch?"
 "No! I'd never even thought of it. Besides, you aren't making me afraid. Just
a bit--"
 "Uncomfortable?"
 "Yeah. But less than I'd think. You do seem familiar. And you seem to know
much more about me than I've ever told anyone but my friends. You're my wand?"
 "Bet you wish you cleaned me more often, now. I could use a good polishing and
rub down. Do I look... dirtyto you?"
 This triggered several layers of successively embarrassing thoughts for Harry,
accompanied by the heat of a blush that he felt out to his ears. It occurred to
him that while Holly might be shorter, she most certainly had an adult woman's
curves. He was only saved from his mortification when he noticed Holly's
taunting grin.
 "You're having me on! Oh, you... that was-- you're not my wand. Who are you,
then?"
 "Let's just say that Neville's last mistake in Potions was a doozy."
 "Oh, come on."
 "Yeah, I'm really the inversion of you escaped from a magic mirror."
 Harry was getting impatient enough for his own sarcasm to kick in. "Funny- you
don't look evil."
 "Who says you're shat from angels? Besides, the real deal-breaker for that one
is that we're both right-handed."
 "Then who--"
 "Time turner snafu- I'm you and Hermione tangled together."
 "I don't see the resemblance."
 "Kept the good of both- your looks, her brains and superior gender."
 "Hah! Superior? But really--"
 "Harry, bizarre as it may seem, and it's a bit odd for me as well, I'm a
version of you. The cause isn't important right now. I am here. I'm in your
corner, and if nothing else, I could use your help in getting some proper
clothes and other living arrangements."
 "Maybe you could stay here, only hidden."
 "Now that you've got me, you want me for yourself, eh?"
 "It's not that." Harry blushed again, but then his mood darkened, as he
remembered why things had felt grim this summer. "I've been cut off, and I'm
sick of it. If you're really in my corner, then be here, in my corner. I can't
fathom why, but you just seem too familiar to be an enemy."
 "I bet it's easier to talk to me because I'm basically you, right? Kinda like
having a long-lost sister who's been secretly keeping tabs on you finally show
herself."
 "Yeah. I guess... I feel like there's no way you'd judge me. Or something."
 "I suppose not. I can guarantee that there's nothing you've done or thought
that is worse than what I've already done or thought myself." Holly smiled
again and then sat down next to Harry on his bed.
 Harry looked over at her and smiled back, but he couldn't for the life of him
figure out where to go from there. How much would she know about him? How much
of his thoughts would echo hers? What if this was all a trap? It didn't feel
like one- as unlikely as it seemed, Holly's various bogus explanations made it
easier to accept her, if only because she knew of his friends and their
foibles. Of course, Harry couldn't really come up with any explanation that
didn't boil down to, 'It's magic; just roll with it'. He was going with his
gut, and his gut said that this girl was family. Not him as a girl, exactly.
More like a big sister like she'd said. A shorter one, but older than him-
probably just past school age. Maybe a cousin.
 After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, Holly bounced on the bed to
prompt some motion and suggested, "You should get dressed. We can go for
brekkers and sort out a few things."
 "Do you think we should be seen out in public together? I mean, with Voldemort
back I expect it must be dangerous for us. That's what Ron and Hermione say in
their letters." Harry's discontent reared up again. "That's about all they say,
really. 'Can't say anything. Stay out of trouble, out of sight.' You know them,
right?"
 "Let's just say I've heard of them. I've heard of most everyone you've met and
quite a few you haven't, but I don't know what you think of anyone, or what
you've been through. If you tell me who they are to you, it might help us
both."
 "Now I'm thinking you're a hallucination."
 "Nah- I'd know more about you and probably wouldn't provoke Vernon just by
being here. Also, my name isn't Tyler."
 "I don't get it."
 "Which further proves I'm a different person. We read different books."
 "Please... who are you, really?"
 "I'm Holly." She took a deep breath and grasped his hand in hers. She looked
straight into his eyes and he felt dizzy for a moment, then a calm settled over
him and his shoulders lost some of their tension. She continued, "I used to be
in your shoes, but things went much worse for me, until I finally got it under
control. Once I was finished, rather than being dead I appeared here. I'm
really not sure why. My current theory is that this is the work of a higher
power and He tossed me here to show how it should have gone."
 "So you really are on my side?"
 Holly nodded. "I am your missing family. Mother, sister, friend, confidant,
trainer and advocate. There are two things I cannot do for you."
 "What?"
 "I won't make your choices for you. That's just the way I am."
 "And the other thing you can't do?"
 "Cast spells." She frowned. "I tried a few things with your wand before I woke
you up, but it wasn't listening to me. My influence over magic seems to end at
my fingertips. Good enough for unlocking doors, but not to wrap Vernon in a
binding spell or lock his tongue to the roof of his mouth."
 "But you had to steal my robe?"
 "I showed up out in the garden wearing morning dew and lawn clippings. Figured
it might be easier for us to have intelligent conversation if you weren't
distracted by my assets. Besides, conjured clothes have an expiry that
inevitably takes effect at the most embarrassing time possible. Believe me- I
know."
 Harry's eyes widened.
 Holly smirked. "Already wondering, are we?"
 He blushed but smiled.
 Holly shrugged and stood up, turning to face him. The black robe fell from her
shoulders and slid off her body into a pile on the floor, leaving her bare.
 All thought of their similarity slipped from his mind- this was a woman. She
was curvy, with a heavy pair of breasts, smooth and round, and she had a trim
but sturdy frame. Her toned torso tapered to her waist at the navel and then
swelled into wide hips making for a round but firm backside. Wisps of black
hair crested the gap between her thighs- strong and lean thighs at that, her
calves were as well. Even her bare feet made Harry's pulse quicken.
 Holly twisted to the side to show off more of her body to him. Raising her
arms above her head made her breasts lift up and out, and her coppery areolae
firmed into nubs as he gazed at them. She danced a slow pirouette, so that
Harry could see her from all sides.
 He felt heat spread from his cheeks up to his hairline and down to his knees.
A nervous cackle escaped his senseless lips. He set his hands in his lap only
to bump into his erection, an embarrassing reaction that was thankfully
obscured by his bunched up blanket. He then moved the hands to his sides, then
gripped his elbows, trying to appear natural and at ease but failing horribly.
 "Your awestruck appreciation is very much flattering." Holly bent forward to
reach down- Harry couldn't decide whether to ogle her curvy arse or the bounce
of her round breasts. The moment her fingers touched the robes, the cloth leapt
up from the floor of its own accord to wrap around her body once more. Closing
a few clasps and tying the belt restored her modesty. And yet, a glance at her
bare feet reminded him that one layer was all that kept her from being naked
again.
 "Go wash up and get dressed so we can escape this dungeon," she said, "Uncle
Vernon isn't going to leave us alone for much longer."
 Harry dragged his blanket around his waist and then shuffled sideways towards
his door, always keeping Holly in view. He fumbled a bit with the door handle,
entranced by her bemused smile. After a moment's frustration with his
uncoolness, he finally rediscovered how a doorknob operates and exited into the
hallway.
 A moment later he opened the door again- Holly was reaching into Hedwig's
cage, a wide smile and confident hand offered in greeting for his owl. Hedwig
clacked, nipped her finger and then stepped out onto her forearm. Harry then
remembered what prompted his return. "How can you unlock doors and make the
robes jump onto your body without setting off the Ministry?"
 "I wasn't speaking a spell. What they can't hear or see won't bother them.
Even accidental magic doesn't earn a reaction unless it makes muggles anxious.
Do silent magic and keep the effects out of sight and you should slip beneath
the radar, so to speak. Go wash up."
 Hedwig whistled and made a stuttering noise in agreement.
 Following a long, hot, steamy, satisfying, tension-relieving shower ... Harry
returned to his room to find Holly was still cuddling with Hedwig. She set the
owl back onto the cage frame, then moved to allow Harry the bedroom to change
clothes. She mentioned as they traded positions, "Vernon stomped up here when
your shower started, no doubt to check that we weren't bathing together. I'd
suggest a prompt departure. Where's Petunia, by the by?"
 "Majorca, with her friend Vivian. It's just Dudley and Vernon for the week.
I'll catch Hell for not making breakfast for them."
 "Perhaps one will eat the other if you're gone long enough."
 "I like that idea," Harry said, "at least for the outcome."
 They crept down the stairs, both skipping the squeaky bottom step. Uncle
Vernon had fallen into a loud coughing snore in his armchair, so they continued
less cautiously. Harry stooped into the cupboard to grab a pair of taped-up old
trainers for Holly's bare feet. "Should I get my things?"
 "No," Holly whispered, "it's not like I've got a place to move you to, just
yet. There may be other factors as well. Best not to sacrifice your safe
houses, no matter how annoying the landlord. Grab your Gringott's key, though."
 Harry caught short and shot her a look. Holly saw it and raised her hands in
supplication. "We'll buy stuff for you and I'll take your castoffs- or spend
however much you feel a flash of my body was worth."
 "So we're going shopping?"
 "I'm a girl. It was inevitable." Harry's look of confusion elicited a sigh
from Holly. She teased, "Just how much life experience are you lacking, Harry?"
 "Most of it," Harry grumbled, "unless it could've killed me."
 They left the house into the dusty morning; what water had been feeding the
neighborhood lawns in defiance of the hosepipe ban would boil away in the heat
of day, the way this summer had gone. Harry led Holly to an isolated alleyway,
then held his wand out to summon the Knight Bus. It appeared a few minutes
later in a flash of purple and the sound of fleeing cats.
 Stan Shunpike stepped out, delivered his rote greeting and then gave Harry a
knowing look. "Are we transporting Neville Longbottom again, or--?"
 "No, Stan. I'm Harry, of course. The Leaky Cauldron?"
 "Think I've 'eard of it. That's in London, innit? Eleven sickles each."
 Holly perked up at a thought and asked, "Can I get a toothbrush?"
 Stan protested, "We don' sell 'em during the day! You're an odd sort, you are.
Wha's your name, then?"
 "Holly without-a-toothbrush, Mr. Shunpike."
 Harry paid the man and they climbed up to the second level to find a seat.
Once they were underway, Holly asked Harry to make a duplicate of his glasses
for her to wear. He cast the spell for her and was rewarded with a smile that
made his chest a little tight. It surprised him how much Holly's look of
approval meant to him.
 They spent the trip sharing a curved chaise lounge that slid back and forth
across the varnished floor of the bus, bouncing off other pieces of fine
furniture as their vectors changed. Holly had arranged them to sit at an angle
with their legs loosely interlaced, each with an arm braced along the chaise
back to minimize the chance of falling off or knocking into each other. When
not gripping the chaise, Holly threaded her fingers through Harry's. It only
took a little while for Harry to relax into the closeness of the affectionate
touches. Holly had kept his discomfort to a minimum by asking him about his
life so far.
 He brought her up to speed on his recent trials and tribulations during the
Tri-Wizard Tournament. Holly had a disconcerting habit of staring into his eyes
as he spoke, but whenever his storytelling would falter, she'd say just the
right thing to remind him of another adventure worth recounting.
 They arrived at the Leaky Cauldron just past noon. Harry stumbled down the
steps of the bus, exhausted, dizzy and famished, so Holly dredged up enough
change from the pockets of his robe to buy them lunch. He dove into his bacon
sandwich and crisps, while Holly had ordered a stew. After taking an
appreciative taste, she insisted that Harry try it as well, and he found
himself consuming the rest of the bowl, while alternating with bites of his
sandwich. When he saw that he'd reduced both dishes to drips and crumbs, Harry
looked up at Holly, aghast.
 "You should have said something. Weren't you hungry?"
 "Less than I expected," she replied.
 "God, I feel so rude. My friend Ron might pull this kind of thing, and I'd be
cringing if he did. Sorry."
 "Don't worry on it, Harry. We're family. I'd rather skip wasting time with
overtures of politeness between us. In fact, any time you say 'sorry' to me,
I'm going to punish you for it. This time's a freebie."
 "Heh. You're a bad influence."
 Holly grinned. It was almost predatory.
 
***** Complicated *****
Chapter Summary
     It's about truth
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 a
while?"
 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.
 
***** Devotion *****
Chapter Summary
     Harry's first time(s)
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: Devotion
 
 Harry followed Holly in a daze as she led them back to the Leaky Cauldron.
 His heart had been pounding so loud, he couldn't be sure the girl hadn't been
talking to him the entire way up to her rented room. When she closed the door
and turned to face him, he watched the dance of her moving lips but only heard
a muffled 'hup puh puh ruh dff'.
 Then she stopped doing anything but staring at him.
 "What?"
 "I said, 'Are you sure you're ready to do this,' but I'm thinking your
decision-making capabilities have been shut down."
 He nodded in a bashful way, but remembered not to say he was sorry. Instead he
proudly enunciated, "Meh yuhuh."
 "I need you to cast some spells before we start, so just calm down, will you?
We won't be doing anything but talking for a few minutes...." her left eyebrow
rose in concern, "or possibly hours."
 "Oh." Though he felt a slight disappointment, he found that the roaring in his
ears was fading.
 "Have a seat, take off your shoes. Do you know the Imperturbable charm?"
 "No."
 She sat at the desk chair and unzipped her riding boots to pull them off. "It
seals a room from eavesdropping. Better than the muffling charm and a very
polite thing to do for the sake of our neighbors. I'll teach you."
 It wasn't much different than the Impervius charm that kept his goggles water-
repelling in stormy Quidditch matches. Harry felt he had perfected it after
sealing the door, both windows and the chimney- it wasn't like they'd need a
fire with as hot as it had been.
 That wasn't the only spell Holly taught him, either. There were cleansing
spells, anti-pregnancy spells, a spell to check for pregnancy ('a very good
thing to know before having sex with the girl, Harry'), a spell for inducing a
quick moment of lust and several different ways to use spells that he already
knew but hadn't considered how useful they might be in a bedroom encounter.
 It was thirsty work, particularly in their sealed room. Holly opened a bottle
of wine for them to share. It had been delivered in addition to a carafe of
chilled pumpkin juice brought up with the stew being served to Cauldron guests
for supper. Harry hadn't really noticed the time spent until the sun set,
prompting Holly to light a few candles.
 She also lit an odd coil of incense. The spicy-sweet smoke rose in a lazy curl
from the ashen tip, adding a new flavour to Harry's breathing. He sat down
rather heavily onto a pillow, letting the fumes mix with the wine stirring his
senses, both serving to relax his tight shoulders.
 Holly plopped a second pillow directly in front of him and sat down Indian
style on it, much as when he'd first seen her in his room. The memory made him
smile.
 "I think you're ready for kissing," said Holly.
 Harry's calm haze cleared slightly when his pulse quickened. He saw her lean
towards him, and he leaned forward as well, puckering his lips a bit and
letting his eyes droop closed, as he'd seen on telly shows.
 He kept leaning forward until he was off-balance, snapping his arms forward to
brace himself from tipping face-first into the floor. When he sat back and
opened his eyes, Holly was smirking at him.
 "You missed the landing zone there, space cadet."
"What?"
 "A lot of intimacy is about making a gentle landing. Much like the moon
missions, it takes practice and skill to execute it with grace, and I assure
you that none of the astronauts take their eyes off the target until they have
to. Alternately, you can use your hands to guide you in, like so." She cupped
his face in both hands and leaned forward but made sure not to pull Harry
towards her by the jaw. If anything she was holding him back from trying to
close the distance as well which was--
 And they were kissing. Her lips were soft, dry and warm, and they slid across
his own with an even pressure, closing and opening just a little. He tried to
mimic the motion and noticed immediately that it was harder than it looked...
or felt. He was startled by the hot wet tongue that he felt dart into his
mouth, right before Holly tilted her head back to break the kiss. She leaned
away far enough that Harry could focus his eyes on her whole face again.
 "Still, it takes practice to come in only so fast and make a gentle contact.
You don't want to just plow into the surface- you'll end up breaking something.
Notice how I cocked my head so we didn't bump noses?"
 "No... but yeah."
 Harry's heart was beating hard again. He wanted to pay attention but his whole
body tingled still from that kiss. He became aware of Holly's fingers still
touching his cheeks and his skin grew hot there, in fact he was becoming keenly
aware of every place his body touched hers, even where her bare knee had slid
from beneath her skirt to nudge against his shin.
 The green of her eyes seemed to swirl and she let out the barest gasp, a sound
so fragile he felt the skin beneath his hair prickle in trying to remember it.
 "I'd forgotten what that felt like," she said.
 "What what felt like?"
 "The First Time- confusion, surprise, delight, anxiety... you feel like your
body is actually a team of racehorses dashing about, out of sync, and if you
let go they're gonna split you apart."
 Harry gulped and nodded.
 She stared into his eyes- when did she take off her glasses? - and said,
"Harry, you're doing fine. I'm not going to hurt you, and you should know that
I can take a lot of punishment- more than you can dish out. Take a breath."
When he did, she said,  "Remember this rule to fall back on, if nothing else:
don't do anything to the other person that you wouldn't enjoy having them do to
you. Check to make sure that they're liking what you're doing and adjust
accordingly."
 He thought about it, and nodded when he realised how much sense it made.
 "Shall we continue? More topics to cover, you know."
 "O-okay. Do you-- should I take my clothes off?"
 Holly smiled and said, "No. I'll take care of that, this time." As if she'd
been waiting for the cue, she leaned back and tapped Harry's leg. He unfolded
it. Her hands reached up the leg of his trousers and found the band of his
sock. She slid it down and rolled it off his foot- it tickled a little just
because her hands were a bit chill. They shifted position, she took off his
other sock and then said, "Stand up, Harry."
 He clambered to his feet, joined a moment later by Holly, her fingers already
unbuttoning his shirt. She was concentrating on her task, and he was enthralled
with watching her- the deft but unhurried movements, the rise and fall of her
chest, the cleavage visible down between the lapels of her shirt. When she
pushed the sleeves down his arms to remove his shirt, her chest pressed against
his bare skin. Hard nubs beneath the fabric pressed into his sternum.
Holly looked up at him with lidded eyes. She said, "Yes, Harry. I am excited."
 She grabbed his right hand with both of hers, arranged the wrist and fingers
and then cupped his hand onto her left breast. Harry felt the soft, heavy
plumpness of it and let his thumb drag around, finding its way underneath the
lapel to flick against her hardened nipple. Holly's breath caught and she
grabbed him by the neck, dragging him down into a much deeper kiss. Her tongue
had returned to tease between his lips.
 He continued massaging and flicking, his other hand at her shoulder. Holly
continued kissing him, interrupted by a periodic hiss or gasp, but her hands
were busy unbuckling his belt, opening his buttons and unzipping his trousers
until they were held up only by the curve of his arse and where their bodies
pressed together at several places.
 Holly broke their kiss and stepped back, using a deft turn of the forearm to
angle Harry's hand off of her breast. His trousers dropped to the floor and her
hands were already at his hips, threading beneath the waistband of his jockey
shorts. His erection had been pressing up, ready to slide out when it could
escape the elastic.
 Harry was caught by surprise when Holly turned him sideways, shifting to stand
pressed against his side. One of her hands was holding his hip against her
belly. The other...
 She had his erection pulled out and held in delicate but firm fingers that
pulled his foreskin back and up, back and up, once, twice...
 Fireworks shot through his entire body in sync with the spurting cum shooting
out onto the floor. His legs buckled, but Holly's position allowed her to pull
him against her braced body, and they sank to kneeling on the floor together.
Cum had continued to pulse out over her fingers; she'd never stopped the
milking motion with her hand around his foreskin, extending his climax longer
than any he could remember. Not that his memory was working that great at that
moment.
 He heard her cooing into his ear, "Sooo goood. It feels sooo goooooood,
doesn't it?"
 Harry could only nod as he rode the tapering shocks of his orgasm. When he
felt he was done, he tipped forward to brace himself by the arms, head facing
the floor; Holly had retracted her hand from his member as he'd done so. He
looked to his side to where she was kneeling.
 Holly took a quick lick of her cum-covered hand and winced. "A bit bitter. You
should cut down on the crisps."
 Harry couldn't process this- he broke out in a hysterical laugh.
 Holly smiled wide and laughed as well. "Told you- sex and comedy are able
bedfellows. Next lesson begins in ten minutes. Clean up and catch your breath."
She then stood up and walked over to a self-filling washbasin by the window to
wash off her hands.
 By the time Harry had finished cackling and performed the necessary spells,
Holly had disappeared behind a privacy screen. Stuck with a minute with nothing
to do, Harry tried to figure out if he was supposed to have taken off his
jockeys or left them in place. Erring on the side of boldness, he doffed them,
then sat down in the desk chair to await Holly's next lesson.
 Soon she emerged, but she had changed her outfit a bit. Instead of the white
button-up shirt, she had replaced it with a black sleeveless undershirt which
covered a brassiere- also black, if Harry was seeing the lace of the straps
poking out as he thought.
 "Didn't think you wore those."
 "Usually I don't, but this is a skill worth knowing. Stand up, Mr. Naked Stud-
fellow."
 Harry leapt to his feet. His todger flopped a little, but just seeing Holly
was wakening its interest.
 Holly snickered, and then she affected a hip-swaying advance, shifting her
body to an unheard beat and biting on her lower lip in a way that made him
breathe deeper.
 The moment she stood in front of him, she spun around to lean her back against
his body. She tilted her head up and held her arms out to her sides. "You get
to undress me, now. Take your time, appreciate things, keep your eyes on what
you're doing, and don't be afraid to move me around a bit. A proper partner
will flow with you, but it's better to tell the girl what you're doing so that
she isn't caught off-balance. Ask questions if you have them."
 He started at her belly, wrapping his arms around her to meet in front. One
hand pulled the undershirt's hem up a few inches, while he used the other to
feel the contours of her toned stomach. She made the occasional gasp or 'mmm'
to let him know what felt good. He pulled the shirt up and over her bra-covered
breasts, noting her nipples hardening again beneath the fabric. She had been
holding her arms up with her hands near her neck to give him the best view
possible. Now that he was encouraging her shirt upward she reached towards the
ceiling.
 With her shirt stretched between her upper arms and covering her face, he
stopped. His hands glided down her arms and slid up to cup her breasts. Holly's
deep gasp was very encouraging. He leaned back and looked at the clasp holding
the bra in place.
 "Grab on each side of the hooks; push your fingers towards each other,
stretching the fabric slightly, and then separate. It's the tension that holds
the hooks in place."
 The hooks unleashed and the bra popped loose. Harry felt like he'd been told
the secret password for an exclusive men's club. His fingers slid beneath the
loose fabric and over the swell of her breasts, raking his nails into the soft
flesh and then enveloping them to feel their mass.
 Holly's breath had turned ragged. "G-get this off of me and I'll show you my
appreciation, Harry."
 He kept fondling her breasts, feeling the crinkle of nipple and the buttery
smoothness of teatflesh.
 Holly was leaning back against him, her fabric-concealed head lolling against
his shoulder. "Never.... never should have told you... that I like this."
 "You didn't," Harry replied, and pulled one nipple out taut from her chest.
The areola grew deep pink between his fingers, and Holly moaned.
 He abruptly let go of both breasts and held his hands away. Holly had seethed
when he did it, but now she was twisting in place, rubbing her thighs together
and trying to push her chest out to renew the contact. A glancing touch would
skim one and then flick a nail across the other.
 She hissed in a most desperate tone, "Pleeeeeeeeease..."
 He grasped both breasts and squeezed them.
 Holly barked, "Oh God!" and she twisted to curl inward, drawing Harry forward.
She then said, "Fuck it," ripped the under shirt and dangling brassiere from
around her head, spun in place and grabbed Harry's head, drawing him into
another fierce snog.
 She broke the kiss just as suddenly and pushed Harry so that he dropped onto
the cushions. She joined him almost immediately, taking a moment to unzip the
back of her skirt to loosen it before dropping down to straddle his hips.
 Somewhere beneath the linen skirt, Harry could feel Holly's privates sliding a
warm slick path across the underside of his cock. Holly then reached down under
the loosened waist of the skirt and between her legs, gathering up his cock and
guiding it to a place hotter and wetter than the rest. He felt Holly rubbing
his cocktip against something fleshy. She paused.
 "Is something wrong?"
 Holly smirked and said, "I'll tell you later. Do me a favour, Harry?"
 "Anything."
 "My breasts... craveyour attention."
 Harry sat up and cupped her left breast, bringing his lips to the tip and
kissing it. Holly's moan encouraged him and he licked the nipple, feeling it
curl tight beneath his tongue. He moved to the other breast and let his teeth
scrape across the skin, earning another moan.
 Holly shifted her pelvis, still suspended on the tip of his cock. The grinding
motion reminded Harry of the action of a mortar and pestle. He also felt warm
fluid enveloping his cock head and glazing down his length, though Holly
continued to rock against the tip without descending.
 Harry redoubled the attention to her breasts. Her breathing increased pace- he
could see her eyes fluttering and she bit her lower lip again before taking a
shuddering gasp. She hissed out,"Bite them, Harry!"
 He paused and then nipped the tip. Her spine twisted in a reaction but she
seethed, "Harder!"
 It took leap of faith, but Harry shifted his mouth to envelop her right
breast... and then bit down.
 Holly cried out. She then dropped her pelvis onto his cock, ensheathing it in
an incredible, tight, hot channel that then pulsed around him. While Harry had
leaned back, releasing his teeth from around her breast, Holly yet held up a
hand to warn him against moving, her pelvis quivering around him and warm fluid
spilling around the base of his cock.
 After about a minute, Holly opened her eyes to let a few tears escape. She
bent down to kiss Harry tenderly. When she pulled back to sitting up she was
smiling again.
 He started, "Are you alr--"
 Holly had clenched something around his hardness, and then began gyrating her
hips, slowly shifting his cock out and into her a few inches at a time. Harry
felt this incredible immersion of feeling surrounding his cock and pressed
upward into Holly in search of more. Holly gasped and shifted to curving her
pelvis against his, extending the motion of his cock inserting and retracting
in her core by several inches per pass.
 Harry felt heat crawl across his skin. He looked up to see trickles of sweat
trailing down Holly's neck and following the curve of her breasts. He reached
up to massage the salty fluid into her skin and earned a whine from the girl,
followed by a gutteral whisper of "Fuck. Fuck. Oh, fuck. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck
me Harry..."
Hearing her call his name like this sent a shower of sparks across his skull.
He grabbed Holly by her hips and slammed his cock up into her, each thrust
being answered by Holly's mantra of  "Fuck, fuck, fuck...", increasing in pitch
as she said it more often.
 Harry came without warning, a flash of pleasure answered by a flood of ecstasy
sweeping through his brain. He was vaguely aware of arching his hips up into
Holly for several tense, glorious seconds before losing all strength and
collapsing flat onto the cushions. Holly continued to flex and clench her
muscles around his spurting cock, once again extending his climax to something
much greater than his hand had ever come close to giving him.
 She slumped over him then, her breasts pressed against his chest and her head
turned to rest against his shoulder, her arms laying to either side of his
head. They lay there for a while.
 Holly was the first to move, lifting her body upward to let his softening cock
slip out of her. She clambered to standing, her skirt slipping down off her
hips once she had narrowed her stance.
 Harry gaped when he saw that there was blood around her nethers. Already,
Holly was turning to him and saying, "Don't freak out."
 Harry sputtered in protest but she raised a hand to silence him. She said,
"Okay, remember when I said comedy and sex go hand in hand? Well this time the
joke was on me."
 "What? Why?"
 "New body, no scars... and I'm a virgin again. Or I was, for a few hours
anyway."
 "I'm... I'm so sorry--"
 "Harry, you were a virgin up until a few minutes ago- do you feel better or
worse now that your virginity is gone?"
 "Better! A hundred times better, but--"
 "No- that's it. That's all. If you're a virgin, losing it seems like it would
be an epic event, a soul-shattering compromise of self and fall from grace or
maybe the heralding of your entry to adultitude with an aura of completeness
surrounding your head. After it's gone? ‘Wow-that-was-great-when-can-I-do-that-
again!', right?"
  "Um, yeah. By the way, wow, that was great. When can we do it again?"
  Holly smiled. "Wash up, stud. Then we'll see if you've learned anything."
  They spent the next few minutes on opposite sides of the privacy screen, each
with two towels, one wet and one dry. When Harry was cleaned up, he cleared his
throat to verify it was safe to come out. Holly replied, "I'm ready when you
are."
  She had changed into another outfit, such as it was. Holly had a silk
dressing gown tied around her waist. Its shimmering off-white fabric was
painted in broad strokes of red, black and pink across the back, depicting some
sort of asian flowering plant.
  "Where did you get that?"
  "You bought it for me today. Thank you, Harry."
  "How much did we spend altogether?"
  "Plenty, but barely a splash in your assets, if I'm guessing right. You
bought yourself a kimono as well, and as much as I love watching you wander
around naked, you should try it on."
  Harry followed where Holly was pointing, finding another wrapped package. He
unfolded it and pulled out a silk housecoat just like Holly's except the colors
were inverted- a black background, with white, green and purple for the image
of austere foliage. He put in on and felt almost more naked than he had when
standing freshly scrubbed. The silk caressed his skin, alerting his cock that
duty was once again calling.
 He looked over to Holly, who was giving him a 'come here' gesture. When he
stepped close, she stood up on tip toes and gave him a soft, lingering kiss.
She then stepped back from him, stopping only when her arse bumped into the
desk provided with the room. She hopped up onto it, her legs dangling over the
edge and the kimono slipping loose from its belt.
 "Last formal lesson of the day, Harry. I'd like to introduce you to the
details of the female sex parts, but we won't be bothering with the full
biology lesson at this time."
 "Really? Why not?"
 "Because I'm really wanting you to touch me right now." She pulled one leg up
until she could hook her heel onto the edge of the desk. Harry stepped closer.
Her other leg made a similar motion, though as it rose to anchor at the wooden
top, Holly's kimono was spread aside, and her privates were spread out before
Harry like a opened flower.
 "Give me your hand." He did, and she guided it touch the tuft of hair capping
a prominent curve of bone, just above the parted vertical lips that were
crowned at the top end by a small nub.
 "Mons. Clitoris. Vulva. Labia majora, labia minora, urethra... and vaginal
opening." She had trailed her finger over each part as she named it.
 Harry's hand floated above the mons, gently rubbing a little circle on her
skin. He asked, "What would you suggest? I have nothing to compare this to."
 "I know. So, gently, feel around. Get to know the neighborhood."
 He did as told. His thumb slipped along the folds, parting the flesh to stroke
along the damp skin it protected. Holly made an imploring grunt. Harry fit his
fingers in the crevice, sliding along the contour, letting his fingers be
guided down to the entrance of her vagina, where the skin appeared a bit raw
around the opening. A clear wash of fluid seemed to flow along the valley where
his fingers were playing.
 "Did... did you just come?"
 "No; men shoot out sperm in a suspension to deliver the package at the point
of climax. Women, when stimulated, release what I call iral fluid along the
channel to help guide your todger into the right hole and make the entry as
smooth and comfortable as possible."
 "I've never heard of iral--
 "It's short for 'I'm ready and lubricating'. My term, patent pending."
 "Well you certainly seem to be; there's a lot of fluid--"
 Holly gasped then, so loud that Harry thought he might have pinched something.
He saw by her expression that absolutely nothing was wrong. He turned his hand
and swirled the fluid around her soft tissues.
 Holly was giving him a smoky look, but she seemed to be holding her tongue in
favour of allowing Harry to explore. He slipped a finger down to her entrance
and teased the edge in several circles. Holly's breath came out in bursts. Her
hips lifted her arse from the desk an inch, attempting to maneuver a different
motion from him.
 Harry poked a fingertip in and brought it out. Holly squeezed her eyes shut.
He slowly inserted his index finger again, probing in until his knuckles
pressed at the edge. It was hot inside, with much texture and soft crevices to
explore. To aid his discovery process, he added a second finger, exploring the
spread and depth of Holly's channel.
 Holly was moaning a bit and she twitched and thrust up her pelvis in answer to
Harry's various pokings. When she began to pant, Harry finally recognised what
he was doing to her. He turned his fingers in her, shifting position to lean
closer to the desk edge. His fingers moved in and out, his thumb coincidentally
propped to graze against her clit every few twirls.
 Sweat was streaming from her temples and glistened on her skin, the kimono
having slipped open at some point. She leaned back on the desk to let a hand
free and grabbed her own breast, kneading it and pinching the nipple.
 Harry was aglow with a sense of power over her, where his touch gave her
uncontrollable pleasure. He added a third finger and shifted into a directly
inserting motion, prompting Holly to gasp out, "Yes, Harry! God, yes!"
 It occurred to him that his own needs were being sidelined. His erection was
running at full pressure and wanted to get involved. Harry pulled out his
fingers to Holly's whining displeasure. He opened the robe and lifted his cock
tip up to the desk, circling Holly's entrance with the tip much as he had with
his finger.
 In a deliberate and paced motion, he slid his cock into Holly's opening.
Holly tossed her head back against the desk and grabbed both breasts, while
also lifting her legs around to slide against Harry's hips. Harry was
distracted by the tightness surrounding his todger and began the pistoning
motion that instinct drove him to.
 Holly moaned again, adding an encouraging "Yessssss." as Harry got up to
speed.
 He slid into her, again and again, and each time he thought she was going to
climax she would thrash around and then kick against his arse with her heel to
get him going faster. Harry grabbed her by the hips, slamming his meat into her
just as he drew her pelvis onto him.
 Her moans became grunts, then growls. A look of fierce desire flamed in her
eyes and Harry came over like a man possessed, fucking her hard into the desk
and delighting in every cry and scream of "YES!" "FUCK!" "GOD!" and "HARDER!"
 Their frenzy finally triggered a roaring climax, Harry clenched tight against
Holly's pelvis and Holly's inner muscles grasping and undulating around his
cock as it sprayed semen into her. At some level, Harry could feel the clench
of his balls emptying into her, and that it pleased them both.
 They fell slack, Holly resting back on the desk and Harry leaning against it,
his weakened legs struggling to keep him upright. He slipped back and out of
Holly, stumbling over to flop onto her bed, covered in sweat.
 Holly rolled herself off the desk and walked over to the edge of the bed. She
bent down and kissed Harry quite lovingly before raising up to hold herself
over him by her straight-braced arms, breasts swaying prominently for his
enjoyment.
 "Want me to budge over?"
 "No. I'm too damned sticky and hot to cuddle with you. Just wanted you to
know..."
 "Yeah?"
 "I'm not done with you. Not by a longshot, lover. Rest up, though. We've had a
long day."
 In the back of his head, Harry woke up a little, realising that Holly had
transformed his world in the space of a day. Fatigue kept him from pursuing the
thought any further, and he fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep.
  
 
***** Enemies *****
Chapter Summary
     Maybe they should have stayed in bed
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: Enemies ]]
 
 Holly sat and watched Harry fall asleep, stroking the hair along his forehead.
Sensing his slumber was stable, she rose from the bed, leaving Harry's naked
body beneath a topsheet so he wouldn't wake up feeling sticky. She opened the
window, disrupting Harry's Imperturbable charm. It was a compromise- the room
needed the fresh air more than they needed privacy. It had gotten quite musky
as a result of their lovemaking.
 'Love-making'. I am really losing perspective. I was alright devoting my time
here to Harry's success, but only a day later it's becoming more than that.
Seeing his struggles without my guidance, it reminds me of why I was willing to
defy prophecy in the first place. He shouldn't have to stand alone against the
darkness, even if he's willing. Yet time and again, he faces his nightmares
alone. Well, not anymore, if I have a say.
 For the next few hours, Holly sat naked by the window. Mostly she spent the
time scratching notes into a leather bound pocket journal they'd bought at
Scrivenshafts. Occasionally she would fall into a meditative daze, only
disrupted when Harry shifted position on the bed.
 She was in the midst of one of these reveries when Hedwig soared in from the
night, landing beside Holly on the sill. The owl gave her a long look, followed
by another long look over at the bed.
 "What?"
 The owl swung out a wing to cuff Holly in the ear with a 'Thwap!'
 "Ow! What's your--?"
[Quooork-clack! Click-click snurfle cack whistle snap snap gurgle snap quork-
Clack!]
 "I'm out of practice, Hedwig. Are you torqued because I moved on him fast or
are you bummed because you wanted to watch?"
[Click-click. Trill-squeak gurgle.]
 "'Not interested in watching primates mate.' Fine. I promise, Harry wasn't
coerced."
[Sniff-snort! Whistle-click-click.]
"You'll have to ask him that, but he's asleep. Let me get you some water."
[Warble-squeak.]
 "Yes, your highness. Fresh water."
 The owl stretched out her wing again, but stopped short of actually swinging
it at her.
 Once Hedwig had her own cup of water from the auto-filling basin, Holly went
back to journaling, using her offhand to stroke Hedwig's chest feathers. When
dawn finally shined over the rooftops, Holly rose to dress in her 'huntress'
outfit; Harry had been decent enough to Tergeo the skirt clean following her
unscheduled deflowering. She left the room in hat, shirt, skirt and boots and
ventured out into Diagon Alley in search of a bakery.
 It took a few hours before she found one that was open- the Hatbox Cafe and
Millinery, down a side street called Cashew Alley. She was spared from their
insistence that she needed to buy a hat to go with her croissants by pointing
out she was already wearing one.
 Fortune was smiling on her, for once.
 This was demonstrated again a few minutes later. On her way back she'd caught
sight of Remus Lupin, who was trying very hard to nonchalantly sniff his way
through the streets. He was soon intercepted by Kingsley Shacklebolt, prompting
Holly to search for a shadow to inhabit. Snippets of their conversation floated
to her.
 "... sure that he's here? He ... the Knight Bus, but that was almost a day
..."
 "... have a nose... girl, one we've never heard... terrible risk. Sirius is
having kittens."
 "Hah! Remus, if you don't know... too many scents to... might as well
return... "
 A few words later, both men departed.
 Holly waited an extra minute in case this had been staged, then strode back
along her path in quiet earnest.
 She was a few blocks from the Leaky Cauldron when luck appeared to be
abandoning her. She saw Harry walking in her direction, only for a beefy thug
of a man with a bald pate to step in front of him from a doorframe. When the
beefy man shifted direction towards a side alley, Harry wasn't there, and the
man's cloak seemed to be flapping about as if geese were fighting beneath it.
 No. Not now-- I haven't so much as a fruit knife!
 Holly doffed her hat and reached inside, mumbling, "Rope, rope, c'mon someone
must have left something in here I can use. Why else buy second-hand magic? A-
ha!" Holly extracted a length of woven black and grey horsetails- maybe centaur
tail hairs - and fussed in a panic tying it into a lasso.
 By the time she caught up with Harry and his abductor, Harry had twisted out
of his grip onto the cobblestones, still wrapped in binding cords but writhing
to try and kick the man. Holly snuck up behind the thug and lasso'd him around
the neck.
 The man reached up to pull off the loop, but Holly reeled back to pull it
tight, trapping his fingers against his own neck. She then climbed up his back,
using her full weight on the taut rope of hair. The choking man lurched
backwards into the sunlight, where Holly could see his face clearly. 
 "Hah! Macnair!" Holly exclaimed, "Always such a fan of the kiddies you are."
The brute jerked and swayed back and forth trying to dislodge her but most of
his attention was on his neck. From her position as a monkey on his back, she
could see Harry making his way out of his bindings, but he would need more
time. She looped another length of rope around Macnair's eyes, drawing close to
his purpling head to hiss in his ear, "Bold move, Walden, but what were you
going to do with him? Bring him to Malfoy? You lot don't control the Ministry
yet!"
 Harry had freed himself and stood but appeared uncertain how to help. Holly
said, "Knock him out, Harry." He shrugged, reared back and punched the man in
the jaw, ending up with some broken knuckles for his trouble.
 "Use spells, Harry- he's too physical for a beat-down. I mean, for Heaven's
sake, the man executes monsters for a living!" She was still strangling him,
but with a hand caught in the noose as well, Macnair wasn't likely to pass out
from it if he hadn't yet.
 Harry found his wand and cast, but his single Stupefy glanced off the man's
shoulder.
 "What the--?"
 "Spells, plural- he's got ablative shield charms. You need to wear away his
def- ACK!"
Macnair had somehow sent a charge of lightning into Holly, flinging her into
the air and sending her spasming to the ground. She twitched and clinched for a
minute, desperately trying to will away the debilitating effect. When she stood
up...
 Harry was standing over Macnair's unconscious body. Splatters of blood on both
walls of the side alley matched the mincemeat look of Walden's face in a sort
of Rorschach's blot.
 "Deprimo?"
 "... and Bombarda. Maybe a gouging hex," Harry answered, his wand sparking in
readiness.
 "Well done!"
 Holly dropped next to the man's chest, searching and finding two wands. She
left the obvious one and kept the smaller. Then she closed her eyes and
concentrated. When she opened them, her index finger had hardened into an iron
spike. She gripped his face and drove it into his left eye.
 "Holly! What are you doing? You... you've mutilated him!"
 "He's a Death Eater, Harry, and he'd just snatched you off the street with no
authority to do so."
 "But why his eye?"
 "Trust me, it's funny from my viewpoint. Besides, what's he gonna say? 'Some
little girl stabbed me while I was abducting Harry Potter'? That'll be
sowelcomed on both sides of his life. What a tool."
 Holly gathered up the horsetail rope and dumped it back into her outback hat.
She then put the hat on Harry's head.
 "We have to get out of here, because Walden One-eye here isn't the only one
looking for you. Keep your head down. Go into Knockturne- take the first left,
then the second left, then the third left. You'll find a red door with
doorknobs on both sides. Open it with the left one- it should take you to an
alley behind a Chinese restaurant near Westminster. If you get lost, don't talk
to anyone- just growl at them, and make your way out to the muggle world one
way or another. Climbing is always an option when stuck in a maze. I'll find
you there."
 "Where are you going?"
 "To get Hedwig and our stuff from the Cauldron. Nobody looking would recognise
me yet, and the owner thinks my name is Miss Toothbrush."
[[]]
 Harry had followed Holly's instructions and thus fell out of the red door
about ten feet down, into a rubbish bin. Favoring his damaged knuckles, he
clambered out and then picked away at the refuse stuck to his clothing.
 A minute later, Holly appeared near him as if conjured. There was no sound or
compression of air- she simply became. Their travel satchel (bought yesterday
to carry their clothes) slipped from her shoulder to the ground and she opened
her arms wide, giving him an imploring look.
 Harry rushed up and hugged her, which she returned with a desperate grip. It
reminded him of Hermione's hugs, just with less frizz in the face. After a long
moment they let go.
 Harry asked, "Where's Hedw--"
 Holly had glomped onto him, the force causing Harry to teeter back against the
alley wall. Once he was stable, Holly was kissing him, threading her hands
through his hair whilst her legs held her up around his waist. His hands slid
down to grip her arse to aid in the support, though his right hand twinged from
the strain.
 They kissed for a bit, then Holly slid down off his body. Both were breathing
heavily.
 "What was that for?" Harry asked.
 "Seeing you being snatched after I brought you to Diagon- it was terrifying. I
know you can fight. I know you've faced monsters. I know you chose to go with
me, but I still felt responsible. I'm sorry. I want no apologies from you at
all, but in this case, I owe it to you. I am sorry. Anyway, it made me
appreciate how much you mean to me."
 Harry tried to find a proper reply but gave up, smiled, and then kissed her
for a nice long minute.
 When they ended that kiss, Holly said, "As for Hedwig, I sent her on to the
Dursley's, because that's where we're going when I'm done with you here."
 Before Harry could voice a protest, Holly was on him again, kissing and
pressing her chest against his. Her hands had unlatched his belt and trousers
and in a shocking second his erection was already hanging out in the open air.
Holly cupped the cock in her hand, gently pushing Harry back to the wall. She
had stopped the kissing but her eyes were locked on his, mesmerising him with
their ferocious green burn. Holly lifted a boot to brace on a cement protrusion
on the wall next to him. With the hand not holding his cock, she pulled her
skirt up, gathering it at her waist and exposing her bare nethers.
 In a single hopping movement Harry couldn't possibly predict, much less
emulate, Holly jumped into Harry's arms and slid her body down his until she'd
impaled herself on Harry's cock, guided into her by the hand that had held it.
Her ragged gasp and the sound of a splurt as his cock slid through her
lubrication into hot, tight glory echoed off the walls of the alleyway.
 Again, Harry gripped her beneath her bum, an action she approved of with an
almost guilty smile. She'd wrapped her legs around his waist and now locked her
feet together just above his arse. He adjusted his grip, making her slide up
and back onto his cock- that hadn't been the intent but they both gasped in
enjoyment of it.
 With a sudden pivot, Harry had Holly pressed against the alley wall and was
driving his cock up into her, urged on by her almost subvocal, "Yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah..." She shifted slightly, and Harry felt his cock sliding into her
in a subtly different way, one that allowed her to clench and grind and twist
her pelvis in answer to his up-driving fucking.
  Their panting echoed through the alley, but for whatever reason the
pedestrians out in the daylight didn't look their way. The possibility haunted
him as each one passed in his peripheral vision. It was making the experience a
bit harrowing... and all that more potent. He felt excess fluids dripping down
his cock and over his ballsack, cooling in the air and inducing yet more desire
to unload his seed into Holly's 'fleshy cathedral'.
 He was close to climax when a door swung open several feet down the alley from
them. A young oriental man stepped out, carrying a bag of rubbish destined for
a bin. He stopped short, staring at them as they fucked.
 Harry's heart fluttered in panic, and he murmured, "Uh... H-holly?"
 "Don't you dare stop, Harry! Oh, GOD! Don't stop!"
 The embarrassment of being so blatantly exposed in front of a witness sent
another jolt of fear through him... one that intermixed with Holly's furious
call for boldness on his part. There was nothing else for it- he had to commit
to completing this act of lewdness, and do it without caring that he was being
watched. If anything, he had to enjoy the attention- revel in deserving it. In
thinking this through he had built himself a mask, a persona to help him bluff
through this experience.
 Harry swelled up like a Greek hero, undaunted and bold as bronze compared to
this poor mortal watching him. He doubled the force of his thrusts into his
lover, clutching her half-clothed body to him with steely strength. He spared a
hand to reach up and rip open her tunic and then sunk his mouth onto the tender
flesh of her undulating breasts.
Her short, sharp wails of rapture were heralding his impending moment of
majesty, released. He drove into her relentlessly, like the pounding of a
battering ram destroying a castle gate. He leaned back and roared as he
orgasmed, yet sustained the rhythm of inexorable penetration for the sake of
his lover, until his own muscles locked in place in protest.
It took a full minute before his body finished pulsing into her. When he could
unlock his stance, Harry relaxed just enough not to fall to pieces.
 He looked to Holly and discovered that she was trembling in his arms, her legs
suffering tremors in trying to stay locked behind his back. He could feel her
inner muscles still clamping down on him, even as he softened.
 As he started to relax his arms, Holly gasped out, "N-n-no, don't let me go.
Hold me, Harry. Hold me tight, right here."
 A minute passed.
 Holly's shivers abated and she nodded that he could let her down, which he
did.
 The young oriental was still standing there, though his rubbish bag had fallen
open to the ground, spilling onto the alley floor. He said, "wow."
 Holly coughed and then said, "If you're done enjoying the show, maybe you can
get us some Beef Lo Mein and an order of cream cheese puffs. Harry?"
 He turned to give her an incredulous look, then shook his head.
The man reflexively pulled an order book from his apron and wrote in it. "Name
for the order?" he squeaked.
 Holly snorted and replied, "The two people fucking in the alley, who aren't
Members of Parliament. 'Alley', for short."
 He turned around and re-entered the building. When the door closed behind him
they both fell to their knees, laughing.
 Harry gasped out between laughs, "Are-- are we really-- going to-- wait for
the food?"
 "Yeeeeaaahhh, why not? Besides, that order should take ten or fifteen
minutes..." She began to crawl towards him with a hungry look that threatened
to bring Harry's cock to life again. Sadly, his trusty tool was feeling raw and
reticent.
 "You're insatiable," he marveled.
 "Perhaps," she replied, "Won't know for sure without testing my limits."
 "But I've reached mine. Sorry, Holly."
 She scowled. "Need to train you up a bit, I think. Now, show me your
knuckles."
 Just by her mentioning it, Harry felt the pulses of pain across his hand
return. They straightened out, buckled up or repaired their clothes as needed
and then sat together on a collection of milk crates. Holly tended to Harry's
hand with bandages and Essence of Murtlap retrieved from their satchel.
 Eventually the oriental man came back out, carrying their order. He was
holding one hand in front of his eyes, though he moved it aside every so often
to check his footing and surroundings. Once he realised they were decent he
handed the sack to Harry, who handed him two ten-pound notes. Harry then held a
finger to his lips to indicate why he was overpaying so much.
[[]]
 Using transit from London out to Surrey wasn't quite as entertaining as the
Knight Bus, but it was more direct. Holly and Harry were traveling out of
London at mid-morning, when most were headed in or already there, so their
train ride was blissfully uncongested.
 During the ride, Holly gave Harry the holdout wand made of Ash she'd taken
from Macnair- this one didn't respond to her either, but Harry was able to get
a few sickly green sparks from the tip. This made sense, Holly explained,
because Harry had defeated him. She also mentioned that the wand should be
ignored by the Ministry sensors, either because it was registered to Macnair, a
Ministry official, or because he's a Death Eater who wouldn't want to be
detected. As it was contraband for Harry to even have a second wand, he stowed
it in their satchel.
 While they arrived in Surrey before noon, neither of them felt driven to
return to the Dursleys just yet. They decided instead to wander in muggle areas
where hopefully no one dangerous to them would be looking for them.
 It was a pleasant if beastly-hot afternoon they spent walking and talking
together. They shopped for muggle things as well and took an early supper at a
pizza place, though Holly drank more than she ate. At Harry's look of concern,
she explained, "I really enjoy tasting everything but I just can't stand to eat
much when the heat is such."

 Holly had insisted that they keep the conversation light and avoid any
'trigger words' that might grab the attention of those in the know. That still
left plenty to cover about life, friends, enemies and fools.
 And then Dudley found them.
 "Oi! Potter! This your new nanny?"
Harry and Holly both groaned. Dudley had caught sight of them before they'd
seen him, or they would've avoided the encounter.
Harry answered, "Duddiekins, if anyone needs babying, I think it's you. Have
you and Vernon even eaten since I left yesterday?"
 Holly said nothing but wrapped her hands around Harry's arm in a girlfriend-
ish way. Dudley looked at her and then at Harry, then back at her.
 "You're weird like him, aren't you? Or did he use his... thingy on you?"
 They burst out laughing at the double-entendre.
 "Oh, Dudley, like you wouldn't believe," said Holly, "His thingie is...
awesome!"
 Harry cackled but also blushed a little.
 "How'd you know my name?" Dudley asked with suspicion. "What's he been sayin'
about me?"
 Harry felt a chill, and realised that they hadn't worked up a full cover story
for Holly. He stepped forward and waved away Dudley's concerns, saying, "She's
seen your picture is all. She asked who it was and I told her you were known
far and wide as Diddly-duddiekins. Very wide."
 He looked back, expecting Holly would appreciate the wordplay. Instead, Holly
had stiffened up, her stance strangely unstable, as if she was having problems
balancing. Harry turned around to fully look at her and was shocked to see how
wide her eyes had opened.
 Holly looked past him towards Dudley and hissed, "Run. Run home, Dudley. Now!"
Her voice warbled as she urged him, "I mean it! Run home, now! You have no
idea..." Tears were streaming down her shaking face.
 Harry felt a cold wind that made him shiver and heard the barest echo of a
scream in the back of his mind. That, with Holly's odd behavior and an
encroaching dread fit the last piece into the puzzle for him.
 "Dementors? We all have to run! Holly! Come on- why are you standing there?"
He grasped her hand- it was cold as ice, the limb swaying loosely as if numbed.
She looked down at their joined fingers and grasped tight. Then, unified in
intent, they broke into a run.
 Rain crashed onto them in sheets, when the sky had been clear just minutes
before.
 They ran for blocks upon blocks without pause, finally ducking into the
shelter of a stone bridge over a bike path. Both were breathing too hard to
speak. A minute later, Dudley's fat legs splashed their way under the bridge as
well.
 Harry looked to Holly. When she could manage it she said, "Cast it now,
Harry."
 "I don't have Macnair's--"
 "Fuck the rules, Harry! Cast it before they fiii--- no! No, get off me you
fucking bastards; don't touch me, let go of me!"
 Harry's momentary confusion cleared up when the scream returned to his mind-
Holly was re-experiencing the worst memory in her life, just as Harry was
beginning to. The scream in his head was louder than ever before, louder than
he thought a mind would remember.
 And then he realised that he was hearing that scream for real, from Holly. A
second later a massive black cloak swooped into their shelter, enveloping Holly
completely. Before he could react, a second Dementor grabbed him from behind,
its frozen claw around his throat shocking him into action.
 He'd drawn his wand but couldn't focus past the freezing-and-choking feeling.
He saw the dementor opening its hood. He saw the other dementor still on top of
Holly, though its flurry of motion gave him hope that Holly was still fighting.
 But then her scream stopped. The dementor rose from the ground and floated
towards Dudley.
No. No, she can't have-- I won't lose her!
 He had a vision of Holly's face, trembling in post-coital bliss and imploring
him, "N-n-no, don't let me go. Hold me, Harry. Hold me tight, right here."
Expecto Patronum- he didn't even have to say it.
 White light like an exploding star erupted from his wand, filling the
underpass with a brilliance to banish all shadows. It coalesced into a vaporous
white stag that trotted from one end of their shelter to the other.
 The Dementors had either fled or dissipated, Harry honestly couldn't give a
fuck which. Dudley was still whimpering on the ground and therefore un-Kissed,
so Harry dashed to where Holly had fallen.
 Holly was gone. Only her rain-drenched clothes remained, as if she'd been
completely consumed.
 
[[[]]]
 
***** Fidelity *****
Chapter Summary
     Rage-Harry makes an appearance, but can you blame him?
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 : Fidelity
 
 Harry felt numb... for about three seconds. Then he heard Dudley whimper, and
rage rose within him, sharpening all his senses.
 He turned to his cousin and yelled, "Get up, Dudley! We need to get out of
here."
 When he got no response, Harry strode over to him and kicked him in the leg.
 "You stupid, fat fuck! Get up! If we'd ran sooner, she might still be here.
I'm not letting you waste that."
 Dudley whimpered again.
 "GET YOUR FAT ARSE OUT OF THE GUTTER!"
 Harry had grabbed hold of Dudley's shirt as he said this, and thus was
surprised to see his cousin scramble to standing; he was half expecting Dudley
to take a swing at him. Seeing him standing at attention like a soldier was
even more disconcerting.
 "You following my orders?"
 Dudley nodded.
 Harry let go of his shirt and said, "Pick up those clothes."
 Dudley trotted over to where Holly's clothes lay, bent down and collected them
all into his arms, then stood back up.
 "We're running back home. Don't drop those." Harry retrieved the satchel Holly
had been carrying and the two ran back to Privet Drive through the rain.
                                      oOo
 Noise
 He'd been hearing it and he'd been making it.
 The Ministry's noise was especially painful, if it was true, and the noise
from others (also delivered by owl) had only created more noise by conflicting
with what had already been sent, recanted, revised and restated. Harry was to
be castrated, magically speaking. Of course, it was all very politely written.
 Harry's response wasn't:
 Get me out of here before I kill someone. - Harry
 The noise from Vernon was expected, and Harry had ended it quite promptly
using a silent Stupefy. After casting a silent Patronus but being cited for it,
Harry wasn't thinking he could 'sneak beneath the radar' like Holly had
mentioned, he simply didn't care to hear Vernon's noise but enjoyed the
challenge of being noiseless himself. They were already threatening to snap his
wand, so really what difference would it make? Only later did it occur to him
that he could've used Macnair's wand if he was being smart about it.
 Dudley had stopped obeying him when they'd reached home, but even if the
effect had worn off, the knowledge that Harry had done that to him meant Dudley
kept well out of his way. Harry hadn't been sent any noise on that exercise of
magic, but he also hadn't used an explicit spell- just vocal commands backed up
with force of will.
 The noise quieted on the outside but filled his head on the inside. Since ...
losing... Holly, it felt like nothing could control the noise. A part of him
wanted to believe she was out there and would come back for him. That part
wanted to go looking for her but didn't have the first clue where to go. So he
stewed, waiting for a miracle, a rescuer or for his head to finally explode.
 Three days later, friends and allies of Professor Dumbledore came to escort
him to their secret hideout. Riding his broom hither and yon over London was a
sweet relief, but not quite the thrill that it used to be, BH. Before Holly.
 What little peace Harry got from that excursion ended when he arrived at
Grimmauld Place. Noise from portraits, noise from mothers (and not even his, or
a version thereof), noise from clumsy girls and pushy friends and taunting
brothers of friends...
 The sole calm voice Harry had found was from Sirius.
 When Harry protested about being stowed in a room with Ron (a noisemaker at
night if ever there was one), Sirius offered his own. "I'll sleep in the dog
bed. I usually do these days."
 When he kept getting interrogated by his friends and members of the Order of
the Phoenix, Sirius sent them away, advising them within earshot of Harry, "Let
him come to you."
 Sirius listened. Harry had decided to trust him, so he told Sirius -some- of
the details of his 36 hours with Holly. Sirius answered that epic story with,
"Merlin, Harry! I would've done just the same, and no regrets, either." He
understood.
 Sirius even offered him hope; "Dementors don't eat people, Harry. If they did,
I'd have seen it. I can imagine that your friend Holly might've Disapparated
from under the Dementor, but it'd take a will of iron to focus that much.
Leaving the clothes behind isn't that remarkable, if they were just muggle-
made. In fact, there's an excellent jinx you can use to --"
 "We got them at Madame Malkins, specifically so they could get enchanted
later. Except for the hat- that was from the consignment rack, and it's
definitely enchanted to store stuff. Do you really think she might be out
there?"
 "Makes more sense than anything else. Problem is-- she won't be able to find
this place."
 "Holly's smart. She'd find a way. And since Hedwig likes her I've sent her out
to look for Holly. We'll just wait for a message."
 But no message had come, and Hedwig came back from each venture with nothing
to show for it but a bellyful of rodent bones.
 Operations of the Order of the Phoenix were happening regularly, another
irritant since he and the others still of school age were excluded from even
discussing this important work. Instead, they cleaned.
 It was on such a pointless task that Harry had reached his limit, and decided
to break ranks.
 They'd been sent into a room with ceiling-high velvet curtains that evidently
were infested with dozens of doxies. He, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins had
been armed with spray bottles and kerchiefs to remove the pests. Sirius, ever
his salvation, walked in right before they were supposed to begin their
assault.
 "Sirius, do you even like these curtains? I mean, this place is already a
bleeding Black Hole of Calcutta; how much velvet must we save?"
 Sirius looked at the curtains and then at Harry. "Do your worst."
 With a feral grin, Harry pulled out his holly wand. First was a glacius to
freeze the curtains, making them more of an obstacle for the doxies than a
warren. He next opened and dumped out his bottle of Doxy-cide at the base of
the curtains, then stepped back. As expected, the fumes drove the creatures out
into the light, and Harry shot them with a variety of hexes, all of which were
sufficient to knock out or dismember their targets. The curtains suffered
burns, tears and spatters from the spells, but that was gratifying in its own
way.
 The minute Harry started, Fred and George had shared a sly smile and joined in
on the target practice. Ginny cheered Harry on, but then ran upstairs to get
her own wand so she could join in. When Ron went to follow, Hermione stopped
him with a hand and a whisper, "Let him do this."
 Ginny returned, and just as she was taking aim, her mother and Remus strode in
and...
 ... made noise.
 "What on Earth are you doing, Harry? The Ministry is already after you--"
 "Mrs. Weasley, shut it! They're going to take it anyway, so I might as well
enjoy my wand whilst I can, right? Besides, if no one can find this place,
there's no way the Ministry will be notified, no way for their owls to deliver
warnings, no way for people to keep lying to me about what I can and can't
do..."
 The impact of the resulting shouting match can be summed up as follows:
 Molly Weasley left, in tears.
 The Weasley children had resorted to spectating, except when Harry was raging
at them. Since that was rare (except for Ron), they mostly cringed and bore
through so they could see the rest of the spectacle.
 Ron and Hermione made several practical and reasonable explanations and
suggestions that generally went unheard or at least unheeded.
 Sirius, for being diplomatic, had immunity.
 Remus was the last true opponent, for he had every reason in mind and ready to
deploy as to why Harry's behavior had been intolerable and juvenile, and that
he should trust in his friends and allies.
 Harry replied, "How can I trust you when you left me to rot for a decade!
Sirius couldn't help it- he was in Azkaban! WHERE WERE YOU?"
 A new voice interrupted, "Oh, for God's sake, Harry, stop being such a twat to
everybody."
 Harry reeled toward the door and bellowed, "What the fuck do you know about
it?" When he stopped squinting to emphasize his anger, his jaw dropped.
 Holly grinned, shrugged and replied, "Nothing, Harry. That's why I know you're
being a twat. You're yelling at me and I just got here. By the way, I borrowed
a robe again. Hope you don't mind."
 She was really there, and wearing his old robe. Her hair was now a deep cherry
color and she wasn't wearing glasses, but it was otherwise exactly the woman
he'd--
 Harry vaulted two sofas and an end table to get to Holly's side, and as soon
as he did, they hugged like family reunited after a disaster.
 Taking her back into his arms was like being cleansed. Harry was reminded of
pictures from the Great War of trench fighters- that was the level of muck he'd
been slogging that touching her was washing away.
 Harry leaned back from the hug and kissed Holly soundly. At first one might
mistake it for familial delight, but Harry held onto Holly's face, encouraging
her to open her lips for a deeper wordless discussion. Holly pulled his hands
down by the wrists and leaned back, giving Harry a patient smile. She said,
"Harry, you're upsetting the children and redheads in the room."
 "You're upset?"
 Holly pulled a lock of her hair before her eyes and exclaimed, "Dear God, I've
gone burgundy again!"
 Harry snickered and said, "I like it. It's very... eye-catching."
 Holly smacked his bum for that and then gave him a look.
 Even without years of living as mother and son, Harry could recognise that
sort of look. He then turned to face the rest of the room with one arm still
around Holly's shoulders.
 "Everyone, I'm... I'm really very sorry for being..."
 "A twat," Holly offered.
 "... a twat to you all. This is my Aun-- er, my friend ... I mean ... this is
Holly. She's here to help." Harry then grinned wide.
 Ron sputtered, "Geez, Harry- it's like she's purged an evil spirit out of
you!"
 Holly tilted her head, then said, "Well then, I hope you can trust in my good
intentions towards Harry."
 "Not so fast," Remus said. "I, for one, am more than a little concerned with
just how you came into Harry's life, what you've done with him and how you
possibly could have arrived here."
 "Sucks to be you then," Holly snarked, "'Cause I only answer to Harry." She
turned his way and said, "Any questions whose answers you'd like to share with
the audience?"
 Harry hugged her again with one arm and then stepped back so he could get a
good look- drinking from the visual well of Holly before it might run dry. He
then remembered to ask, "What happened? Where have you been?"
 Holly gulped, paled and then replied, "I've been trapped in Hell." She steeled
herself, straightened her spine and then tipped her head back to make a defiant
sneer. With an overplayed high society accent she drawled, "I s'pose it was
maaaarely Purgat'ry, since I was able to depart on the merits of my
extr'ooooodinary charms."
 Harry snorted a laugh. "Yeah, but where?"
 Holly dropped her act and said, "Stuck down the gullet of a dementor, Harry. A
nice little portable Azkaban for Holly. Because I'm so special and God loves
me." She was briefly overcome with tremors, but Harry hugged her to him again,
chasing away her chills.
 "And just how does one get out of a dementor's gullet?" Remus challenged.
 She looked to Harry, who nodded for her to answer. Holly looked down at her
hands. She spoke in an even, normal tone, a tremble of emotion yet sneaking
through; "I'd fallen into a void, but the m-memories kept returning to haunt
me, time and again. I've suffered through this in the past, but it took me a
while to discipline my mind since it was under constant assault.
 "When I could think straight, I remembered Hedwig and made myself a little
Patronus of that memory. Well, with that poison in its gullet, the dementor
spat me right out." She sighed in remembered relief and then added, "As soon as
I was free, I came here. Had to find a robe first, then followed the sounds of
the screaming baby." She then glared at Harry, who paled and looked suitably
ashamed.
 "A wandless Patronus?" Sirius scoffed loudly at that. "Not possible."
 Holly tilted her head and squinted at him. She then closed her eyes, cupped
her hands together and concentrated. Light shone out between her fingers from
the center. She raised it up to her mouth and whispered, then rotated her hands
to curve under the ball of light, revealing a wispy white owl the size of an
apple. It fluffed its wings and lifted off, gliding a circuit around the room
before settling on Harry's shoulder.
  The little owl Patronus said with Holly's voice, "Time flies like an arrow;
fruit flies like a banana," then dissipated like smoke.
 Ron looked doubtful and asked, "What is that supposed to mean?"
 Holly quipped, "Obviously, I'm a Marxist."
 Hermione let out a guffaw. Holly turned to share the laugh but Hermione
blushed and recovered her composure, sending Holly a defiant scowl to declare
her allegiance to the others.
 "Yes, the Marx brothers, very droll. But how did you get here?" Remus pressed,
exasperated, "This place is defended by numerous Black Family protections and
obscurements, capped off by a Fidelius Charm cast by Albus Dumbledore,
himself!"
 "Harry's here," she stated, as if that was all the explanation needed. Holly
then leaned over to whisper in Harry's ear, "I'll be around."
 She turned back towards Remus, opened her mouth as if to say something... and
disappeared.
 Fred and George whistled in harmony, then said, "Oh, she's good."
 Harry grinned and replied, "You have no idea."
 Kreacher wandered by, mumbling something in his signature croak.
 "Did anybody catch that?" asked Ron.
 "'We're all stupid to be fussing so much over a guest' I think," reported
Ginny. "He's more than a bit nasty. Sirius, why do you keep him around?"
 "Because letting him retire means cutting off his head to join his
predecessors, and I wouldn't want to give him the satisfaction."
 Ron shrugged, "If you don't take it personally, he's actually sorta funny.
Kinda like Harry's been."
Harry might've been offended by Ron's taunt an hour prior, but now it only made
him smile.
                                     [[]]
 Harry returned early to Sirius' room to sleep that night. Part of him was
emotionally spent from the day's rapid changes in fortunes and feelings. The
other part of him was just... giddy. When Holly appeared next to his bed,
giddiness won out.
 He sat up and slipped his legs out from the covers to stand, saying, "Holly!
I'm so glad--"
 "Shhh!" she warned. She then bent low and stalked around the room, eventually
making it over to Sirius' desk. With her back to him, Harry couldn't see what
she was doing, but it became evident when a spiny petrified urchin arced back
over her shoulder. It landed directly in the middle of the dog bed- where
Padfoot yelped into action upon being nettled. A second later, Sirius himself
was standing next to the bed, rubbing his belly.
 "That hurt!"
 "Whiner," she retorted. "Now, Mr. Black, would you do us the courtesy of
allowing us the room? I'll come get you when it's safe to return."
 Sirius made some grumbling noises, but Harry could see the smile buried in the
protests. Sirius even gave Harry a wink as he exited into the hallway.
 Once Holly had closed the door behind him, Harry asked, "So... you're not
staying?"
 "Why do you say that?"
 "You said you'd tell him when he could come back."
 "And I was careful to give no estimate on that. Could be sunrise, could be
Saturday, could be September. Wand handy?"
 Harry had hidden the ash wand since coming to Grimmauld Place, but his own
holly wand was easily drawn from where he'd stowed it between the mattresses,
handle poking out just an inch.
 "Better than under the pillow, I suppose. Set up some privacy for us, then.
Portals and then walls- ceiling and floor as well."
 "A lot of caution," Harry said while casting the spells, "Is this for their
sake or ours?"
 "Ours. I promised you the truth. I reserve the right and opportunity to lie to
everyone else until their ears bleed."
 When Harry was done with the spells, he joined Holly sitting on the bed. They
clasped hands and shifted so they could face each other- Holly reverting to her
indian style lotus position and Harry with one leg folded and the other
dangling to the floor.
 "But you weren't lying downstairs, right?" he asked.
 "Nor was I telling the complete truth," answered Holly. "The most effective
lies are hidden between truths and reasonable explanations. As my partner in
crime, it's best if we get to hear each others' lies to maintain consistency.
If you doubt me about this, just ask the twins."
 "So what were you lying about?"
 "Well for one, I didn't think of Hedwig to save myself. I thought of you."
 Warmth spread in Harry's face and chest. He couldn't help but smile. Holly
added a kiss to his clasped hand just to put a ribbon on the gift.
 "I thought of you to cast my Patronus, too," Harry said, "It was amazing- I
didn't even have to say it. Which was good, 'cause the dementor had me by the
throat. But seeing you disappear... I've been in a rage for a week."
 Holly reached up and brushed a lock of hair from over his scar. When she did,
there was a sound that echoed in his head, getting louder, but it went away
before he could identify it.
 He felt her hand against his cheek, cooling a prickly heat that had crept out
from the base of his skull.
 "And now you're calm. Harry, there's more to this than just you being a
hormonal wizard. I don't want to say what I think until I know more."
 It was like a switch had been flipped. Harry seethed, "Oh, not you too! When
are people going to start telling me the truth, and letting me play a part?!
It's my Goddamned life!"
 "Hang on, hang on, hang the bloody fuck, on!"
 Harry was breathing heavy and startled himself at how much energy was pumping
through him. He was drawn out of this amazement when Holly splashed water into
his face.
 "You will chill out and you will listen, Harry; I AM tellling you the truth
and I AM getting you involved. What I am not doing is setting you off to worry
about something that won't matter for months or years, when I could be
completely wrong about it."
 "Sorry. And sorry for saying sorry."
 "No, for that bit of drama, you should apologise. Anyway, I don't have all the
facts and I'll need to talk to others about things. Is it going to bother you
if I ask your friends about you?"
 "Why are you asking them when you could ask me?"
 "Perspective. They've known you a while and can spot when things are
different. Who do you trust?"
 "You. Sirius, mostly."
 "Thank you, but that's really backwards. Even I don't think you should trust
me so easily, though I am, of course, a delight and utter treasure. But, you
don't know enough about me. I've seen darkness. I've done dark things."
 "Yeah, but... you tell me the truth. You tell me things that are relevant. You
taught me an incredible amount of stuff in just two days."
 "Hopefully it's the right lessons, but I'm sure others would disagree.
Besides, we've barely scratched the surface. Now, if someone'd asked you a
month ago who you trusted, what would you have said then?"
 "Ron, Hermione, Sirius, the other Weasleys (except Percy) ... and some of the
Professors at Hogwarts."
 "Your friends are all here. They haven't broken any vows, have they? They
didn't promise one thing and do another?"
 "Maybe not, but if I had been in their position with them in mine, I would've-
-"
 "Stop right there. You're blaming them for not knowing your mind, or not being
you. It's unreasonable." Holly sighed. "Just... let go of your righteous
indignation for a little while. Take a breath. You're safe enough for the time
being."
 "I am so glad you're here."
 Harry leaned forward and kissed her. They kissed deeper. When Harry moved
forward to increase the passion of it, Holly leaned back, leading him to crawl
forward until he was propped above her where she lay on the bed. Her expression
wasn't eager.
 "Is something wrong?" he asked.
 "I've been living my worst memory for the last week. It's a mood killer. I
want you, Harry, but please... tenderly."
 "I can do that. We don't even have to-- I just can't stand not having you with
me, tonight."
 "I'm here, and I'll be here until you fall asleep." A devious smile grew on
Holly's face. "But until then, I have a challenge for you."
 "Yeah?"
 Holly nodded towards the side, to indicate he should lay down next to her,
which he did. She then touched his cheek, bringing out the warmth there as he
often reacted when she touched him. She slid her hand down his arm to take hold
at his wrist, then guided his hand up to her face so she could kiss each
fingertip in turn. His thumb she wrapped her lips around, making a gentle
suction around it and bobbing it into her mouth to be teased by her tongue a
few times, and then she pulled it out of her mouth with a pop, leaving it
covered with a thin sheen of moistness.
 "Challenge is this- use this hand which I have anointed with my blessing,
though the other one can help... and touch me. Touch my whole body, every
square centimeter, until you figure out where I'm most sensitive. For this, I
will give you a reward."
 "Oh?"
 "Something you'll like, but a surprise- I don't want you distracted from your
current task. If you need me to change position, tell me how I should move.
Like remote-control Twister."
 Harry leaned up next to her, propping his head up with the non-blessed hand.
The first step obviously was to undress Holly. He untied the belt of her
borrowed robe and tossed the end to fall over the side of the bed, dragging the
robe open at the waist- Holly's pale creamy skin shone in the moonlight,
particularly in contrast to the dark fabric. Harry grabbed the far lapel still
covering her breast and tossed the rest of that half of the robe wide open.
 "Let it fall, and pull your arm from the sleeve. Rest it over your head."
 She did so.
 He sat up in the bed, then pulled the robe open on the near side as well. Her
curves lay exposed, reminding him oddly of a painting of a moonscape he once
saw.
 "Sit up, extract your other arm from the sleeve."
 She did so. Holly stared at him as he concentrated on her, saying nothing.
 Harry rose up on his knees next to her, giving him a height advantage. He
moved his hands up to her face, then threaded his fingers through her hair,
massaging her scalp, accompanied by Holly's 'hmmm' of pleasure. He continued
this, changing his angle of touch to ensure proper coverage, then moved on to
her face. Feeling the contours was interesting, but Holly only responded when
he stroked her nose- she wriggled it. He found a ticklish spot behind her ears
that he liked, and slid his hands down her neck to her shoulders. Certain spots
on the neck and collar made her shift in how she sat.
 Harry decided to save her breasts for later, and asked her to lean forward
instead. Stroking down her neck and back also elicited some 'hmmm's, and he
found another ticklish spot near the small of her back where two dimples belied
her muscle tone- Holly had soft and feminine skin, but tracing the corded
muscles beneath with his fingers reminded him that Holly was no wilting flower.
 "Lay onto your back, arms above your head."
 Harry was really enjoying himself. It was bloody erotic, but also mentally
stimulating- a game of concentration and observation, requiring more than a
little self-control.
 His trek along her legs revealed several very interesting twitches and
giggles, and her feet had an astounding mix of dead zones and vulnerable spots.
He only traced the legs up past her knees, and then had a notion.
 "Flip over onto your front. Arms however you like. Legs spread a bit, ... a
little more, Holly."
 He traced the legs again, but this time let his fingers trail up along her
thighs, first on the outside and then on the inside, until his fingers tickled
near her warm apex. Just to taunt her, he shifted his touch to scratch lines
across her bum.
 Holly's gasp was a nice reward. He tried another path of dragging his fingers
across her bum and got a nicer one.
 A moment of curiosity struck him, and he grasped her arse, spreading the
cheeks open. Holly let out the beginning of a moan but held it in. Her pucker
was a little pink, but the rest was entirely clean pale white skin. Harry also
noticed that he had a nice view of her folded labia. They were slightly parted,
and he could see the glistening of fluid lining the slit of her not-quite-
closed nether lips.
 He'd get back to that. When he let her bum flesh go, Holly groaned in
disappointment.
 "I already know you're sensitive there, Holly,"
 "You bratty little tease," she groused. "Call me Hols if you like."
 "Hols, like in Christmas holidays? Sure, Hols."
 He resumed tracing her skin, racing up the side of her body to her armpits,
which caused quite a shiver. He teased the very sensitive skin outside her
breasts and up to the armpit once more, which generated an actual laugh and
much squirming from his subject. To settle her down, he said, "Lift up so
you're kneeling, and keep your forearms on the bed.
 Holly made a very alluring catlike move to stretch her backside up and curve
her spine so that her head lifted from the mattress but not her breasts.
 "Cute, Hols. I want feel your tits dangling, so..."
 She petulantly slid back and forth until she had arrived at a doggie style
kneel, her back pitched down, in order to keep her forearms flat as commanded.
 Harry stroked along her arms and out to her fingertips, mostly just to be
thorough. He then rested his chest on her back, embracing her from behind. His
hands started at her collar and swept back and forth, crossing her breasts an
inch-wide band at a time. Her nipples weren't the only part that made her gasp,
and the action had served to disturb her stiff posing. Her thighs were moving
against each other, lower legs making little kicks to keep her balance.
 "Stop moving around so much."
 "Can't help it, Harry. You'll just have to keep up. Or wrangle me into
behaving."
 Harry's fingers crossed the skin beneath her round tits, making fast progress
across her belly, approaching the skin between her hips. Harry discovered a
weak spot- a nerve along a muscle running from belly to groin that when stroked
made her whole pelvis shake.
 Holly gasped aloud, surprised as well. Harry taunted her by stroking there a
few more times and then finished the downward journey with a rub to her mons.
 He sat back on his heels, just looking at Holly poised there, waiting for his
touch, his command. She was well-stimulated- her body twitching every so often,
or feeling a tremor that would make her shift her hips or cause a clench in her
stomach muscles.
 "Y-you know you h-h-haven't finished yet."
 "What, you mean this?"
 Harry leaned up and slid his hand down from the small of Holly's back, between
her bumcheeks and into the tight region between her thighs, cupping her vulva
and slipping his middle finger to part the lips until the tip poked right at
Holly's clit. She convulsed, spreading her legs wide and flattening her body to
the bed.
 Harry kept rubbing there, his whole hand now covered in lubrication.
 Holly moaned like a cat in heat. After a pause for breath, she said, "Yknow
I'm n-not usually such a leaky faucet. You do this to me, Harry. You make me
the fucking river Evans."
 Harry slid his hand down and back, down and back, moving substantial fluid to
every crevice and curl of Holly's privates. Her moans didn't stop, but they
sometimes formed words.
 "Mmmmuuuuhhh, GOD! Nuhhh... ssss... oh bloody stars that fuck ahhhh..."
 Harry rubbed a few more times and then inserted two fingers into Holly's
opening. Her body convulsed again and Harry could feel the fingers being
strangled by her clenching core.
"Ohhh God, cumming, I'm cumming. I'mmm-- Ahhhnnn!"
 Harry was hard as a rock. He said, "In a moment I'm going to replace these
fingers with my cock. Are you--"
 "Oh, fuck yeah I'm ready; just take it slow and go deep."
 Harry felt her privates release their death-grip on his fingers and so pulled
them out. He shuffled behind her and replaced those cherished fingers with a
warm dry todger that ached for her tightness. He had an inch in but stopped
when Holly hiccupped, then shuddered.
 "Hols, are you--?"
 "More."
 Her flowing lubrication was dripping down over her clit- he caught some and
slathered it around his shaft, then he slid in his rod another few inches until
a second clenching grabbed him too tight to advance.
 "Oh God, oh GOD, stop there a sec. Ohhhhhh, sweet merciful mmmmm..."
 The squeezing abated and he went deeper. Deeper. Deeper.
 Once inserted to the hilt, Harry gave her a little jab that made her yelp. She
looked back over her shoulder at him with a mischievous squint.
 Holly took a moment to breathe, then she shifted her hips in a wide circle,
drawing her own inner channel to twist around Harry's buried cock. The
stimulation was something he knew he'd never forget. Without meaning to, his
stomach clenched, pulling him forward and retracting his penetration a bit. He
drove his cock back into her just in trying to maintain his balance.
 Holly giggled. "I have such tricks. Now give me a nice slow fuck."
 The language set him off as much as anything. He orgasmed, sending his hips on
automatic, pounding short paths out of and into Holly's cunt.
 "Or j-just go for it. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck me, Harry... That's it, Harry...
I want it all, Harry... Don't hold back, Harry, Harry, Harrreeeeee!"
 He rode through his climax and kept churning into her until he reached a
second one. He felt Holly clench through her own orgasm partway through, so her
relative calm when he finally finished cumming was understandable.
 They disengaged, then flopped their sweat-soaked bodies to the mattress.
 They warbled out at the same time, "I surrender," which started a bout of
giggles for both of them.
 Harry's was a joyful release. Holly's ended up causing a lip-biting aftershock
orgasm.
 When it was done, she nudged forward until their faces were close enough, and
then kissed him quite thoroughly.
  They lay facing each other in the moonlight entering from Sirius' one window,
staring for a timeless moment.
 Finally, Harry asked, "What's my surprise?"
 "Oh... that. I won't renege but maybe you'll appreciate it more tomorrow. You
look dead-tired."
 "Yeah. Okay. Holly?"
 "Yes, Harry?"
 "I love you."
 Holly squinted as if pinched. She leaned in and kissed Harry for a minute. She
then said, "You are a beautiful man, Harry. You have a beautiful soul, and I
love you for it, but don't fall in love with me. It's a death sentence."
 "Do you honestly think I can help it?"
 "No. I suppose not."
 He could see her eyes glistening, despite the shadows.
 Holly made a grim smile, and then whispered, "Get some sleep. I'll watch over
you."
 "Will you be there when I wake up?"
 "Of course. You may not see me here, but I'll be around."
                                        
 
***** Guidance *****
Chapter Summary
     Holly makes some allies at Grimmauld, and gives Harry lessons in
     other things than sex
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: Guidance
 
 Holly opened the window to clear the air from Sirius' room. The warm night
chattered with crickets and the distant sounds of a few autos passing nearby
while on their own night-time purposes.  She sat down on the floor next to the
bed.
 She spent an hour just watching Harry sleep. Perhaps it was an indulgence, but
since being tormented in her own living nightmare for a week, her perspective
had shifted. Now she was stuck between two imperatives- preparing him for the
future as fast as possible or giving him the best life possible for however
long she could, until his destiny caught up to him. It was a challenge either
way.
 And only in the second case would Harry falling in love with me be part of the
bargain. If asked, would he be willing to die young just to stay in my arms in
the meantime? Of course he would- that's love. Stupid, noble, unconcerned for
the future- love is eternal because it exists in the moment. Wow, have I fucked
up.
 Then again, he won't be torturing Riddle as much if it isn't meaningful to
him.
 Harry was asleep, drifting safe in his contentment, and Holly yearned to float
with him within that timeless appreciation of 'now'. Yet she knew she wouldn't
be able to sleep- Holly expected no respite for her soul, and her body didn't
want to let go of consciousness, even when she'd tried to relax and sink into
her thoughts.
 In one sense it was a relief, for surely if she were to fall asleep her mind
would once more consign her to the same six hours of hell that the Dementor had
forcefed her, again and again, until the worst moments became very easy to call
up for any number of reasons. If someone said 'hold this', Holly would halfway
expect the next feeling would involve her arm twisting out of socket, followed
by... a series of cruelties, so familiar now that they resembled a ritual.
 These quiet hours at least provided her some time to reshelve those horrors in
her mind, sealed beneath some new ones of being with Harry.
 No rest for the wicked, wicked witch. Of the West. Of Pecos...
 It was the chime from a grandfather clock three floors below that triggered
the end of her meditation. She got up, found Harry's trunk in the moonlight and
unlike earlier when she'd grabbed his old robe (and that was mostly for the
humour value) this time she chose the huntress togs, adding a cotton undervest
as a concession to others' expectations of modesty. Harry had cleaned and
folded the clothes with much care. Her riding boots were also in the trunk,
dried and polished, but he'd done such a thorough job on them that she decided
to leave them there so she could gush about it later.
 At the thought of 'gushing' she gave a sidelong glance over at Harry, bit her
lip, and then grabbed some cotton knickers as well.
 Leaving Sirius' room, she was surprised not to find the large black dog
sleeping outside the door.
 Sirius must have found a different place to curl up- very considerate of him.
And awfully trusting. I suspect a prank is in play.
 Holly stopped in a loo for a quiet wash-up, dressed and then headed down to
the Black family library. Outside the sliding wood door, she passed by the
clock that had chimed earlier and made a mental note to have someone with a
wand disable the crossbow trap housed within.
 Some of the books she wanted were found exactly where she'd seen them in the
past, others were on completely different shelves- a testament to the nature of
time, she noted. Both chaos and conformity fought to influence the world,
sometimes with wildly different or impossibly similar outcomes.
 Holly had taken to climbing the shelves to reach the uppermost selections.
Without the summoning charm to assist her, she was in for some exercise. She
congratulated herself on having the foresight to leave the boots back in the
room- her bare feet provided extra grip for her more acrobatic retrievals. She
periodically heard Phineas Nigellus' portrait grumble in protest, and snickered
back at him every time.
 Thinking of the old headmaster prompted her to seek out a different treasure-
she knew of a dagger that should be stuck behind some chronicles of pureblood
ancestry on the shelves above the casement door. She couldn't ascend directly,
and knew that the sliding library ladder was enchanted to fling most anyone off
of it. Instead, Holly charted her path as having to climb one bookcase, stretch
across a painting to grab at the frame of another, then hold fast to the wood
shelves and hope that they were anchored to the frame by more than the weight
of the books on them.
 The ascent was easy enough, and passing across the painting only was
interesting in the reaction of the occupant, Cygnus Black, who made slurping
noises as she stretched her body across his face. Holly shifted to gripping the
underside of the destination shelf, swinging her body up to find a hold on a
side panel that then decided to become very splintery. Holly grimaced and bore
through the pain, pulling her body up until her eyes cleared the edge of the
first shelf. She sacrificed her lower grip to shove some books out of her way
and caught hold again. A glint of silver taunted her from the shadows at the
back. Again she shifted her weight, this time to rest her whole forearm on the
shelf. She swept her arm, pivoting at the elbow, stretching her fingers out to
claw this or that book out of the way.
 "The next time--"
 Sirius' voice so startled her that she lost her grip completely, shrieking as
she fell to the floor. Instead of hard wood, she found herself landing in his
thankfully softer and yet resilient arms.
 "B-beg your pardon?" she gasped out.
 Sirius had groaned when he caught her but refused to fall down, instead
crouching to cushion his catch and then rising to hold her up bridal style. He
grinned and said, "I was saying, 'The next time I cast a Patronus, I'll be
thinking of this moment'."
 Holly blinked several times, then gave him a petulant look. "Not for holding
me in your arms so much as watching my bare legs and arse beneath my skirt
flailing about in mid-air, right?"
 "I'll have to try both, and see which means more to me."
 He stared into her eyes, then leaned his face towards hers as if tentatively
hoping to steal a kiss. She stared back, an attempt to discern from within his
stormy grey irises what he truly intended. As much as she was trying to sift
his surface thoughts, she could feel him probing hers and was surprised to
realise that he had no trouble moving past her initial defense- it tore away
like tissue.
 Explains why the dementors worked me so hard-- I'm sorry, Mr. Black, did you
want to see something specific?
 His forward motion halted.
 She cleared her throat and then said aloud, "Assuming that you don't want to
break Harry's heart, may I suggest that you put me down?" The flash of guilt
across his face changed to a glimmer of relief. He bent down and set Holly back
on her feet.
 "Thanks for the catch," she said, "even if the fall was your fault. Shouldn't
you be busy keeping Lupin distracted? It is a full moon."
 "Ah, he has... other company. What were you doing up there?"
 "Attempting to retrieve a goblin-made dagger that's stuck up there."
 Sirius swung his wand up at the bookcase, then looked annoyed.
 Holly said, "Yah- goblin-made, therefore un-Summonable. Just tilt the shelf
with a... what is it? Proclino? Inanio?"
 "Invergo," Sirius incanted. Books and dust dumped out onto the floor, followed
by a silvery dagger with a leather-wrapped handle that Holly snatched from the
air as it fell.
 "Most appreciated." She then held it out for them both to inspect. It had a
wickedly-grooved cross-section meant to open wounds that wouldn't close. The
blade was etched deep with runes as well, promising extra pain for any victim
of its bite.
 "That used to belong to my cousin, Bellatrix."
 Holly shuddered, then nodded.
 "I see that you're familiar with her, and not as a friend."
 Holly nodded again, then put the dagger in Sirius' hand. "This is for Harry.
If I get a chance, I'll teach him how to use it."
 He held the weapon up and shook his head, "Just one more reason I like you."
 "Do you? Enough to try and steal me from your godson?"
 "I... misread you. I apologise."
 "What were you expecting?"
 "An opportunist. Someone who figured she could seduce the famous Harry Potter
and profit by it somehow. You seem quite comfortable with your body, so I
expected you to use it to get some leverage with me." Sirius set the dagger
into a nearby display case, whispering a command that made the locks latch shut
once the door was closed.
 "And yet you left me with Harry to have my wicked way with him?" Holly gave
him a sidelong look, then noticed a flat bulge in the pocket of his smoking
jacket. She said, "Oh, I see. You were watching us the whole time using those
hand mirrors you and James made in school. Must have been quite a show for
you."
 Sirius turned and gaped at her, feeling at his pocket to confirm the mirror
was still there. He then gave her a sheepish shrug.
 Holly kept a sober expression- she understood that he did it to keep an eye on
Harry, but she wasn't going to smile in approval for the invasion of privacy.
 "Even if I was right about you being untrustworthy, I wouldn't want to spoil
Harry's fun," Sirius said in his defense. "You aren't here to murder him or you
would have done, the day you first met. If instead you're a con artist... well,
you've just found your way back in, haven't you? It's too soon for you to grab
and dash."
 Holly nodded. "That's a fair theory, given that the truth is a difficult pill
even for me to swallow. Now, what has he told you about me?"
 At Sirius' gesture they sat down in chairs near the library's empty fireplace.
"That you're his Aunt from another... timeline." He shook his head, not quite
in disbelief. "One where you acted in his place, and thus know many things
about his life and those near and dear to him. Admittedly, you do seem awfully
familiar with my library- moreso than Harry or Lily could be. And you're very
familiar in appearance as well- like Lily's short sister but with James' nose
and jawline. It's almost spooky."
 "You want to talk about spooky- most of the people I know here are dead, you
included. It's wonderful to see you, Sirius, though you don't seem quite the
same as the man who adopted me."
 Sirius raised an eyebrow- she could tell he was taking her sentimental
reference as an attempt to manipulate him, and chastised herself for bringing
it up.
 What was I thinking? No one will care what I feel in all this- it's not their
problem. What's more, it doesn't exactly engender trust to point out that I
know more about them than they expect me to. This is a Hermione-style mistake.
Where are my filters- where is my cunning?!
 "What I can't quite understand," Sirius continued, "is why you would seduce
him. As Lily or as Lily's sister, as a gender-switched Harry, or even as a
stranger interested in making a play for him; it doesn't make sense. It was too
soon, too certain."
 "I have my reasons," Holly said, "both for why I did it and why it doesn't
squick me."
 "I'm sorry- 'squick'?"
 "A squeamish ick-response. Something I should be incapable of feeling after
all that I've been through. As for why I did it, let me ask you this- I assume
that you 'Order of the Phoenix' lot have a spy in Riddle's camp, probably Snape
if patterns follow; has he reported that his Dark Lord has been ill of late?
Suffering from migraines and having sudden bouts of rage, followed by a desire
to be alone?"
 "Yes he did, but you knowing this doesn't help your case. It makes it seem as
if you're coordinating with him."
 "I'm not. What I know is that Harry is connected to Riddle through his scar.
I'm sure he's mentioned it- visions of Riddle's actions and pain when they get
close, like in the graveyard? Well, that connection works in both directions.
When Harry feels love, Riddle feels it too, in the worst way. If things are
similar, and it sounds like they are, every moment of ecstatic joy for Harry
stabs that evil bastard in the balls with a hot poker. First instance was 2nd
August, right?"
 "Yes, the same day--"
 "The day I arrived, by the end of which I had taught Harry the joys of the
body. Second time was mid-morning the next day. The times should match up, and
I'll bet Snape comes back with report of a rager from a few hours ago."
 Sirius let a smile escape as he said, "Our spy already has, in fact, reported
that his subject is... ailing once more."
 "Making Harry happy is, in fact, a weapon against Mr. 'Voldemort'. I promise
you, Sirius, that I am on Harry's side. I doubt I could've shown up in the
Dursley's garden if I wasn't."
 He appeared thoughtful, then whispered, "And now Harry says that he loves you.
Do you love him?"
 Holly reeled back and stared at the man, trying to find a glib reply, but
instead she blurted, "Y-yes, but... I can't."
 "We both know every reason why you shouldn't have bedded him, and yet you did.
Why is it that you can't love him?"
 "I'm not supposed to be here! I'm an accidental intruder. Harry is meant for
some other girl, or worse, I may have screwed up his destiny by robbing him of
virginal sanctity."
 "You don't really believe that, do you?"
 "About the sanctity of virginity? Well, no, not on a biological level, but
destiny is another paradigm of meaning, by definition."
 "You even talk like Lily. I am so very tempted to trust you."
 "Well, I have to trust you. I'd want to anyway but from what Harry says,
you're the only adult around here who understands him aside from me. Shouldn't
we at least be partners in protecting Harry's interests?"
 "You'll pardon me if I insist upon a 'limited liability partnership'. I need
to keep some of our secrets from you. Remus will be ringing my ears later for
even giving you this chance."
 "Keep whatever secrets you'd like. Just let me know if it looks like I'm
making a decision based on a mismatched memory."
 "Alright; allies, for now."
 Sirius offered his hand, and she shook it. Holly then slumped back in her
chair, her shoulders released their tension, and her head canted backward
against the cushions in relief. "I was beginning to think no one but Harry was
going to believe me. It's a lonely place, as I think you know."
 "I do." She heard the pain in Sirius' reply, but he covered for it quickly by
musing, "Yet unlike my situation, I don't think the truth will ever help you
win peoples' trust."
 "Oh, I know," Holly groaned. She then lifted her head and said, "If it hadn't
been Harry asking when I first got here yesterday, I would've drummed up a
story of memory loss or coincidental names- we had a neighbor in Little
Whinging named Evans, with two small boys- that would've worked. But... I
promised to tell Harry the truth, and now thanks to Florean it's become a geas.
Sneaky bastard made me swear three times- I should've remembered that one but
it seemed like such a playground type of oath."
 "The ice cream man? I've never thought twice about him- that is sneaky. Well,
let's come up with a more plausible story for people to swallow that won't
catch you out if you can't lie."
 Holly perked up and asked, "Really?"
 "I'm going to keep my eye on you," he warned, "but everything you've said to
Harry so far has been sound advice- why not get the others off your back, so
you can really teach him something?"
 "Excellent! Okay." Holly thought for a moment, then said, "There's the basics
we can't deny: I am related to Harry as an Evans. I've lost my wand and can't
use any others, so far. I'm here as a tutor..."
 "At my invitation! I hired you to teach Harry, since I couldn't leave here to
teach him myself... by the way, you're hired- five Galleons per day spent
tutoring plus expenses; room and board provided when possible. How would I know
to trust you, though?"
 "Lily might have mentioned me, maybe in a letter you didn't see until you
returned here. 'I have this cousin whose daughter recently had a bout of
accidental magic...' etcetera."
 "Can you write in her hand?"
 Holly looked doubtful. "Eh, you'd think so, but I lost the knack. Give me a
sample and I could do a reasonable forging job, I'm sure."
 "I'll find an old letter. She loved writing letters."
 "If you have enough of them, I know some nifty ink magic that'll rewrite what
we need just fine."
 "Hah! Ink magic? You're talking to an expert."
 "Oh, right- Marauder's Map. You know, there's a small fortune to be made in
adapting that for sports events and securing safehouses."
 "I already have a small fortune."
 "Yes, but you don't have a job, aside from housesitting and watching my arse,
both of which you seem to have covered."
 Sirius gave her a curious look, though she decided that it may not have
actually been for her; Holly could tell his gears were spinning, and a weight
seemed to lift from his shoulders. He was about to rise out of his chair when
he shook his head and said, "Let's concentrate on you for now. So, you were
Lily's younger cousin, but not in the U.K. or you'd have gone to Hogwarts."
 "Ireland, then. I'd offer Belgium but my Dutch sucks and according to one Miss
Fleur Delacour, I pronounce French almost as well as an American."
 "Harsh." Sirius gave her a sympathetic wince. "So Ireland, sure- another
muggleborn in the family but ten or so years younger, and Lily was wondering
how to reach out to you during a time of war... then we lose contact."
 "And I can fill in the blanks. The Irish academy I went to was burnt down so
I've no certs or records but I've a good grounding in the concepts and have
extensive real-world experience fighting fell beasties in Eire, both magical
and whisky-derived..."
oOo
"... and if my old girlfriend hadn't stolen my wand right before she ran off to
Canada or wherever, I'd be a bit more of a help. I just haven't found a match
since then, so I limit myself to wandless tricks- no range but plenty of
function, and I can still Apparate. Whatever else, I'm loyal to Harry. He's my
last remaining magical family, and a right decent sorta lad as well as it turns
out," Holly finished with a smile.
 Remus, Hermione, the Weasleys and a few interested Order members (who had
originally come to the basement kitchen for breakfast) looked at her in
silence. Finally, Hermione asked, "Why didn't you or Sirius just explain this
in the beginning?"
 Holly and Sirius shared a look and then replied, "Because it's funny."
 Harry was standing beside them- he smiled and nodded, adding, "It really is."
 "You don't look almost thirty," Ron said, getting whapped by three relatives
and Hermione in succession for saying it.
 "That's nice of you to say, Ronald," Holly replied with a measure of grace, "I
do try to keep fit. Thank you for noticing."
 Ginny asked, "What was with the story about being eaten by a Dementor?"
 "Oh, that." Holly ducked her head in embarrassment. "I disapparated in a
panic, and left behind some essentials- it's happened before but I thought I'd
grown out of it. Just the same, I was... mortified that I'd abandoned Harry
like that. They really do a number on me, Dementors. Anyway, I found some
resources that I'd stowed and used them to put together a way to track one of
the things Harry has- a journal I'd bought and signed with a rune. That got me
close, and then I just... figured out that I could focus on Harry and transport
in. That's the odd part. I still can't say where this is, but if Harry's here,
I'll follow. Might have to do with an oath I swore to help him."
 "And, just to clarify something," added Remus, "you're... bisexual?"
 Holly squinted at him. "Yes, but you can keep your nose to yourself in future
please, Mr. Lupin."
 "You mentioned an old girlfriend," he snapped, "I was merely paying
attention."
 Harry, who had stiffened at Remus' question now turned to give Holly a
bewildered look.
 She winced. "Did I not mention that? I suppose it hadn't come up yet. Nothing
much to say, really- I'm fond of the ladies as well." Holly watched Harry's
expressions flow through a pantheon of emotions. When his lips eventually
turned up in a bemused half-smile, Holly smiled back and whispered to him,
"We'll discuss that later."
 Whatever ease this put in Harry's mind, Holly saw the opposite reaction from
two young witches across the table. Hermione's disdain seemed to be growing
into anger, while Ginny just looked perplexed.
 Mrs. Weasley huffed and then proclaimed, "Until we've cleared another bedroom,
I think it would be best if you stay in Sirius' old room, and Harry can return
to bunking with Ronald. I assume you can be trusted to respect her privacy,
Sirius? You did hire her."
 Before Harry or Sirius could protest, Holly replied, "That'll be fine."
 The informal interview-interrogation broke up into smaller discussions, so
Holly grabbed Harry by the hand and led him over to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The
two were whispering very earnestly but quieted upon their approach.
 Harry coughed, then said, "I just wanted to say, Mrs. Weasley, that I'm really
very sorry for the things I said to you before. Holly reminded me just how much
you've done for me- opening your house and your family to me when I'd had no
family worth the name for a long time. So... yeah. I'm sorr--"
 Mrs. Weasley enveloped him in a hug, cutting off the rest of his practiced
apology along with his air supply. Holly beamed at them, then turned and shook
Arthur's hand saying, "I couldn't have asked for a better family for Harry.
Better than I could possibly have done. Thank you for that."
 It wasn't a deception, and she could hear that difference in her voice even if
they couldn't. Holly truly felt that Arthur and Molly had done wonders for
Harry and for her, in her own troubles in the past. This seemed just the
smallest thing she could do to let them know that.
 ... but it didn't hurt her case when she later asked to accompany Harry and
Arthur for the trip to his hearing on Monday.
~oOo~
 "How'd you do it?"
 Holly had just stepped onto the first landing of this staircase, one of
several she had to climb up to reach the top floor and Harry's trunk, where
she'd need to separate her things from his now that they wouldn't be housed
together... officially. She turned to find Ginny staring at her, jaw set and
eyes squinting. Even her freckles seemed threatening.
 "How'd I do what, Gingersnap?"
 She advanced a half step closer. "What'd you call me?"
 "Ehh, Ginny, sorry. I knew another girl named Ginny, similar attitude and
also, not surprisingly, a redhead."
 Hermione stepped up from the staircase below to block Holly from retreating.
She demanded, "How did you get Harry to fall for you? From what I gather, it
took less than a day. That's awfully fast, especially for someone like Harry
who keeps people he doesn't trust at arm's length. Did you dose him with
something? Trap him with a ritual, maybe?"
 Holly turned and smiled at the frizz-haired witch, then asked, "Are you
harbouring feelings for Harry?"
 "What? No!"
 Mrowr! Protesting awfully loud- is that for Ginny's sake or your own? Of
course, given how close we used to be, it makes a certain sense that you'd be
drastically different. You seem so much younger to me here, Hermione.
 She'd stared at Hermione in silence long enough that Ginny countered, "But I
am."
 Holly turned to face the younger witch. "You're probably suffering from
saviour-itis."
 "I am not! Harry is one of the best people I know. He's decent and funny and
he tries so hard to stay afloat even though his life is this... mad storm. It's
no wonder he doesn't trust people--"
 Hermione continued, "--but that just makes it doubly suspicious how you wormed
your way in. How'd you do it? What's your scheme?"
 Holly looked between them and bowed her head. She muttered, "Not here."
 The two exchanged a look, then gestured for Holly to enter their room. Once
the door was shut, Holly turned to them and said, "I'm here to help Harry. I
will take any vow, including the Unbreakable, to assure you that I mean to help
Harry win andsurvive. I'm glad that he's got such loyal friends and I don't
want to get in the way of that. If anything... I'd like you to get closer to
Harry."
 Hermione seethed, "What do you mean, 'closer'?"
 "As close as you can. The man needs love- I am not just waxing poetic when I
say that love is his armour and his sword in this fight and to date he's been
battling equipped with swimtrunks and a letter opener."
 Hermione scoffed, so Holly turned to her and said, "He cherishes those hugs
and the little peck on the cheek you gave him before the holiday, even if he
acts all guy-squirmy."
 Seeing Hermione's blush, she turned to Ginny. "You've been flying below his
radar, and it's a crime, because you actually understand his burden, having
fought against Riddle in your head--"
 "You're redirecting things," Hermione interrupted, "talking about us rather
than about you!"
 Ginny had stepped back in panic when Holly mentioned Tom Riddle, but now she
bellowed, "How do you know about that?"
 Before Holly could explain, the door smacked open. Harry stood there, glaring
at the now-silent witches.
 After a pause, he said, "Holly is here. She's important to me. I'd like it if
you could get along. Don't trust her if you want, but unless you see her doing
something to hurt or betray me, shut up."
 Holly gave him a watery smile, but then said, "It's right for them to jump on
me like this, Harry. Shows that they care. I can take it."
 "You want to fight with them? Is this another of the great mysteries of
witches you were describing, like why you go to the loo in groups?"
 "Geez, Harry!" replied Holly, "Don't mention that- they'll have me in front of
the international sisterhood, getting my mouth sewn shut."
 Hermione mumbled, "I don't do that."
 Ginny gave Hermione a nod in agreement. "Me either."
 Holly sighed. She both faced and pointed at Hermione and said, "Troll," then
changed aim to Ginny and said, "Diary."
 Harry smirked. "Looks like I'm not the only one who could learn something from
Holly."
~oOo~
 Following lunch, Holly pulled Harry away from rejoining the jihad against
grime and vermin, settling him in the library for an official tutoring session.
Sirius was lurking in the background, but he appeared to be involved in a
project of some sort if the scribbling and book flipping were any evidence.
 Holly held her hand over a stack of books on a side table. "These books are to
supplement your Defense training." She pointed to a collection, maybe a dozen
that were packed into a box. "Those books are to help you wrap your mind around
the principles of magic, so that you understand why the Professors like
Flitwick and McGonagall are teaching you things in a specific order. The last
pile has nothing to do with your classes and everything to do with magic, even
though they're all written by muggles... I think. Finding them in this library
makes that less certain." The pile she'd indicated was a stack next to Harry's
seat on the sofa, tall enough to reach her waist where she stood next to them.
Harry leaned over to check the names on the bindings.
 "Ethica Ordine of something? Meditations; The Prince; The Social Contract...
what's this got to do with magic?"
 "Everything. It's about choice and power, Harry. You have power to change the
rules- any wizard does. What these are meant to teach you are the sense of
responsibility that having that power should require. Whether to use a spell,
and how to do it, is quite literally a powerful choice."
 "Why am I being taught this, instead of everybody?"
 "Short version- because you're my only student. Longer version- you have an
unusual position in the wizarding world, Harry. You're quite popular."
 Harry frowned. "Yeah, but I'm not- haven't you read the Prophet? I'm a
nutter."
 "Oh, you're popular. You just don't know how to use it. As a dear friend once
said, being popular isn't about everyone liking you- it's about everyone
listening to you. If you say nothing, they'll find something else to focus on
and you won't be stuck in the spotlight anymore, but then you'll have missed
the chance to change minds."
 "I don't want to change minds!" Harry protested.
 "I bloody well hope you do!" Holly retorted. She gestured toward a window and
said, "They all think Fudge has things under control, and Dumbledore is a
senile fool, and Lucius Malfoy is a well-meaning philanthropist and that you're
a nutter. But you're a popular nutter. They're waiting to hear what you have to
say about it."
 "I've had absolutely no access to anyone to say what I'd want to say.
Professor Dumbledore has kept me away from all that."
 "Can you blame him? It's not like you've proven to be comfortable with
attention or clear about your message. It's in all our interests to make sure
you make sense when you start to talk publicly. Normally I'd be grateful that
you're still in school- you could find your voice in front of a limited
audience with short memories. Unfortunately this hearing has elevated you into
the professional arena, so that's why we're concentrating on this now rather
than later. The books are for later."
 "Holly, what if they convict me and snap my wand? Couldn't we just... go away
somewhere? Leave this all behind?"
 "Sure. You could give up all the power and all the responsibility that goes
with it. People will hate you for it, but that's their problem. But running
away won't keep you from having to face Riddle. He's obsessed with you. The man
can't experience sex anymore, so his way of seeking moments of pleasure is in
destroying his enemies, and he has a case of blue-balls where you're concerned.
Never underestimate the influence of sexual frustration in decision-making."
 Harry laughed at the analogy, but then his face fell as he considered how much
life would suck without sex. "He's gonna kill me."
 "Odds are he'll keep trying until he does," Holly said, "unless you put him
down first."
 "How am I going to do that?"
 "Well, not by facing him alone. This is why your popularity is relevant. At
some point you'll have to face him. Better to do it with an army at your back
than just a few loyal friends or worst of all, alone and backed into a corner."
 "An army? Does the wizarding world even have armies?"
 "Usually they only need a dozen or so trained hit-wizards to match the
effectiveness of a muggle military division, but internecine combat is a
different matter, and even for that Riddle is a special case. He speaks very
loudly with a wand, all on his own, and then he has his ... backup singers.
It'll take a lot of voices to out-shout them."
 "You've lost me."
 "I thought you were taking Divination. Did your instructor not cover Adrian &
Carlisle's 'Grand Symphony'?"
 "Honestly, if Professor Trelawney had stopped predicting my death long enough
to mention it, my head was probably so congested by incense that I wouldn't
have heard a thing."
 Holly nodded in understanding. She paced a bit, then said, "Okay, here's the
short-ish version: God is the audience, humanity are the singers and
instrumentalists that He's hearing. Keep in mind this is allegorical- the
capacity to make pleasant sounds is meant to represent your ability to change
reality, and the music is the way we make reality interesting."
 Harry looked doubtful.
 "So. Your average human can barely whisper; only en masse do they contribute
anything more than background noise; magical people actually have instruments
to amplify our sound- we can change the tune in our section of the symphony if
we play it loud enough- that's magic; overriding the usual to make things
within hearing distance change to suit your song. It's easy for us to drown out
a bunch of whispering muggles, but a bit harder when facing another musician.
Significant figures have louder sounds and can influence the music by
organizing other players to play by their tune. This is why it's important to
be able to either sing or play a stirring tune- so that others can follow your
lead. Singing is about personal influence, whereas your wand and the spells you
cast are your instrument- not as detailed in meaning but louder."
 "How is this related to Divination?" he asked.
 "Because people with 'the sight' are hearing the themes being played more
directly, and they get previews of the melodies coming up- lacking context,
though, they often misinterpret what they hear, particularly since they have to
translate it from symphonic into human language, usually poetry in an attempt
to capture the mood of the circumstance for which they're getting a preview.
 "This is particularly relevant to you," Holly continued, "as you are blessed
with a naturally strong and mellifluous voice, so a lot of people are listening
for what you decide to sing. That's not a reference to magical talent, by the
way. You having a voice is what it means to have a destiny. The seers, or
audiophiles, if you prefer, knew that you were coming and that you'd be singing
counterpoint to Riddle, but what you sing and how loud it's heard aren't
written into the music ahead of time."
 "So really, knowing magic isn't as important for me as being able to... lead a
section."
 Holly jumped up and punched the air in a cheer.
 "Such a brilliant lad! I love that you're paying attention. Yes, but the magic
matters, too, as you have to reinforce the message from your singing with some
awesome solos and harmonies, to drown out Riddle's gothic dirge. Else we'll be
hearing soulless heavy metal tribute bands so much and for so long that God may
become bored and destroy the Earth."
 If Harry held hope that learning from Holly would be much easier to follow
than his regular studies, that belief was dying quickly.
 Holly saw his expression and smiled. "Now that I've melted your brain, we'll
move on to the practical, and your first lesson in leadership- how not to lose
your shit in front of an audience... which we seem to have attracted."
 She'd looked up past him, prompting Harry to turn around- Remus, Molly, and
the cleaning crew had apparently found reason to pass by several times, and now
were making no effort to excuse their pause in the entryway as some sort of
'check-up-on-Harry' task.
 "Since you're here, could you help us out for a practical lesson?"
 With Holly's encouragement, the various Weasleys and other friends collected
on the library furniture. Holly then dragged Harry to stand facing them from in
front of the fireplace.
 "Thanks for coming, I know you're busy, but Harry here is going to describe
his last Quidditch match- start to finish."
 Harry turned to her and goggled. "That went four hours!"
 "You don't have to put in the whole play-by-play, just what you remember as
the highlights. You know the material, so just think about how you want to
start, form the sentence in your head and start talking."
 Harry tried, but every time he looked up at all the faces focused on him, he
couldn't find his voice.
 "Not so easy, I know. You feel like prey, don't you? Now that you've suffered,
I'll tell you how to work around the problem."
 Harry sighed with relief.
 "The problem is that it's you up there."
 "Yeah, I know. It's not like I can get Ron or Sirius to stand in for me."
 "Well, you could but that wouldn't solve the problem of empowering you to
speak in public. No, what you need to do is be someone else."
 Harry frowned. "But I'm always just me. I don't have a split personality or
anything."
 Ron chortled and said, "After this past week, I wouldn't be too sure, Harry."
 Holly squinted at the snickering audience and then stepped up to face Harry.
"Remember when we were in the alley, and a stranger interrupted our...
discussion?"
 Harry blushed but gave her a quick nod.
 "Instead of quailing or running away, you redoubled your efforts- really
started making your point, eh?" Her smile made his blush grow, but oddly he
wasn't feeling as embarrassed by it. Then she asked, "How'd that come about?
What happened in your head?"
 Harry's thoughts accelerated at the mention of that potent memory-sex against
the wall; the guy dropped his sack of waste; Holly shuddering in my arms (and a
spare thought for the Patronus it inspired); my hand was hurt, but I could
ignore it; the oblivious pedestrians might've noticed us any second; hang on-
the guy appeared and Holly said 'don't stop' and I had to be something more in
that moment--
 "I took on a different attitude, like an actor playing a role."
 "Exactly!" Holly enthused, "You put on a mask and let that other persona take
the risk. There's even some magic behind it- if you really concentrate, you can
feel your mask forming a shell in front of your mind. It becomes like armour of
anonymity. They aren't watching you, they're watching your shell, your puppet!
You practice that other role enough and no one will be able to tell that you're
wearing a mask. That's how you face a crowd... or a dragon. Or a Dark Lord."
 "Holly, you're always like that- as if you're immune to criticism. Are you
always wearing a mask?"
 Holly dipped her head and leaned it in next to Harry's. She whispered, "Not
always, Harry. You've seen me unmasked a few times. In that alley was once.
When the Dementors first showed up... well, they tore the mask right off just
by showing up." Her voice quavered slightly in the recollection.
 "Right- you couldn't move--"
 "Until you grabbed my hand." She smiled, kissed his cheek and leaned back.
Harry swore he could see Holly's mask settle into place by the way her eyes
turned from teal to sea green. He vowed to himself at that moment that he would
find those teal eyes again.
 Holly stepped to the side and then announced, "So, for the sake of our lesson,
howabout you think of being Lee Jordan for a bit and he'll tell us how the
match went?"
~oOo~
 Mrs. Weasley might have warmed to Holly just a little after seeing the value
of her lessons, but she wasn't going to allow Harry and Holly to have any
private moments. If the Weasley parents weren't doing the watching, it was
Hermione and Remus who kept an eye on them. No one ever said anything, but any
motion Harry made to nudge Holly into an empty room or to rendezvous with her
outside (or even inside) the loo, he would always be seen and glared at by one
of Harry's unwanted chaperones. Meeting in public areas for legitimate studies
was fine, so they occasionally traded messages in writing while conducting a
different conversation for their eavesdroppers.
 It took two full days- until the night prior to the hearing, in fact- before
Harry had orchestrated the solution for what Holly referred to as his Rapunzel
challenge. For whatever reason, Holly insisted that if he wanted her, he had to
come to her. His prior attempts had been disrupted by tripping and caterwauling
jinxes, wary nighttime parental policing, and even an unfortunate coincidence
involving Fred testing a spoiled fainting fancy that made him sing 'Wouldn't It
Be Loverly' just as Harry was ascending past their room. Harry's plan involved
accomplices, specialised equipment, misdirection and an unwary victim.
 After dinner, Harry 'accidentally' dosed Ron and himself with some slumber
powder from the twins' collection of experiments. He and Ron dropped to the
floor the moment the cloud erupted around them, and they were no doubt
levitated by one adult or another back to their beds for the night. In Harry's
case, he'd stowed a Wide-Eye lozenge in his cheek, and within an hour of being
'put to bed', the dissolving solution had counteracted the powder, and Harry
awoke. After cobbling a suitable faux-Harry to fit beneath his covers, he
disabled the spell triggers on their door with Macnair's wand and slipped out
to make his Cloak-covered way back up to Sirius' room undetected.
 Harry had opened the door and closed it behind him fast as he could, so he
didn't notice until he'd turned around that Holly wasn't sitting on the bed -
- she was hanging from the ceiling. In fact, Harry was staring directly at her
black-clad arse, currently four inches in front of his face.
 Harry was briefly reminded of the reversed-gravity effect he had encountered
in the Tournament maze, and that feeling of disorientation. Holly didn't seem
to be suffering as he had. Though her skin was flushed, she bent up to touch
her bare toes on the ceiling with a certain practiced ease. Harry gulped. Not
only was the movement delightfully provocative, but he also was admiring the
way her sleeveless undershirt and skintight bike shorts clung to her sweat-
soaked body; as if they constituted nothing more than a layer of thick black
paint on her skin. Succumbing to temptation, he reached up and pinched her
arse.
 Holly yelped and in some way must have lost her grip, as she then tumbled down
onto Harry- her legs slipping across his chest and feet knocking him in the
face. They ended up in a tangle on Sirius' rug.
 Holly sat up, then shoved him, saying, "Ow!"
 "Ow, yourself!" Harry returned, "What were you doing up there?"
 "Exercising. I managed to get a spider-touch spell to work, so I was doing
bat-crunches."
 "Is that why you're wearing black?"
 "Oh, of course- it's tradition," she snarked. "You silly yob- skirts and
button-ups are a bit impractical for this, and I always buy my underthings in
black. It hides a multitude of sins... except holes and dandruff." They
clambered up to standing, inspecting for possible bruises along the way.
 Harry muled, "Do you ever stop explaining things?"
 "Not when you've got so much to learn. I work with whatever comes up because I
can't always make these pearls of wisdom make sense without a context."
 Harry's mood turned dark. "Oh, like how you're also a lesbian? We've talked
about sex a lot, yet somehow that never came up? I saw the way you looked at
Ginny- I don't think she's your type! Oh, wait. Do you have a type or is
everyone fair game?"
 Holly tilted her head and squinted at him.
 Harry heard himself drawl, "Sometimes I wonder why I even bothered with you.
Who knows how many have seen your 'assets'. It makes me ill to think of it."
 She raised an eyebrow and said, "What's your hurry, Harry?"
 "What do you mean?"
 "You're pushing rather hard to make me angry- most people wait until after I
screw them over to call me a slut."
 "At least you know what you are."
 Holly made an evil grin and stepped right into Harry's face. She knocked away
the hand he was going to use to push her off and with her other hand she
reached up and caressed along Harry's forehead, placing her thumb across his
scar.
 Harry winced in pain. Holly leaned up and whispered, "Harry, I'm not just
saying this because you're suffering from a peeping Tom."
 "S-saying what?"
 "I love you." She then kissed him on the lips.
 Harry was about to push Holly off of him, but the words had him frozen in
shock. Holly had created some sort of strange circuit between them, from her
lips through his head, out the pulse in his forehead, down her arm, to her
center and back to their kiss. It felt like raw passion- not anger or lust or
hatred but simply emotional energy. He found his hands once more had grasped
Holly's shoulders and in reflex he pushed her away, breaking the circuit.
 He felt like he needed to run a marathon or two, possibly after a stop off to
wrestle an angry Hippogriff to the ground. "What the fuck did you do to me?"
 "Not me, Harry. I think poor Tom doesn't want another migraine. He was trying
to stir your head like a hornet's nest so we'd keep away from each other."
 "I think you're lying, and--"
 Holly had already stepped forward to press against his body and now had
interrupted Harry's thought by taking ahold of his substantial erection through
his pyjama bottoms. She massaged it through the cloth whilst snuggling up
against him, leaning her head against his shoulder.
 She whispered, "I cannot lie to you, Harry. I simply can't. Now, all that
sweating has gotten me quite randy, and I know you didn't come up here to hurt
me. Therefore, I suggest you take any leftover anger and irritation you have,
channel it into your cock and stab me with it until you feel better."
 The way Holly looked up at him said she was looking forward to being stabbed.
Harry was irritated enough that he took that as permission to ride the surge of
hot emotion rushing through him.
 He grabbed her head with both hands, tilted her jaw up and kissed her deeply.
Once she was reciprocating the kiss, he let his fingers dance a trail down her
neck to her collar, grabbed hold of her undershirt and ripped it open wide to
expose her pale breasts. Holly stepped back and gasped, her expression a mix of
surprise and wariness, tinged with anticipation. She'd let go of his cock and
held her hands up in front of her, ready to defend.
 Harry stopped himself, then said, "If you're willing to surrender to me, raise
your hands above your head."
 Holly blinked, then let her arms drift upwards, her smile growing as they
lifted higher. She stopped once they were fully extended toward the ceiling,
which made for a very vulnerable and provocative pose.
 Harry stepped forward, letting his fingers trail up her bare front to tickle
her belly, breasts, and neck and then back down again, making glancing touches
to her ribs, side, and settling at her hips. He threaded his fingers beneath
the elastic of Holly's waistbands, then peeled the fabric of knickers and
exercise shorts down to expose her white flesh- the prominence of her hips, the
round curve of her buttocks, the strong muscles of her thighs. As he let the
loosened fabric drop past her knees, he breathed in a primal scent- the residue
of her physicality mixed with something heady- a subtle and sweet perfume.
 "What are you wearing?"
 Holly stuttered, "N-nothing, anymore. You've torn my clothes away. All that's
left is me."
 "I mean the... the flavour."
 "Amber resin with honey." Her voice had deepened to a tone that induced a
tickle at the base of his skull. She added, "Care to taste?"
 Harry followed the scent- strongest at first amidst the moist crumple of
clothes around her feet. He traced it up past her knee, nudging her inner
thighs until the flavour became dense, centered amidst the deep burgundy wisps
of hair that capped Holly's mons.
 He nudged his nose to prod her damp privates, making her twitch and shudder.
 "Open up your thighs."
 Holly shifted her weight to one leg and brought the other outward, balancing
the bend with a foot against her opposite calf. This spread her nether lips
just slightly, and Harry inhaled a much stronger dose of this fascinating musk.
His tongue slipped out to glance across those lips, and he tasted. What sizzled
across his brain caused a moment of vertigo, then his tongue slipped across,
curving up to part those saturated labia and jab into her opening.
 Holly let out a cry of "God, Fuck!" and canted her pelvis forward against his
face, spreading hot fluid across his cheeks. She moaned as Harry continued to
lap and stroke into her.
 Her breathing became shallow and Holly whined, "I bet you can taste how close
I am to climax. Make me come, Harry... oh, please... pleeeease!"
 Three, maybe four strokes in and a little wriggle across the-- hang on; how
did my tongue reach up to her uterus when I'm nudging her clit with my nose?
 Holly cried out and Harry became distracted by her core muscles squeezing,
quivering against and otherwise embracing the length of his unexpectedly long
tongue.
 He leaned back and looked up at her. She was still holding her arms above her
head but her body was twisting and shifting in place, no doubt struggling to
stay standing while her thighs trembled through her abating orgasm.
 He stood up and leaned his body against hers, thus pushing them both against
the wall. He grasped at her breasts, flicking and pinching her nipples. He
nudged her face aside with his own, hissing into her ear while she let out
short gasps into his. "~You set my mind afire. Every time we're together, my
world changes. You're like a spirit of madness and chaos...~"
 "I'm here, I'm hot and I'm so ready for your cock--"
 Harry couldn't remember releasing her breasts to doff his bottoms, but in the
space of a blink he had her pressed against the wall, holding one leg up
beneath the knee and was slamming the aforementioned cock into her wet cunt by
the time he realised that her breasts were bouncing freely against his chest.
 It was an odd position. He had Holly pressed up so tightly that the leg that
he wasn't holding was barely touching the floor- his pounding into her was the
only other thing holding her up. At first she held her arms above her head,
gasping and whining at the ceiling in supplication, but Harry's insistent
piston was stealing her strength, and she had to wrap her arms around his neck
instead.
 She mewled, "Oh-God-oh-fuck-I'm cumming again already? Hnnnnnyaaaahhh!" and
then bit her lip as Harry felt her walls spasming around his cock. He slowed
down his entry and watched as Holly rolled her eyes and shuddered, her climax
stretching onward now that her core had something to reliably clamp onto. Still
he slid his cock in and out, never ceasing the stimulation.
 Holly rolled her head around and then hopped up to wrap her dangling leg
around Harry's waist. Her whole body clenched forward and she keened in
rapture.
Harry let her enjoy this until her body relaxed, then he swung them away from
the wall and dropped forward onto the bed, dislodging their joining. Holly
shuffled around on the mattress to get more of her body towards the center, but
Harry trumped this motion- he grabbed her at the ribs and shoved her the extra
foot, then moved his hands from there to crawl across her breasts. He kneeled
forward and sank down to feast on her breast flesh, inducing Holly to take long
deep breaths, interrupted periodically by a moan.
 Almost as an afterthought, he nudged each of her thighs open with a knee.
Holly took the hint and slipped a hand down to grab his throbbing cock and line
it up with her entrance once more.
 Harry continued to kiss and gnaw on the tender skin around her nipples, moving
his pelvis forward just enough for his cocktip to tease at her entrance.
 Holly giggled.
 "What?"
 "Never would have expected to want a man's manhood stuffed deep into me so
much that I'd be willing to beg."
 "You're going to beg?"
 She leaned back, thrashing and whinging like a child, "Plee-eee-eee-ease Ha-a-
a-ar-ry, stick that in and FU-U-U-UCK ME-EE-EE!"
 Harry smiled and obliged her. He slapped into her hard enough that she
hiccoughed.
 Soon their aggressive rhythm was pumping at full rage and it didn't take much
longer until he felt a twinge deep within him and slammed his cock into her, up
to the hilt. Climax rushed through his body and out into hers. It was a
different kind of circuit than what he'd felt earlier- softer, sweeter and
strangely cleansing.
 Holly threw her arms out to the sides and arched her back, thrusting her teats
up, too close to his face to ignore. Harry could still feel most of his body
concentrating on his cock pulsing into her, but summoned enough self-control to
act. He nuzzled one breast and then bit on the tip. Holly screamed.
 Her orgasm continued for a bit longer than his, but he wasn't jealous of it.
oOo
 They made love. Slower, faster, based only on touching... Harry even got her
to orgasm just by tending to and taunting her breasts. In the cool-downs, they
would talk about nothing important- favorite foods, jokes, pranks they'd seen
or done.
 Eventually Holly called a ceasefire and ordered Harry back to his own bed;
'Appearing in court looking shagged-out might win you some fans', she'd said,
'but it's not going to impress wrinkled old officials or your enemies.'
 Holly had to drag him out of the bed and only got his cooperation when she
agreed to sneak back downstairs with him. They made their way back to Ron's
room undetected (despite a few magic traps that Holly noticed and Harry
disabled).
 Standing next to his bed together, Holly hugged him, then said, "I think we've
prepped you as well as we can for this, given the time limits. Except for one
last thing."
 "What's that?"
 "I owe you a reward."
 Harry looked at her curiously, then watched as she knelt down in front of him,
until her forehead was touching the floor. She rose up to her knees and then
shifted forward, almost seeming to lose her balance because she reached up to
catch herself by grabbing Harry at the hips.
 Holly stopped. She turned her face upwards from where she kneeled in front of
him, looked at him almost as if suffering some pang of need, and then used her
grip on his waist to slide his pyjama bottoms and underpants down his hips. She
wrenched the waistband around his arse and forward enough for his cock to slip
out. Harry hadn't been expecting anything like this, but in the last ten
seconds his cock had gotten the idea before the rest of him had caught on. It
was swelling to hardness and when it flopped out, Holly caught it by the head
with her tongue. She balanced it there for just one long second, and then she
twisted her neck around to draw his cockhead into her mouth.
 What an extraordinary sensation! Her hot mouth, the feeling of her breath
sneaking past her not-quite-closed lips, the sweep of her tongue around his
cockhead- Harry nearly lost the strength in his legs from how stimulated he'd
become.
 Holly's agile tongue continued to swirl about his cock in her mouth and even
slipped between the folds of foreskin to tickle some very sensitive areas right
near the tip. She shifted around by the neck and shoulders, changing the angle
that her mouth had on his cock, and he groaned at how it affected him.
 Her slim hands slipped up- one to envelop his cockshaft and guide its
position, the other reaching up to caress his hip, his stomach and drag her
nails across his skin, following the thin trail of hairs that led from his
navel down to where...
 Where Holly was sucking his cock.
 Realisation crept over Harry's brain. This wasn't anything he'd ever expected
from her, as if it were contrary to her nature somehow. To see her worshipping
his erection, caressing it like a lover and making sounds he'd only ever heard
when Hermione ate chocolate (which triggered a realisation of why he always
gave her something from Honeyduke’s for a gift), it made him feel coveted.
 Holly, who loved him, was sucking his cock for no other reason than for his
pleasure. He was her world.
 Holly glanced up at him as this sentence burned into his brain. Her tongue
slowed its motion, her guiding hand fed the cock deeper into her mouth and she
moaned, the vibration twittering at the back of her throat just as she was
rocking her mouth forward, pressing his cocktip against the buzz of her moan.
 If he could've said something, he would have.
 He felt his balls clench like fists, and his cock nearly exploded with white
furious rapture, shooting his cum into her throat. His hips jerked and Holly
jabbed her head forward with the motion, her hand now pumping his shaft in
counter punch to the fierce, consuming, swallowing, ravaging action of her
throat, tongue, and mouth around his spurting cock.
 Harry couldn't keep standing, but Holly held his nightshirt taut in one hand,
aiding his slow collapse to the rug whilst still consuming the living lava she
was voraciously sucking from his manhood.
 Once he was set down to the floor, Holly's cockbobbing slowed into a tender
cleansing of his still throbbing todger. Over the next minute, she ensured with
kisses and licks that Harry's cock knew it had done well and was appreciated
for its performance.
 Holly finally let go of his privates, leaning back up to lock eyes with Harry.
 "That is the best blow job I know how to give. Thank you for not grabbing my
head."
 "I... cn... whut... "
 "Sometime tomorrow, they will try to make you feel small- so small that you
can't possibly threaten them. An insignificant and disgusting gnat that they'd
squish beneath their boot if you wouldn't look so pathetic afterwards.
 "If and when that happens, you just remember this moment when I was sucking
your cock and you felt like a God of Stone and Fire. Because I wouldn't do it
for anyone else in the world, Harry. No one."
 Harry gave up on trying to speak and just basked in the feelings. Holly smiled
at him and stood up, tightening her silk kimono around her body. She moved to
walk out of the room, shrugged, and then disappeared, leaving Harry to his
bliss.
~oOo~
 
***** Headmastery *****
Chapter Summary
     Whenever being judged by others, always strive to keep your head
     mastered
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 : Headmastery ]]
Harry was having a tough morning. He'd not slept for long, so he drank tea as
breakfast until Hermione upgraded him to coffee. This brief buzz led him to
bounce around the kitchen, knocking over nearly as much furniture and dishware
as Tonks, who was there complaining of a late night also. Perhaps to save the
kitchen, Mr. Weasley suggested they should be on their way.
Holly met them as they were heading out the front door; Harry sprinted with her
to the Underground station, winning by a few car-lengths despite having to heft
his outer dress robe folded over his arm, but once they were boarded he
promptly fell asleep. He awoke with his head in Holly's linen-skirted lap,
roused due to her insistent nudge on his shoulder, and still was not nearly as
rested as he'd hoped.
Mr. Weasley led them into the Ministry by way of a quirky faux phone box, while
commenting how strange the process was for him as well since he'd never come in
through the 'visitor's entrance' before. They descended into a mob, bustling
and queuing throughout the Atrium. Mr. Weasley was intercepted by a white-
haired wizard who whispered into his ear then disappeared into the crowd
without a backward glance.
Concerned by his soured expression, Holly asked Mr. Weasley, "More puking
toilets?"
"Worse," he replied, "They've changed the time and location of Harry's hearing.
I'm not entirely certain we can get to Courtroom Ten in time."
Holly must have recognised the destination, as she told Harry, "Aren't you
special- you're going to be tried by the whole government!"
Harry twisted around to gape at her and said, "That is notfunny."
She took a moment to straighten the collar of his dress robe and button it
properly for him. "Did you think I was teaching you to speak to groups just so
you could have a private chat with Madam Bones? The Ministry controls the
Dementors who attacked us- they're trying to silence you, one way or another.
Of course you're going to be railroaded."
"Now, now," assured Mr. Weasley, "It's just a hearing."
Harry wasn't buying that. "If things go as they want, they'll be hearing my
wand snap."
Mr. Weasley chose not to argue the point and instead led them forward, trading
quick greetings with other colleagues so they could hopscotch through the
bustle. They were caught up at the visitors' check point when Holly got into an
argument, protesting that she couldn't possibly be the first witch to enter the
Ministry without a wand. Rather than hold them all back Holly begged off, but
before they separated she tugged Harry's arm and said, "When you get down
there, go to the loo."
"What? We're already late!"
"So it won't matter if it's five minutes or ten; go to the loo."
Harry bent close to her and asked, "Is this so we can... rendezvous, or--?"
"Harry, you had half a vat of caffeine before we left and we've been riding
transit, which is like having your G-I tract massaged. You're about to stand in
front of people who want to intimidate you. What's more, in a panic situation
the body wants to evacuate non-essential weight which is why frightened people
sometimes soil themselves. The last thing you want is to be standing there
trying to look reserved and mature but yearning to pee like a racehorse at the
derby gate -- Go To The LOO!"
He and Mr. Weasley made their way down to the deep hallways of polished black
stone leading to Courtroom Ten. Despite Mr. Weasley's look of worry, Harry
followed her advice. A few minutes alone getting himself buttoned up and
centered proved to be quite helpful. He might've stayed in there longer, but
fatigue had mostly overridden his anxiety. He just wanted this trial over and
done.
[[]]
Harry took his seat in the provided chair- a bare wood thing that Harry had
last seen in Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve when he learned how the Crouch
family had fallen from grace. It hadn't changed much in fourteen years. He was
asked to confirm his identity then the Minister spoke pompously for several
minutes. Harry tried to pay attention but something unusual about the acoustics
made it difficult to hear details whenever the Minister turned to address the
others in the high seats.
"... which is why I urge you to take this boy's testimony with an ear to
finding the truth beneath the lies. Nonetheless, we shall abide by the sanctity
of our laws and allow Mr. Potter a word or two to defend himself."
If he were fully rested, Harry might have bolted out of his chair in protest.
Instead he settled for noting that Minister Fudge was most certainly not hiding
behind a cultured veneer, which meant Harry might be able to use good manners
to appear more reasonable. He then heard another voice down in the pit near to
his chair, one that filled him with both relief and irritation.
"Witness and advocate for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian
Dumbledore." Professor Dumbledore exchanged pleasantries with the muttering and
disgruntled officials, conjuring a chair for himself no doubt to remind
everyone why he was important. Harry had to think through why he was annoyed by
the Headmaster, eventually deciding that he'd expected his mentor to have at
least met with him well before now, given that Harry's life and freedom were at
risk.
Professor Dumbledore's presence seemed to affect the timbre of the Minister's
voice. There was a bit of byplay where Minister Fudge tried to excuse his
manipulating the circumstances of the hearing, but Professor Dumbledore acted
like he wasn't surprised or bothered. It rankled Harry, but he shoved that
thought into the same mental pocket as his indignation over the Minister's
other lies.
Fudge then returned his attention back to Harry. Just as he posed the first
question, Holly's voice rose up in the back of his head, reminding him of her
lessons over the last few days.
Stick to the truth, Harry. This is no time to improvise. Only tell them what
you saw and what you did. Don't guess.
Harry was questioned on the simple matters of his casting the Patronus, with
much emphasis made on the fact that Dudley was there to see it. Even so, the
Minister would only allow Harry to give a yes or no reply before jumping into a
related question. Dumbledore was doing nothing but watching and Harry could
feel his anger growing.
Stop. That's what they want you to do- make a childish outburst. You're not
Harry. You're Patronus Potter. Don't lose your mask.
"Mr. Potter, answer the question; did you cast a fully-formed Patronus?"
Harry stood up from the chair. He felt the anxiety fall back in his mind as he
let his commanding self take over.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Nowhere, Minister," he replied, "In school we are taught to stand if we have
something to say."
"This isn't school, Mr. Potter. Sit down."
Harry ignored the order and clasped his hands behind his back.
Good- you don't want to be waving your arms around, and you'll appear taller
and more at attention. Now, if they're treating you rudely, call them on it but
don't whinge.
"Minister, I'd like to give my full testimony to this assembly. As a favour,
would you mind not cutting me off at least until I reach the end of a
sentence?"
Shift the focus to things you want to add to the debate. Remember to lock eyes
with individuals if you can- make sure they see that you're looking at them,
finish the phrase and then look straight to another person in your audience.
Everyone will hear you but you'll let each one know that you want them
specifically to be listening.
He turned towards the stern-faced witch wearing a monocle and said, "To answer
your question, Madam Bones, yes, I cast a fully-formed Patronus; mine appears
as a stag. It's the only thing to do when facing Dementors. There were two
there, and my cousin - the muggle witness - wasn't going to be much help. He's
seen magic before but knows nothing of Dementors. He wanted to punch them, even
though he couldn't see them."
Madam Bones asked with obvious surprise, "What would Dementors be doing in
Little Whinging?"
"They were chasing after us, Madam. I didn't stop to ask why." That earned him
a few titters.
The Minister gave a sanctimonious chortle. "Oho, and now we see how the lies
are so well chosen- your cousin couldn't have seen them, so you have no
witnesses, making it your word--"
"Holly was there as well. She can attest--"
"Who?"
Harry paused to take a breath then replied, "My tutor, Holly Evans. She was
with me. She actually told me to cast the spell once we'd found shelter beneath
the bridge--"
"We have no record of this. Are you now inventing people, Mr. Potter?"
"She's sitting up in the Atrium right now. If I invented her, I did a very good
job of it."
Dumbledore - finally - spoke up, "That would change the nature of this incident
greatly, Minister. If an adult witch was present and instructed Mr. Potter to
cast the spell, the responsibility for breaking the Statute, if it were broken
at all, would fall entirely on that witch."
The Minister started fussing and dismissing any interest in waiting, but
Professor Dumbledore reminded the man that at a minimum the law allowed Harry
to call witnesses. A pair of Aurors were dispatched, guided by Harry's
description; "She's a short redhead with glasses, wearing a blouse, skirt and
boots. Probably the only one up there not heading anywhere."
While they waited for the Aurors to find Holly, Professor Dumbledore fenced
with the Minister about the Dementors and suspicions on who would have ordered
them after Harry, if they even existed. Harry sat back down in the
uncomfortable chair, hoping he hadn't done more damage in trying to save
himself. If Holly were discovered as being non-existent until the day before
the incident- well, they might be impressed that Harry really had invented a
person, but he was sure they'd only mention it while sentencing them bothto
Azkaban.
[[]]
Holly was sitting at the edge of the fountain, leaning back with her glasses
off to absorb the simulated sunlight. Her reverie was interrupted by a large
shadow stepping into her light and pointing a wand at her.
"Are you Holly Evans?" the bulky man asked.
She squinted up at him. "Will my answer determine which spell you're about to
cast?"
"No. You've been summoned to appear at a hearing."
"In that case, I'm your girl."
Holly stood up and brushed her skirt straight, then looked up, ready to follow
the wide man towards the lifts. She recognised him a second too late.
Macnair? Oh, fu--
"Stupefy," he whispered.
[[]]
Harry had been getting more anxious as the Minister and Dumbledore argued. They
kept going over whether the Dementors had attacked them, and Harry couldn't see
why they wouldn't just accept his testimony.
"Excuse me, Minister. May I ask a question?"
"What is it, Potter?"
"If you could tell I cast a spell and you could tell my cousin Dudley saw it,
why can't you tell that the Dementors and my tutor Holly were there as well?"
"The Trace alerts us when you've caused magic to happen. If you use a wand, the
spell is logged."
"Then how did you know my cousin saw it?"
"Mr. Potter, I see no reason to explain the details of our systems of
detection, if it's only to help you work around our laws."
"That's just it, though. I'm not trying to do anything to anybody. If I'd
wanted to use a spell on my cousin, it certainly wouldn't be a Patronus. I
could think of a hundred better spells to use on him after all the times he and
his friends beat on me."
Madam Bones asked, "Are you saying your muggle cousin has assaulted you in the
past and you didn't use magic against him?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I know the rules and have done since I found out about magic when
I was eleven; I knew it wasn't allowed. Yet despite everything he's done, I
didn't want to see Dudley suffer from what Dementors do to a person."
"You've shown admirable restraint for one so young."
"Thank you, Madam Bones."
Another official spoke up, "Are you saying you knew nothing about magic until
you were eleven?" followed by yet another that protested, "That's preposterous!
Everyone knows--"
The arguing resumed, except for one unusually absent voice. Harry turned to
stare at the Headmaster, who had his head bowed.
The Minister pounded his gavel several times until the assembly quieted down.
Madam Bones spoke before Fudge could say otherwise. "Professor Dumbledore, your
advocacy for Mr. Potter over the years has included several injunctions over
discussing the details of this boy's life. You've asserted that these protocols
were in place in order to protect the boy from the Dark Lord's followers and
'unethical hucksters who might be drawn to his fame'. What can you tell us to
clarify this situation?"
Professor Dumbledore thought for a moment, coughed and then said, "The point of
this hearing is to determine whether Mr. Potter broke the law when he cast a
Patronus Charm earlier this summer. We know that he cast the spell in a muggle
area and in front of his muggle cousin, though it is worth noting that he did
so under a bridge, out of sight from casual onlookers. Harry has stated that he
cast the spell to defend them both from Dementors who were present and
attempting to harm them. There is, apparently, another witness to the incident
who can corroborate his testimony. If such a witness is presented and attests
to the circumstances, would you not say that the matter is settled?"
The Minister cut in, "I would, but I do not see such a witness here. If Mr.
Potter says there was a witness and no witness is produced, then I believe we
should also discount his testimony that Dementors were present, and know him as
the liar he is!"
The courtroom doors opened.
The two Aurors had returned empty-handed.
Harry panicked. He said, "Did you check the loos?"
The Aurors, both of whom were wizards, stopped and shared a look. They turned
around and left the courtroom.
[[]]
Holly woke in a small barely-lit room. It didn't feel like waking up. More like
she had been held in an 'off' state, or an empty space with no perception until
a specified but undetectable amount of time had passed, and then she was 'on'
again.
Her captor was only visible from the slit of light coming from the gap where he
was watching the corridor beyond. She had been left on the floor, her hands
bound behind her.
Once she was aware of her situation, she took care to change it as quietly as
possible. First was extending her arms to gorilla proportion so that she could
fit the manacles around her hips and legs, then a shift in her vision to see in
low light, not to mention temporarily correcting for her nearsightedness.
I'll happily take the headache later for a chance to escape now.
Holly uncurled from the floor and stalked up to Macnair, trying to judge the
best avenue of attack. She'd just spotted where he was holding his wand by his
side when he turned away from the door and saw that she was no longer stunned.
Macnair swung a ponderous arm at her but she ducked under it and then rose,
capturing his wand hand in the hinge of her manacles. She tried to pull his arm
down onto her knee to disarm him with a counter-thrust upward, but the man
grabbed her hair with the other hand and yanked her off-balance. Her clench
around his wrist tugged him down with her as she fell to the floor, but having
his mass land on her proved more trouble than it would have been if she'd left
him standing.
He jabbed several punches at her face, finally connecting hard on the fourth
swing. She felt the pain in her teeth and tasted blood, but was soon distracted
by the man flipping her face-down and pinning her chest to the floor with his
knee on her back.
He hissed a few expletives, but Holly didn't care what he thought of her. She
just didn't want to be there anymore.
So she wasn't.
Holly pulled herself up to sit on the dark stone floor in a well-lit and quite
different hallway, taking in a blessedly clear breath.
Mr. Weasley gasped nearby and said, "Holly, where have you been and where did
you come from? And... where are your clothes?"
Looking down to see her usual problem of late, Holly cursed under her breath
and turned to the kind-faced man, who was already doffing his wool outer robe
for her to wear.
[[]]
Harry was relieved to see Holly as she strode in, but noted that she was rather
disheveled and busy wrapping herself in what looked like Mr. Weasley's tweed
robe, trying in vain to tie it tight enough to not look like it was four sizes
too large for her despite the hem dragging on the floor.
"Sorry for the delay," she said with a nervous warble, "I'm here."
"Who are you?" demanded Minister Fudge.
Holly took a moment to catch her breath.
"... and what has kept you? Where are the Aurors we sent to find you?"
"No idea. I caught up with Mr. Weasley outside and he told me you were asking
for me. As to who I am, my name is Holly Jade Evans, previously of other
places, like County Cork, Ireland. I'm in England as a private tutor to Harry
Potter."
Harry appreciated the slight Irish lilt she'd added to her voice.
"What are you tutoring him in?"
Holly stood a little taller and said, "Private things. That's why we call it
private tutoring."
The Minister was caught short by her reply. He glared down at her. "You are a
witch? How old are you?"
"Well I'm certainly no muggle and as indecent as the second question is, I'll
say I'm twenty-nine. It's tradition."
"You look a bit young for twenty-nine..."
"Why, thank you, Minister! I exercise quite a bit to stay rosy-cheeked and
lively."
The man harummphed as only an official with a round belly can. His assistant
Percy handed him a parchment. He then said, "I've been informed that you have
no wand. Where is it? Was it taken from you for legalreasons?"
"It was stolen by a friend. I haven't found a good match to replace it yet, and
she won't return my letters, much less the wand, but that's my problem."
"Where were you taught? We have no record of you here."
"And why would you? I was taught outside of this Ministry's jurisdiction, via
schooling and apprenticeship, and my wand was a custom piece as I am such a
difficult witch to accommodate."
"Yet you are tutoring Harry Potter?"
"There's much to cover that doesn't require spellwork on my part."
"Very well," the man sighed. "Please describe your involvement in this incident
on 3rd August."
"Mr. Potter and I had been strolling about in the balmy air that evening when
we encountered his fat cousin Dudley Dursley, who started a conversation with
us. Soon the air turned cold, and I felt the creeping dread that heralds the
approach of Dementors. I warned the lads that we needed to run, which we did.
It turned a soft old day what with the sudden drop in mercury, and we sprinted
far through it, until we sought shelter beneath a stone bridge."
"Why did you stop there?"
"We were waiting for his cousin to catch up- did I mention he's a bit portly?
Also, the bridge was a fine shelter- it forced the Dementors to approach from
only two directions. Dudley caught up to us, then two Dementors rushed in. The
first one went for me, the other I believe grabbed Harry by the throat."
"You believe?"
"The Dementors had enshrouded us in darkness, as they are wont to do, so I
couldn't see anything but I could hear him making choking noises and Dudley was
wailing like a teething baby."
"And you couldn't cast the Patronus because you had no wand?"
"Right; I'd told Harry to do it. Then... I disapparated in a panic. Not my
finest hour." She gave Harry a very heartful expression of remorse. He did his
best not to cheer for her performance.
The doors to the courtroom then opened once more, and in burst a large bald man
with a bushy mustache and an ill-fitting black eyepatch. He stopped short at
seeing the assembly, then aimed an accusing arm at Holly and bellowed, "Aurors,
arrest that witch and put 'er in chains. She's the one done tore out my eye!"
Holly whipped around just as four Aurors formed a circle around her with their
wands drawn. Two of them grabbed her by the arms and cast binding spells on
her. She locked eyes with Harry, said, "I'm sorry, but I can't..."
-- and promptly disappeared.
Everyone gasped. Professor Dumbledore gasped. Clearly, Holly had done something
Impossible.
Or possibly they were concerned because she'd left the robe behind.
Macnair growled in frustration and said, "She did it again!" He was then struck
from behind by a red spell that knocked him to the ground, cast by Mr. Weasley.
The Aurors who weren't still startled by Holly's disappearance turned to aim at
Mr. Weasley. He had the good sense to drop his wand and put up his hands, but
also said, "Miss Evans mentioned that she'd just barely escaped being molested
by this man, which is why I had loaned her my robe. I hope I haven't acted out
of turn?"
Professor Dumbledore very calmly suggested, "Before we move on to this newest
altercation, may I ask if there is any point to further debate on the cause of
Mr. Potter's innocence? After all, there is no longer any doubt that Harry's
spell was cast to fight off Dementors, as his tutor has attested."
Amelia Bones officially called for a vote. The Minister seemed unable to
deflect this, as he first asked for a vote whether debate was ended, then
another vote for a possible rescheduling of the matter, before finally calling
for a vote over Harry's actions. It wasn't a landslide, but Harry was cleared
of the charges. A summons was issued for Holly in regards to Macnair, but the
officials seemed a bit stumped on where to send it, eventually handing a copy
to Harry with a request to 'pass it on'.
Soon, everyone was filing out of the courtroom, except Mr. Weasley who was
answering questions from an Auror while Macnair's unconscious body was
levitated out by two others. Harry had stepped down from the chair of the
accused but stood to the side, waiting to see if he'd have to make his own way
back to Sirius' house. Several members of the assembly came over and shook his
hand or voiced an appreciation of his manners and bearing during the hearing.
He did what he could to remember each one as he thanked them but it seemed like
none of them would stay long enough to tell him their names- as if important
people like them should be known by reputation already.
Once the last well-wisher had wandered off, Professor Dumbledore sidled up next
to him. "I don't know very much about that young lady," he mused, "but I must
warn you Harry; even if she isn't your enemy, she is not your friend."
Harry's anger flared, but he stopped himself from reacting and took a breath.
He looked up at the Headmaster, who seemed more interested in watching dust
float in the air, and replied, "Really, sir? Because from where I'm standing--"
"I understand, Harry. I do. Sometimes it's difficult to separate what you think
you're seeing from what is really there, particularly when the illusion is
wrapped in an attractive package."
"I don't think you do understand, sir. She's done nothing but help me since
we've met. Even if she looked like Filch, she'd have my trust."
Of course, I'm ecstatic that she looks nothing like Filch. Sometimes literally.
Ha!
Professor Dumbledore seemed disappointed, but Harry wasn't inclined to accept
his implied condemnation as anything but sour grapes. It didn't help his
attitude that the Headmaster had spent their conversation, indeed the entire
morning, without ever looking in his direction.
Harry noticed the Auror handing back Mr. Weasley his wand, and took that as
fair cause to leave the Headmaster's side. As he and Mr. Weasley made their way
up the stairs to the lifts, Harry told him the highlights of his legal
adventure.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley asked tentatively, "are you quite certain that Miss Evans
is a witch?"
"She just did magic right in front of us, Mr. Weasley, and she's taught me
several spells that came off exactly as she described. Why was everyone so
surprised when she disapparated?"
"This courtroom is specifically enchanted to prevent entry or escape by
apparation or portkey, as it is used to handle the most dangerous cases.
Similar protections exist all over the Ministry aside from the Atrium, but this
room in particular has been made and remade over the generations to be
inescapable. Do you have any idea where Miss Evans has gone?"
"No, but she didn't have any trouble finding me before, so I figure she'll find
me again as soon as we go back to... the place... where we go."
Mr. Weasley nodded in understanding, and they decided to return directly to
headquarters to share the news of Harry's exoneration.
[[[]]]
Ginny had cheered along with the twins when they'd learned Harry had got off.
She could tell he was distracted, though, and guessed that Holly's absence was
worrying him. Also he looked exhausted, so when Ginny suggested he take a kip
to recover, she earned a grateful smile from him.
Perhaps an hour later, she diverted from her 'trip to the loo' to look in on
him. The room he shared with Ron was mostly dark due to the heavy curtain over
the window, drawn to block the midday sun from intruding. All she could see of
him from the hallway was a lump on the mattress. Daring others' wrath, she
entered the room closing the door behind her with barely a squeak of the latch.
Her vision adjusted to the darkness and she sat on Ron's bed, watching Harry's
chest rise and fall, his messy hair even more unmanageable than when he was
upright.
Her moment with Harry was disrupted when she caught the sound of another person
taking in a very deep breath. She turned towards the sound at the end of his
bed and watched as a silhouette of a woman formed in the space, as if she'd
merely lacked enough density to be visible up until then. The woman stood there
staring down at Harry for a moment, then finally noticed Ginny and said, "Oh!
Hello." A bluebell flame lit up in her cupped hand, bright enough that they
could see each other's face. As she'd guessed, it was Holly; bare naked but
otherwise unchanged.
Ginny hissed, "Don't wake him!"
"Oh, pull the other one," Holly muttered, "After the week he's had it'd likely
take thundering rhinoceri to get him roused." She turned away and the blue
flame bobbed along with her as she sorted around the room, finally finding a
knapsack beside Harry's bed. Holly tossed the flame up out of her hand,
allowing it to wander while she fingered through the contents. She stood up
again to wrestle a dark undervest over her head, across her chest and stretch
it down her belly.
Ginny saw Holly turn and look her way. There was a pause where they strained to
see each other's face in the shadows, then Holly bent down to reach into the
satchel again, rising a moment later to wrap a striped skirt around her hips
and tie it off.
"Now that I'm decent enough," Holly said, "did you want to announce my arrival
to the rest of the house?"
"Do you want me to?"
"No rush. We can just chat here for a while if you'd like. What's on your mind,
aside from my body?"
Ginny protested, "I wasn't... I'm not--"
"You were staring," she nudged with coy tone.
She had been, though the reason for her fascination wasn't even clear in her
own mind. Ginny hoped her blush wasn't obvious in the flickering blue light.
"Not that I mind; in fact I liked it." After another discomforting pause, Holly
added, "but I'm not expecting anything to come of it. I'm just enjoying the
tease!"
Ginny could feel the blush finish its spread and felt some relief in her
breathing. "You'll fit in well here," she said. "What happened to you?"
"How do you mean?"
"Harry said you disapparated from the courtroom but left your clothes behind,
again." It felt good to tease her back a bit.
Holly sat down next to her on Ron's bed, then half-turned to face her while
still able to keep an eye on Harry. The bobbing blue flame wandered their way
to hover overhead.
"Yeah... I think my outfit got caught in some sort of security charm in a way
that I wasn't. I popped up in the Atrium right below the statue. Heard a little
girl say, 'Oooh, mummy! There's a nymph living in that fountain...'"
Her impression of the little girl's voice prompted Ginny to laugh, though she
tried to keep it quiet for Harry's sake.
"I realised that I was deshabille and up to my knees in water," Holly
continued, "so I popped again, this time landing outside the phone box entry in
the alley aboveground. Well that wasn't going to stay private for long, so I
popped a third time and arrived in my room at the Leaky Cauldron."
Ginny held back her cackling to ask, "Why didn't you get clothes there?"
"It wasn't mine anymore! It was occupied by a portly old wizard who took one
look at me and said, 'I didn't order this, but I'm willing to accept
delivery.'"
Again, Ginny had to stifle a laugh.
"I was getting tired, so rather than banter with the man, I popped then onto
the rooftop and just rested there until I could sense that Harry had stopped
moving. Now I'm finally back here in Sirius' house, wherever that might be.
Think I might have caught a bit too much sun, but at least I won't have to
worry on tan lines, right?"
Ginny continued to snicker for a bit.
Holly nudged her and said, "Glad to provide a smile to you, Gingersnap."
There was that name again, making for a sobering splash of presumption on
Holly's part. Ginny squinted at her (though her target probably couldn't see
it) and said, "Y'know, I'm not your friend, whoever she was. Which reminds me-
where do you get off saying I know what it's like for Harry to fight off an
invader in his head?"
"I'm well aware of the details of Harry's adventures, including rescuing you
from the ensorcelled Diary of one Tom Marvolo Riddle."
Ginny couldn't decide whether to be mortified, angry at Harry for sharing her
humiliation or angry at Holly for bringing it up.
Holly said, "I'm sure you won't appreciate this question but I have to know; do
you still hear Tom's voice in your head?"
Her anger turned to panic. Ginny found herself breathing hard, heart sped up,
her skin alternating between flushing and paling. She started to murmur a
protest but Holly interrupted by repeating, "Do you hear him?" The tone was
sharp but Holly's expression was full of concern.
Ginny decided to take a leap of faith, so she whispered, "S-sometimes, in my
dreams he shows up- says and does things to me. But I don't think it's really
him- just my own memories and fears about them. They didn't start up again for
me until the end of the Tournament when I'd heard he was back, whereas Harry
said he'd been feeling weird things ever since before the Quidditch World Cup."
Holly touched her knee in sympathy. "I think you're right. It doesn't sound
like he has hooks into you anymore. Just some leftover wounds."
The reassuring words became a wash of calm flowing down her body. Ginny nodded
in gratitude and took a deep breath to settle her nerves.
Holly asked, "Have you considered talking to Harry about it? What he told me
didn't explain enough about your recovery."
"Harry didn't care if I recovered," she muled.
Holly stared her in the eyes. "You don't believe that. I know you don't."
Ginny's face fell from the truth of it, but then she decided she wasn't going
to let this witch make her feel guilty. "How is it you know so much about us?
You don't know me!"
Holly looked down then locked eyes with her once more.
"Ginny... I don't want to insult you, but I see a lot of myself in you. I went
through some horrid things, stuff that made me doubt my own humanity, my
capacity to love and whether anyone should ever trust me. I struggled through,
mostly alone but knowing I had support from the few who loved me. They were
there, but they could only do so much. It was up to me to deal with the
hardship- to make it a part of me but not define me. I broke down a few times
and hurt some friends in the process, but I'm stronger now. Doesn't mean I'm
not haunted by it. Sound familiar?"
Ginny found herself nodding almost desperately in agreement. "But I... I can't
talk to him about that. Nor my mum nor the twins and certainly not Ron. Bill
helped me before, but he's not around much."
Holly took a loose hold of one of Ginny's hands and said, "Maybe you're willing
to bend my ear about it? I want to help, and with Harry there catching up on
the sleep of the just, I certainly have some time."
There was a warm shine in Holly's eyes, maybe a reflection of light from the
hallway reaching them through gaps between the door and its frame. Ginny saw
understanding there, and she nodded.
"We should probably find somewhere else to talk, though. Knowing your mother,
they'll be sending search parties for you soon."
As they stood, Ginny found herself noting the bounce of Holly's breasts- larger
than hers by far, inducing a flash of jealousy and a bit of heat in her belly.
If I'm distracted, you know the others will be just obnoxious about it... "Uh,
Holly? Maybe a bit more clothing would be considered decent, y'know?"
Holly looked back at her and then down at herself. "Yeah, probably..." She then
grabbed a few more garments for her kit, endeavouring to dress with enough
layers to satisfy the public good.
Ginny watched her as she did so, and felt a twinge of disappointment when the
bluebell flame winked out before Holly was done.
[[[]]]
Harry awoke in darkness, the sound of Ron's abrupt snort still echoing in his
ears. It took a moment to put it together, but he must've slept through the day
and into the next night. Hedwig flew in then through the open valence window,
beyond which the dark sky was clear and the moon shone, still nearly full.
Harry padded around, getting fresh water and owl treats for Hedwig then
grabbing a new outfit to wear for the day to replace the one he'd slept in. The
moonlight provided enough clues to let him escape with minimal bruising of the
shins, and he crossed to the loo with no evidence of waking anyone.
A brief wash-up and Harry was refreshed, but notably hungry. He slinked down
the stairs towards the basement kitchen but stopped when he saw that the
library door was open, an oil lamp casting light and shadows into the hall from
within.
Just as he was leaning past the doorframe to look for the occupant, the
grandfather clock chimed the hour, startling him out from concealment with a
yelp.
Holly snorted. "Smooth, Mr. Potter."
Harry blushed but smiled as well. He slid the door closed behind him, then
strode over to where Holly was rising from her chair. As soon as he could reach
her, he grabbed her up in his arms. From their tight embrace he whispered in
her ear, "I'd take another ten pratfalls if it'd guarantee you'd be here to see
them."
"Oh, how sweet," Holly teased, "He wants to suffer for me. Always better to
work with volunteers."
Harry relaxed his grip, allowing Holly to drop to her feet, though they still
held close. She looked up at him, smiled and murmured, "C'mere, you."
Her smile extended to his face, and he leaned down to kiss her. A soft
commingling of breath became a game of catch-the-tongue, turning into a needful
snog. Holly took no particular path in deciding where to run her hands across
his body, though after a minute she must've decided that his t-shirt was simply
in her way and pushed it up his chest for him to remove. Her fingers clawed
down his belly as they resumed kissing, sending delightful pings to his spine
that in a less heated moment would probably feel ticklish. Her chest pressed
the silk of her blouse against his bare torso, enhancing the effect.
Holly unclasped his belt and trouser button but left the zip alone, instead
threading her hands between skin and fabric around his waist to slide over his
buttocks, grabbing them with gusto. It prompted Harry to goose up a little,
which broke their kiss.
Holly seemed fine with that, moving to lick her way across his bare chest with
wet jabs of her pink tongue. Harry moaned and then murmured, "Holly, your
shirt."
She pushed him back, the loss of leverage toppling him to sit on the arm of the
sofa behind him. When he found his balance, he saw Holly staring at him, her
hands held up to her collar with a grip on the lapels of the grey silk button
up.
"Y'mean this shirt?"
Harry nodded.
"You tore open my other shirt. I like this shirt."
"Then unbutton--"
Some odd act of prestidigitation happened, as Holly leaned forward as if to bow
and suddenly was holding the shirt out towards him at the end of her extended
arm. She paused, and then let it float to the floor, the rippling silk drawing
his eye as it dropped away. Behind this distracting fabric was Holly, wearing
only a loose skirt and proudly displaying her hard-nippled breasts.
"You are amazing," he declared.
As she strut towards him, she said, "And don't you forget it."
His mouth found hers, his hands found her tits and Harry was once more
electrified by Holly's capacity to stir his desire. Their bodies collided, then
entwined. Skin grazed tender skin. Harry held her against him to keep her warm
body in contact then decided on another plan. He pulled her away, spun her half
around at the waist and then hip checked her to tip forward onto a nearby
table, rewarded by a muffled gasp of shock. Holly pushed several tomes off to
clear the surface then braced herself for him.
Harry dropped his loosened trousers and then grabbed the waistband of her
skirt, yanking it from around her hips to expose her lovely, knickerless
derriere. She looked back over her shoulder at him, and then stepped out of the
skirt into a wider stance. He smiled, placed a hand between her parted legs and
slid it up to rub against her swollen vulval lips. Her entire body shuddered in
his palm; his hand came back dripping with her 'iral' fluid. He slathered some
over his cock and stepped forward to align himself above her glistening folds.
Holly snarked, "Not much for forepl-AAAAYY," but the sentiment lost some of the
taunting tone once he'd buried his cock into her. The muscle and moisture
embracing his erection was enough of a warm greeting for his senses.
He replied, "Every time I watch you move, it's foreplay." Harry leaned forward,
sliding his hands from her hips across her back, following the curve along her
ribs and then cupping her breasts, squeezing them until she moaned. Her other
response was to twitch back with her hips, forcing his cock a quarter inch
deeper.
Harry felt that pulse in his feet. His hips churned into motion like an
industrial piston, gifting him with shocks of excitement throughout his body.
Holly shifted, bringing one leg up to brace on the table top. This changed the
angle of his rutting slightly, but it also served to open her to a deeper
penetration, allowing more of her heat to press against his pelvis. Harry could
feel the tip of his cock being greeted within by a ring or divot of denser
tissue, almost like a kiss. Connecting with it added an extra boost of joy for
him at the end of each thrust.
Holly otherwise was just gasping and writhing in his hands, holding one of the
hands massaging her breasts with her own. Harry realised that they had achieved
some sort of optimal rhythm and motion, and Holly wasn't going to let him
change it.
Willing to agree but not to give over authority, Harry increased the force of
his slickened pounding, prompting Holly to release his hand as she needed both
of hers to grip the table. Her deep red hair was flouncing about, her head
lolling and Harry noted that her flanks made a thrilling ripple each time he
drove his cock into her.
"Harry," she moaned, "I'm-- I'm-- I'm cumming againnnn..."
Indeed he felt her clenching but was momentarily distracted wondering when she
first climaxed during this process. As if reading his mind, Holly finished
stuttering out her breaths from the orgasm and said, "S-s-s-second you touched
my twat, I was in heaven. God, don't stop; don'tstop... don'tstop... dunstp...
dnst... "
He paused then, his cock throbbing within her, stopped mid thrust. Harry held
there to taunt her but she whined in protest almost immediately. With this
wordless admission of need he pounded hard into her again a few times, but then
decided to change up slightly. He lifted her other leg to rest on the table as
well, positioning her in a frog crouch. His reinsertion was satisfying more for
how it made Holly shriek, but it still felt marvelous. Harry couldn't hold off
his own enthusiasm anymore and resumed pounding into her pelvis to the meter of
her joyful yelps.
Churning, thrusting, clenching and twisting, it was a thrill both timeless and
too brief. Something in his pelvis sent notice that he was about to come. He
double-timed the pistoning, sending Holly into a vulgar rant.
"Guh! Guh! God-fuckshite... rip-me-apart, you can't know, I'm a fucking slut, a
monster, I like it all, I want it all, FUUUUUUCK! Fuck-fuckfckfckfckfck
Haaahhhrrrrrryyy..."
He came, a river of sensation rushing through him and into her trembling hips.
As if it wasn't already mind-blowing, Holly started reflexively bouncing her
hips down against his stiff stance, milking the orgasm to the point where Harry
felt a second wave of pulses shooting into her. Their motion slowed over the
next few minutes, until they both were moving more from their heavy breathing
than any intent to continue.
He grabbed her up, pulling her unresisting body against his chest and latching
his lips on her neck almost like a vampire might. She tilted her head back
against his shoulder as if to offer him better access to feed, her arms held
limp in surrender. Harry held her there in the desperate embrace with one arm,
the other reaching across her, caressing her all over her gasping, limp-with-
fatigue body. He wasn't bothered by the loose hairs sticking to their sweat-
dampened skin or the salty musk rising from their bodies. Touching her and
kissing her was making her mewl, and he knew she was trying to say 'I like
this,' but just couldn't form the words while her body shivered in sensation.
It all was so erotically perfect.
Holly's breathing slowed to a calm. She then turned in his arms, shifting how
she was kneeling on the desk until she faced him, then flopped to sit at the
edge so she could embrace him properly with both arms and legs. They kissed.
When they broke apart for breath, Holly said, "Missed you."
Harry cackled. "I got that impression."
"Go get washed up. People will be awake soon."
Harry nodded and let her go. He grabbed up his clothes, skipping over to slide
open the library door. When he rounded past the grandfather clock, he stopped
short.
"Uhh, Holly?"
"Yeah, sweetie?" she replied from the library.
Harry was looking up the staircase at four Weasleys, a Granger and a rainbow-
haired woman who was wrestling to keep her hands over her mouth, all perched on
the steps with a variety of wide-eyed expressions aimed at him.
"They're awake now."
George was in the center, holding the tip of an extended Extendable Ear. Sirius
stepped forward out of the shadows to stand at the bottom of the stairs. His
wand was at the ready, apparently to deter anyone from interrupting Harry's
'special time'. Hermione was already stuck in a Body-bind, half risen from her
seat on the stairs with an expression of righteousness frozen on her face.
Tonks couldn't hold it anymore and burst out laughing.
Before anyone else could react further, Holly slid past the door on her bare
feet to join Harry, wearing her grey silk shirt held closed only by the button
between her breasts. She looked up at the assembly, warning them in tense
whisper, "I'm sure this will need to be discussed, but if you don't shut up,
Walburga will--"
"SLATTERNS! BLOOD-TRAITORS! CRAVEN MUDBLOODS! YOU HAVE MADE MY HOUSE INTO A
BROTHEL!"
Since the rest of the Black family portraits were equally annoyed at being
roused, they decided to join in the ranting. Sirius hopped up the staircase to
deal with his mother, recruiting the twins to silence the other portraits as he
passed by. Holly turned and walked back into the library no doubt in search of
her skirt, leaving Harry to ask 'cackling Tonks' if she would unpetrify
Hermione.
Ron suggested, "Wait a bit, Harry. She won't want to actually yell at you if
the portraits have been calmed down already."
[[]]
Aside from Holly saying, "Harry makes his own choices," and Harry saying, "And
I did," there really wasn't much discussion at all. Harry was relieved for
that, though everyone's behavior turned a bit odd by the time Mrs. Weasley had
come down to cook up breakfast.
Hermione was huffy, so that wasn't too different, but Holly had disappeared
into the house soon after she was dressed, which somehow resulted in Hermione
looking in every dark corner for her, even as they settled down to eat.
The twins and Ron and even Ginny had taken to giving him teasing looks, with
Fred and George occasionally whispering things like, 'How can we learn to be
such an awesome lover of witches?' and, 'Is that the Boy-Who-Lived or the Berk-
Who-Laid-Pipe?'.
At one point, the clumsy-happy-witch-who-should-only-be-called-Tonks pulled him
aside and asked, "Did I do something to insult your friend?"
Harry could only give her a look of incomprehension.
"I only ask 'cause she seems a cheery and funny sort, like me, but the moment
she saw me she got all grumpy and walked away."
"Holly hasn't said... anything about you, at all. Kinda weird, actually. I'll
ask her."
"Don't go out of your way; I just like to know if I did something. Otherwise
good on you, eh? She's a looker and smart, no mistake! If I'd known you had an
eye for an experienced witch, I might've found you first."
Harry smiled and replied, "Don't give up your dreams, Tonks. You found me now,
and Holly keeps saying that I should always consider the possibilities."
Tonks faux-gasped and gave his shoulder a playful shove, but the food was being
served so they returned to the table.
[[[]]]
Nine hours and three meals I've been hiding. I've listened to the chatter and
the cheering, the arguments and teasing, and finally I can go join them.
Because I found my courage or got my emotions bridled? No, because I can't hear
her unfortunate braying laugh anymore. I am such a coward.
Holly slumped down the staircase, trying to pinpoint where everyone was to see
if she could arrange for a moment to explain things to Harry. As it turned out
the cat found her first, followed by his owner coming up the stairs to find
him. Holly stopped at the landing and waited until Hermione picked up
Crookshanks and then faced her.
"Well, you've been silent as a ghost. It's been a busy day for everyone else,"
Hermione noted with some venom.
"I wouldn't have been good company." Holly gave her a slight smile. "I wanted
to say earlier; it's never been my intention to offend or frustrate you,
Hermione. I just have a talent for it. Sorry."
"I'm not offended, but neither do I think you're a responsible person to be
carrying on with someone as young as Harry." She then huffed, "Why are you
smiling?!"
Holly tried to wave her off but Hermione stood there with an armful of cat,
tapping her foot, which Holly found even more amusing. "I started much younger
than he did." ...With you.
Before Hermione could press her point, they were interrupted by Harry rushing
up the stairs double-time to reach them.
"Hols! Where've you been?"
She held out her arms and Harry hugged her close. Holly could see the look of
discontent on Hermione's face but only hugged Harry harder to revel in it.
Harry stepped back and gushed, "You wouldn't believe the day we've had. Did
Hermione tell you? She's a Prefect! Ron is too, which we all thought was a bit
unexpected but I'm sure he'll do alright. We made a party of it and most of the
Order stopped by to wish them well and all. Ron's getting his own broom."
Holly gave Hermione a nod and said, "Congratulations. I'm sure this is a banner
day for you. Something even your parents can understand, right?"
"That's... exactly what I said to Harry. My parents are muggles, but they know
the importance of being a student leader. I sent them a letter with Hedwig."
"And the booklists came," Harry continued, "which means the adults are arguing
over how safe it'd be to get the shopping done. I've been thinking- even if
they have it in for me, Voldemort's people wouldn't be stupid enough to try
anything against a bunch of us right in the middle of Diagon Alley, would
they?"
"No, only Macnair would make that mistake," Holly agreed, "and even someone
like him wouldn't attack a group without bringing an edge in numbers. We should
all go, and maybe then head off into London to catch a flick or go dancing. I
think you all deserve a chance to live it up before returning to school."
They descended the stairs together, talking about possible places to shop or
see. Hermione had a few suggestions for museums or libraries she'd wanted to
visit, but Harry was more inclined to sample something loud, as he was tired of
tiptoeing around headquarters all the time.
They were intercepted at the bottom of the stairs by three men, all holding
their wands at the ready.
Alastor Moody ordered, "Potter, Granger; you'll need to step back up those
stairs."
"Miss Evans, if you'd be kind enough to come down and join us in the library,"
invited Lupin.
The tall bald black man rounding out the trio said with a deep voice, "It's
very important to us all, especially Professor Dumbledore, that you answer a
few of our questions. Now."
I wonder how long they were waiting here for me to show up?
Harry said, "Uh, Holly?"
She answered, "It's cool. If they weren't willing to listen, they would've
Stunned me first. Isn't that right, Mr. Moody?"
"Step lively, Missy, or we'll see how Plan 'B' suits you."
[[]]
Under the watchful eye and readied wands of the Order's toughest members, Holly
was escorted into the Black library. Harry was allowed to come as well, but the
other 'kids' were sent out past the sliding door, even Fred and George.
Moody, Shacklebolt, Lupin and a late-arriving Snape remained standing. Sirius,
Arthur and Molly all sat in chairs, but Holly was directed to sit separate from
and facing the others in case spellfire was required. The Headmaster strode
into the room last, sealing the door behind him and then settling into a
summoned armchair that faced Holly.
He smiled at her and said, "You, I take it to understand, are Harry's mythical
Aunt Holly."
"Mythical? I may be all sorts of fantastic, but I'm very much real."
Lupin scoffed. "But you've only appeared within the last month. You showed up
in Harry's life claiming to be Lily's other, magical sister, but wait, no,
you're really her cousin. No one has ever met you or heard of you before this.
So, up until recently you were, what, consigned to the French Foreign Legion?"
Holly gave him a dismissive look and said, "That's me- the last lover of Beau
Geste. I was unavailable and cut off from contact. Now I'm here, and hoping to
make the best of things. Sorta like how you came back into Harry's life. Why
are you so hostile to me, Mr. Lupin? It's not like I stole your girlfriend or
anything." In her head, Holly amended 'at least not here'.
"I knew Lily," Lupin proclaimed. "Sirius may have accepted you because you've
made Harry happy, but I know there's no way that Lily could have had a close
friend or another sister whom we'd never known about. To suggest it insults her
memory. You're using that insult to get close to Harry- that makes me hostile
as well."
"Indeed," added Dumbledore, "your every statement and action raises more
questions than answers. Perhaps..." He then turned to Harry and said, "Perhaps
you'd be willing to ask Miss Evans to share with us the unvarnished truth,
Harry? She seems inclined to be more direct with you."
Of course Albus knows about the geas. A part of me is relieved to just get this
sorted, but the smart part knows it won't be that simple.
She nodded to Harry, who said, "Holly, please tell me; who are you, really?"
Holly could feel a kind of constriction around her throat- as if a spectral
hand was readying to choke her if her words weren't true. She gulped, sighed,
and then said, "Alright, since we're now in confessional mode, I'll tell you
and your guests my provenance. I'm not Harry's Aunt. I... used to be Lily Evans
Potter, except in a different timeline.
"I, as Lily, enacted a protection on my Harry that resulted in us merging to
make Holly. Unfortunately, I neglected to include my memories in the transfer,
so I lived the life arranged for Harry, until I later discovered who I really
was. I've fought this fight against Voldemort's forces, and later when I died I
woke up here in a younger, unscarred version of my body. That's why I know
everybody but not all the right details. I know this isn't my life, but I'm
here now, and I'm still devoted to Harry's survival and success."
A second after she was done, the room filled with protests, denials,
expressions of shock and not a few threats. Holly listened but didn't reply to
any of the angry faces when they turned her way. She was waiting for cooler
heads to prevail, even if it looked like that might not happen until the next
ice age. She shared an eyeroll with Harry while waiting, as he was trying to
ignore the noise as well.
The Headmaster took in a breath. One might think that some bell had tolled for
how that simple action had drawn all the attention in the room. Once he had
exhaled a long-suffering sigh, Dumbledore said, "Thank you for sharing that
with us. I'm certain it's what you believe to be true." He sighed again, then
declared, "But, you are not a witch."
"I assume this isn't about gender identity," Holly prodded.
"No," he replied with a hint of impatience, "you most evidently are female.
What you are not, is a wand-wielder."
"Right. Discovered that," she said.
"Rather, I believe that you are a kind of poltergeist."
Holly scowled. "Ehh, like Peeves? I'd like to think my fashion sense is a bit
more developed."
"Consider the evidence; you know quite a bit about magic and can magically
travel between spaces, but as you attest, you cannot cast spells; much as a
ghost, you lack the life to make magic even though you are magical. You are a
physical being, yet you seem to require no food or sleep. And finally, you were
able to disapparate from one of the most secure rooms in the entire Ministry,
but neglected to bring the physical objects you wore along with you, suggesting
that you weren't disapparating at all but transporting your essence in some
other way."
"Yeah, but a poltergeist? Aren't I a bit too... sane for that?" Holly then
muttered, "...which is a dubious question to ask one's accuser, on
reconsideration."
"The creature called Peeves is not insane," answered Dumbledore. "He is an
embodiment of a kind of emotional miasma that surrounds and suffuses the walls
of Hogwarts--"
"Oh, I get it," she replied. "A thousand years of adolescent impulses and urges
have been leaving magical waste product in the air- the cumulative hormone
overflow of a hundred thousand frustrated magical juveniles, which at some
point turned into a pervy little personification of impudence." She sat back
and glared. "I can see how you'd think I was one also."
"You seem to possess his sort of capabilities," Dumbledore said, "but instead
of haunting the halls of Hogwarts, you have taken to haunting Harry. I would
suggest that you experiment with vanishing and enjoying the ghostly power of
flight. Once you have reconciled that you are such and not one of the living,
you may decide to move on, and find better prospects than Harry to amuse you."
"Amusing myself isn't my priority and my presence here isn't random. I intend
to help Harry."
"As do I. As do all of the people who have collected here to support him."
Holly grimaced rather than reply as she wanted. The effort was obvious.
"You wish to say something?"
"I really don't want to lock horns with you; it's a bad habit that I worked
hard to break. But let's be honest- they aren't here to support him. They're
here to support you. If you declared that Harry wasn't the destined nemesis of
Tom Riddle, they'd turn towards whatever other sacrificial lamb you were to
designate, and Harry would be tossed to the winds. I'm here for him."
Something in that had upset the Headmaster. He noted rather acidly, "And now we
see your tendency to sow discord."
"Just because I disagree with you doesn't make me an evil spirit."
"No, but I was hoping that you were simply a wayward imp who could be convinced
to move on when your deception was revealed. Now I see that my greater fear is
more likely. You aren't a spirit accidentally enamored of Harry- you've been
sent by others to seduce him for a purpose."
"I'm a woman, not a floating cartoon! I realise you aren't keen on the features
but I'm sure the younger, straighter men in the room can attest--"
"Your appearance is more refined than Peeves', I'll grant you, but I believe it
is because you have been modified."
"How do you explain how I know so much about this world and the people in it,
but not the details of events that have happened in the last ten to twenty
years? I'm telling you, I'm from another timeline!"
"A feat which has never happened before and is not considered possible by the
most advanced theories in temporal magic," Dumbledore said with finality. "I
believe that everything you say is a carefully crafted lie, meant to distract
us from our goals. If I'm right, I'll have to applaud your master or mistress.
Whomever it was that ensnared a poltergeist and conditioned it to believe
itself human should be given credit for such astounding Charms work, however
twisted their purpose."
She growled in frustration and then slumped in her chair.
"Disappearing from within the carefully charmed and protected walls of the
courtroom was a key piece of evidence, but in truth, I really wasn't certain of
my theory until I saw you here for myself. It all came together when I realised
how much you could learn from so many people, once they were within range of
your Legilimency."
Holly felt a cold flash of panic.
"Yes, I know about that," the Headmaster continued. "You've been very free
about peeking into the minds of others around you, particularly Harry, thinking
that no one would be able to sense the intrusion. But I can sense it, even when
it isn't directed towards me."
She turned to look at Harry, just in time to watch the blood drain from his
face. She shook her head but Harry's expression showed he was too busy wrapping
his head around the idea to bother hearing any attempt at a denial.
Sirius scoffed. "I don't recall poltergeists as being mind-readers, Professor."
"No, but boggarts are, even if they're too simple to understand what they see
in a person's fears," said Professor Dumbledore, "and having that instinctual
capability fused with a Poltergeist would make her insinuation that much more
credible. That she didn't know of her own nature would make detection even more
difficult. As I said- it's an astounding feat of magic. Worthy of Voldemort.
One might even see this woman as his boggart- a version of Harry with greater
knowledge and confidence, and... passionate in a way that he most certainly has
rejected in his pursuit of power."
Damn the man, but that's a really coherent theory. Worse still, I've been
noticing the same signs. I don't sleep. Wands don't listen to me, the Ministry
didn't detect me when the Dementors attacked...
Holly couldn't look up at anyone anymore. Instead she murmured, "Harry, what do
you think?"
"I... I dunno. I just don't know. Sirius says you have to answer my questions
with truth, so here's what I want to know. What magic have you used on me?"
Holly paled as she turned to him. "Now listen Harry, I wasn't trying to--"
"What magic did you use? You've been busy with me from the moment you appeared-
what did you do, magically?"
"I sensed the soul magic in your scar when I touched it."
"Soul magic? What're you--?"
"Don't try and distract us, Miss Evans. Continue to answer Mr. Potter's
question."
"I put a little Confundus on Vernon to keep him at bay- that wasn't on you, but
it was in your interests."
"And?"
"I've been... I... when I touch you, I... I read your thoughts. The whole trip
on the Knight Bus, when I was listening to you describe your adventures, I
sifted through your mind to get more details, especially the stuff you didn't
want to talk about. I've done that since the start and I haven't stopped. If
you were touching me, or staring into my eyes- I was probably in your head."
Seeing the look of fear on his face, she implored him, "I had to! I had to know
what the differences were--"
"Or," Dumbledore said, "You needed his experiences as a baseline to construct
your 'alternate history'. I've heard it said that the biggest lies are the
easiest to sustain, if they hinge on a single assumption that cannot be proven
or disproven."
The rest of the room certainly had a number of things to say on the matter.
Sirius and Lupin argued on the nature of boggarts and poltergeists, Snape and
Mad-eye made paranoid suggestions about the purpose of her mission and possible
depth of secrets that may have been leaked, Arthur and Molly worried on what
had been done to Harry and what she might have done to their children as
well...
Holly sat there, statue-still. She couldn't look up if what she'd see in
Harry's eyes was the pain of betrayal- her betrayal, and that was...
"Professor," she heard Harry ask in a strangely distant voice, "what should we
do with her?"
It felt like a physical blow. Her heart skipped a beat, and despite her usual
self-control, tears escaped from her eyes.
She said, "Harry, please, if you ever... ever had any love for me--"
The Headmaster said, "Professor Snape, if you will escort Miss Evans into that
study - I don't believe she should have any further input to this discussion."
[[]]
Thus, Holly was led by Snape into the study adjoining the library to await her
fate.
She was mulling over how badly this all was playing out when she felt the brush
of another mind against her outer shell.
Losing access to wanded magic had been disconcerting, but Holly had adjusted.
However, coming to realise that her usual titanium-like mental defenses didn't
have any real substance here had been a loss like having a foot removed. Since
Sirius' visit to her forebrain, she'd been aware that anyone who chose to test
her resolve would find penetrating her mind no harder than sifting that of a
willful muggle. She'd been trying to move fast enough that those who could do
so wouldn't bother to make the attempt.
Holly's gorge rose in panic. Snape's probe had triggered another unwanted
reaction. The fear of having her defenses ripped away inexorably drew her mind
back to the graveyard, memories of which were still raw and vivid from her time
suffering within the Dementor. She jumped back and retreated to the far wall,
placing the reading chair between them while pleading, "Don't- please, don't!
Don't look, Severus!"
Her last mistake- using his given name. He sneered at her and turned to face
her directly, a gesture from his wand forcing her head to tip up and her eyes
to pop wide open. Once he'd made the connection, Snape stormed into her mind
like a viking.
Holly could sense him watching her as she relived having two dozen men in black
cloaks and death eater masks use her body to pursue their carnal satisfaction.
As if suffering through it again wasn't enough, this time Snape bore witness to
her debasement, his avatar's expression trapped between revulsion and morbid
fascination.
In the real world, Holly keened. First it was a tremulous whine, but the volume
rose into an outcry within a minute. By the time Sirius and Harry had
shouldered the door open, she was wavering between screaming and weeping.
[[[]]]
Sirius and Harry had burst through the door in time to see Snape flourish his
wand and call out 'Purgatorio!'
A sheath of smoky-white ethereal fire surrounded Holly's body, burning her skin
and hair as if the flames were real. Holly's scream turned from anguish to
horror, redoubling in volume.
Harry cried out, "No!" and lurched at the potions master, disrupting his spell.
Holly's suffering ended, but the damage was done.
Her skin burned away like dry leaves tossed into a furnace, but beneath it
wasn't muscle and bone- just an amorphous blob of brackish fluid held in shape
for barely a half second. Her clothes then fell to the floor accompanied by
several gallons of liquid.
Harry saw this and grabbed the man by the robes, trembling in fury. "Y-y-you
BASTARD!"
"Get off me you swine!"
Harry raised a fist but Snape, wand already in hand, petrified him mid-punch.
Much shouting and accusations rose. Professor Dumbledore turned back to the
doorway, raising his arms wide to block the scene from those not already in the
room. Sirius rushed over and then fell to his knees beside Holly's remains.
Snape stood between Harry's statuary pose and Dumbledore, straightening his
robes and brushing off imaginary Potter-cooties.
"Enough!" commanded Dumbledore.
In the ensuing quiet, Snape said, "If she were a real witch rather than this
abomination, my spell wouldn't have had such an effect." He then turned his
back on Harry's petrified pose to report, "I saw into her mind, Headmaster. She
was in persistent trauma, tormented by a recurring nightmare of assault and
molestation by monsters dressed as Death-eaters. This must be how she - how it
- was conditioned to behave as if human. No doubt when I saw through her
deception, she was then punished for her failure."
Snape turned back to whisper in Harry's ear, "Be glad that your witless affair
with this creature hasn't destroyed the Order completely, Potter, for that is
nearly what you accomplished. And if you wonder why no one chooses to 'keep you
informed', as you so arrogantly demand, perhaps you'll consider that this sort
of stupidity is just one reason why."
Sirius commanded, "Get out of my house, Snape, or I won't be held responsible
for what happens next."
"Oh, of course you won't. You're not responsible for anything--"
"OUT!"
Snape strode out, closing the door behind him.
The headmaster sighed. "If only you had stayed where it was safe, Harry.
Instead, the moment you step out the door an enemy is there, disguised as an
attractive fancy, ready to pounce. At times I wonder if you've been keeping a
malaclaw for a pet."
Sirius clambered back to standing. "I think you have a very poor understanding
of men like myself and Harry, if you think we find safety more important than
doing something with our lives. As it stands though, you have the whole thing
backward. Harry didn't leave and meet Holly; he met Holly, then left. The first
time he ever saw her, she was sitting on his desk, in his bedroom. Spirit she
may have been, but not malicious. When she first appeared here, Remus asked her
how she'd found the place. Her reply? 'Harry's here.' That's all she needed."
Professor Dumbledore's face fell. He turned and strode out the door towards the
entry hall, calling for Snape to wait for him.
[[]]
Ginny and the others had been frustrated to be excluded once again, but the
twins assured her that they weren't going to simply accept defeat. As soon as
they'd been shoo'd out of the meeting, Fred and George had tried a number of
tricks and toys to get an eye or ear into the action.
Their efforts proved fruitless and they lost interest after half an hour's
effort. In fact, it seemed like their last attempt had triggered some sort of
reflected trap, as Ron and Hermione also retreated to their rooms rather
suddenly right when the twins did. Ginny had been playing with Crookshanks at
the time, so she guessed she wasn't affected. Though the others had left she
decided to continue her vigil with the massive cat keeping her company, purring
in her lap.
The Imperturbable silence was broken when the door to the library slid open,
allowing Snape to emerge. From within the room, she could hear Professor
Dumbledore calling for him not to depart just yet. The oily git stopped short,
closing the door and stalking up towards the front entrance as if his extra
slow pace would be the limit of his willingness to wait.
Soon Dumbledore came out to the hallway, joining Snape in the foyer. They
muttered together for several minutes but Ginny couldn't hear any details due
to some sort of low noise muffling their words. Snape turned to open the front
door but paused when Dumbledore said, "Severus, please."
The Potions master turned to give a reply, but was met with a wand point and a
whispered, "Obliviate." Snape stumbled back against the door, his face turned
up in shock. Ginny could see his wide-eyed expression and wondered if this was
how all people react when their memories are being bound up inside of them.
Minutes passed. Professor Dumbledore finally relaxed his wand and then lurched
to catch Snape as he stumbled forward.
"You appear to have taken ill, Severus. Perhaps you should return home and
rest."
Snape clutched at his head but nevertheless protested, "And let you sort out
Potter and his latest mess without a voice of sanity in the room? I only came
because you insisted that my talents were required. 'Of paramount importance,'
if I recall."
"I realise that, and it will make my task harder, but I insist. Go home and
rest. I will speak with you later ... to fill in the blanks for you."
The greasy git had the gall to act put-upon, then swirled his black robes back
towards the door, his snap of disapparation audible even as the door shut
behind him.
Dumbledore sighed. Then he, too, exited the house, but not before taking a last
look up the staircase, not quite where Ginny was perched but close enough to
make her wonder.
The other adults that had gone in to confront Holly emerged eventually, each
quietly making their way out or in the case of her parents, up to their
borrowed bedroom. None of them said anything to her, and all carried very
troubled looks on their faces.
A while later Harry skidded out into the hallway, looking around as if ready to
pick a fight, but there was no one around but her. His shoulders sagged. Sirius
came out to say something to him but Harry violently shrugged him away and
headed up the stairs.
As he passed her, Ginny asked him, "Where's Holly?"
Harry stopped. He replied, "Didn't you hear the scream? I suppose they sealed
the room first. Turns out Holly wasn't human, so Snape destroyed her," and then
resumed his journey up the stairs.
She looked down at Sirius who gave a grudging nod to confirm Harry's
assessment.
Ginny felt like someone had just stabbed her in the chest.
[[[]]]
Sirius sealed the library and stoked the fire to place a floo call. He yelled
towards one of the portraits, "Phineas! Is Dumbledore back in his office?"
The sallow man appeared in a portrait next to another relative who was
sleeping. He said, "I am not the Headmaster's social secretary, young man."
"Oh, could you be useful just once without having to make a drama out of it?"
"No. Professor Dumbledore has just arrived."
"Thank you," he said as he tossed some floo powder into the fireplace.
“Hogwarts- Headmaster’s office!”
Professor Dumbledore's face appeared in the flames. "Sirius? Has something else
happened?"
"Would it have to? Dumbledore, I'm a bit disappointed in you right now. You
fled like a coward, leaving me to clean up your mess. Snape's Body-bind on
Harry wasn't easy to unlock, you know."
"I had to avert a disaster in the making."
"Another one? What about that travesty you'd already created? You let Snape
destroy her. Right in front of him!"
"I had no intention of doing so, and gave no order to him to do so. Severus
acted on his instincts and his understanding of the situation."
"I can't believe you!" Sirius railed, "Are you still prepared to sit there and
defend Snape? How can you watch him torture one of Harry's friends to death and
then say he's going to help Harry win?"
"So many things are wrong about this, Sirius, but my faith in Professor Snape's
allegiance is not."
"Why do you say that?"
"I have my reasons."
"What would happen if you were disabled for a time- would the Order focus on
helping Harry or taking the fight to the enemy? Or would they flounder with no
idea which is the priority? Who would be making the call to trust Snape then?"
"I'm not certain where you're going with this."
"My point is that no one else knows why you trust him, so if others were to
take over for you following an unplanned retirement or coma, they'd have no
reason to trust him. If it's due to some sort of leverage you have, well,
that's lost if no one else knows what it is. Unless you have reason to believe
that you're immortal, I'd suggest sharing some of the most critical secrets
you're keeping close to the vest, and preferably sharing them with someone
others will trust if you were gone."
"And who would you suggest? Yourself?"
"If I have to tell you it should be Harry, you've already lost your way. Holly
was right- the Order isn't here for Harry. They're here for you. Your cult of
blind sycophants. I'm resigning, by the way. Find yourself a new clubhouse. Oh,
and the next time I see Snape, I'm going to slice off his arm. I'll let Harry
decide what else to remove."
"Sirius, please don't make any rash decisions. I admit my fault here. I was
mistaken about the nature of Holly's connection to Harry, and in so doing may
have doomed us all. If... if, by some chance, you were to see the spirit called
Holly Evans once more, please apologise to her for the actions made against her
today. If she is willing, I would meet with her to do so in person."
"You think she's still around, then?"
"I truly hope so."
Sirius smiled.
"I see you do as well," the Headmaster said.
"Oh, I think she's a jewel, but that's not why I'm smiling, though I am
consoled to know that you think she'll come back. Twice in one night you've
admitted to being deceived or mistaken. I find this very entertaining."
"Sirius, a little respect--"
"Y'know, Holly told me about a time when, in her other life, she'd asked me if
I would escort her down the aisle when she got married. But first, she told me,
I had to tell you that she was done being a hero. She insisted that I would
have to do it, as 'despite leaving the Sword of Gryffindor impaled through his
desk as notice of termination, the man tends to be exceedingly dense whenever
it comes to me.' She's a jinx for you. I'm looking forward to your next
encounter with her."
"Tell me, was she considered a 'Marauder' in this other life?"
Sirius took a sip of his whisky. "Marauders- hmm. Isn't that some sort of
pirate? Never heard of them."
Dumbledore gave him a withering look, obvious even through the flickering green
fire.
Sirius answered, "That said, her friends did have a codename of sorts for her.
They called her Rook. Better than a pawn."
[[]]
Sirius entered his old bedroom to find Harry sitting on the floor, his back
leaning against the bed. He was reading through a leather-bound journal. His
expression was intense but Sirius couldn't see any evidence of crying, which he
felt could be both good and bad.
"Should I have my wand ready?" he asked.
Harry replied with a toneless, "You should always have your wand ready. We live
in dangerous times."
Sirius shrugged. After closing the door, he settled down to sit on the floor
across from Harry. He didn't have to wait too long for Harry to realise he
wasn't going away.
"I'm going to kill Snape."
"I won't stop you," Sirius replied, "but I do think it's worth planning it out,
so that you won't have to go to Azkaban for it."
"You're just humouring me."
"Am I? I just came from an argument over the floo with old Dumbledore, wherein
I told him he can bloody well take his Order someplace else."
"Why, oh why, would you do that? I mean- the Headmaster was right, wasn't he?
Holly was just a thing, so why would you decide to side with her and hamstring
the only ones who are preparing to fight Voldemort?"
Sirius took the exaggerated tone of the question as Harry playing the devil's
advocate and so he made his case. "I can no longer ally with Dumbledore because
I cannot follow a man who is so focused on his vision of things that he can't
see when a golden egg is dropped into his basket. Holly had answers to many
more of our questions than Snape will ever provide, and they just tried to
flush her down the drain."
"Tried? They SUCCEEDED!"
Harry bolted to standing and began yelling to the room in general. Knowing this
pattern, Sirius let Harry rant for several minutes until he'd run out of new
expressions to describe his frustration. When Harry was down to just seething,
Sirius explained his reasoning.
"Perhaps you aren't acquainted with the nature of Poltergeists- they can't be
eliminated while they can still cause mayhem. Do you honestly think the
headmasters of Hogwarts would allow Peeves to terrorize the students unless
they had no choice? Even Dumbledore can't kill Peeves, so I don't think Snape
has killed Holly. He hurt her, certainly... though not as much as you did."
Harry lost colour in his face. He admitted, "Because I stopped believing in
her. It hurt her, too- I could see it in her face. I was so overwhelmed-
there’s the headmaster saying she’s an evil spirit, there’s Holly getting
caught snooping in my head, looking guilty in a way I’ve never seen on her
face. Then I’m asked by everyone- make a choice, and by the way, most of the
people carrying wands are saying 'it's a demon'. I’d change it if I could. I
should've told them all to get bent."
"I noticed you haven't grieved for her yet. Maybe because you don't think she's
gone, either."
"I dunno," Harry admitted, "it's like all I have is a hole where Holly used to
be. I can't tell you what I feel for her, because all I feel when I think of
her is... nothing. Like an empty lift shaft."
"Then what have you been doing up here all this time?"
"Reading. I'm still learning from her. If she does show up again, the last
thing I want is to tell her that I haven't done shite with what she already
taught me."
"That's good. Anything I can do to help?"
Harry stared at him for a full minute. Sirius could sense that he was assessing
something, so he waited for Harry to come to a decision.
Finally, Harry said, "I need to build an army. Can you help me do that?"
Sirius grinned. "I'll teach you how to win friends and influence people. I hear
that's a key leadership skill. Also, I happen to have a neat little device
that'll keep us in contact when you're at school..."
In his head, Sirius proudly declared himself the first volunteer for Potter's
Army. He wouldn't be hiding in a hole anymore.
[[[]]]
 
***** Ink *****
Chapter Summary
     Ink - It's not always about what's written
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: Ink ]]
Harry didn't feel like reading any more once Sirius had got him ranting. At his
godfather's suggestion they trundled down towards the library for more
comfortable seating, but Harry stopped at the sliding door. It felt like
returning to the scene of the crime.
Sirius must have caught a sense of that from Harry's expression, as he turned
back out of the library and led them down past the kitchen into the wine
cellar. It was cold, damp, cramped and full of cobwebs too thick to ignore.
Sirius had to bat away a few fist-sized arachnids to retrieve the bottles he
then foisted into Harry's arms. They returned to the kitchen with their bounty
and to read the labels in better light than a Lumos could provide.
"No, not the Port; mother never had a sweet tooth so she bought the cheap stuff
for serving to guests. It only looks respectable- it's probably all bitter
sediment."
Assisted by a few shots of Ogden's Finest Forbidden Forest Ferment ('Dark and
murky, with a taste of wonder or horror in every sip'), they settled into
talking over everything that had happened since Harry's birthday. Harry enjoyed
the conversation and felt better the longer they talked about what it all
meant, though nothing was resolved. Or if it was, he couldn't remember what
they decided about it.
It was probably due to the mysterious and wondrous effects of the whisky that
Sirius started flinging spells around. It wasn't rage, exactly- Sirius locked
and sealed the front door, disabled the door chime, attached wall-like sound-
proof paneling in front of many of the portraits, and ordered Kreacher to limit
his activity to the old Master bedroom or the kitchen. All of the twisted elf's
cleaning efforts of late were performed in direct conflict with Sirius' war on
the legacies of his family, so Sirius was essentially putting Kreacher in elf-
jail.
Harry and Sirius were back in the kitchen, in the process of blocking and
renaming the Floo access to 'Black's Bloody Bunker' when the green flames
flared up in their faces, depositing Tonks right into them and knocking all
three to the floor.
From within the tangle she asked, "What's the idea, boys?"
"We're kickin' out th'Order," Sirius declared, "You should go!"
From the bottom of the pile, Harry waved a hand above where Tonks was sprawled
on top of him and said, "Nuh-uh; she's family. Family gets a pass."
Tonks scoffed and said, "You're drunk, the both of you!"
"How d'you know?" challenged Sirius.
"'Well you'd better be, 'cause you're both still groping me."
Sirius just cackled, but Harry checked his errant hand and found that it was
well-cushioned against Tonks' breast- which one he wasn't certain. He gave it a
squeeze, which earned him a yelp and a smack on the shoulder.
The left one, as it turns out. Quite firm.
When Tonks stood up, Harry saw that she was quite disheveled but her eyes had
taken on a rather fiery amber colouring. She shook a finger at him, but didn't
enunciate exactly what for- only growling in a way that promised future
retribution. He responded by giving her an innocent shrug, known throughout
English-speaking nations as meaning, 'I'm drunk and fifteen, Officer. Mea
culpa.'
Tonks declared she was already dead on her feet from working twelve straight
hours, so she rallied just enough authority to command both of them back to
Sirius' bedroom to sleep off their liquor. The work had been done, though. With
a last flick at the fireplace, Sirius had locked down Grimmauld Place. It
wasn't really an added defense so much as a message to recent visitors- 'closed
until further notice'.
Harry awoke mid-morning and, rather than face the rest of the house, resumed
reading from Holly's journal. He was particularly focused on 'Section Two:
advice specific to Harry's situation'. What he read there prompted him to shake
his godfather awake and out of dog form so as to get his opinion.
Sirius read over the passage. He was fittingly sympathetic; "I'd never heard
what it said. No wonder Holly's so motivated to teach you." He then stumbled
into the bed that Harry was no longer using and returned to snoring away his
hangover.
An hour later Harry roused Sirius again to say, "I need to tell them."
"Er... whuh? Okay." Sirius seemed to have dismissed the topic, but then he sat
up and squinted at Harry. "Eh, I wouldn't use 'anointed by Fate' as a good
reason for them to join you."
"I'm not. If anything, I'll use it to explain why I'm nothing special and could
really use the help."
"Ah. The 'cute puppy chained in front of a steamroller' ploy. Best to use that
before your reputation as a sex god makes its way into public knowledge."
Harry seethed, "Do you have anything helpful to add?"
Sirius groaned while falling back onto the mattress, then replied, "Not until
I've had a cuppa."
When they finally came down to join the others, they were inundated with
various questions and offered condolences. Even Bill said a few words- he had
just returned to London in time for Ron's prefecture party, but hadn't been
involved in confronting Holly as he had crashed out in a spare bedroom even
before Holly had come downstairs.
Tonks was especially apologetic to Harry, as she now understood why he and
Sirius had been drinking the night before. The two deflected all questions,
asking everyone to meet with them after their very late lunch for a collective
debriefing in the library. For this purpose, the scene of the crime would be
entirely the right place.
While Harry was eating, the pieces and parts of what he wanted to say kept
flopping around in his head, never connecting. Harry stood in front of them all
in the library and even the fragments had gone into hiding. The lingering pain
from the hangover was ruining his focus a bit as well.
He recalled the mask he'd been using in front of the Wizengamot and by slipping
into it, he was relieved to discover that the throbbing in his temple seemed
less distracting. Then the words came out from hiding and he lined them up like
errant children for presentation.
"First, thank you all for your concerns. I've had a rough time of it lately,"
he orated. "As you may have heard or even witnessed, Holly Evans, my close
friend and tutor, was confronted last night by the Order of the Phoenix. They
accused her of seducing me for some sinister purpose. They said she was an
inhuman spirit, a mix of boggart and poltergeist, and while we had our backs
turned discussing it, Snape did his best to destroy her. So far it looks like
he succeeded." Even though most of them already knew this, there was a swell of
murmured sentiments for his loss.
I think they expect me to blush and say something self-deprecating, but I just
don't see the value.
Sirius interjected, "That's why the Order is no longer operating out of this
house. You lot are welcome to stay for safety's sake, so long as you promise
not to discuss what Harry's about to say with anyone, even the Order. Everyone
agreed?"
They all nodded, so Sirius deferred attention back to Harry.
"So, yeah- Holly was a spirit given substance. Yeah, she seduced me, but she
never betrayed me, and she told me everything she could. She taught me more
about life and magic in less than a week than I've learned since the first time
I entered Diagon Alley. At each step, she'd offered and I accepted. It was
always by my choice." Harry then held up the journal; "Holly also left me some
instructions, in case she were taken from me too soon."
"Savvy girl," Bill commented. He earned some looks for that and added, "She
planned ahead. What?"
"Savviest person I've ever met, bar none," Harry said. Ignoring Hermione's jolt
of affront, he continued, "Holly told me that I had a job to do and that I'm
going to need help from people I trust to do it. Your help, if you agree."
Ron prompted, "What's the job, Harry?"
"Kill Voldemort, survive the confrontation, then change the world for the
better once I have everyone's attention." Harry had stunned his audience, so he
let them stare up at him as he stood with deliberate calm. He then asked, "Are
you all on board with that? Can I trust you? Can I rely on you?"
"But, that's... that can't be your job," Hermione insisted, "not really."
"Yes, it is. At least Holly thought so and she had a very specific reason why."
Harry then placed the leather-bound notebook in front of them and opened it to
a page of handwritten notes. Instead of having them read it, Harry then placed
a carved corner of agate on top of the journal, and Sirius tapped the rock with
his wand, lighting a lined pattern of rune etchings in the stone to activate
it.
The Sounding Stone began to recite the contents of the page in Holly's voice:
"Section 2 - subject is 'on Divination'
"When I told you that Destiny was expecting great music from you, it wasn't
just familial pride or some psycho-mother-thing. Your life is caged by a
prophecy, just as mine was. You can find the original in the Prophecy storehou-
-"
With a flick of his wand Lupin had knocked the stone away, at the same time
saying, "Harry, stop! The prophecy shouldn't be shared like this."
Harry looked at the man with a hint of irritation. "Thank you for confirming
for us all that there is a prophecy. How do you know about it?"
Lupin shook his head, saying, "I can't divulge--"
"Answer my question or get out. Whose side are you on, anyway?"
"There shouldn't be sides in this," Lupin urged him, "You mustn't oppose
Dumbledore."
"I don't; he opposes me." Harry paced for a moment, then added, "Right after
I'd watched Cedric die and Voldemort return, he cut me off from meaningful post
and shut me away in the muggle world, isolating me from friends and allies;
it's a wonder my head didn't explode. Yet even after I'm attacked by Dementors
and told I'd been expelled - with my wand and my freedom hanging in the balance
- he wouldn't talk to me, listen to me or even bloody lookat me.
"I'm not in his way at all, but he has very much been in mine. Hopefully we can
work something out, but he's lost my trust. If all you have to contribute is
his line of thinking, you should leave. Stay or go, Lupin, but make your
choice."
"I'll... stay."
"And if Holly shows up again, will you continue to harass her?"
"I promise, I will not."
"Good," Harry said fiercely. "Let's listen to what she has to say."
Sirius had retrieved the enchanted agate and at Harry's gesture activated it.
Once more, Holly's voice echoed from the stone;
"Section 2 - subject is 'on Divination'
"When I told you that Destiny was expecting great music from you, it wasn't
just familial pride or some psycho-mother-thing. Your life is caged by a
prophecy, just as mine was. You can find the original in the Prophecy
storehouse in the Department of Mysteries section of the Ministry of Magic in
London, but what you'll hear should say something like this:
The Dark Lord's nemesis shall be born in the next apex of Leo,
born out of the conviction of a couple known to oppose him.
The Dark Lord will be drawn to destroy the babe,
but can only leave a mark to recognise his nemesis in future,
for neither can be vanquished until made equal in status
when they will be impelled to end their conflict.
Both shall suffer, incomplete until their opposition is ended.
A Lion shall rise with the power to slay the Serpent.
"The wording may vary but that's the essence of the message: your life is
fucked until you settle with Riddle, and it won't happen until you can face him
fairly. What Destiny calls 'equal in status' is a subject worth seven books of
conjecture, but I wouldn't rely on much more than reaching adulthood before
this fuse burns down. You've got two years to build your army, Harry. I think
you should make it mean something more than 'We're gonna kill the bad guy'."
Having reached the bottom of the page, the recitation stopped. Harry let a
silence pass, allowing everyone to think through what was said. He then asked
Lupin, "Was that the prophecy you heard?"
He sighed in defeat. "None of us have heard it, Harry. The Order has been
protecting it. Only you or Voldemort should be able to retrieve the sphere that
contains the prophecy."
"Why are they guarding it? Why not just bring me there to take it?"
"Professor Snape has reported that Voldemort has become obsessed with
understanding how you've defeated him in the past."
"So... "
Hermione jumped in, "It's a lure, isn't it- to get him to show in public?"
"Yes, exactly!" Lupin enthused. He stopped himself, then looked around at
everyone. "If... if Voldemort finds out that anyone in this room knows the full
prophecy, he'll capture them and torture them until they tell him what it
says."
Harry grumbled, "I should just send him a copy and be done with it."
Tonks suggested, "Or maybe write up something close to right, but it says you
can only be defeated by strawberries."
"Wouldn't that mean that a Weasley is Harry's only weak spot?" teased Ginny, "I
like that version."
"Ah, but if we do that," said Mr. Weasley, "we'll have made our family a
priority target for You-Know-Who."
"More importantly, we'll have lost that chance to prove to the public that he's
back." Lupin huffed but then saw that Mr. Weasley was giving him a critical
eye, while mouthing, 'More importantly?' He shrugged in apology, gesturing
towards Harry.
Harry gave out a sigh. "Alright, we'll leave the prophecy aside for now. Just
put it out of your minds, 'cause it really doesn't change things. I think we
all suspected that I would end up having to fight him. Now we know, and I know
I can't win against him on my own. Will you help me? Lupin?"
"Yes."
"Tonks?"
"Sure-sure!"
"Mr. Weasley?"
"Yes, Harry. But try not to risk anything until you have to."
Harry asked each one in turn, until they would look him in the eye and say they
were on his side.
As he was locking eyes with Ron, with Ginny and Hermione the last to follow,
Mrs. Weasley interrupted, "Harry, dear, you mustn't ask this of the underaged--
"
"Mrs-- Molly, I was assaulted just outside of Diagon Alley by Macnair, the
morning of the Dementor attack. Oh, and then I was attacked by Dementors. Do
you honestly think our enemies are going to care if their targets don't have
their OWL's yet? When they come, should we face them as victims or as skilled
opponents? Our chances of surviving a fight are greater if my friends know what
they're on about. Besides, do you think if someone was attacking me that Ron or
Hermione'd just stand aside?"
"I won't," Ginny answered, "I'll be ambushing them before they know where to
aim. And they won't be getting back up."
Harry grinned towards her and said, "That's the kind of help I need." He turned
back to Molly Weasley and said, "I also need advice, and help with
organisation, and someone who can patch up some injuries." He gestured towards
Fred, George, Bill, Ron and Ginny. "They're with me, and you'll be able to keep
an eye on them better if you're with me, too."
Molly fought with herself, both angry and teary-eyed, until she lurched forward
to grab Harry into a hug. "Of course, dear boy. I just... didn't want to face
it."
Sirius announced, "Welcome to Potter's Underground Army."
Mrs. Weasley let Harry go and stepped away. She kept shaking her head, but she
didn't say another word. If anything, that was more disquieting to Harry and
his friends than if she were yelling at them.
                                    [[[]]]
Much to Ginny's surprise and delight, training began almost immediately that
afternoon. Tonks, Harry, Remus and Sirius all talked about what a 'real' duel
was like, from their varied experiences. Harry's version related to events in
Ginny's life, but Tonks had her Auror training and field work to source, and
Professor Lupin and Sirius both had fought for the first Order of the Phoenix.
Of course, Lupin's lessons were framed in a scholarly form, whereas Sirius'
were like stories old friends might share over drinks.
Several times, Sirius had turned to Harry to ask 'if he remembered that one
time--', but would stop when he remembered that James Potter wasn't in the
room. Harry would give him a reassuring grin. The first time, he added, "I'd
love to hear about it later tonight, Sirius. Let's get back to this." The other
times, Harry'd just nod as if to say 'another for the list.'
It was really sweet, and Ginny mentioned it to Harry during a break. He only
shrugged and said, "We all have wounds to heal, I guess. Thanks. I'll keep
doing it."
That night as Ginny finished prepping for sleep, Hermione sat down across from
her. Looking over her shoulder towards their door, she said, "It feels strange-
I don't think he's grieving. That can't be good."
Ginny countered, "I'm sure Harry is dealing with this as best he can.
Besides... the way he talked down there; didn't it make you just clench your
thighs together?"
Hermione blushed and coughed and blustered. Eventually she worked out some
sentences to say; "I would never try to work around you, you know that Ginny,
right?"
"You've got the buzz for Harry! Years of denials and now your secret is out."
"No! I didn't! He just... he's changed."
"And that's what's got you worried? That he's getting confident, finally?"
"Harry is... he might not... need my help anymore. Am I really his friend or
just the girl that used to sort his problems for him?"
Ginny goggled with disbelief. "And here I was going to ask you what's going on
in his head. You really don't know him either, do you?"
Hermione's head snapped back around to glare at Ginny. "I knew him just fine,
thank you, up until this Holly Evans spirit showed up. I can guess how she got
to him, but I'm worried about what she's done to him."
"Shagged him rotten and told him some harsh truths, looks like."
"And you don't have a problem with that?"
"Well I would have liked to have been his first, one day, but now I have to
think he's much better at it than if we were figuring things out together.
What's your problem with her, if it isn't that you wanted Harry for yourself?"
Hermione expression of disbelief was almost comical. "That... woman represented
the worst sort of unprincipled and dangerous witch I could think of that isn't
actually a Death-eater! Didn't you listen to her lessons? She wanted Harry to
manipulate people, and to shut off his emotions and be.... Slytherin! She was
trying to change Harry, corrupt him into God-knows-what." Hermione added in a
whisper, "She wanted to turn him into a murderer."
At first Ginny wanted to tell Hermione she was being foolish, but the words
rung true. It gave her pause.
"I think that woman could have convinced him to do just about anything,"
Hermione said, "and if that's not dangerous, I don't know what is. And that
she's still influencing him through that journal? It's not right."
Ginny nodded and sat silent in thought. The clock downstairs chimed the hour.
Finally Ginny said, "I didn't think of it that way, and I see your point, but
you got one thing wrong- she wasn't trying to make him a murderer. This is a
war; Harry needs to become a soldier, a commander. And I know I won't feel safe
until someone kills Vol-- He-Who-- Riddle. Kills him, permanently. That's not
murder, or even revenge. It'll be saving us from a monster that threatens to
destroy us all."
"You're being a bit dramatic."
"No, I'm not. As a 5th year -younger than you- Tom Riddle found a Basilisk and
chose to let it out into the school until it killed someone. It wasn't a fluke
or an accident- the moment he could get me to do it again for him, he did. He's
a monster who enjoys causing others to suffer. Maybe Holly is right, and Harry
needs to be a bit monstrous too, if he wants to win."
"But then we'll have won by becoming--"
"Stop treating this as if Riddle was a person! He's a hurricane that won't stop
turning; he's a volcano that erupts again just when the flowers start to grow;
a flood that only recedes to come back stronger and more destructive. You can't
defeat that without doing something fairly epic as well."
"And you think Harry can make that happen better than Albus Dumbledore?"
"Dumbledore was fighting Riddle the last time and didn't beat him. Harry did,
and the way Dumbledore treats him, I think he expects Harry to do it again. The
more we talk about it, the more I'm with Holly- Harry has to make some noise.
Being quiet, humble and oblivious hasn't exactly kept him safe, now has it?"
It was Hermione's turn to sit back and consider. After a bit she murmured,
"Commander Harry?"
Ginny grinned and stood up at attention in front of her bed and saluted, her
modest chest thrust outward. "'Yes, Commander Potter, sir.' Makes you want to
follow his orders, doesn't it?" She added in a smoky, yearning voice, "Command
me, sir. Pleeeease?"
Hermione giggled, and then stood up to join in to the roleplay with a stern but
suggestive, "Show some discipline, Witch Weasley, or I will have to... punish
you.'"
Ginny exhaled audibly and said, "I don't know if I'd be able to stand up
straight for too long if he started talking like that."
"Hopefully he'd be ordering us to do something else with our positions."
"'Us', Hermione? I thought you said--"
"Alright, I admit it! New Harry makes me think naughty thoughts. You're not
helping."
"Wasn't trying to."
"Cheeky witch." Returning to her sultry-stern voice, she added, "Sounds like
you could use some of my punishment, Witch Weasley."
A tremor shot through her. Ginny caught her breath in her throat and snapped
her gaze at Hermione, who was blushing quite deeply.
Hermione murmured, "I meant... I mean from Harry. Or..."
"Uh... let's just get some sleep, yeah?"
Both witches kept their eyes away from the other while they settled into bed.
Hermione said 'good night' and shut off the one lamp, leaving the room lit only
by the waning moon from the window.
Ginny's mind wouldn't stop racing. She was caught on an idea, and kept
considering her choices; it came down to whether she should confront Hermione
with a perilous question or stay silent and just allow their discomforting
moment to pass. A memory of Holly's face rose in her mind's eye, from a moment
of vulnerability they'd shared when they were talking about Ginny's experiences
with Tom in her head.
Ginny said, "I've never kissed a girl, Hermione. Have you?"
From the shadow of blankets came a quiet, "No."
"Have you ever considered it?"
"No."
"Oh." Ginny relaxed. "G'night th--"
"But I am now."
"Me, too."
The silence dragged on for a bit. Finally Hermione said, "That woman was evil,
Ginny. Look what she's done to us."
Opened my eyes. Showed me understanding when I never would have expected it.
Gave the reassurances that no one else ever could give, to know that I'd
actually beaten Riddle, and how much of a triumph that was... all in the space
of a day. She was as energizing (and disruptive) as a lightning bolt.
Ginny said nothing. There was no point arguing with Hermione about it- she
wouldn't understand, unless and until she'd been struck by that lightning.
That, and Hermione always has to have the last word, doesn't she? Else she'll
just start up again from a different angle. The only way to get to sleep is to
let her win, let her last declaration echo in the silence for a bit.
'Look what she's done to us.'
I am looking, Hermione, and I want more.
                                    [[[]]]
For the next several days, Harry and Sirius drilled everyone on the basic
spells that had saved Harry in the past- disarming, stunning, binding &
shielding. They also demonstrated the 'deconstruction' charms like the gouging
hex, blasting hex, wall-breaker and the ever-handy Reducto, and had them
practice those until they were comfortable with them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley
would toss a spell when asked, but they demonstrated a competence that
surprised most everyone aside from Bill. Sirius was particularly stunned, and
mentioned that they hadn't been part of the original Order of the Phoenix.
"I thought Fabian and Gideon Prewett were exceptional duelists," Sirius
recalled, "but I reckon the talent didn't stop there, and Molly wouldn't settle
to marry a fool. Arthur is so mild-mannered, too. You'd never suspect him."
During the day was training and planning- a good focus for his mind, but at
night Harry was plagued by nightmares- horrible things that often woke him in
time to heave out his prior meal. He could sense that the visions weren't drawn
from his subconscious. Voldemort was having a field day with his brain, which
felt more exposed since Holly's dissolution. Harry's only consolation was that
it didn't feel like his mind was being plundered- he was getting these horrid
visions like telly signals, so he figured Voldemort wasn't looking for
anything- or maybe he couldn't.
Still, the pressure was on him, and their bunker mentality only made the house
more oppressive in its darkness. As he read more from Holly's journal, he began
to hear the passages in her voice. It spooked him enough that he sought a bit
of perspective from someone he figured he could trust and understand in the
matter.
Sadly, all Hermione would say is, "If you think the book is talking to you, you
should lock it away somewhere safe. We don't want a repeat of the trouble we
had second year. I mean it, Harry. Give it to Sirius or Professor Lupin and
have them secure it until they can give it a thorough going-over."
He nodded to assure her that he would follow her advice, but that was primarily
to get her off his back. Instead he sought out Ginny, somewhat incongruously
finding her reading in the library after leaving Hermione in the kitchen.
"Uh, hey Ginny. Whatcha reading?"
Ginny looked up at him as he sat across from her and smiled, showing him the
front cover of 'The Dark Arts Outsmarted'. "Just looking for an edge, my
Captain."
"I need to ask you something." At her nod, he said, "You remember what it was
like, dealing with Riddle's diary?" Her expression turned cold and he winced.
"Oh- I'm an idiot. You probably don't want to talk about--"
"It's fine, Harry. I'm not a wilting flower, you know. We beat it," Ginny
reassured him, "I just wasn't expecting you to bring it up." She put down her
book and leaned forward so that the discussion could be more private.
Harry leaned in as well. "Right. So here's the thing. I have this journal that
Holly was writing to advise me, and sometimes... sometimes it feels like she's
talking right to me. Did you get that sort of feeling from the diary?"
Ginny looked around with some concern. Sensing this, Harry added the muffling
spell to enhance their isolation.
"You'll have to teach me that one," Ginny remarked, "and find out if there's a
counter-charm. Dumbledore put up something like it when talking to Snape that
night."
"Yeah, Holly taught it to me. She said Snape invented it."
"Creepy, but fitting. Anyway, you were asking about the diary. At first I only
traded writing with him. After a while I could hear his voice as the words
appeared on the page, so long as I was touching it. It wasn't too long after
that when I started blanking out. He... he must have been taking possession of
me by then."
Harry stared down at the leather journal in his hand. "Could you feel him in
it, when you held the diary?"
He saw Ginny's eyes widen. "Yes, Harry. If you can feel her in the journal, put
it down, right now!"
"No I can't feel her, but I wasn't sure if I should," he assured her. "I only
had the diary for a short time and I think it felt alive after I'd been sucked
into a memory from it, but I couldn't remember."
"Yeah. His memories... they were always dark and... tainted somehow." Ginny
gave him a calculating look. "Give me the journal, Harry."
"Why?"
"In case you're lying about how it feels. If it's influencing you, you might
not be able to stop yourself. Put the journal in my hand."
Harry nodded, and then placed the book in Ginny's open hands. He let go and
watched Ginny's face as she scrunched it up in concentration.
After a minute, she relaxed and smiled at him. "Pretty sure it's just a book,
Harry."
Harry smiled in relief. He took it back from her and said, "Yeah, but it's a
really great book." He opened it up to the section on personality assessments
and they settled next to each other on the couch so they could read together.
Within minutes they were laughing at Holly's rather wicked observations on the
various Professors of Hogwarts, including a few they'd never heard of.
                                     [[]]
Mr. Weasley approached Harry after dinner on the night of Friday the 25th. When
they had found a private corner, he handed Harry a folded copy of the Daily
Prophet, explaining, "Molly doesn't want to see these with all the lies they've
been printing about you and about Dumbledore, but I saw this one and thought
you might want a copy."
Harry unfolded the section; the article was a follow-up on Harry's hearing. The
details of the text didn't interest him half as much as the two moving
photographs- pictures of Holly. One was rather indistinct as it seemed to have
been taken from the corner of a larger photo, but it showed Holly leaning back
beneath the statue in the Atrium wearing her huntress outfit, relaxing in a
shaft of artificial sunlight. The second was sharper- Holly was standing at the
witness dais speaking up towards the Wizengamot, Mr. Weasley's tweed robe
wrapped tight to her body. Her face was mostly turned away from the camera so
it only showed her ear and the curve of her jawline- no doubt it was the only
photo of her testimony that they could find.
"What do they say about her?"
"Oh, I doubt you'd want to read that," he said with a coy look.
Harry nodded to him and read it anyway.
...and who is this mysterious woman in Harry Potter's life? The Irish witch
shares a family name with Harry's murdered mother, Lily Evans Potter, and also
bears more than a passing resemblance to that honoured hero, the last victim of
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Has Harry Potter fallen under the sway of this saucy seductress? Is this
'tutor' twisting Mr. Potter's yearning for his lost mother into a forbidden
romance? Given the dubious state of Harry Potter's mind, it is doubtful he
could resist this fiery redhead's obvious charms. We at the Prophet will be
looking deeper into this liaison and will bring to you the secrets that these
two - the wild child and the wanton witch - are hiding from the world.
Harry chuckled. "Figures- the only time they get it close to right, it's
because the truth is stranger than their fiction. Thanks for this, sir."
"Call me Arthur, Harry. One other thing..."
Harry paled, wondering if perhaps he'd been sitting too close to Ginny lately,
enough to trigger a parental intervention. "Yes, sir... Arthur?"
"Professor Dumbledore contacted me while I was at work today. The man is nearly
begging to speak to you." He raised his hands when Harry's expression turned
guarded. "I didn't say anything about what we're doing here, except to hint
that you were in mourning. But please, Harry, consider at least negotiating
with him. We do have similar goals, and we will be stronger united than
divided."
"I know sir. I'm planning to speak with him before term starts at least. Give
me a few more days to work something out and then we'll meet. I'd like your
opinion, of course."
"After dinner, then?"
"Yeah. I already had Kreacher hide the liquor so that we might keep Sirius on
topic this time."
"Learning how to plan ahead, I see. Well done."
                                     [[]]
Sometimes during the day, Harry would be interrupted in his activities by
visions like those he saw in his nightmares. The jolting shift of perspective
would send him reeling, but if he concentrated he could shunt the visions into
the background where they would still make noise but not enough to interfere
with his ability to walk.
At night they were worse, for he slept defenseless. How could he both
concentrate and be asleep? Pushing his bedtime into the wee hours served to
exhaust him enough that the fear of the nightmares wouldn't keep him from
falling asleep, but his rest was barely restful. As it went on, Harry began to
appreciate why Sirius and Lupin looked so much older than they should.
He was beginning to despair. The only thing that had held the visions at bay
was Holly's presence, and going to sleep knowing she was watching over him.
Even on the nights when it seemed Voldemort was taking the night off, his own
anxieties will fill in for him. It seemed a callous way to think of her, but
Harry needed a new Holly to watch over him, or he might go insane.
A symptom of this- Harry had taken to laying out Tarot card configurations on
the floor, as the ritual of placement and calculated interpretation of the
cards had proven to soothe his nerves.
Can't believe I'm looking for sanity from the teachings of Sybill Trelawney. If
Holly hadn't written about the parts of Divination that could be useful, I
wouldn't have even tried this.
Harry was interrupted from these thoughts by a knock on the doorframe to
Sirius' bedroom. Ginny peeked in from the hall. "Mind of some company?"
"Love some, but... isn't this likely to upset your mum? The two of us, alone in
a far bedroom?"
"Probably, but she's off to Diagon for our books, and my dad and Bill are away
at work, of course."
"Well then we're safe for a bit. What's on your mind?"
Ginny stepped over his cards and dropped to sit on the floor across from him.
"I have this problem I've been trying to sort out," Ginny said, "and I wonder
if you could help me with it?"
Harry noted that his Sustainer card was inverted, indicating a dramatic change.
"Sure. What can I do?"
"Ehmm... I should explain first. Y'see, I had this... crush on you for a while.
You may have noticed."
"I had noticed- or rather Hermione had and put the pieces together for me a
while back. You've relaxed a bit around me since then, though. Figured it was
done and gone." The Water card was the lightning-struck tower- gee,
emotionally, I'm collapsing; as if I didn't know that.
"Not so much gone as put in the attic, but that's not really why I'm here...
except it is."
Harry looked up from the array. "Why do I get the feeling you were waiting for
your mum to leave the house?"
"I had to- Mum has some sort of sixth sense about these things. She'd be on us
in a trice if I'd given her any hint why I'm up here."
"So why are you here?"
"I'd like to kiss you," she said with a nonchalant sigh. "Maybe more."
"I -- you --" Harry could feel his brain plunging into warm hormone gravy.
Outwardly he covered for this by glancing away from Ginny and emitting a
thoughtful, 'hmmm,' but inside he was thrashing in a bog of emotions, trying to
find and reinstate his mask of command. During one of his lurches above the
surface, he caught onto Ginny's nervous explanation already in progress.
"... wasn't sure you'd be keen, what with your relationship with Holly, but it
was her that prompted this. She even insisted that Hermione and I get closer to
you if possible. Close as we can. I'd like to be closer, Harry, and I think it
might help you."
"H-help me? How? And you're sure Holly meant for you to--"
"I can't be sure of anything, Harry. That's the other half of what this is
about. I think I might... like girls. I need to know if I've turned a corner
somehow and won't find boys suitable, and I can't test my interest by cuddling
up with one of my brothers or Sirius or an adult."
Harry coughed out a laugh.
"What?"
"Just the way you said that- I find it hard to think of Sirius as an adult
sometimes- it's nice to know I'm not alone in that."
She laughed, but her laugh was different- not mocking as it usually was, but
full of relief and delight. It caught him short.
Harry looked at Ginny with new eyes. She was young but developing, and
surprisingly beautiful in a natural, undolled-up way. There was no mistaking
her for a little girl. Her formerly straight copper hair had achieved some
gentle curves that framed her face. Her smile flashed, her brown eyes shone
with a gold light.
Where had she been hiding her beauty all this time?
She was wearing capris of thin fabric that clung to her bottom and thighs as if
interrupting those perfect curves would be a travesty for clothing honour. Her
legs from the knees down were bare, the pattern of freckles reminding him of a
leopard. Her sleeveless cotton shirt showed off her tan-speckled shoulders and
the pale skin of her neck and collar. Her breasts were smallish but prominent
now beneath her shirt in how the nipples stood out against the fabric, tenting
her scoop neck such that he could almost see them, even more being exposed as
she was leaning forward...
They kissed.
Harry could feel the difference. Ginny had some experience but it wasn't at all
the same. Holly would kiss him as if her lips were instruments of pleasure that
she could wield to her whim. Ginny had confidence, but there was a fragility
behind the boldness. As Harry tasted her, he felt the shivers of uncertain
eagerness through her lips.
Is this what Holly felt when kissing me? There's something delicious about it,
have to admit.
They continued for a while, and Harry was pleased she was also interested in
extending their 'one kiss' as long as possible. When gravity and balance issues
threatened to dislodge them, he leaned back from the kiss, opening his eyes
wide to catch another glimpse of the hidden Ginny. A charged look arced between
them.
"I'd say you're still interested," Harry said.
Ginny grinned madly, much as she would when having outflown the keeper to get a
clean shot at the hoops. "Looks like! I could stand to try a few more tests,
though."
"So would I..." He leaned forward, but his sense of honour sent up a pang of
restraint, possibly from somewhere behind his jaw. He said, "but I thought you
were going out with that Ravenclaw, Corner."
Ginny bowed her head. "Michael, yeah. I shouldn't... shouldn't go too far
without letting him know I'm breaking it off."
"Is that for me? Don't give up on him for my sake. Michael's not a bad guy, and
I...  umm..."
She looked up at him again, offering an expression of understanding. "You're
holding out for Holly coming back."
"Yeah."
She winced. "I wonder what she'd say if she caught us just now."
They smiled, both sharing a guilty grin to accompany the thrill that came from
doing risky, forbidden things.
The giddiness of the moment crashed when the Sounding Stone scratched out, "Can
I play, too?"
Harry and Ginny were up standing and backed against the wall before they'd
realised they were moving. Harry had his wand out but Ginny had made do with
hefting a brass candleholder.
The Stone echoed in Holly's voice again, this time with, "Good reflexes. I like
that."
Harry spat at Ginny, "I thought you said it wasn't evil!"
"I said it felt like it was just a book. Tom's diary felt like a book at first,
too."
"Well, why didn't you say that?!"
"I figured I was sensitive to it now. It didn't feel like anything!"
"We're gonna have to destroy it. It took a Basilisk fang last time, and I don't
have any of those handy," he growled.
"Don't take that tone with me; it's not like I hid all your fangs on you,
y'know?"
The Stone crackled out, "Uh, I'd like to just mention something."
Harry and Ginny both turned towards the Sounding Sound and barked, "No!"
"Well at least you agree about that," offered the Stone.
"She's right," Harry admitted, "We're better off cooperating than accusing each
other."
"Harry, are you taking the advice of the possessed journal we're trying to
destroy?"
"She doesn't lie to me and I've always found her advice relevant, useful and...
sometimes really funny."
"Why thank you, sweetie," came a response from the Stone. "I love an
appreciative audience."
Again, Harry and Ginny shouted in unison; "Shut up!"
"I will when you can answer this two-part question: where is the journal?"
Harry looked to confirm. "It's over there on Sirius' desk."
"And I'm speaking to you from..."
Harry and Ginny turned to look at the Sounding Stone which was propped atop a
sheaf of parchment on a shelf... on the opposite side of the room. Also
standing on the sheaf was a small translucent black... thing. Like a blob of
motor oil, perhaps, but perched a bit above the paper as it was standing on
several spindly limbs.
They cautiously approached the little blob- at short range, the oil-thing
appeared to be lizard-like; the shape and size of a lean gecko with a whiplash
tail.
The tail whipped around on the parchment. When it finished scribing a sentence
in miniscule handwriting, the Sounding Stone echoed the content; "Please don't
destroy the journal or I'll have to rewrite the whole bloody thing from
scratch."
"Holly?"
The tail absorbed the ink on the parchment and scribed out a reply. "Yes,
Harry. It's me. It seems the truth of my existence is even more entertaining
for me than I suspected. I'm an ink imp. Or that's the form I came up with this
time. Each time I get pasted I seem to come out differently. How very
Gallifreyan of me."
Ginny queried, "Gallif-what?"
Harry waved a dismissive hand and said, "It's from a muggle telly show; ask
Hermione to explain it." He then protested, "Where have you been? Why didn't
you say something before now?"
"I've only a little magic," echoed the Stone, "Snape's spell reduced me to
nothing but an angry speck of ink. It took me a while to build up enough juice
to move around, much less activate the Sounding Stone. Without that projecting
my voice, you'd probably just think I was another Grimmauld Place pest."
There was a pause, then the Stone exclaimed for her, "Ohey- Grimmauld Place! I
know where we are now!"
                                    [[[]]]
                Get it right; there's no blood thicker than ink
               Hear what I say- nothing's as simple as you think
                               - 'Dirty Day', U2
                                    [[[]]]
Author's note: as demonstrated last chapter, I am pathologically incapable of
writing something light-hearted. Having said that, I promise not to kill Holly
again for at least a half-dozen chapters. Maybe even eighteen. Guaranteed Harry
won't angst about it, and neither should you.
                                        
***** Jump Around *****
Chapter Summary
     We visit several viewpoints of the week prior to school
 
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.
 
Author's note: In trying to keep with canon events except where Holly has
influence, I've corrected my error in the previous chapter about Ginny's
boyfriend. She was seeing Michael Corner of Ravenclaw at this point, not Dean
Thomas.
 
Holly Polter
                          [[ Chapter: Jump Around ]]
How big is a soul? It is infinite yet it shares space with countless other
infinite souls. It weighs nothing, yet one soul can move planets if the
influence of that soul reaches far enough. Still, to affect the physical one
must be more than spiritual. You need to have something, to be something. Just
a drop, even.
Or you can possess a microbe, make it eat its neighbor and build a drop of
something from that.
With a little magic, a drop becomes two drops - one cannot create something
enduring from nothing, but duplicating with magic is tolerated for reasons that
evidently have nothing to do with physics or chemistry. The second drop
consumes the first, or vice-versa, and it grows. After a while being a drop
seems a bit dull, and one has enough mass to remember things, so one might
decide to try out something with a bit more structure. Too complex and it'll
fall apart, so one limits themself to building complexity after the eating and
a bit of rest. More memories become available with the greater volume, and it
occurs to you that life was more fun in the time before the big bang, as you
refer to the time right before you realized your greatest ambition for the
moment was to be a drop.
                                    [[[]]]
Ginny was pleased to find out that Holly hadn't been destroyed by Snape, but
there was much still wrong with their world. "Okay, that's a little
disconcerting."
The Sounding Stone recited Holly-the-ink-newt's scrawl in Holly's own voice;
"My being amphibious ink?"
"That too, but... why would you know where we are now, rather than before?"
There was a pause, then the Stone echoed, "Oh. Oh, dear."
Harry said, "What is it?"
"Hmm... how shall I put this? What's the translation of 'Fidelius' in English?"
"They don't actually teach us Latin," Harry muttered.
"That might be a blessing in disguise, as many spell incantations end up being
mis-conjugations of proper Latin. 'Fidelius' is related to 'Fidelity' which
means 'faithfulness' or 'trust'. Who's the secret-keeper?"
"Professor Dumbledore."
"And how does the owner of the house feel about--"
Harry was bolting out the door and down the staircase before the Stone could
finish its recitation.
"--said secret-keeper?"
Ginny turned back to look at the ink lizard with a scowl.
The representation of a head tilted in response, simulated eyelids blinking
over the oblong drops positioned to suggest they were eyes.
"Holly, I'm a little confused. You said we should show Harry love, but then you
went and ruined it for us."
"You can't blame me for that. From what I heard, you were both going to beg off
to ensure that all the proper forms and protocols had been satisfied. I've been
hoping for a chance to reveal myself when it wasn't just Harry in the room so
he wouldn't assume he was going insane, but he and Sirius have been keeping
opposite schedules when not drinking together. Interrupting you two just now
was a tactically sound decision. Also, funny."
"Yeah. Funny. Anyway, I need to ask you something."
"Ask away, Gingersnap."
"It's about you. About you and... me."
"I heard you saying that girls were becoming interesting for you."
"I never even thought of it until you showed up! Did you do that to me or -
- hang on, how do you hear anything? You don't have ears!"
"A newt doesn't have ears that stick out. Look closer and you'll see the ear
holes, but the real answer to your question is that I hear sound with my whole
body. Liquid's a very good medium for sound. I hear better than I see at this
point. Of course that's usually the case, and I bet I won't find any miniature
glasses that'll sit right on my head since I don't have ears."
"Huh. This has been the weirdest summer."
"Count your blessings- at least you're still a witch. As for me turning you
gay, I doubt it, and certainly not on purpose. Besides, recent evidence
suggests that you're--"
"Straight," Ginny tried to interject.
"--Bi-sexual. You just hadn't considered the option to see girls as desirable
until you saw someone to relate it to. The good news is that your playing field
has expanded slightly, and that gay sex has an advantage since pregnancy isn't
an issue. The bad news is that most people who find out will think you're a)
indecisive about being gay, b) acting outrageous as part of adolescence, or c)
simply a slut."
Considering those options made her wince. "How did you handle it?"
"I was already being treated like Morgana's worst daughter, so 'slut' was just
another sin-soaked feather in my cap. I'd love to help you explore this, but
I'm quite limited now. Might as well keep your interest in girls under your hat
until an opportunity presents itself."
A curiosity awoke in her. Ginny leaned forward to look closer at Holly's form.
She reached out a finger to stroke beneath its chin. It felt soft and rubbery,
even dry to the touch but warm. A thrill ran up her arm, and she smiled. The
little thing stepped in to rub its head against her fingers.
Ginny's skin felt hot but it wasn't unwelcome. Thinking about the woman who
caused it gave her another pulse of jittery excitement. It also was triggering
a certain protective instinct. She said, "I'm glad that you're back, but I'm
not sure everyone else will be. Mum hasn't been quite herself since that night,
and I'm rather sure Hermione will be warning Harry to stay far away from you.
She can be trouble."
Sparing some of her attention, Holly's tail scribed, "Don't I know it!" She
continued rubbing against Ginny's hand though.
The sounds of someone struggling to run up the stairs echoed into the room,
prompting Ginny to nervously step back from the shelf, feeling a strange flush
of embarrassment for possibly being caught touching Holly.
Through the doorway she could see Harry lurch up the last steps, breathing with
his whole body as he finally reached the landing and flopped onto his back. Two
breaths later, Sirius appeared right next to him with a 'pop', startling them
both.
Harry wheezed, "I bloody hate you."
"If you hadn't rushed off to run up the stairs, I would have offered to bring
you along with me."
"You can (huff, huff) do that?"
"Side-along apparation? Sure."
"I bloody hate you, (huff) again."
From the corner of her eye, Ginny saw the designs scribed into the Sounding
Stone aglow. Holly's voice projected, "Not to interrupt your brotherly bonding,
but we have a time-sensitive issue at hand."
Sirius finished helping Harry to stand while squinting towards the shelf where
the stone sat. He then leaned back and barked a laugh. "I already know the
Stone is enchanted to sound like Holly, kids. If you're going to prank me--"
"Mr. Pink, is Bella's vicious dagger still secured on the second shelf of the
glass and silver case?"
"Yes, it is, and-- mother of Merlin, it's really you!" Sirius' eyes popped wide
and he rushed up, stepping forward in a slight crouch as he approached the
shelf where Holly stood on the parchment. "And you're a... tar baby?"
"Ink imp."
"Never heard of it."
"I should hope not, as I created the first one under highly unusual
circumstances. Listen, Sirius. The Fidelius charm is breaking down. You need to
get Albus here as soon as possible and sort out the loss of trust."
"Why is this time-sensitive?" Ginny asked. "I mean sure, the house will be
visible, but if no one is looking for it what's the rush?"
Sirius stood up straight to address her; "Those who used to come here are not
aware that they have forgotten anything. If they become aware of it, they may
decide to visit and see who was interfering with their memories."
"Who used to live here that would matter?"
"My cousin Narcissa Black and her sisters would spend summers and special
events in the house. She's now known as Narcissa Malfoy."
Harry and Ginny both groaned.
"Not to worry," Sirius reassured them, "I've already sent the Headmaster a
message. In fact, I should get back to the kitchen in case he calls."
Holly's voice amended, "You should also warn the underaged not to cast spells
until the roof is fixed."
Harry had followed Sirius into the room as he finally caught his breath. He
said, "How'd you contact him? I thought Phineas said the current Headmaster
wasn't in his office."
"I sent him a Patronus messenger. You should learn how to do that."
Harry let out an exhale of frustration and said, "Well, YEAH! I wouldn't have
had to run down to the kitchen and back!"
"You need the exercise."
"And you don't?"
Sirius grinned and said, "No," which was punctuated by the 'pop' of his
disapparation.
"I bloody hate him, for the third time." Harry shook his head as he approached
the shelf to stand next to Ginny. He said to Holly, "I don't know what to do.
You're a lizard made of ink? How did you appear to be so real when we met?"
"Basics of transfiguration, Harry- proper visualization. I saw myself as the
witch I was and formed to match that belief. I was just as real then as I am
now."
"But now you're so small and... inhuman. Will you grow back?"
"No idea. It took me days to get this big and I seem to have hit a plateau."
"Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?!"
Ginny tried to soothe him with a touch to his shoulder. He didn't shrug her
away, so that was something.
Holly's words echoed from the Stone,"I didn't know what I was. Now I do- I'm
not human. Fine. It's not the first time I've been accused of being a magical
creature or even a monster for that matter. This changes the rules for me, but
it does not change the goal. My purpose remains- I'm still here to help you.
Please accept that I will always act in your interests as best I can."
Harry stood back and thought for a bit. He said, "How do we know that you
aren't like a brainwashed creature like Professor Dumbledore said?"
Somehow the Stone was able to accurately reproduce the sound of Holly scoffing
in protest. "I do not accept the idea that I have been programmed to be this
person. I am Holly; no one in their right mind would or could come up with the
bizarre circumstances that have ruled my life. It's just too perverse to have
been designed."
Harry nodded at her reasoning. Ginny just continued to stare at her,
fascinated.
The Stone's recitation continued, "I'm not a lizard, Harry. This is merely the
best form I could make when I got to this size. In fact..."
The ink drew itself into a smaller bubble without limbs, tail or head. It
wavered and rolled on the parchment for a bit, then sprouted upward into a
pillar shape. The pillar softened and rippled until it formed into Holly, only
a few inches tall and made of murky black and grey liquid.
Ginny smiled. "That's so cool."
"It's really you," Harry mumbled.
The mini-Holly made a gesture like kissing its hand and throwing that kiss out
towards him. The ink then collapsed into a ball again, reforming into the newt
shape.
The tail whipped around to scribe again, and Holly's voice echoed, "It's just
impractical to keep that shape when this is much more functional."
Harry turned to Ginny and frowned, prompting a defensive, "What?"
"Why are you taking this so well," Harry asked, "and doesn't it bother you that
she's this... thing?"
Rather than quip at him, Ginny took a moment to give him an honest answer. "No,
it doesn't bother me. Maybe that's what growing up with magic means, but I know
that Holly is the woman behind the voice, whatever form she takes. So long as
she's still with us, we can work around the other problems."
"Work around them?" he protested.
"C'mon, Harry! You always hear people saying how anything is possible with
magic, and seeing the stuff the twins come up with is fair proof of it." Ginny
turned to look at Holly. "This is, too. It's amazing and brilliant and
unexpected, but not unbelievable. Heck, if I get my body destroyed but still
have enough life to stick around, I am definitely aiming to make a little ink
body like this one."
"Start small, be patient and don't skip meals."
"Really?" Ginny snickered. "What did you eat?"
"Whatever I could swallow, so long as it had life to metabolise. Flavour isn't
a factor until you decide to grow taste buds."
Harry grabbed a glass that he'd drained of pumpkin juice earlier and shook out
the remaining drops clinging to the bottom so that they landed near Holly on
the parchment. A long tongue shot out from her mouth, whipping around much like
the tail did. It absorbed the fluid, briefly causing Holly's skin to take on an
orange cast before reverting to charcoal grey.
"Yummy. Thank you, sweetie." The ink that appeared beneath her tail tip was
noticeably darker.
"Holly? Look, about what happened in the library that night- I'm sorry. I was
overwhelmed. I-- OW!"
Ginny had punched him in the arm and raised her fists to threaten a second jab.
She couldn't help grinning, as well.
Harry shoved her in the shoulder in retaliation, protesting, "What's with--?"
"She told me to punch you if you ever apologised to her when she couldn't
reach," Ginny said with glee.
The Stone echoed a less-sadistic explanation; "Don't throw your apologies
around. I'm trying to teach you how to be awesome. You have to accept that
making choices that affect a bunch of people are likely to hurt at least some
of them. You can't make those choices if you're gonna feel all 'waaah' for
every bump and bruise they cause."
"But I made a mistake!" protested Harry, "I said what made sense at that moment
but it wasn't how I wanted to act!"
"Yeah, I got that. You lost control of your emotions and didn't act the way you
meant to. Something to work on- you should value your mistakes as they provide
a chance to learn. Despite that, you didn't do too badly."
"I got you incinerated!"
"No, you hurt my feelings and let me be arrested by a very polite lynch mob.
Being 'executed' was about me and Snape. He wouldn't have bothered me at all if
I didn't spook him by looking like your mum."
"But you are my mum... in a way. And why would that spook him?"
Ginny had been content to just listen, but this didn't add up for her. "She's
your mum?"
"I'm his mother's not-quite-evil twin. As for Snape, he saw my worst memory and
it provoked him somehow. I have some theories but he's quite a bit different
from the one I knew."
Ginny interjected, "What do you mean 'the one you knew'?"
Harry lost his concentration on the topic and looked up at Ginny. He gulped.
"H-Holly? Ideas?"
"Trust or don't trust- it's your choice, but remember that it's hard to take
back secrets."
"Thanks a bunch," he replied sourly. Harry looked down at the floor and back at
Ginny several times while she waited.
Harry's reply could mean so much to Ginny -positive or negative- that she was
willing to be patient... to a point. "Harry, you asked us to support you," she
implored, "and I can do that better if you let me in on what's what. I promise;
you can trust me." Ginny could see he was close to a decision, so she left her
last sentence to hang in the quiet.
After a bit Harry muled, "Y'know, you hit me a few minutes ago. I'm not sure
that helps your case."
"I'd consider it a selling point," Holly scribed, "You should put more trust in
the friends who will confront you if they think you're in the wrong."
"I just don't want to rush into this. Ginny, I need to talk with Holly, alone."
Ginny was two seconds from laying into him, but she bit back her anger. Instead
she stuck out her tongue at him. That made him smile, so she added a taunt; "I
dunno- you look like you're on the verge of another apology. Holly may need my
services."
"I'll keep a running tally, Ginny. Catch up with you later."
She leaned over and pet the ink creature one more time, then gave Harry an
unexpected wet kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.
For Ginny, nothing was more important than the fact Holly was back. Even
kissing Harry came second in her list of 'Things making me happy right now'.
                                    [[[]]]
Harry's frustrating morning was making too much noise in his head; too many
emotions were competing for precedence. Ever since Ginny had interrupted him
he'd felt off-balance. First it was curiosity, then a bit of lust, some guilt,
amusement, shock, fear, anger, joy, more anger... at the moment embarrassment
currently 'had the floor'.
"I... uh... should probably explain that."
"I've seen kisses before, Harry. Yours with Ginny earlier was really hot."
"H-holly, I'm sor-- I mean... I didn't mean to betray you with Ginny!"
There was a pause before the lizard's tail started moving again. "How did you
betray me, exactly?"
"By... by getting close with someone else. I kissed another girl."
"Harry, I understand your concern. It's very decent of you to consider my
feelings. It doesn't apply to me."
"Why not?"
"Aside from the fact that I'm now five ounces of magic goo? I don't believe in
hoarding affection. I'm not greedy about love."
Harry felt the sentences should mean something, but they weren't translating
properly. "I'm not sure I understand."
"If a man and woman in love have a baby, and the woman says she loves the baby,
did she betray the man? If she says she loves her sister, her brother, her
father or even cups of hot cocoa, are these also sins of disloyalty?"
"She's not kissing the cocoa," Harry countered, "She's not having sex with her
baby."
"I dunno... sometimes nursing can be very, very satisfying for everyone
involved. Indecently so."
He couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut and seethe, "Hols!"
"All I'm trying to point out is that I love certain people, but I don't expect
them to only get love from me- in fact I'dratherthey had more sources than me,
since I tend to be suicidally obnoxious. Jealousy and I don't interact anymore.
Monogamy is as mythical to me as the Easter Bunny. I know others believe in it,
so I won't spoil their fun. I knew you would expect me to be exclusive, which
was why Sirius was denied a kiss when he made a move on me. Primarily. I had
other reasons as well."
As he took this in, Harry was reminded of the moment in the Atrium when Holly
said she knew all along that he was going to face a full hearing. As then, he
felt like she had been preparing him but without warning him what he was
heading into, so that he could learn without feeling intimidated.
"You make it sound as if being with only one person is against human nature."
"Pretty much. If it were natural we'd stay satisfied when we'd found someone
willing and compatible. Instead we keep sniffing after newcomers with nifty
features. You trying to stay celibate for me is touching, but I find it almost
as ridiculous as if you had promised to hop on your left foot for the rest of
your life, to honour me. It's sweet, but really, really unnecessary, to the
point of being embarrassing. Don't waste the effort- yours or mine. After all,
I wasn't teaching you about sex just to keep you for myself. I want you to use
your skills with others. Treat them well, and expertly, and I'll have done my
job."
And there was the other shoe. It put their relationship into a different
framework- one where 'teacher-student' was more important, more valuable, even
more meaningful than 'lover-beloved'. He felt a clenching pain just below his
ribcage. It literally hurt him to realise that she didn't see sex the same way
he did, and yet he couldn't accuse her of misleading him because it also fit
with everything Holly had taught him. As a lover she could make him feel good
for a time, but as a teacher she'd given him ideas that would affect him for
the rest of his life. She was both, and felt no shame in it. He recalled Holly
saying, 'I threw out any rule that didn't have real, practical value.'
Harry dropped to sit at the edge of the bed, shaking his head as if there was
water trapped in his ears. "How did you get to be like this?"
"I've been learning how minds work for quite a while, Harry. It changes your
perspective on people when you realise how much ugliness is left unsaid."
"You mean you've been invading other people's minds for quite a while. You
should stop that."
"Um, no. I mean, I suppose I could, much as you could stuff wax in your ears so
that you don't accidentally overhear someone telling their friend a secret. I
keep sifting other people because it comes naturally at this point, and I see
many more reasons to continue than not. Much like you and your ears, though, I
know to keep quiet about what I learn."
"How can you justify that?"
"My enemies did it first! I'm following in the flawed footsteps of my
forefathers, Fate-wise. How else would Albus have known I was peeking around?"
"Y'mean he's a mind reader? I knew it!"
"More like mind-listener and the official term is a Legilimens, but I prefer
the term telepath due to my interest in comic books. We're all potential
telepaths, Harry. You just have to learn how to tune your antennae to it and be
willing to intrude.
"Albus figured it out all on his own when he was very young in order to
understand his family and others around him... and he never stopped. It gave
him quite the advantage when learning from people rather than books, though
credit must be given to him for having a mind that could leverage that access.
"Tom Riddle figured it out while trying to survive life in an orphanage during
the Depression... and never stopped. Snape learned it... well, I'm not sure if
it's the case here, but in my world, Lily learned it from Mrs. Flamel and
taught it to Snape, who used it to better survive in Slytherin. It took him a
bit to get it down to a reflex, but once he had..."
"He didn't stop. So he's been in my mind, too? Bastard!"
"Ugh. Harry, as a regular visitor to other people's brains, I can assure you
that I always find out much less about what I'm looking for and so much more
than I want to know about the person. It's like looking through their rubbish,
not their secret journals, nor even their photo albums. It will increase your
understanding of human behavior, but ruins the charm and mystique. No one is as
innocent as they appear. It takes a strong stomach and a disciplined mind to
handle seeing the truth of how people function."
"Are you still looking into my mind?"
There was a pause in the lizard tail's movement, and Harry looked up to glare
at Holly.
"Harry, it can't be helped. From the moment we first touched, I've had a sense
for where you were and when we touch I feel what you're feeling. Looking into
your eyes to get more info on your life was easy, so much so that you didn't
even notice. It's because I was in your head to begin with, or rather, just
outside of it. My soul is... well let's say it runs at the same frequency as
the one that protects you and keeps that taint in your scar from taking over
your mind. We've twin souls, your mum and I, for obvious reasons. If it weren't
for that I probably wouldn't keep coming back."
Harry's expression softened.
"Many wizards know that Legilimency exists but few really consider what that
means. You can either accept that a few rude people like myself will intrude on
your unprotected boundaries, or you can protect them. Most people will think
you're paranoid to bother putting locks on your rubbish bin lids.
"I am paranoid! I've got good reason to be!"
"Which is why I'm teaching you how to bother."
"You're going to teach me to block telepathy? Cool."
"You're so funny... I'm going tocontinue teaching you how to manage and defend
your mind. We've already started down this path."
"Y'mean the acting and masks thing?"
"Yes. The acting and masks thing. Officially it's called Occlumency."
Harry was certain he'd trip over that word. "What do you call it?"
"Defensive Mind Arts, or 'How to become a sociopath in fifteen not-so-easy
steps'."
"You're trying to turn me into a psycho?"
"Well, not all the time but... yeah. I am. It's a skill you need to master if
you want to get in on the big boys' game. Y'know who else knows this stuff?"
"Voldemort?"
"Not as a skill, no. He is a true psycho, so he never had to study
disassociating from his emotions. Huh. Might explain why he's having trouble
keeping you out. No, I'm referring to Professors Dumbledore, Snape, Flitwick,
and Alastor Moody. They all have a working knowledge of Occlumency, to one
level or another. They also have another thing in common. Can you guess?"
"They're all skilled... and old. Do they have a destiny as well?"
"Snape's not that old, and I was thinking more about a direct correlation.
They're the most dangerous duelists in Britain. They can dispassionately
evaluate a situation and act on it without being distracted by panic, anxiety
or even pain to some extent."
"Is that why Flitwick always seems to be too cheerful? He's faking it?"
"No idea- it's not like I've ever gotten into his head. Good theory, though."
Even in the form of a blob of ink, hearing Holly's approval gave Harry a warm
rush of pride, but then his mood soured. "If you're so jaded about people, how
could you honestly say that you love me?"
The ink newt didn't write a reply for a minute, giving Harry entirely too much
time to wonder how he could trust her if she answered as he was dreading.
The scratching on the parchment resumed. The stone echoed, "My God, Harry.
Don't you understand? I've been through most of what you have, and I've sifted
deep into your memories. I know you in ways no mother should and what startles
me most is how you still have hope and trust and belief in others and care for
your friends... and even your enemies. For all that Dudley has done to you, the
thought of seeing him fall victim to a Dementor offended you. With how you were
raised you shouldn't even believe that justice exists, yet you're more noble in
your heart than any wizard I've met. How could I not love you?"
Harry's heart swelled.
"Our challenge, then, is to make you a bastard on the outside without killing
the noble heart on the inside. First task- to see if we can build you a mental
barricade spiny enough to keep out the Headmaster."
                                    [[[]]]
Sirius came up to check on Harry, which resulted in a brief conversation about
how they planned to handle the Headmaster's visit. Sirius was then chased out
of his room to allow Harry to focus on some sort of emergency meditation.
Sirius returned an hour before the Headmaster was expected, finding Harry
crashed in the bed but still fully clothed. He was tempted to prank him awake,
but Sirius knew it would be ill-timed. Instead he gave him a firm shake to the
shoulder and warned him that Professor Dumbledore would be coming by very soon.
"You need to get your game face on."
His godson stumbled out of bed towards the loo while mumbling, "Working on it."
Half an hour later, Sirius was with the Weasleys sitting around the basement
kitchen table when green flames burned high in the hearth, expelling the
Headmaster into the room a moment later. His sky-blue and grey robes shook off
the ashes 'automagically', as Tonks would say.
"Good evening, all."
Sirius squinted at him. "We'll see about that, Albus. Harry should be here any-
-"
As if on cue, Harry banged open the kitchen door and strode in. Before anyone
could voice a greeting he said, "I'd like to talk with the Headmaster
privately. Could you lot wait outside for a bit? Sirius, you should stay... and
Mrs. Weasley, too, please."
Sirius was surprised by that, but seeing Molly look equally startled was
reassuring. Once everyone else had shuffled out, the four of them gathered at
the end of the table. Sirius sat at the head with Harry on his right side and
Albus opposite. Molly settled into the seat on Harry's other side.
The Headmaster looked eager. "I'm not afraid to say, Harry, that I was very
glad to hear that you wanted to speak to me."
Harry answered but kept his eyes aimed at the table between them. "This isn't a
reconciliation, sir. We have a problem that I'm told only you can solve. Our
Fidelius Charm appears to be failing. I'd like it if you could recast the
charm."
Dumbledore looked concerned. "If the Fidelius is failing, that usually means
that the secret has been betrayed by the secret keeper. I most certainly have
not betrayed--"
Rather than have an argument over Dumbledore's culpability in recent events,
Sirius interjected, "We have reason to believe that my losing trust in you has
jeopardized the stability of the charm. It hasn't been broken, but the strain
is showing. Don't ask how we know. It isn't important right now."
"Very well," Dumbledore accepted, but then his eyebrows drew together. "If the
charm is failing due to distrust between us, as you believe, then how will my
recasting the charm change things?"
"Simple," Harry said, "You won't be the secret-keeper anymore. That honour will
fall on Mrs. Weasley, if she's willing."
Sirius snapped a look at Harry and hissed, "Are you mental? I thought we agreed
you'd be the keeper. Why her?"
Harry turned slowly from staring at Dumbledore's hands to staring Sirius in the
face. His expression was nearly corpse-like in its lack of emotion.
"You may not agree with Mrs. Weasley about many things, Sirius, but tell me if
I'm wrong about any of this: do you think that Molly would ever betray you to
the Ministry, or give away our secrets?"
"No, but--"
"Is Mrs. Weasley likely to be sent on dangerous missions that take her out of
contact for long periods of time?"
"I suppose not, but--"
"And if our enemies were to capture her, do you think anyone in the Order
wouldn't volunteer to go on the mission to rescue her? I certainly can count
eight redheads along with myself who would break any law... or head... that
interfered with getting Mrs. Weasley home safely. Even Percy would rally to
that cause."
Mrs. Weasley was blushing to her ear tips and now let out a sob, throwing her
arms around Harry's stiff shoulders. He remained impassive, staring Sirius
down.
Sirius couldn't help but chuckle. "You are not James," he said, then added as
explanation, "For that, I think I might trust you more as a leader."
Harry's expression threatened to break from its focused resolve, but Sirius
could see Harry renewing his concentration before giving a sharp nod.
Sirius turned back to the Headmaster and said, "There you have it. We'd like
you to recast the Fidelius with our new secret-keeper. In exchange, as with our
original bargain, we'll allow the Order to operate here once more, though we'd
prefer the Order wait until after the first of September to start meeting
here."
Harry added, "Except Snape."
Dumbledore's placid smile turned to a look of concern. "Harry, I imagine that
you might consider Professor Snape a murderer," he said, then paused as if
trying to judge if his assumption was accurate. He continued, "But he was
acting against what he saw as a threat to the Order. Professor Snape is loyal
to our cause and I would like it if he was permitted this safe harbour."
Harry countered, "He acted stupidly, sir, and destroyed someone important to me
because of his own... issues, not because of anything to do with the Order.
Honestly, I don't care if you think it's unfair, or inconvenient. Snape isn't
allowed." Harry then turned to Mrs. Weasley; "I want you to promise me that you
won't share the secret with him, or hand out a written permission that might be
used to allow him free entrance."
Molly nodded and replied, "I swear, Harry."
Sirius scoffed and said, "Do you?"
Molly let out a snort of irritation and said, "Is this the measure of your
trust, Sirius Black? I said I swear and I meant it."
Harry looked first at Sirius and then back to Molly. "One more time, do you
promise not to tell the secret to or otherwise allow Severus Snape to know the
secrets of this house?"
Mrs. Weasley turned back to him, raised her hand and solemnly swore, "I shall
never allow Severus Snape to know the secrets entrusted to me. Any of them."
Dumbledore made a 'hmm' sound and then mused, "That's three times you swore. I
suppose that it's not really debatable any longer. Very well." He stood up and
said, "I will need to gather supplies and a bit of rest before we can fulfill
this agreement. We'll meet tomorrow then?"
Harry, Sirius and Mrs. Weasley all stood as well. The Headmaster bowed, said,
"Your servant," and promptly exited through the Floo.
Sirius clapped Harry on the shoulder. "How're your defenses holding up?"
"I feel like I've been standing at attention for four days straight. Did he
even try to break into my mind?"
"Who knows? If you didn't feel anything I'd say he either didn't push hard or
he didn't try because he could see you were working at keeping up a defense.
Well done, Harry."
Molly Weasley had shuffled back to the larder to explore options for dinner.
Harry verified she was out of earshot and then whispered, "That 'three-times
sworn' thing; what happens if it's broken?"
"The oathbreaker feels a twisting pain in their gut until they confess to the
person that they broke their promise."
"That's it?"
Sirius shrugged. "Yeah. We used to play 'Truth or Dare' under that vow. Still,
it works because it's simple."
                                    [[[]]]
Molly returned from the pantry to find Harry slumped onto the kitchen table,
eyes resting on his crossed forearms, his glasses lain on the table nearby.
Sirius had wandered off, no doubt to find a bottle of whisky.
Over the next hour the rest of the family filtered in; Molly had started
cooking dinner and her brood had followed the scent of baking bread, tarragon
and thyme, gathering at the table awaiting either the meal or word on how the
negotiation came out.
As things were coming along well in the cooking, Molly touched Harry's
shoulder, causing him to jerk up from his doze.
"Take a moment to splash some water on your face, Harry dear," she encouraged.
"I'll be serving up the soup by the time you get back."
He pushed himself to standing with an idle nod and went out the door, headed
for the nearest loo.
Bill must have drawn the short straw, as he asked, "Can you tell us anything,
Mum?"
"Well, I'd like to think Harry wouldn't mind my sharing, but just the same we
ought to wait for him, so that we're all hearing the same thing."
With that discussion tabled, everyone relaxed into lighter conversations.
Molly was a bit concerned for how quiet everyone had gotten. A quiet family
isn't a happy one. Thankfully the sounds of beloved chaos grew as the soup was
steeping.
First there was Hermione's cat. Molly had always preferred cats, though dogs
had their value as well. Crookshanks was large enough to qualify as a stunted
lynx for as much mousing as he accomplished. Crookshanks had added liveliness
in chasing something from underneath the table- one less rodent near her
kettles was always welcome.
Of course her twin troublemakers were ever dependable to add life to a group.
Just minutes after the cat had begun prowling, Fred's pocket let out a pathetic
tuneless whistling, prompting him to accuse Ronald of trying to pickpocket him.
George added his support but then his own trousers made a sound like some sort
of foghorn, and there was no way that Hermione would have been trying anything
with his pockets, surely?
Arthur arrived through the Floo in good cheer, giving Molly a welcome kiss and
asking about everyone's day. Just as he was sitting down he stood again,
exclaiming that Ronald's little owl had been occupying the chair and - of
course, the owl then started racing in flight from one end of the room to the
other.
Now, it wasn't that Molly felt that Nymphadora wasn't well-suited to the family
given her own liveliness, but the poor dear would never survive active pranking
by the children when her feet lived to prank her on their own. Two steps into
the kitchen and her red-and-blonde striped hair followed the rest of her body
to the floor. Miss Tonks protested that she had slipped on something slippery
beneath her foot, but that was hardly likely- Molly had been certain to have
the mops wash and dry the floors well before the arrival of the Headmaster.
It was to this grand cacophony that Harry returned with Sirius and Remus.
With everyone assembled, it was high time to serve some soup, but Harry called
everyone to his attention first.
"We've agreed to open Grimmauld Place to the Order again. Since most of us are
going to Hogwarts in a few days, it makes little sense to waste it as a
resource. The Fidelius charm will be reapplied tomorrow and the secret shared
with each of you before we leave for the station."
"Now is that not just a relief," Molly declared. "I was worried a bit there,
but now that Professor Dumbledore is with us again--"
"Let me be clear," Harry interrupted, "the Underground Army is alive and
kicking. We're a subset, a special group that is allied with the Order of the
Phoenix, but our secrets are ours, and at some point I may ask you to act
against the Order, for our sakes."
There was silence. Molly recalled that no one had scolded her like that since
Charlie had declared his intent to give up Quidditch to learn about dragon-
keeping. She felt as proud now as she did then, though of course one shouldn't
lose all respect just for admitting that they may have overstepped their
authority.
Molly held her tongue from following the more Prewett urge and said evenly,
"I'm with you, Harry dear. I'm just pleased that we're... getting along with
some people that I respect."
"Fair enough," Harry replied, and gave Molly a smile. The rest of the table
seemed to grin as one.
It was Ronald of course who said what they were all thinking; "Can't help but
respect a guy that can make Mum change her tone."
Before Molly could yell at him, Ron had bolted up from the table with an
emphatic "Gyahh!" Grabbing a heavy pan from a hook on the wall, he smacked it
flat against the table and his chair several times in a panic. He added a last
smack with the pan before tossing it to the table, then stumbling back against
the wall and breathing like he'd just run in from Devonshire. Everyone stared
at him in shock.
"Biggest bloody spider I seen since Aragog just jumped onto my arm!"
Harry gave him a look, then lurched forward to lift up the pan- stuck to the
bottom was a black tarry form, squished flat. The mass of it slid off the
bottom of the pan to land on the table, spreading into a thick pool like
spilled paint.
"That... was Holly."
Ron gaped like a fish, looking between Harry, the table, Molly herself,
Hermione- anyone that might not hate him at that moment.
It was then that a thin black tendril rose from the center of the mass,
reaching over to an empty white butter dish. One word was drawn on the plate
before the tendril retracted back to the puddle.
'Ow!'
Sirius sputtered into laughing.
The black liquid drew together into a ball, then extended six protrusions that
eventually formed into a head, four clawed limbs and a long thin tail.
The tail swept over the plate, taking away the existing writing and
substituting, 'really, ouch.'
Arthur said, "Eh, Harry, are you saying that this... intriguing creature is
your friend, Holly?"
Harry nodded. "I already said she's a spirit with a physical form. Pretty
durable one, too. D'you think the Headmasters would let Peeves live if they
could get rid of him?" He shared a wink with Sirius, who was still cackling.
On the table appeared new words; 'Dumbledore might.'
The rest joined Sirius in his laughter.
The Sounding Stone was brought down from Sirius' room along with a page of
parchment. For the remainder of the evening they were reacquainted with Holly
in a form that most agreed seemed much less provocative than she used to be.
                                    [[[]]]
In the process of everyone readying for bed that night, Harry conspired with
Ginny to sneak off into the study beside the library. Once both were inside
with the door safely Imperturbed, Ginny crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
Harry gave her a rueful smile. "I do trust you. Holly trusts you, too. She's
gonna sit down with you to teach you some stuff; it's important that you study
it. I can't tell you much until you've learned this. Okay?"
"Merlin, no, it's not okay! I mean, I'll be happy to learn from Holly but I
think you should at least tell me who she really is."
Harry's face contorted, a mix of frustration, longing and remorse. Finally he
gestured for her to lean forward and he whispered secrets into her ear. It
didn't take long, and Harry explained why Holly's extraordinary origin made
sense to him.
They leaned back and Ginny glared at him for a full minute, letting his anxiety
grow as punishment for not explaining this earlier. She then smiled and said,
"So I take it that you're not really a couple, and that your... that Holly
approves of me."
Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah. She's a fan. Says you've got a lot of
promise."
Ginny grinned and grabbed Harry into a hug. She then leaned back and kissed
him.
It became a lusty snog.
When they broke the kiss, both were grinning.
She cupped her hand against Harry's cheek and added a peck to his lips as a
'thank you'. She then stood up and moved to the door, prompting Harry to
protest with, "Hey, hey- I thought... you wanted to go further."
Ginny blushed and admitted, "It'd be a fine thing, but I can't be your
girlfriend right now. I'm still exploring, still figuring things out. When I
get you... I'll want to keep you."
Harry sat back and considered this. "So, not 'no', just 'not yet'?"
"Yeah. Besides...," Ginny began.
Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed from behind the door, "Ginevra?! Where have you
gotten off to?"
"-- my mother would kill you, and then where would our army be?"
Harry nodded in agreement and then covered himself in his Invisibility Cloak.
Ginny opened the door and answered her mother, "I was putting things back where
they belong like a good girl, Mummy."
                                    [[[]]]
Dumbledore arrived in the morning. Soon after, he, Sirius and Ron's mum
disappeared into the house somewhere. Ron had gone looking for something fun to
do with someone, since it was only a few days before they'd be back at school.
He found Harry sitting in his bed, reading, with a notebook by his side.
"You want to play some Exploding Snap?" asked Ron.
Harry replied, "I'm in the middle of this, and I think I may actually be
getting it for once."
Ron grumped and sat down across from Harry.
"What?"
"I've been your best mate ever since we started at Hogwarts."
Harry squinted at him. "You still are."
"But you're talking with everyone but me and Hermione. Is this still about the
letters?"
"No, Ron. I... I'm not angry- I'm focused. If you want to dig into this with
me, that'd be great."
"Great! What're we doing first?"
Harry held up the book he was reading- 'Theories of Transubstantial
Transfiguration'.
"Oh. I thought, y'know, we'd be practicing curses or something."
"This somewhat relates, but maybe you could ask Lupin or Sirius for some better
defense books. We need some tricks that Malfoy and his lumps won't expect. You
learn them and then teach me."
"Sirius is busy, and I don't know how to teach magic."
Harry looked up at him and said, "Then ask Lupin to show you that, too."
Taking it for the dismissal it was, Ron left Harry to his studying.
When Ron found Hermione in the library a bit later she was sitting with her
legs beneath her in a cute way that reminded him of a curled-up cat. She was
reading - of course. He slumped into the sofa next to her, puffing up the rest
of the cushion and jostling her out of reading position.
"Yes?" she said with irritation, but only enough that Ron knew he could ignore
it.
"Harry says he's not mad, but then he made me ask Sirius for books to read. If
he wasn't ignoring you as well, I'd suspect that you'd jinxed his brain."
"Some light reading can be quite enjoyable, even energizing--"
Ron grabbed her hand. She looked at him and he used this to catch her eyes.
When he knew she was paying full attention he said, "I'm not you."
"I noticed." Hermione closed her book and gave Ron another look. "Perhaps I've
missed something. You're right; you're not me. Reading is my pleasure, but I'd
swear you find it painful. Maybe you should ask someone to instruct you
directly."
"Yeah, well, everyone else is reading or writing or... hiding. I'm beginning to
bond with your cat, learning how to chase butterbeer caps and enjoy sunbeams.
Pretty soon the most you'll get out of me is a loud purr."
Hermione blushed and whispered, "That wouldn't be completely horrible."
Ron smiled but then let out a frustrated breath. "I can't just sit, y'know?"
"What do you enjoy doing when you can't go outside?"
"Stuff done with other people- chess, joking around, eating."
"There you go- ask your Mum to teach you how to cook."
"What? But that's witch's--"
Hermione's eyes flared. Ron was quick enough to recognise that his original
thought might earn him a hex or ten if he finished it. His mouth snapped shut
and he gave her a pained grin.
"Good idea," he said instead. "Think I'll go talk to Mum."
Not surprisingly, Ron found his mother back in the kitchen.
"Dumbledore gone then?"
His mum sighed and nodded. "The Headmaster is... a formidable sorcerer, but
even he would be tired after that involved of a ritual. Sirius has gone to rest
as well. Now off with you- I'll have something knocked up once I've caught my
own breath."
"That's just it- I was wondering if you could show me how to do this stuff. You
could take a load off."
"This stuff? What are you talking about?"
"Cooking."
His mum just gaped at him.
"What? I figure I'll be eating for the rest of my life; might as well find out
how to make it enjoyable. I won't be at home or in school forever."
His mother blinked at him. He heard her mutter, "Can't be a boggart unless it's
a very silly one... a bit late for a changeling to abduct him..."
"Mum... if it makes you feel any better, I'm asking because I'm THAT bored."
"Oh. Well that's fine then. Grab two of the large pots and fill them two-thirds
full with water."
                                    [[[]]]
Harry went to bed that night looking forward to sleep... up until Riddle
restarted his dream terrorism. Tonight's feature involved a very detailed and
unforgiving view of the death of Marlene McKinnon and her family. No
extraordinary abuses were used on her- they had simply made her watch while
they Cruciated and then killed each of her family members first. Harry had
pulled himself out of the scene somewhere around where Marlene was begging for
them to spare her little brother if she'd let them use her body. Riddle had
answered, "Is he worth so little to you, that you would offer something we
already have and don't even want?"
He slumped his way downstairs, eventually curling up onto the sofa near the
fireplace in the library.
Harry stared into the dying embers, trying to meditate since sleeping wasn't
working out. In breaking out of his nightmare from Riddle, Harry had noted that
his command mask slipped into place as soon as he could concentrate on it.
While that cut down the panic he felt from being a voyeur to a multiple murder,
it wasn't... aimed in the right direction. If most entries to a person's mind
came from their eyes, this felt more like it was bubbling up from a well behind
his throat.
He was visualizing a sewer grate to install over the well when he heard voices
echoing from the hallway.
"... couldn't ask this during the day. Please, Tonks. I don't have a sister or
even many friends who are girls."
"Yeah, but how'd you guess I'd be experienced with this?"
"I didn't! So you've been... with other witches?"
"Hermione--"
"I'm not trying to blackmail you."
"Good thing, 'cause I'd do horrible things to you."
"Is this... do you not want to because... I'm not... pretty?"
There was a pause, then Harry heard a rustle of clothes, followed by the quiet
wet sound of kissing. He heard one moan, then another, followed by a gasp.
Hermione warbled, "Ohhh... what I'm I going to tell my parents? I think I'm...
sorta gay."
"Not really. I'm just that awesome a kisser. You didn't meld to me or grab my
arse or nudge our legs together. Of course, the real test would be for you to
kiss a bloke for comparison." Tonks' voice rose as she added, "Think you could
help with that, Harry?"
Hermione yelped as Harry stood up from the sofa to face them. Harry saw that
Tonks was holding Hermione from running off with a tight grip on her wrist.
He stated, "I didn't come here to eavesdrop- I was here and you were talking."
"Yeah, but are you willing to help with the experiment?" Tonks asked with a
wink.
"Yes. Love to."
Hermione stopped struggling and gaped at him.
He strolled around the furniture to join them so they wouldn't have to speak
too loudly. He said, "That is, if Hermione wants me to. I don't know what she
thinks of me right now. Wouldn't think she wants me to kiss her like you did."
"Yes, I would!"
"That's new," Harry replied, "I didn't think you saw me that way. Just tell me
the honest truth- how do you see me?"
Tonks had released her wrist, so Hermione stepped closer to Harry and looked up
at him. "It's changing, Harry. I always saw you as you, but now you're someone
older. Someone more awake. Someone..." she turned away, looking at her feet
instead of Harry, "...who doesn't need me nagging at him. I should just let you
be. I'm bad for your army and I don't agree with--"
With a gentle touch beneath her jawline, Harry lifted her face and kissed her.
Hermione kissed him back, despite her nervous and dry lips.
She broke the kiss and said in a rapid babble, "Of course it isn't that I don't
believe in you, Harry, or that I think less of you but you have to understand
that I'm surrounded by much more fanciable women and my focus was never on my
looks so much as my words because my mother always told me to make sure they
respect you before you give them anything, which I imagine would apply to
either girls or boys that kiss me, not that three different kissers tells me
much--"
He kissed her again, lifting her body against his and making very certain she
felt the full weight of his passion in kissing her. He ignored her squeaks and
moans of protest until her tongue was interacting just as wildly as his. Then,
he broke the kiss and set her back onto her feet. She sighed. Then her legs
gave out and she collapsed on the spot, collecting into a crumple sitting on
the carpet.
Tonks asked, "So, which one stirs you better, now?"
"I liked Harry's," she said almost drunkenly as she clambered back to standing,
"It was more... more... honest."
Tonks scowled at her. "Honest. Really."
"Yes," Hermione said. Her sense of propriety awoke and she turned wide-eyed to
Tonks, sputtering, "Not that yours was dishonest, it wasn't, and I am ever so
delighted to have you kissing me!" Then she turned to Harry, "I mean, not
delighted, exactly, more like grateful, but Tonks' kissing was very
professional, whereas --"
Tonks cut her off with, "Yeah, yeah we get it. Now, shut up about my lying
courtesan's lips, willya?" Her expression of patience with a smile assured them
both that Tonks was much more amused than insulted.
Hermione turned back to Harry and said, "You really do care for me?"
Harry's mouth went dry. After insisting that Hermione speak plainly, he
couldn't bear to muddle things. "I... I think you're a pain."
Tonks let out a guffaw similar to a honking goose, then stifled it. Thankfully
the portraits hadn't woken from the noise.
Harry glared at her, then explained to Hermione, "You're a brilliant, brilliant
pain. I love you for it, but I would never want to be married to it. Not sure I
could stand dating it, even. But I need you, Hermione. I need you to keep me
honest. Everyone asks, 'Why isn't she a Ravenclaw?' but I can tell why the hat
put you in Gryffindor. Your smarts aren't half as strong as your convictions."
Hermione just stared at him, blinking.
"That wasn't exactly nice to hear, I s'pose," Harry admitted, "You're not mad,
are you?"
"No, no," she squeaked, "that was quite welcome." Hermione cleared her
constricted throat and then stepped closer. Harry decided to interpret it as a
need for a hug and opened his arms to give her one. Instead of her typical
stranglehold, Hermione cuddled into his embrace. From where she had snuggled
her face into his shoulder, she said, "I get that you don't want to date me.
But would you be willing to put up with me for the night?"
"What, really? Why?"
"Because I want to. I want to repair what's been broken between us. And I've
already humiliated myself several times over this evening, so I might as well
charge forward. We don't have to do anything wild- I just want to sleep next to
you so you'll know you can trust me."
Harry liked the sound of that, if only to try getting a full night's rest in a
way he hadn't since Holly had lost human form.
"O-okay. Can't use either of our beds, though. Wouldn't do for us to be caught
here in the morning. So, where?"
Hermione looked around the library, a bit distressed. Then she looked at Tonks
and a growing idea lit up her face.
"Oh. Oh no! I like my bed here. It's so biiig and soooft and waaarm." Tonks'
plaintive whine became a growl; "and mine."
"We wouldn't mess it up," Hermione promised, "we just can't go back to our own
beds. It'll be the greatest favour I'd ask of anyone and I'm asking you- would
you please be me for the night and sleep in my room next to Ginny?"
"Eh... I walked into this, didn't I? It's 'cause I can't say 'no' to a mission
of love. Alright- take off your jammies."
"What?!"
"Well, I have to look like you and dress like you, don't I? I need to see the
whole package."
Harry's smile and nod in encouragement didn't make Hermione any less nervous.
"You- turn around, at least. And give me your dressing gown."
Harry handed over his bathrobe and turned his back to the girls but paid strict
attention to the shifting of clothes, murmurs and a few giggles that reached
his ears. When he was permitted to turn back, he was facing two Hermiones. One
was dressed as before, though she was standing in a much more relaxed stance
and had a saucy smile growing.
The other had his simple dark blue dressing gown tied twice around her. Her
legs were exposed from above the knee, showing bare smooth skin from the hem to
her ankle socks. Tonks' clothes had vanished somehow- no doubt Hermione didn't
see a need to wear them and they couldn't be left there in the library.
Harry led the latter Hermione up three flights of stairs and into Tonks' room-
a small bedroom with a smudged-over window but with a plush Queen-size bed
meant for guests that the matriarch had actually liked. He gestured for
Hermione to choose a side and she murmured, "You get in first."
He clambered over to the side nearer the window.
Hermione saw that he was settled but looking at her. "Take off your glasses."
As he was turned away to put his spectacles on the bedside table, Hermione had
dropped the bathrobe to the floor and leapt into bed and under the covers
before Harry could see her in her underthings.
They lay facing each other. Harry reached over to move some of her curls away
from her face. She grabbed an elastic from around her wrist, using it to bind
her mass of curls into a ponytail anchored at the top of her head. Watching her
bare arms and shoulders wrestling her hair into a bun was enjoyable - her skin
was flawless and her movements titillating - but he kept his hands to himself.
He could feel her nervousness.
He said, "I didn't assume when you asked to spend the night that you meant that
you wanted to have sex."
"I didn't."
"But you also seem really nervous, like you're expecting me to molest you or
something anyway. What would you want?"
"I want to be closer." Her pained expression put the burden on Harry to figure
out what that meant. Perhaps it was the fear of returning to his nightmare or
just a yearning for a different relationship with Hermione, but Harry resolved
that he wanted to take this indecision on her part as far as he could.
"Turn around."
Hermione hesitated, but then turned her back to him. He reached his arm around
her to lay it on her belly. With a pull he said, "Shuffle back against me."
She spooned up against him, her knickers barely providing a barrier from the
feeling of the hard rod rising in his sleep pants. She let out an 'oh!' but
made no other comment.
Noting that she continued to lie stiff and nervous, he said, "I have noticed
that you're a girl, Hermione. I still respect your opinion."
Harry leaned up on a propped arm, letting Hermione's shoulders lay flat on the
mattress. Her satin camisole clung to her skin, exposing every subtle curve in
the moonlight. She moved a hand to cover her breasts but Harry grabbed her
wrist and shook his head. Instead, as he moved her hand to pin it by her
shoulder, he also reached down to gather the satin in his hand, dragging the
fabric up to expose her breasts to him. The fabric tickled her skin as it was
drawn across her chest and she hissed from the intensity of feeling.
"But you're definitely a girl."
They were mesmerizing, those breasts that were rising and falling with each of
Hermione's nervous breaths. He was intrigued in how they swelled round up to
the peak, tight to her chest as if gravity hadn't been able to affect them yet.
Hermione pulled her arm out of his hand but rested it to the side, the hand
curled next to her head on the pillow. She looked up at him, her focus jumping
from eyes to lips to shoulders, and widening to search his face for a clue into
what he was thinking or feeling or planning.
He leant down and kissed her lips. The hand he'd left resting near her wrist he
now slid to follow her arm to her shoulder, his wrist just grazing across a
bare nipple as he moved fingers along her collarbone.
Hermione's breathing grew quite heavy. Harry leaned back from kissing her to
find her expression to be quite anxious.
"Hey, hey, relax. We won't do anything you don't want to. We can stop."
"That's just it, Harry. I'm not sure where I'd want to stop."
He moved his hand over to cup around her breast, flicking the nipple between
thumb and forefinger. Hermione's panting came a bit shallow.
"Is this alright?"
"J-just... could you at least kiss me when you do that?"
Harry smiled. "Sure." He then leaned down while shifting his position and took
the other nipple between his lips.
"Not like... ohhhh, God." Her shallow gasps were replaced by a pained whine. A
lazy lick to her peak resulted in the nipple tightening to a nub and her
threading her hands in his hair.
Harry could feel her legs moving together restlessly, but was enjoying her
chest enough that he'd wait for her to ask him for more.
Her whine turned into short close-mouth squeaks, until she let out a loud gasp
and said, "Harry, please... please kiss me, or touch me or let me go or--"
A light scrape of teeth closing on her nipple made her arch up from the bed.
Harry used the moment to shift the hand away from massaging her breast, gliding
down between her legs to cup her soaked knickers.
Hermione's fingers dug into his scalp but then pulled him away from her breast.
Harry caught her look of yearning and shifted up to kiss her, a move that was
answered by a hot tongue snaking between his teeth.
Harry rubbed and swirled his fingers against her knickers. She tilted her head
back to break their kiss and hiccupped a pained moan.
He whispered in her ear, "I'm going to dip my fingers deep into you."
Hermione's eyes popped open in panic, but then she nodded.
Harry threaded his fingers beneath the fabric, soaked and glazed with her
fluids, sliding between her nether lips and following the flow downslope to
insert two into her channel. It was tight at the entrance, but there was room
enough to slip his long digits in to the knuckle and curl his fingers up into
the hot folds of flesh. Harry then nudged against her clit with the heel of his
thumb.
That did her in. Harry's fingers were trapped in the furiously clenching
channel while Hermione's hips lifted up from the bed and vibrated from the
tremors of her thigh muscles seizing in spasms of ecstasy. Her arms flailed at
the elbow, not sure where to grip but unable to stay idle.
She then collapsed, like every muscle had been turned off and left to twitch
out a lingering static charge. Her legs were yet clamped in a bind, trapping
Harry's hand at the apex of her thighs.
It took several minutes for Hermione's gasping, trembling and twitching to
settle down. By the time Harry had pulled out his fingers, the witch was almost
weeping against his chest.
Hermione surprised him then by grabbing his soaked hand. She drew it up to her
lips, locking her gaze with his as she licked his fingers of their dewy glaze.
She stared at him a minute, then rolled away from him. She moaned, "I can't
believe I just did that."
Harry drew her body back against his, spooning them together once more. He
whispered, "It was brilliant."
"But I... I'm leading you on. I don't want to lose my virginity tonight." Her
tone shifted to one of mild surprise. "Though I have to say I've never been
more tempted."
Harry was rock-hard and floating in a charged mist of desire, but a part of him
didn't want her to do anything more. Asking for oral sex from her could be
disastrous, a hand-job would feel tawdry and he was willing to honour her
virginity. One other thought kept him happy with his level of frustrated
desire.
Riddle's not attacking. I can feel that he's shut down the channel. This was
enough to send him running.
Harry smiled and kissed the back of Hermione's neck. "Almost like a sister, I
love you, Hermione."
She coughed out a scoff. "You just gave me the strongest climax of my life. Not
something I would expect from my brother, if I had one."
"I'm getting comfortable being weird about my family."
Hermione pulled his arms tighter around her. "I love you like... I always have.
Only now it's more."
Harry sighed, then kissed the back of her neck again. They lay quietly in that
embrace.
It took an hour before either one could relax enough to sleep, but once they
had it was the best sleep either had enjoyed in a week.
                                    [[[]]]
Meanwhile...
Tonks had left the two friends to explore possible benefits and slumped her way
into the bedroom for young witches. As quietly as she could manage, she found
the empty bed and slipped beneath the covers, suppressing a grumble over the
narrow, stiff mattress and the thin covers.
She was almost convinced she'd made a successful sneaking until Ginny
whispered, "Hermione?"
Mimicking the sound of Hermione's voice, Tonks said, "Yeah? Um, sorry if I woke
you, Ginny."
There was a brief silence, then Ginny said, "Do you remember when I asked you
about kissing another girl?"
Merlin, not again. Am I giving off some sort of Sapphic pheromone?(Gulp) "Um,
yeah?"
"Have you changed your mind?"
"I... uhh... think you should talk to... Tonks about it, yeah. She seems like
the sort that might have an opinion worth sharing. I mean, what would we learn,
both of us kissing, no experience to speak of?"
She heard Ginny sliding out from her covers and felt the young girl prop her
arms at the side of her bed, holding her up as she leaned down to face her in
the darkness.
"But that's the thing. I am asking you... Tonks."
"Ah, bollocks. What gave me away?"
"You said 'yeah'. Never in my experience has Hermione said 'yeah', it's always
'yes'. Like she wouldn't insult the word by not finishing it."
"Good deduction there, red."
"Thanks. So where's Hermione?"
"Err... in another bed."
"Oh. Oh! Well, good on... wait, is it Harry or Ron? Do I dare ask if it's
Sirius? She's not with the twins, is she? Or... Professor Lupin! Oh, I knew
it!"
"Knew what?" Tonks exclaimed, "Remus isn't one to rob cradles, believe me!"
Ginny grinned at her. "More to that than just an idle observation. But if we're
going to gossip, could you not look like Hermione? It's creepy."
"Honestly, I just want to sleep."
"...with Professor Lupin," Ginny added for her.
Hermione-Tonks lurched up, her wand in hand, the tip glowing red with an angry
spell.
Ginny backed away with hands raised while saying, "Nevermind-it's-none-of-my-
business!"
"Damn right," Tonks growled.
Ginny returned to her bed. Once settled, she said, "But if you asked him and he
said no to you, he's a moron."
Tonks raised her wand, but then let it drop again. She whispered, "Damn right."
                                    [[[]]]
Holly woke Harry by poking at his skull with the tip of her tail. Once she had
confirmed his eyes were fully open, she hopped out of the way so Harry could
wake Hermione. The two friends shared a blushing look.
Harry whispered, "Let's not tell Ron about this."
Hermione nodded in agreement, adding, "Ever."
She leaned over to kiss him, then jumped when there was a soft knock on the
door.
Tonks' voice wafted in, "You lot awakey? We should switch back."
Hermione skipped over to the door and opened it; a moment later two Hermiones
were in the room, both saying to Harry, "Cover your eyes."
He did. A few minutes later Hermione was sneaking back into her room wearing
her original bedclothes, and Tonks was wrapped in her own nightshirt, kicking
him out.
Harry shuffled his way back to Sirius' room, finding his godfather sleeping in
dog form as per usual.
Holly had jumped into the pocket of his bathrobe at some point, and jumped out
of it to land onto the bedside table where the Sounding Stone and a scrap of
parchment awaited.
"It's off to school for you, tomorrow."
"You're coming, too?" Harry said whilst rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"Of course, though I wonder if the enchantments over the school will notice me.
You have a bigger problem."
"What's that?"
"Classes. How to conduct yourself as a center of attention when the mood is
against you. And Snape."
A sour churning arose in his gut, quicker to wake him than any cuppa ever
could. "Just hearing his name makes me want to kill him. I hate that man. I
loathe him."
"Which brings us back to the Mind Arts. You can't kill him, yet, so we need to
make it so you can ignore him. At least to the point that his presence is not a
trigger for your rage."
"Hah! If it works, we should teach this to Neville, too. "
"I have a few ideas about how to help Neville, but they'll have to wait. As for
you, while you've been through five kinds of Hell, your mind is still fifteen
years old. The very idea of self-discipline for a boy that age is normally a
joke, yet we shall be striving for that impossible goal. Your mask of
detachment is getting good but you haven't really been provoked while trying to
maintain it. You ready for the accelerated training?"
"What does that involve?"
"Pain."
Harry groaned, falling back onto the bed. He snarked, "I'm beginning to hate
you as well, y'know. You're a messenger of doom."
"Oh, good. I was worried you weren't paying attention."
                                    [[[]]]
 
***** Kick-off *****
Chapter Summary
     On the playing field at Hogwarts
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 
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
                                [[ Kick-off ]]
The world had changed and changed again, but the Hogwarts Express was
reassuringly immutable. Steam clouded the platform, enhancing the predictable
chaos as three hundred parents chivvied an even larger mob of students into
five rail cars that were surprisingly roomy; it was the doorways that weren't
very accommodating. Yet this noise was welcome to Harry's ears. He always
preferred the getting on at King's Cross more than disembarking. It was a clear
demonstration of the difference between anticipation and dread.
Ron and Hermione had gone to meet with the other Prefects as was expected of
them and the twins had headed off on their own agenda, but Ginny resolved to
stick with him in a welcome show of support. They found Neville and settled
into a cabin with him and one other occupant, an odd duck named Luna whom Ginny
already knew as she lived in Devonshire as well, a short hop (measured in
miles) from the Burrow.
Holly had advised Harry that she was planning to spy on people during their
journey. She'd also given him an assignment- she said it was a suggestion, but
Harry wasn't mistaking her casual attitude as anything but her leaving the
choice to him.
'Make some new friends. Play it cool- you're not a nutter or an agent of Fate;
just a guy who knows some things and has done some stuff. Be kind to firsties-
every year the student body changes by 1/7th and the new ones have less bias
about you.
'If you can't decide how to handle something, be a leader- choose the bolder
play. As a center of attention, you will be watched. Fair or not, that's your
position. Don't 'try' to be entertaining; it comes off false. Just act as if
people are watching, because they are, even if you don't see them.'
With that in mind, the mask of command settled over his face and a wave of calm
wrapped his brain like an internalized muffling charm. He felt some giddiness
rise only to be reflexively suppressed before it could become a laugh.
I have control, sure, but I feel like I can't enjoy anything. No wonder Snape
is such a berk. At least Dumbledore keeps up a pleasant face.
Ginny tugged on his arm and said, "Is something wrong, Harry?"
"No. I've got a lot on my mind is all." He made to smile but found that telling
his body to smile was quite different than having it happen naturally. Harry
decided to work without the mask but to keep it ready in case circumstances
changed.
He took a few minutes to talk with the others in his cabin, then got up to find
out who else was sitting in their section of the train. The next cabin over had
an octet of nervous first-years, so he answered a few simple questions that set
their minds at ease. The next cabin had some third-years, mostly Ravenclaws
with nothing to say to him, positive or negative. He continued his casual
canvass until Ron and Hermione caught up with him following their meeting.
Ron groused at him, "If you weren't such a nutter I wouldn't have to do this
job, y'know?"
"Hey, you got a Cleansweep out of it. My nuttiness is bringing you gifts and
popularity. Even your mum likes you more, now."
"Oh, right. Thanks, screwball."
Hermione huffed at them but said nothing. Harry smiled.
They returned to Harry's cabin to find it covered in gooey green sap.
Shaking slime from the book she'd hid behind, Ginny explained, "Neville's plant
is a gusher."
"I just poked it," came the protest from beneath a Neville-shaped glazing of
goo.
Harry blinked a few times, then said, "I'd swear there's a really good
punchline for that, but let's just not poke the plant again, yeah?"
They cleaned up the mess with a flurry of Scouring charms, made some hello's
that only insulted Neville and Luna a small bit and then shared a bounty of
treats from the snack trolley that improved everyone's mood.
As usual when conversation flagged, Quidditch was brought up. Ron refreshed
them about the many fine qualities of his Cleansweep: series eleven, even
nudging that he might try for the Gryffindor team since they were short a
Keeper. Ginny asked, "Are you still going to fly Seeker for us this year,
Harry?"
Before he could answer, the door slid open to allow entry to some unwanted
guests.
"So, Potty- how does it feel to come second place to the Weasel?"
Harry looked up at Draco Malfoy. A prickle of anger crossed his skull, but the
idea of letting Malfoy get to him seemed like it could only be embarrassing. He
shunted his feelings into a pocket set aside for rage noise.
Ron bolted to standing and yelled, "Sod off, you gits!"
This also seemed a bit juvenile but Harry stood as well so as to keep Ron from
further overreaction.
Draco smarmed, "You should speak with respect to your betters, Weasel, or I'll
have points off all of you. Give you some long-delayed punishments."
Hermione corrected him, "Prefects can't take points, Malfoy, or give out
punishments if there isn't rule-breaking."
"No, but we can seize suspicious items- take some of those sweets for me boys;
they look dodgy."
Crabbe and Goyle leaned in and pawed at the collection of treats from the
trolley still sitting on the bench by the door.
Ron protested, "Get yer mitts off those!"
"I dunno," Ginny countered, "now that those hands have touched them I'd call
'em dodgy, too."
Harry still was holding Ron back at the shoulder but gave her an appreciative
nod. He then turned towards Draco with a bland expression.
"Nothing to say, Potter?" the blond boy sneered, "Completely dumbfounded, eh?
You're pathetic."
Harry had a sense of something changing in the room. Looking around, he caught
sight of a familiar ink lizard climbing across the ceiling and he chose to
smile.
"What's so funny?"
He flicked his eyes upwards. "Watch your head, Malfoy."
The blond looked up towards the ceiling in time to get a faceful of ink. He
sputtered, raising his wand to clear it off, but then the ink came alive. It
slipped into his mouth easily as his curled-lip grimace had left a suitable
gap.
Malfoy stumbled back into Crabbe and Goyle, grasping at their arms to keep from
falling over while making a disturbing wheezing noise like a choking duck.
Though he appeared impassive, Harry's mind was racing.
What is Holly doing? Is she really going to kill him? I should get her out- I
know the spell, but... do I really want to save him?
"Wha' is it, Malfoy?" asked Crabbe.
The boy continued to choke, pointing into his mouth with a desperate fear.
Hermione stood up, about to exclaim something and also drawing her wand but
Harry held up his arm to block her, giving her a cold glare.
"Harry, he's choking!"
"But not breaking a rule," Harry replied.
Harry caught sight of Ron in his peripheral vision; his friend was looking
between them and at Malfoy as he writhed on the floor. Ron's expression was
simply aghast- he took no move to assist Malfoy nor to cheer over his
suffering.
Crabbe yelled down at Malfoy, "Tell us what to do! What good is it making all
this noise if you won't tell us what you want?" At the same time Goyle was
trying to reach down Malfoy's throat but Draco's flailing arms kept getting in
the way. Draco even bit on Goyle's fingers as he struggled for breath.
Harry heard students crowding into the corridor from other cabins, no doubt
attracted by the ruckus. Resolved to a plan, he cast a Banishing charm to get
Crabbe and Goyle out of the way, sending them sprawling into the corridor. He
then aimed at Malfoy's neck and incanted, "Anapneo."
A black gob shot out of the blond's mouth to spatter against the far wall, then
slid down to disappear amidst the tight piles of berber that carpeted the
corridor. Malfoy coughed hard enough to turn his pale skin purple then turned
over to heave. As he attempted to recapture his breath, Harry crouched down
next to him.
"Saved your life just now, Malfoy. And I told you to watch your head- Neville's
plant had spouted sap all over the cabin earlier. So... try not to trip and
kill yourself this year, eh? Otherwise your House-mates won't know when to wipe
their mouths, and I don't want to slip on their drool."
Harry Scourgified away the sick, stood up and then closed their door leaving
the three Slytherins in the corridor to collect themselves.
Hermione glared at him as they settled back into their seats.
"What?"
"He's not going to let that drop, Harry."
Before Harry could bother to agree the door slammed open once more. Draco was
poised with wand ready...
... to lose it to Ginny's Disarming charm.
Draco looked all around him to try and understand how he'd been outmaneuvered,
then wailed, "How... how DARE you!? Crabbe, Goyle- get them!"
Hermione stood up and bellowed, "I will have your Prefect's badge and
personally drag you to McGonagall to be expelled if you do not remove yourself
and your 'minions' from this carriage at once, you stupid, wandless sack of
potato peels!"
Disarmed, discounted and distraught, Draco stumbled back into the corridor to
recover his wand and then made a fast exit followed by his cowed flunkies.
Hermione sat back down with a satisfied 'hmph'.
Harry smiled, turned to Neville and Luna and said, "So I'm training my friends
on how to survive the coming war. As you can see we're getting pretty good
individually even if we aren't quite coordinated yet. Interested?"
They both nodded.
Ron cackled and said, "Potato peels, Hermione?"
She blushed. "Admittedly that gives him too much credit for nutritional value,
but it had a rhythm."
A minute later, just as everyone was settled in their seats again, Luna broke
out into a loud laughing fit.
                                     [[]]
That was the last of the truly interesting moments on the Express, though Harry
also had a bit of a time when he caught his first sight of the Thestrals that
pulled the carriages from Hogsmeade station. Ron, Hermione and Ginny said they
couldn't see them, so Luna explained their unique qualities to them all during
the jostling carriage ride up to the castle. Harry felt a pang of pity for the
blonde waif when she mentioned why she could see the Thestrals. Losing her
mother halfway through her childhood seemed a crueler loss than his own.
Upon thinking of it Harry realised two things; he'd always known that the
Dursleys weren't a proper example of the way adults should act, and he'd always
known, absolutely, that he had been loved by his parents. While the thought
warmed him against the cold rain as they left the carriages, he also noted that
it made his scar itch.
The feast was enjoyable not least because Malfoy appeared to have lost his
appetite. Based on the few glances Harry had made while keeping tabs on known
threats, Malfoy spent most of his time glaring at Harry and muttering to his
associates in Slytherin.
The new professor Madam Umbridge made a long and presumptuous speech. Harry
recognised her from his trial and Hermione confirmed that her presence was no
doubt a Ministry incursion on the school's independence. The toad-woman's
ramble irritated him in a way he couldn't pin down, but he knew there ought to
be an answer for it. The Headmaster seemed nearly done with most of his usual
notices and warnings, so Harry stood up and raised his goblet towards the staff
table.
"Er, yes, Mr. Potter?" the Headmaster called out to him.
Snape muttered loud enough for the room to hear him, "Self-centered egotist
can't miss a chance to show off."
Umbridge then made a kind of faux-coughing noise, "Hem, hem."
"One moment, Mr. Potter. Madam Umbridge?"
"I must say Headmaster, that I'm surprised that you would afford any attention
to such a disrespectful--"
"Remember Cedric!" Harry called out, almost like an order.
There was a quiet pause, then the loud scraping of a hundred students all
rising from the benches to lift their glasses. Since this hadn't been planned
the majority of those standing were in Hufflepuff- everyone in Hufflepuff in
fact, including their Head of House. Within a minute all of Gryffindor and
Ravenclaw rose as well with Slytherin giving mixed support or abstention soon
after.
Dumbledore smiled and retrieved his own goblet and lifted it high prompting the
rest of the staff to stand up and join him and Professor Sprout in doing so.
Umbridge was the last to rise but rise she did.
The Headmaster led the room as he solemnly restated, "Remember Cedric," and
everyone with goblets raised took a drink to the young man who had died less
than three months prior.
Professor Dumbledore looked to his right and his left, shrugged and said, "On
that note we shall release you all to find your way home to your Houses. Sleep
well, students. Tomorrow: instruction, with a fair chance of learning
something! You have been forewarned."
                                     [[]]
In the mad press of students escaping the Great Hall Harry lost track of Ron
and Hermione but nearly collided with Cho Chang. Despite the crowd then trying
to part them the pretty Asian girl was able to reach out and pull herself into
him, ending in an embrace.
"Oh, Harry! That was the most--"
He missed the rest of what she said into his shoulder as it was overspoken by a
girl standing just behind Harry calling out, "Move it along! First years,
follow your House prefects."
Harry then also heard a pinched and shrill voice echoing over the crowd, "Mr.
Potter? I wish to speak to you this instant!"
He muttered, "I need an escape route."
The witch behind him said, "Which way're you heading, Harry?"
Harry turned around to find it was the Head Girl who had been bellowing orders
near his ear- a tall, lanky witch with short blonde curls wearing Hufflepuff
robes.
He nodded towards a suit of armour behind which he knew there was a hidden
staircase that led up towards the dorm towers.
The Head Girl grabbed two of her housemates and said, "Badgers- I need a path
northeast."
Umbridge's call for Harry's attention was getting closer but just then a gap
opened straight towards the armour, hedged by several older boys from
Hufflepuff acting oblivious but turning students away from Harry's vector.
Harry led Cho along their escape route, nodding back towards the Head Girl just
as they slipped back into the hidden stairway.
Both stayed silent as they ascended the twisting staircase, familiar as they
were how even whispers could echo in stone passages. They reached a wooden door
a few floors up and exited into a short passage with a second door at the end,
visible when a torch on the wall lit in response to their presence.
Cho marveled, "How did you do that?"
"I think they're automatic."
"I know how the torches work, Harry. I meant getting through the crowd.
"Friends in high places I s'pose. Are you alright?"
As if she'd been awaiting the prompt Cho let loose her tears and gripped Harry
around the chest again. "I'm just so... moved, Harry, that you would honour
Cedric like that."
He'd raised his arms out from his body in reaction but then decided that Cho
wanted to be held. He wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders enjoying
the softness and sweet scent of her long black hair against his cheek.
"He was a good guy, Cho. It's right to miss him."
Cho leaned back from the hug, her eyes watery and red from the salt in her
tears. She gazed into his eyes.
Even now she's pretty. I'm sure she normally wouldn't give me the time of day,
but--
Cho lurched forward and pressed her lips to his, earnestly attempting to bruise
Harry's mouth with the force of her kiss. Harry reeled back a bit but not
enough to break contact. He tried to retreat a bit to give their mouths the
room to explore and caress but the girl insisted on applying all possible force
to his face from hers.
Harry broke off their snog with a gasp. "Cho! Wow, uhh--"
"Oh, Harry! I've wanted this for so long."
She tried to re-engage. Harry was hoping to let some blood back into the soft
tissues in front of his teeth before they were crushed again. No dice- Cho
found an angle and then sucked his breath away while achieving an airtight
seal. Harry could swear this was a moment of deja-vu, one that may have
inspired his fascination with the girl in the first place.
Aside from that the way Cho was kissing him was making him really annoyed.
He slid both hands up around her face and gripped her jaw. Forcing her back an
inch he heard her gasp in worry. A few gentle shushes and she wasn't trying to
force her head through his grip anymore.
Harry then leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, teaching her by
example how to enjoy the gentle touch, the sliding softness and the simple
grace of a decent kiss.
When he leaned back he saw that Cho was stunned. Her eyes were wide open.
"What?"
"You really are much better at this than he was."
Feeling a swell of ego he said, "I can show you so much more." He suppressed a
wince.
God, that was corny.
They kissed again, Cho taking Harry's lead on speed, pressure, angle and level
of tongue involvement. He also had been moving close to her prompting her to
edge backward until she encountered a ledge cut into the wall to serve an arrow
slit, long since blocked off. Harry boosted her to rest her arse on the angled
edge and then moved closer still. At first Cho held her thighs together which
prevented Harry from leaning close; she then parted her legs to best fit
Harry's stance and re-engage their kissing.
Glad I'm not a prefect after all. We may be here a while!
Harry could feel Cho's thighs against his hips. She was lifting them a bit at a
time, sliding the black tights from beneath her robes to brace against his hip
bone. He leaned tight to her. She canted her pelvis and Harry felt a heat
pressed against him even through the zip of his denims. Cho caught her breath
and they broke the kiss for a moment, sharing a look of lust.
Harry glanced down to see that Cho's tights only came up to mid-thigh; the
warmth he was feeling was the golden skin exposed from the cuff of her
stockings up to her satin knickers. Her heels dug against his robe-covered arse
and drew him hard against her once more, ending the glance. Kissing resumed.
He felt like he was tobogganing down a lava flow- the heat, the sense of rush
and danger, the idea that a bad choice could be disastrous.
If only I knew how far she wants to go... I WANT to know.
In the back of his mind Harry caught the sound of Cho's desperate breaths
echoing. He opened his eyes to stare into hers and when her eyelids parted he
could hear that same echo, though much clearer. He grabbed onto it as if it
were a climbing rope and dragged his consciousness along its path.
'... I'm so warm... [soft, wet lips and shallow breaths]... there's such a buzz
in my chi-ball... Harry's so good at this... as in experienced- he's known a
witch? Bet it was Granger, no Weasley... he's mine, now... ugh, the cloth is
pinching... lips are getting raw- Oh! His tongue, just in time... he knows me,
knows my needs... he wants me and finally I know love-- no I don't, he's just a
fifth year, just a boy... UGH! [Pleasure, pain, dampness, shame]... oh, if he
nudges his trousers there a few more times, I'll be cumming... no silencing
charm... do I care? No! Yes! I'm no slag... I'd be his slag... No- what am I
doing?... Mari would hate this... more for me... but I've never gone so far...
how far will we go?... If he starts on my clothes I'll stop him/moan like a
slut/yell stupidly... what if it’s cold?... might be a relief... should let him
know... but not yet...tonguing is soooo good... [Pleasure] ah! He hit that spot
again... please oh please, rub closer... maybe if I encourage him...'
Cho's smoky moan into his open mouth shocked Harry out of her thought-stream.
He leaned back, breathing heavily just as she was. Her eyes bounced across his
face searching for meaning in their interruption.
Harry locked his gaze with hers and said, "How far do you want to go with
this?"
'...how could he ASK THAT... oh, Maeve, what do I say... gotta be cool... I
want your babies... No- that's not cool...'
She let out a kind of pained snort and said, "Wh-what d'you mean? How... how
far do you... ? (gulp) Listen, Harry, I've never gone much beyond kissing. Have
you?"
'... he's probably done all of Gryffindor, it's not like they study... no, he's
new, too/he'll say he's new but he's lying to get you hooked... like it would
take much... my cunny is so ready... quivering like a firstie under the Hat...
ugh, what an image, just rub me, please!... I want him, maybe I can keep him
out of danger... Granger-danger, Weasley wildness... step away from those
animals in your House... you've been trapped so long, I'll save you, redeem
you... '
Harry hadn't replied and Cho's thoughts were accelerating to a point where he
couldn't follow half of anything coherent.
With an undertone of panic she said, "I'm guessing you've gone further. But we
could have something special, couldn't we? I... I assumed you wanted me to be
your girlfriend. Um, do you?"
Harry took a moment to step away from the noise and panic in Cho's head. Once
it was quieter he took a breath and thought it through:
A girlfriend? Maybe, but it's not like I have a life to build with someone. The
clock is ticking. That fucking, fucking clock. And she's leaving this up to me?
Why does this scream 'desperation'? And what will Hols say?
"This bloody life," he said with a groan, "If you'd asked me last year I'd have
been the happiest guy alive. But now I have... a mission. I can't promise you
the attention that you'd deserve. It also might make things difficult for you.
After all, I'm a nutter, aren't I?"
"You... (gulp) you're not saying that because I'm... a virgin, are you?"
"What? No."
"'Cause I'd give it up. I'd give you my--"
"Cho, no. Save it for the better guy who can be a boyfriend to you. I should
go. Take care. And I... I really was tempted. It just wouldn't be fair to you."
He slipped out into the corridor to check that the coast was clear. When he
turned back to give her a nod Cho was glaring at him.
She hissed, "You will say NOTHING of this, Potter! To anyone!"
"Um... okay."
Cho sniffled as he passed him but wouldn't look at him.
Girls are mental, but I'm starting to get why.
                                     [[]]
"Oh, really?"the Sounding Stone recited.
Harry was in bed with the curtains closed and Imperturbed allowing them to have
a proper conversation rather than trade lines on a scrap of paper.
"I mean I think I'm getting it," he said, "Cho was so torn between what she
wanted and how it would look, and wary of any other girls she'd seen me with.
There was also this growing fear, or shame- I think it had to do with Cedric."
"Sure- she's still grieving and there's no common rule about how long after
your boyfriend dies before you can date again without looking like a slag.
Other girls are pretty much looking for a reason to accuse a popular girl of
weakness."
"You lot are vicious!"
"The other reason for girls to visit the loo in groups- we can gossip together,
but also know that no one is left at the table talking trash about us. Never
mind that though- I'm more interested in how you got into her mind so easily."
"I dunno. I just... wanted to get in. Once I'd found the route or path or
something it got harder to stay out. We were really close at the time. Once she
was a few steps away I couldn't sense the pathway or hear any stray thoughts
anymore."
"Ironically your nearsightedness may be reducing the effective range of your
passive Legilimency."
"Why is that ironic?"
"You're able to focus on things close at hand but can't see the big picture-
kinda how you are in life, too."
"Sod off, that!"
"Love you too, pookie. Brilliant move at the Feast, by the by."
Harry felt warmth spread from his temples down to his neck. "Thanks, Hols."
"It's probably why Erin gave you a hand."
"Who?"
"Erin Moore- Head girl, from Hufflepuff."
"What- d'you think she's into me too?"
"Not in a million years. The only person at Hogwarts more gay than her is the
Headmaster."
"No! No way!" Harry stated emphatically. After a minute of nodding to himself
he murmured, "Dumbledore? Really?"
"Flowing robes in complementary pastels with fluttering butterflies; night
robes with shooting stars, including a matching hat and kerchief; never leaves
his office in less than a three-inch heel with shiny silver buckles on his
boots that match his belt. Does this scream 'rugby hooligan' to you? The really
funny part is that modern muggles don't ham it up the way the ones who grew up
being shunned for it do. Nowadays gay pride is just an annual parade, not a
lifelong fashion statement."
"The less I think about this the happier I'll be," Harry decided. "Did you find
out anything interesting while spying?"
"I did but not in terms of secrets. I kept an eye on Snape during the Feast. He
isn't looking at you at all, quite deliberately. I think he's waiting to see
how you act towards him. Ginny said that the Headmaster blocked the memory of
his participation in how I got 'executed'. I'm fairly certain he's found the
memory and uncovered at least some of what went on. Not sure what he's
thinking, but if you keep your mind on your work and your anger under wraps he
might leave you alone."
"Really? What about that bit during the Feast?"
"Oh, Harry- everyone on staff is 'on stage' during the Welcome Feast. Their
behavior is under high scrutiny by the new and returning students so they have
to fulfill their roles. If Snape let you act out without criticising you it
would raise doubts about his true attitudes in half the school including all
the children of Death Eaters and our visiting Ministry spy as well."
"Find out anything else?"
"Most kids with an opinion think you're nuts. The only real argument against it
is that the Ministry didn't arrest you for killing Cedric whilst in the maze,
so something else must have happened."
                                     [[]]
The first day of classes included Potions and Defense. Holly was right- Snape
had shifted his behavior towards Harry. Rather than taunt him, demean his work
and destroy anything good he'd made, the greasy git ignored him entirely, even
if his hand was raised. Poor Neville was getting the overflow of criticism that
Harry would have normally borne, but Harry was enjoying the chance to brew
without that pressure. It occurred to him after class that Snape might be doing
more than simply staring or talking at them to screw up their work.
By contrast nearly everything Holly had written about Dolores Jane Umbridge
proved to be wrong. She wasn't 'squat, unattractive and chintzy'; she was a
humanoid toad dressed like a pink piñata, complete with fly-shaped black ribbon
atop her alice-band. She wasn't 'altogether control-minded and otherwise
disagreeable'; she was a bloody nightmare whose every movement, grunt and faux-
cough was an insult to everyone working or studying at Hogwarts. Holly was
right about one thing; provoking Umbridge into treating him like a threat
wasn't difficult. One too many outbursts from Harry over her farce of a DADA
textbook and related 'teaching' and Harry had detention for the week.
When he returned to bed after the first session he raged at Holly behind the
Imperturbed curtains.
"You KNEW she was going to make me use that fucking quill!"
"Welcome to Occlumency, Stage Two- disassociating from pain," the Stone
recited.
"This is because of Cho! You're using Umbridge to punish me for almost shagging
her."
Holly had to move the Stone back onto her parchment as Harry's angry
gesticulations had disrupted their positioning. With a nudge of her nose the
runes flashed and the recitation continued; "It really isn't. Cho Chang is of
no consequence in my experience. Shag her; don't shag her; just don't let her
distract you from learning magic and building your reputation. As you're a
wizard, getting a rep as a ladies man can only help you so long as you treat
the witches with respect and don't brag about it."
"I don't want to be a ladies man! You're trying to turn me into a slut."
"I'm a slut; you'd be a man-whore, but that's not where you're headed. I'm not
trying to do anything but advise you how to survive your battles with Riddle. I
recommend that you get involved with someone who can generate the necessary
moments of intimacy that'll keep Riddle at bay until your defenses are strong
enough not to need them- Hermione and/or Ginny would suit and are trustworthy,
but your choices are your own. On the reputation side you've done all you need
to in order to get the ball rolling- Cho will complain about the encounter
without going into details, leading the grapevine to conclude that she's been
shagged and dropped like a one-night stand. If she doesn't speak ill of you
people may also assume you're an amazing shag and she's just ashamed she
couldn't keep your attention."
"That's not what happened!"
"Why would that matter? We're talking about perception, not truth."
"It should matter. The truth is that I pushed her away because it was happening
too fast. I'm not going to steamroll a girl into sex just 'cause she doesn't
know how to say 'no'. No one should see anything wrong with that. I just have
to explain it somehow."
"They will see everything wrong with it if you try to forestall their
condemnation by defending your actions before they're even criticised. Let it
go, Harry. Concentrate on the things you can control, like who you are willing
to shag."
Harry's frustration with the topic was close to boiling. "Hermione and I agreed
not to sleep together again and Ginny... wants to wait."
"You've got a problem then. Riddle will be back, and just hearing my praises
won't be enough to keep him from snooping. It sounds like Cho was a bit too
troubled and self-involved to bring you that sort of emotional high. You might
get more bang for your bang if you were to have a moment of intimacy with
someone you resp--"
Harry cut her off by shoving the Stone off the bed. He didn't say anything as
he rolled over into his covers; they both knew who he really respected, trusted
and wanted.
Holly absorbed the ink from her parchment and let it curl shut.
                                    [[[]]]
The next night Holly was nowhere to be found. Harry then remembered that he had
other avenues for seeking advice and called Sirius on his magic hand mirror.
Just trying it out gave him a smile- his father had used this same mirror when
he was Harry's age.
"You're looking chipper," Sirius said, "Things going well?"
"No, but I'm really appreciating this gift at the moment."
They shared a grin. Harry spent the next hour giving a summary of all the
trouble being stirred up by the new Spy-Professor. Sirius was appropriately
sympathetic.
"And McGonagall said to keep your head down? Well, she always was good at
giving advice."
"What? Sirius, you don't agree with her, do you?"
"Of course not! Take whatever McGonagall says about behaving and do the
opposite- I did that for seven years, making my time at Hogwarts the best years
of my life."
Harry heard the pain behind the humour. He said, "Y'know, you're not dead yet.
Better years may be had. Or so I've heard it rumoured."
"I heard that rumour, too. I'm working on ways to change my stars. Don't worry
on it. Just keep in touch."
"I will. I have a message from Hols as well."
"Oh?"
"She said, 'Drink less, think more.' Also, you owe her 38 Galleons in back
pay."
"Saucy cunt." After a pause Sirius muttered, "She's not listening, right?"
                                    [[[]]]
'Not to put too fine a point on it, Gingersnap, but what happened to make you
give up on Harry?'
Ginny had thought that History of Magic would be as boring as ever but then
Holly had popped up and started writing on the flyleaf page of her textbook.
She wrote back, 'Too tempting at headquarters. Mum would've ruined it. Also' -
it took her several minutes of feigning attention to the lecture before she
could continue, '...he's better off fooling around with girls that might help
us, like Chang.'
Holly swiped away the writing and scribed, 'Canny thinking on your part. When
did you become so un-romantic?'
'I woke up and saw that Harry is just a guy, but one with a lot to shoulder.
Besides you already stole the flag on his virginity. Since I'm not the first I
want to be the last.'
Vicky Frobisher hissed at her from the desk to her right, whispering, "Who're
you talking to?"
Ginny gave her a 'like-I'd-tell-you' look and resituated her textbook for a bit
more privacy. She then wrote, 'Why'd you come with me today?'
'Harry's got his assignments and challenges- I'm just a distraction for him at
this point. You're available and obviously idle so I'm mentoring you now.
Anything you want my thoughts on? Just write it down and I'll put something
together.'
Ginny sat back and thought for several minutes whilst ignoring Vicky's
escalating attempts to get her attention. She wrote, 'If I wanted to be as
dangerous as you, what should I be doing/studying?'
'I'll get to work on that. Maybe we should start a different journal for your
training... or create a replica of the first that auto-updates so I don't need
to keep visiting both of your dorms any time I have a notion to share.'
'You'd give me the same advice you give to Harry?'
'Different emphasis, but yeah.'
Vicky lost her balance in leaning over to see what Ginny was writing, sprawling
into the aisle between desks.
Professor Binns spoke up, "Miss Flatbush, Miss Westley; what are you doing?"
Ginny said, "She's trying to copy my notes, Professor Binns."
"What?" Vicky protested, "I get better grades than you!"
"And now we know why."
"I didn't--!"
The Professor stated, "Detention tonight, Miss... er... Fulbright."
Vicky hissed, "You'll pay for that, Weasley."
Ginny scoffed. "Why? He won't remember it if you skive off the detention. Just
bugger off."
'What's with your dorm-mate, anyway?'
'Vicky wants to be the center of attention. She'd be the queen of our dorm
except I don't give a rip what she thinks and she's too scared of F&G to taunt
me.'
'Speaking of the twins, I know what your first lesson is- steal the journal.'
'Are you serious? Harry carries it everywhere. He clutches that thing like...
like I did with Riddle's diary.'
'And when he freaks out because it's missing, you can give him back a copy and
point out his error; enemies and rivals will notice when you covet something.'
'But brothers won't- at least in my experience.'
                                    [[[]]]
Once he had gotten it back from Ginny, Harry agreed to leave the journal in his
trunk until needed. This also provided time for Holly to add pages on topics
she'd only lightly covered. Each evening after being tortured by Umbridge's
quill, Harry hid himself behind the curtains of his bed and used the Sounding
Stone to hear Holly's voice echoing his favorite lessons. The effect was nearly
as soothing as the pickled Murtlap essence that soaked the inflammation from
his detention wounds. It was during one such session that Neville happened to
poke his head between the curtains.
"Uh, Harry, everyone is asking where--" but Neville stopped upon hearing a
different voice than expected- Holly's voice, emanating from the stone sitting
on the open journal next to him.
"-- that in fact most people treat their wand as if it were a multi-tool or
perhaps a musical instrument. This isn't far off, but by--"
Harry turned from where he was lounging to glare at the intruder.
"Oh! Sorry, I didn't know there was a girl with you," Neville said, "...wait,
there isn't a girl. What are you listening to? It's not the Wizarding Wireless
is it? Why would you want to hide that?"
"Shush, wouldya?" Harry complained.
"-- should be treated more as a trained companion like a hunting dog or horse.
Each wand is a unique personality, though like certain breeds of hound or steed
their temperaments often follow from their genesis- the type of wood and core
material used in their... well... conception."
Harry ended the recitation with a tap of his wand to the stone. "I love how she
says that. So damned sexy."
"Who is that? Is that a letter?"
Harry looked at Neville, trying to judge the level of trust that the answer
required. He said, "It's a study guide given to me by my tutor, Holly."
"The voice didn't sound very Irish."
"She's like McGonagall- the accent only comes out when her dander is up."
"You're right though," Neville mused, "she has a very pleasant voice."
"Pleasant?" Harry scoffed. "Are you telling me that the moment you heard her
that you didn't get hard as a rock?"
"Harry!" Neville protested as if scandalised. "Blokes don't... talk about each
others'... like that!" His shuffling of robes betrayed the truth of the matter.
He added, "Well, Seamus does, but--"
Seamus himself walked into the room that moment, in a huff. "Who's sayin' what
about me?"
Harry sat up on his bed. His Irish dormmate's attitude hadn't improved since
the first night, owing to their argument derived from Seamus' mother nearly
stopping him from returning to Hogwarts due to reports of Harry acting like a
nutter.
Neville answered, "I was just saying that you... uhh..."
"'I... uhh...' what? What about me?" Seamus challenged, glaring at both of
them.
Harry said, "You tend to talk about hard-ons and hot witches more than anyone
else he's known. Can't say I disagree."
"Oh yeah? Why're you talking about that?"
Neville explained, "Well, Harry has this... stone."
Harry tapped his wand on the Stone.
"So, as your wand is much more than a tool, you should spend time getting to
know it... intimately. You and your wand are learning magic together. It can
become a partnership of give and get, where your words of power flow seamlessly
through its center to erupt... as a perfect transfiguration or an enduring
charm. A wand speaks for you, but it can only feel and translate your intent if
you establish a deep and abiding connection with it."
Seamus slumped against Harry's bedpost and moaned, "Holy God, I think I'm in
love. It's like she's making sweet, sweet love to me earbones. Who is that,
Potter?"
Neville offered, "That's his tutor, Holly Evans."
"The Irish gell that gave the two fingers to the Wizzingmoot? How do you rate
such a lovely?"
"She's... related," Harry said, "on my mother's side."
"Introduce me to her and all is forgiven."
Harry winced. "Wish I could but she's kinda in hiding over assaulting a
Ministry official. Tell you what, though. I could let you listen to her lessons
with me. Might be interesting."
"I'm in!" Neville gushed, "Count me in!"
"Well if you're playin' it for Longbottom, I might as well give her a listen."
Dean and Ron joined them soon after, and for the next several nights they all
went to sleep listening to Holly's insights into magic, her smoky voice feeding
their pleasant if unrelated and quite personal dreams.
                                    [[[]]]
Frustrated as he was with interrupted sleep, the added pressure of OWL-year
studies and the new professor openly antagonising him, Harry easily earned a
second week of detentions with Umbridge along with the ire of Angelina Johnson,
Gryffindor's new Quidditch captain.
He had missed the try-outs where Ron got the Keeper position and nearly missed
their first practice as well. In some ways he wished he had missed it- mostly
it was a fiasco about Ron losing his nerve. Harry's friend had already been
doubting his choice to sign up, but when the Slytherins decided that Gryffindor
Quidditch practice was better than Vaudeville, Ron seemed trapped into proving
them correct. The pinnacle of slapstick was Ron's pass to Katie Bell at
sufficient force to break her nose.
Harry was frustrated with Ron's bumbling as well, and offered to treat Katie at
the pitch rather than send her off to Madam Pomfrey... or try one of the dodgy
sweets the twins offered her.
Katie sat down with him on a bench at ground level. While Harry took a look at
the damage they chatted, at first only to distract from the howling Slytherins
in the stands above them. He applied a charm to stop the blood running down her
face then asked her, "Ron was better during the try-outs, right?"
Katie tried to nod but Harry held her head tight at the temples to aid in his
aim. She murmured, "It was more a selection based on character. The other ones
weren't worse so much as harder to tolerate. Don't tell anyone I said it but
sometimes I think our House gets all the glory-hogs."
He let her blink a few more times then warned her to keep absolutely still. A
carefully aimed wand, the incanted, "Episkey," and Katie yelped. Harry let her
go.
After a pause she moved and twitched her nose, making a hum of impressed
satisfaction. "You're good at that. A lotta practice?"
"My tutor encourages learning by doing. The Weasleys and I ended up with a
couple dislocations apiece while practising hexes at the end of summer. Yours
is the first nose I've fixed but it worked."
"And the clotting spell?"
"Actually a mild desiccation hex. Blood makes a clot by sticking together as it
dries out."
"You know a lot about the body, do you?"
"Not the internal stuff yet. Just the surface." Noting Katie's attentive
expression, Harry shifted to a more teasing tone. "Y'know... skin, face, lips,
how we breathe, how your body will react to pressure."
Katie's eyes flared. She nudged him and said, "Y'know, if you wanted a
Quidditch girl you didn't hafta go Seeking in other Houses."
"I didn't! Cho was--"
Angelina yelled, "Oi! Get back in the air if she's fixed, Potter!"
They jumped up from the bench and grabbed their brooms. Harry stopped her
before she mounted and cast one more spell towards her face and neck. "Tergeo."
"What was that for?"
"Cleaned off the blood. If you're gonna stain your uniform with it we should
make sure it's from them." Harry gestured towards their audience in robes
trimmed with green and silver.
Katie made a kittenish roaring sound and smiled.
                                    [[[]]]
"Umbridge's latest decree disbanded all clubs and teams- even the House
Quidditch teams."
Sirius' sarcasm was easy to pick up from over the mirror. "Maybe you shouldn't
have put up notices for your new Defense club everywhere."
"It was a legitimate club," Harry protested, "There's Charms club, at least two
potions study groups, Arithmancy- though I've heard it ends up as a politics
debate half the time."
"What does Arithmancy have to do with--?"
"Asking the wrong guy, Sirius. I don't even take the class. Anyway, we wanted
Umbridge to be forced to act on it as a policy. Everyone knows that she doesn't
teach her subject and everyone saw or heard that we were trying to make up for
it. It shows that she did this to attack me and didn't mind hurting everyone
else in the process. I look like the sane one."
"Huh. Does everyone know that or are you just hoping they see it your way?"
"Well... the message may have gotten lost whilst everyone was begging her to
let them reform their groups."
"And did you ask Dear Dolores to allow the DADA club?"
"Hermione did. She came back nearly in tears. I've never seen her hair so
frizzy, either."
"Girl needs a good shag to untwist her knickers."
"Don't we all?"
Sirius barked a laugh in agreement.
                                    [[[]]]
It was Friday again. Harry was missing another practice, this time for being
caught saying 'Slinkhard knows nothing about defence. He's an expert at writing
for the Ministry. Probably has his NEWTS in Brown-nosing and Bribery.' It was a
one-night detention but chosen to screw with his world as much as possible.
Angelina had just secured permission to reform the Gryffindor team but Harry
wouldn't be there to join them.
Harry looked at the blank page of parchment and sighed. If he concentrated on
maintaining a mask he could almost ignore the pain, but it took a lot of
effort. If he just let himself get angry the scratching hurt less at the start
but got worse as the aggression wore down. He really didn't have the energy for
either. He took off his glasses, rested his chin on the desk and picked up the
quill.
Scratch. Scrape. The wound opened on the 'm' in 'must' almost immediately. He
could see at this close range just how the layers of skin were carved away with
each stroke of the quill on parchment.
Scritch. Twinge. The wince interrupted his tracking of the rounding in the 'e'
of 'tell'. He went over it several times more until the shape suited him.
Carve. Trim. A signal along his forearm told him the curves in the 's' were too
shallow- they didn't hurt enough. He wrote over the letter again. He had to
wipe away some blood that was obscuring the ridge on one of the 'l's- the one
that was too short compared to the other 'l's.
"Mr. Potter!"
He looked up. Night had fallen while he'd been concentrating on his
craftsmanship.
Toad-face looks sickly and afraid. Isn't this what she wanted?
He sat up and then looked down at the desk. Blood had stained most of the
parchment and a third of the desk surface. He regarded the gougings on his
hand- they appeared to be deep enough to expose tendons. He'd wanted them to
resemble etchings on a gravestone. Instead, the piece of skin at the center of
the 'o' reminded him of a pencil eraser. Oh well.
He turned back to the Professor. "Are we done then?"
"Y-yes, Mr. Potter. It is nearly curfew and the... message seems to have sunk
in."
He regarded her queerly. Am I supposed to laugh at that?
"Off with you. Now."
Harry left the office, holding his freshly-carved hand upright to reduce
swelling and keep the blood flow down. Of course it hurt- just as much as it
was supposed to, making the pain unremarkable.
Harry trudged his way back out of her office and set course towards Gryffindor,
his mind occupied in planning how to treat his wounds. Several stairs and halls
later he was interrupted by a strange, nasally wheeze.
"Scarhead, out after curfew? Must be my birthday or something. And just look at
that wand-hand. I bet you couldn't cast so much as a sneezing jinx right now."
Harry stared at Malfoy as he approached from an alcove.
Must've been waiting for me. Foolish.
After an uncomfortable pause Malfoy asked, "What is it with you this year,
Potter? Every time I catch you you're staring at me. Not a buggerer, are you?
Is that it? You fancy me?"
'Actually I was considering how to dispose of your corpse.' Probably shouldn't
say that. He might get a swelled head, thinking I care that much about his
blathering. Harry said, "Really, alot, no."
Katie Bell came around a corner and called to him, "Harry! Just come from
practice and-- oh my God, what happened to your hand?!"
"Detention keepsake."
"Sod off, Bell," Malfoy said, "Potter here is in violation of the rules."
"He is not." Katie replied as she approached and took a hold of Harry's wounded
hand.
The clock tower began tolling the nine o'clock curfew.
"Now he is," Malfoy declared with a smile.
"I'm a prefect and escorting him to hospital besides, so you can sod off about
your rules being broken." Malfoy seemed unmoved, so Katie pointed down the
hallway and reiterated, "Sod off!"
They watched Malfoy stroll off down the corridor. Once he was out of sight
Harry said, "It's really not worth a trip to hospital. If I go Madam Pomfrey
will strap me to a bed for three days. Malfoy would love to gloat over that."
"You need to get it treated."
"I'll teach you the spells if you can do the wandwork- it's a bit clumsy,
trying to cast onto your own hand."
"Yeah, alright."
They found an empty classroom a few hallways closer to Gryffindor, just in case
Malfoy tried to harass them further. Katie was very attentive to Harry's
instructions and soon he had a numbing charm and a conjured clean bandage bound
in place. He flexed his fingers a few times to test for feeling. He looked up
at Katie's eyes. When she noticed and looked back he said, "Very well done.
Thanks."
'First catch their attention, then give earnest praise- they'll take it as
heartfelt.' Simple yet effective- Katie has a nice blush and smile now.
"Th-thanks, Harry."
"You were looking for me."
"I was, but just to tell you Angie isn't replacing you yet."
"Good." She's still staring. What's on your mind, Katie?
He felt more than heard the echo of thought but couldn't make it out.
Reflexively he touched her arm and things cleared up.
'... Is he really? ... haven't noticed me before ... neither did I ... was hard
to see him different than a firstie, but now ... he's leaning closer ... did I
say something? ... what did I say?'
"Harry? What's up?"
'... the way he's looking is hungry ... kinky? ... more like scary ... this
isn't like Harry!'
She pulled back in his grip and said, "Uh... m-maybe we should go?"
Harry grasped her arm tighter. Her thoughts dissolved into fear.
"You're hurting me. Harry, stop!"
He shook himself hard, finally breaking himself out of his detachment. When he
looked up at Katie she was wary, cradling her own arm that she'd tore from his
grip.
"Oh... Katie, I'm so sor--," but he cut off the apology. Actually I think in
this case, it's owed.
"What just happened?" she asked.
Harry paused only a second to ask himself how much trust Katie was due along
with the apology. He explained, "It's this thing with Umbridge. She makes me
carve into my hand and I have to... shut my feelings away just to bear through
it. God. I'm so sorry. Really."
He could feel the ease coming from her, and the change as her panic quieted
down and shifted into concern.
"You look like hell, Harry."
"Not sleeping well; can't catch up when I'm cutting into my hand 3 hours a
night. So, yeah. Sorry." He stood up. "I should go."
Katie stood up as well, but wrapped him in a hug. He sank into it, his arms
loosely returning the embrace. She held him for a minute, then giggled. "Not
that I'm wanting to see that scary face of yours again but what were you
thinking just then?"
"How to get your clothes off without freaking you out. You're damned sexy,
Katie."
She leaned back and looked at him with surprise.
"I've wanted to say so for a while," he admitted.
"Wha- yeah? Why didn't you say so?"
"'Cause I was a stupid git,"
She teased, "That hasn't changed."
"Maybe not but now I'm a stupid git that can say stuff like that." Harry smiled
and reiterated, "I think you're sexy."
She blushed and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm all a mess. Muddy and sweaty
from practice."
"I must be smitten or something then, 'cause I still want a taste."
"Harry, you're not going to fall in love with your nurse, are you?"
Harry's smile faded. He looked down to the floor. "No, this isn't... "
Katie cupped his face and turned it towards her. "Not love, just a taste. I get
it. Happened to me in OWL year, too. I bet half the school loses their
virginity then." She then leaned in and kissed him. For a while.
Harry felt honest affection for Katie. They'd joined the Quidditch team
together and had supported each other with a kind word when neither was quite
sure if the whole thing was just a prank by the twins somehow. They'd gone
their own ways for classwork, of course, and Harry was often distracted by some
adventure or catastrophe in progress, but he felt very relaxed and comfortable
with Katie.
She must have felt similarly comfortable, as she made no protest when he pulled
off her cloak and jersey, nor when he propped her onto a spare desk along the
wall so he could peel her boots and trousers off her legs. Katie became a bit
anxious when Harry's kissing along a bare leg came ever higher on her tender
inner thigh. He had promised to taste her, but she wasn't chuffed to have him
diving between her legs when she felt so unwashed.
"Are you sure?"
Her shaking head confused the issue.
"You're not sure?"
She clarified, "I reeeeally don't need more foreplay!"
He rose to standing, releasing his cock from his clothing to her delight. She
reached down to move aside her knickers and guide him into her soaked privates.
They both canted their hips to finish the insertion with a loud grunt.
Neither of them moved for a moment. He locked eyes with Katie and heard the
same thought that had given him pause- 'that feels fantastic... but probably
should do the protection charms and such.'
They drew their wands, giggled at their complimentary mindsets, and then cast a
few spells apiece to aid in their comfort and risk-free enjoyment. The moving
and shifting made this a bit more difficult for Katie, as she was being prodded
and provoked by his erection with every change in position. Tossing her wand
over her shoulder, Katie gripped Harry's shoulders at the neck and dragged him
into a torrid snog that ended only when Harry began sliding his cock along the
slick, sensitized path into her core.
They kept a slow pace, enjoying the process of coming together rather than
rushing towards a conclusion. Katie appreciated this and kissed Harry every few
minutes to tell him so. Even with this control, Harry felt Katie's rising
enjoyment. He kept track of her wants with a bare skim of her thoughts when
they snogged, and knew when 'deliberate' should change to 'insistent'.
She orgasmed, the climax evident in how her muscles clenched up, drawing her
into a ball wrapped around his pelvis. When it passed she quavered in his arms
from overstimulation. He took the time to kiss along her collarbone and then
down to nuzzle her breasts. Katie breathed a sigh, moaned and then tilted his
head up to snog him, prompting their shagging to resume an ascending rhythm.
She never said anything or cried out but her heavy breaths would change
pattern- short and clipped when they were ramping up, deep and deliberate as
her climax came over her, shifting to almost a plaintive sound when his
pistoning was restimulating her desire. After her fourth orgasm Harry lost all
sense of the moment. He found himself drifting in a cloudy pool of pleasure and
let the waves of joy wash over him.
Katie smacked him awake. "Harry! You alright?"
"What happened?"
"You climaxed and fell backwards."
"Oh. Brilliant. Did I lose you?"
"Eh, no- I was climaxing too, so I just... held tight and kept riding. Sorry."
At this point he noticed that they were sitting on the floor, Katie still
impaled on his fading erection but propped above him, her breasts swaying with
her movements.
"I'm not." He smiled which made her smile and lean down to kiss him. He
breathed in her joy and relief and arousal... he cupped a breast with one hand
and gripped her arse with the other, encouraging her to grind into him again.
"Again?" she gasped.
"Well yeah- I missed the end just now. I want to feel you all the way through."
They removed the rest of their clothing (in Katie's case just a long sock and
her stretched loose knickers), and then settled into another slow and glorious
fuck on the floor, cushioned by their robes and a few charms to make the stone
floor soft as pillows. She rode him through cycles of pleasure, adjusting their
positions subtly with each iteration, searching for their best mutual joy.
Harry finally climaxed again when he'd shifted to sitting up so he could lick
and nuzzle her breasts as they ground pelvises. Katie climaxed soon after, then
slumped to rest her forehead on his shoulder while she got her breathing to
settle. They heard the bell tolling for eleven o'clock.
"D'you... (gulp) do you always do a girl until she can't walk?"
He laughed. "There's not much 'always' to compare, but shouldn't I? It seems a
worthy goal."
"I thought you... this can't possibly be your first time."
"No, but aside from a snog or two I've only been with Holly."
"Your tutor? That doesn't sound cricket."
"Depends on how you look at it. She wasn't hired to teach me magic- she's
teaching me to be a... a public figure, I suppose."
"And naturally that means teaching you how to shag? How bizarre."
"But effective, yeah?"
Katie laughed. "Can't deny that. I'd vote for you."
They disentangled and then dressed each other. Katie took another look at his
bandage- the blood had seeped through a little, but not much considering how
Harry'd been using the hand to touch her or brace his movements.
They approached Gryffindor tower to find Angelina was waiting for them. As soon
as she saw them Angelina started yelling.
"Really?! Our practice goes to shite, but at least you two will be happy.
Teammates can't date! You'll be distracted! Either break it off or I drop one
of you- possibly both!"
Harry snorted. "And your relationship with Fred- how's that going?"
"I'm captain- it's different. Think you're so special, Potter? I don't! You're
good but you're not irreplaceable."
Katie mumbled, "You said the opposite just last night at supper."
"That wasn't-- I'm -- damnit I'm trying to captain a team, here. I don't need
Harry's nuttiness ruining it."
Harry fair to exploded at that point. "My nuttiness?! This is the last bit of
normal I have left, Angie! Everything else is a tower of rocks about to
collapse on my head, but up on the pitch it's just balls, brooms and hoops.
Nothing else matters during a match, and I cherish that. Nothing that happens
before or after a practice or a game will get in the way of my dedication to
playing. Don't you go helping Umbridge to take this away from me!"
His yell echoed in the hall, as they'd all been shocked into silence.
"Probation, for both of you," Angelina muttered, "and that's just because I
don't wanna give Umbitch any more reason to ruin our squad."
They watched her stalk off towards the tower entrance.
"Thought you said you were exhausted, but you shagged me silly, blew up at
Angelina--"
"I am, but now at least I know I'll sleep through the night."
"And probably a large part of Saturday." Katie smiled, stepped close and then
rested her arms on his shoulders as she kissed him. "So. Balls, brooms and
hoops?"
"Heh. Yeah."
"Sorta like this thing we've got going."
He sputtered out a laugh and nodded. "Yeah. How're your hoops Katie?"
"A bit wore out, Harry. But give me time to freshen up and we'll play another
match. Can we... um... ?"
"What?"
"Can we keep it quiet? No bragging, no gossiping- just let it be our thing?"
"I'd really be happy with that but you'll have to convince Angelina."
"Oh, right. So much for that idea."
"You think she'd betray you like that- talk behind your back?"
"Harry, there's a saying amongst the witches of Hogwarts- a secret exists
between two people. Once a third person knows it'll become gossip about as fast
as you don't want it to."
"Huh. So the less we care, the slower it'll get out?"
"I suppose. Why?"
"I really like you. I really liked this. I don't give a shite who knows that-
there's nothing embarrassing about it."
"But we're not dating."
"And yet we're happier than most couples I've seen around here. More power to
us, eh?"
"More power to us."
They returned to Gryffindor, exchanging a kiss outside the door (and out of
view of the portrait of the Fat Lady) but entering the common room as friends.
Harry woke up Sunday morning to find a copy of the Daily Prophet at the foot of
his bed. The headline said 'Potter: Depraved?' with several related subarticles
including a five-page dossier on Katie Bell.
                                    [[[]]]
 
Chapter End Notes
     Author's Note: this wouldn't have taken half as long if I'd stuck to
     my original plan of this being a sex romp- Harry would have bagged
     Cho, Katie and probably snuck in another non-penetrative sex thing
     with Hermione with no consequences at all. Instead I'm trying for
     realism and character consistency. Whatever was I thinking?
     Revised with more naked Katie... because there isn't enough naked
     Katie. There will never be enough naked Katie.
***** Level Up *****
Chapter Summary
     Training... experience...
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: Level Up]]
"Sirius! Sirius!"
The magic mirror dimmed out Harry's reflection, revealing a bleary-eyed Sirius
Black.
"Did I wake you? Too bad- I need your advice. Take a look at the Prophet."
Sirius wandered away from Harry's sight for a few minutes then returned,
slumping down at what looked to Harry to be the kitchen in Grimmauld Place.
Sirius said, "Alright, alright. What's your-- BAH HAHAHAHAHA!"
"Y'know, I was hoping for some sympathy and guidance from my godfather."
Over the mirror, Sirius' face had vanished in favour of a view of the grimy
kitchen rafters, but Harry could hear him saying, "Moony! Moony, you've got to
see this!"
Remus' voice echoed, "Well, it probably isn't as ba-ha-ha HAAAAh! Oh, Tonks!
Take a look at our fearless leader's progress!"
It was time for Tonks' honking snort to add to the unwelcome reactions. She
said, "Oh, well-picked, Harry. She's a cutie. Why's she look blonde in half the
pictures? It doesn't really work with her colouring."
Remus said, "Like you've cause to be critical of others' hair colour choices?"
"I'm being observant," Tonks replied, "Aurors do that. Y'know what else we do?
Hunt down Dark Creatures--"
"Oh for- I haven't had breakfast yet," Sirius protested, "Can't you hold off
flirting until my stomach's settled?"
Harry sighed. "Never mind." He flipped the mirror so it landed face down on his
blanket, ending the connection.
With that preparation, Harry easily weathered the rise of laughter and cat-
calls when he arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast. He maintained a policy
of making no comment whilst seeming half-amused by the circus of it. The crowd
quieted down by order of a highly-irritated Professor McGonagall. Then Katie
appeared at the doorway.
Harry jumped up from the Gryffindor table and strode up to her, stopping an
arms-length away. He stood with his hands down at his sides as he just wasn't
sure where they... stood.
He muttered, "Seen the Prophet?"
Katie's blush intensified as she mumbled, "Of course. Alicia brought me up a
copy, bless her."
"I could kiss you," he offered.
"Or I could slap you," she countered.
Neither spoke for a moment. Most of the room seemed to be waiting as well.
Harry gave her a sly look. "Call it a prank. High-five?"
A grin grew on Katie's face.
They slapped hands high, low and then bumped hips before turning to walk back
to the Gryffindor table. They sat in their usual places with friends and
started their breakfast, ignoring the questions, cheers and further complaints
from Professor McGonagall demanding that everyone exhibit proper composure at
meals, even on the weekend.
With that, Harry and Katie had effectively declared that all taunting would be
heard and appreciated without complaint. While many harsh and rude things were
said to both of them, the force of ill intent had been disarmed by the power of
'we meant to do that'. It didn't stop the harassment, but Harry felt it was
tapering off faster than he'd experienced in the past.
                                     [[]]
That evening at dinner Harry saw Hermione bypass her usual seat across from his
and instead sit down a few places further in, next to Katie. She then stared at
her until Katie stopped eating. They were just close enough that Harry could
hear Katie say, "Granger? What's the what?"
Hermione said, "May I offer you a piece of advice?"
"You're not about to tell me to keep my paws off your wizard, are you?" She
glanced Harry's way and they shared a brief smile.
"Gracious, no! My advice is to open your post very carefully."
Katie waved a dismissive hand. "Ah- I only ever get stuff from my mum and
sister."
Even from a few yards off and facing away from him, Harry could tell that
Hermione was smiling. She said in her best swotty voice, "That was yesterday."
Owls began to enter the hall through the ceiling- hundreds of them. They banked
en masse, queueing up for a landing or package drop on their end of the
Gryffindor table. Harry dropped his forkful of brisket and drew his wand.
He saw Hermione draw her wand as well as she muttered, "I don't believe the
rest of the world has caught up on your 'prank' yet."
                                     [[]]
Monday was equally chock-full of mockery and antagonistic post for both Katie
and Harry. Holly had reappeared by then and she assured Harry that his 'play it
off' strategy was sound and valid. It was one of the few times Harry was glad
that Holly was a handful of ink- anything larger and she'd have been noticed,
as everything about him was being noted, commented on and criticised by his
enemies, which at this point included 'everyone but the people I've kissed'.
Even Ron was taking the mickey.
Tuesday night he and Katie finally arranged to meet alone after dinner, finding
separate paths to a disused tunnel to Hogsmeade that had collapsed some time in
years past. Harry had arrived first and recruited a wayward fairy to lead Katie
down the passage to him. Soon enough he could see the floating luminescence
leading a witch with a ready wand towards where he sat on a wooden bench he'd
unshrunk whilst waiting.
He whispered 'thanks' to the tiny fae, who sped back along the tunnel. Katie
turned back from watching it depart, her face shadowed oddly in the blue
radiance cast by the dozen bluebell flames he'd put in jars around their tunnel
room.
Katie whined, "People are watching or following me everywhere! You wouldn't
believe what it took to meet you here!" She stowed her wand in her robes and
sat down next to him.
Harry's brows knotted. "Yes, I would."
"Oh, yeah, I guess you would. Anyway Fred told me how to get here and I almost
ignored him, except he seemed oddly serious about it."
"Yeah," Harry replied with confidence, "the twins know when not to mess with
me."
"Such bravado! No one in their right mind would trust a Weasley twin."
Harry smiled and said, "But you already knew I'm a nutter."
Katie smiled back but her face fell after a pause. "I should mention... my mum
would like to know if you plan on making an honest witch out of me."
Harry caught short his original off-hand reply. Katie glared at him. He
squinted back.
"You may reply to your mother that, 'While I find you to be a delightful person
and an excellent Quidditch player, you and I are victims of hearsay and
innuendo, and that suggesting any other action was needed would be to admit
guilt where none exists.' That's what my tutor suggested we say, anyway."
"Harry, they got it right- we had sex."
"Yeah, and we agreed not to feel guilty about it."
"Oh, yeah! Good point."
"You want me to write a letter to her?"
"I can cover it with what you said. Thanks." Katie stood up to leave. Harry
grabbed her hand.
"Hey, Katie?"
"Yeah?"
"Has your week been as rotten as mine has?"
"Probably."
He looked up at her. She looked at him quizzically, then a light dawned. She
slumped down and then rearranged her legs to straddle him on the bench.
Harry said in a playful way, "It's been really hard for me."
She replied, "I know..." and ground her mound against his rising erection,
exhaling, "...just how you feel."
Harry grinned until they kissed. Katie shrugged her robes off her shoulders and
then wrapped her arms around his head, trapping them into an intense snog. This
was Katie's particular habit that he enjoyed- the way she caressed and massaged
her fingers into his hair as they kissed. He supported her back with one hand
on her dress shirt and used the other to grip her arse through her skintight
denims, aiding in the grind of their pelvises.
Katie leaned back to peel off Harry's henley shirt and then drew tight to him
once more, clearly relishing in running her hands across the muscles in his
back.
He felt their leverage change as she leaned into him. The hand that had been
holding her up was no longer needed for the task so he snaked it around and
started unbuttoning Katie's blouse. She leaned back and slapped the hand.
"What?"
"Guys always try to strip the girl first. It's your turn. I'm not losing a
stitch more until you're naked."
"Well, then get off me."
Katie grinned as she dismounted from both Harry and the bench, stepping back to
lean against the wall, hands clasped before her. "Well? Get to it."
"Geez, could you, I dunno, give me a beat to strip to or something?"
"No. I just want to watch you take off your clothes for me. Do it slow, but
natural."
His eyebrows were raised, but Harry decided to play along. He unlaced his
trainers to slip them off, tucking his socks in before kicking them to the
side. He then stood up, facing Katie, staring at her as he unbuckled his belt
and slid it out from around his waist. He stepped closer to her. With more
bluebell flames behind him his skin took on a shadowed, darkened hue.
Katie gulped and then nodded for him to continue.
Harry unbuttoned his denims and splayed open the fabric, showing Katie his
briefs, straining to hold in his swollen prick.
He asked in a smoky purr, "All at once, or trousers first?"
"T-trousers, I should think." Katie's hands were busy- one fondling the skin
below her collar where it had unbuttoned three of her blouse's eight, and the
other rubbing along her hip in a way suggesting that it wanted to be doing this
elsewhere on her body- or on his. Her thighs were clamped together, shifting
her hips where they leaned against the rock of the smooth cave wall. Her shoes
and socks had disappeared somehow when he wasn't looking- he could see painted
toenails at the tips of her bare feet.
Harry hooked his hands above the belt loops and pushed his jeans down to mid-
thigh, bending forward to pull one leg out and then the other. He tried to keep
his eyes on Katie the whole time, but a few balance issues drew his attention.
Once he'd stepped out of the trousers, he held them up in front of Katie in one
hand, then let the fabric drop.
Katie's eyes followed the clothes. When she looked up at Harry again, he was
peeling his briefs down to release his cock.
Katie gasped, not expecting to see the man's prick so soon. She stepped
forward, one mutinous hand reaching out to 'catch' the pole as it swung out
from Harry's body. Harry was kissing her before she knew it, and she held his
manhood in a delicate, appreciative grip.
Harry exhaled, "Your turn."
Katie said, "Not yet." She kissed him again, giving his prick an occasional
squeeze to keep it ready. She backed out of his arms and smiled, then dropped
to her knees in front of him. She used her grasp on his todger to hold it up in
front of her, gazing at it as if appreciating fine jewelry. Her off-hand
reached up, grabbed the waistband of his briefs at the back and pulled the
fabric down off his arse and down his thighs. Harry took a moment to step out
of them, then looked down at Katie. She looked up at him- her face flushed and
eyes alight, seeming to ask him, 'Can I?'
Harry reached out to brace his arms against the wall, then gave her a nod.
Katie smiled and took her first lick- all along the length. She exhaled a sigh
and wrapped her lips around the cock from the side, tongue swirling against the
underside of his prick as she inched along from base to tip. Once she slid past
his foreskin, her tongue went wild on his prick-tip, lashing it from all sides.
"Aughh... Katie... so good... "
She replied from her throat, "Ehn-hehn!"
Her hand pulled him towards her and she gobbled down his length a good four
inches, sucking and licking his cock like a popsicle. Her tongue was active and
her lips kept a gentle hold but allowed plenty of saliva to coat his member.
A pulse started in his spine, and Harry grunted a warning. Katie bobbed at best
speed for a minute more, then pulled off after she tasted his first spurt of
ejaculate. She went back to licking up and down the side of his cock whilst
Harry's orgasm shot out onto the rock wall. Katie slowed her pace of licking,
until she was simply laying wet kisses along his flagging length.
Katie popped up to standing next to Harry where he was propped on braced arms
against the wall, sweating and breathing heavily.
"Well, that was fun. Nice seeing you."
Katie turned away from him but before she could make two steps, Harry had
wrapped his arms around her from behind. She yelped in faux-surprise; Harry
could feel the bare skin of her belly in his arms. Katie had already unbuttoned
her blouse for him.
"Just gonna walk away were you?"
"Not now, I guess!"
Harry made short work of her clothes, pulling her blouse off of her arms,
prying off her brassiere, opening and pulling down her jeans and then her
knickers, all with one hand whilst the other held her body against him. She had
giggled through the process, but let out a gasp that echoed down the tunnel
when his hand cupped around her privates and began to rub.
The flesh was wet, swollen and hot and Harry spared no bother to ask how she
wanted to be fondled- his fingers slid down to finger her and back up to pinch
her clit.
Katie gasped again. And again.
Harry pulled against her breast cupped in his other hand, then shuffled them
forward until Katie was facing the cave wall opposite from where they'd
started.
"Stand like I did."
She spread her hands on the wall and looked over her shoulder at him. Harry
rubbed his hand along her snatch again, sending her eyes rolling. He used the
movement of his frigging to force her pelvis to tilt back until it was easier
to fondle her from behind. Her breath was loud and ragged.
Harry lined up his re-hardened cock with her moist entry and then slid home,
penetrating her from tip to balls in one long but inexorable stroke. Katie
called out incoherent protestations, her legs and hips quivering around Harry's
buried prick. He kept motionless, allowing Katie to ride through the wave of
ecstasy.
When she was ready, he fucked her hard. Her lubrication dripped onto the dirt
during his extractions the longer he pounded her. He railed into her, his grip
on her arse cheeks leaving red fingerprints in the white flesh. Katie thrashed
and moaned but as usual said nothing, even as his climax erupted into her. When
he pulled out, she spun around and grabbed his head, snogging him aggressively
to show how much she'd enjoyed that.
And then they relaxed into things. The interplay of shadows on skin in the
flickering blue light made their love making more of a touch-driven process; at
one point Katie laughed heartily when Harry licked his own forearm, having
mistaken it for Katie's thigh in their current tangle. He brought her back into
the mood in a welcome show of force- a light smack to her spread fanny that
nearly caused her to climax.
                                     [[]]
They lay in the dust on the floor breathing heavily and happily.
"Ruined me. Again," Katie protested, "You do not know how to go half-way,
Harry."
Harry laughed. "There's a name for the papers: Half-way Harry."
"No one would believe it."
"That's what makes it perfect."
Over the next few minutes they dressed, casting a few cleaning charm variants
that Harry had learned from Holly; ones effective and/or refreshing but gentle
on skin. Katie knew some but was delighted to learn the other two.
Katie warned, "You're going to have to help me walk out of here."
"What a tragedy," Harry teased.
"Oh, not that I'm complaining on the cause!" she amended, "That was fantastic.
This was all really enjoyable, Harry."
"I sense a 'however'."
"However... Lee asked me to Hogsmeade this Saturday. I want to go. I think it
will help with... things."
"Oh, well, have a good time. I'll stay out of your way- let the gossip hounds
think I'm moping over losing you. Not sure I'm going at all at this point.
Although... maybe I should, just so that Umbridge has something to take away
from me. Any day now she'll be outlawing treacle tart."
"You're okay with that? I think Lee wants to date me. I mean, he does. This
would be a date."
"Katie, up until you kissed me last Friday, I thought you already weregoing out
with him. I don't own you or anything. You make your own choices. I just...
really like it when we agree." He punctuated the coy reply with a cheesy grin,
but stopped when he saw that she was getting scowly.
Katie stared at him for a minute more, then said, "Whatever it is you're really
up to, I'd like to help."
Harry looked down into her eyes for a bit, then said, "How's your Shield
charm?"
"Eh, not great, but why would that matter?"
"If you're going to help, I want you to be able to defend yourself. Let me show
you a few things..."
If Katie was impressed that Harry said that without any hint of innuendo, she
was doubly so when Harry was able to correct her form so she could cast a
strong and reliable Protego.
They left the entrance to the tunnel separately, but despite Katie's
declaration of Lee as her impending boyfriend, she still snogged him good-night
like a lover.
                                    [[[]]]
Harry hadn't talked to anyone at Grimmauld since they'd laughed at him, but
Holly had disappeared again and he really needed an outside perspective.
"Sirius Black. This is Harry, calling Sirius Black."
The mirror's reflection of his face faded away, heralded by Sirius' taunting
tone; "So the Mad Man of Many Moans calls me once more. Am I forgiven?"
"Sirius, I wasn't angry. I just -- what happened to your hair?"
The image staring back at Harry through the mirror was of a man shaved entirely
bald aside from a black handlebar moustache. His eyes were obscured by a set of
rose-tinted spectacles. If Harry hadn't heard Sirius' voice he might've thought
the man facing him was a complete stranger, maybe even Macnair's ancestor from
the 1800's.
"It's how I travel now- in disguise. I've created another identity so I can
breathe a free man's air. This is the face of David Edge of Edge Endeavours. I
even have a flat in Hogsmeade."
"Is that where you are now? I'd love to visit."
"Meet me Saturday in the Three Broomsticks. We can play cribbage and talk
business."
They chatted for a while about happenings, until Harry brought up the reason
for the call.
"I'm not sure about this. I like Katie a lot and we have great chemistry,
though I guess you could say the same for Cho. But I'm not in love."
Sirius' response was predictable; "Bed 'em both and any other photogenic witch
you encounter, Harry, with my blessing. School time is experimental time, where
you figure out what you want and what you can do to get it. Enjoy the life
while you have it. The food, too; those elves really know how to cook, unlike
some miserable Kreachers I know. Oh- that reminds me. Did Ron get those
cookbooks?"
"Cookbooks? No. Why would Ron want cookbooks?"
"They're disguised as cookbooks but half of them are really dueling guides and
defense texts from the library here. Some of the best works even Holly couldn't
find, because I'd hid them. They're not there yet? I sent them with Hedwig a
few days ago- before your shocking and deplorable fall from grace was
announced, but after it'd happened. It did happen, right?"
Harry ignored the poke as he had a deeper concern. "Hedwig hasn't delivered
anything in a while. This isn't good."
                                     [[]]
Hedwig reappeared a day later, her wing broken and some of her primary and
covert feathers scorched black. At the time Harry was in History of Magic so he
took Hedwig out of the lecture at once to seek help. He knew Hagrid still
hadn't returned from his summertime mission for Dumbledore, so Harry headed to
the hospital wing hoping Madam Pomfrey might offer some help. He was
intercepted by Professor Snape.
"What are you doing out of class, Potter?"
Feeling a surge of anger, Harry brought up the command mask. The shift afforded
him a gratifying perspective- he could talk to Snape as if he were no more
important than a rude neighbor. After a pause he stated, "My owl has been
injured- she needs a Healer."
"Don't be an idiot, Potter. That bird needs care from an expert in creatures.
Take it to Professor Grubbly-Plank. I believe she may still be smoking her
stench-weed in the Staff room."
Harry was tempted to open a feeler to see if Snape's mind was accessible, but
realised the danger before he could start. Instead he squinted at the man for a
moment, said, "Yes, thank you, Professor Snape," and changed course for the
Staff room.
At breakfast the next morning, well after all his other, unwanted post had been
delivered and destroyed, Harry was visited by a different messenger.
A small black bird landed on the table in front of him. It was holding a rolled
scrap of parchment in its beak- a pointy beak at that, tan but tipped red as if
it had been stained with blood, though the parchment it held was untinted.
After looking at Harry from several angles, the bird dropped its message onto
his plate.
On the scrap of paper was written, 'Ceci n'est pas un corbeau'. Not
understanding much of French except to recognise it, Harry handed the note
across the table to Hermione.
"It says, 'This is not a crow,' which is obvious since this," Hermione then
shook the note, "... is a piece of paper. It's a reference to 'Treachery of
Images' by Magritte, a Belgian surrealist painter."
The black bird tapped its beak on the table three times.
Harry squinted for a moment, then muttered, "Eh, Hols?"
A single tap this time.
Leaning forward, Harry whispered, "How'd you become a crow?"
The bird extended its wings, fluffed them out, then started in on a succession
of clicks, snorts, kaahs and quorks that almost resembled language.
Harry shook his head at the bird and said, "I'm not getting it."
Ron collapsed into the seat next to Hermione and reached out to grab various
dishes. As he spooned eggs onto his plate, he said, "Are you trying to talk to
birds now?"
"Ron, this isn't just a bird, it's--"
A faceful of black feathers snapped against his nose.
"I mean, yeah, doesn't everyone?"
Harry saw why he'd earned the swat; Umbridge was waddling her way over to
interfere.
"Is this your bird, Mr. Potter?" she demanded, "You know students are allowed
only a single pet- Miss Granger has a cat, Mr. Weasley here owns some sort of
stunted owl; yours is a snowy owl, is it not?"
Harry looked at Hermione, then Ron. "Yeah, Hedwig. She was injured recently.
Know anything about that... Professor?"
"Only that it is being cared for by Professor Grubbly-Plank in a terrible
misuse of her time. Nonetheless, one pet per student, Mr. Potter."
Ginny moved her plate over to sit down next to Harry, then piped in to correct
the professor, "Oh, this bird is mine, Professor Umbridge." She then ruffled
the feathers on the bird's neck. "This is... um... Berrybeak."
The bird quorked, side-stepping over to peck at Ginny's plate. It beaked the
fork and knife around the dish, hunting for bits of bacon amidst the scrambled
egg.
"Strange, having a crow for a messenger bird," commented Madam Umbridge.
"Stranger still, that you would own it, Miss Weasley. I had understood that
your family couldn't afford such an indulgence."
Ron bristled but Ginny calmly replied, "It didn't cost much at all, not being
an owl."
"Oh of course," Umbridge simpered, "Carrion eaters, crows. How fitting."
Ron nearly jumped from his seat but Hermione had gripped his arm well ahead of
his reaction.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Madam Umbridge," said Professor Dumbledore. He had
approached the conversation quite stealthily, startling everyone when he spoke.
He tilted his head back, looking through his half-moon glasses at the bird.
"This is not a crow; not precisely."
Harry and his friends shared a look of panic. Was the Headmaster really about
to 'out' Holly as an animagus?
Umbridge hadn't noticed their traded looks as she was scowling directly at
Professor Dumbledore. "It very much looks and acts like a crow. What else would
it be?"
"That is a rook," Dumbledore replied. He gave Harry a knowing look, then added,
"Corvus Frugilegus- smartest of the Corvidae, they are known to use makeshift
tools to extract insects from their hiding places."
Harry and Ron shook their heads in relief. Ginny slumped in her seat.
Hermione, now at ease, let her curiosity take over. "How could you tell,
Professor?"
Professor Dumbledore smiled. "The legs are shaggier."
The rook on the table cocked its head around, looking at Umbridge and
Dumbledore with one eye, then the other. It tapped against the table with its
beak, or rather onto the fork at the edge of Ginny's plate. The fork levered
upward, flipping its cargo of scrambled eggs into the air to land in Hermione's
hair. Unable to contain themselves, all the nearby Gryffindors burst out
laughing- aside from Hermione, of course.
Umbridge sneered and strode away.
As she combed the egg out of her hair with her fingers, Hermione muttered, "I
hate you."
The rook bowed its head and stood on one claw, tucking its head down and using
the other claw to mimic Hermione wiping food from her hair.
Dumbledore then said, "Miss Weasley, I would appreciate the chance to inspect
your new companion. Might I borrow her for a bit? No harm shall come to her, I
promise."
Ginny looked at the bird. Its wings flared out once, as if to shrug.
She gave Harry a look of apology, then said, "If you insist, Headmaster."
                                    [[[]]]
Partway up the rotating staircase to the Headmaster's office, Holly changed
shape from rook to ink lizard, now over two feet long from nose to tail-tip.
Dumbledore chuckled. "I suppose I should appreciate that you aren't being coy
about your identity."
He strode over to his desk, allowing Holly to climb down from his arm and jump
onto a stack of paperwork. She used her tail to flip the top page off the stack
and over to the blank side, then wrote, 'I'm not able to write as fast or as
legibly with beak or talon.'
Dumbledore turned the paper to read it, nodded and said, "Understood. I'm a bit
surprised that you decided to accompany me. You could have flown away."
New text appeared beneath her dancing tail-tip; 'Harry knows I came up here
with you. If I then disappear, you'll have lost his trust forever. I assume
that means something to you.'
"Of course it means something to me," he said patiently.
The portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black coughed. Albus looked up and said,
"Yes?"
"Most of us can't read what is being written there, Albus. My descendant who
aspires to be a dog uses a charmed rock to aid in her vocalisation. Perhaps you
could ask how it works and make another?"
Albus blinked. "I find it interesting that you're interested, Phineas. If
memory serves, you haven't spoken at all except when the topic has involved
your family."
"This one... interests me."
Albus turned back to the desk to see her collection of glyphs and diagrams that
she'd etched onto a separate parchment. At the bottom of the page she wrote,
'The Sounding Stone is a modified Clairaudience Catcher- basically a baby
monitor made from agate bookends. I came up with this to do transcriptions,
adding emotive keys to aid in expression and adjust volume based on word size
as well as an amplifying multiplier.'
Albus reviewed the design, making a few noises of satisfaction as he read. "And
this jagged line at the bottom- what does that represent?"
Holly added a label next to the graph with the dense shape enclosed within a
Sine wave; 'My voice.'
He smiled. "Fascinating. I think we shall have many things to talk about. Would
you be willing to come back another time?"
'Depends on how this conversation goes, doesn't it? If only to motivate you, I
will say that the not-sleeping thing makes for a lot of alone time.'
"Ah yes, it does." The Headmaster strode over to open a cabinet and browse
through its wide selection of mineral samples. He brought several rocks and
nuggets back to the desk. Holly nudged a piece of agate away from the rest and
wrote below it, 'This is a bit small but workable. I'll stencil it and you can
etch it in place, then give it the enchantments to drive it.'
"Why not the amethyst or quartz crystal?"
'Quartz is good for sound quality as the crystals radiate the hum, but that's
all. You need layered rock - quartz in different densities or mixed with metal
- to act as an amplifier, preferably one where the layers form a smooth curve
to match an arc.'
She had been drawing with a claw on the flat edge of the thick geode at the
same time she was writing on the paper with her tail. At her direction Albus
sliced through the rock with his wand to form a corner, then she scribed
esoteric code on the new flat area. Within minutes they had a working model.
The geode corner echoed in a soft but strong voice, "Testing... testing...
y'know, I think this one makes me sound more like Lily."
The Headmaster slumped back into his chair. "Yes, it does."
"Feeling spooked? Good. A question for you, Headmaster. Why is Harry so ill-
prepared?"
Albus gave her a mild look of reproach and said, "Hogwarts is a school, not a
military academy. The value of the education here is roughly equal to the
effort invested. Mr. Potter is a capable student, but not the most diligent."
"You ass, I'm talking about the conflict, not how you administrate in
absentia."
Several of the portraits offered protests and blustering. Phineas could be
heard saying, "I'm beginning to regret my suggestion."
Dumbledore quieted them with a raised hand, then said, "Miss Evans, I had hoped
we would have a more cordial discussion."
"You and I haven't really met before, aside from assorted drumhead trials, so
let me clue you in; I am not Lily anymore. I'm Holly. Prickly. Poisonous. Able
to endure hardship. Flourishes in the dark and cold of winter. Harry now has
two souls protecting him; I'm the angry one."
"I... see."
"Not yet you don't. This is me being cordial. As such, I'll give you another
clue: I don't find you charming."
"At this point, I would say the feeling is mutual."
"Good. My question may have been too broad, so let me put it this way; why is
it that Harry hasn't heard the prophecy yet?"
"He didn't seem ready." The Headmaster sighed. "I have paid close attention to
his life since coming to Hogwarts, but I prefer not to interfere in a person's
ability to make their own choices. Harry has impressed me with every choice
he's made, when it was important enough. He's a good boy, well on his way to
becoming a good man."
"But not a great one. He wasn't motivated by his fate, because he didn't
realise his importance. I'd say you were guiding his choices very carefully,
only presenting the information he'd need for the crisis of the moment. This
has left him capable enough tactically and yet completely at a loss as a
strategist. If I were a suspicious person, I'd think you were trying to limit
his influence on magical society and leave him dependent on you for guidance on
what matters."
"You have a very interesting way of looking at the world. Let me ask you the
same question from the opposite side; how would you feel about my choices if I
had sequestered Harry starting from the night he was orphaned and raised him to
be an assassin- the perfect weapon to use against Voldemort, should he return?
I would be a monster for doing that to a child, particularly if my beliefs
about Voldemort's survival and eventual return were proven incorrect."
"I suppose I'd be yelling at you for that, instead. The point isn't to get you
to admit your guilt, after all."
"Then, may I ask, what is the point?"
"Establishing my credentials- I'm a mother of a hero and very invested in
Harry's future; I have insights and quite a bit else to offer. Please treat me
with respect."
"I will say, once more, that I am sorry if I have misjudged you. Would you
answer a few questions for me?"
"Like?"
The Headmaster sat back in his chair, several decades of fatigue appearing to
settle over him.
"How is Harry? Is he... happy?"
"Harry is growing. His vision is expanding. He's seeing more and thinking more.
I know he's feeling more, as I've put him through a rollercoaster these past
weeks; ecstasy, tragedy, confusion, relief, frustration..."
Albus chuckled. "If you were hoping to catch up on fourteen years' absence in
his life, I give you full marks for the execution."
"Finally, someone gets it."
"Now for the question I'd rather not ask; how are you?"
"I'm,"was echoed, but then Holly walked off the parchment. The Headmaster soon
lost track of her and started shuffling through the books and papers on his
desk.
A minute later the stone echoed, "Sorry. Wasn't expecting that question. You're
warmer than your counterpart, the one I... fought with more often than not. I'm
fine. How are you?"
"Now, Miss Evans, I'd hope that you'd not dismiss the question as a simple
courtesy."
"I've been bloody liquid up until this morning. If I miss my jump onto a
bookbag it takes me hours to climb up the staircases, and I'm forced to contest
or evade the vermin, foul spirits and escaped animations that roam the halls
the whole way up- and of course Harry dorms in a tower.
"I write whenever I can and I have a lot to say but I'm running out of ideas
specifically for Harry quite simply because he's actually fifteen years old, in
body, mind and soul. He needs the time to read and live and experience and then
reflect so he can integrate all that into his character."
"Ah. I was hoping you had realised his limitations."
"Not just his- it's our limitation as well."
"Still, as his mother I wouldn't have expected you to hasten--"
"I am NOT his mother." The capitals were vocalised with a sharp tone of anger.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You'd better beg! Lily-who-was-his-mother is still protecting Harry. You will
not insult her sacrifice or her efforts to suggest that I'm her or that she's
me."
"I apologise again, for offending you."
"You didn't-- you're offending HER, I'm just pointing it out. Now, you were
saying something about Harry's mother not wanting to rush him through puberty?"
"That is where I was going, yes."
"Life during wartime cuts many a childhood short. It sucks. It's cruel.
Nonetheless, he needs to wake up and smell the battlefield promotion. So do
you."
"And, if I may be so bold, how does awakening his sexual urges help us?"
"Positive reinforcement- leadership has its rewards, too. It shifts his
perspective into seeing himself as more of an adult. Also, it's a nifty way to
strike at Riddle without it seeming to be on purpose."
"I would liken that to throwing rocks at a wasps nest."
"Angry enemies make mistakes and waste energy. Stir the nest often enough and
the wasps don't have the resources to build up a bigger nest. And it's quite
fun. I'm not seeing a downside."
"I suppose there's no point in arguing about it, as it has been done and won't
happen again in your current state."
"Maybe not with me, but Harry's getting some attractive attention. You're right
though- no point in discussing it. Let's talk about your plans for the war."
Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "Impressed as I am with your unique nature, I
am still not willing to simply trust you."
"You're not willing to simply trust anyone. It's going to kill us, you having a
stranglehold on the important aspects of Harry's and Riddle's interlocked
destiny. I want us to win but more than that I want Harry to live. Can you say
the same?"
"So, you actually believe in destiny?"
"Yes, just as you do."
"I? Not entirely. What meaning would choice have if our fates were determined
before we ever were born? Surely, you must also believe in the freedom of
choice or you wouldn't be questioning my choices. Why would you say that you
believe in fate?"
"What a ridiculous question. You're asking me why I have faith in a greater
design? Because I see a greater design! That's the answer to every question of
faith. I believe what I see, because I see what I believe."
"Yes, but why?"
"BECAUSE IF I DIDN'T IT MEANS I'VE SUFFERED FOR NOTHING!"
"Ah, so you've suffered."
Holly's tail tapped against the table several times but no ink was forthcoming.
Instead, she ambled over to the corner of the desk where a shallow depression
was carved to hold an inkwell. Her ink body convulsed as if she were vomiting,
but what came out of her mouth was a strand of pale luminous fiber. She'd
shrunk by a fourth in the process, having used up considerable resources in the
act.
The headmaster snatched a small bowl from a nearby shelf and caught the strand
in it before it could slip off the edge of his desk. "A memory. Of what?"
"Suffering," recited the geode on the parchment, "It's how I lost the fragment
of soul in my scar. Also my worst memory, so you may have gotten a third-hand
account of it from your agent provocateur."
He gave the swirling memory a doubtful look. "Perhaps I should review this
later."
Her tail whipped around to answer, "Perhaps you should seek me out for our next
conversation after you've seen it because until you do we have nothing to talk
about. This is important, Albus."
With that Holly changed back into a rook, though now no larger than a
chickadee.
Professor Dumbledore stared at the bird for a moment. He gave her a
conciliatory nod then gestured for the window facing the Quidditch pitch to
open. Holly accepted the courtesy with a dip of her beak and then flew out the
opening into the day.
Albus looked back at the parchment of their conversation. Only the last line
was still written there, with the Sounding Stone standing close by.
This is important, Albus.
                                    [[[]]]
Though relieved to see 'Berrybeak' return from Dumbledore's office, Harry found
her transformation from bird to ink newt strangely unsettling. Holly then added
to his discomfort.
"So, how was Katie the second time?" the Sounding stone recited for her.
Harry scowled at her for a moment, then replied, "Delightful. It was nice to
make love with someone without feeling like I was struggling to keep up."
"She broke up with you? Or are you strictly casual?"
"Kinda both. Wait- how did you know?"
"You answered by defending yourself rather than her."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"It does if you say it. Pax, love. I'm just asking to make sure you're not
hurting more than you need to be. I like this Katie, and I know you like her,
too."
"Yeah, I do. She's a good friend. Good student, too. Worked out my confused
explanation of the Shield charm. Why is it so much harder to teach a spell to
someone else?"
"Teaching challenges you to know more about the subject than what you're trying
to impart to the student. Most people only pick up a third of what you're
actually saying even if they're paying attention, and that's if they heard you
right and you said something close to what you meant to say. That's why you
have to reinforce your point at least three times. Teaching is a great way to
learn as well, if you're open to it. How did Katie react when she got the spell
right?"
Harry blushed. "Same smile as after she... y'know." A pang of regret passed
through him- he probably wouldn't see that look in her face again. "Maybe I
should offer to teach her a few more spells. I could teach Cho something, too."
"Is Cho even relevant? I mean, yeah, she might have some influence in the
school at the moment, but I can't tell if she's got a brain beneath her
'shimmering curtain of ebony'. Never seemed one to stand up for anything.'
"What about Cedric?" Harry offered, "Cho has strong feelings about that."
'It's not hard to believe strongly in 'I wish Cedric wasn't dead'. What else
makes her interesting?'
"I dunno. I just think... I'd like to think she's worth a chance."
"Your call. If you want to challenge her into being someone, try this on
her..."
                                     [[]]
Harry saw Cho outside the Great Hall the next morning. She was paying close
heed to Roger Davies as he regaled a few fellow Ravenclaws with stories of his
life as a Quidditch Captain. She had her arm hooked around his, her hand cupped
around his bicep quite possessively. Harry caught a stray thought leaking from
her when she glared at his passing- 'That's right Potter; I've got the Head
Boy's attention!'
When he saw her in the hallway leaving Charms class, Harry pulled her away from
her friend Marietta and whispered in her ear, "Don't sell yourself short.
You're worth more than which wizard's arm you're clutching."
"I don't see as it's your business who I'm seeing," she replied icily.
And she totally walks right into it. Hols is scary sometimes.
Harry squinted at her, then whispered, "I don't care who you see. I just hate
to see you waste time worrying about boys when our school is being strangled by
Umbridge. 'Hogwarts is burning down but isn't this a lovely bangle on my
wrist?' Sort your priorities. I thought you were more than just pretty."
"I... you...!!"
Harry shrugged and shook his head as he walked into the classroom.
They next met in Hogsmeade; Cho intercepted Harry just after his quite public
and innocuous cribbage game in the Three Broomsticks with Ron and 'David Edge'.
She pulled him towards the alley but not far enough for people to think they
were doing anything but arguing.
"Don't talk to me like I'm pygmy-puff-for-brains Lavender Brown. I'm horrified
by what's happening here. I don't see getting detention after detention from
Umbridge has done you any good. In fact... you look like shite."
"I've been busy, and I'm not sleeping well."
"If you're so much more involved, what are you planning to do about her? What
would you be doing if you were me?"
"Many things. Won't say what because I'm no fool. Just 'cause you say you're
concerned doesn't prove anything. For all I know, you're her agent."
"I would never ally with that horrid toad!"
"Didn't think so, but I have nothing to go by but instinct. Show me something."
"Like what?"
"Well, people like and admire you, they'll listen to you. What do you have to
say to them?"
Cho paused, then nodded. "I'll think of something."
He nodded in agreement.
"By the way, Potter."
"Yeah?"
"The way you're talking to me, now? I like it." An attractive blush brightened
her cheeks.
Harry smiled. He remembered to leave her the last word and strolled off to
catch up with his friends at the sweet shop.
                                    [[[]]]
Ginny was pleased to see Berrybeak as she flew into the Great Hall on Sunday
morning, even though she was soaked from the rainstorm they could see through
the ceiling. The small black bird carried a note for her. She unwrapped and
read it; her heart pumped a little faster with both eagerness and dread.
'Time for training. Borrow Harry's Sounding Stone and then head for Myrtle's
loo.'
Ginny glared at the bird and said, "You couldn't have chosen anywhere else?"
The rook let out a 'Kahh' and fluffed her wings out- Berrybeak's version of
'Deal with it'.
Making her way back to the bathroom where so much of her first year had been
swallowed into a diary was not just a simple stroll, but Ginny faced it with
determination. Holly would know what she was asking of her by arranging to meet
there- she took the challenge as proof of Holly's faith in her.
Still, Ginny wasn't unaffected. Once a parchment and the Sounding stone were
solidly placed on a shelf above the sinks, she asked warily, "We're not going
down to the Chamber, are we?"
The Stone's inscriptions lit up blue. "Not today,"Holly's voice echoed, "Not
until you're ready, I promise."
Ginny took a cleansing breath. "So, what are you going to teach me?"
"How to hurt people."
"How are you gonna teach me that? You're either ink or a bird. Even as a person
you couldn't cast spells."
"And yet I nearly killed Draco on the train. I'm not talking about hexes and
curses. I'm talking about tuning your body into an expression of your magic.
Have you ever thought what would happen if you jumped off the Astronomy tower?"
"No- I'd get killed!"
"And yet in Quidditch we fly around faster than autos on the expressway,
periodically being pelted by animated cannon balls."
"Okay, maybe it wouldn't kill me but I'd at least break some limbs."
"If you knew what you were doing, you wouldn't."
"You're saying I'll be able to fly?"
"No. You'll be able to land on your feet and, once you've unstuck them from the
sod, walk away. You think Hagrid would be able to do that?"
"Sure maybe, but he's half-giant."
"Tell you a secret- it's a theory I have. You ever wonder how the first giant
came about?"
Ginny shook her head.
"I think the first giant was a wizard who just wanted with all his heart to be
big and tough."
"I wouldn't want to be ugly and stupid, though."
"Which is why we'll skip big and concentrate on tough, and without trying to
make it permanent. Just enough to make your muscles and bones strong as
titanium."
"Self-transfiguration? But that's like... post-NEWT material!"
"No- see, this is where everyone goes off the beam. You don't need them to BE
titanium, just strong enough not to tear apart or break like something weaker."
"How can I do that?"
"Know and accept that it is possible, as I have already trod this path. Then,
start pushing yourself so you get comfortable with what you can do. We'll start
with jumping around and sticking to walls. Take off your shoes and socks. The
spell you need to cast is'Arachnitacta'- meaning spider-touch. The wand
movement is an upright Parson's three-quarter and then a tap on your head at
the '-tacta'."
Ginny sat on the floor to pull off her trainers and stockings, also leaving her
robe behind to allow her the freedom of movement afforded by close-fitting
muggle clothes- a white undervest and denims in this case. "Why'd you use the
left-handed terms?"
"They're more precise in identifying the movements. Up until Declinius Darrow
mapped out their transpositions, all the wandwork was expressed like 'swish and
flick'- assuming that a right-handed person would take the obvious path moving
from center to outreach without specifying 'clockwise' or 'wandpoint upward'. A
lot of shoddy wandwork is the result."
"Alright, but why is it shoddy?"
"Because the wand gets dizzy if your instructions to it are backwards or
confusing."
Ginny was about to cast when she stopped short and looked at the wand in her
hand. "You should be teaching all of us."
"I prefer tutoring- working one on one. It sharpens the focus. Also, I have
some interesting techniques that don't work well in a classroom. Ways to keep
you... motivated."
"That sounds frightening."
"Really? I was shooting for sexy."
Ginny tapped her head to finish the spider-touch spell, then tried to put her
wand away. It was stuck to her fingers. "Um, help?"
"Yeah, that's the funny part- you have to figure out how to mentally release
your hold. It makes for a very educational day of learning to sense your own
body."
Ginny scowled and then stuck out her tongue. Then she discovered that her
tongue couldn't retract past her lips. "MMMMM!"
"Good luck. I'll be here. Laughing."
Ginny found it a small comfort that Holly didn't actually write out laughter
for the Stone to vocalise.
But then Myrtle showed up to laugh as well.
                                    [[[]]]
For Harry's Sunday, he finally got a chance to practice Quidditch with the
team, though they were beset by heavy rains for all four hours of practice.
None of the team was particularly happy with their performance, especially as
there was only a week before the first game.
Harry had showered in the changing room by the pitch- partly for the relief of
hot water to counter the cold rain but also hoping that Katie had made a
similar choice. He was the sole straggler, however, and trudged back to
Gryffindor tower clean but frustrated. He said hellos as he crossed the common
room, heading straight to his dorm for some privacy.
When he got there and turned to close the door, he found Hermione standing
right behind him.
"I've been thinking--"
Harry held up a hand to interrupt. "Does this have anything to do with Katie?"
"Not exactly though of course it would apply to her even if she wasn't taking
the class still, which she is. Katie did mention that her Shield charm was much
stronger now, which is what prompted--"
"Hermione, please, embrace pithiness."
Her eyes popped wide. "Someone's been expanding their vocabulary!"
"Yea, verily. Whaddya want?"
Hermione took a seat at the edge of his bed and then said, "Defence isn't being
taught by Umbridge- you should teach it, clandestinely. We could arrange for a
way to keep it secret, and I estimate that at least half of our year in most
Houses would be willing to learn from you. The OWLs are coming up and anyone
with half a brain--"
Harry gaped. "OWLs? You're worried about OWLs?"
"You heard all the professors at the beginning of term. This is a critical year
in our education, Harry."
"Hermione, is this, what we're doing- the UA; do you consider it an extra-
curricular activity?"
"No, of course not! I'm still a student, though, as are you. We are here to
learn. Exams are how we gauge our success at that learning."
Harry blinked several times. He stared at her long enough to unnerve the witch.
She shrank back and said, "What'd I say?"
"Hermione, I'll have considered myself successful if we leave this school
alive. It'd be great if you could maybe focus on that, instead."
The witch squinted at him. "What are you suggesting? Does this have something
to do with Holly? You know I don't trust her."
"Really? She thinks the world of you."
"Then why'd she toss eggs into my hair?"
"She was aiming for Umbridge!" Harry explained, "But she didn't get enough
force out of the fork. Which reminds me- Holly asked me to give you a present,
if ever I heard you bad-mouthing her again. Do you want it?"
Hermione crossed her arms with a huff. "What is it- laughing gas? Hair
treatment? A charm to make me lose my inhibitions?"
Harry smiled and gestured for her to wait, then shuffled through his trunk for
a minute. He popped up and handed her a loose collection of pages in a folder
bound by a ribbon labeled 'Kittyhawk'. He stood in front of her to hand her the
sheaf.
Hermione took the packet, holding it at the corners with her fingertips as if
it might be infectious. "Why would she give these to me?"
"Read one."
Untying the ribbon, Hermione opened the folder. The top page was a diagram for
a set of Quidditch goggles adapted into a version of Omni-oculars that could
also masquerade as thick-rimmed round spectacles, including a list of spells
for their enchantment. At the lower left corner was scribed, 'All rights
reserved 1995 - Granger, H.J. (Kh); LoM, Inc.'
"I've never seen this before in my life." She then fell silent as she inspected
the diagrams. Page after page of notes followed, and not just for the eyewear.
As Hermione scanned through them a second time, Harry could see she was
beginning to breathe rather deeply.
"Is something the matter?"
"I... I don't understand- why does it have my name on it already? How could
she... Harry, this makes no sense. Some of these things are mine! Or they
should be, as they're based on ideas that I've had floating around for years!"
"It is your work, but from her timeline. Get it?"
Hermione paled. "She really is a time traveler?"
"Yeah. Not backwards so much as sideways."
"Oh, and of course she's willing to tamper with our... our..." Hermione tapered
off as she read through another page, this one sporting a diagram for what
appeared to be a magical voice recorder.
"Looks like. Don't get all high and mighty about it- you and I did a bit of
tampering two years ago and that worked out fine, for us and for Sirius. And
Hermione, note that she didn't take credit for your ideas, either. This was her
Hermione's inventions and Holly felt that only you ought to have them, even if
only to draw inspiration. In fact, you may have to correct her work. Some of
the notes are vague as she had to write them up from memory. You'll need to...
uhh... interpolate."
Hermione looked up at Harry with a near-crazed expression.
"Alright there, Hermione?"
She stood up, wrapped one arm around his shoulders and squeezed until he
squeaked. Then she relaxed the embrace and leaned back to look up at him.
"I need your glasses."
Before he could blink, she'd taken them off his face and skipped out of the
room, the sheaf of parchment held tightly to her chest.
"Umm... okay? Guess I'll take a kip."
                                    [[[]]]
The next Saturday had come, as Saturdays always did. Most Saturdays were a
welcome occasion, worth a party or two, but this Saturday had sat on the
calendar, threatening Ron with its looming happening-ness.
First Quidditch game of the year- Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Always. Ron sat
next to the toilet in the dorm loo, having vomited for the first time in years-
since the slugs, pretty much. His unsettled stomach and the memory of slugs hit
him with a Saturday-powered punch, and he threw up again.
Harry popped his head into the room and said, "I'd say 'let's have brekkers',
but..."
"Not today. Blimey, Harry- how do you do it? Go out in front of everyone when
you're just as likely to soil yourself as anything."
"Usually it happens before I know it's going to. Other times... I vomit in the
loo while waiting."
"You do?"
"Yeah. I never have much more than toast on game days. No point."
"That's right- Hermione always nags you about it before a match. I get it, now.
Wow. That's really educational. Y'know, I think that does it for me for the
day--"
"Off yer arse, Ron! You'll get kicked out of Gryffindor if you don't even show
up. Besides- you've got to see this lion's head hat that Luna made- it makes a
great roar. Just brilliant."
                                     [[]]
The Gryffindor Quidditch team exited their shack to approach the stadium,
cheered on by dozens from their House and others.
Ron had wavered at the door. The Slytherins had been doing some sort of chant
mentioning Weasleys, and he had a sinking feeling it was about him.
He was intercepted then by Hermione, who took his hand and put a small soft
lump of something in his palm. She said, "Now, this will help--"
Ron popped it into his mouth, only to have Hermione smack the back of his head.
He swallowed the nub and scowled at her. "That tastes horrid!"
She held up a second nub and said, "It goes in your ear, Ron!"
"Oh." He put the little peach nub into his ear, then mounted his broom to get
set for the toss-up.
By the time Professor Hooch had tossed up the quaffle, Ron was in position to
guard the Gryffindor hoops. He was also cackling like a madman.
Hermione had enchanted the earplug in a way he would never have expected from
the staid, nearly-repressed girl. Any noise being made by someone wearing green
sounded to him like a bleating sheep.
It was a struggle not to fall off his broom laughing, particularly at the
singing from the Slytherins.
"Baah baah BAAAH meh Meehhh Bahh meeeehhhh,
"Mbaah bahh BAAhh buh Meehh Baah BAAAA!"
Angelina had caught the toss and passed to Alicia, then yelled at him, "Watch
it, Ron!" He cackled but nodded, shifting to dodge an incoming bludger.
His sense of the absurd was so irresistibly engaged that Keeping was almost a
side entertainment; one that he performed fairly well as he had no anxiety left
to distract his playing.
What's more, his cackling was driving the Slytherin players up a tree.
                                     [[]]
Angelina pulled up sharply on her broom, glaring at Harry. "What's with the
time-out?"
"I've been watching their plays- they aren't scoring as often because Katie is
being targeted."
"Don't I know it," Katie exhorted as she worked her arm in a circle, hoping to
loosen her battered shoulder muscles.
"Yeah; any time they can legally knock a bludger at her, they do. That's why
their passes are slow if Katie can intercept. Also, for as much as Ron is
driving them batty they've hardly tried to knock him out. Oliver would've
dodged twice as many bludgers by this point."
Alicia Spinnet looked to her fellow chaser with concern. "We should keep Katie
out of the plays and maybe shift her to a defense--"
"No! We can use this," Angelina insisted, "Katie stays in the center of action
but passing as much as possible."
Katie warned, "We'll lose the Quaffle twice as much."
"Not if Harry is breaking their intercepts. 'Oops- guess that wasn't the
snitch'- they'll think you're trying to protect her but that's NOT your job. By
the way, Katie, he's not trying to protect you, so keep your eyes out for
bludgers. You're just a transfer point- you assist while Alicia and I
concentrate on scoring. If anyone sees Malfoy making a real snitch rush, yell
at Harry so he can break off."
Ron said, "Sounds like the tactic Tutshill used on Pride of Portree in their
last match." He then cackled but suppressed it when Angelina glared at him.
"Alright? We'll give it a try."
Harry gave Fred and George a look, so they paused while the rest moved back
into position. He smiled and said, "You know where the trolls will be aiming-
break some heads. Bludger optional."
George teased, "For not being your girlfriend, you certainly care quite a bit."
"This isn't about that. The snakes have been abusing everyone since start of
term. On the pitch the Quidditch rules supersede the school ones. We can hurt
them up here. Let's do that."
"Any idea why Ron's gone insane?" asked Fred.
"Uh, no, but it's working for him so let's not screw with it."
                                     [[]]
"That's another tough cobbing for Goyle, but he looks to be shaking it off, "
Lee Jordan announced, "Gryffindor uses the opening for another passing attack
on the Slytherin hoops!"
Harry returned to the outer orbit from another false-snitch formation breaker.
Malfoy was lapping on the opposite side of the pitch. There was a flash of
gold--
"Bell gets the pass and it's just her and keeper Bletchley. She's such a grand
chaser I could just kiss her-- she makes the toss-- BLOODY HELL!"
Harry turned at Lee's exclamation and the crowd's cry of mass sympathy- he
could see a tumble of green and red robes falling to the pitch in front of the
Slytherin hoops. He ignored the possible hint of snitch and dove down.
Lee's voice became somewhat hollow in his reporting; "Bletchley and Bell are
down-- Bletchley's broom had shot forward and impaled Katie Bell through the
chest, sending both players falling in a tangle. Hooch has called time and
Madam Pomfrey is looking them over."
Harry let his mask sink into place, repressing worry, fear, anger and
bewilderment to focus on the facts. Another fact made itself known when Malfoy
called out from above him, "Looks like Miles has ruined her for you. Stupid cow
couldn't tell which hole to take his broomstick and ended up skewered."
Harry turned to face him as he descended a bit.
"Tongue-tied again? Why am I not surprised- it's been stuck up her swamp,
hasn't it? Or are you more of a bog-hole man?"
Harry gathered with the rest of the team as they waited on Madam Pomfrey-
Bletchley had roused quick enough, claiming his broom's braking charm failed-
possibly due to a Gryffindor hex. Madam Hooch called it as over-aggressive play
and gave Gryffindor two penalty shots, but that was cold comfort as they
watched Katie being levitated away on a stretcher.
Ginny offered to step in as relief Chaser, but the Slytherins told Hooch they
were denying Gryffindor the courtesy, forcing them to play 6-on-7, 'until Bell
recovers'.
Angelina gathered them for their time-out.
"We can still win this- we're ahead forty and--"
"No," Harry stated.
"What's your problem, Potter?"
It would've taken too long to explain; the coordination of plays; the lack of
comment from Umbridge on Harry's affairs; an arrangement of tarot cards that
was mirrored in one of Harry's rare non-nightmarish dreams...
This is our last game of the year- Umbridge will make sure of it.
He said, "They've taken out one of ours, but figure that our sense of honour
will keep us from doing anything but play harder. Win or lose, they'll be
itching for a fight, one for which we'll be blamed."
"Maybe, but I'm not gonna give up--"
"So I say give them what they expect. Gryffindor honour." Harry then gave Ron
and the twins a look and a gesture that each acknowledged with a solemn nod.
Angelina scowled. "Well that was a whole lot of useless. Let's get back into
it. We switch to pure defense and Harry- find that bloody snitch."
"On it."
                                     [[]]
Harry behaved himself, orbiting high on the pitch and out of the way of the
action. Blameless. The Weasleys, by contrast, had run up a significant number
of penalties, to the point that Gryffindor's forty point lead had become a
twenty point deficit.
Goyle's face was smashed in, though he looked no worse nor stupider for it.
Pucey was suffering balance issues from an ear-popping double hit to the head.
Their captain Montague was clutching to his broom, most of his back having
suffered deep bruising from a series of kicks enhanced to horse-strength by
Ron's Cleansweep. Angelina had screamed herself hoarse trying to rein in the
suddenly-vicious Weasley brothers. But Harry had behaved.
Malfoy spotted the snitch and Harry kicked his Firebolt into action. Malfoy had
the advantage of position, but the snitch vectored towards Harry in a welcome
moment of coincidental cooperation. Harry and Malfoy drew alongside in pursuit
of the whizzing ball flying scant yards beyond their reach. The Firebolt hummed
in his hands but Malfoy held onto half a broomlength's advantage.
They banked, they swerved and Harry's fortunate turn came back on him when the
snitch kicked left with Harry on Malfoy's right. The Slytherin was a yard
behind it with Harry trailing at his bristles.
Harry saw his opportunity. He goaded the Firebolt to its actual full speed (as
if Malfoy on a Nimbus 2001 would outpace him- hah!). He jumped ahead, sliding
so close to Malfoy...
He grabbed Malfoy's robes, spun his Firebolt to drag the other broom out of
vector and scraped Malfoy directly into a goalpost. A resounding CRACK was
followed by a frenetic whistle-blowing, but Harry had caught the snitch just
beyond the collision. This game was over.
                                     [[]]
Everyone from Slytherin was shouting and arguing around Madam Hooch- those that
could. Malfoy's jaw had proven to be less durable than his broom, and Goyle's
facial wounds revealed their severity when his right eye popped out of socket
following a heavy cough. Both were taken to hospital in Pomfrey's care.
The Gryffindors were waiting for the final judgement. Angelina and Alicia
grumbled at the boys but they were ignoring the witches by checking out Ron's
earpiece. George had joined an extendable ear to the nub and the team burst
into laughter when they heard the bellows of many anxious sheep echoing from
Ron's hand.
It was only after they'd lost 80 House points and got 2 weeks detentions apiece
did the boys realize that Professor McGonagall had been yelling at them. Her
green tartan robes had been misidentified by the earpiece as an enemy colour
and thus her voice was translated into an angry goatish Scots burr.
                                    [[[]]]
Ginny strolled into the hospital wing, stopped briefly by Madam Pomfrey to be
reminded about the lifelong punishments due to anyone who might prey upon the
wounded. Ginny assured her that her purpose was solely altruistic. Perhaps just
because Pomfrey was impressed she knew the word, Ginny was allowed in.
She sidled behind the privacy curtain to find Katie looking quite happy to see
her, if a bit anxious. The girl was pale and her eyes were sunken, but she was
awake and lucid.
"Hey, Katie. What's happening?"
"That's what (cough) I was going to ask. No one visits? No flowers? No cards?"
Ginny sat down next to her and handed her the cup of ice chips from the side
table. "Due to continued hostilities, the High Inquisitor has declared that all
correspondence, packages and visitations from either House to the hospital have
been suspended. I'm training with Pomfrey so I'm an exception, as long as I
behave." Ginny then surreptitiously tucked an envelope under Katie's covers
while giving her a devious smile.
"Continued hostilities?"
"Oh, it's been a yo-yo weekend. We won the match but the team's been
eviscerated. Only Angie and Alicia are still allowed to play, since Umbridge
trumped the 'pitch rules aren't school rules' rule and had my brothers and
Harry banned from playing ever again. She's seized their brooms, too. Chained
them up in her office so she can gloat about it."
"No! That sodd- (cough) sodding cow!"
"The other tossers on the Slytherin team recovered well enough since none of
them suffered a collapsed lung due to being stabbed by a broom. Malfoy's jaw
will be spelled shut for the week, but that's considered a blessing in all
Houses and staff rooms, I'm sure. Strangely, Miles Bletchley has suffered a
series of mishaps that have left him bald and babbling nonsense."
"How is that strange? It sounds like classic Weasley work."
"We didn't do it. I think it might actually be the work of a Ravenclaw. It's
mild on the punishment side yet resistant to curatives. Fine work... but you
never heard me say it."
"Gotcha."
"Speaking of unusual pranksters, Ron kissed Hermione in the common room after
the match- she'd enchanted an earplug so he'd hear bleating sheep instead of
that stupid song."
"So that's why he was acting mad as a hatter. What'd Granger do?"
"Whacked him on the head with a textbook. Wasn't happy he kissed her in front
of everyone, y'see. Still, they're dating now."
"I give it... four months."
"I'll tell George to save you the bet. So, if they even let us field a team
again, I'm the new Seeker. Vicky Frobisher will grace us with her awesomeness
as a Keeper. Couple more girls to play Beater and we'll look like the Holyhead
junior squad. Just need you to get well. Alright?"
"Working on it."
"Oh, and I have a message from Harry."
"Yeah?"
"He asks, 'How's your hoops?' He said I'm supposed to wink at you when I say
it." Ginny then winked at her in an uncanny impersonation of Gilderoy Lockhart.
Katie laughed. Even though she suffered a bit of pain from it both girls felt
it was worth it. By the time Ginny left Katie's colour was coming back.
                                     [[]]
Late that night Katie had a second visitor. Harry appeared out of nowhere, cast
some silencing charms and then snogged her silly. They said little but
communicated all sorts of cares and concerns in their kisses.
Sadly, she'd ruined the moment when her still-healing lung had a coughing
attack, rousing the healer and chasing Harry back into the nowhere. That pain
was worth it, too.
                                    [[[]]]
Dolores Umbridge was fuming.
She'd traipsed around the grounds for an hour before finding the Magical
Creatures class, owing to a missive - one she never sent - telling Professor
Grubbly-Plank that she wished to evaluate the class within Greenhouse Six due
to the weather- the weather! It was sunny and dry!
The message from the Minister indicated that her suggestion to make an
Educational Decree to enforce the dress codes was mistaken to mean that she
wanted to personally inspect every student for what they wore under their
robes. That was NOT what she'd written. The fact that Cornelius suggested that
it was 'too soon' was perversely encouraging, but the fact was, her message had
been tampered with after she'd sealed it!
Then there was the owl from Gringotts asking to confirm her written order to
transfer another 199 Galleons into the Werewolf Rights Political Action fund-
she'd never ordered nor would she even consider such a thing! She'd written a
strongly-worded reply that they must cancel any such orders, retrieve any prior
'contributions' and only accept transfer orders as delivered by her house-elf,
then sent the sealed message just that way.
And someone was breaking her kitty plates!
Some of it must be Dumbledore- the changes were too subtle to be coming from
children. What's worse is that her own error-correcting quills, seals and
safety charms were being superseded, and without any detectable spellwork! Even
for Dumbledore, it should have been ... IMPOSSIBLE!
It was her food that tipped her off to the Headmaster's involvement. Only he
could command the house-elves to lie. Muggly, her personal elf had served her
bland food for the last week- before that, everything from the kitchens tasted
vaguely of ham and nothing else, even the pumpkin juice. When she'd protested,
the head kitchen elf - Queezy - had explained that her food was the same as
everyone else's- that lying little worm! Even sampling a bit from Professor
Vector's plate yielded nothing but the cloying, greasy flavour of pork. She
used to like pork. Now she ate gruel, plain yoghurt or bleached rice and drank
water sourced from her own wand.
The last suspicious occurrence was the delivery of a package of maggots and
flies in a bon-bon box. This, at least, she could blame on students, though how
it made it into her thoroughly-charmed office was still a mystery.
The unnerving part, the part she would never mention to the healer, Pomfrey, or
anyone else for that matter, was when she had opened the box to a faceful of
flying insects, and then saw the writhing mass of maggots left within. Dolores
had caught a scent from them. They'd smelled so sweet, so mouth-wateringly
delicious... and she had been so hungry for something that didn't taste like
pig...
                                     [[]]
Holly watched as the Defence professor succumbed to her adjusted palate once
more, gorging herself on a fresh bowl of larvae delivered by Umbridge's trusted
house-elf, Muggly.
The fat woman sat back, aghast at her own actions, weeping quietly as she
attempted but failed to hold back the urge to vomit. Holly crawled behind a
gilded plate mounted above the door; one with a particularly charming and
frisky calico painted in it, and nudged the dish off the wall. The china fell
almost silently, crying out at the last second with a fearful 'Mrowr--?' as it
shattered on the floor. The plate could be repaired, but the kitty would need
to be repainted for it to move on its own again.
Umbridge seethed, "D-damn you, Potter!"
                                    [[[]]]
 
***** Monsters *****
Chapter Summary
     Monsters, scary and otherwise
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
                                [[ Monsters ]]
Ginny was beginning to regret joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She wanted
to play Quidditch, which seemed to be the one thing that they were not
permitted to do. Any time they gathered more than three players in a public
space, at least two of them were given detentions or summoned for other duties.
They coordinated an ambush on McGonagall's office, but their Head of House
could only confirm what they'd suspected: Umbridge was spying on them somehow,
and was using any rule or implied authority to suck the joy out of their lives.
Harry was still being treated to periodic detentions with the fat beast, but
they only seemed to calm him down rather than rile him up. Umbridge appeared
more frustrated as this went on. It was a small, silent victory each time Harry
was placid in the face of her spit-flinging chastisements, but only for those
close enough to him to see it. The rest of the school no doubt counted their
lucky stars not to be him.
In the more personal arena, Hermione had, in a strange fit of girliness,
confessed to Ginny all of her frustrations over Ron. His work habits, his
grumbling, his need to leave everything to the last minute or skip it entirely
if the task seemed too burdensome. Like hygiene.
"If he's so frustrating, why are you dating him?"
Hermione tried answering that question several times during their conversation,
but couldn't finish the statement. She left thoughtful but less upset.
Fate drew Ginny into counseling the other half of the doomed couple when Ron
sidelined her after dinner one night and said, "Gin, you're a girl- what's
wrong with Hermione?"
She gave her brother a fitting look of disdain. "Why should there be something
wrong with her?"
"It's like she's become two people. Four people. There's a bunch of people with
different personalities in her head. Do you think maybe she's under a curse?"
"What are you talking about?"
"There's the one that sounds like mum, telling me everything I'm doing wrong,
even- no, especially- when I'm doing nothing at all. There's the one that wants
me to hold her while she reads- I mean, isn't that why she got a cat? In class
another one shows up, all McGonagall-like and ignoring me completely. There's
the one, well, the one when we're alone and she relaxes. She likes my jokes and
wants me to... suffice to say, that's the one I want to date."
"You get the whole witch, Ron. Take it or leave it."
They broke up soon after. The twins then cornered Ginny, claiming that she
invalidated the betting pool. Hermione was the favorite to end the
relationship, but Ginny was seen as having juiced the front runner. She argued
that Hermione approached her, so it wasn't active interference on her part; she
would have said the same to anyone in Hermione's situation, whether she knew
about the betting or not. No one had asked her about talking to Ron, but the
defence was essentially the same.
Dean won the pot, for which he thanked Ginny by kissing her hand. It became a
thing, where whenever he saw her in common areas he insisted that he kiss her
in some innocuous place (left thumb, elbow, shin, an inch above an ear) as
renewed thanks for his victory. Getting attention from one of the most
attractive older boys in the House was enjoyably distracting from the air of
Umbridge's oppression, but news of it found its way to Michael's ears which led
him to accuse her of cheating on him, right in the middle of the Great Hall
before supper. Ginny guessed that Michael expected some broom closet gropes as
contrition for her 'betrayal', but instead she called him an idiot and broke up
with him on the spot. The slandering as backlash from his Ravenclaw friends
only lasted the weekend.
Dean asked her out the following Tuesday, to which she very enthusiastically
said, "Er... no, thanks."
Everyone was confused, Ginny included. When asked for a reason, she dodged the
matter by saying, "I'll let you know when I can put it into words."
                                     [[]]
===============================================================================
All five fingers this time, please.
The spell bonded her right hand to warm stone, and Ginny let her bare feet
release their grip on the pipe that fed hot water to the sinks. The tingling on
her toes let her know that her burns were healing, but she needed to give them
a minute before using them for bracing. Thus idled, she let her body hang off
the one hand.
A sour whiff of her sweat-soaked cotton undershirt disrupted her concentration,
and she dropped fifteen feet to the floor with a yelp. Both feet slapped down
onto cold flagstones- after the sting of landing dissipated, it actually felt
good. Probably they were the only part of her that did. As her hair was bound
into a long, tight plait, even that hurt a little.
"UGH! Hols, I need a break..."
"Why?" echoed from the Sounding Stone.
"I've been jumping around this room for an hour!" Indeed, even Moaning Myrtle
had grown bored with their most recent visit to her loo and wandered off to
contemplate death in the drain system.
"Okay, instead of a break, do this-"
"Hols-"
"Eh, are we learning or whining today, Gingersnap? Stand easy, shake out your
arms and then link your hands between your tits."
Ginny rolled her eyes but followed the familiar instruction, hooking her hands
in front of her with the knuckle of her right thumb pressed against her
breastbone.
"Breathe... unbreathe... breathe... unbreathe... once you're focused, visualize
a big sieve above your head- a yard across. When you have it ready, command it
to 'shoo the useless moo juice'. Visualize the sieve dropping through your
watery body, thinking of little white clots being caught and dragged down until
the sieve passes through your feet."
Ginny followed the instructions. She decided to run through several passes of
the sieve. After four times, her eyes popped open. "I don't think this is- hey,
I'm not sore!"
"I read somewhere that fatigue accumulates in the muscles as lactic acid.
However it works, you just enspelled your body to stop feeling the burn."
Ginny looked down and said, "Ah- and my feet feel wet 'cause I'm standing in a
puddle of cream."
"Exactly. As your instructor, I suggest that you step out of it and get back to
the climbing-on-the-ceiling work."
She lifted one bare foot out of the warm milky puddle and shook it. "You coulda
taught me this earlier," Ginny groused, "I wouldn't have fallen asleep in
Transfiguration."
"No, that was you being tired. Tired isn't fatigued. This technique only
removes the pains caused by your body trying to warn you that further muscle
use is probably going to tear something- that's fatigue. Being tired is your
body saying, 'Oi! Enough already. We need to think about stuff and put all the
tools away for the next shift.' Besides, Minerva so rarely gets volunteers. It
was a decent thing to do for her, even if unintentional."
Ginny muttered, "... couldn't have been something cool like a panther, no,
McGonagall turns me into a hatstand-"
Her muling was interrupted by a pair of intruders, Clio and Calliope Carrow.
The twin sisters from Slytherin two years ahead of her were well known for
their moon-like skin, unblinking eyes and penchant to enjoy dissecting things
way too much. The door banged open and they appeared, four pale-grey eyes
targeting Ginny a heartbeat later, freezing her in place just by the intensity
of their staring.
It wasn't hard to intimidate her at the moment, as she already felt rather
vulnerable wearing only an undervest and running shorts, her bare feet still
standing in a pool of creamy water that was trickling towards a drain in the
floor. She shot a look towards the sink where parchment and stone was lain for
Holly's recitation and saw with relief that she'd changed into Berrybeak.
"What are you perpetrating here..." said one twin.
After several seconds, the other said, "... little lion?"
"I'd ask you the same thing," she countered.
"We are witches..."
"... we have come to a witch's lavatory to... lave."
The first twin nudged the other and grinned. They walked into the room,
splitting apart to take opposite paths around the edge of the space, aiming to
reconvene around Ginny.
"We have other duties..."
Ginny looked longingly to where her wand was propped in the sink next to
Berrybeak. She said, "What duties-?"
"Pest control, for one. We've been asked to clean up any of the unwanted-"
There was a snap, a shriek and Ginny saw a bluish spell slice through
Berrybeak, catching the bird as it tried to take flight in evasion. The bird
fell to the floor in a pile of black feathers, twitching.
"...vermin."
Shocked, Ginny could only stumble to the floor and prop her body over the bird
to protect it.
Both of the Carrows were standing over her by then.
"Don't touch it, little lion."
"... crows have nasty diseases."
Ginny seethed, "That's MY bird, you sodding cunts!"
"Such language..."
"... this place is contaminated with all sorts of foulness."
One twin faced the other and they nodded.
"We should scour it..."
" ...burn it with fire."
"You might want to leave before we start."
"And cover yourself up; walking around like that, people would start to
think..."
"You're a slag."
Ginny stood up, Berrybeak's body clutched to her chest. She wrestled and
fumbled to loosely don her robe and trainers, grabbed the wand, stone and
parchment and then strode out.
She kept an even temper just long enough to find an empty classroom. Once
behind a sealed door, she lay her bundle atop a long desk. Ginny then screamed
out in rage.
From the desk came a muffled, "Yes! Take that anger and-"
Ginny gasped and stepped back, whirling around to seek out the source of the
voice.
"Oi! I'm still here, Gingersnap."
She turned around and grimaced at the ink newt standing atop the glowing stone.
"How could you do that to me?"
Holly was scribing her words straight onto the reading surface of the stone,
making them come out as fast as her tail could scribe;"What- y'think I meant to
do that? That sodding Carrow cunt has broken my bird form, so now I have to
build up a new one. Praise God, the Devil and that poser Merlin that I was able
to hold onto enough material to switch down to ink, or I'd be starting from
scratch."
Ginny growled at her.
The ink imp nudged the stone over to sit on a scrap of homework sticking out of
Ginny's robe, then started scribing."Like I was saying, you take that rage
you're feeling; focus it, collect it in your chest and then channel it down
your arm into your fist."
"Yeah? And then what?"
"Put it through something!"
Ginny whirled around and swung her arm in an arc over her head and down onto a
dusty desk. It made a loud smack, and her fist stung from wrist to fingertips.
"Ow!"
"Don't hit the desk- penetrate it! Aim to break the stone floor beneath it,
treating the desk as if it's just in the way."
A developing instinct informed her that she'd need a bit more oomph to carry
that off.
Ginny marshalled her thoughts, allowing her feelings about all the injustices
of the last few weeks to bubble up into a thick froth. When it felt like she
couldn't hold onto the pressure any longer, she leapt up and swung her fist
down, her whole body committed to dropping through the floor at the point of
her fist. With a thunderous 'crack', the desk split apart in a burst of dust
and splintered wood, the iron braces falling to either side of where Ginny had
landed crouched on the floor.
Taking a look at the carnage, she breathed out a heartfelt, "Fantastic!"
"Now, let's go to hospital- you probably just broke your hand."
Pain shot through her arm. "Aiggh! Wha-what did I do wrong?"
"Nothing. Your hand isn't used to breaking things. I'm showing you how you can
do the extraordinary- that doesn't mean there aren't consequences. Power
usually comes with a price."
"You could've told me!"
"It would have held you back. Don't be fussed because you had to pay- commit to
the action because it's what you want done. The price will never even out.
Sometimes you get away with murder. Other times you pay triple."
Radiant waves of pulsing protest made her hand feel as large and weighty as an
iron doorstop. After a minute calming the alarms in her mind, she said, "How
did you learn how to do this? I've never heard of anything like it."
"I needed to break my cousin's jaw and got inspired by muggle comic books. This
was before I knew about magic. Counter-question for you, Gin- do werewolves
have more magic than wizards?"
"I don't think so. Do they?"
"No they don't, which means anything they can do, you can do if you just figure
out how."
The pulsing pain in her hand robbed her of breath for a moment. She then said,
"Bet they don't break their bones."
"Bet they do, every month. They just heal fast enough so it won't hold them
back. Ask Remus."
                                    [[[]]]
===============================================================================
Harry shook his head, watching as a sixteen-foot-tall pile of ugliness went
digging for gold up its own nose.
"Your brother." Harry would have covered his face but his bandaged hand twinged
when he flexed it. "Hagrid, was now really the time-?"
"Couldn' leave 'im! Th'other giants was bullyin' him for being runty."
Ron chuckled. "'Runty,' he says. Well, I'd say he's the biggest one around,
now. Why's he beat you up all the time?"
"He does'na!" Hagrid protested. "Lad don't know 'is own strength is all.
Anyhoo- now ye've met, so, there ya go."
Ron said, "You're not planning a class on him, are you?"
"Nah tha's- actually tha's not a bad notion you got there, Ron."
"Yes, it is!" Harry said. "This is what we've been saying, Hagrid. You've got
to watch yourself. Umbridge is on the warpath and has already put Trelawney-"
"'At's 'Perfesser Trelawney', Harry."
"Not for bloody much longer," Harry insisted. "That's my point- you've got to
teach us what we'll see on the OWL exam."
Ron nudged his arm and muttered, "Thought you didn't care about OWLs."
"I don't," Harry whispered back, "but everyone else has a full lifespan ahead
of them, including our friend Hagrid."
"Oh right." Ron turned to Hagrid and said, "Yeah- you should stick to the
Ministry stuff. Umbridge, she loves that. Ministry makes her all gooey."
Harry gagged. "Ugh. What a horrible image."
"Almost made myself sick, to be honest."
Harry stared at the lumbering little giant. Then an idea caught in his head.
"GRAWP!"
"Grawp," the giant replied.
"I am Harry. HARRY."
The giant squinted down at him, measured him against the size of the giant's
hand and then said, "Nah Hagger."
"Right! Not Hagrid... Harry. HAAARREEEE."
"Haaaaa Reeee." The giant's voice had a quality like rocks grinding together.
Ron stepped up and said, "I am RONALD!"
Grawp moved his boulder-like head towards Ron and said, "Unallg."
"No, it's with an 'R', you say Rrrrrronnnnnaallllllduh."
"RRRRRRNALLLLLDUHHH"
"Ronald, get it? Ronald!"
"ERRNALD!"
Ron cheered, "YES! Or close enough, y'know?"
Grawp slapped the ground in shared glee, creating a concussion wave that took
Harry's and Ron's feet from under them. He jumped up and did a little giant
jig, bellowing, "ERRRRnald! ERRRR NAALLLD!" He stopped when a tree branch poked
into his ear, thereby earning its arboreal execution.
"Tha's brilliant Ron," Hagrid said, "Ye got 'im to know ye!"
"Just hoping he'll recognise me enough not to step on me," Ron explained as he
and Harry clambered back to standing. Ron tightened his cloak against the cold,
then said, "Let's get out of here."
"But ye'll come back, won't ye?"
Harry replied, "Sure, Hagrid."
Ron said, "We will?"
"Yeah. Say Hagrid, what does he like to eat?"
"Deer and birds, mostlike, but don' worry on that- he feeds himself fine."
"It's not to feed him- it's to train him."
Ron paled and said, "You're going to train him?"
"Of course not. He barely recognises me," Harry said. "You are."
Hagrid scoffed, "Whad'ya think I bin tryin' ta do alla this time? Do a thing-
get a ferret. Soon as he gets told, 'No, you have to say it right', he knocks
me over, eats all the ferrets and the lesson is done, innit?"
Grawp said, "Fritts? Mmmm, fritts! Gimme fritts!"
"Yknow who really likes this sort of thing," Harry mused.
Ron said, "Loony Lovegood?"
"No, Lavender. She helped Hagrid care for the Skrewts."
"Aye, tha' she did! Braver than most 'spect, is Lavender Brown." Hagrid was
then pushed to the ground by his massive half-brother. He swatted away at
Grawp's hands probing into his cloak. "I don' have any ferrets, Grawpy! Go find
sommat else!"
The three of them trooped back through the Forbidden Forest to Hagrid's hut,
quietly discussing the state of the school with Umbridge in power. Despite
their best efforts, Hagrid continued to act as if his job was safe so long as
Dumbledore was still Headmaster. They also had to explain to Hagrid why
Hermione wouldn't come out to see him along with her friends- the break-up with
Ron being too fresh for them to have reverted to civility, much less friendly
adventure-seeking.
"Hang on- that's why you brought up Lavender! Sure- a quest in the forbidden
forest, a bit of fear from the unknown and then she sees that I wanted her help
with something she likes; plus we'll be isolated."
"Try and practice as many different spells as you can while you're out here.
Hols mentioned that the Slytherins don't pay as close attention to you when
we're separated."
"That's brilliant, mate! I bet we'll be snogging by the third trip!"
Harry shook his head but smiled as well. He clapped a hand on his friend's
shoulder and said, "Don't change, Ron."
                                    [[[]]]
===============================================================================
There were times that Ginny's friend and far neighbor Luna was a true balm of
unaffected whimsy.
Other times she seemed like a lamed kitten cleaning itself right in the path of
stampeding bulls, and the urge to rescue her warred with the instinct not to
get trampled. Such was Charms class this day.
"But Professor Flitwick," Luna enthused, "I'm quite certain that the Patronus
charm is effective against Heliopaths. How else could Minister Fudge control
his Heliopath army?"
Ginny winced. Flitwick was usually willing to roll with Luna's assertions if
they didn't divert the lesson overmuch, but that bloody Toad was attending.
Professor Flitwick glanced towards Madam Umbridge and then said to Luna, "W-
well I suppose that may be the case, but the only documented uses for the
Patronus Charm are to fend off Dementors and Lethifolds. If they prove to be
useful in that case as well, er... you'll be happier to have learned about it
won't you?"
Then echoed the inevitable, "Hem-hem." Even the expectation of Umbridge's faux-
cough gave Ginny a shiver.
"Yes, Madam Umbridge?" said the Professor.
"I hope you don't intend to teach these students the Patronus Charm, Professor
Flitwick."
"Oh, of course not! The Patronus would be NEWT material, and better suited to
your area of speciality."
Maybe that would have ended it, but Luna pressed, "I don't see why we can't
learn it now. Harry Potter can cast one, and did so as a third year quite
successfully. The Dementors left after that, which was quite a relief."
Umbridge smiled wider than ever. "I think, Miss Lovegood, that it is time you
learn the difference between truth and fantasy."
There were a few coughs, some repressed snorts and Vicky Frobisher muttered,
"Psh, good luck with that."
"You will serve detention this evening in my office, Miss Lovegood, at five."
"Why? Did I do something wrong?"
Even Umbridge was perplexed by Luna's confusion. After a bit of sputtering she
said, "You're getting detention for arguing with your professors, disrupting
the class and making false statements that undermine the common good!"
                                    [[[]]]
===============================================================================
"Oh, don't worry Ron. Doing the patrol on my own won't be much different than
when you show up." I should've said that. Sodding prat. I don't care if he
drags Lavender out into the woods on Hagrid's secret assignment. I don't care.
I don't.
Hermione strode purposefully along her route- library to Astronomy tower, use
the hidden staircase that smells like pine boughs down to the corridor at the
far side of the Charms labs, then cross the main staircase to third floor, down
to Hufflepuff, the kitchens, and back to Gryffindor tower.
It was a route she'd developed to best catch out students sneaking to several
common destinations. She would have explained it to Filch for his benefit but
the man was horrid to anyone under the age of forty and deserved no pity.
Bet she's pregnant by Yule. And I won't care about that, either.
"Hermione!"
She looked up to see Ron charging across the Entrance Hall at her, wand out and
an expression of such anger that her own ire was triggered.
"Get Lavender pregnant for all I care-!"
Ron called out, "Protego!" A dome appeared above her like a glass umbrella,
just in time to deflect a ruddy ball the size of a quaffle. The ball caromed
off the shield and directly into Ron, who was sprinting too fast to avoid it.
The ball ruptured like a water balloon, liquid splashing over his face, chest
and the arm held up in defence. There was puff-like sound, and then Ron was
engulfed in flames.
Hermione screamed. Ron did as well, but his prompted Hermione to snap out of
her shock. Her mind raced in trying to work out how best to help him.
"Ron; STOP, DROP and ROLL!"
Ron's flurry of arm movements weren't likely to keep bees away much less put
out the flames- Hermione's plan finally slipped the last piece into place.
"Incarcerous! Muto!"
Thick ropes flung out of her wand to bind around his body, which she then
transfigured into fire blankets.
"Depulso! Accio! Depulso! Accio! Depulso! Accio!"
Her banishing and summoning charms then knocked the near-mummified Ron to the
floor, rolling him back and forth until the flames were smothered out.
Hermione dropped to her knees to strip the thick canvas from around Ron's
smoking body. When she'd rolled him out of the wrappings and cradled his head
in her lap, Ron's eyes opened.
He croaked, "Coulda used water."
She cried while shaking her head, then explained, "Many flammables will only
spread when mixed with water- the proper solution is to stop, drop and roll,
which you were not doing. They teach us that in first form - in muggle school."
"Ohh," he wheezed. "Smart. Didja catch 'em?"
"Who?"
"S-slytherins. Jumped me but I knocked 'em onner arses. Came to save you."
"You did! You saved me. Then I saved you back."
"Always gotta..." but Ron's taunt faded on his lips along with consciousness.
A spell reassured that he was still breathing and likely to continue doing so.
She then looked around, hoping that whomever had attacked them were gone.
Seeing no one, she let her emotions out and sobbed over her friend. After a few
moments of self-pity, she marshalled her focus and set about getting Ron
quickly yet safely into the healer's care.
                                    [[[]]]
===============================================================================
Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle...
Ginny waited down the hall from Umbridge's office. If she couldn't rescue Luna
from the bulls, she could at least pick up what was left after the trampling.
Luna emerged, cupping one arm in the other at the elbow, head down, her eyes
wider than Ginny has ever seen them. The door to Umbridge's office slammed shut
behind her. She looked up at Ginny and sobbed, "She's an infection! The
Ministry is infecting its way into Hogwarts like a flesh-eating... infection...
thing! She made me hurt myself. What sort of m-monster... is a monster ...?
Whyyyy?" With little encouragement Luna tucked into Ginny embrace, who then
shuffled her away from the cause of her suffering.
In a way, Luna seemed more childlike than ever, as if Umbridge had chased off
her usual dreamy detachment, diminishing her to this abused wreck. Ginny felt
new rage rushing in her ears. Then a thought bubbled up, just loud enough to be
heard over the noise of angry protests:
You may want vengeance but Luna doesn't care about that right now. She needs
security. Be your father 's daughter.
It took a moment for Ginny to put the words she'd heard in an order that made
sense over the roaring of her blood. She took a deep breath and then slammed
down the locks on her mind as Holly had taught her.
"Luna, curfew is coming," she said in her most caring voice, "We can't stay
here. Would you like me to bring you up to see the healer, Pomfrey?"
Luna nodded, tears from her lashes flinging onto Ginny's arm.
She arranged their embrace so that they could walk together, like friends
sharing an umbrella. A long, slow climb eventually brought them to Madam
Pomfrey's domain. Luna had stopped crying, but her pain and distress were
taking a toll- Ginny felt like she'd shouldered half of her weight for the last
leg.
Unwelcome news greeted them in the form of Ron, lying unconscious on a bed with
blue-green salve covering most of his face.
Ginny and Madam Pomfrey had the same question for the other's patient; "What
happened?"
Deferring to authority, Ginny said, "Luna had detention with Umbridge. The
cuts... I can't even tell what she was supposed to be writing."
Luna murmured, "My words are worthless."
Ginny hugged her and said, "Maybe to her, but not to me."
"I'll get this patched up," Madam Pomfrey said as they escorted Luna to another
bed. "As for Mr. Weasley, he ran afoul of some form of Greek fire. His eyes
were unaffected, thankfully, and the burns should heal in a few days under this
paste."
"I'm surprised Hermione isn't here."
"She was and would still be, were they not Prefects- duty called them both and
clearly only she could answer. Off to bed, now."
Forewarned, Ginny left Luna to Pomfrey and headed out. Partway back towards
Gryffindor tower, the clocktower bell tolled nine times. She dashed into a
sprint at the first ring, hoping to avoid the curfew patrols. With her luck it
wouldn't be Hermione catching her out.
She turned a corner and ran straight into a wall of black robes, proving her
assumption. A deep and contemptuous voice said, "I was hoping to find you."
Ginny had landed on her bum. She looked up to see Blaise Zabini leering down at
her, accompanied by Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott, gleeful expressions
behind their pointed wands.
"Roaming in packs now, are you?" she challenged.
Zabini chortled. "Such lip from the blood traitor. Get up."
Nott tried to grab her arm but she shoved him away, though not hard enough that
she'd lose track of the other two crowding her.
"Tell me, Wee-little-Weasley," Zabini said, "what are you willing to do to
avoid detention with our dear Professor Umbridge?"
"Nothing." Ginny brushed dirt off her robe once she'd got up to her feet.
"You're not a prefect, and all I'm doing-"
"I'm a prefect," Parkinson said in an unbecoming gloat, "and my friends are
accompanying me on my patrol. You can get detention... or ask Blaise to forgive
you. He might only require a small demonstration of your desire to appease us."
Zabini cocked an eyebrow towards Parkinson. She smiled back.
"Are you mental?" Ginny marveled, "Do you think you can get away with anything,
and no one will say 'boo'? Touch me wrong and I'll bring this all up to
McGonagall."
"Zee, I dunno," Nott said. "She's got a point."
"Things are changing," Zabini said, flicking the air as if to brush away Nott's
warning. "I've been given assurances by the High Inquisitor. Take her over
there." He gestured towards a hall leading to the Divination tower, unlikely to
be visited at night.
Ginny thought of resisting or just breaking away to run, but noted that all
three Slytherins had their wands at the ready. Hers was still stowed inside her
robes.
Stupid, stupid girl. Run and at least one of them will catch me with a spell
before I reach cover. I have to wait and find an opening.
They took her into a hidden passage that led to a narrow stone staircase.
A feeling prickled up her skull, prompting her to whirl around to face them.
She felt the splintery hemp ropes from Zabini's Incarcerous wrap around her and
realised that her opening, if there ever was one, had passed on. The ropes
tightened and she lost her balance, falling backwards down the stone steps to
the sound of their laughter.
Ginny curled into a ball as much as she could and focused past the shocks of
colliding with protrusions to concentrate on keeping her bones from breaking.
She tumbled to a stop probably a floor and a half down.
Soon she could hear the footsteps of her tormentors descending the stairs
towards her.
Parkinson squealed and said, "Ooh, do it again!"
"Don't you think we've done enough?" Nott hissed. "We should just go."
"No," Blaise said. "We have to remove the ropes. Then it's just her falling
down the stairs, isn't it? And I've been wanting to try out the memory charm."
A panic built in her- if she wouldn't remember what happened, there was nothing
to keep them from doing anything to her. Ginny twisted in her ropes to no
avail.
... and then there was a long, gurgling moan, unsettling enough that all four
froze at hearing it. The sound echoed in the staircase, but the source was
obviously coming from above them.
She could see all three of her assailants turning slowly to look up the stairs.
An odd sound echoed, as if wet meat had been slapped onto a countertop. Then
Parkinson screamed.
There was a bunch of scrabbling and much arguing from the Slytherins as they
haphazardly cast spells at whatever they'd seen. Whatever it was had been
struck by at least a few spells, if the roars of triumph meant anything, but
they were followed by moans of protest as the creature they fought shook off
their hexes. The noise abated with the sounds of the three students fleeing
back up the stairs.
Things grew quiet.
Ginny tried to flip around but the ropes resisted her at first. It took some
effort and a bit of enhancement, but she flung herself up from the floor and
managed to land facing the opposite direction. She regretted the success of her
wriggling almost immediately.
It had a lumpy pinkish body with a knobby spine ridging the top of it. At one
end was a neck that ended in a sucker-like mouth. Two eyes stretched above this
on stalks, twisting and turning to gaze in all directions. The other end had
two tentacles, easily a yard long each.
The blob of animated flesh and muscle rolled up and flipped over towards Ginny.
She felt a tendril wrapping around her waist, squeezing around her hips to
anchor its crawl onto her prone body.
It made a shrieking grunt. Something wet happened, and she could smell acrid
fumes of acid reacting with fabric.
Ginny felt the ropes around her body loosen slightly- the creature must have
dissolved a knot. Given the opening, Ginny scrambled to crawl out of her
bindings. She had to twist her way out of her robes, leaving the creature to
paw at the thick woolen fabric. She frantically kicked, landing two solid hits
that pushed it away from her once she was nearly free. The monster whistled and
hissed in frustration as she rolled out of its grip and ended up tumbling
further down the stairs.
Knocking and bouncing her way down, her body scraped or collided with stone
steps, stone walls, and the idle blunted corner. With each painful hit Ginny
was cursing Holly's name, wishing she'd learned more about hardening her body
with magic.
Her tumble ended when her head thumped into heavy oak- she'd run out of
downward in which to flee. She tried to clamber to kneeling and then thumped to
the floor, discovering that 'up' had turned left for the moment, though it was
looking fondly at backwards as an option.
Wet sucking sounds accompanied the approach of the horrific mass, making a
splat-like sound as it came down each step.
Splut. Splorch. Splet. Shhhhsplut.
Ginny could just see the glistening of its soggy flesh in the flicker of
torchlight coming from beneath the door she couldn't open.
A tendril wrapped wetly around her ankle; a wave of cold seeped into her
through its clutch, sapping all the strength from the kick she'd wanted to
apply. The thing began to shudder. Its tentacle around her leg tightened enough
to hurt.
Her body was then wracked by convulsions in a desperate instinct to generate
more heat. Pain from her contusions and scrapes cried out from the tremors, but
the only respite seemed to come from the petrifying chill that was numbing
every limb, except for the one gripped by the tentacle where all the heat
flowed. Unable to move except to shiver, unable to focus beyond her panic, the
underlayer of her mind broke through the noise so that a single calm thought
could be heard.
I'm going to die.
As she felt the numbing wave closing in on her heart, she thought one last
curse- at herself for ever holding back on pursuing what and whom she desired.
I wish I'd... had... more...
                                    [[[]]]
===============================================================================
Professor McGonagall hissed, "What do you mean, 'missing'?"
"Missing. As in 'not where she is supposed to be'," Madam Umbridge said with no
small amount of condescension.
Professor Snape spoke up, "As I said to Madam Umbridge on my way here, one of
my prefects mentioned something to suggest that Miss Weasley could be in some
danger. When I pressed, the only thing I could discern was that she'd last been
seen falling down a staircase near the sixth floor corridor below the hospital
wing."
McGonagall tightened her lips, then said, "And why did the prefect not then go
after her to check on her?"
"Apparently, some sort of horrible creature blocked the path. It was
sufficiently frightening that the prefect had run away, and felt so conflicted
about her reaction that she neglected to mention Miss Weasley's situation until
an hour ago."
Umbridge added, "When I heard of the dear girl's plight, I sent my personal elf
to investigate the corridor. All she found was some rope, rotted away by a
caustic liquid. Tell me, Headmaster, what do you intend to do about it?"
The Headmaster took a few moments to stare at the ceiling. He then replied, "I
certainly think the prefect ought to be reprimanded. The other prefects should
be alerted to seek out any information they might uncover, and to alert others
to be on the lookout should Miss Weasley reappear. No reason to send the whole
castle into a panic."
Umbridge smiled like Christmas had come. "Do you mean to tell me that you,
personally, intend to do nothing about this? Need I remind you that this is the
same girl who had disappeared into the Chamber of Secrets, if reports from the
archives here are to be believed?"
"I am giving it all due consideration, Professor Umbridge. I am impressed that
you should have that information so readily at hand."
Umbridge wheeled around and strode out of the office, nearly vibrating with
glee.
Both of the remaining professors waited until the door shut behind her before
turning to yell at the Headmaster.
"... she'll destroy you, sir..." "...cannot believe that you would dismiss
this, especially for one of the Weasleys..." "... if you couldn't care who was
dying, what about the creature..."
This was soon garbled by the various portraits of prior Heads, either
criticising him in similar fashion or chastising the other professors for their
rudeness to one in his position.
The Headmaster raised his hands, bringing silence to the room. Once all the
attempted speaking had faltered away, he said, "I have full faith in Miss
Weasley's ability to persevere. In point of fact, that it was Miss Weasley is
the reason I am not of much concern. I can say without doubt that she is still
alive and in this castle. We should only be concerned with her circumstances if
her mother were to contact us. Molly has a particularly ingenious device to
keep the pulse of her family."
Snape sneered, "That ridiculous clock? It didn't help her three years ago!"
"Of course it did," McGonagall corrected him. "Mrs. Weasley contacted me right
about the same time as the last message appeared on the wall, warning that
Ginny was in mortal peril. That's why we knew it was her who had been taken
into the Chamber of Secrets."
"Have a little faith, Severus," Dumbledore said, "There are greater magics at
play here than what we teach. The Weasleys' remarkable clock is only one
example."
Green fire flared in the hearth, heralding the tremulous voice of Molly
Weasley. "P-professor Dumbledore? Oh, please tell me you're there. Ginny... my
daughter is... lost."
Both professors glared at the Headmaster. He kneeled down to the fire and said,
"Lost, you say?"
"She was in Mortal Peril, but now she's just Lost. You didn't send her into the
Forbidden Forest, did you?"
                                    [[[]]]
===============================================================================
Hermione was the first to find out, as the Prefects gathered for their weekly
meeting just after dinner. Partway through Erin Moore's briefing they were
interrupted by Professor Umbridge, who insisted that their primary role was to
keep the other students from panicking or trying to interfere with the search
by the professors. To that end, they were forbidden to speak of it to anyone
who wasn't already in the know.
Professor Umbridge then dismissed them, but decided to escort the Gryffindor
prefects back to their tower. While pacing the sullen and silent students, the
professor asked after their Quidditch team's chances in their next match 'with
another player dropped from the roster'.
Hermione said, "We'll find her. We'll get her back."
"Still, it's best to plan for alternatives," Umbridge simpered. "Perhaps you
should follow the example of your sister prefects and join the team, Miss
Granger. In fact, I'll do you the favour and put you down as designated
substitute. No need to thank me."
"I don't care what it takes," Angelina muttered, "We're finding Ginny before
next Saturday."
Once back in the common room and away from Umbridge, the prefects quite
unofficially explained everything they knew. The twins and Hermione gave Harry
meaningful looks until he noticed, and finally led them up to his trunk to get
the Marauder's Map. The four of them scoured every corner and crevice that the
map revealed, but found no trace of Ginny.
George growled, "We need to search but can't be seen."
Harry nodded, but then he said, "Actually, we need someone unseen to search for
us. Dobby!"
The house-elf popped into existence by the bed where they had assembled. "The
great Harry Potter calls for Dobby! Dobby is very pleased to-"
"Time is short. Ginny Weasley has gone missing and we need you to help us find
her."
Dobby paled.
"What?"
Dobby said, "Miss Ginevra is... lost."
"Yeah, we know!" complained Fred.
"Dobby is sorry but there is only one place in great Hogwarts where one cannot
be found."
Hermione sucked in a gasp and said, "The Chamber of Secrets!"
Dobby scowled at her. "Dobby was sure that the great Harry Potter had found
that one."
"Then where?" demanded George.
"The Come-and-Go room," said Dobby. "When things cannot be found, they are in
the Come-and-Go room."
Harry sighed and said, "Alright, good. You just need to take us there."
"Dobby is sorry but Dobby can't!"
"Why not?"
"Because it is lost! It cannot be found!"
Hermione said, "How can Ginny have gotten into a room that no one has ever
found, but that you're certain exists and that she's there?"
"It cannot be found now," Dobby emphasized. "Other times it can be."
"When?" asked Fred.
"When it no longer needs to be lost."
"You're making no sense, Dobby."
The elf's lip quivered. "Dobby does not know how much clearer he can be!"
There was much arguing between Fred, George and Hermione as to what the elf was
trying to say. Harry raised both hands and said, "Shut it!"
All four turned to him.
"Dobby, is there anything you can tell us to reassure us that Ginny will be
okay?"
"Dobby is certain that she will be found as soon as she is no longer lost."
The elf disappeared the moment both twins lunged at his neck.
If only to give them something to do, Harry gave the Marauders Map back to the
twins, who were determined to figure out where a hidden room they didn't know
about could be hidden. They left Hermione sitting with Harry, feeling just as
ineffectual.
Hermione said, "I feel like I've let them down. First Ron, then Ginny. If I had
been doing my job-"
"Stop it," Harry commanded, making her jump. "You're not going to help by
beating yourself up. How is Ron, anyway?"
"He's recovering. Said he still cares, which is why he ran to save— Oh! The
Slytherins! Harry, he'd been jumped by Slytherins and figured that was who
threw the Greek fire at me."
"What- you think they've captured her and are keeping her somewhere?"
"No, but it was Parkinson who first reported that Ginny was missing. The cow
looked contrite enough during the meeting, but she had such an evil grin when
they left. I think... I think she winked at me." Hermione suppressed a gag at
the memory.
Harry sat back. "You want to go after the Slytherins in general? Hermione, if
we're caught doing anything to them right now, it'll be instant expulsion. If
it would lead to saving Ginny, I'd do it, but how is it going to help?"
Hermione shook her head and said, "I don't know." It felt like a betrayal of
all she was, to say that. She broke down crying.
Much to her surprise, Harry reached over and drew her into his arms.
                                    [[[]]]
===============================================================================
...time.
Consciousness could have waited if all Ginny had sensed was warmth. It was the
scent of honey and lemon that coaxed her to leave the comfort of sleep bundled
beneath at least four layers of duvet. Within her blankety cocoon she could see
nothing but she heard the crackle of an active hearth. Ginny burrowed her way
out until she could open a gap to catch sight of the flickering warmth that
matched the sound. Between her in her cavern of covers and the hearth was a
tall stool with a cup of tea set upon it. Beyond the tea was a reading chair by
the fire occupied by a girl- the curves were obvious even though she had very
short hair. She was reading a book, backlit in a way that obscured her
features.
Ginny rasped out, "Hullo?"
The chair-dweller's head jerked up at her query. She rose from the chair on
unsteady legs and approached, bracing on one piece of furniture then the next
in hobbling over towards the bed. The woman then knelt down on the floor next
to the stool, taking care not to upset the teacup. She peered into the coverlet
cave where Ginny was laired.
"How are you feeling?"
Five seconds passed in silence as Ginny processed this:
Not Tonks… is that Holly? The voice is similar but she sounds much nicer ...
kinder ... could this be Lily Potter? Am I dead? Is this a dream? I'm too sore
to be dead or dreaming, so it has to be Holly, but where did she come from? How
did she become -
She was that thing!
Rational thought left her and Ginny scrambled back into and then out of the
blankets, pushing and kicking herself backwards until she fell off the far side
of the bed. She dropped to the floor with a thump loud enough to match the
bruise on her bum that she'd probably just earned.
Her heart was beating too fast and she couldn't see much beyond the bed, nor
did she hear any movement indicating that the Holly-thing was coming around the
side to get her.
After a few ragged breaths she dared to edge one eye above the horizon of
blankets.
Holly was sitting on the floor, having slumped down from kneeling, looking
defeated. Ginny heard her say, "Your tea is getting cold."
"What do you want from me?"
"I dunno," the Holly-thing replied, "Nothing, really. Forgiving me for...
y'know, almost killing you before... would be a blessing, but I'm not expecting
it. If you prefer, I'll go. You can enjoy the room and then head back out into
the school to resume your life without my interference."
"What did you do to me? What are you, really?"
She let out a sigh. "I'm Holly. All other labels are just as arbitrary as a
name. I built a human body up from being a bird- it's an ugly process, as you
might now realise. I was short on magic, and without a form to carry you it
looked like you were done for, so I had to... feed."
"Where's my wand?"
"I dunno; where were you keeping it? Is it in your robe?" Holly fussed with the
pockets of the robe she was wearing until she said, "A-ha!" She pulled a stick
from an inner pocket and tossed it onto the bed. The wand landed with a 'thap',
easily within her reach.
Ginny wrapped her hand around the handle of hazel, a thrum sending its
greetings as she held it ready. She stood up, straightened her white t-shirt
and then glared at Holly. "Why are you wearing my robe?"
Holly clambered up to standing, taking a few steps towards the end of the bed.
"I was freezing and it was available."
"Only after you tore it off my body!" Ginny side-stepped to the end of the bed
as well, dodging around the tied-back curtains to ensure she could keep her
wand pointed at Holly whenever possible.
"I was trying to untie you with one tentacle and some poorly anchored teeth,"
Holly said. "Once I'd formed into something humanoid, I hefted you up the
stairs, finding your robe still entangled in rope. I put it on so that I'd look
like a student, y'know, so I could get us someplace safe without having to
explain who or what I am and how I got into the castle." Holly huffed and then
untied the belt of the robe. She let the fabric slide off her shoulders and
down her back, whipping it around until the garment was held up towards Ginny
in her left hand.
Ginny had tracked her movements carefully as she could, though the only light
came from the hearth-fire, leaving Holly mostly in shadow. Ginny was startled
when she refocused on Holly's whole form, realising that the witch holding her
robe out to her was now nude.
"It's definitely you," Ginny muttered.
Holly shivered, then continued, "Yeah, well, the portraits are more likely to
take notice of a shambling horror or a naked woman walking around than yet
another student out in the corridors too late. Even enchanted paint will stare
at my tits when they're on display."
Ginny caught herself staring at those tits and then tried to lock down on her
stray thoughts. She most certainly did not want to be distracted into lowering
her defenses.
She yanked the robe out of Holly's hand. Taking a brief glance around the room,
Ginny saw that there was only one door and headed for it, nearly tripping over
her trainers which had been left at the foot of the bed. She held both wand and
gaze on Holly while her sock-muffled toes sought to find their way into the
shoes, and then opened the door behind her. Beyond was a wide stone hallway,
lit with a few torches at either end. Across from the door was a large tapestry
that she recalled seeing on the seventh floor, not far from Ravenclaw tower.
Suddenly aware that she'd turned her back on Holly she whirled around, wand at
the ready. Holly hadn't moved, though her arms were wrapped around her chest,
her stance unsteadily balanced on one leg with the other bent in front of her
in an odd pose of modesty.
Ginny backed out of the room into the hall without another word, closing the
door behind her.
It seemed like this shouldn't be the end of the encounter; Ginny stood facing
the door, waiting for something to happen.
Nothing happened.
Even though she fully intended to get with all haste back to her dorm room, she
found her legs unwilling to commit to that plan. Several different feelings
held her in place- affront, curiosity, and doubt.
A minute later she'd run out of indecision and opened the door again. Inside,
Holly had returned to sitting by the fireplace, wrapped in the blue and white
checkerboard duvet from the bed, sipping from the teacup.
Ginny strode in and said, "That's my tea," not stopping until she was standing
next to the chair. She took the cup that Holly handed to her, drank it down,
tossed the crockery back into Holly's hands and then stormed out again.
Ten seconds she stood in the hallway before she spun around and burst through
the door once more- it jammed up partway open this time, as the door had caught
on Holly's foot. The woman yelped and then hopped about, holding her foot and
growling curses.
Ginny said, "Serves you right!" and left once more.
Three minutes. It took three minutes standing in that corridor with her back to
the door, looking at a foolish wizard trying to teach ballet to trolls before
she could move again. She turned-
The door was gone.
This proved to be quite upsetting. Ginny couldn't even tell where the sudden
feeling of rejection came from, but it stabbed at her. One hand lifted up to
touch the blank wall.
She murmured, "Holly?"
Please, let me in. Please, let me in. Please, let me in. Please, let me-
Beneath her hand, wood grew out of the stone until the door had fully formed
once more. It opened on its own.
Holly was curled up in the chair by the fire, inspecting her foot. She looked
up at Ginny and said, "We can do this all night, Gingersnap- I'm not the one
who needs sleep. What do you want?"
Ginny shuffled in and closed the door behind her. "Why did you show up looking
like that?"
"You were in danger. I had to rush into the new form, or they might have hurt
you worse. When I saw I wasn't going to make it to human in time, I compromised
and became the partial... thing."
"You forced your body to do that... for me?"
Holly shrunk into her duvet a little tighter, and then nodded.
Ginny placed her robe at the end of the bed and said, "You can borrow it until
you find a better one."
Holly uncurled from the chair and walked up to Ginny. She stared up until their
eyes locked. She then said, "Thank you," grabbed the robe and slipped it around
her body to replace the blanket, tying it in place and clasping it. Given their
differences in height and frame, it seemed strange that the robe would cling so
attractively to Holly's curves. Then again, if Ginny were curvier the robe
might cling to her as well- she was overdue for a replacement.
Holly stared up into Ginny's eyes again, her green irises drawing her in by
their gravity. "For this and so many other reasons, I owe you," Holly said. Her
voice was soft and patient; "What do you want?"
The question echoed in Ginny's suddenly silent brain. The room was too warm.
The sounds of the hearthfire weren't enough to mask her ragged breathing.
Ginny leaned down. She opened her mouth just slightly... and kissed Holly, lips
to lips. All motion stopped, along with her heart.
It restarted at full speed when she felt Holly splaying fingers through her
hair, cupping her head with both hands.
Unlike any of the kisses she'd shared with Harry or Michael or even the one
with Luna when they were ten, this kiss was what Ginny had always dreamed
kissing should be- soft, warm, a sensual engagement of desire with anticipation
balanced with restraint. Their lips slid together and pulled back just enough
to let a breath through, then pressed forward again with just a bit more
pressure, just a hint more passion. Ginny felt fingers caress her jaw and then
slide around to card through her hair, taking a brief and gentle grip of her
head to adjust their angle and move in once more. Holly's tongue was both very
involved and yet non-intrusive, teasing Ginny to open her lips more or twirling
in sinuous dance with her own.
Then the kiss ended, with Holly nudging Ginny's face away from hers with her
chin.
Ginny leaned back so she could hopefully see Holly's mood in the shadows from
the flickering fire. She didn't appear to be happy or regretful, just...
worried. "H-holly...?"
"There are times when I know what I'm doing, and times when I just fake it. I
quite honestly don't know which way to turn with this."
Panic doubled her heart rate. "Wh-why's that?"
Holly's lips pressed together. Her hands dropped to her sides.
Ginny's nervousness turned into anger. "What, are you just playing with me?!
You talk and talk and talk about sex and magic and destiny and Harry, but when
it comes to me you just shut up and turn away? What do youwant?"
Holly's eyes locked with hers. She said, "I want to make love to every blessed
square inch of your body, Ginny Weasley. I want to kiss your neck and feel you
shiver when I tickle your bum. I want to know if your right nipple is more
sensitive than the left one. I want to see where all your freckles live. I
want... you. There are two things in the way of that."
Ginny could feel the pounding of her heart all the way down to her knees. She
was bouncing between fiery emotions- fear, excitement, anger, hurt and, yes she
admitted, lust. Mostly she suspected that Holly was going to say the worst
thing, the thing she hated most but that she'd heard so very often throughout
her life- 'You're not old enough'.
"Two things- w-which are?"
Holly cupped her hand on Ginny's cheek again.
Oh, here it comes.
"I'm here to help Harry- nothing and no one is a higher priority for me."
That's no surprise- so of course the second reason will be the ugly one.
Ginny nodded, braced herself then asked, "A-and the other... thing?" Her voice
sounded mortifyingly childlike to her ears; no doubt it would confirm Holly's-
"I'm needful at the moment. I haven't... I can't guarantee..." her worried look
became more intense.
"You, being tongue-tied, is not normal," Ginny observed.
"Ginny, I need love and warmth and magic. You've got it, I want it, and I
probably won't stop taking it if you actually offer it. Besides which, if you
wanted to ease into trying out gay, this isn't the way. You'd be jumping into
the deep end of the pool. I almost killed someone with sex once- stopped her
heart. I almost killed you in making this body. Do you honestly think your
first time should be with me, making love to you until you beg for mercy?"
She heard her mouth make a noise that sounded quite surprisingly like 'No.'
Holly looked surprised as well.
Ginny placed one hand at the center of Holly's chest. It took her several deep
breaths before her mind could catch up with her instincts. "You're right. I
don't want to be used or consumed or whatever. I think you're the most
thrilling person I've ever met. I've looked for a long time for what I want to
become as I grow up. It's not my mum, or one of the teachers or any of the
chasers or even Tonks. I want to be like you. Er, this you. I can skip the
monster stage, right?"
Holly bit her lip as if to keep it from speaking out. Her arms crossed and
Ginny could feel the loneliness, the separation created in the movement.
Ginny said, "Y'know, I practised that speech a hundred times in my head over
the last few weeks and I was sorta expecting you to feel complimented. Why are
you looking nervous?"
Holly squinted her eyes closed, and said, "Sometimes I think that I am who I am
because I've felt like there was a knife at my throat ever since learning that
magic exists. It's like a mad cycle of trauma- recovery- intrigue- betrayal-
recovery- evasion or capture- trauma- recovery... "
Ginny's eyebrows rose high. "Maybe we can find another way for me."
"Slower? More deliberate? God, I hope so." She then reached out a hand to touch
Ginny's forearm.
Lust flared again and Ginny felt her resolve breaking. "Holly, maybe-"
"Go back to your dorm," she said. "We'll try things as you're ready for them.
Just know that I think you're worth the delay. You're the better woman. In
fact, by saying 'no', you've pretty much guaranteed that I'm going to pursue
you until I have you under my tongue."
Ginny blushed but smiled, taking an extra glance at the pink tongue-tip as it
flicked out to wet Holly's lips. "What'll you do now?"
An expelled puff sent the fringe on Holly's forehead to swaying in the warm
air. "I still need to... feed. Think I'll find Harry."
A cold flush ran down Ginny's spine. She turned and opened the door, but
couldn't bring herself to walk through it.
"Something else on your mind, Ginny?"
Who am I? I'm the last child and only daughter of the Weasleys. I'm the one who
had to spend her first year of school fighting off possession by a Dark Lord's
relic. I'm attractive. I'm powerful. I'm standing in a room with a disappearing
door that no one can find unless Holly wants them to...
Ginny closed the door and turned around to face Holly.
... and said woman has offered to make love to me whenever I'm ready for it.
"Ginny?"
"Give me back my robe."
"Why?"
Ginny walked up to Holly until she stood close enough to touch. She hesitated,
wanting to reach out but not certain how, or what would be acceptable. She
mumbled, "Because..."
"Because?"
"Because-I-like-looking-at-you-naked!" She could feel every freckle on her body
prickle as if each one was scandalised by the rushed statement. "A-and if I
walked away from this I'd feel like a stupid, immature coward for the rest of
my life."
"Which you're not."
"Which I am not."
Holly clasped Ginny's uncertain hand between her own and brought it up against
her own face. She then reached out to Ginny to touch her the same way. They
moved in, guided by the other's hand and kissed.
Ginny broke them apart this time. She said, "I am, however, exhausted. Can we
take our time with this?"
Holly kissed her again, insisting on several more minutes of unspoken
affection.
Ginny broke them apart again. "Hols?"
"Ginny... I don't think I need sex to recover the magic. I think you just need
to keep kissing me, and making me feel loved."
Ginny grinned. "I can do that. Get on the bed."
They faced each other, staring but neither really trying to intrude on the
others' thoughts.
Ginny had a troubled look, so Holly said, "What's wrong?"
"I'm really fine taking it slow... but I was also... um..."
"Yeah?"
"Looking forward to touching you."
Holly took hold of her hand, brought it beneath the lapel of her robe and said,
"I would love to be touched by you."
They kissed, and soon Holly decided that the room was entirely too warm for
clothing. Ginny demurred, as being short a pint of blood had her a bit chilled,
still.
                                    [[[]]]
===============================================================================
The fire in Albus' bedroom turned green. He looked up from his reading.
Recognising the face in the flames, he said, "Yes, Molly?"
"Headmaster, I hadn't heard from you but Ginny is back at school. May I assume
things are under control and I can get some sleep again?"
"Molly, your clock is making a fool of me again. I had no new information to
give you as reassurance, else I would have called, even if it is a bit late."
Mrs. Weasley's voice carried a hopeful uncertainty; "I thought as much. It's a
bit curious..."
"What is?"
"My sons are in Bed, yet Ginny is... at School. Perhaps... an Astronomy class?"
"None are scheduled. We shall have to add that to the list of questions to ask
of her once her exact location is discovered. Try and get some sleep, Molly. I
am sure that Ginny is safe enough."
                                    [[[]]]
===============================================================================
Resolved that Ginny had been absent long enough to merit creating a cover
story, the girls came up with one. They then got properly dressed with what
they had at hand and headed for the hospital wing.
They snuck their way along the seventh floor. The Room was quite close to the
hospital entrance, so they traveled from shadow to cover, avoiding being seen
or heard by anything they could see or hear themselves. Once they'd arrived at
the right corridor, Holly pulled Ginny into an alcove well out of sight of the
portraits. Before she could say anything, Ginny had tipped her head up and
pulled her into a deep kiss.
Holly reciprocated, and also untied her belt in process of stripping out of the
robe she'd borrowed.
"Hols! Not here," Ginny hissed.
"'Course not, Gingersnap, but I can't bring the robe with me when I vanish, and
you were last seen wearing it. Best to reduce the questions as much as
possible."
"Oh, right." Ginny donned the garment and smiled at her, taking a deep breath
and snuggling into the robe, no doubt still warm and a little musky from
Holly's body. Ginny then kissed Holly, sneaking in a squeeze of her left boob.
Holly 'eep'ed' and then said, "Worse than some boys, you are. Not Harry,
but..."
"And you're really going to-?"
"He's the anchor. I love him. I love you. Don't make me choose."
"Wasn't gonna," Ginny protested. "I'm just surprised you have the energy."
"Why? You gave it to me." She then teased, "In a way, it'll be you-"
Ginny smirked and put her hand over Holly's mouth, saying, "Yeah, yeah, shut up
with that."
Holly smiled, kissed the fingers against her lips, and then vanished.
... appearing next to Harry's bed in his dorm. The curtains were shut so she
ignited a bluebell flame in her hand, then pulled back one curtain just a bit.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Harry lay tucked beneath his blankets, but the bed was crowded by a witch held
tight in his bare arms. Based on her hair...
"Hermione," she exhaled.
The witch in question made a noise, her head shifting on Harry's pillow to
nuzzle into his neck.
Holly closed her fist around the blue flame, extinguishing it with a sizzle and
hiss.
                                    [[[]]]
***** Nascence *****
Chapter Summary
     The rebirth of Holly as a human-sized troublemaker impacts several
     others. A bit of sex, lots of talking
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
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: Nascence ]]
 Just past dawn, Minerva entered the office of the Headmaster to find her
friend and mentor staring out the window.
 Usually when she came to this office, Albus would exchange some pleasantries
and then embark on a story or rumination, or if it were his idea to meet,
explain the needs of the moment and issue his orders. He often framed those
orders in a way that would make it seem like it was your idea to help him solve
his problem, but essentially they were still orders.
 Albus did neither of these. He stood silent and motionless, as if unaware of
her arrival. It was a puzzle.
 He muttered, "I am faced with a puzzle."
 "Clearly."
 The Headmaster paused whatever he was about to say and turned to look at her.
 She coughed and then said, "Do go on; you have a puzzle?"
  "Yes. A puzzle named Holly. Truth and lies surround her in such a fog that I
cannot clearly discern her nature. As a being, she is ... several layers of
impossible. What's more, she has a strong hold on Harry, almost like
mesmerism.  I would call it parasitic except that Harry has flourished under
her influence.
 "I cannot rightly excise her if it would destroy all that I've worked towards
in the matter of Harry's development, but that planning may already be
irreparably compromised. If that were so, removing her when the damage is done
would be an act of spite, of no real use and in fact might do great harm to our
cause. Yet to leave her in place is an implicit approval of her actions, which
I do not wish to give."
 The aged wizard then said in what Minerva felt was a rather childish pout, "I
had such faith in my plans up until she arrived."
 A minute of respectful silence passed. Now feeling open to criticise, Minerva
said, "This sounds like a matter of pride more than a question of logic."
 Albus whirled around to glare but then he paused, shook his head and then
smiled at her. "It is. Thank you. You have been an invaluable voice to me once
more, Minerva."
 "Er... you're welcome?" That went better than it usually did- she had been
expecting to endure several rounds of denials and redirections first. Tempted
by his unusual candor she said, "What does this mean for your plans, if I may
be so bold as to ask?"
 The Headmaster was in motion again, poking through various stacks of books- on
his desk, on the shelves, stacked on the floor. While searching he answered,
"That will take some time to work out, but in summary I would say the new
policy can be described as 'Trust in the affections of the murderess'." Albus
stopped in a quite undignified position of being bent over in half to look
beneath his lifted robes at whatever had nearly tripped him. He then stood up
fast enough to make himself dizzy, holding a weathered leather-bound tome in
one hand and his hat to his head with the other.
 "Albus, are you saying that this poltergeist has killed people, on purpose?
And you want to trust her? Why?"
 He straightened his hat and said, "Even if she hates me and has immoral
feelings towards Harry, there is no longer any doubt in my mind of her
commitment to fighting Voldemort. It will be up to Harry to guide the outcome
to his satisfaction, and I have no doubts about his character. Thank you,
Minerva! Oh, and was there a reason you stopped by?"
 "Ginny Weasley has reappeared, even dutifully presented herself to Madam
Pomfrey as she knew would be required of her. Poppy has given her a blood
replenisher, treated a concussion and administered some Dreamless Sleep potion-
apparently the girl has been through an ordeal in the last day and a half, but
one that she cannot clearly recall. This is eerily familiar to me."
 The Headmaster's eyebrows gnarled for a moment, but then he smiled. "Indeed.
Too familiar for coincidence. I believe that Miss Weasley may be choosing not
to share her recollections, and is merely feigning the symptoms she knows will
grant her the least questioning. Did Poppy report any other observations?"
 "Eh, I'm not certain where to categorise it but yes. Miss Weasley is now
notably... larger."
 "Larger? She is a young woman growing to adulthood, Minerva. I'd think we
should only be concerned if she had shrunk."
 "A stone's weight and four inches taller, since Friday? At first glance I
mistook her for a NEWT student- Miss Smethwyck, perhaps, though Miss Weasley is
of course much leaner. 'They grow up so fast' doesn't quite cover this."
 The Headmaster considered this for a moment. He then said to her, "Aside from
disappointing the High Inquisitor in her search for reasons to have me fired, I
see no need to act on this."
 "Oh, may I do that part?" The prospect of disappointing that woman was a warm
bit of sunlight for Minerva's cold morning.
 "I wish you well as you bear through your unfortunate task. Enjoy." Following
his kind dismissal, the Headmaster sat down and started paging through the
book, no doubt absorbing knowledge at his usual inhuman pace.
                                    [[[]]]
 Last night, Hermione had fallen apart only to be taken into Harry's arms to
let her cry out her worries. He'd said everything possible to support her
during her breakdown. In particular she remembered him saying, 'Y'know, you can
do everything you're supposed to do and very well in your case, but still
lose.' She found herself having a very heated reaction to this display of
wisdom on his part. A few minutes later they'd heard Harry's dorm mates
approaching and she asked if they could retreat behind his bed curtains
together.
 Harry had made no indication that he was surprised nor displeased with
Hermione wanting to stay the night. He left her hidden behind the Imperturbed
curtains just long enough to do his nightly bed tasks. When he returned to find
her wearing only her underthings, he acted as if it was natural for her to do
so and cuddled them up beneath the blankets.
 And yet, Harry was still a young wizard with a witch in his narrow bed, and
his idle touches to Hermione's more ticklish peaks and corners became something
more. Harry's arms had wrapped her against his very warm body, and his one hand
had ended up cupping a breast through her camisole. Hermione felt a misaligned
gratitude that he was treating her as a sexual being, as his lack of reaction
up until then had left her doubting her femininity.
 Perhaps she could have said something- should have, if she'd wanted him to
stop. She knew he was expecting her to say something as he paused after each
'accidental' fondle, but the first thing to escape when she opened her mouth
was a sharp inhale followed by a moan. The idea of saying 'I want you to stop'
at that point would have been an outright lie, and lying to Harry wasn't an
option anymore.  Between the stress of Third year with the Time Turner and his
indignation over her limited communications at the start of this summer, she
wouldn't risk their friendship by lying to him, ever again.
 Her moan in reaction had prompted more active touching, until he was fondling
her quite intimately beneath the layers of underthings. His long and agile
fingers danced in the folds of her dewy privates, the sensations stinging with
pleasure. Eventually she had begged him for release, a hiss of 'please'
repeated until the word had lost all coherence.
 Things went much as they had at Grimmauld Place with the two of them in a bed.
He made her shiver and she let him. Four times, in fact. They would kiss but
Harry didn't guide her hands to his privates- it was an understanding between
them, she felt. They would not be betraying their friendship with Ron if she
was merely a passive participant.
 (Lying to herself or to her ex-boyfriend was not a breach of Harry's trust and
therefore another matter entirely.)
 Hermione's clockwork mind woke her near dawn. She slid out of Harry's bed and
tiptoed around it until she found her day clothes and trainers where she'd
tucked them beneath the bedframe. Dressing was made more complicated by the
shakes she suffered from the December chill. The heating stove had grown cold
overnight and so she stirred the coals to life, much as she would each morning
in her own dorm. Part of her yearned to simply return to the warmth of Harry's
side under the covers, but she would not forgive herself if anyone caught her
there. She'd be in violation of so many rules as to make losing her prefect's
badge a foregone conclusion. No doubt the subsequent taunting would be
unbearable.
 Despite a pressing need to use the WC, she snuck out of the boys' tower and
down the stairs, finding the common room blessedly empty. Skipping her way up
the opposite staircase, she turned to enter the loo only to collide with
another witch.
 Or a reasonable facsimile of one.
 "Morning, Hermione," Holly said with a chipper tone and a glint in her eye.
She then offered Hermione a hand to standing, as their collision had tumbled
Hermione onto her bum but left the stouter woman still on her feet.
 The first observation that drew her attention was of the Gryffindor piping on
the woman's robes. "Is that Harry's?"
 "One of Ginny's. She loaned it to me."
 "You've seen her? Where is she?"
 "She's sleeping in a hospital bed under Pomfrey's care after recovering from
a... debilitating curse. I was watching over her and made sure she got back
safely a little while ago." Holly smiled at her. "How was Harry?"
 "I don't know what you're talking about," shot from her mouth.
 Holly smiled wider.
 Hermione blushed but resolved to admit nothing. She said, "I really need to
pee."
 "Did you want me to help?"
 "No!"
 "Then why'd you tell me?"
 Hermione growled in frustration as she maneuvered around Holly and into a
stall. She didn't hear anything further from the room, which only made trying
to pee more difficult. "Are... are you still there?"
 "Yes. It's early and you haven't had your coffee yet, so I thought I'd give
you a few extra minutes to--"
 "Wait- where did you come from? How did you get a new body? How did you know
Ginny was in trouble? Why were you in the loo, anyway? And how did you know I
was with Harry?"
 Holly said, "Shhhhhhhhh- feel free to urinate anytime there, Hermione. Like a
swelling river overwashing a beaver's dam to flow free... shhhhhh..."
 As if responding to a command, her body released its bilge. Hermione felt a
blush hotter than any she could remember.
 Over the echoing 'shh' sound of her peeing, Hermione heard Holly continue;
"... and the answer to most of your questions of the moment is 'magic'. I was
in the loo because I needed to pace but didn't want to disturb Ginny's dorm
mates nor be noticed by the portraits just yet. Did the diagrams make sense to
you?"
 Caught in the non-sequitur and the end of her other process, it took Hermione
an extra minute to reply, "Yes, they did. Thank you. Your Arithmancy needs some
work as most of the binds were reversed or using the wrong factor, but once I
realised that, the rest made sense. I was particularly amused by the note
'Something clever happens at this join'."
 She exited the loo stall and washed her hands in a sink. Holly leaned on the
wall next to it, facing her.
 "Did it excite you?" Holly said, "Make you warm in a personal way?"
 "What are you-- that's entirely-- could you be more rude?"
 "Oh, don't challenge me on that."
 "Proud of your delinquency, are you? How far down do you intend to drag Harry?
How far have you sunk your claws into Ginny at this point?"
  Holly stepped closer and leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "It's not a
race, Hermione, but if you're hoping to compete..."
 Though Holly's proximity was heating her skin, Hermione attributed that more
to the way she spoke with utter confidence, making her feel... lesser. Deciding
to shore up her ego with a declaration, she said, "I have no interest in you
whatsoever. We most certainly are NOT having sex. I'm not having sex with
anyone, in fact."
 Holly glared her way and Hermione was briefly struck by how much her eyes
resembled Harry's when he was readying for a Quidditch match. Ferocious and
focused and...
 Hermione then blushed again, her memory of the previous night betraying her.
She shook her head and tilted it back, choosing to focus on the woman's lips
rather than stare into her achingly familiar eyes.
 "Ohhhh," Holly said. "I suppose if you get pleasure but don't give it, it
wouldn't seem like sex with someone. Sure."
 Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. "I... how did you--?" Seeing the
woman's impish grin re-stirred her anger. "That means nothing as far as my
having any interest in you!"
 "More's the pity. Still, there's much fun to be had for two people in the wide
field between 'cordial' and 'sexual', Miss Jumping-To-Conclusions. To tell you
the truth, your gasps of offense are losing their appeal. Wouldn't it be fun if
you focused more on the challenging notions and less on the fact that I'm the
one challenging you?"
 Hermione glared at her, not willing to let go of her anger. "I have studying
to do. So does everyone else. What are you planning to do?"
 "Well, that's sort of up to you," Holly said as she turned away, gazing at the
walls of the loo as if the architecture were fascinating. "How much control
over Harry's life do you feel you deserve, seeing as you're not nor ever have
been his girlfriend, not that there's anything wrong with that or with him, nor
would you be insulted if he were to ask you out, though it might seem a bit
unseemly having just broken up with his best friend, not that you care what Ron
thinks right now anyway?"
 Hermione felt heat stinging her cheeks again- Holly hadn't even been looking
at her, so Legilimency wasn't the source of that insightful mimicry. "It's
spooky, the way you know us."
                                    [[[]]]
 Harry woke alone but the night had been blissful in enough ways that this
seemed a small thing to begrudge. Once he was fully awake he recognised that
his situation this morning might be more complicated than average. He showered
and dressed, heading down to the common room to look for Hermione. Whatever
their situation, it would be better to sort it out within Gryffindor tower
rather than the more public venue of breakfast in the Great Hall.
 Apparently Hermione agreed as she was sitting in a chair facing the boy's
staircase, waiting for him. "Harry," she said, in a tone much as if it was his
turn to enter her throne room.
 "Hermione." He walked up to stand next to her chair. "Are you... how are you
doing... this morning?"
 "Just splendid," she deadpanned.
 He crouched down in front of her at whispering distance. "Um, how are you
feeling about... things?"
 "Oh, I'm quite grateful for the comfort we shared again last night, but that
will be the last night. I am determined not to become another notch in your
broomstick. You're my friend, Harry. The best one I have, which at this point
is rather distressing."
 "Oh, thanks for that," Harry teased, "I thought you said you weren't upset
with me."
 "I am fuming, but not at you. I have a message to deliver, but honestly, I
wouldn't do it if it wouldn't seem petty for me notto and I have no intention
of acting as your courier--"
 "What's the message?"
 "Well! Someone's a bit huffy."
 "I'm happy we're still friends and relieved that you're not angry at me for
going a bit too far with the comforting, so what's the next thing?"
 "Ah. You have a visitor. She is, by now, in... your wardrobe."
 Harry glanced behind him towards the boys' stairs. "Um, who are we talking
about?"
 "Your tutor has somehow reconstituted herself. I happened to bump into her in
the girls' side of the tower, as she'd been watching over Ginny."
 Two seconds after the word 'tutor' had forced his eyes open in shock, Harry
gave Hermione a smile of thanks and kissed her on the cheek, then bolted up the
boys staircase two or three steps at a time.
 Hermione called after him, "Ginny's alive, by the way, and currently in Madam
Pomfrey's care."
 When he got back to his dorm, he slowed to a 'casual' stroll, nodding to Dean
as they passed. Noting that Neville and Seamus had already left for brekkers
and Ron was stuck in a hospital bed, Harry sealed the door to the dorm. He then
rushed over to his armoire, opening the door wide. He wasn't disappointed.
 From a shadowed gap between hangers of dress shirts, Holly's wide smile set
his heart to racing. Her hair was a mess of short red locks much like his black
ones, but otherwise...
 "You're you again! Let me guess; you borrowed a robe and hope I don't mind."
 Holly parted the hanging clothes and hopped forward to reveal her unclothed
self, landing with a jaunty jiggle. Harry couldn't hold back an earnest leer of
appreciation, his eyes naturally drawn to her button-like nips. She taunted, "I
didn't borrow your robe this time, so I don't care if you mind or not." Holly
then reached one bare arm up to caress his neck and drew him down into a sweet,
warm kiss.
 Harry took her body in his arms and sank into the embrace. As they breathed
into each other's kisses, he was beset by a memory of tasting a hot scone with
melted butter and raspberry jam on his first morning ever at the Weasleys,
after Ron and the twins had rescued him from Privet Drive; the feelings of
liberation and euphoria were so similar.
 His hands grabbed her body too tightly against his, upsetting their balance.
With a mutual yelp they lurched back into the furniture, collapsing amidst his
laundry. Accompanied by a forgiving giggle, Holly slid her arms into his robes.
She snaked beneath the fabric of his shirt until her skin could rub more
completely against his. Soon his clothes were tossed over his head and Holly
had flipped him to lay on the floor, his upper half cushioned on crumpled
shirts and trousers. She propped her arms to brace above him, her eyes shining
from the shadow of her face and her bosoms gently skimming hardened tips across
his collarbone.
 He said to her, "I'm going to miss breakfast."
 "Is this a complaint or a decision?"
 He leaned up until his lips could wrap around a hardened nipple while also
sliding his hands to grip her round bottom.
 She moaned, "Ohhhhhh, I concur."
                                     [[]]
 Whatever glibness she had been able to put forth was a small miracle, as Holly
truly was nervous about seeing Harry since finding him with Hermione- in her
mind, Hermione was the only person who might convince Harry to shun her. But
then his smile from seeing her was sunshine and his eyes radiated with life and
hope. Moving the clothes out of her way opened the aperture between them wider,
allowing her to bathe in his aura. Then he touched her.
 Emotional honey flowed into her bones. Harry's feelings of joy and arousal
adding to and becoming her own. A desperate need for more contact took control
of her arms- Harry was thankfully welcoming of her fumbling.
  A few more traded bon-mots and Harry had linked her into his power grid by
kissing her breast- an act stimulating for them both, thus twofold for her. In
an inversion of common biology, life flowed from his lips through her nipple
and into her body, lust and magic cycling between and through them. She
would've been fine in that blissful state, but Harry had bigger, better plans.
They'd wrestled the rest of his clothes away and he guided her thighs around
his hips.
 Harry allowed her to drive the process from there and did everything needed as
it was needed. The slow stretching to fit his girth within her new-grown body
was maddening but the sting felt ecstatic and she had to pause a few times as
the rising pressure threatened to cause a skin-tearing twitch. Finally Holly
had slid Harry into her to the hilt. She felt his prick-tip nudging her cervix
with a kiss like a returning soldier.
 Soon they were communicating entirely in motion, skin-to-skin; legs and chests
and hands and lips all connecting in a wide variety of flavours, all succulent
and sweet.
 When Harry climaxed in her, the world became raspberry jam. The feeling
induced her to orgasm as well, and she laughed with such childlike joy that her
lover knew it as gratitude and not merely hysterics.
 It took several minutes, but once her breathing settled to a point where she
could be understood, she leaned down and whispered in his ear, "More."
 He replied, "I was hoping you'd say that."
                                      [[]]
 Harry ogled Holly's naked body as she lay on her belly next to him on his bed,
head resting on folded arms to face him with eyes shut but smiling, her legs
idly kicking the air above her arse. The interplay of muscles and skin along
her back, buttocks and thighs had captured his fascination.
 And yet, you're not really this, are you?
 He reached out and lay a hand at the small of her back to feel her warm skin
shift beneath his touch. "How did you do this?"
 "'Mmm hmmm mmm 'member me saying that Peeves was formed of magical hormone
waste?"
 "When was that? Oh, right- in the library at Sirius' house when you talked
with Professor Dumbledore."
 "Mmm-hmm. Peeves only takes the young ones' accidental magic. That's why he
has the sense of humour of a spastic firstie. Most folks get their accidental
ya-yas under control by third year, so he has been dining on the abundant pre-
pubescent wackiness that gets absorbed into the walls. What's left of
accidental magic residue comes from outbursts of angst, rage and lust." She
leaned off to the side, curled her body together and rolled back so that her
shins were pressed into the mattress, then rocked back into sitting up.
 Harry's brain went syrupy at seeing her plump breasts pointing his way, but he
forced the randiness to settle down. He also tried to focus on her less-lust-
inducing features, like the pixie-ish salad of upright tufts of hair that
resembled his own, only tinted deep red.
 Seeing his effort to avoid distraction, Holly pulled the crumpled top sheet
from under the covers and wrapped it around her body. "I needed more magic to
build more mass," she continued, "and that's what I found. You can tell the
difference after a taste. I left the rage alone- the last thing we want is for
me to get super-magically angry. No one likes it when I'm angry."
 The phrase triggered a recollection; Harry imagined her with green skin and
black hair. "Hols smash?"
 "In a nutshell. The lust, of course, was much more palatable but very rare in
terms of accidental magic leftovers- that tends to come out as physical residue
which the elves can clean away, unlike the psychic kind. What was left was
angst and I drew in as much as I could find."
 Harry smiled. "I'm surprised you can speak in prose, then. Shouldn't you be
ghostly white but shrouded in black and utterly dissatisfied with anything
normal? I haven't heard even one sentence end in, 'like my soul'."
 She burst out laughing, giving him a warm feeling in his spine.
 Then her face drew solemn and she looked at him with a confessional wince. She
said, "I bled off most of the negative emotional charge- neutralised it with
its antithesis, you might say. The thing is... I needed someone magical to
dissipate through. Someone who could counter the self-loathing with... love."
 Harry paled. This was all past-tense, so it couldn't have been him. He gulped
and asked, "Who?"
 "Ginny."
 "And she's alright?"
 "She's fantastic. Also exhausted."
 "Wait, she... you... you used her?"
 "No! I asked. She agreed, wholeheartedly."
 "Why?"
 "Are you asking why I asked her or why she said yes?"
 "Both."
 "I formed near her in order to tip the scales in a fight she was losing. I got
her out of the situation but ended up making it worse for her, so I brought her
someplace safe to recover. When she woke up, I told her what I needed. She said
'yes' because... Ginny loves me. She's rather smitten with me, in fact."
 Harry could see she was trying to hold back, but a wide, indulgent smile
forced its way out onto her face. In contrast, Harry locked down on his
emotions. He then politely asked, "And how do you feel about this?"
 "There's nothing quite so empowering as having another person express love for
you when you're plagued by self-doubt. Now that my regrowth process is done,
I'm feeling a bit guilty." Holly winced but also leaned back to brace her upper
body by her arms, an unfocused gaze emerging on her face. "It'd be entertaining
in a nostalgic way were it not making me ill. The guilt, I mean; there's
nothing nostalgic or ill-making about Ginny. She is entirely fresh and
nourishing."
 "Nourishing?"
 "Well, the angst and such brought me only so far. To get to this size so soon,
I had to drink from a purer well. Turns out the vampires know what they're on
about- blood is life, and I took a pint of hers to finish my restoration. Ginny
forgave me afterwards."
 "Wait, you're a vampire?"
 "No- I'm me. I drank her blood while in transition. I don't need any more.
Wouldn't want it either- tastes like... well, like blood. I'd prefer my red
protein suspensions in the form of strawberry milkshakes, thank you very much."
 "Does she know you're here, with me?"
 "I was very explicit about my plans for our reunion," she said. "Ginny even
offered a few ideas, but I decided that I didn't want to be mistaken for an
enemy due to ambush."
 "What about us?"
 Holly gave him a squint, then said, "How's Hermione? Are Katie's hoops fully
functional again?"
 "Now hold on- we're talking about you."
 "You were talking about us as if we were a couple. I am your lover, tutor and
other things, but not your girlfriend. You can't hold me to an unspoken
standard... especially when you've already broken it."
 "Yeah, okay, but I didn't just screw around- Katie and Hermione mean a lot to
me. You mean even more."
 "Exactly. You mean just as much to me. But this... Ginny... she went way
outside her defined world, reached out in the most compromising of ways to
starkly ask herself what love meant to her and have the answer be 'that spirit
girl made of ink'. That's a lion's roar of courage, there. I love that. I love
her."
 "She's only fourteen!"
 Holly blinked at him.
 "I mean... others will be on you for trying to corrupt her."
 "If she were Vicky Frobisher you'd have a point, but Ginny has been through a
lot more than most, faced very adult situations and made it out the other side
with a healthy ego. She's strong. She makes her own choices, just like you do.
In fact, she chose to go only so far as kissing and cuddles, so dismount the
effing high horse, please."
 Harry's shoulders lost their tension. Indulging a fit of pique, he said, "Is
that what you're gonna say to Mrs. Weasley?"
  "Yes... more or less," Holly said, voice rising in defence. She tightened the
sheet around her body and added, "preferably while standing behind you and at
least two other people with a good Shield charm. I certainly won't be rushing
to mention it to her. Doubt Ginny's in a confessional mood about it, either, so
it'd be decent of you to keep the truth between us."
 Harry nodded but also wondered if it was pointless to try, given Katie's
third-person-blows-the-secret theory. Then again, the Marauders kept their
secrets from Dumbledore for fifteen years. Perhaps the problem is how many
witches are involved.
 Concerned that Holly might peek in to see what he was thinking since he'd been
silent so long, Harry prompted, "So... what are you gonna do now?"
 "Ask for sanctuary from the local bishop. May I borrow a robe?"
                                    [[[]]]
 Harry made it to the Great Hall in time to capture a muffin and a sausage link
before the platters disappeared, barely slowing his pace as he approached the
Staff table. He finished the last bite of meat and wiped his hand in a robe
pocket, then pulled out his 'message' while vectoring towards the Headmaster.
Professor Umbridge stepped in front of him and opened her hand.
 "This is meant for the Headmaster," he said.
 "Is it? Why don't you let me see? It may be that you've misunderstood the
meaning of... whatever it is."
 Harry glared at her, then handed her the carved piece of wood.
 She held it up- a round tower stained dark-red. One of her rings sparkled with
an inner glow and the chess piece trembled just slightly. Her shoulders slumped
and she turned away from Harry, handing the chess piece to the headmaster.
 "Ah! I was hoping that might turn up," said Dumbledore with much innocent
glee. "Now that our set has been restored to full, perhaps we can schedule a
game- come up to my office this afternoon."
 Harry frowned. "Sir, I was rather hoping we could get right into it. You...
you always play better when prepared, and I think it'd be fairer if you had to
just jump into it."
 The Headmaster tilted his head, then said, "Well argued. Let us be off, then."
 Professor Umbridge nearly yelled, "Doesn't Mister Potter have considerable
coursework to complete?"
 Dumbledore stepped down from the Staff table and gestured for Harry to precede
him out of the room. He replied, "I have no doubt that the match will prove to
be very educational. Come along, Harry."
 "I am a fan of chess, as well, Headmaster," the swollen witch simpered. "Might
I spectate?"
 "I wouldn't want you to neglect your Inquisition, Madam Umbridge. Perhaps
another time."
                                     [[]]
 The whole way up to the Headmaster's office, Harry felt a rising tension- like
he was climbing higher and higher in the exposed framework of an unfinished
building. Warnings about 'fighting enemies on their home ground' and 'facing a
bear in its den' kept running through his head whenever he had idle time to
think, and the Headmaster hadn't said anything to help distract him since
they'd left the Great Hall. By the time they'd reached the gargoyle, Harry felt
like he'd gone back to being a first-year caught smuggling a baby dragon out of
the castle.
The Headmaster stopped them outside the door to his office. "Before we sit
down, Harry, I must ask you something."
 "Sir?"
 "Harry, I may need to discuss some aspects of your friend's life that aren't
suitable for less mature ears-" Seeing Harry's impending protest, the man
raised a hand and said, "Not that you aren't ready for the topics, just that...
I have very personal matters to discuss. You may learn things about your friend
that you would wish never to have heard. Are you sure you'd like to stay for
the whole meeting?"
 "Yes, sir. Holly says she feels no shame for her past. As long as I don't hare
off on some sort of foolish quest for revenge, we'll be fine."
 "No shame, you say? We shall see. Please understand, Harry, that I don't wish
any harm or humiliation for either of you, but that it may seem like it at the
time."
 "I understand... sorta. Also, I--"
Harry had felt an annoying itch beneath his hair. His immediate instinct was to
scratch it but after a pause, he brought forward the memory of reunion sex with
Holly that had occupied his morning so enjoyably. He saw the Headmaster's
eyebrows rise to his hairline, and he blinked his twinkling blue eyes quite
rapidly, as if beset by a sandstorm.
 "-- think you should stay out of my head, sir." Harry gave him a petulant
glare.
 Professor Dumbledore gave him a reassuring smile. "Remarkable! You learned
this under Miss Evans' tutelage?"
 "Yeah." A moment's pride was replaced by a concern that he might be acting a
bit too cheeky. "I mean, yes, sir. Pretty much the second thing she taught me.
You may have guessed what the first was." He didn't mind his blush- the
Headmaster looked about as red as he felt. Professor Dumbledore's 'Hrm', cough
and muttered 'Yes, well,' was gratifying.
 The professor then asked him, "Can you detect when the intrusion comes from
other sources?"
 "I think so. Riddle tends to stay away for a day or more after we... er...
whenever I have such a happy morning."
 Harry pulled out a spare robe from his bookbag and held it up like a curtain,
facing away from the Headmaster. A minute passed, then he heard Holly mutter
from behind him, "Ah, bollocks." Holly had appeared as planned, but she was
standing behind him and facing the Headmaster.
 Dumbledore said ever-so-politely, "Miss Evans, how wonderful to see you once
more, in your full glory."
 Harry spun around and wrapped Holly in the spare robe. "Sorry- but you said I
should be facing west."
 "It's my own fault for trying to outmaneuver the Headmaster. You probably were
facing west."
 "Southeast, actually," Professor Dumbledore clarified. "The rotating stairs
are designed to disorient visitors, so you should not let this miscalculation
plague you with doubt."
 They entered the office together but rather than take a seat next to Harry,
Holly walked over to the perch for the Headmaster's phoenix. She bowed her head
to the fabulous swan-sized firebird, then held out her hand. Fawkes leaned in
and nipped at a finger.
 In a burst of fire, the phoenix disappeared from the room.
 Holly nodded and whispered, "Yeah, thought so."
 Harry asked, "What happened?"
 "Fawkes doesn't like me much," she said. "It's cool."
 "But you just met him!"
 "He's had a taste of my sins, and chosen to go elsewhere." Holly turned back
to the desk and said, "Let's move on."
 Harry watched Holly sit down next to him. He then noted that the Headmaster's
expression had become quite guarded in the last half-minute.
 "I heard of Miss Weasley's return this morning," the Headmaster said to Holly.
"May I assume that you had something to do with it?"
 "That's quite an assumption, but you're right," Holly replied as she arranged
her borrowed robe to better cover her legs. "Ginny is the reason I'm eight
stone of pseudo-witch again, and I'm the reason she's been unavailable. Did
Madam Pomfrey force her through a checkup or was she allowed to recover some
sleep?"
 "Madam Pomfrey did insist, and it's only by her authority that Miss Weasley
will have the isolation to sleep as she requires. She was quite exhausted, both
physically and emotionally. Miss Weasley reported having no memory of the last
few days. Is that also your doing?"
 Harry gave her a glare.
 Holly smiled. "You might say that. She's an apprentice of mine as well, and
therefore trained to keep secrets that need to be kept. Her memory is just
fine. Better than ever, in fact."
 The Headmaster seemed a bit irritated by that. He held his tongue for a
minute, then whispered, "Apprentice. Is this a formal arrangement?"
 "I've been paid to instruct, so yes, in both cases."
 "I sincerely doubt that Arthur or Molly Weasley asked you--"
 "Ginny's paid me directly, Professor. She approached me, asked for the
instruction and paid me for my tutoring."
 Harry was about to assure the headmaster that Holly was quite responsible
about people having choices, but the wizard gave him a glance to warn him
silent.
 "Miss Evans, did this arrangement take place here at Hogwarts?"
 "No, it started at Sirius' house."
 The Headmaster's shoulders fell slack.
 Harry asked, "What's wrong, sir?"
 "I have reviewed a memory of your friend's struggles against her enemies, and
I have grave concerns about her influence in your life. Now my concern must
extend to Miss Weasley."
 "Um... why?"
 "This Miss Evans comes from a much darker world than ours, Harry. Witches here
do not live in fear of the baser instincts of wizards. I fret that the cruelty
she experienced has driven her to adopt a more draconian philosophy of living,
and one she now is teaching to you and Miss Weasley."
 "Cruelty? Holly, what happened?"
 Holly glared once at the old warlock then turned to Harry and said, "I will
tell you about this later, so long as you ask me when we're alone and not
surrounded by animated portraits. Suffice to say: everything. However, to
answer the Headmaster's concerns, I will say...," and she turned to Dumbledore
to say it, "You have every reason to worry. That's why I'm here in your office
and not skulking around the castle behind your back. I'm here to collaborate.
My only condition is that Harry gets your full attention. Stop acting like he's
just another student and treat him as the one who can win."
 "And what makes you believe that?"
 Holly didn't reply. Harry glanced over to see that she was looking at him as
if expecting something. He caught up to the question and said, "There's a
prophecy. That's why Riddle came after me and why he'll keep coming after me."
 The Headmaster stared at him. "Do you know what the prophecy said?"
 "Yes," Harry replied.
 Holly countered, "No, he hasn't heard it yet."
 "But you wrote--"
 "An interpretation of mine. Yours may be similar or different, but the
circumstances are so well-aligned I tend to think they'll match up."
 "You've been LYING TO ME?"
 "Harry- it isn't the wording that matters. It's the fact that he and you were
mentioned in the same breath by a prophet that tells us that your destinies are
tied together."
 Professor Dumbledore said, "Really, Miss Evans, I hope you haven't been
filling Harry's head with notions of predestiny and undeniable glory."
 "Um, sir?" Harry said, "To be blunt, Hols -- Holly has likened it to being
stuck with a venereal disease."
 "Yah- you can't get rid of it, but you hope it doesn't hurt too much when it
flares up," Holly said with a huff.
 The Headmaster was notably caught short. "You mean to say that you don't want
to hear Harry's prophecy?"
 Holly said, "Won't change anything, will it? Harry has to face Riddle. No one
else can do it, or else you would have done already, wouldn't you? From the
other side, Riddle has to face Harry- he's stuck feeling incomplete until that
flaw in his perfect record has been handled. In defiance of all logic Harry has
survived every encounter with him unbroken, leading to the conclusion that
there must be conditions on how that confrontation has to play out. Was there a
line about the two of them being equals before they can finish their story?"
 Harry thought seeing the Headmaster angry at Minister Fudge last year was
disconcerting, but seeing the warlock's unrestrained joy at Holly's
understanding of Divination (or at least Prophecies) was bloody surreal.
Decades of worry seemed to lift from the Headmaster's face, and the man leaned
forward on his desk in a way Harry had only seen done by Lavender and Parvati
when sharing fresh gossip.
 Harry did his best to follow the next hour or so of discussion, but some of
the references sounded very odd- almost like movie critics arguing about German
art films. As best he could gather, the Headmaster felt that Holly put too much
faith into Divination to the point of limiting choices on how to eat a pie
(she'd replied, 'For some pies, it matters!'). Holly felt the Headmaster was
simply inconsistent, only believing the signs that reinforced his original
assumptions.
 For Harry's part, neither view suited him as he felt both of them were
entirely too focused on some kind of supernatural accounting system, when in
the end you still have to make and then live with your choices. He found it
much more reassuring to make those choices based upon experience and judgement
rather than stars and superstitions, though a few hints from his tarot deck had
made him feel better about his choices once he'd made them.
 Harry's growling stomach called a halt to the argument. By the time everyone
had taken a breather and Harry had wolfed down a few sandwiches, the topic had
wandered into the more interesting area of the war with Voldemort.
 The Headmaster said, "We've already defended against or undone six attempts to
steal the prophecy."
 Holly said, "I hope that's not all that you have the Order doing."
 "Of course not. Much of our resources are divided between getting the word
out, defending important people from being compromised and tracking the growth
of his organisation."
 Harry asked, "Why don't you just attack them if you know they're Death
Eaters?"
 "At this stage," Dumbledore said, "we can't be caught snooping around or worse
yet assaulting potential enemies without cause. Even if we escaped detection,
they could rally support around them for the 'unprovoked attack on Pureblood
bastions of tradition'. There is also this rather modern notion that they are
not guilty until proven so."
 Holly added, "It's better to keep an eye on the troublemakers you know about,
to see what trouble they're going to make. If you get pinched by taking action
too soon, they'll know they were watched and all the watching goes into the
rubbish bin."
 Dumbledore nodded in agreement.
 "That said," Holly mused, "There is a juicy target that must be considered.
His followers in Azkaban--"
 Dumbledore held up a hand to interrupt her. "I have warned the Minister to
increase the defences of the island, and to replace the Dementor guards with
wizards. It was one of many suggestions of mine that drove Cornelius, in his
paranoia, into sending us the delightful Dolores Umbridge."
 "That's the legal path. Have you considered a pre-emptive strike? It's not
like they haven't already been proven guilty."
 "I think Sirius would take issue with that assumption," the Headmaster said.
 Holly countered, "I think Sirius would be willing to die if it meant that a
dozen of Riddle's worst and most capable followers were buried with him. We can
go down to Hogsmeade and ask him if you want."
 "Why is this a bad idea, sir?" asked Harry. "They were convicted and sentenced
to prison for life. If they get free, won't they join his side?"
 "That's if they're even given a choice," added Holly. "If Riddle breaks them
out, it could be 'Join me or I'll feed you to my new Dementor friends'."
 Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, it is all well and good to say 'We ought to kill
those people' - well, not good but understandable and very common to say to
friends in times of conflict. What we're talking about now isn't just idle
chatter or bluster. Are you willing to travel to Azkaban, break into the prison
and then go cell to cell, casting the killing curse over a dozen times?"
 Harry gulped at the stare he was getting from the Headmaster. "Would it have
to be me?"
 Holly laid a hand on his arm. "You have a voice. So does Albus. He can tell
people to act in opposition to Riddle's song, right, but if he orders others
but doesn't go himself, and Riddle does show up, Riddle will out-sing them.
It's the same thing for you, except you don't have a choir to back you up yet.
Sirius would go, and Remus, probably Tonks and a few Weasleys, but you'd have
to lead--"
 "What about you?"
 Holly paled to milk-white. "N-no. No, Harry. I can't... not Dementors."
 "Ah, and here is the problem in taking advice from the most vocal," Albus said
quietly, even if he was crowing. "Miss Evans may have a notion on how to change
things, but she will rely on you to make those changes happen."
 "Sod off, Albus," Holly said quite rudely, "If there were no Dementors, I
wouldn't have even brought this up. You'd be finding out about it through the
Prophet; 'Mysterious illness ravages Azkaban. Tattoos on the inmates' arms
apparently cause wounds to open on their necks.' I would do this, except I
cannot do this." Holly's face came over in a sort of grumpy concentration.
After a sip of tea she said, "In fact, to do it right you'd both have to go,
and just by choosing to do so, Riddle will probably sense that the storm is
coming and meet you there in force." She shook her head and said, "It's too
soon."
 Harry said, "Wait, so now you're saying we shouldn't attack Azkaban?"
 "I'm saying... it's not just the means and the ends that has to be considered,
but also the... theme. If you believe that these things have as much meaning as
I'm suggesting, then the whole struggle should support the story we are
writing. You can't be the monster and still gather the will of the people.
Wizards aren't like muggles in this way. What they believe actually affects the
reality."
 "Then why'd you bring it up at all?"
 "I'm still working this out as we're talking, Harry! Besides which, sometimes
you have to hash out why you're willing or not willing to do something, in case
the conditions change enough to overturn the decision."
 Albus nodded. "You are very wise for your years, Miss Evans."
 "I'm just finally learning the lesson that the other you was shoving down my
throat."
 He leaned forward and smiled at her. "You're learning from those you hate.
That's wisdom."
 Holly gave him a pained smile.
 Harry said, "I'm happy for you but what about Azkaban? What would you
suggest?"
 Holly shrugged. "Well, you could wait for Riddle to move against the place but
try to get some unofficial support for a fast-response strike force with some
portkeys ahead of time. Madam Bones might be willing to accept the help of
guest militia if she isn't required to pay them. Any actions fairly taken in
reaction to an assault have the blessings of most moralities even if they're
strategically inadequate. The important part is not to let anyone know that
such a force has been made ready and is likely to act, so actually telling
Madam Bones would be imprudent."
 "That's not a bad idea."
 "Actually, it's a terrible idea, but the only one that'll pass muster with the
General, here. I doubt he'll let you go with the rest of the militia, so at
best they'll be too little, too late. At worst whoever is sent will be killed
as well."
 Harry sat forward in his chair. "Hang on- you're saying that there's no
chancethat us sending help will do any good because of fate? I thought I had a
voice."
 "You do."
 "So if I say I'll help, and I get some others to agree to follow me, we can
make a difference."
 "Yes."
 Albus warned, "Harry--"
 "And if I say, 'I think it'd be stupid to wait, we should send an assassin to
kill these awful people', and I'm willing to go along to make sure it's done
right?"
 Albus stood and said, "Harry, I forbid it. You are still a student."
 Harry's heart doubled speed but he clamped down on his panic and forced the
new, fear-laced voices to stop bothering the thought he'd been trying to
finish. He stood as well.
 "I think that that's worth being expelled, sir."
 Albus' anger dissipated. He gave Harry a plaintive look. "Are you so sure of
that?"
 "No, but I'm willing to try it anyway."
 "If you intend to do this, I cannot help you. You'll have to find your own...
murderer."
 Harry glared back at him and said, "You mean assassin."
 "It's a war," Holly said. "Such people are known as special forces... or
spies."
 "We are not in open war yet, Miss Evans," the Headmaster said as he sat back
into his chair.
 Harry gave him an incredulous look, then turned to Holly.
 He's not at war yet?
 In his head, Harry heard Holly's reply; 'We fight alone until he catches up,
Brigadier.'
 She shrugged and said aloud, "Guess that settles that."
 Harry sat down. He suspected that the Headmaster was fully aware of their
intentions to pursue an attack. It showed a kind of respect that he was acting
otherwise.
 The Headmaster took another sip of tea, then said, "Miss Evans, I am concerned
with how you plan to interact with Professor Snape."
 "Aggressively," she replied.
 "I would rather you didn't."
 "Why," Holly challenged, "Don't you think he's due for a comeuppance from me?"
 In his head Harry was emphatically agreeing, but he held his tongue. They'd
agreed earlier that this was Holly's fight.
 "Severus made a mistake," the Headmaster said, "and one he doesn't actually
recall at this point."
 "Obliviated the spy, eh? How expeditious of you," taunted Holly. "Still,
however you think you've wiped clean the sin, it still demonstrated the
character of the sinner. Mr. Snape and I will find our way into a
confrontation. It's inevitable."
 Professor Dumbledore stared down at his hands folded on the desk, a gesture
Harry took as knowing he was going too far but feeling obligated to do so. "I
ask that you avoid such a confrontation for however long you can, and afford
him mercy and empathy should it come to pass."
 Harry bristled. "Mercy and empathy? Sir, I am about one foul day from killing
the man! The only benefit to having Inquisitor Umbridge here this term has been
to focus my hate on an even worthier target. What-gives-you--- Urgh!" Harry
bolted up from his seat. "Why do you defend him? He's cruel! A vicious bully
who brews the little monsters in Slytherin into bigger, nastier creatures. I
can't think of ANYTHING that makes him worth keeping alive! Can you PLEASE
explain to me why you tolerate that utter--"
 "Mister Potter, you should stop talking."
 With a single cold statement, Harry lost all his fury and felt a wash of fear
clearing his senses.
 "You will grant Professor Snape the respect that is due his position," the
Headmaster said, "as a favour to me."
 As favours go, this feels like the Eleventh Commandment. I am not going to
lose control of my functions. I am not going to puke. All the shite should stay
put until this crisis is over, alright? Good.In recovering his wits, Harry
discovered that he had also returned to sitting.
 "Mister Dumbledore," Holly warned, "it might prevent a very dangerous rift
from widening into a volcanic abyssif you were to answer Harry's questions."
 The Headmaster stared at Holly for a moment, then seemed to wilt. "Is it
really that bad?"
 "You don't have the trust to say 'Just trust me,' anymore. You spent that...
or perhaps I stole it from you."
 Professor Dumbledore glared at Holly before turning to address Harry in a
measured tone. "Mister Potter... Harry... you don't truly understand a man
without knowing how he was raised, how he found and lost love--"
 "Don't patronise him!" Holly admonished, "Whether Severus Snape had a hard-
knocked life is irrelevant. Better men and women have died by your action or
inaction, yet this one you've saved. This one you've excused and protected and
apologised for. Tell Harry why."
 "You seem to have some notions on the topic."
 "Yes, but I'm not the one who needs to own up, here. I explain my choices to
Harry, and I get trust out of it. The longer you put this off, the less
traction you'll get out of the confession."
 "I am trying to explain--"
 ".... as if to an eleven-year-old, maybe. Harry's seen one too many deaths to
treat him so contemptuously."
 Professor Dumbledore sat for a minute, then said, "Severus Snape is a key
figure in this struggle. He is brilliant, capable and at times ruthless, but
his allegiance is wholly to our side, I assure you. What's more, it is due to
him that you were able to defeat Voldemort in 1981."
 Harry spat out, "What?"
 "Yeah, I'm with Harry- 'Whaaaaat?'"
 Professor Dumbledore sighed. "I am breaking a promise to tell you this, so
please allow me to tell the whole of it without interruption."
 Harry and Holly shared a look and then agreed.
 Dumbledore looked directly towards Harry, his very expression a plea for
patience. "Severus asked Voldemort to spare your mother. He knew you were to be
killed and he held no affection for James Potter, but Lily was important to
him, so he asked for this small mercy and Voldemort agreed. Now, many witches
have sought to save their children or their families from the evil of others,
but only Lily Potter was in the position to bargain with her life, because
Severus had asked for her to be spared. Voldemort took Lily's life, breaking
his promise to Severus. I believe that it was Lily's desire to give her life in
trade for yours, Harry, which forced Voldemort to push the weight of his
promise to Severus onto you, perhaps even doubling its meaning. By trying to
again violate that vow, his murderous intent was reflected back upon him."
 "So you're saying that it's a good thing that Snape was a trusted Death Eater
and obsessed with my mum," Harry said with some venom, "because Voldemort would
never promise anything to an enemy."
 "I suppose that's true," conceded the Headmaster.
 "Fine. He set up his boss to be screwed over if he didn't get what he wanted.
I still don't understand, sir. Why do you protect him?"
 "Because, Harry, Voldemort's promise to Severus is what gives Lily's sacrifice
such power. If Severus were to die by our hands, or to lose his love for Lily,
that sacrifice might lose its meaning, and therefore its power, entirely. But,
if he dies still believing in it, I am certain the protection would remain.
 "Severus still has an important role to play if we are to succeed in defeating
Voldemort once and for all. He is still trusted in their camp, still has the
inroads to the enemy's plans that we would never be able to access through
anyone else. He is far too valuable in too many ways not to afford him the
leeway to do his work. Very dangerous work, I might add.
 "And so I ask you both to set aside your indignation and your hatred. Let
Severus do his job, as only he can."
 Holly said, "Y'know, even though I agree with you--"
 "You agree?!" Harry was close to losing his mind, he was sure. "He burned you
alive! He's a hateful, murderous, unholy wretch of--"
 Holly snapped a look of anger at him that shocked Harry silent. She said,
"He's rotten- I know. I didn't forget that. You don't get to hang out only with
the angels, Harry. We're moving into big boy decisions, and success depends on
you being able to work with those you hate. That's not even a 'maybe'. Battles
are won by the killers, not the priests, and diplomacy requires talking with
and even making agreements with thieves, goblins, politicians and other
backstabbing scum. And those are just your allies."
 The Headmaster quoted, "...there is no king, be his cause never so spotless,
if it come to the arbitrement of swords, can try it out with all unspotted
soldiers."
 "My favourite Shakespearean quote- Henry V, before the Battle of Agincourt. So
Severus Snape is relevant in two ways," Holly said. She then turned to address
the Headmaster, "But I feel compelled to mention..."
 "Yes?"
 "Snape doesn't help anyone but you, and Lily's protection disappears when
Harry turns seventeen. If Snape isn't being helpful to others by then, we lose
nothing by cutting him loose. In fact once this coming summer is over, his part
in providing the protection is effectively done. With Harry here during the
school terms, Lily's protection isn't required. The difference of a month
between June and July next year just isn't worth putting up with Severus'
poison after 1st September. I'd suggest you warn him that he's got until then
to prove his value to someone other than you."
 Between Holly's threat and the disagreement on Azkaban, the conversation had
come to a halt. Following a minute's silence Holly stood up to leave, prompting
Harry to rise also.
 Dumbledore didn't act like he was insulted or surprised by their decision to
depart, but he said, "Miss Evans, one more thing."
 "Yes, Albus?"
 The Headmaster caught short; perhaps it was the fatigue but Holly's voice had
softened and smoothed out- Dumbledore reacted to it as if she sounded like
someone else he knew. "Miss... Evans may I ask, what are your plans? You aren't
a student here, so it really would be inappropriate for you to remain in the
castle following this meeting."
 "Ah, but I'm a poltergeist, aren't I?" taunted Holly, "Haunting the halls and
being inappropriate is entirely my raison d'etre."
 "I was mistaken on that point. I believe you may be something else entirely."
 Harry said, "What's that, sir?"
 The Headmaster smiled and opened a book on his desk with several colourful
yarns poking out to mark pages. He turned the leather-bound tome around towards
them. Harry was expecting an illustration, but instead it appeared to be a
diagram of some sort, annotated in an odd script.
 "Is that Persian or something?" he asked.
 "This is written in Aramaic. I believe that Miss Evans is a revenant,"
explained the Professor in a professorial tone, "what the Kabbalists who wrote
this book called an Ibbur- a spirit returned to earth to fulfill a quest,
enabled to do so by possessing a voluntary host."
 Holly appeared genuinely surprised at that. "Oh! And since I can't use Harry's
body seeing as it's quite crowded with souls already in there, I made my own."
 "So it would seem. Of course, you might be a Dybbuk," the Headmaster said as
he flipped to the next page, "the opposite of the Ibbur, a demon that attaches
itself to a soul to torture it."
 Holly squinted at the text, muttering, "I believe he already has one of those,
nicknamed 'Little Tom from Scarborough'."
 A loud guffaw escaped from Harry's mouth.
 Holly smiled his way, then said to the Headmaster, "Doesn't this fly in the
face of every text on beasts and magic that suggest no one can return from the
dead?"
 "Thus why beings such as these have been dismissed in the modern literature.
What I believe the Kabbalists mistook was the status of the spirit as having
gone and come back. Much like the ghosts of the castle, these questing spirits
had never truly left."
 "So, if I'm merely a good spirit on a quest, why are you trying to chase me
out of the castle?"
 "I am trying to keep matters here under control. You... are not under
control."
 Holly smiled. "Control is an illusion, my dear Professor, a phantasm that will
lure you into danger with false promises and tantalising visions." She then
shot a coy look at Harry and added, "...like my soul." Her robe crumpled to the
floor, as the woman inside had vanished.
 Harry winced despite his amusement. He said, "I hate to ask this right after
Holly is being... her, but do you think we could have a few more meetings like
this, sir? I feel like I'm finally learning why my life isn't like anyone
else's."
 Albus gave him a tired look. "Yes, Harry. I will see about arranging time to
teach you directly. You've grown up rather faster than I expected."
 As he left the Headmaster's office, Harry had a moment of irritation come over
him.
 Why is he trying to make me feel guilty about exceeding his expectations?
                                    [[[]]]
 Madam Pomfrey cleared both Weasleys to leave her care the next morning. Ginny
had awoken to find her whole body felt sore, but the prospect of further rest
only annoyed her- she needed to run, to jump, to stretch... and to find Holly.
Questions had multiplied in her mind like well-fed rabbits while she'd slept.
 By contrast, Ron was beaming with simple relief at seeing his unmarred skin in
the mirror. When she stood next to him in the reflection, he gave her a once-
over in comparison and scowled. "I'm gettin' you a stick for Christmas."
 "A stick?"
 "Yeah- to beat off all the blokes who'll be after you from now on. Dean's
gonna be unbearable about it. Did you hafta make my job harder?"
 Ginny chuckled. "Isn't that my job as your little sister?"
 "Yeah maybe, but you don't have to shoot for an 'O' in it. You're not so
'little' anymore."
 Ron's teasing felt deliciously normal, and Ginny gave him a one-armed hug for
it.
 They returned to Gryffindor to different receptions. The moment Ron stepped
through the portrait hole, he'd been grabbed in a strangling hug followed by a
face-smashing snog from Lavender Brown. Everyone was hooting and making wolf
whistles when Ginny stepped in.
 Most of noise dropped away in favour of gobsmacked expressions. Dean Thomas
skipped up to her only to stop a pace away.
"Gin! You've... changed!" The boy then fell back into incoherent half-started
expressions.
 Answering his and everyone else's confusion, she said, "It was a growth
spurt."
 "More like a growth burst."
 Angelina walked up to her, then gave her an up and down look. Ginny was still
two inches shorter than her but they now had similar lean but muscular builds.
Her captain said, "You're gonna need to adjust to the change. I'm setting a
practice for us every morning at six. You ready for that?"
 "Are you kidding? I'll be there before you are." She shifted beneath her robes
at the cloth pulling in unwanted ways. "Just need to find a kit that fits."
 Angelina's face softened. "Let's see if I've got some stuff you might use."
                                     [[]]
 Entering the seventh year girls' dorm, Ginny noted that it was similar in
layout but different in decoration. Each girl had replaced the curtains around
her bed with a different red-gold pattern. Two of the bedside tables had been
expanded into vanities with tilting mirrors. There were several different
competing scents of musk and flowers, but unlike her own dorm, Angelina's crew
didn't saturate the walls with clouds of perfume. Everything similar was
distinguished in its subtlety.
 Three years isn't a small leap, so why do I feel much more comfortable here
than in my dorm, or Katie's or Hermione's?
 "Take off your robe," ordered Angelina, and Ginny complied with barely an
afterthought. She finished peering around the room and turned to face her host,
who appeared to be shocked.
 "What's wrong?"
 "Aside from the fact you did that without a hint of a blush? Howabout that
your tummy looks tighter than mine! What've you been doing?"
 "Oh. I'm getting personal training from Harry's tutor. She has me climbing the
walls."
 "Well, the results..."
 Ginny smirked. "See something you like?"
 Angelina's face popped open for the third time in the past hour. "You did not
just come on to me!"
 "I'm just flirting. Don't be offended."
 "Ginny, I sleep next to Alicia, sometimes waking to find her in my bed. I have
no interest, yet she's been trying to hump me for three years. I just-- am I
giving off a vibe or something?"
 Ginny shrugged. "I'm new at this. It just felt natural to banter back. I
wasn't even expecting anything."
 "You want me to talk to Alicia for you? If you start up something, maybe
she'll leave me uncrowded for a while."
 "What I want is your help making my clothes fit, or getting some from you
that'll fit me better. Don't rush me into a second relationship when I just
started my first."
 They spent a few hours sorting through Angelina's armoire and trunk, piecing
together several kits that would serve Ginny's new frame without depending on
sizing charms that might wear off or be cancelled by prank-minded wizards.
Angie's tops were sized for her more substantial chest, but her older ones from
before she'd 'popped out' were a reasonable fit.
 Ginny thanked her with a hug and retreated to her dorm. She had to rearrange
her wardrobe and relabel the hand-me-down clothes so that the house elves would
return them to her closet after a cleaning instead of Angelina's. Though she'd
only been active for a few hours, Ginny then succumbed to a need for rest. Most
of the movements in the last day had proven to be a constant, gnawing pain for
her muscles, as if they were all being stretched for the first time after
months of atrophy. The soreness had worn down her energy and patience so a
quick nap turned into an early bedtime.
 She awoke in the middle of the night, not from feeling rested but because the
soreness had grown too loud to ignore in sleep. Ginny leapt from her bed with
the feeling of fire ants beneath her skin. Noting that the other girls were
hidden behind their curtains, she grabbed her dressing gown and escaped the
dorm to the loo.
 A basic wash-up gave way to windmilling her arms to alleviate the pain. When
the protesting muscles in her top half were down to a dull throb, she switched
to high kicks and standing somersaults until her legs weren't whinging too
loudly.
 She landed from a particularly well-executed run up the wall and flip to the
sound of quiet clapping.
 Holly was leaning by the door, clad in Ginny's old robe. She said,
"Gingersnap, you are--"
 Before Holly could finish her thought, Ginny had rushed up and wrapped her in
her arms.
 "Oh, Merlin, Hols."  The woman gurgled in her arms so she loosened her grip,
allowing Holly to slip down to standing again. Neither of them moved to end
their embrace, but Ginny frowned down at her. "What did you do to me?"
 Holly scoffed. "Love, you were just fine and only a few inches taller than me
when I left you. Some part of you decided to grow into your maturity or
something. I was happier with you in snogging range. Now I'll have to climb up
your chest to get at your lips."
 Ginny muttered in protest, "What chest?"
 Holly made a musical noise.
 A moment later Ginny felt warm wet lips enveloping her right nip through her
cotton pyjama top. Her heart started beating in panic, her whole body clenching
in reaction to the sudden stimulation. Ginny could only gasp from the acute
sensations. Holly continued to taunt, bite and lick through the fabric across
her chest for several minutes before releasing Ginny from her attentions.
 Holly leaned back to look up at her and said, "You may have a bare handful,
but I assure you they're fully functional. Until you have to nurse an infant,
you should be grateful if they stay small and out of your way."
 Ginny's reply was interrupted by a pulse of pain spreading through her limbs.
She groaned.
 "What?"
 "Nothing- I'm sore all over! It got so bad I couldn't sleep."
 Holly cupped her face and gave her a sympathetic nod. "Muscle strain from
sudden growth. I know a salve that'll do you right."
 "Yeah?"
 "Yes. I also know that one of your dorm mates has a jar, and that you blame me
at least a little for this pain. I'd like to make it up to you, by massaging
said salve into your sore, stretched skin."
 Visualizing this made her nervous and excited. She whispered with amazement,
"This is just a ploy to get me naked and give you a reason to fondle me, isn't
it?"
 "Would you be happier if I said, 'yes'?"
 "Yes." Ginny leaned down and kissed her. They returned to her bed, and Holly
proceeded to apply the lotion to Ginny's body, feet to hips then shoulders to
fingertips.
 Much to Ginny's later mortification, the relief from the pain settled in just
as Holly had started on her back, and she fell asleep floating in a tingling
state of bliss.
 When she woke up she could still feel the salve easing the strain in her
muscles. Every single one. She also saw a note on her bedside.
                 'Don't wash it off.
                                 Love, H.'
                                     [[[]]]
 Harry had been as supportive as the rest of the House upon the return of his
friends from their convalescence. Once the hubbub was done, he redirected his
attention to the mountain of homework that had accumulated from his detentions.
Most of the House took one look at the stack on the right side of his chair and
left him to his toil. Hermione was the only one to join him in the corner. For
the first few hours, she had limited her talking to polite responses to his
homework-related questions. Eventually she ran out of future homework worth
doing and became restless.
 Hermione sighed and leaned back in the chair, letting her book close into her
lap. She somewhat non-chalantly said, "Ginny certainly has blossomed."
 Harry looked up from his star charts to give her a quizzical look. After a few
seconds taken to adjust to the new topic, he said, "I thought you'd decided on
wizards after taste-testing this summer."
 "Prat! I was thinking of your interests, not mine."
 "You think I missed noticing that she's hot? I'm a bit near-sighted but the
glasses do work." He turned back to the reference and flipped back a few pages
to check his essay.
 "Yes, but Katie and Lee are now involved and I thought you broke up with Cho."
 Harry didn't look up from his book, though he replied, "Hermione, I would've
had to have gone out with Cho to break up with her. What're you on about?"
 "According to Parvati, who heard it from Padma, Cho's been talking like you've
been sharing secrets with her in not-quite-scandalous broom closet encounters."
 "Why are you even listening to Parvati? I thought you hated gossip."
 "I do, but Lavender's mouth has been otherwise occupied with Ron's, so
Parvati's been begging me to bond over tea and secrets. I refuse to giggle, but
the rest of it is a rather entertaining challenge of deductive reasoning."
 Yeah- because Sherlock Holmes was a big gossip. "So what else is Parvati's
sister saying that Cho's saying?"
 "That you're planning a revolt."
 "Then let them talk. If anyone asks, you haven't ever seen us meet, so you
can't say what we discuss together."
 "That makes it sound like I know that you're meeting with her."
 Harry nodded.
 Hermione was silent for a minute. Harry sensed waves of anger flowing at him
and turned his face to confront them. "What?"
 "What exactly has Holly been teaching you?"
 Harry cackled. "Wouldn't you like to know."
 "I do! That's why I'm asking!"
 "Secrets of the universe. Girl stuff. 'Ways to herd the witless and unman the
unwary'- that's a quote, by the way."
 Hermione jumped from her seat to loom over him, her face flushed and frizzy
curls bouncing with agitated purpose. "Does it not occur to you that she's
teaching you how to use people? Does it not occur to you that this is wrong?!"
 Harry reeled back in surprise at her anger, as did several others in the room.
 "She's... evil!"
 "What would you suggest instead, Hermione?"
 "Keep to yourself. Stop provoking Umbridge. Let Professor Dumbledore handle
her." Hermione huffed and then quieted her voice to say, "We can try the
Defense club again, but do it secretly this time, like I said before."
 Harry considered for a moment, then said, "That sounds like a little kid's way
of handling it- behave yourself, eat your veggies, and only break the rules if
you probably won't be caught doing it. D'you know why I know that Dumbledore
isn't going to handle it?"
 "Why?"
 "Because he hasn't."
 Harry stood to face her, enjoying the few inches of height he had over her to
put her on the defensive, even if it encouraged the whole room to be audience
to their argument.
 "Dumbledore's dealing with bigger things than unhappy kids at his school- this
is a playground compared to his problems. Don't you get it? Umbridge is the
Ministry and we're the magical population. This is OUR school, OUR society. If
we want it to change we have to stand up, and get others to stand up with us."
 Noting that he now had the attention of everyone in the Gryffindor Common
Room, Harry was tempted to sit back down. Instead he made a slow turn, seeing
exactly who was there but not to glare at them. It gave him the time to arrange
his thoughts.
 "Look, everyone, I know you're probably waiting for the teachers, or the Board
of Governors or (Merlin help us) me to stop Umbridge from making Hogwarts her
kingdom. It's not going to happen. We, as a House, as a school, as a society,
have to stand up together and tell her 'no'."
 "How do we do that, Potter?" Cormac said with derision. "She's the High
Inquisitor."
 "So what? You think the other Professors are on her side? She's been harassing
them almost as much as she tortures me. Every decree is an insult to their
authority."
 Katie asked, "So what are you suggesting we do, Harry?"
 "If you hear her lying, call her on it. If she gives you detention, skip it.
If she orders you to change something, act like you can't even hear her. What's
she gonna do- hex us?"
 Seamus said, "She'll have us expelled!"
 Harry answered, "How many students could she chase out of here before the
school would become a ghost town? We all are already in violation of at least
three of those stupid decrees of hers, just by talking right now. If we stand
together, she'll be forced to send us all home. What'll the Ministry and the
Board and your parents think of her 'inquisition' then?"
 Fred smiled and said, "Brilliant. Time to let loose--"
 "No!" Harry said, "The rest of the teachers deserve our respect - more or less
- and if it all goes out of control, people will think we're just a bunch of
noisy kids. As long as the command or the detention comes from a real
professor, you've got to take it. This isn't about us not wanting to obey
rules- it's about Umbridge being a sick, twisted, power-hungry troll, and how
we're not taking it anymore."
 "We can still torment Filch, though, right?" asked Fred.
 "Oh, sure. He's a tool. We're trying to oust Umbridge, not give up all our
fun."
 The laughter was welcome.
 Hermione sat down. Her glare at him, though intense, was hard to pin down
since it didn't carry any anger with it.
 Harry sat back down and gave her a superior look.
 Hermione leaned forward until she could hug him, resting her chin on his
shoulder. She breathed into his ear, "If you keep saying and doing things like
that, I will not be held responsible for my actions." Hermione then licked his
ear before sitting back in her chair to face him with a rather saucy
expression, though her deep blush undermined the confidence she was trying to
convey.
 Harry was struck speechless.
 Girls: still a mystery. Still worth investigating.
                                    [[[]]]
 Harry dropped into his bed that night, wondering if Holly would be visiting
him. An hour later he was nearly asleep when she poked her head between his bed
curtains.
 "Oh, good. You have enough space for me this time."
 He gave her a smiling nod and shuffled to one side, allowing her to clamber in
to lay facing him. They kissed briefly but Harry wasn't feeling exactly
amourous.
 Holly stroked fingers around his face, but made no move to intensify their
activity.
 If I'm not in the mood you aren't either? Not sure how I feel about that.
 Harry whispered, "So, Hermione's gone nuts."
 "In which way?"
 "She was talking to me about Ginny and Cho and Katie and then decided to get
frisky with me. All the while she was reminding me that you're the devil's
daughter."
 "Ah. The poor dear. She's probably thinking you can be swayed from my embrace
by a more personal relationship with another witch. Not finding a worthy
candidate to interest you, she's offering herself. The girl is really devoted
to you."
 "What should I do?"
 Holly smiled. "And here I thought we'd gone over those lessons."
 "She insists that we're never having sex."
 "Harry, she said the same thing to me and later... I changed her mind. Besides
which you two havebeen having sex, she's just been selfish about it. Anyway,
I'm here to talk about something else."
 "What?"
 "Defiance. Insurrection. The Underground Army's training."
 "We are under constant watch! Even my speech in the Common room ended up
common knowledge by dinnertime."
 "Right. So tomorrow, I'll take you to my secret room where no one can find you
if you don't want to be found."
                                     [[]]
 "If you want to host a revolution, you'll need a headquarters. Welcome to the
Room of Requirement."
 "Hang on. This is the place that Dobby calls the Come-and-Go room!"
 Half of the room was taken up by a large waist-high table, though there was
also a reading nook with bookshelves packed full of material. The other half
was more like a gymnasium with padded floor and walls. Between the two was a
foot-thick wall that appeared to be solid brick on the practice side but was
entirely transparent on the opposite, allowing observation without distraction.
 "Wow! This place is fantastic."
 "I know, right? Step outside and I'll show you another function."
 Once they were outside in the hallway, Holly set Harry back to stand against
the opposite wall. She then strode back and forth in front of the place where
the banded oak door had been. This time, the door that appeared was sandstone
or some kind of baked clay. Holly pushed it open and immediately a cloud of
fragrant steam formed in the chilly hallway.
 Harry followed her inside where they traversed a short hall that led to an
open sort of half-amphitheatre ringed with crumbling stone pillars, standing at
the upper edge of what appeared to be a jungle clearing. The stone floor was
intact, and the structure followed a shallow stepped descent to a squared-off
pond. A total of six water-filled pools were set, one at each level, the first
one being entirely circular but the second with an opening like an eye and the
last before the pond an obvious hexagon at least ten feet across. Beyond the
pools and the surrounding stone floors of the shrine were thick vines and trees
that blocked everything with their dense tangle. The sky was filled with fluffy
pink clouds, giving the whole place an otherworldly cast.
 "It's like we're out in some lost temple, somewhere tropical."
 "Yeah, but thankfully there's no bugs nor beasties." Holly swirled her arm
around and her clothes stripped from her body to fold into a pile at her feet.
She then strode over and jumped feet-first into the round pool closest to them,
disrupting the steam where it loitered on the surface.
 Harry gulped and waited. Holly didn't swim up from the pool. He peered into
the wavy surface but there were no lights below- Harry couldn't tell how deep
the pool went, but it was deep enough that Holly couldn't be seen. He side-
stepped around the edge, trying to find an angle where the diffuse light from
beyond the temple ruins might shine beneath the surface. Another anxious minute
passed.
 Holly called from behind him, "Come right in, Harry. The water's perfect.
Hottest at the top."
 Harry whirled around to see that Holly was leaning back at the edge of the
eye-shaped pool, next in line.
 "They connect?"
 "No. I've just been practicing with my powers. Water is my element now, and
self-transfiguration the only reliable magic I have at hand. It's rather funny
to me, as I used to be all about fire and curses. Vanishing and unvanishing is
much easier for me when there's water nearby."
 Harry nodded while staring unabashedly at the rise and drop of Holly's
glistening breasts as they floated at the surface of the pool.
 "Harry... if you want me, come have me. We're all alone here and I think
you've moved past the bashful goofball stage."
 He shambled forward, almost as if under a compulsion. Sadly, this delirium
also made him trip on the raised tiles at the edge of the pool, and he fell
forward into the water, fully-clothed.
 From above him he heard a muffled, "Or prhsss nnot."
 He surfaced, though struggling with the weight of his water-logged robes. He
didn't see Holly, but a moment later he felt her embrace him from behind,
wrapping her arms beneath his to help him stay afloat. Harry was resisting at
first, still jerking and flailing in an attempt to tread water, but he soon
realised that Holly held him firm and buoyant, though her head was bobbing
below the surface.
 He felt Holly shifting her grasp, holding him tight with one arm whilst the
other was busy pulling Harry's heavy robes down his arms. Harry wriggled
carefully to aid the effort and he was soon divested of the robe's weight and
felt much freer.
 Holly retained her grip, though, and was now unbuckling his belt. He tried to
reach down, but his arms were propped above Holly's shoulders and they couldn't
bend that way. She had his trousers down around his knees when she chose to
tilt her face above water.
 "I'm loving the 'breathe only when I feel like it' power. Now, Harry... should
I dive down and take your shoes and socks off?"
 "Is that all you're going to do?"
 "Well, your panic has subsided, so no. I'll be sexually assaulting you next."
 "It's not assault if I cooperate."
 Holly nodded and smiled. "True. Can't call it cooperation if I'm doing all the
work, though."
 She dove down again, though she wasn't holding Harry afloat anymore. He used
his arms and whichever leg Holly wasn't working on to keep treading water. She
somehow loosened his laces and stripped off both shoes and socks. Harry
wondered if all his clothing was going to end up at the bottom of this pool.
 The next evidence of Holly's activity were the hands sliding up his belly from
beneath his shirt. Her hands tickled his ribs and then slid up over his chest,
tweaking his nipples and grasping at his pectorals almost as if he were being
treated like a woman with very small breasts. Harry was already hard, but this
tingle made something deep down in his belly twitch awake.
 He helped her push his shirt and jumper up to his shoulders, taking over to
wrestle the wet fabrics over his head and off of his arms. Holly had clutched
him around the waist to hold him again while his arms were busy. Harry tried to
fling the clothes over to the pool's edge, but they slapped against the tile
and slipped back into the water to float down into the dark depths.
 Holly's warm and strong embrace disappeared along with the feel of her breasts
pressed into his back. He looked around but couldn't see much, so he dove under
the surface. While underwater, his glasses tended to float out of place as he
turned about looking for signs of Holly, so he had to use a hand to realign
them every few seconds.
 Finding no sign of her, he rose back out of the water. Just as he had gathered
another breath, he heard the door to the room grinding open, followed by
voices- in particular, the worst possible voices he could have wanted to hear.
 "As you can see, Professor Snape, there is a room here and one I did not know
could be found at Hogwarts."
 "Madam Umbridge, I have been at this school for most of my life and I have
heard nothing to even suggest such a place existed."
 "Perhaps the castle chose to share some secrets with me that it didn't deem
suitable for... others."
 Harry had floated oh-so-quietly over to the edge of the eye-shaped pool
nearest the door so that he might keep an ear above water and still hide
beneath the lip of the tile edging. He was quite proud of this cleverness, up
until he felt Holly's hands pulling his boxers down his legs.
 He heard Snape musing, "A set of robes is here. I suspect that a student
discovered this secret place and may still be hiding somewhere within. Homenem
Revelio."
 A snap echoed in the space and Harry saw his body glowing with a bright red
aura; he dove under, fast as he could, using the wall of the pool to pull
himself deeper.
 A yard or two down he met Holly looking at his glowing form with obvious
concern. She pushed him further down by the shoulders, and then made her own
body glow with the same nimbus that surrounded Harry. She shot up towards the
surface, while Harry sank deeper in search of his robes, where he knew his wand
was currently tucked into an inside pocket.
                                     [[]]
 Severus Snape was caught by surprise - his person-finding charm had acted
almost like a fishing rod- dipping down into the eye-shaped pool and reeling up
its catch. A woman surfaced with a resounding splash of water, her naked body
arcing backward and an exultant cry escaping her lips. She bobbled down to
floating at shoulder depth and then quirked her head when she caught sight of
the two professors.
 She said, "Are you looking for me?"
 "What is this?" protested the squat, bloated woman, "And who are you?"
 Severus felt frozen in shock, as if he were a recorded telly show set on
pause. Umbridge glared at him and at the woman in the pool in turns.
 "Professor Snape! Who is this and what is she doing here?"
 In the soft light of the room, in the shadow of broken temple walls, a red-
headed woman who had occupied every happy thought in his experience stared back
at Severus Snape whilst surrounded by an aura of red. Her emerald green eyes
squinted at him in recognition, and she gave him a wide smile whilst scrunching
her nose in a very cute, very familiar way.
 "L-lily?" he gasped out.
 Lily's soft, melodious voice tickled his ears, saying, "Is that a date you've
brought in here, Severus, or some failed experiment in making humans
amphibious? How perverse, either way."
 He fell painfully to his knees without uttering another word, as his mouth was
frozen open again.
 Umbridge scoffed and repeated, "Who is this, Professor Snape, and what is she
doing here? UH! No wonder you didn't want me to find this place- you've been
hiding a student for your own indecencies!"
 Anger and a bit of selfishness broke him out of his shock. He snapped his gaze
at Umbridge and said, "Get out."
 "I will not! I am staying right here until I get an expl--"
 A bit of agile wand-work flung the witch out the open door and into the
corridor, followed up with a hasty Stunning charm that nonetheless struck true,
and capped the movement with a last spell which shut and sealed the door.
 When he turned back to look into the eye-shaped pool, no one was there.
Instead, he heard that voice, the one from his fondest dreams, calling up to
him from the large pond edged in stone at the low point of the grotto.
 "Yoo-hoo! Severus, I'm down here."
                                     [[]]
 Harry had struggled with his waning oxygen supply, searching through his robes
almost to the point when he would otherwise need to jet upwards to the surface
in search of air. He drew forth his wand and prepared a Bubble-head charm.
 Except he couldn't speak.
 He wracked his brain, and then had a sudden epiphany- most of the adults he'd
met hadn't spoken their spells; they just cast them. In fact, this would be
exactly the sort of spell one would expect to cast without speaking. He
concentrated, enunciated the incantation in his mind and swept his wand around
his head like he was drawing a halo. A subtle pull traveled the length of his
arm, and he saw a sphere of air swell out of the tip of his wand, enveloping
his head.
 He breathed deep and coughed, happily. He held his wand up and said, "Thank
you."
 If it responded at all he was pretty sure it said, 'Umm... what?'
No politeness required- you must be family. Now, if I can just figure out how
to escape this pool without being caught...
                                     [[]]
 Holly watched Snape as he clambered down the stone steps to a Romanesque bench
set a few yards from the pond's edge. He sat down on the marble as if he needed
its cold, hard structure to assure himself that he wasn't falling into a
dream... or an abyss. "Lily... but you're dead."
 Holly looked at her arms, waving them around at the water's surface. "Am I?
Seem awfully rosy-cheeked and lively for a corpse. Besides, I think you know
that there are special circumstances involved here. I offered my life to
protect my son and he still very much needs that protection. Clearly, my
mission is as yet unaccomplished."
 Snape grimaced.
 "You know my son Harry, don't you Severus?"
 "Yyyeeessss," he whinged.
 "He's a good man, Severus, a good soul. Like mine. If you open up to him, tell
him what you know of me, of us, it could mean so much to him."
 "It's pointless. He's an arrogant, lazy--"
 "Lazy? Clearly you haven't seen his handiwork in my sister's gardens. If by
arrogance you're referring to having the courage of his convictions, well, I
remember some very foolish and brave acts that I did in my youth emboldened by
that sort of arrogance."
 "Lily, you haven't seen how he is. You were different."
 "Why- because I'm a witch? Or is it different because you're seeing the same
acts from a different sort of ghost- one that looks like James? I think you've
been seeing what you expect to see, and not what's there."
 Severus moaned- clearly this wasn't the first time he'd been told this, but it
appeared that this time he felt compelled to listen. He let his head droop.
 Holly stepped up from the pool, sheets of water glistening as they slid off
her skin. She stalked up to the man sitting on the bench with his head in his
hands. When he looked up, he gasped.
 "You never saw me like this before, now did you, Severus?"
 "No."
 "So it can't be a dream." She reached out and cupped his cheek, leaning
forward to kiss him on the forehead. That her wet breasts were directly in
front of him dripping water into a puddle stretching towards his shoes was not
an accident. Holly added, "Behave yourself, Severus."
                                     [[]]
 Harry had to suppress a gag as he watched a tall version of Holly bend her
naked body in front of Snape and give him a little peck on his greasy head.
Once he'd moved past his need to retch, he adjusted his glasses to see if Holly
could see him at the edge of the pool. She did look up and squint in his
direction, then shook her head and gestured for Harry to sink down, in a way
that Snape couldn't have seen as her movement was happening above his bowed
head.
 Harry sank down to eye level, but he just couldn't turn away from watching
Holly, dripping wet and naked, as she pranked Snape in the worst way. His anger
over the form of it he tucked into that Rage pocket which had been growing
quite full of late.
                                     [[]]
 Holly turned away from Snape's puppy-dog gaze, entering the water with careful
steps onto the mossy, submerged marble.
 Severus stood and reached for her, saying, "Don't go!"
 She turned at the last step, the water up to her thighs. "I must. I will be
here, watching over Harry. If he can accept you, perhaps I can appear to you
more often."
 Snape shook his head and spat, "Potter. Of all the--- wait, you are watching
over him; protecting him! He's here, isn't he?!"
 "Severus, of course he is. School is in session. He wouldn't be anywhere but
Hogwarts."
 "I mean HERE! In this room!" The man swirled to fully standing and scrutinized
the landscape, looking for a hint of Harry's whereabouts.
 Holly's shoulders sagged. She took a glance around and found a suitable tool-
a fallen branch balanced at the water's edge. While Snape readied his wand,
Holly strode up out of the pond to stand an arm's length behind the obsessed
potions master. "Severus--"
 "Don't try to deceive me- he's here, and I'll catch him!"
 The man turned to grin in assurance to his lost love, but Holly had reverted
to her shorter, stouter stature. He was looking at the top of her head right as
she swung the log directly into his temple, spinning his body to tumble to the
ground. He landed with a muffled groan but made no motion to get back up.
 "I believe that's a six-run," she announced, resting the branch on her
shoulder like a cricket bat.  Holly then kneeled down and pulled back the hood
of his robe to check his pulse. "Harry! He's out, so get over here. We need to
do damage control."
 Harry yelled, "How the Hell did they find us? I thought you said the room
couldn't be found!"
 "Did you close the door behind you?"
  "I...," Harry then recalled that he'd been so surprised by the change in the
room that he'd just kept walking. "... will be right down."
 Upon summoning his drenched clothes and making his way down to where Holly was
checking on Snape's body, Harry hissed, "What the hell was all that?!"
 Holly looked up at him, bit her lip and then offered, "One small smack for
Holly, one giant leap of faith on your part?"
 "Yeah, I held back. Now tell me what you're doing!"
 "I'm trying to convert this highly accomplished musician to our side."
 "And just how far will you go to do that?"
 Holly stood up to face him. Harry thrust forth her robe to put on. She dressed
in measured movements, then looked up at him.
 "Well?"
 She said, "I'm holding back my first urge, which is to smack you for hinting
that you make my choices about who I touch."
  Harry gave himself a twelve-count. He then said, "There is no one in the
world who deserves you less, than him. I'm asking you; please, never side with
him against me, even as a joke or a scheme."
 Holly said, most solemnly, "I never will."
 "It would kill me."
 "I understand."
 "No joking, Hols. Now, what do we do with him?"
 "We could chat for a few minutes more while he bleeds to death."
 "He's dying?"
 "That depends on you. I can't cast the spells to save him." Holly grasped his
arm and said, "His life is in your hands right now."
 Harry scowled down at the man, noting the growing pool of blood by his head.
Holly turned and stood next to him, hands clasped behind her back. He could
feel her gaze on his face, but she wasn't trying to influence him at all-
merely waiting for him to decide.
 A minute passed.
 Holly cleared her throat and whispered, "In cases like this, making no
decision is effectively a decision so--"
 "Shut up. I'm still thinking."
                                    [[[]]]
 Harry had introduced Holly to Madam Pomfrey as his tutor come to visit.
Together they explained that their tour of the castle had been interrupted when
they'd found the professors collapsed in a hallway. Madam Pomfrey was cordial
enough to make Holly some tea, as she'd told the matron that she wished to wait
and make sure their charges recovered from whatever had ambushed them. Harry
was sent back to his dorm to abide by the standing curfew.
 An hour or so later Snape snapped awake, then winced, no doubt regretting the
sudden movement. He took a moment to assess his current position; propped in a
hospital bed, surrounded by white sheets and pale blue curtains. He then
noticed his visitor.
 "You... hit me!" he seethed.
 "You deserved it," Holly replied. "You were being a twat."
 "You're that psychotic spirit, aren't you? I can't believe I fell for your
deception."
 "You should be more surprised that you fell to my batting skill. I certainly
was."
  "Why should I be surprised that Potter found a way to humiliate me? He lives
for this sort of thing. He and Black no doubt conjured you to taunt--"
 "Harry had nothing to do with my arrival and never wanted you to meet me. When
I cracked your skull open, it was his choice to save your life. You're here
with a Potter-made headache, all right; the kind you should thank him for,
since it means you're still amongst the living."
 "For years I have been defending myself from--"
 "Being a covetous, bullying hypocrite is not a defense; it's a personality
disorder. What did Harry do to you, Severus? Nothing! Your attitude towards him
is equivalent to Pomfrey hating you for being an abusive alcoholic like your
father."
 "I am NOTHING like my father!"
 Holly glared and yet smiled in victory.
 Snape blustered, "But Potter--"
 "Still the pedant, ready to declare your framework for the world as the only
one worth considering. Let me break your stride, peacock. You are not a great
man beset by fools and cowards. Your importance, in fact, is dependent on your
suffering. It requires it."
 "What are you blathering on about?"
 "Do you think, if Lily Evans had never existed, that you would have reached
such a lofty station in life? Would you have become a Professor at the most
famous school of magic in Europe? Isn't your success basically a by-product of
my death?"
"You are nothing like Lily."
Saint Lily, you mean. I need to remember that.
 Holly settled into her chair with legs folded beneath her, curling into the
well-made curves of the furniture. She took care to soften her voice to sound
more like Lily's, and spoke in a tone of reminiscence.
 "All that you know of Lily ended when she was twenty-one. Can you remember
Lily as she was then?" She waited, gazing at the man until he appeared to be
visualising a memory. "Now imagine that she spent the next ten years in a
prisoner-of-war camp. What do you think she would be like? Would she die of
shame and hopelessness?"
 "No... at least she wouldn't martyr herself pointlessly."
 "So she'd grow savvy?"
 "Yes. Her cunning would rise to the surface."
 "And her skills- would she learn to fight without magic, learn to use people
to her advantage by leveraging her beauty... however much was left beneath the
scars."
 "Yes, yes, she would be hard, and brilliant, and decisive, and..." Snape
stopped and opened his eyes wide.
 She smiled behind her teacup. "My name is Holly, now. I am the stunted Amazon
that grew from her principles, hardened by suffering and privation. Lily is
dead but Holly endures, spiny and poisonous; a tough little shrub, but her
fruits are oh-so-pretty."
 "And poisonous as well."
 Holly gave him a wink. She knew scanning his thoughts would be pointless, so
she looked for and found the physical signs of his reaction- deeper breathing,
kept under his conscious control; a flush of the skin on the neck and a
darkening of his white collar where sweat had accrued; the slight shifts in
position prompted by discomfort, due to his skin swelling from excess heat and
perspiration. She gave his body this extended inspection and noted his head
tilting back, ready to defend his mind and exert further discipline over his
body.
 That's got him hooked. Just have to be careful reeling him in.
 "Mister Snape," she said with a bowed head, almost as if embarrassed to admit
something, "I should think you and I are well-suited to cooperate, so long as
you see me as I really am."
 "Perhaps... so long as you give me the respect I am due. You will refer to me
at all times as Professor Snape."
 She looked up and tilted her head back to stare down her nose at him,
mimicking his pompous sneer. "I will not; it's presumptuous. You've never
taught me, and as I just said, you'd have no Professorship without Lily's death
to make you relevant."
 "Yet she did die," he insisted, but a flash of pain crossed his face, as
surprising to him as it was gratifying for her. "Lily died. She's dead."
 "And the last that she knew of you, a Professorship was not in your future. I
am the path not taken by her, here. If you won't act like a decent sort to me,
all you'll get from me is 'Mr. Snape'. Or would you rather I call you something
more vulgar?"
 A little suggestion of spice from your fallen angel, and...
 "I... I would like it if you called me Severus... in private."
 Checkmate. He could be my puppet, but Harry asked for this to stop here. Let's
see just how much we can expect from him in his current state of befuddlement.
 Holly's expression went cold. "The only way you and I will ever again speak in
private, is if you seek to redeem yourself for all the cruelty you've inflicted
upon the innocent students you've terrorized, Mr. Snape."
 "What are you talking about?"
 "I find that your greatest crime here at Hogwarts isn't that you treated Harry
poorly for resembling James- it's that you're shite as a teacher."
 "What do you want from me?"
 "I'd think that would be obvious. I want your job. What isn't obvious is that
I'd like to hire you for a different one."
 "The Headmaster would never allow it."
 "He'd have to, wouldn't he? I mean, it's your life, your decision, after all."
 Snape squinted at her. "What job?"
 "Executioner."
 Snape's pallor shifted from cave-dweller pale to mouldering-corpse white.
Whatever he had been preparing to say had caught in his throat.
 "I'll just let you mull that over, shall I?" Holly stood up, downed the rest
of her tea and then left the hospital wing.
                                     [[]]
 As Harry and Ginny were spending the day in their respective classes, Holly
returned to the Room of Requirement. She had never found a way to be certain
what all of the functions of the room were. Even the house-elves were notably
absent-minded when it came to its history and capabilities. The grotto of seven
pools had been Padma's discovery, the training gymnasium was hers and Hermione
had unearthed the recovery room that had doubled as Holly's apartment when she
was feeling the cold seep into her center.
 Holly's investigations of it in this timeline were tempered by her own
limitations; every request she made of the Room drew from her limited reservoir
of magic, just like any change in her shape or location had. The longer she
stayed in one form and exercised no magical influence, the longer her reserves
held out.
 Of course, the process for replenishing that supply was hardly a burden, but
Holly could only hold so much before continued lovemaking was ineffective. It
was a shallow reservoir, and that was more than she deserved, so she worked
within its limits.
 In defiance of her conservation efforts, the Room had so far only revealed
eight different kinds of utility closet.
 Holly stumbled her way out of a collapsing pile of chamberpots and ended up
colliding with the tallest of Professors who were not named Hagrid.
 "Apologies, Headmaster."
 "No need. I was wondering where that room had wandered off to."
 Holly noted Professor Dumbledore's scowl despite his mild tone. After a
moment's thought, she said in her defence, "We talked politely up until he
stopped acting like an adult."
 "So Severus reported. That doesn't mean you were in the right," said Professor
Dumbledore. He then held up a leather-bound journal. "Did you write this?"
 Taking the book, she paged through it to confirm that it was her writings to
Harry. Must be a replica of a replica. The Appendices are still blank.
 Holly said with deliberate irritation, "How did you get a hold of this?"
 Albus gave her a patient look.
 "Right- no point in asking why since you have it either way. It's all mine,
though some of it was written before I died and just re-written here. Why?"
 "I read it last night. You have some very interesting ideas and a rather
engaging narrative style. Your writing demonstrates a complex if not quite
organised mind. And so, I have a request. I would like to invite you to teach
at Hogwarts."
 It was Holly's turn to give the patient look. "Really."
 "This would give you legitimacy with our allies, and having a sense of your
mindset from this writing, I honestly believe that you would be a valuable
addition to the staff."
 "I accept."
 "There are always... I'm sorry, did you say you accept?"
 "Yup."
 Albus smiled, "This is excellent. Truly, I think Madam Umbridge has run her
course as an educational tool, and we'll need to accelerate--"
 "As Professor of Potions."
 Dumbledore's expression turned cold. "I already have one of those."
 "Laid up in hospital at the moment."
 "I suppose I should thank you for your mercy, if not your patience nor
forgiveness."
 "Thank Harry- he made the decision to save his life."
 "I think I will thank him for that. Nonetheless, Professor Snape's recovery
shouldn't take more than a few days. If I hired you to replace him, what would
I do upon his return?"
 "Shuffle him into Defence. We both know he has insights on the Dark Arts and
would be enthusiastic in teaching the subject."
 "That's not the issue. I need Severus in his current role. If you aren't
willing to teach Defence, I'm afraid the students will need to suffer through
with Dolores for another two terms. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
 "Sure I would. A pressure steamer gets things cooking much faster than a
crockpot. Time is not on our side right now."
 They stared at each other for several minutes, eventually continuing the
argument hosted in Holly's forebrain. Both the silence and their psychic debate
were disrupted when Harry entered the corridor, heralded by the squeak of his
trainers changing direction. He jogged up to them, saying, "Um, what's
happening? Also, why is it happening here, in this corridor where there isn't
anything but a tapestry?"
 Holly replied, "Albus and I are manoeuvering to see which piece will be put
into the hangman's noose known as the Defence Professorship."
 "You're gonna teach? That'd be fantastic! We'll finally have a great Defence
Professor again."
 Albus nudged, "It seems like Mr. Potter is a fan of the notion."
 Holly turned to Harry and said, "I won't teach Defence. There's a curse on the
position- the Headmaster is trying to arrange for my quick expulsion from your
life."
 Harry snapped back in shock. He and the Weasleys had often joked about the
tendency for Defence to be taught by someone new each year, but never had heard
mention of a curse that could actually force that to happen.
 The Headmaster said, "You cannot put a curse on a concept, Miss Evans. I'm
surprised you should be so... superstitious."
 "No, you're not," Holly said, "and trying to make me ashamed of it won't work,
either. As it is, I have the trump card on this one. If you want Umbridge out,
you have to give it to Snape."
 "Snape?!" Harry roared, but Holly held up a hand towards him to silence
further protest.
 "And what is this trump card?" prompted the Headmaster.
 "I can't cast spells," Holly said, "and credentials-wise, I have nothing to
offer as proof that I would be a better candidate than Dolores. If you had
hired me back in August, instead of letting Snape immolate me, it might've
worked. For a mid-year replacement you'll need a proven expert in the subject
in order to oust her, and you know that."
 The Headmaster looked down into his hands. "I can't have Severus take the
position yet. Not until summer at the earliest. I can hire you now as a
substitute, I suppose. Tutor on special topics, Professor Evans."
 "Nah-ah-ah! Harry's tutor Holly Evans is wanted by the Ministry. You may call
me Professor Polter, the geist- er, guest- speaker."
 "Holly Polter?" the Headmaster said.
 "To remind you and Severus of the mistake, Albus. I'll find a suitable
disguise."
 The Headmaster grumbled to indulge her needling, but his face was alit with
mirth. "In the presence of students, Professor Polter, I ask that you address
me with respect."
 "Once I am a Professor here, I will do my utmost to remember that. In the
meantime, shoo. You're interrupting our swimming lesson."
 The Headmaster muttered, "Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"
 Holly leaned on the wall, a door appearing to bleed into shape radiating from
her palm. She then pushed open the door, releasing a gout of warm, wet air.
This turned into fog as it spilled into the chill hallway.
 "Yes. Water sports means something different. We're merely going to be having
sex in a pool."
 Harry skipped past her into the room, ignoring any look the Headmaster might
be aiming at him. Holly followed, turning to close the door and leave
Dumbledore out in the hallway. In the last inch before shutting the door, she
added, "... or seven."
 With the room sealed, she turned to smile at Harry, who was stifling a laugh.
 "Now, where were we yesterday, before we were so rudely interrupted?" Holly
said as she slipped off her robes.
                                    [[[]]]

 
 
Chapter End Notes
     Halfway through the story and I finally got around to explaining the
     title.
***** Orientation *****
Chapter Summary
     The premiere of Professor Polter
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related concepts are owned by someone who
isn't me. The rest of this they wouldn't want to own, so we'll call that stuff
mine.
Holly Polter
                          [[ Chapter : Orientation ]]
 During the busy summer following Riddle's reconstitution, all of the secret
passages out of Hogwarts had been pointed out, marked, protected and trapped by
the staff, from written guidance provided by Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. The
two had claimed, without admitting much, that they had an unusually deep and
thorough knowledge of the castle and grounds. This rare act of forthrightness
on their part now blocked Holly from a simple exit out of the castle to the
village where those selfsame troublemakers now awaited her.
 The weather was sufficiently bitter and windy that Holly didn't think changing
into a bird would be worth the flying. Brooms didn't work any better for her
than wands did. This didn't surprise her, as they operated on similar
principles- layers of enchanted wood wrapped around a filament that had been
well-traveled by magic and, by the usual predictable but inexplicable alignment
of stars, imbued with a basic sentience. These sentiences in this world replied
to all her requests with a distinct 'I'm not listening to you' silence.
 As she hadn't arranged the trip with the Headmaster, the Floo was out (and she
wasn't entirely sure that would work for her, either), and the interesting
thing about her Vanishing act was that it had limitations similar to standard
Apparation. Without the destination-finding capabilities of a wand, Holly could
only go to where she'd already been (and that only if she knew where she was,
relative to it), somewhere she could clearly see, or to get back to Harry. In
this world she'd never been to Hogsmeade. Of course, she could see the trail to
Hogsmeade from any number of windows in the castle towers, but vanishing from
within Hogwarts to a place outside the gates might end up very messy for her,
and for certain would strip away her clothes in the process.
 It was left to her to walk down to the village like a muggle. The trudging
didn't bother her- what felt wrong was doing it without winter clothes. Any
attempt of borrowing a student's cloak or boots was smartly admonished by one
house-elf or another; each insisted that she should not interfere with their
laundry duties. It was a point of pride that clothing was reunited with their
owners in THIS castle.
 Instead, Holly had wrapped herself in two layers of work robes- one each from
Ginny and Harry, as they'd specifically handed her these garments in the past.
The elves knew. So, with Harry's taped-up trainers and those robes covering a
thin blouse and skirt bought when she and Harry had gone shopping in August,
Holly ventured forth to trudge her way through the snow out beyond the castle's
walls and along the lane to Hogsmeade. By the time she was thumping a bare fist
against the door to the half-cottage leased to one David Edge, she was frozen
bluer than a drowned corpse.
 Sirius opened the door with a cordial, "Yes, what can I-- GYAAHH!"
 "F-f-f-f-f," was all that Holly could get out before she lost the capacity to
move.
 Sirius called to Remus and together they lifted Holly and brought her inside.
After a bit of banging and cursing, they set her meat popsicle of a body
against the mantle by the hearth fire. Once her jaw had unfrozen enough for her
teeth to chatter, Sirius gave her sips of hot tea.
 By her fourth mug Holly was sufficiently recovered that she raised the topic
of her visit; "Did you find a disguise for me? And please tell me it's warm."
 Their matching grins induced a shudder having nothing to do with the cold.
 Lupin brought out a battered valise. Opening it on the settee to inspect the
contents, Holly had only one comment polite enough to be voiced; "While I
praise your attention to detail, I'm not going to wear the hair shirt."
                                    [[[]]]
I dread this.
 Of course, Neville had said that to himself before every Potions class over
the last four years. Why should this year be any different?
 First year was horrible. Second year was more horrible because despite
everything, he'd somehow passed the first year final and so Professor Snape
treated him worse. 'I won't accept ignorance or ineptitude as an excuse for
your catastrophes any longer,' he'd said. Neville calculated that the only
reason he made it to third year potions was that the second year exams had been
cancelled. Harry's name was praised by many for that side-effect of those mad
adventures of his. Third year ended with another barely passing grade for
Neville, mostly because of a few tips he'd gotten from the kind Professor
Lupin.
 If fourth year went a bit smoother, it was only because Harry was twice as
much the target for Professor Snape's ire as ever, him being a celebrity again
and all. Neville had convinced himself that it wasn't the concepts in Potions
that were ruining him- it was the execution. Such a good word to describe his
twice-weekly torment. Like approaching execution it was, waiting for each
class.
 And how shall I be suffering for you today, sir? Choking on fumes? Poisoning?
Burned by acids? May I just die from fright this time?
 The students had queued up for class and Neville had begun his calming mantra;
This is the last year. No more Potions. This is the last year.
 Instead of seeing the familiar figure of Professor Snape, a short woman in
black woolen robes and a matching mantle approached. She walked with the tap-
tap-tac, tap-tap-tac of hard soled shoes assisted by a hiking stick tipped with
a metal cleat. Her face was framed by white linen, hiding her hair. The other
oddity to her appearance was a set of green-tinted goggles that reflected the
torchlight, making her eye colour equally unknowable.
 The professor, for who else could she be, opened the door to the Potions room
and gestured with her stick for the students to enter.
 "I am Professor H. E. Polter," she announced once they'd settled into their
seats. "Your usual professor of Potions has been struck ill, so I will be
substituting for the week." She stalked around the front of the room, pausing
to aim those disconcerting lenses directly at each student for a beat before
moving on. "It is my understanding that Professor Snape runs a disciplined
classroom. I expect you to attempt to behave as well or better under my
tutelage. Given that you aren't adults yet, a few lapses are likely.
Nonetheless, break the rules and there will be... consequences."
 The smoky tone of her voice at the end sparked Neville's memory. Seamus must
also have recognised her, as he blurted out, "Oh, my God, you're --"
 "You will NOT," Professor Polter boomed as she whirled around to glare at
Seamus. The boy reeled back in his seat, pursued by the professor who leaned in
until a bare inch separated their noses. She said, "... take the Lord's name in
vain in my presence." The professor then straightened her stance and reverted
to her calm but exacting lecture voice. "This is the only additional rule you
must abide by while in my classroom. Do we understand one another, Mister...?"
 "Finnegan, Madam- I mean Sister- I mean Professor!"
 The professor scowled at him a moment more. "Mister Finnegan, see me after
class," she said with a rather ominous finality. The Slytherin half of the room
tittered.
 Perhaps this wasn't Harry's tutor. Even so, Neville's mood soared at the
prospect of learning Potions from anyone other than Professor Snape.
 "The syllabus says that you are to begin brewing a Befuddlement Draught,"
continued the stout but clear-voiced woman. "Of course, you all will have read
through the instructions in your textbooks, so --"
 Hermione raised her hand. Predictable, really, in a reassuring way.
 Despite having her back turned towards Hermione, the professor stopped short
and said, "You have a question, Miss...?"
 "Granger. I just wanted to point out that Professor Snape doesn't alert us
ahead of time which potion we'll be working on, often jumping around from the
order that they appear in the book. He usually has the instructions written on
the blackboard."
 Professor Polter looked over at the wood-framed slate at the front of the
room- there were only leftover smears of chalk dust to read. She turned back to
the class and said, "I doubt my handwriting would improve on the instructions
in your textbook; page one-hundred-eighty-six. Raise your hand if you've read
through the instructions for today's potion."
 Most of the Slytherins raised their hands. On the Gryffindor side only
Hermione's hand was raised.
 "One point for Gryffindor. Twelve points for Slytherin."
 Hermione protested, "That's not fair!"
 Professor Polter smacked her walking stick across Hermione's worktable as if
swatting a fly, making the startled witch jump in her seat. "Do you usually get
more points than others in this class, Miss Granger?"
 "No, I never get points in Potions."
 "Then you have no reason to be upset by getting more than ever before. See me
after class as well."
 Hermione shrunk back into her seat, face scowling and flushed.
 "Now, before we begin I'd like to draw your attention to the table on page
one-hundred-ninety. This is an index of extraction techniques known as
Gershwin's Index. Can anyone tell me why this would be included in the
description for this potion?"
 Whether Hermione was still fuming or truly did not know, she hadn't raised her
hand. If that wasn't surprising enough, after a minute lacking any other
volunteers, Draco Malfoy actually offered an answer:
 "Er... we use two different methods to prepare the roots. One time it's to
squeeze out juice, the second to dice the remains."
 "Exactly -- three points for Slytherin. The table indicates the quality of the
product produced by its resulting Arithmantic Index. The extracted goo is a
five whereas the drained and diced roots are a four. Can anybody guess why
that's important?"
 Hermione burst out, "Oh! Because the index-four roots interact with the peat,
which is an index-four base material!"
 The professor turned around to face her and then said, "What, are you twelve?
Raise your hand, wait to be called on, then perhaps you'll get credit for your
insight. Two points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger."
 "But --"
 "Three for the right answer, minus five for the outburst."
 The morning went that way. Every time a Gryffindor spoke up, the student was
told to stay after class. By contrast, the Slytherins were given points for
speaking so long as it was related to the class. Zabini whispering to Malfoy
and Parkinson cost them three points, but overall it wasn't too different from
one of Snape's classes, with one exception; Neville wasn't half as nervous.
 At least to begin with.
 He couldn't get the ingredients to line up for dicing. The cauldron flame
wouldn't increase when told, unless it was to take his four previous attempts
as a sum that nearly ignited the cuff of his robes. He noted that his marl
berries looked different than everyone else's, then realised that the text said
mulberries. He remembered reading mulberries when he first went for
ingredients, so why did he think it was marl berries when he was looking at the
jars?
 He was waving aside the excess bile-coloured fumes rising from his cauldron
when Professor Polter dropped a metal lid over it, cutting his brewing short.
She ordered him to douse the flames and put away all his materials. And to stay
after class. Neville imagined waves of disappointment radiating from the stern
professor, and realised that he was the only one who would be yelled at for his
work rather than just for talking out of turn.
 Class ended. The Slytherins left (all quite pleased with themselves), and the
professor closed the door behind them. She then turned to the remaining
Gryffindors and said, "I will say this once. I'm not here to play favorites or
to help Gryffindor win the House Cup. I'm here to teach. Anyone want to guess
what the first lesson was?"
 Harry answered, "We should read about the potion before trying to make it."
 "Exactly," she said while pushing the goggles up onto her forehead, though it
seemed done mostly to rub irritation from her eyes. "Most people don't start a
spell without thinking about what it's supposed to do. Same thing with potions.
Prepare, then execute. Read the whole recipe through until you know how the
process should go. As for knowing which potion is coming up, there's a half-
dozen Slytherins who already knew what was coming, so it can't be that
difficult a secret to uncover."
 Her eyes opened wide and she smiled at them then; the effect transformed her.
She'd morphed from resembling a regular in his gran's Whist club into someone
who was barely past Hogwarts age.
 With a nod she added, "Now, say what's on your minds."
"You're her!" Seamus blurted out, "You're Harry's tutor!"
 The professor blushed but smiled a bit wider. "Yes. For those who haven't met
or heard of me before, I'm Holly Evans. This nun's habit is my disguise, though
I don't imagine it'll fool anyone outside of the Ministry for very long."
 "You're going to Hell for that," muttered an unusually acidic Hermione.
 "I'm going to Hell for much more than this, Miss Granger." The woman then
turned to ask Seamus, "Are you offended by my costume?"
 "At first I was shocked, but now it's just kinky." He earned a couple head
slaps for that, but he was still grinning.
 "As you're an Anglican, Hermione, this is at most disrespectful. Did you
really expect different from me?"
 "No."
 "Then we're good. You lot need to call me Professor Polter if you see me
wearing this kit or carrying the stick, at least. Now, get on. I have others
students to torment after the break."
 Everyone shouldered their bags and headed out of the classroom.
 "Longbottom," the professor called, "a moment more, please."
 Neville dipped his head down, feeling a flush of shame. He stood by his
worktable, no doubt looking like a wilting sunflower. Once they were alone, the
short witch stood before him and tilted her head around until their eyes met.
Her gaze drew him in; eyes larger than most, quite lovely and a bit familiar.
The green in them reminded him of lush leaves after a rain shower.
 "You're not dyslexic nor colourblind," she said, "so something else is getting
in the way of your success here. What do you think it might be?"
 "I get n-nervous," he said.
 "The ingredients don't care if you're nervous," she reassured him. "The
cauldron is indifferent. Everything about potions is about the process. First
this, then that, in this way. You wouldn't fill a hole with water, then add
soil, then add sand, then set the plant on top, now would you?"
 Neville mumbled in agreement.
 "You can trust in the words on the page, at least as a safe starting point.
Follow the instructions. Make hash marks in your book as you complete each
step." His flash of dread over the idea of desecrating a book must have shown,
as she revised her suggestion, "Or rewrite the instructions in your own hand
ahead of time and stick it in the book so that you can read it clearly. This
isn't merely homework; rewriting the instructions will get you familiar with
the steps. Also, ask others to watch your back so that you'll know there's no
cauldron tampering."
 A long moment passed as she stared at him, awaiting something. What could she
possibly want from him? Why would she even be trying? Neville drew upon his
limited courage and said, "It's not worth it- you helping me. I'm just
useless."
 "Mr. Longbottom? Hand me your wand."
 "My wand?"
 "Yes, Mr. Longbottom. You use a wand to control the flames, stir the rod and
separate the ingredients, and my guess is that every swish or flick of yours is
doing something you never intended."
 He held out the wand. Professor Polter took it from him, then wrapped a thick
chamois cloth around it. After a few rubs, she held it up close to her eyes.
 Neville stammered, "I-I'm sorry it's so dirty, I--"
 She then took the wood in both hands and started to bend it in half.
 "Stop!"
 The professor relaxed her hands. "You're right, it should be you who does it."
She then gave the wand back to him, along with an expectant stare.
 "I... I can't break it. This is my FATHER'S WAND!"
 "Yes, Mr. Longbottom, and that is exactly the problem. Your father still lives
and you have never defeated him in a duel. No matter how compatible you might
have been, that wand will never obey you. Never. It is, in its way, your much
older brother. In fact, that wand knows your father much better than you ever
will. It defies your orders so as to humiliate you, just like a bitter big
brother would."
 If words could steal his soul... it felt like those came close.My wand...
hates me?
 The professor walked around to sit at the front desk. She very quickly scribed
out a letter which she then handed to him. "Please read this," she said, the
sound shocking him from his reverie, "then send a copy along to your parent,
guardian... whomever it is that pays for your supplies. Come see me when you
receive a reply. Off you go."
 Neville stumbled out of the room. Halfway back to Gryffindor tower, he noticed
the parchment still clutched in his hand and read it:
 To those for whom it should be a concern,
 Mr. Longbottom's wand was damaged today in a class-related incident entirely
outside of his control. As a wand is an essential piece of school equipment, a
representative of the school will be escorting Mr. Longbottom to London this
Saturday to acquire a replacement. It is my hope that the new one will better
suit his disposition and capabilities, as the damaged one appeared to be openly
resisting his efforts to learn magic. It almost seemed like it wasn't intended
for him.
 If you have any questions about the incident or my recommendations, please
contact me by your preferred method.
                                                                  With Regards,
                                               Associate Professor H. E. Polter
                                                    Hogwarts Potions Department
                                                             9th December, 1995
 But his wand wasn't broken.
 Neville pulled it out and held it up. A rushing sound filled his ears. It was
the first time he'd really listened to his wand when he connected to it, and
the sound was mocking, even bitter.
 A moment later the noise cleared. He looked down into his hands to find the
wand had been broken in half, splinters from the fractured wood nettling the
inside of his fingers. The sound of it snapping came back to him as a memory of
the moment.
(snap)
That's right, you bastard. You had more of him than I ever will, but it's NOT
MY FAULT HE'S GONE!
 The rush of anger came back like a tide, and he gleefully broke the two pieces
into four, the four into eight and then wrestled the fragments apart to strip
out the fibrous core. On his way back through the Gryffindor Common room, he
pitched all the remains into the lit fireplace, not even bothering to watch it
burn. Nonetheless, he could feel a kind of ease settling into his bones with
every crackle and loud pop sputtering behind him.
 Now he just needed to get someone else to duplicate the professor's letter for
him. That parchment meant quite a bit, and he wanted to read it a few more
times. (Not to mention it was the only proof excusing him from wand work for
the rest of the week.)
                                    [[[]]]
 "Though some of you have no doubt already met her," announced the headmaster
at the next morning's staff meeting, "I would like to officially make notice of
the addition of a temporary instructor to cover some scheduling problems." The
headmaster gestured towards Holly, "... Associate Professor H. E. Polter.
Though she is considered a squib, I expect you to treat her with the same
respect due to any professor here at Hogwarts."
 There were a few raised eyebrows, along with a cold stare from Umbridge that
Holly could feel from across the room.
 Dumbledore introduced each of the professors around the table. Holly said
'Good Morning' to them as they greeted her. The last was Professor Umbridge,
who instead asked, "What are your qualifications, Miss Polter?"
 "That would be 'Madam Polter' or 'Professor Polter', Madam Umbridge. I have
knowledge of a wide variety of subjects, thus I will offer my guidance for
nearly any class where the proper professor may be indisposed." She paused,
rolled her eyes (not that most could see them behind her green goggles) and
added, "... except flying. I do not fly. It would be ridiculous."
 Professor Burbage let out a snort but waved off the concern of her fellows
while giving Holly a knowing smile.
 Professor Umbridge said, "This knowledge... includes my subject?"
 "What is it that you teach?"
 "Defence against the Dark Arts."
 "Once I am done with my stint in Potions, you may try me out at your
convenience. I will endeavor to follow your curriculum."
 "As a squib?" Disbelief dripped from Umbridge's mouth.
 Holly stared at her for a long moment, then said, "I find that the most
important qualities for teaching are an understanding of the material, a clear
voice, and patience. Potions suits me best, but I know my spell craft as well.
Are you doing a lot of demonstrations or is your focus on theory?"
 "Theory, of course."
 "Then I don't see how I could do harm to your plans. You might even appreciate
the break to attend to other duties."
 Umbridge's mental calculations kept her silent for the rest of the meeting,
though she did perk up when Professor Babbling asked Professor Polter, "What
does the H. E. stand for?"
 "Heloise Eloise."
                                    [[[]]]
 Harry looked again at the scrap of parchment. The message from Cho had passed
from Padma to her sister before getting to Harry, and he calculated the chance
of this secret meeting still being a secret as about one in twelve.
Nonetheless, he navigated a stealthy course to the arrow-slit corridor instead
of going to dinner that night. He waited five anxious minutes before hearing
Cho's steps clattering up the stairs, along with a whispered, "Sorry, I'm
sorry. Couldn't get the statue open. I looked a bit foolish just standing there
every time someone came up from the dungeons."
 Cho's smile at seeing Harry waiting for her was worth the wait. As she strode
up, she hesitated at arm's length. Harry opened his arms and tilted his head,
earning a welcome hug.
 She stepped back and pulled her book bag around to open it. "I know we haven't
talked much since... before, but I took your challenge seriously, Harry. I am
your ally. I hope this will prove it."
 Nervously, she pulled out a large photo album. He took it and they sat against
the blocked-off window ledge next to each other as he paged through it. Instead
of just pictures, the album had a single photo per page, along with details for
the pictured student by affiliation, blood status, background, and known
talents.
 Cho explained, "The notes written in black ink are fact, whereas the blue ink
is unconfirmed but documented, like blood status or background. Green is
reliable hearsay or deduction."
 Harry flipped through the pages, stopping when he saw his own dossier. The
picture by his name looked to be one of Colin's photos from the end of the last
term following the Tournament- the Harry in the photo starts off appearing
bruised and haunted, staring off the page. It then glares at the camera,
irritated by the flash.
 "Alright, well I can confirm that I was raised by muggles and I really do need
the glasses." The ink on the page turned from green to black. "Oh, brilliant!
What about the red ink?"
 "Stuff written in red is from Marietta."
 "Meaning..."
 "Meaning I don't know how reliable it is. Mari- she doesn't get the
difference. To her 'Pansy is in Slytherin' has the same weight as 'Pansy lets
Draco use her as a footstool'."
 "I just felt sorry for Parkinson for the first time ever," Harry said.
Encouraged by Cho's giggle, he added, "That's only if I can verify that it's
true, so really it won't apply until much later in life, if I'm lucky."
 Cho's laughter sounded like a repeating hiccough, but he felt it was cute in
its way.
 Harry flipped back through the album, stopping to look at Cho's own page. The
witch saw it and groaned in faux-embarrassment.
 "Don't read that..."
 "Hang on- your first name is Chang?"
 She sighed. "No. My parents are Korean and Chinese. Neither would let go of
their family association, so I got both. I'm listed as Cho-Chang. Even other
Asians are confused."
 "Well, then what's your given name?"
 She mumbled something. Harry harassed her for a bit before she confessed,
"Alright, its Seul-ki."
 "'Sulky'? I guess I can see why you'd want to skip it. Does it translate into
anything?"
 "Prudence."
 Harry suppressed a cackle.
 "Just call me Cho! Everyone here does," was her smiling plea.
 Harry started flipping through the book again but Cho interjected her hand to
interrupt his browsing. He looked up to see a nervous smile on her face.
 "I figure this might free up a little of your time?"
 Harry's mind was abuzz, but the idea of having all this new information
freeing up his time seemed preposterous.
 "Time enough for other things?"
 Harry focused on her eyes. Entering her mind happened before Harry had
finished thinking 'What are you on about --'.
 'C'mon, get the hint, get the hint... oh, well, maybe he gets it but doesn't
think I'm good enough... you berk, I'm awesome... please, just kiss me...  too
fast, silly girl! He can just smile... that's all I need right now- a
smile...smile for me, Harry...'
 Never one to bother with half-measures, Harry smiled wide and then leaned
forward to kiss Cho's lips. At first she just opened her mouth partway to let
him tickle the softness with his tongue as he wanted, but then she got excited
and so reverted to her super-suction attack. Harry stumbled backwards against
the wall in trying to loosen her lips' clutch, but that just brought them both
tumbling to the floor, along with the photo album.
 Cho sat back and grumped, "Why do you push me away?"
 "Because kisses shouldn't hurt," Harry replied as they clambered to standing.
"I get that you're enthused, but let me enjoy the moment, alright? It's like I
have to strap you down..."
 Cho's deep blush followed a thought that Harry caught- one which couldn't be
translated into words. His best description would be [drool of brain-melting
desire with a dash of forlorn hope].
 Harry paused, watched as Cho looked anywhere but towards him, and then he
reached a conclusion. He took hold of her wrists and stretched them outward,
using his longer reach to unbalance her. He then charged forward. Cho stumbled
back until pinned against the wall.
 "Harry!? Wh-what are you doing?"
 "I am doing what I think you want. If I'm wrong, you'll have to tell me it's
not cricket. I don't have time to pussyfoot around, playing boyfriend. I want
you, right now, and that's that. Now, grab onto those wall sconces... or
don't."
 He stared into her eyes. Her thought-stream was divided between a hysterical
babble wondering if this was really happening and an anxious calm, awaiting his
next move. He could almost feel her nipples hardening, along with a spark of
potential growing between her hips.
 She curled her fingers around the cold iron sconces.
 He slid his hands up to envelop hers where they had gripped onto the ironwork.
'Arachnitacta,' he whispered into her ear while also sending a pulse through
the wand at his hip. The spell flowed out through his fingers, bonding her
hands in place.
 I'm not sure if I control the sticking effect or if Cho does, but unless she's
experienced the spell before, the effect will be the same.
 Harry watched Cho as she tested her grip on the metal, finding that her hands
were glued in place. She struggled a bit while giving Harry a panicked look,
somewhat betrayed by the yearning in her eyes.
 He pulled out his wand, an action she replied to with an over-acted whimper.
 "You will stay quiet, or I'll have to jinx your tongue in place," he said.
 "Do it, please. I can't keep silent." She shook her black tresses so they
danced around her face, ending with some curtaining one eye as if trying to
hide her shame.
 Harry recalled what little that Holly had written on this topic, then said,
"Do you expect me to make it easy for you? Stay silent because you were told
to!"
 Cho nodded nervously.
 "I want to see what you're hiding beneath these robes."
 Cho looked to each side where her hands were bonded to the wall art and
frowned in confusion.
 Harry stepped close. He drew his wand and raised it up so that she could see
he was pointing it at her, at her throat. She began gulping deep swallows of
air. He smiled wickedly and said, "Allow me. Obfirma yoshi."
 The wand sparked at the tip, grabbing at the fabric of draped robes. Harry
then dragged the tip down Cho's front, following the contours of her robes from
the throat down her collar, poking into the soft skin of one breast, following
it over her nipple, along the undercurve, down her ribs, along her belly. Harry
held it at her waist as he crouched down in front of her, continuing the
sparking trail as it prodded in along her hip, traced the inside of her left
thigh and knee, until he finished his trek at the hem of her robes against her
ankle.
 He stood back up and looked into her eyes. While provocative, the spell hadn't
felt like much more than a warm finger poking her.
 He said, "Hold this," and stuck his wand in her mouth like a horse's bit.
Using both hands he then took hold of the toggle at the collar of her robes at
the point he had started.
 The sound of a zipper pulling open accompanied Harry's second slow trip down
the front of her body, but this time the robes opened. So did her blouse, and
the bra and knickers beneath. All her clothes were connected to that zip and as
Harry pulled it down by inches with a noise like a lazy bumblebee, Cho was
exposed down to the skin by the parting fabrics.
 Once fully unzipped, Harry pushed the clothes open, revealing her golden skin
to the castle air and his hungry eyes.
 "Now that I can see you, all of you, I want to touch you. Do you want that?"
 He stared into her wide open eyes. She made to spit out his wand but he held
up a hand. "Ah, ah. Just nod or shake your head."
 She was crying a little and her whole body shook in nervousness, but after a
moment she sucked his wand back into her bite and nodded.
 Harry reached his own trembling hands forward, sliding beneath the parted
clothes to trail his fingers around her full breasts. Cho moaned as he grasped
and massaged them a bit. He then slid them down her sides, slipping them around
to feel the muscles of her back as they twisted her torso in reaction. One hand
he brought around to stroke down over her bellybutton. Cho's stomach clenched
and quivered in reaction.
 Seeing this and hearing Cho's whine of protest, Harry moved both hands down to
trail the inside of her hip bones, threading fingers to follow the furrow on
either side of her Mons, bracketing the outer lips of her vulva.
 Cho's legs went into tremors.
 Harry leaned in and whispered right into her ear, "Shall I?"
 Between short gasps past his wand still clenched in her teeth, Cho wailed
something like 'eeezz'.
 Harry reached up, drew the wand out her mouth and kissed her. They snogged
madly, though any attempt by Cho to press into the kiss too forcefully was
foiled by Harry's position of control. He leaned back to break the kiss and to
hear the first coherent words Cho was able to make since this had started.
 "Mnnn oh t-touch me, Harry."
  He stroked her nethers, finding the folds of skin slick with fluid.
  She writhed and convulsed against his hand, her words lost to yelps of
fearful joy in sensation. He continued stroking her there, leaning his body
against her hot skin, gripping her arse with one hand to stabilise the rubbing
of the other. Cho thrashed her head back and forth and even stretched forward
to bite at Harry's neck but all she caught was fabric from the collar of his
robes. She held her bite and moaned into his shoulder.
 She contorted her body to rub her breasts against his shirt and nearly lost
her balance trying to wrap a leg around his hips to draw him against her,
possibly so he wouldn't be able to continue his tormenting of her over-
sensitized pussy. He kept strumming her until her whole body was overcome in
quivers.
 Harry slowed his stroking as she lost the energy to struggle. Periodic
twitches of her body gave proof to the attenuation of her climaxes. Harry held
her there as her breathing slowed, not removing his hand from her privates but
not rubbing them, either.
 After a few minutes, Cho leaned her head away from biting on his robes and
said, "You didn't even penetrate me."
 Harry exhaled a laugh. "Something to look forward to, then."
 They both stiffened as they heard the latch on the door at the end of the
corridor being unlocked.
 Harry stepped back and hissed 'Accio'-- his wand leapt into his hand and he
followed up with a swirled spell that tightened Cho's clothing around her body,
re-zipped the separated clothes back into place, and then removed the magic
zipper with a 'ZWIP!'
 A tall, reedy boy wearing Slytherin robes and bearing a prefect's pin stole
into their hallway, turned and blinked in shock. "What're you lot doing here,
then?"
 As Harry was standing opposite Cho and well out of arms reach, he shrugged and
said, "We were practising this charm to make your hands stick fast to things.
Cho wanted to try it out but asked me to guard her in case someone came along
while she couldn't unstick herself."
 "Why you, Potter?"
 "I was available."
 "Cho- what's this rotter done to you?"
 "N-nothing, Monty! It's exactly as Harry says. I... just can't seem to get
myself unstuck."
  The prefect, named Montague, stepped forward to inspect Cho's unyielding grip
on the ironwork. He tried a simple Finite with no effect. Then he tried to pry
Cho's hand away with his own, to a predictable result.
 "I'm... I'm stuck! What the deuce did you jinx these with, Potter?"
 "Not me- it's Cho's spell."
 Cho glared at him while Montague ably got his other hand stuck to the sconce
as well. The prefect started to panic, trying to rip the sconce out of the
wall.
 "Calm down, mate."
 "I'm not your mate, Potter! Get this off of us!"
  "I'll have to cast a spell at you."
 "Fine! Just make it the right one!"
 Harry drew his wand, aimed it at Montague's head and thought Stupefy. A flash
of red struck him and the Slytherin slumped against Cho, much to her dismay.
 Seeing her wriggling against 'Monty', Harry then reached over to tickle her
wrist. She twisted even more, inexorably rubbing against the other boy's
unconscious body.
 "Damnit, Harry! Don't make me get hot because of this git."
 He clasped her wrist, sending the command through her skin to release the
spider-touch effect. Feeling the change, Cho jerked her hands back against her
robes and stepped away from the wall, watching Montague slide slowly down the
wall like a grossly-squished bug.
 "What're we gonna do, Harry?"
 Harry tilted his head, considered a moment, and then cast another spell at the
prefect. "Obliviate."
 "Harry!" Cho pushed his wand away from targeting Montague's head.
 "What? You want him to run us in? Get us expelled?"
 Cho paled at the glare he was giving her. It made her take a moment to
reconsider. She said, “Well, no, but a Memory charm is NEWT level Defence. How
well do you know it?"
 "Well enough."
 "You're ahead of our year then. We're supposed to learn it this year but
Umbridge is completely skipping... everything! Can you teach it to me?"
 Harry smiled. "What makes you think I didn't already teach it to you, but you
just can't remember?"
 She scowled, then smiled, then turned toward the Slytherin prefect slumped
against the wall. "I think I'd rather we practise on someone else instead of
each other."
 "What a wonderful idea." He let his evil smile drop and then confessed, "I've
never actually tried it before, but I've seen it done several times."
                                    [[[]]]
 It was in no way surprising to Ginny that the happiest words she'd heard all
week were 'Miss Weasley, you get a zero for the day and see me after class'.
After all, she'd deliberately sabotaged her own potion at the last step. Ginny
wasn't pleased to be ignored all week and if early morning broom flying
exercises weren't burning the anger out of her, she'd have confronted
'Professor Polter' well before now.
 The moment the door to the potions lab closed she started to speak, but got a
raised hand and gesture to follow before she'd gotten past 'Where have--?'
 Ginny followed the black wool habit shuffling into the potions storeroom. She
closed that door behind her and turned around to find that Holly had pulled off
her hair-enclosing head-thing and pushed the goggles up on her forehead.
 In the murky fairy light, surrounded by jars of foul-smelling animal parts and
dried flora, Ginny looked into Holly's green eyes and fell quiet.
 "I'm sorry, Ginny. Things got complicated very quickly, and I couldn't leave
you a note that might be intercepted."
 "Fine," she replied, "but I want to know everything that's happened since you
left me passed out in bed, covered in lotion."
 Holly reached up and cupped Ginny's chin, aligning their heads until their
eyes locked together.
 "Sift my mind."
 Ginny blushed at her offer. "I... I didn't mean everything--"
 "Sure you did. All you have to do is come and get it."
 Does everything have to be a lesson?
 She heard Holly's voice reply in her head 'Yes... for now'.
 Realising that Holly had already opened a connection between them, Ginny
focused her mental being -- her identity -- at the back of her eyes and then
pushed forward.
 A few thoughts mumbled by, underneath and behind her. Catching one, she felt a
spark of embarrassment to hear that her lips appeared chapped. Ginny left that
thought behind as her reaction to it was taking her back into her own mind.
Right -- disassociation -- I am an observer.
 She found herself drawn towards some memories that seemed quite... flavourful,
but was redirected to an intriguing conversation between the local self, Harry
and Professor Dumbledore. Ginny was quite pleased with how much regard the
headmaster was showing Holly- more than he afforded Harry, though even he
wasn't being ignored. The idea of attacking Azkaban almost shocked her out of
the memory, but she held herself together.
 Still caught in the strange perspective of being Holly in the visited
memories, she traced her way back to the main thoroughfare and went hunting for
those sweet and spicy portions. Several other intriguing scenes with the
headmaster or other teachers attempted to draw her in, but Ginny was adamant-
Holly had opened this door, so she'd enter where she liked, by Merlin! It was
odd that divisions which appeared to be solid would tear away like gossamer as
she pushed through them.
 A strange tableau greeted her. In shadowed candle light she saw Ginny -
herself - lying face down on her bed as her own hands --- Holly's hands -
- kneaded and squeezed oily lotion into the muscles of Ginny's leg. From the
viewpoint, she wriggled her hips together and summoned some fluid that was
leaking from between her thighs to be absorbed back into her skin.
 'I can't be cumming all over Ginny's sheets, now. Back in the bottle.'
 Her giggle in the real world echoed like delighted thunder filling the
headspace.
 Ginny saw a new memory, where Harry stood looking at her, his skin shaded a
bit pink in the diffuse light. He was standing in water, everything above the
surface bare and dripping wet. His pale skin gave hint to wiry muscles beneath,
and the occasional scar only enhanced his predatorial allure. His look of
wanting sent sparks down her spine. He moved towards her in the water and then
the view went black, but Ginny could feel his hands on her breasts, his lips
moving against hers as they gently played tag with their tongues, the game now
narrated in moans.
 Painful sparks burned into her nipples where he'd pinched them and she gasped
into his mouth.
 Ginny could feel warmth seeping into her flesh, making her whole body shudder.
Adjusting to the feeling of lava filling her bones, she slipped her hands down
below the surface to guide Harry's cock between her legs and into her cunt.
In the real world, Ginny felt soft wet lips caress her own and she drove
forward into a deep kiss.
...followed by a sharp pain exploding across her ear.
Shocked out of the moment, Ginny felt painful smacks being applied repeatedly
against her cheek, face, nose and lips.
 Holly had an arm up and was yelling, "Oi! Stop it! Stop it you fanatic!
Gerroff! Ah, for fucking--'
 The swipes doubled in strength.
 A squeaky little voice yelled, "And no potty mouth near students, either! BAD
TEACHER! Bad!"
 "WINKY!" yelled Holly, just as she caught hold of the elf's bamboo switch.
"What are you doing?"
 "You's a perfesser! No kissy! No cussy! No messy! No touchy! No ouchy! No
slouchy!"
 Holly scoffed. "Now you're just making things up."
 Winky started pointing emphatically at everything relevant in sight. "I's will
be watching yous because Winky is a good elf with a great purpose, given by
grey longbeard hisself!"
 "Which is?"
 "Helps Polter Professor be a good teacher, and obeys rules. I's allyways
watching!"
 Ginny saw Holly's rather pained and distressed face and said, "It'll be fine,
Hols. We'll just... stick to tutoring."
 Holly protested, "This was meant to be educational!"
 Winky summoned a second switch into her other hand and smacked Holly in the
nose with it. Holly let go of the first one, but that only provided Winky with
twice the opportunities to swipe at Holly's head.
 Ginny couldn't hold back a grin.
 "Right," Holly declared, "I'll send you some assignments through the study
guide, yah?"
 Ginny agreed and at Holly's insistence left the storeroom. The last thing she
heard as she closed the door was Holly saying, "You and I, Mistress --ow!-
- Winky, need to come to an understanding..."
                                    [[[]]]
 Neville went that Saturday to the Entrance Hall, finding that Professor Polter
was waiting for him accompanied by Harry and -- Millicent Bulstrode?
 "What are you doing here?"
 Bulstrode grunted.
 Professor Polter explained to the group, "Mr. Potter has an errand to run, Mr.
Longbottom and Miss Bulstrode are on similar missions and I'm the escort. We'll
be going by Floo, but I'll be delayed in following."
 Neville asked, "Why?"
 "I need to make a different stop, first. You'll all be flipping between
fireplaces for a few minutes, so I'll see you off and be there soon after. Just
take a table until I get there."
 They each shuffled into the green fire in turn, starting with Harry. At the
other end they stood near the hearth in the Leaky Cauldron. Rather than
appearing from the fireplace, Professor Polter walked in a few minutes later
from the Muggle-side door. She led the way to the alley entrance and Harry
opened the wall for them.
 Neville nudged Harry and muttered, "Is she wearing a different robe?"
 "Uhh... nah. Probably not. What makes you say so?"
 "It's a different colour."
 "Trick of the light, Nev; it's black."
 "I know it's black, but it's a different shade of black."
 "No, it isn't," Harry insisted.
 Millicent mumbled, "Is, too. Cut's different as well."
 Professor Polter brought them all to Ollivanders but stopped outside. She
handed a satchel of coins to Millicent, then said, "You're both to be fitted to
a new wand. If you don't have a wand care kit, pick one out as well. Stay here
until I return."
                                     [[]]
 Once Neville and Millicent had been escorted to Ollivanders, Harry turned to
Holly and asked, "What errand am I here to run?"
 "Making it possible for me to travel here today. I can't Floo."
 "No, I guessed that; what's my official reason?"
 "To 'accidentally' meet with some reporters. You'll go Christmas shopping to
catch their attention, then agree to the interview in a private room. I'll send
the other two back by Floo but stay to act as chaperone. If their questions get
out of hand, I'll call it and send them packing."
 Harry was overcome with a sudden need to know where all the exits and loos
nearby were located. "What should I say? What should I notsay?"
 "Keep to the facts of the events in the graveyard or the Dementor attack-
nothing else is relevant. If they ask you about anything else, just scowl at
them and ask for a realquestion. You control the interview- you are under no
obligation to answer any of their questions at all, and you can answer at any
speed you like. This is a favour you're doing for them. That said, stick to the
facts. Describe and recount but don't draw conclusions. For instance, if the
creature you saw was called Lord or Master --”
 "He called himself Lord Voldemort, several times. He tended to talk in third-
person."
 Holly had been staring into his eyes, holding his hand. A moment later, he
could see the memory playing out in his mind's eye, clear as if he were
watching it happening again, but to someone else. As startling as it was, he
lost hold of the memory and it returned to a muddy sense of recall.
 She whispered, "Mind Arts will serve you well, today."
 "How did you do that?"
 "I just nudged you out of being in the memory. You have to separate yourself
from it to view dispassionately. That's how you extract them for use in a
Pensieve, too. Holding onto one memory for reference takes some concentration-
like reading while balancing on a unicycle. The Pensieve makes it easy to
observe, easy to share. For now though, you'll have to do the balancing act."
 "I'll get you one for Christmas."
 "Oh, if only. It'd be easier to buy Neville from the Longbottoms." Holly then
caught something from the corner of her eye. She craned her neck and said, "Oh,
look, Mr. Potter. I believe that's Xenophilius Lovegood. He publishes the
Quibbler. It's rather unusual to see him in Diagon Alley..."
 Harry muttered, "You called him, didn't you?"
 "Sent Hedwig to him this morning. Penny Clearwater, too. She's working for
Witch Weekly."
 Harry gave her a grump. "Witch Weekly, really?"
 Holly waved a dismissive hand. "Entirely a moment of weakness on my part- I
was just so pleased to know that she's alive here."
                                     [[]]
 Neville followed Millicent into the dusty old wand shop. It looked like it
hadn't been visited since the beginning of school... or of the Fudge
administration. The still air and silence felt imposed by some enchantment.
 "Too long, too long," said the wild-haired proprietor, causing them both to
jump. "For too long, you both have been absent from my shop. I only hope you
can learn better habits with a properly matched wand. It is no small matter,
delaying the onset of building a relationship between a wand and its witch or
wizard. I should think you both will leave here today with new eyes to the
world of magic. Who's first?"
 Neville looked at Millicent, gulped, and then said with a cracked voice,
"Gryffindors charge forward."
 As it happened, Mr. Ollivander only asked for the sake of his one animated
measuring tape. As soon as they both were measured, the man was dropping box
after box in front of them, on occasion having them both try the same wand.
Sometimes he insisted Neville try it first, other times he handed the next wand
to Millicent.
 Neville found his compliment first, but Millicent only had to try four more
wands before a match was found. His was Cherry with unicorn; hers was unicorn
in Larch.
 "Is there any significance to us both getting unicorn cores?"
 "Ah! A valid question," the wandmaker croaked at him, "...but, no. If I would
ascribe any feature to those whose wands have a unicorn core, it is that they
yearn for something. Such is true of most of us, so really, not very relevant
at all."
 They paid and left the shop, both preferring the cold outside to the weird
within.
 Left with little to do but wait, they sat on some barrels outside the
apothecary shop next door. Millicent was swishing and flicking her new wand and
ended up transfiguring some broken wood slats into a crude puppet. She tested
her color-changing charms to turn it deep green with silver highlights.
 Rising to an unspoken challenge, Neville drew his new wand and cobbled
together another puppet, this one a bit rounder and stouter than Millicent's.
They both refined the shape of the puppet limbs until their wooden champion
suited them. A shared glance, a smile, and the two puppets were smacking each
other like seasoned brawlers.
 "How'd you break your wand, anyway?" he asked, hoping to distract her from a
feint his red warrior was trying.
 "I... tripped on it. Didn't really work for me anyway. Used to belong to Great
Aunt Virgy."
 "Was she respected in your family?"
 "Nuh-uh. Most figured she was a squib. Only spells she could do were Banishing
charms. It's the only spell I ever got on the first try."
 The feint had failed and after a flurry of traded blows, Millicent's
marionette succeeded in knocking the red warrior's head off its neck with a
devastating double punch.
 "Oh! It's a knock-out!" Neville conceded and shook her hand for her victory.
He said, "You really have a way with animations, now. What'll they say in
Slytherin when you start outshining Parkinson and Malfoy?"
 Millie's expression turned sour. "Not gonna."
 She stood up and walked away, making strong strides back towards the Leaky
Cauldron.
 "Hey! We're supposed to--”
 Neville thought about following her, but also wanted to obey Professor
Polter's instructions to wait there for her return. He waffled for a minute,
then chose to go after Millicent.
 When he got close to the entrance to the Alley, he saw Millicent and Professor
Polter talking closely in the shadow of a shop awning. Millie was gesturing
sharply but not in the direction of the short professor. After a minute,
Professor Polter pulled something from a pocket that she handed to Millie, who
then bee-lined for the archway out of Diagon Alley.
 Professor Polter noticed him watching and strolled over.
 "Done shopping?"
 "Is she alright?"
 "'She' who, Mr. Longbottom?"
 "Millie- Miss Bulstrode. She seemed upset."
 "Why do you care?"
 Neville glared at her, but the tone of her question wasn't dismissive. "I...
that's ... of course I care. She's a person who looks upset."
 "Was she not a person before today?"
 "No, she was a Slytherin," he spat out in frustration.
 Professor Polter smiled up at him.
 "I-I mean--"
 "I know what you meant. This is not a sin, Neville. Everyone classifies their
relationships by proximity- how close or far away they seem. Up until today,
Millie was too far off, too obscured by her House colours, to be seen for
anything else by you. Or you for her. You know more about her now, so she has
more definition."
 "Yeah. Is she alright?"
 "I can't say. You'd have to ask her. She just Floo'd back to Hogwarts."
 The professor was holding out a small satchel of glittering green powder.
Neville took it and set off to head back to school.
                                    [[[]]]
 The interview went well enough that Holly sent Harry back to the school on his
own. She found the valise left by Winky in the Leaky Cauldron storeroom and
Vanished with it back to David Edge's flat in Hogsmeade. Sirius and Remus were
absent so she left the valise there and walked back up to the castle.
 Professor Umbridge was waiting for her in the Entrance Hall, gripping Harry's
arm.
 "Professor Polter, where have you been?"
 "In Hogsmeade for a pint with a friend. Why?"
 "You took students down to London and then didn't escort them back?"
 "They all spoke into the Floo fire clearly, so I assumed that they would
arrive safely. Was there a mishap?"
 "There was a breach of discipline! This boy isn't permitted to leave the
castle."
 Holly turned to Harry and gave him a look of betrayal. "You said you had
permission!"
 "Professor Polter, you've been duped," the witch crowed with a jiggle in her
jowls. "What excuse did Potter give you for needing this excursion?"
 "He said it was for Christmas shopping," she growled out. "Detention, Potter,
from now until Yule!"
 Harry's jaw dropped.
 Professor Umbridge sidled up next to her and said, "I know he's a filthy,
lying beast of a boy. I can provide a punishment for him, if you prefer."
 "If you have something more arduous than working with the house elves in the
laundry from four A.M. until class-time every day," Professor Polter replied,
"be my guest."
 "Oh, no. I think that will do well. Rather inspired, actually."
 She whispered to the pleased witch, "With my background, inventing punishments
is more than just a hobby."
 They shared evil smiles.
                                    [[[]]]
 Inside the laundry was sweltering from the boiling of man-sized cauldrons and
steam presses. Just outside it was the outdoor well fed from the Black Lake,
where a path through the snow from the door to the well was trod flat by floppy
footprints. Harry was sure that shifting between the extremes was a certain
recipe for catching a cold, but it was detention and he bore through it. If
anything, it gave him a new respect for the little elves that they could heft
the overfull baskets to balance on their heads as they moved between hampers to
cauldron, to presses, and finishing at a folding table.
 His first class of the morning was History of Magic, affording him a welcome
chance to catch up on lost sleep. He was awake enough for Potions to not cause
a catastrophe for Snape's first lesson back from his 'illness'. Following lunch
and Divination, he found a surprise guest lecturer for Defence class -
- Professor Polter, mimicking another pointless lesson while Umbridge watched
on with glee for the first half, leaving at the break to pursue other enter-
torments.
 Professor Polter held him after class for nodding off.
 Harry asked her rather acidly if she'd forgotten about his punishment.
 "No. I saw that you went, dutifully. Well done. Also good on your mates to
bring you plenty of fluids and some breakfast for Binn's class, since you
missed the meal."
 "Why are you doing this to me?"
 "Stress trains the body to use magic to endure. Tomorrow, see if things aren't
seeming a bit easier than they were today."
 "You meant to hurt me?"
 "I'm forging you into a weapon, perhaps even a legend. Revel in these physical
challenges, and your capacity to leverage magic in order to survive them will
grow. You've got to push your boundaries or you'll never know what you could
accomplish."
 "And you have no sympathy for me, I take it?"
 "I have much sympathy, Harry. I understand your suffering. Are you beginning
to understand mine?"
 Harry nodded.
 "I know it's hard- you're suffering through this alone. But if you think about
it, sometimes it's easier if you're not trying to put up a brave front. You can
let yourself be frustrated, angry, morose, or even despairing, but allow it
because you know you can pull yourself together once the suffering is done."
 "Oh, yeah? I wouldn't mind your company in that sweatshop!"
 Holly smiled. "I'll see about getting you a pain companion."
                                      [[]]
 The next morning, though well before dawn, Harry opened the door to the
laundry and was once again hit with a stinging cloud of steam from the boiling
cauldrons. As the starched mists parted, he saw that Holly was there, waiting
for him. She was wearing a cotton nightdress, soaked to the point of
disappearing onto her skin except for a few folds and joins where the cloth
bunched up. Her chin-length deep red hair was held away from her face by a
headband of similar material. Sweat was dripping down her face, along her neck,
trailing out over her collar and following the curve of her breasts until some
accumulated at her nipples. She twisted in place to grab another basket of bed
linens for the steam press -- Harry watched the flecks of sweat leap off her
skin.
 She smiled to see him staring at her. "Do you really think this is gonna make
it easier for you to bear through your shift?"
 "Oh... yeah. Yeah. Uh-huh. Yep."
 A moment later, Harry was jostled from his erotic funk by another wizard
entering the laundry.
 Ron complained, "Merlin, it's hot as a dragon's right nostril up in here. I
can't believe that sodding wench sent me -- WHOA!"
 Holly greeted Harry's best friend with a dainty wave of her fingers. "Hello,
Ronald." To further his mental degradation, she tilted her head down and looked
up at him with doe-like eyes, purring, "Have you been bad, too?"
 Harry turned to Ron, smiled, clapped him on the shoulder, and then said,
"Touch her and I'll kill you."
 "Wha-- yeah. Juss... lookin'. Is all."
 Holly amended, "Winky has you covered there, boys." She pointed to her left,
where the knobby-nosed house elf was giving both wizards a cruel look. She was
holding a horse whip and looked eager to prove her skill with it.
 Another girl entered from the side where the vats of boiling water were
stirred, carrying a full basket that she dropped on the table. She was taller
and leaner than Holly, her long, damp, red hair bound up in a tight plait. She
wore a similar thin cotton frock, steam-stuck to her sharply-toned curves and
contours. Upon noticing the others, she turned and smirked, amber eyes
reflecting an inner light.
 "Like what you see?" Ginny taunted. "I'm afraid you'll have to keep your hands
to yourselves."
 Holly swatted Ginny's arse, inducing a playful yelp and giggle. There was a
loud snap, resulting in Holly yelping as well. She turned an angry eye at the
house elf who was readying her whip again.
 "I'm not a Professor right now," Holly protested.
 Winky replied, "But yous is still here to be being punished."
 Ron whimpered. "I'm so confused."
 "Pretty sure that's the point, Ron," said Harry.
 Knowing the routine, Harry stripped down to his boxers. Ron, in an odd burst
of gentlemanliness, decided to work in his full robes, up until he passed out a
half-hour later. Once revived with some snow to the face from outside, he
stripped down, but tied a sheet several times around his briefs, ending up
looking like a New Year's cherub.
 "This is so wrong," Ron said for the eleventh time. "Gotta keep my cannon
strapped down because of my own sister and your... your... "
 "Tutor."
 "Psh. No tutor I know of would do for me what she's done with you. So wrong."
 "D'you wanna skive off? I'll cover for you." Harry was half hoping Ron would
take him up on the offer.
 Ron smirked at him. "Not a chance. I'll remember this morning fondly for the
rest of my days and nights."
                                    [[[]]]
Harry had learned to shut down dream invasions. He'd learned to watch the sewer
grate to the tunnel connecting him with Riddle, to reflexively disrupt
explosions of emotion from that particular source, to rouse him from sleep if
he detected an assault.
Tonight was a bit different. He'd heard something echoing from the sewer and
went to investigate, only to find himself a passenger in a third headspace. Tom
had opened his mind completely in order to assume command of the snake, so
Harry's wandering mind was allowed to travel as a stowaway.
It was a different style and flavour of experience, acting as silent co-pilot
for a snake body, but when the captain gave orders to attack, Harry wisely
retreated out of the red zone and back to his own mind.
 Harry awoke to voices loudly trying to stay quiet.
"Mister Weasley," insisted Professor McGonagall, "you must gather your things
and come, now."
 "Whuh? But I don't get it. What are you saying happened to Dad?"
 Professor McGonagall hushed him and reiterated, "Your questions can wait, and
I assure you that your brothers and sister want the same ones answered. Come
now!"
 Harry whispered, "He was attacked by a snake, wasn't he?"
 Both Ron and the professor looked at him with shock.
 Professor McGonagall gulped, then said, "You'd best come along as well,
Potter."
 They assembled the Weasleys and Harry in the common room, and soon they were
trekking through the pre-dawn chill of the hallways, up towards the
Headmaster's Office.
 Despite their stealth they were intercepted at the last turn by Professor
Umbridge, dressed in a pink quilt dressing gown and cat-face slippers. She held
her wand aloft with a Lumos aimed as if catching them in a searchlight.
"Professor McGonagall, what is the meaning of this? What are all these children
doing out of bed at this hour?"
 "It is a family matter, Madam Umbridge. As their Head of House, it is my duty
to care for them and in this case, arrange an early return to London."
 "Whatever for?"
 "Madam Umbridge," McGonagall seethed, "when I say it is a family matter, that
is the End of Your Need to Know."
 "Something I should arrange to correct in future," Umbridge replied.
 "If you feel compelled to once more abuse the Ministry's authority in this
way, it'll have to wait. For now, my authority in this is unquestionable."
 "Ah, one thing, Minerva," she said with a giggle, "you may not have noticed,
but Harry Potter is not part of their family. He is alone. An orphan. Surely
even you had read about that. It was in all the papers."
 McGonagall pursed her lips, stared down at the self-satisfied witch and then
nodded. "While I am sure Molly Weasley would argue differently, legally you are
correct. You'll have to wait, Potter."
 "I'll escort him back to Gryffindor Tower for you, dear Minerva."
 With the amount of hatred laced in Professor McGonagall's reply of 'thank
you', not to mention the poisonous looks the Weasleys were sending her way, it
was a wonder that Umbridge would turn her back on them so readily.
 Harry bore through an hour of slowly walking the longest path back to
Gryffindor, the course commentated by Professor Umbridge in an unending stream
of innuendoes about the plight of the Weasleys and how little Harry could do
about them.
                                    [[[]]]
Author's note: Remember when I said I'd probably end up taking this too
seriously? Yeah- I'm there.
***** Purgatory [P1] *****
Chapter Summary
     Plenty of action, just not the naked kind.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 
[[ Chapter: Purgatory P.1 ]]
===============================================================================
Once returned to the seclusion of his dorm room, Harry contacted Sirius via the
mirror. It took several tries before he answered, but the delay was
understandable- he'd been receiving the Weasleys at Grimmauld Place, where they
now waited for word on their father's condition. For the rest of the day, Harry
anticipated those brief moments of privacy when he could contact Sirius or
Moony, only to find out nothing had changed. Arthur's life was still in peril.
Classes ended for the term and Harry accompanied Hermione and the Patil twins
in a carriage to Hogsmeade station, but rather than take the Express he bid
them goodbye and trod a path through the snow back into the village. Entering
the flat rented to David Edge, he called out, but no one replied. He made a
beeline for the fireplace.
An animated photo caught his eye, as it was sitting on the fireplace mantle
beside the bowl of Floo powder. It was a picture of his parents at their
wedding, being congratulated by Sirius and Remus. His father grinned at him
from the picture- a man confident in his self and his destiny. His mother
laughed like a woman so brimming with joy that she had to share it.
It was disturbing, in a way. He could see himself in his father, though his own
face was more gaunt and paler. More sober, if anything. He could see aspects of
Holly in his mother. He tried to imagine the two of them in those roles in the
picture, but his vision of Holly in Lily's wedding dress tossed the bouquet to
the ground, kicked off the white heels as if they were shackles, and then
glared up at him as if to say, 'Get real. Enemies are coming for us'.
A quick spin through the Floo and he tumbled out of the fireplace into the
kitchen at Grimmauld Place. Six Weasleys all rose up from the table in
reaction. They saw Harry and sat back down in disappointment. The exception was
Molly who pushed forward, gave him a hug and said, "So good to see you, dear.
Are you hungry?" He shook his head, so she patted his shoulder and then
returned to her seat at the table.
Remus gave him a muted greeting and led him out of the kitchen and upstairs to
stow his cloak and rucksack.
"Arthur's not healing, and now he's taken a turn for the worse," Remus
explained as they climbed the creaking stairs. "Everyone down in the kitchen is
waiting on news from Charlie at St. Mungo's."
"Charlie?" Harry said, "Didn't even know he was back in country. Why is he
there? Why not Mrs. Weasley?"
Remus smiled as they stopped at Harry and Ron's room. He replied, "They threw
Molly out for arguing with the healers. They're used to the fussing of family
members, and putting someone like Molly on a half-day Floo-blocking jinx is
standard practice."
"So, now what?"
"Now," said Sirius as he appeared at the top of the stairs, "we find ways to
waste time until the axe is lifted from Arthur's neck... or it falls. Drink?"
He offered Harry a snifter quarter-full of whatever was sloshing in the dark
bottle held loosely in his other hand.
"I dunno. The last thing they'd want to hear is us being jolly because we're in
our cups." After a bit of thinking, he asked, "What would a good leader do?"
Remus said, "A good leader would give his troops some hard work to do that
needs doing." Sirius shrugged and nodded in agreement.
The mission to Azkaban loomed again in Harry's mind, but none of the plans
they'd been discussing involved having the Weasleys tear into the prison like
rabid Highlanders. He set it aside, unable to focus into a strategic mindset.
Reading would be a waste of time, and the last thing Harry wanted would be to
ask Mrs. Weasley to cook something when her every stray thought was rightly
focused on a hidden building several miles away. Even if she wasn't insulted,
he'd probably end up with a bowl of soup de socks. And none of it would help
heal Arthur Weasley.
"On second thought, hand that here."
Remus looked ready to protest but then said, "Pour me a glass as well,
Padfoot."
They followed Sirius up the stairs to his room where more round-bottomed
glasses awaited them. Sirius gave each of them a generous portion.
"Sniff, savour, then sample," said Sirius.
Harry sniffed from the glass but couldn't tell what he should be evaluating. It
smelled like liquor. He took a gulp - and then choked as the liquid ripped all
the moisture from his throat. A burp forced its way out of his gut, turning
into a puff of flame in the open air. Heat passed through his body from his
center out across every vein and artery, making all his scars bristle in
reaction. He felt the inscription on his hand throb in protest, but then it
went silent. The other aches had disappeared as well.
He croaked out, "I like it."
Sirius grinned. "My brothers in spirits."
Ron came up a few hours later bearing a plate of sandwiches which he bartered
for inclusion in their drinking. The twins found them soon after and Ginny
joined in the quiet revelries just as Sirius was opening another bottle. They
all ended up falling asleep there in Sirius' room.
 
===============================================================================
Harry awoke in the middle of the night from a queer feeling of excitement that
had no cause. Unable to fall back asleep, he ventured down one floor to use the
loo. On his way out he heard a muted sniffling coming from the room at the end
of the hall - Tonks' room. He drew close so as not to wake others, and
whispered through the door, "Hey, Tonks? Alright in there?"
Following a shuffle of clothing, a thump, and a grunt of 'ow', the woman opened
the door. She looked exactly as Harry would have predicted; wilted. He just
didn't know why.
Tonks murmured, "What're you doin' up?"
"Kreacher patrol," Harry said. "He's getting on in years, so I offered to creep
around and mutter at people for him."
Tonks sobbed out a laugh. "You're funny."
"Just a little- I learned from the Weasleys. They're usually the funny ones."
Her face fell at that and she turned away, returning to the tatty old reading
chair to resume her wallowing.
Harry followed her in and closed the door. He sat across from her on the
ottoman. "Why are you so upset?"
"Oh, it's- it's my fault!" she blurted. She emphasized her fraying nerves by
the way her forearms flew apart once she'd got her fingers untangled. "I
swapped duties with Arthur. If it weren't for me he'd be alright."
"And instead, you'd be dying from a snake bite. How is that better?"
She scowled at that. "I can handle meself better than Mr. Weasley, Harry. I
woulda given that bloody snake a spell or two."
"Or you wouldn't have, because it caught you by surprise and you'd be in the
same boat as Mr. Weasley."
"Arthur was tired, Harry! He'd been running around for his office before he
took his shift. I wouldn't have been-"
"Aren't you, like, perpetually twitchy or something? You told me before that
stakeouts make you nutty."
"I'd have done PAPERWORK!"
"Oh, and that'd keep you alert, would it?"
They kept up like this for the better part of an hour, Tonks' what-ifs becoming
more ridiculous as they went. Finally she conceded. She gave Harry a warm hug
for talking her away from her miseries, then kicked him out of her room.
After another stop in the loo, Harry headed to the main floor hoping to rustle
up something (without alcohol) to drink. Though awake, he was quite exhausted
from the effects of the firewhisky, and thus was caught flat-footed as he
rounded the last bannister pole and collided with someone in black wool robes.
He caught himself by clutching to the post.
"Watch yourself, Potter," said the obstacle.
At the sound of that voice, his mask of command snapped into place. He
straightened his stance, noting that he was now staring evenly into the man's
soulless black eyes. "Professor Snape."
"Brilliant," the acerbic man said. "Five years of education hasn't gone to
waste- you can recognise your Potions Master."
"Excuse me." Harry gestured towards the hallway to the kitchen, holding his
hand out to indicate his intended path. Snape sniffed, then stepped aside.
Harry took a step to stride past him.
"Oh, Potter, I hope-"
Harry put a quick end to whatever the smarmy bastard was going to say. The
feeling of Harry's elbow smashing into - and through - the man's beak-like nose
was the best Christmas gift he could have wanted. He'd just needed the extra
step to get the angle right and ensure a strong hit.
Snape was knocked to the floor, blood spattering across the carpet from the
man's broken nose. A black wand fell out of his black robes, rolling along the
runner to stop at the foot of the stairs. Harry hopped away from the staircase,
landing on the wooden instrument with the second satisfying snap of the night.
He leaned down next to where Snape was clambering to his knees and said, "The
last time you and I were in this house, you interrupted me."
Snape was coughing. His curtains of long greasy hair hid whatever expression he
had.
"So let me finish what I was trying to say, then. I will kill you, one day, for
what you did to Holly."
He seethed, "For what I did? That thing wasn't - and isn't - a real witch!"
"She's a person. It doesn't matter what she's made of; I love her and you
burned her until she nearly died. I don't care what excuse you think you had-
no one had condemned her to torture or death, and yet that's what you chose to
do. You saw someone who looked like my mum and was involved with me, and that's
why you burned her."
Snape drew a kerchief from his robes to staunch the flow of blood from his
face, any intended reply deferred while he winced in pain.
"I'm sorry if your childhood was awful," Harry continued, "It sucks - for you -
that my mum said no to you and yes to my dad, but you have NO RIGHT to ruin my
life, or Neville's, or anyone else's, just because you can't get over it."
"You self-important imbecile. You have no idea -"
"What the Hell are you doing here, anyway?"
From behind them a familiar voice answered, "I brought him."
Harry turned around to where Holly stood in her black habit. She wasn't wearing
the head coverings, leaving her wild red hair exposed. It gave him the brief
impression of her as a lit black candle, which only reinforced his memory of
how she had been tormented the last time Snape had been in this house. "I said
he wasn't allowed here."
"I didn't have sufficient mass at the time to get that memorandum, Harry, and
it wouldn't change my decision to bring him here if I had." Holly softened her
voice and said, "I'm sorry, but we need to talk together, right now."
Snape pulled a different wand from his robes to fix the break in his nose. It
righted itself with a muffled snap. A second gesture with the wand wiped all
the blood from his face. "You can forget the whole venture, Professor Polter,"
Snape said as he stood up, "I have no interest in anything this misbegotten -"
"Aw, did Sevvy get a boo-boo?" she said (in a passable mimicry of Betty Boop).
"He assaulted me!"
Holly cut off his rising voice with an erect finger to her lips. She then
hissed, "So did I, and we both told you why you'd earned it. If Harry was a bit
juvenile just now I'd say he has the right of it, since he doesn't happen to be
an adult just yet. Unwarranted acts of aggression are to be expected, and he
actually had cause. As Harry pointed out, you don't have that excuse. Now, get
in the library before you wake the portraits, will you?"
Harry trooped in first, followed by Snape.
Holly turned once inside to slide the door shut. "And the next time I hear you
refer to me as 'that thing', I'm going to make you suffer for it."
While Snape chuntered something about 'already suffering', they collected in
the seats near the hearth where the fire had burned down to coals.
Grudgingly, Snape related the essence of the situation; "Arthur Weasley was
attacked in the Ministry while he was guarding a certain room, but his presence
diverted the Dark Lord from infiltrating that room. This has frustrated him.
Lacking access to any advisors with enough clearance to know how to circumvent
this, he now must retrieve one of his loyal servants from prison; former
Unspeakable Augustus Rookwood. By all estimates, this will happen in the next
day."
Harry said, "Right before Christmas? Talk about re-certifying your Fraternity
of Evil membership card -"
"It is thus necessary to act now," said Snape, "if you intend to act at all.
The Dark Lord isn't one to take half-measures. He needs Rookwood but, now that
he's committed to the endeavour, he'll liberate all the Inner Circle prisoners
from Azkaban in one move. I'm sure of it. So tell me, Potter, do you have it in
you to truly act on your bravado, or does your courage fade if you're not just
bullying your allies like your father did?"
Harry squinted at him. "I'm not - when did my father - wait, what are we
doing?"
Snape made his 'I'm dealing with an imbecile' groan.
Holly said, "The mission, if you're ready to commit to it, would be to go to
Azkaban ahead of him... and kill his followers before he can free them."
She was staring into his eyes. Harry felt his scalp prickle.
'This is a critical moment. Take your time before you decide.'
Harry glared back.
Was it the orneriness that came with the hangover? Perhaps the endless hours of
feeling helpless awaiting news on Mr. Weasley was preying on him, driving him
to take action, whatever the action might be. Or maybe it was the mad thrill of
being offered a chance to jump into the deep end of adulthood? Harry's decision
was made long before he could decide on his true justification for making it.
"I'm ready," he said. A calm settled in, and the last vestiges of his hangover
burned away.
He then asked, "Why is Snape still involved? He told you what he knows.
Shouldn't the rest be a secret so he won't be in a position to blab about it?"
Snape bit back another cutting remark and instead looked at Harry as if
distrusting his senses.
"You shouldn't cast the spells," Holly answered, "but you can accompany another
to do the killing. I cannot go. Severus is willing-"
"Waswilling, up until this infant struck me."
Holly grabbed Snape by the arm and squeezed until her nails digging in caused
him to wince. She said, "You're still here, so stop wasting time trying to
annoy everyone." She shoved him out of her grip and then turned back to Harry.
"He's the best man for the job. He knows magic, he knows the targets by name
and some by face, and he knows how to kill."
"There isn't anyone else?"
Holly thought for a moment. "Mad-eye is the next best bet, but I don't think
he'll be a quick convert to the idea, what with it being illegal, arguably
immoral and involve breaking into a Ministry-run fortress. It's not like he's
on our side. He works for Albus. Sirius might be willing but I'm not so sure
about the able- I don't know if he's ever killed anyone and even if he has, I
doubt he'd want you to be watching him do it, eitherwise."
Snape said, "They both have one advantage that I cannot provide. I've never
been to Azkaban. I was never convicted of anything."
Holly turned to glare at Snape. "How are you going to Apparate there, then?"
"That's your problem. I'm here to fulfill a debt. Nothing else."
She slumped back in her seat. "Well, there's a fine mess for us. Ready to go,
but can't reach the target."
Harry smiled. "I think I may have this part covered."
 
===============================================================================
Tonks sat in the library between the most unlikely collection of people who
were waiting on her reply to a most unlikely question. It was like the set up
for a bad joke; 'A specky boy-hero, the slimy git who hates him and a
degenerate poltergeist posing as a nun bring a metamorph cop to a bar and...'
She had been waiting for the punchline, but Harry's resolute face told her this
was for real. She gobbed air for a moment, then said, "You want me to help you
break into Azkaban... so that you can murder the prisoners? What makes you
think I'd say 'yes'? I mean, it's my job to stop you from doing this! By every
right, I should arrest the lot of you right now."
"We just need you to lead us there," Harry said. "You wouldn't even be breaking
the law."
"But, Harry-"
"Do you believe Riddle is back?" he challenged.
"Well, yes."
"And do you agree that it's likely that he will break out his Death Eaters, and
that they'll join him to commit the same crimes as before?"
Tonks looked down at her hands in her lap. She said, "Yeah. Prolly worse than
ever, what with being half-more insane from a dozen years in that literal pit
of despair."
"Then you should agree that this plan is the right thing to do," Harry
insisted, "that by doing this we may save lives."
She wrung her hands together and pleaded, "But, isn't there another way-?"
"No! I don't want to hear any more protest on this. This is the plan." Harry
grabbed her forearm. "You promised me that you'd support me, support the
Underground Army; this is when and how I need you, Tonks, more than ever. I
remember when I asked for your support, you said it twice. That stuck with me-
you weren't just saying 'Me, too'- by being different, you were telling me to
remember that I had your support, in specific. I know that you meant what you
said, so help us now. Be, now, who you promised to be, then."
Tonks turned away to consider.
In the pause, he took note that the other two people in the room hadn't spoken
for a bit. Snape was scowling, which told him nothing. Holly was trying without
success to hold back a wide smile, covering her reaction with a hand over her
mouth.
Harry felt a similar pride, but he held his expression true.
 
===============================================================================
Tonks agreed to do quite a bit more than bring them there. As they worked out
their plan, she provided essential information on how to enter the fortress and
also had contacted another Auror, asking to swap shifts '... so that I can earn
quick cash for the holidays'. Azkaban duty hours paid twice as much as any
other job in the Aurors, so this wasn't unheard of.
"Anything you cast there is detected at the central station," she warned. "If
you conjure up so much as a kerchief, they check on it."
Holly countered this by saying, "In my time there, I was able to get away with
a few wandless tricks. Also, I think that you may be able to escape detection
if whatever you cast is done beneath your Cloak, Harry."
Professor Snape said, "Does Potter know any wandless magic?"
Holly countered, "Why not ask Potter? He's sitting right there."
Rather than wait for Snape to act politely, Harry answered, "Occlumency, and a
bit of Summoning and Banishing. Do you know any?"
"More than you," the git replied. "In all cases, whenever you wonder what I
know about something, the answer will be 'more than you'."
Somewhere in the back of his head, Harry felt reassured by that.
If he was being considerate to me, I'd be really worried.
 
===============================================================================
Tonks Apparated them to a boat landing on a rocky shoreline, with Snape
crouched together with Harry beneath the Cloak of Invisibility. She led them
onto the special Ministry skiff and then cast off into the rough seas, the
boat's animated oars knocking wood against water to project them along the way,
out to what looked like a black claw stabbing out of the sea in the distance.
Their craft wound the path through the choppy seas, but seemed hardly affected
by them. It was impressive how the enchanted boat glided along, handed from the
care of one swell to another, making it seem as if the storm might only be an
illusion- a cold and wet one, but not able to toss or unbalance them.
Answering the unasked question, Tonks said, "We're very careful about our
prisoner transfers."
As they approached, Harry could see that the prison was not just one bent tower
but three of them, of different heights but all connected to a stout central
keep. The outer wall rose along the coastline of the island, leaving only a
little rocky ground between the fortification and the churning sea.
The cold of the North Sea was enhanced by the presence of scores of Dementors
gliding around the towers. Harry spent most of the journey wresting his mind
into a fully defensive state. When he was done, the mask was strapped on tight.
He could still feel the heat-sapping aura of the Dementors but their terrifying
despair was left outside. He saw Snape following a similar process, twitches of
anxiety or doubt being smoothed out until only business-like indifference was
left to run things.
Once on the island, Tonks entered the gatehouse leading into the keep to report
for duty. The two wizards stalked away from the craft to navigate the narrows
around the curtain wall until they found a few square yards of stable footing.
They had one critical test to pass before their mission could continue. They
were safely inside what Tonks called the 'Charm-Cancelling Anti-Spell, -Magic,
or -Charm... charm'. This defensive shell which projected a few yards beyond
the curtain wall would supposedly cancel any active spell or nullify
enchantments that it encountered like brooms in flight, except for things
traveling through the Auror-controlled gatehouse. Despite this, the charm
hadn't affected his Cloak of Invisibility, for which he was grateful. Harry had
no idea how to turn it back on if it had been shut off somehow. Now they had to
make sure the Cloak would shroud them from detection when casting spells.
They shared a look. Snape drew out a wand and twisted it in the movement Harry
recognised as an Imperturbable charm. He felt the bubble of isolation pop into
place.
No alarm sounded. No guard appeared.
Snape said, "This is a very interesting cloak, Potter. Where did you buy it?"
"I didn't buy it- it was my father's."
"That explains quite a bit- and yet suggests other questions as well."
"You'll have to ask someone else, then, because that's about the sum total of
what I know about it."
Harry took a moment to activate the enchantments that Hermione had added to his
glasses in recent days. The darkness turned green and he could see the shape of
the professor before him as a lit outline, radiating heat from his face and
hands. Following some experimentation, he was happy to discover that his Cloak
blocked even this charmed vision effect from the outside. No one using similar
charms would be able to see them.
They sat and waited. At first Harry and Snape each tried very hard to imagine
they were alone under the Cloak, but eventually the effort to maintain a mental
defense became tedious, and they got to talking. To keep their minds in check,
they avoided any topic aside from their immediate circumstances; the bone-
freezing cold, the dagger-like sleeted wind, the constant noise of the surf,
and what they were there to do. With some prodding, Snape gave Harry a rundown
on the names and traits of their targets. Snape was going through what he knew
of the Lestrange family when they heard a heavy thunk into the ground nearby.
It was an arrow with a rope attached that trailed up the rain-slick stone walls
to a parapet.
Both men took hold of the rope. Harry felt a familiar bond sticking his hands
in place. The rope drew taut and then pulled them up slowly along the sheer
side of the prison. A few curious Dementors glided past them, perhaps confused
by the moving absence of emotions, but their attentions soon wandered. Harry
and Snape continued to rise, otherwise undetected.
At the summit they risked leaving the shelter of the Cloak to clamber over the
stone battlement onto a walkway. There was no sign of Tonks- just the antique
crossbow from the Black armory that was the source of their reel of rope,
anchored with metal braces spanning an interior doorway. Harry dislodged the
braces and reeled in the rope, packing all the parts including the crosspiece
into the magically-expanded stock of the crossbow. Once the evidence of their
entry was cleared, they returned to crouching beneath the Cloak.
Snape re-cast the Imperturbable. Harry then asked him, "Which way do we go?"
Tonks' one shortcoming in the preparation was not having access to a map
showing which prisoners were being kept where. The most she could report was
that 'the tall tower usually holds the worst sort'. Snape took a look around,
then declared, "We go up. No doubt the most dangerous inmates are kept in the
highest rooms, so that the Dementors can readily feed on them. We'll have to
check on whomever we find along the way to confirm this."
The interior of the tower was lit by torches in wall sconces, one placed
opposite the door for each cell. It was a cruel temptation of light and heat
too far away to provide much of either. Yet still, most inmates were curled
near their cell doors and furthest away from the slit window to the stormy
outside. Yard-long spikes projecting in from the dense ironwork doors kept them
from getting too close, but most prisoners slept or sat facing their particular
torch.
The cells weren't labeled with the prisoner's names- instead they had a placard
mounted outside with the prisoner's designation. The pattern indicated what
year and month they were first imprisoned (ever), so they disregarded any cell
with designation more recent than 1981. The first actual Death Eater they found
was a wretched pile of skin and bones with stringy blond hair and beard. Once
Snape had gotten a good look at him, he turned to Harry and said, "That's
Gibbon."
They sat crouched for a few moments, watching the man breathe. "Well, go
ahead," said Harry.
"Potter, your Cloak may hide spells cast beneath it, but spells that go beyond
it will no doubt be detectable."
"So how are you going to kill him?"
"Why should I be the one? This is your mission."
Harry's mask bit back the anger before he felt it, but he still felt that
expressing his irritation would be useful. He said, "You're here to
participate, not just make side comments! This is your job, executioner."
"I will not be the only one with bloody hands after this. If I must kill, so
should you."
"Fine. We'll trade off." It was a logical conclusion, so in his current state
of mind Harry had agreed without considering how he might feel about it later
on. "You're still going first."
"Why?"
"It's proper teaching technique; first, you demonstrate for the student. I know
the concept is a bit foreign to you -"
"Shut up and hand me the crossbow."
They both rose to change position and Harry had to pull out and reassemble the
weapon. In their shuffling beneath the Cloak, a paper-wrapped candy fell out of
Harry's pocket.
Snape noticed it first and said, "What's that?"
"Oh, it's one of the Weasley's... hang on." Harry stared at the wax-wrapped
candy for a long moment. He then said, "I'll go first."
Snape gave him a curious look.
Harry ignored him. He concentrated on the idea of chocolate- warm, soothing,
sweet and creamy chocolate. He then breathed onto the toffee. A creamy mist
enveloped the sweet. Harry tossed it out from their concealment and watched as
it rolled across the stone floor past the spikes towards Gibbon. It came to a
stop near the man's prone form.
A moment later, the man sniffed the air. He sniffed it again and cautiously
poked his face out from beneath his tattered blanket. The toffee on the floor
shone like a jewel.
"Can't be," he muttered, but a second later Gibbon pounced on the toffee,
holding it up to the pale torchlight as if it might be the Holy Grail itself.
He gave it a tentative lick and shuddered in joy. He licked it again and
stuffed the treat into his mouth and began to chew.
Within a minute, the man's moans of joy were replaced by a harsh barking quack.
He rolled towards them, revealing that his tongue had swollen to fill his whole
mouth and spill out the front and down his chest, and it was still growing. A
minute later, the sound of cracking announced the dislocation of the man's jaw.
Harry steeled his mind once more, trying to lock away the revulsion of watching
a man choke to death. He recalled watching Draco on the Express, changing
similar colours and making similar motions. This time, there would be no
Anapneo. He fought his instinct to alleviate the man's suffering. Now that the
man was choking, Harry needed to stay committed to that death. When he turned
away, he saw that Snape was staring at him. Harry dragged his eyes back towards
the choking man. Gibbon would get that much respect- to have his murderer bear
witness to the whole process of his end.
They watched him choke on his engorged tongue until all the life had escaped
him. Harry watched Gibbon. Snape stared at Harry.
When it was done, Harry turned to Snape and murmured through clenched teeth,
"That's one."
"Vomit if you must, Potter. It's only-"
Provoked by the word, Harry emptied his stomach onto Snape's boots.
"... human."
 
===============================================================================
Snape lured the next death eater, named Albrecht, to their tented cloak at the
man's cell door. "I'm here to free you," he whispered, "to serve the Dark Lord
once more."
Albrecht crawled close as he could, peering towards the sliver of shadow
hanging from nothing, just outside his cell door. "Izzat you, Snape?"
"Yes," he said, "now grab my hand." Snape reached his left arm out of the cover
of the cloak, exposing the dark brand on his forearm. As if reacting to
discovering he was exposed, he retracted it back into the shadows.
"Alright then." The man was so thin he was able to thread himself partly
between the spikes. He turned. He strained. Finally he was close enough, though
a spike was pressing intently against his cheek right below the eye. Albrecht
stretched his hand far enough to reach beyond the door, enough to enter the
shroud.
Snape's Killing Curse shot into the man's palm and he slumped. Only the acrid
scent of his bowels releasing gave proof that he wasn't merely sleeping.
Snape reapplied the Imperturbable charm to the Cloak, then said, "A bit
quicker, you might note."
"You enjoyed that."
Snape answered the accusation with a look of contempt. "Enjoyed it? Enjoyed
using the spell that murdered your parents to do away with your enemies? No,
Potter. Only an idiot would suggest that. Until you've cast that spell
yourself, you will know nothing about what it means."
"Do you think I should use it for the next one, then?"
"No!" Snape's vehemence surprised them both. Snape schooled his emotions, his
face becoming a mask of disdain once more. He said, "Some personal milestones
should be put off as long as possible. This is one."
 
===============================================================================
For their next victim, Harry used the crossbow. He had all the time in the
world to set up the shot, bracing the weapon and taking careful aim at the
man's slumbering form. He fired.
The bolt entering into the man's chest caused him to cry out in shock and pain.
In a panic to silence the scream, Harry slipped the lever on the reel to auto-
retract the rope. This yanked the man's body towards the door until stopped by
the iron spikes. The continued tension from the reel tore the man's lung out of
his chest, ending his scream.
A minute later, another scream came from a prisoner somewhere above them. It
was mocking in similarity. Several other mimicking screams followed, from above
and below. Harry thought he could hear one echoing from another tower, even.
While coming down from the shakes wracking his body, Harry said, "These aren't
the most dangerous ones, are they?"
"What makes you say that?"
Harry gulped. "They seem... too easy to kill."
Snape glared at him, but didn't reply.
"We need to get the key people. We need to get Rookwood, and Mulciber, and
Dolohov. Are you protecting them?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Snape said.
"You know where they are, don't you! If Riddle was planning to attack this
place, he'd have gotten that information and shared it with the people coming
with him. Take me to Rookwood!"
Any reply Snape was preparing was interrupted when he clutched at his forearm,
obvious pain forcing him to curl into a ball. At the same time Harry felt a
pulse of stomach-twisting glee banging against that capped sewer drain in the
back of his mind.
From the staircase to the next level up, he could hear people hissing to each
other. A woman sang off-key, "He's coming! The Dark Lord is coming..."
Snape grabbed Harry by the arm and said, "We're done."
"Not yet!" Harry tried to explain more but his voice was being overwhelmed by a
sort of thunder, in reverse; it started as a distant rumble but quickly grew so
loud as to disrupt his sense of balance. The noise surrounded him, surrounded
the whole tower, the whole island- a sudden shock threw everything into the air
and Harry watched as part of the inner wall cracked apart and fell away from
them.
He'd been bounced into the air and didn't get flat floor to land on. Tilting
slabs of stone sent him off his feet again and then he slid down the now canted
floor, wet flagstone offering poor traction until he got his trainers angled to
his advantage. Through the crack in the tower wall he could see down into the
now-encaved center of the keep. As best he could guess, Voldemort had drawn
down a meteor the size of Durmstrang's ship to sunder the prison's defenses.
Smoking lumps of rock and earth were everywhere. Lightning flashed,
illuminating several streams of black smoke descending towards the base of the
rubble.
An alarm like a chorus of screaming cats rang out. It disharmonized with the
shrieking of Dementors stirred into high dudgeon by having their nest cracked
open.
Harry turned back towards the other half of the hallway- Snape was not in
sight.
He's still under the Cloak... and I'm NOT!
He scanned the darkness, hoping to see a flurry of fabric or even a wave of
movement in the air. Instead he was distracted by the sudden eruption of
multicolored spell fire arcing up in all directions, including at his position.
Voldemort's voice echoed out clearly across the sounds of the storm, the alarm,
the Dementors and the still-collapsing sections of building; 'Kill the Aurors.
Get our friends a wand apiece, then offer amnesty for any new converts, yes?'
Even though it rang in Harry's ears, he could feel that it was a projected
thought.
His vision was obscured by the sudden appearance of a warm body directly in
front of him. The fastest spell he could think of was 'Duro'; the man's cloak
solidified like stone, prompting him to struggle in place accompanied by
guttural cursing.
With the extra moment's preparation, Harry set his mind, aimed, and then cast
Confringo at the man's head. He saw his victim's near eye go wide behind his
silver mask... and then the curse made the man's head burst apart like a kicked
jack-o'-lantern.
From behind him, a hoarse voice called out from one of the cells, "He's here,
my Lord! Potter is here!"
Glory be; I'm famous even at Azkaban.
Another Confringo did something wet and bloody to silence his spotter, but
Harry didn't have time to check if it killed the man. He scrabbled up the
floor, back into the relative concealment of the intact portion of the tower.
'Harry... Potter?' echoed through all nearby brains still functioning. 'How
delightful.'
Once he was on a level surface Harry bolted down the hallway, looking for a
door to the battlement outside. He skidded to a stop at the door but the alarm
must have automatically sealed it shut.
He stepped back and then blew a hole out of the wall beside it. He clambered
through the opening he'd made, but was distracted by the unexpected sound of
buzzing hornets. He turned and saw the wall behind him quiver in place, then
dissipate into a swarm that then gathered and swung in his direction.
Instinct drove him to shoot flames from his wand to burn the hornet horde-
My wand? I thought I'd brought MacNair's. Ten spells later, this occurs to me.
Thanks for coming, wand.
[cnr-dywfon?]
Refocusing his attention, he sent another fan of fire at the remains of the
rallying swarm.
Beyond the frying insects, he saw a white-faced figure clad in black robes,
rising into the air on a pillar of swirling charcoal smoke. Red eyes shone from
beneath his hood and his sharpened teeth glittered in a flash of lightning.
Voldemort said aloud, "Harry Potter. Exactly what we wanted for Christmas."
===============================================================================
Holly idly took note when she first could hear the Weasleys as they roused and
started the day. She was curled up in a high-backed reading chair, staring into
the flames of the fireplace while gnawing on a thumbnail... and imagining every
possible way that Harry's mission could go wrong. Holly was also trying to
understand her own place in his life.
Will I feel it when he kills someone on purpose for the first time?
Will I know if he's caught, tortured or even if he's killed? Would I even
survive if he were killed, or would I suddenly fall apart like a ruptured water
balloon?
Would I even want to survive?
Ron found her there. "Oh, hey Hols. Didn't know you'd got here. Have you seen
Harry around?"
"Not for a few hours," she answered, truthfully.
Ron slumped down into the seat across from her. He spent a few minutes
recounting to her his view of the bonding over whisky from the previous night.
They were interrupted by a flash of white in midair that formed into a luminous
doe. It spoke in Snape's voice, "The Dark Lord has attacked, and the idiot
child has chosen to confront him."
"Oh, no," Holly moaned, "Nooooo. No no no no no- what part of 'escape together
unseen' did you not understand?"
The Patronus had faded, though Ron's face had gone nearly as pale. "Are you
saying Harry went with Snape on some mission and now Harry's fighting You-Know-
Who on his own?"
"Wha- Ron, just wait a moment and I can explain."
Ron was having nothing of that though, and he bolted from the room. Holly
rushed after him but couldn't outpace the boy's much longer legs. She arrived
in the kitchen just as Ron blurted out, "Harry's gone on a mission with Snape
and now he's fighting Volde- He-Who- ...Riddle. He's facing Him. Alone!"
Ginny turned an accusatory glare at Holly and said, "Why aren't you there with
him? Why is Snape-"
"Azkaban," croaked out Sirius, who was nursing a steaming mug of potion in the
corner, "It's the only place Hols can't function."
Ron nodded and said, "Must be. It makes sense."
Looks were traded around the table. Ron to the twins, Remus at Sirius, and
Ginny to Bill who then turned to Charlie, who evidently had returned from St.
Mungo's now that their mother was allowed back in. They all turned to look at
Holly. She nodded.
Bill said, "Get what we need; meet back here in four minutes. Bring brooms,
weapons and anything that can protect us from spells and the cold. Sirius, if
you have a flying carpet-"
"Yeah, there's one upstairs. Back in a jot," he said and then Disapparated.
Following his example, everyone twins or older Disapparated as well. Ginny and
Ron barreled out through the kitchen door.
Holly sank down to sit in a chair.
Bill reappeared with a 'pop', mid-process of sheathing an ornate-handled knife
into his belt.
Holly asked him, "So, how are you planning to get there?"
"Side-along Apparation chain. Why?"
"You've been there before?"
Sirius had reappeared burdened with a broom, a rolled up carpet, and a thick
fur cloak. Bill nodded his way and said, "Mr. Black should know the way to
Azkaban."
Sirius looked up and said, "Uh, that's not likely to work out. I was a bit
addled when I escaped. I don't think I could find my way back."
Bill mulled for a moment. "Is Tonks still here?"
"No," Holly answered, "she left a few hours ago."
Sirius turned to her and said, "You know the way."
"I never went there, here," she protested, "I can't trace back -"
"That's not what I mean," Sirius said. "You know the way to Harry. You've said
so several times- you always know where Harry is."
Holly opened her mouth but for once she had nothing to say. All she could hear
were her own screams echoing in her mind from the last time she'd faced a
Dementor.
 
===============================================================================
SIrius looked over the Weasleys crowded in his kitchen, all in heavy fur
cloaks. Swap their wands and brooms for broadswords and they could be allies of
William Wallace girding for battle. Their departure had been delayed for an
argument between Bill and the youngest two.
"I mean it- you wait here in case someone needs to come save us. Mum will be
returning from the hospital soon enough, and she'll be less likely to explode
if it's only us missing. With any luck we'll be back before she knows it."
Ginny growled quite adorably in frustration. Ron simply handed over his broom
for Charlie to use.
Holly then announced, "We're going on a long three-count: like one-two-three-
go, alright?" Receiving nods, Holly gripped Sirius' hand and stared deep into
his eyes.
In his head, he heard, 'I am the guide- you are the conductor. Do not let the
pipeline close until you're certain the last one is through.'
Though startled, Sirius thought back, 'Understood'.
Aloud, she said, "One..."
Sirius reached back and grasped Remus' hand, who had already joined hands with
Charlie, followed by Bill, George and Fred at the end.
"Two..."
Sirius saw Fred turn towards the youngest Weasley kids and hold out his hand.
"Three..."
Ginny grabbed it and grabbed Ron's hand as well.
"Go!"
The hand connected to Holly squeezed tight- even tighter than normal, as if
instead of a hosepipe, SIrius was being drawn through a pinhole. He turned his
spine in just the right way and the pressure relaxed slightly- her hand was
still in his, pulling towards the pinhole. Everyone else dragged on his other
arm, threatening to pull it out of socket, but he held tight. A painful few
moments later, they landed on a dock. Sirius turned back to verify that Ron had
arrived at the end of the chain, then released his hold on the aperture.
Holly gasped out, "This is as close as I could get. I -" She then flipped onto
her back and screamed. Moony jumped and grabbed her by the mouth to muffle her.
Turning to see what she saw, Sirius was tempted to join her.
Waves of Dementors were flying towards them like a charging cavalry. He held up
his wand and tried to think of a good memory. The view beneath Holly's skirt
came to mind.
Ron called out, "Wait! Don't cast - just listen!"
Remus had hit Holly with a Silencing jinx; Sirius could now pick out a haunting
but sweet song echoing across the water, loud enough to out sing the crashing
waves, rumbling storm and screeching Dementors. "What is that?"
"Phoenix song," Ron said, "Harry's wand must be locked up with Riddle's, like
he said happened in the graveyard. The Dementors, they're all just running
away!"
They watched as scores of Dementors flew overhead, clearly unconcerned with
their presence.
Once they'd passed, he heard Charlie say, "Ron, Ginny- what the bloody HELL ARE
YOU DOING HERE?"
Ron answered with some affront, "Helping, I'd say."
Ginny added, "Harry's our friend and leader. He needs us all and you won't keep
us from standing by him. We wouldn't be Weasleys if we did."
Charlie grumbled at her, but then turned away without further argument. He
pulled a spyglass from one of his pockets and aimed it out to sea. "Looks like
there are people Apparating around the place, so the protections must be
completely down."
Remus had let Holly go so he could join the conversation. He gave Ginny a look
of apology and said, "Right now, you're a liability. We can't be protecting you
and trying to save Harry. Just stay here with Holly... and the carpet, since
you can't Apparate."
Bill said, "If no one else minds, I've got a plan." Following nods of assent he
said, "We want to get in, grab Harry and get out as quick as we can, all
together."
From his robes he pulled out a sack tied closed with leather; unwrapping it
revealed a foot-tall stone obelisk and several flat stone disks, each with a
ribbon threaded through the hole in the center.
"This is a campsite beacon and talismans. We use them in crypt explorations in
case you end up underground and unconscious- you can't Apparate out of an
enclosed space if you have no idea how far down you are, so this leads your
Apparation back to the campsite.
"This will be our rally point. We'll fly in as teams, approaching in order of
age- Sirius and Remus; me and Charlie; the twins. Stay undetected as long as
possible, then toss in some distractions and evade pursuit. Do not get into a
duel. When a team gets to Harry, Apparate with him back to the camp stone and
then tap this sigil to send us a signal. The signal from the camp stone will
make all the talismans heat up, so wear it next to your skin so you'll feel
it."
Fred was putting his talisman under his shirt when he noted, "Oi, Bill- where's
yours?"
Bill turned to him and then tugged on the fang piercing in his left ear. He
continued, "Once we're all here, we'll head back to headquarters. Our only
mission is to get Harry and get out. If it all goes pear-shaped," and he gave
his youngest siblings a forlorn look, "fly away."
Disillusionment charms were applied to all. Sirius gave chameleon-Remus a
chameleon-smile, hoping the expression of confidence would calm his own shaking
hands. They mounted their brooms and sped off towards the island. It was
straight towards the mouth of the Abyss as far as he was concerned.
Only for you, Harry.
 
===============================================================================
Ron unfurled the carpet and slumped down on it. The Persian design was faded in
some spots and the gold fringe along one edge had separated except at the
corners. He plopped the camp stone down to keep the corner of carpet from
flapping up from the wind.
"They're treating us like babies."
Ginny had Charlie's spyglass out. He could see the rippling outline of her,
standing on one of the dock pylons to get a better viewpoint past the choppy
seas. "Welcome to my life, Ron."
They sat for a few minutes, staring at the storm over the island where
multicolored lightning reversed course up into the clouds. A chill swept over
them. Even under a heavy winter cloak, Ron shuddered. It would be easier to
bear through this bone-deep cold if he had something else to do than think
about it.
He turned to check on Holly. Disillusioned as she was, he could see her shape
rippling at the tree line. She appeared to be back-crawling, and Ron soon
realised why. Floating out of the darkness between the trees were a trio of
Dementors. They pounced on Holly, shrieking in delight now that they had a
victim.
He heard Ginny cast 'Finite'- the sudden sound of Holly's screams out-shrieked
the Dementors. Ginny called to him, "Can you cast a Patronus?"
"Of course not! Are you mad? We've got to fly -"
"But what about Holly?"
As if in answer, Holly's screams stopped.
They both turned to look for her. The Dementors at the edge of the wood were
rising from whatever they had done to Holly and now were turning their
attention towards them.
Ron grasped Ginny by the cloak and pulled her onto the carpet. Ginny protested
but he knew that there was no other choice. With Ginny clutched to him, he
grabbed onto the gold fringe of the carpet and flicked it like reins, urging it
into flight.
They shot away from the ground faster than expected, finding themselves
circling above the prison within three heartbeats. Both were also surprised to
realise that the carpet had bonded them in place, making falling off nigh-
impossible. Bill's obelisk was similarly anchored at the corner of the carpet.
He still had one arm around Ginny, though she'd stopped struggling. Despite all
the rancor below, he could hear her crying into the folds of heavy cloak.
"She was gone, Ginny."
Ginny pulled out of his grip and glared at him.
"What could we do?" he added. "Honestly; what good could we have possibly done
for her by that point?"
Ginny shook her head and rubbed away the tears threatening to freeze to her
eyelashes.
"You're right. And I'm not really mad at you. I'm just... mad." She turned to
look down over the island. "And I see a bunch of people I can take it out on."
He looked back at her for a moment, then said, "I'll fly; you hex."
 
===============================================================================
It has seemed like a good idea at the time.
From the start, Harry saw that Voldemort was being quite careful not to cast a
spell directly at him. They both knew that this wand-lock was a possibility.
Harry had tried casting a number of curses at the man but he was quite agile on
his pillar of smoke and readily grabbed pieces of rubble to deflect Harry's
spells if he was too busy to dodge.
Harry's solution was a bit mad, but so was he. He spotted an Auror emerging
from cover to cast at the floating Dark Lord and ran full-bore to jump in
between them. He'd calculated that the Auror's spell would pass before he got
there and jumped in hopes to intercept Voldemort's curse in riposte with his
Disarming charm... while jumping into free fall thirty feet above the ground.
'Make this happen,' he'd willed.
Defying the odds and all common sense, his gamble paid off and the Priori
Incantatem effect grabbed them both into the floating golden cage. From then
on, they were stuck out of the action below; Voldemort's expression of anger
about that really made Harry smile.
Caught as they were in this specific effect for the last twenty minutes or so,
Harry was now confounded on how to get out of it.
I had distractions before; echoes of old spells of his that acted against him.
We're both stronger this time, and he's familiar enough with the outcome that
he's keeping the ball in the middle from reaching his wand.
Suddenly the area around them grew thick with explosions of green gas.
Dungbombs? What kind of Death Eater would bring dungbombs for this?
Strangely enough, while the golden cage had deflected all spells and objects
tossed at it, the noxious gas seeped right in.
Their battle of wills became a battle of composure- both were nauseated by the
clinging gas, feeling it seeping into their noses, their eyes. Even the chain
of power linking their wands in combat turned green.
The wand-lock broke, sending a wave radiating out from them, carrying the
noxious fumes with it. He began to fall.
A moment later, Harry was hurtling straight upward.
Realising he'd been hexed, he invoked a Finite. When that didn't work, he
riffled through a catalog of counter-curses for spells that grab the opponent.
Liberacorpus released the spell on his body that was propelling him up into the
storm clouds. He was able to reorient himself to see downward just as gravity
had finally stopped his upward motion. He looked down at the island of Azkaban
from at least a thousand feet in the air.
No broom, no winged animagus form. Even if I can survive hitting the ground,
and I'm still not convinced that'll work, I'm an easy target all the way down.
With only Holly's notes describing the process to guide him, he Disapparated.
 
===============================================================================
Ginny and Ron had been circling above the battle. They couldn't see any of
their family and the death eaters were moving so quickly that targeting any of
them seemed pointless. Ginny had resolved that chaos would be to their
advantage, so she'd gathered a collection of tricks they'd stuffed into their
pockets and launched them into the fray.
When the golden cage blew apart it threatened to knock them, carpet and all,
into the sea. They were hurtling downward and only at the last moment did Ron
recover control of the tassels and flip them to skim across wave tips until
they were upright and stable again. Ron turned back towards the island. Ginny
ordered him to fly up towards where they saw Harry falling. He snapped the
reins and they shot forward, but halfway there they saw Harry Disapparate.
"Didn't know he could do that," said Ron.
"Me either."
Seeing the battle picking up steam again, Ginny loaded up another hefty
collection of missiles into her palm and Banished them with enough oomph to
reach and detonate around Voldemort. Brown, stinky clouds surrounded him, but a
blue spell shot forth from the mess right afterwards, fanning outwards in an
arc towards them. Ron banked away just fast enough that the spell only ripped
through the trailing corner of fabric, though that was enough to set it aflame.
Clouds of black smoke marked their flight path- even disillusioned, they knew
they could easily be targeted. Ron dove the carpet back down below the curtain
wall and intercepted an ocean swell to soak them with seawater. They hit it and
flipped over, all landing in the angry sea.
Ron didn't let go of the reins, though, and a moment later he aimed the carpet
upward. It dragged them back out of the water, soaked to freezing but alive.
Ginny grabbed him in a hug from behind. "Best brother, ever."
Ron smiled. He said, "Let's go get Harry."
 
===============================================================================
Harry felt that Disapparating was exactly as disturbing as Holly had described
it, but the end of the transport was unexpectedly harsh. Pain erupted in both
his left arm and left knee. He opened his eyes to find himself facing a stone
wall, into which parts of him were now stuck. While it hurt, it didn't hurt as
much as he would have expected. It felt mostly like those sections of his body
were being squeezed under a steel press, but not hard enough that they would
burst. Nonetheless, he was stuck in a wall and in a lot of pain. Still at
Azkaban. It occurred to him that a destination more specific than 'down to the
ground' might have served him better.
There was a 'poof', then an inky cloud of darkness surrounded him. His
enchanted lenses compensated, but he could barely twist his neck far enough
around to note two figures were now approaching him through the coal-black
smoke.
He heard one say, "Well, that's done it, Fred. Now I can't see anything,
either. How are we going to get him out?"
The other replied, "Dunno, but at least we have a few minutes to think on it."
"Fair point, fair point."
His heart warmed to hear those friendly voices. He croaked out, "T-take... take
my glasses. Hermione charmed them. They see through this."
One twin fumbled forward until he found Harry's shoulder, then traced around by
touch to lift the glasses from his face and put them on.
"Oh, brilliant," the twin exclaimed. "Y'know, we should sit that girl down and
bring her into the business."
"Plans for later, George, cut him out."
"I'm cutting, I'm cutting."
George freed Harry's arm, though it was still weighted by a ring of stone
bonded through his forearm. He fell backwards from the lack of bracing, caught
by Fred before he could crack his head open. His leg was freed a moment later.
The stone held it clamped at a right angle, so the twins lifted him up from
either side.
"We're going to Apparate us to a safe point," George said. "On three. Don't
resist it, alright?"
He nodded.
"One..." said Fred.
"Two..." said George.
They were all blasted onto their arses by a shockwave, followed by hurricane-
force wind tumbling them against the wall. The wind blew the cloud of darkness
from around them as well. They looked up to see a pale figure in black robes
standing five yards above them on a broken edge of wall. His red eyes flared.
"Don't. Move. We shall kill Harry Potter without interference... or else we
will keep killing those getting in the way until the deed is done, understood?"
Whether the twins had agreed or were simply frozen with fear, neither of them
moved.
The Dark Lord snapped, "Avada Kedavra!"
A slab of flagstone flipped up in front of them to block it, though it cracked
to pieces when the spell struck. Thousands of seagulls then swooped in,
buffeting around the Dark Lord and also intercepting every spell yet flying at
someone in the battlefield beyond them.
Harry took the opportunity to Banish Voldemort away from them. The gulls didn't
intercept that and had sufficiently distracted the warlock that he was forced a
dozen yards off his perch before once again rising up on a pillar of smoke.
An eardrum-shattering boom accompanied a bolt of lightning which struck the wet
ground near several cloaked figures. They all clutched and contorted in pain,
then collapsed. Smoke rose from within their black cloaks.
All attention was then drawn to a sole figure- a tall, old man in white robes,
standing on a precipice of tower. Down at ground level, Bellatrix spun around
to cast at him but was knocked out by a sudden stalagmite projecting up from
the ground into her chin.
"Enough, Tom." However calmly it was said, everyone heard it, even if their
ears were still ringing from the lightning's shockwave. They could hear the
anger beneath it, too.
Voldemort scowled. He took a look around, smirked at the devastation and the
dead.
He bowed towards the white wizard, and then Disapparated. A moment later his
minions Disapparated as well, including Bellatrix who was holding her jaw in
place while clambering to her feet.
Ron and Ginny then appeared from over the curtain wall, swooping towards Harry
and the twins on a flying carpet. Ron guided it down to land next to them. As
soon as they landed, Ginny tapped a stone at the corner of the carpet. People
started Apparating around them. First was Bill, holding up his brother Charlie
whose left arm looked like it had been caught in a meat grinder. Remus
Apparated in, turned in a circle, and then moved to tend Charlie's arm. Sirius
appeared in mid-stride, wrapping Harry in a hug two steps later.
Harry shook his head happily to see so many allies. When he saw the vague
outline of Dumbledore, looming behind the crowd of redheads, he blushed a
little.
"Where did you come from, sir?" Harry asked him, "Did Snape tell you?"
"No," Dumbledore said with sigh, "I was already here." The man's face began to
soften, the beard disappearing and the hair drawing short into his rapidly de-
aging head. His body shrunk down by at least a foot. With a tap of wand on
bracelet, the hat and robes swapped out for a battered and dusty cloak over a
leather jacket, torn jeans and jump boots. Her hair turned from sagely white to
candy-floss pink.
Tonks said, "... But then I found myself stuck beneath a large lump of
Scotland."
"Tonks?" Ron exclaimed, "How'd you pull all that off?"
She ran her fingers through her hair to shake out the last of the grey. "The
birds were already in flight, I'd already called the lightning and put a
Sonorous on, so really I was only actively Shaping Earth. The most important
part was me keeping me balance like an awesome wizard should."
"And making the world's most successful bluff," gushed Charlie.
Tonks nodded and suppressed a prideful grin. She stepped up close to Harry and
shot a cloudy purple spell at him; the stones still encasing his knee and arm
slipped off to crumble on the ground. "That's a splinch-reversal charm. Don't
Apparate again until you know what you're doing." She then glared at him and
yelled, "Was it worth it?"
Harry reeled at her sudden anger. Then he glared back. "Five enemies dead, at
minimum."
Tonks said, "Not counting all the Ministry people crushed beneath the rock or
cut down by Death Eaters!"
"Yeah- not counting them," Harry replied, "on account as they would've died
anyway."
"Six," Sirius said. "My dear cousin Bellatrix is now a widow."
Remus said, "You're sure?"
Sirius gestured back towards the remains of the tallest tower. "They left
Roddy's body behind, still stuck on the cell door spikes that I Summoned him
into."
Fred said, "That's one for Fabian or Gideon, then."
George added, "Since Barty Jr. got Kissed back in June, maybe that covers for
both."
Tonks shook her head. She turned away and wouldn't look at any of them. She
raised a weakened hand to catch her tears on the cuff of her cloak. Bill
stepped close to offer her a consoling word, but she twisted away. "Get out of
my sight," she ordered. "All of you. Go away."
 
===============================================================================
They Apparated as a jumble, landing in the entry hall of Grimmauld Place. The
portrait of Sirius' mother started screeching at them but was interrupted by a
grey spell from Mrs. Weasley as she charged down the steps. She bellowed at the
petrified painting, "YOU CAN JUST WAIT YOUR TURN!"
The witch turned to glare down at them, her wand raised and sparking. She spoke
in a quiet hiss, "I have been up and down the entirety of this thrice-damned
house looking for my family, all of whom were in MORTAL PERIL!"
There was a gasp from down the hallway toward the kitchen. Hermione rushed
forward, cradling the Weasley family clock in both arms.
"I'm so sorry it's my fault I don't know how it happened I just Floo'd in and
hit the table and the clock fell and I'M SO SORRY I BROKE IT!"
Mrs. Weasley looked over the bannister at her and said, "What do you mean, you
broke it?"
Hermione held up one of the metal hands.
"Not completely. Just that this one came off." She turned it in her hand to
identify it. Realisation drained the colour from her face. She whispered, "It's
Mr. Weasley's."
Molly clutched at the bannister to ride out some sort of tremor. She then sank
down onto the stairs. She could only gurgle as her throat closed up in weeping.
"It's working just fine, Hermione," said Bill. "You did nothing wrong."
 
===============================================================================
 
Chapter End Notes
     The 'P' chapter has been split into two, possibly three pieces,
     because it all relates to the Yule events and consequences but has
     significant shifts in tone and focus. 'Qualified' will come after,
     covering the return to Hogwarts to face Umbridge.
     [cnr-dywfon?] = 'command not recognised- do you want flames or not?';
     wands don't speak (and even if they did it certainly wouldn't be in
     English) but in my headcanon they do have a way of communicating with
     their owner/users through subtle buzzes and pulses. They might say a
     lot, but it's the rare sort of wizard that can sense them at all.
***** Patronum [P2] *****
Chapter Summary
     The Weasley family comes together to fall apart.
 
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related concepts are owned by someone who
isn't me. The rest of this they wouldn't want to own, so we'll call that stuff
mine.
Author's babble: This has taken a huge amount of time for many reasons, not the
least of which was an identity crisis (for the fic I mean; I'm fine, thanks).
Is this just a sex romp or are we telling a story here?
Based on reviews, the Story won, so I've decided to pare away the truly raunchy
bits for the version posted on fanfiction dot net. I'll keep them intact here
and on the other sites, so we'll see how it goes.
And now for something completely different.
Holly Polter
[[ Chapter: P2 - Patronum ]]
===============================================================================
As Harry saw it, everyone was moving at half-speed.
Bill climbed the stairs toward his mother; one step, then another. Remus aided
Charlie to standing, inspected his splint at the shoulder, the elbow, the
forearm. After they shared a look, they moved together past Hermione towards
the kitchen. Hermione, who appeared to be crying as much as Molly, had stepped
into Ron's arms.
Sirius said something to the twins. It was muffled in Harry's perception, but
they both must have understood as they stopped staring at Ron and Hermione and
instead bent down to pick up a broom, a cloak, whatever else had been left in
the pile in the entryway that they'd brought back from Azkaban.
Ginny took a step up the stairs to follow Bill.
Harry spoke to her retreating back, "Has anyone seen Holly?"
Ginny stopped, turned to face him and then shook her head, her lips clamped
shut as if afraid of letting something escape. After Harry stared at her for a
bit, she said, "The Dementors... got her."
A similar cold gripped him.
"But that's happened before, right?" Ginny tried to reassure him, "She'll come
back?"
All he could do was acknowledge the effort. "Right. Yeah. Okay."
His head stung. There were too many things which had just happened for him to
process them all. He closed his eyes tight, but his mind flashed to the sound
of a man choking, then the vision of a body being pulled onto iron spiked. He
shook his head and was overwhelmed by the smell of bowels emptying in death.
His first instinct was to run from those memories, to force himself to think of
something else. That wasn't what Holly had taught him, though.
All those ugly thoughts? We all have them. Proof of our inherent cruelty, lust,
fear, jealousy - you can't master your mind if you're unwilling to accept all
of it, and yourself, for what is truly there. If you fear a memory, you have to
find it, face it, acknowledge that it happened. Don't try to judge it; just see
it clearly. Then, you add it into your self. Integrate it. Catalog it. Store it
for later reference, because that fearful moment might someday help you in ways
a walk in the park on a sunny day never could.
Easier said than done. Still, it gave Harry something to do for a while.
The Weasleys collected a few hours later by the fireplace in the kitchen. Their
mum still appeared emotionally stricken, which was just as unsettling to Harry
as it was to them.
Harry stood with Hermione and Sirius, intending to wish them well. Ron gave him
an odd look. "Aren't you coming?"
Harry blinked in confusion. "I really should stay. Let you, the family, handle
this."
The redheads shared doubtful looks. Bill piped up, "After we rescued you from
Azkaban? I barely know you and even I know, if you don't come with us, you'll
end up doing something bravely stupid and then we'll have to go out and do it
all over again."
"He has a point," Sirius said from behind him, "You should go with them." Harry
felt a squeeze on his shoulder - an unspoken reassurance that Sirius wasn't
just being polite.
Harry smiled and stepped forward to stand next to Ron. He then said, "Hermione
should come, too."
"Harry, I..."
"Because otherwise you're stuck here with Sirius, Remus, and a house-elf who
thinks you'd make a good pack animal."
Her eyes widened. She made no protest when Ron and Ginny grabbed her hands and
pulled her into the group queueing for the Floo.
Sirius gave them each a wave as they were whisked away.
While Floo travel was still a dizzying, sooty mess for him, Harry felt he
exited the fire much more gracefully than his previous attempts. He then
stumbled anyway, trying not to step onto a pile of folded notices bearing the
seal of the Ministry. "What's with all the post?"
"The Trace," Bill said, "it must've kicked off warnings of possible underage
use of magic by Ron and Ginny. Since we're purebloods, it's up to Mum to hold
them accountable."
Ginny suggested, "Toss 'em into the fire?"
"You wish. The proper thing to do is to have Mum sign the forms and send them
all back. Doesn't matter right now, though. Stack them somewhere."
Ginny nodded and collected them up, stowing them in the writing desk near the
garden window. "Now what happens?"
After a moment of no one answering, Ginny said, "All right ... Bill, you need
to go to the hospital to see to Charlie and find out what they plan to do next
with Dad. Ron, get Harry and Hermione situated. I'll take Mum into the bedroom
and help her get into some warm clothes. Fred, George..."
"Yes, Generalissima?"
"Find Percy. Bring him home."
That night before bed, Harry & Ron explained to Hermione the process of events
that she had missed. She gasped and 'ooh'-ed and exclaimed as appropriate,
ending in a long, tearful hug for Ron. After that, Hermione touched Harry's
shoulder and said, "I'm glad that you're alive." She then left the bedroom.
"What's her problem with you?" asked Ron.
Harry thought for a moment. "I think she's upset because I went there to kill
people. You, she has all the sympathy in the world for. You came only because I
needed to be rescued, and then... your dad died."
"Yeah."
"Ron, I don't know what you would want to hear from me, but I will say that I'm
sorry."
His friend appeared irritated. "Don't say that. I don't need your -"
"This isn't about pity!"
"Shut up for a mo'!"
Harry's mouth clicked shut.
Ron blinked several times. "I don't want your apology. Don't treat me weird.
Just... be Harry like you are when ... y'know... we're getting along. I want...
I need that. Be normal."
Harry scoffed.
Ron added with a smile, "Well, y'know, I wouldn't ask you out loud if I didn't
expect that you were gonna have to work really hard to do that."
[[[]]]
===============================================================================
Harry woke up late that night. His nightmares were no longer creative mash-ups
of odd anxieties - he was seeing men dying by his hand. He slumped down to the
kitchen. Not surprisingly, another Weasley was making tea when he got there.
"How's the arm?"
Charlie had the build of a footballer, and even in winter he had his sleeves
rolled up to show off his muscles. "Just another scar with a story, now. Fancy
a shot of whisky in your tea?"
"You're alright with that?"
"As long as you don't empty the bottle, yeah. Just don't rat me out to Mum."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
They sat at the table, letting the tea steep.
After a few minutes, Charlie said, "I'm surprised there's not more of us down
here tonight. Well, not very surprised. Bill isn't even sleeping here."
"No? Where'd he go?"
"Back to the bank or something. Every chance he gets, he's out the Floo on some
excuse or another. Then there's the twins. I don't know how this is hitting
them, but whenever they're quiet, you can expect someone is going to be
suffering soon."
"Yeah. Noticed that at school, actually. Loud Weasleys are always safer than
the quiet ones."
Charlie turned away, and took another sip of his doctored tea. When he turned
back, Harry saw that he was openly crying.
Harry looked into his eyes, utterly lost in how to deal with this.
Charlie didn't seem to mind. He just looked at him, almost as if Harry
represented something else, though he didn't know what. Harry gave him the most
sympathetic look he could manage.
"I never told him," he finally said. "I never... I could have, but I didn't. I
should have trusted..."
Harry caught a vision from Charlie's thoughts, of a shirtless Oliver Wood
saying something to him like 'it has to happen sometime.' Much guilt and
affection flavored the memory. "Charlie... is that a big problem, being gay?"
Charlie looked briefly shocked, and Harry sensed him worrying that Oliver had
told Harry about them. "It's not frowned upon unless you talk about it. So I
never talk about it." Charlie glared at him with raw eyes.
"Doesn't mean your dad didn't know, then. He's pretty sharp."
"He might have suspected, but I never told him." Charlie gave him a suspicious
look. "You don't seem surprised."
"Oh, I had no idea, but it's not like i've got cause to judge. I mean, Holly's
like that with girls."
"Your tutor told you she was a lesbian?"
"Bisexual, and Lupin pretty much outed her in front of everyone right when they
met her. She's fairly open about herself, so it wasn't much more than
irritating to her."
"Brave, that."
Harry said, "I won't tell anyone that you're gay, but I think you should."
Seeing Charlie's growing consternation, he added, "I mean, if you regret not
telling your dad, then maybe it's time for you to tell everyone else. You have
an opportunity here. Everyone will be in the same room."
Charlie's look of worry eased. He smiled ruefully and nodded. Then he snarked,
"Everyone except Percy."
"Fred and George are still on the hunt, so I wouldn't count him out yet."
"I'll wait, then."
Harry gave him a conniving look. "Piker. Any excuse to put it off."
"Shut it!" Charlie replied with a laugh.
"Give me more whisky, then."
[[[]]]
===============================================================================
The morning Prophet announced the breakout from Azkaban, though a number of
details were missing or being deliberately mis-reported. They portrayed Sirius
as the most likely instigator, though his killing of Rodolphus Lestrange was
mentioned as a sign that the escapees may not be unified in purpose. No mention
was made of Harry or the Weasley's involvement. Most of the credit was being
aimed towards 'Mymthora' Tonks, the only surviving Auror in any shape to take
credit for preventing the wholesale emptying of the prison.
Most unnerving to Harry was the buried article that said the Dementors had
already reconstructed the prison back to its original shape.
[[[]]]
===============================================================================
Harry was impressed by how naturally Ginny stepped into the role of family
traffic cop. During a lull, she explained, "Bill wasn't doing anything, Charlie
just came back from almost losing his arm and the rest can't coordinate a lunch
date. I had to step up."
Ginny had discovered new value in her talent for mimicking voices. She posed as
her mum while negotiating with the outside world, the Floo fire obscuring just
enough details in her face to make the disguise credible.
Imelda Mincing at the Ministry was the first to receive Ginny's version of
Molly's nigh-imperious tone - "I do not care where he left off on the
paperwork. Send his personal effects home and I'd like a complete report on his
pension and owed pay."
Then it was the hospital - "What do you mean, 'Would it be okay if the body
wasn't there'? Where is my - Arthur's body?"
An old, coughing wizard from the Department of Mysteries - "It's ours, so give
it back, intact and presentable! Oh, do take a lozenge, would you?"
The undertakers - "Why did they send it to you? No- never mind. For once they
erred in our favour. What? No, we aren't 'coming 'round before five so you can
meet your mates for a pint' - you're going to deliver it to us intact and
properly shrouded, Thursday before dawn as promised ... or you'll get such a
howler! Oh, you think that's an idle threat? MEMBERS OF THE WIZENGAMOT FEAR MY
HOWLER! IT'S BEEN NOMINATED AS THE FOURTH UNFORGIVABLE!"
Even the offices of the Daily Prophet - "You will send early copy for my
approval of any article mentioning Arthur Weasley or his family for the next
week or else I shall burn your printing presses to the ground ...
"... I have no idea what you're talking about - St. Mungo's has handled this
with sympathy and discretion. You could learn a thing or two from them."
Ginny rose from her latest verbal battle to find Harry standing just outside
the kitchen, smiling at her as she brushed green soot from her mum's apron.
"You're doing great," Harry said.
"Compared to what?" she snapped, tucking her hair back into place to aid her
disguise.
"Compared to what I might've done in your place, which is not have a clue even
where to begin. It's really fantastic."
"Oh, well it is rather fun, pretending to be a witch feared for her temper."
"That part's not much of a stretch."
She smiled, but then glared at him and said, "Shouldn't you be cooking
something?"
Harry scooted off towards the kitchen. He and Ron had taken over the cooking
duties and hadn't poisoned any of them yet, much to their relief. The bread was
always too dense and the stews ranged from nearly tasteless to painfully spicy,
but Ginny seemed grateful to them for taking over that burden while her mum
remained disconsolate.
Hermione had done quite a bit as well in keeping everyone on task and trying to
lift their spirits. Her latest ploy was to encourage everyone to focus on
trimming the Christmas tree. After an hour of sullen half-participation from
the others, she cast a few animations that finished the work for them.
They gathered the evening of Christmas eve, wearing their holiday best for a
passable feast. This tradition they followed even without prompting by their
mum. Ginny had helped her into her best robe to suit the occasion. The meal was
made more tense, anticipating whether Percy would finally show his face.
All other markers on the Weasley family clock were pointed at 'Home', except
Percy's. His had aimed at 'Work' or 'Traveling' for the most part. He'd become
much more cunning at evading the twins in his time at the Ministry, and had yet
to be tracked down despite their efforts. Harry suspected that Fred and George
weren't putting their all into the hunt, as they'd both expressed a lack of
desire to have Percy back in the fold.
Molly had spent most of the time knitting in her favorite chair, stealing
glances at the family clock and then scowling into her lap. She nearly stuck
Fred with a knitting needle when she noticed he hadn't set a place for Percy,
but that was the most noise she'd made in a while. She made no remark when,
after they'd all stared at the feast sitting on the table for ten minutes, Bill
said, "No sense letting it get cold," and started serving.
They finished the repast and Hermione volunteered once again to manage the
dishes, perhaps a little eager to use spells while away from school. Charlie
was muttering something in collusion with the twins, though he kept shaking his
head at them. Ginny was asking Bill about curse breaking but getting one-word
answers, as Bill acted more interested in how the brandy sloshed in his
tumbler.
Ron was staring at the fireplace. As green flames flared up, he muttered,
"...about time,".
Out strode Percy, but when he realised that he was surrounded by his siblings,
all looking somewhat murderous, his stance faltered. "I'm here," he declared
rather pointlessly.
Mrs. Weasley stood from her chair. She pointed towards the pantry and then
followed Percy in. The door shut and a stopper-like sound gave proof of the
charm that sealed them from being overheard.
A few minutes later, Percy burst out of the pantry with a red hand-print on his
face. He headed back towards the fireplace to Floo out, but Ron tossed a pail
of red sand over the embers to cut off that escape. Percy scowled at him and
then changed direction.
Harry was nearest the door to the mudroom leading outside. He moved into
Percy's path. "You're not leaving."
"Out of my way, Potter."
Harry braced his arm across the doorway. "No, I mean, you can't leave. Either
you're going to sort this out with your mum, or..." Harry looked over Percy's
shoulder, seeing the twins, Ron, & Charlie all drawing their wands. "I was
going to say 'you'll never get it sorted', but the truth is, the rest are gonna
kill you the second you step beyond the property line."
"Is that a threat?" spat Percy.
"Of course it's a threat," Harry replied. With a softened tone, he said, "I get
that your career was on the rise, and that associating with your father within
the Ministry might have bollixed it, but that was work. This is family."
Percy, though wary, was still being aggro; "What would you know about family,
Potter?"
For the first time in days, Harry felt fire in his heart. He glared, inducing
Percy to take a step back.
"I know a lot about family," Harry said. "I learned most of it from you lot,
since my family's dead. There's one thing you didn't - and probably couldn't-
understand, until now. My mum sacrificed her life to protect mine and that
sacrifice is what brought down Voldemort."
Percy blanched. By naming the Dark lord, Harry had finally captured his full
attention.
Harry added, "Are you seriously willing to toss away that sort of power? The
power of family?"
Percy sneered at him. "Except that you've been saying it didn't work- that he's
back. Where's your power of family now?"
"Either I'm wrong about him being back and my mum did him in, which means that
the power of family is exactly what I said, or I'm right that he's out there,
which means you're fighting for the wrong team. What if I'm right?"
Percy's head snapped back and he appeared to be trying to recover his balance.
He rubbed his sore cheek. A sullen look came over him. He walked back through
the living room into the shadowed pantry where his mother still was cloistered.
His brothers all gave him the evil eye as he passed through, though they put
their wands away.
Ginny idled over to stand alongside Harry in the doorway. She whispered, "How
did you do that?"
"It's just the truth. I told him what I felt."
"No, I mean, you forced the words into my head at the end; Percy's head, too,
by the way he reacted."
"I... I'm not sure. Why are you the only one asking?"
"I suspect the answer to both questions is gonna be Mind Arts. Hols has been
teaching me the Occumulul- Occlumlu- the mind defence thing. Amongst other
things."
"Oh, yeah. How're you two... er... doing?"
A blush escaped Ginny's control and she turned away to look at the fairy lights
on the Christmas tree. She said airily, "We're getting along just fabulously.
She's a great, um, tutor."
Harry smiled. "Yeah, I remember some really enjoyable lessons in 'um'. Are you
finding 'um' difficult?"
Ginny shoved him in the shoulder. "You'll be pleased to hear that Holly thinks
I'm quite talented. A natural, she said."
"A natural... at what?"
"Ummmm... body-enhancing magic," she said. "Why? Are you suggesting something
else?"
Bill growled, "Ginny, stop it."
"What's your problem?"
He strode up to loom over her. "Flirting with Harry, now? Here? With... with
Dad-"
"Thanks, Bill. Obviously I must've forgotten that our father was murdered. Must
be the festive atmosphere." Ginny pulled at her black woolen skirt as if to
twirl it around, but the excess starch kept it board-stiff and perfectly
pleated.
Bill said, "How did you get to be so cold?"
"Maybe because I had to fight off an evil spirit all on my own for ten months
while my brothers ignored me completely, just as they always do."
"I wasn't here for that," he replied. "In fact I recall speaking to you at
length when you all came to Egypt. I had to make sure your head was screwed on
straight."
"Had to go to you, though, didn't I? You couldn't be bothered to make the trip
home yourself. 'Oh, Ginny got possessed by the Dark Lord? Well, a plaster and
kiss on the noggin ought to do for that!' And the second we had to leave, you
patted my head and goosed me on my way, never to write or visit again!"
Harry had the good sense to back out of that argument on the pretext of
refilling his mug of cider, wherever it was. Unfortunately, this wasn't the
only argument now in process. It was like Percy's arrival was a lit fuse that
had finally burned its way to the powderkeg.
"... never trusted us ... "
"... it was a SPIDER! How is that funny? What made you think ..."
"... not my responsibility ..."
" ... abandon the family ..."
" ... and Fred always speaks first ... "
"... coddled me like an infant ..."
"... at least they thought about it..."
"... ran out as fast as you could! Never intending to ..."
"... treated Dad like an idiot... "
"... not two sickles for any of us... "
"... of course Bill's been out shtupping that French twist ..."
"... how you can call her loose when you ..."
"... gave up money for a way out ..."
"... humiliate us all ..."
"... accio wands ... "
Of course that last one only Harry could hear, as it was whispered by Hermione.
The moment after she'd run off to stash them, angry words were replaced with
shoving, and then with fists.
It occurred to Harry later that night, as he stared up at the ceiling in Ron's
room using only one eye since the other was swollen shut, that it wasn't
necessary for him to start throwing punches as well, but if he hadn't he
would've felt left out. If anything, getting clobbered by his quasi-family
helped to smash out the guilt he'd felt over being the cause of it all. When
Molly gave him the black eye, he'd nearly wept in gratitude.
And for some reason, he thought of Dobby.
[[[]]]
===============================================================================
In the morning they all descended to the kitchen, still bruised and swollen
from the night before. Only their mum was absent, the door to her bedroom still
closed.
Charlie asked Bill, "So... how's Fleur's accent coming along?"
Bill blushed but turned away. He muttered, "Seen Oliver lately?"
Hermione gasped.
Charlie chucked a candle at Bill's head.
George said, "That explains it."
"Explains what," replied Fred.
"Why he'd give up the Quidditch career for dragon handling - who'd want to
explain that to every groupie?"
Percy scoffed and said, "You didn't know?"
"How did you know?" said Ron. "No one tells me anything."
"Are we doing this again? Want to see blood on the walls? NO!" Harry bellowed,
"It's fucking Christmas. So, shut it! All of you!"
They all looked at Harry, but sank back into their individual sulks.
Ron muttered, "Is that a special kind of Christmas there, Harry?"
Hermione whinged, "Ron..." but the rest started snickering. They might have
laughed, but every one of them winced when they moved too abruptly.
The Floo fired up, heralding Mrs. Weasley's arrival, encumbered by sacks, her
arms full of wrapped gifts.
Charlie was the first to recover. "Mum... we thought you were still asleep!"
"On Christmas morning? Hah! Not since Bill turned three. Any other day of the
year I candepend on the majority of you having a lie-in, but if there's one
thing I've learned about being a Weasley it's to be suspicious of too much
quiet. As it was, I had to retrieve all the gifts I'd hidden at Headquarters in
case our holiday was spent there. Now, what has all of you so long in the
face?"
George offered, "Harry was just saying it's Fuc-"
Harry stood suddenly from his chair. "Hang on- I do have something to say.
Something important."
Mrs. Weasley set her burdens down on the table and sat attentively on the bench
beside her daughter.
"I know that I asked most of you already to join me in my fight. I don't think
you or I, any of us, knew how costly that might be." He imagined seeing the
reminder of the cost laying heavily on all their shoulders, like tar. "I don't
want to cost you anything more. I think you should all step back from the
Underground Army thing. Be a family. It's what you do best."
Molly rose and gave him a gentle hug, murmuring, "Oh, you sweet boy."
She then stepped back and smacked the back of his head.
"The Weasleys stand together with you, because you arefamily. If you think for
one moment that we won't be right there fighting alongside you when you kill
that monster, you're in for a re-think."
Bill said, "Mum, are you talking about the snake?"
"Oh, that bitch snake - 'Nagini', was it?"
Harry nodded. That was the name Riddle had used for the snake in his vision
prior to the Quidditch World Cup.
"It'll be stripped, grilled and served to the Wizengamot with a dressing of
Doxycide if I have my way, but I was referring to... Voldemort."
"Mum," Ron marveled, "you said the name!"
"Vole. Dee. Morrr... tuh. Silly, stupid name. Fred, George; you pride
yourselves on being funny. I dare you to make that name - Voldemort - into a
laughingstock in the eyes of the public."
Harry grinned. "Hols likes to call him Riddle; that's his muggle father's
name."
"He's a half-blood?" Molly's voice had risen in disbelief. "Why doesn't anyone
ever mention that?"
Ron said, "Well, they'd have to be brave enough to say the name first before
they could spread nasty rumours about him, true or not."
Molly waved her arms around, proclaiming, "That will be quite enough of talking
about people that we don't like, for the rest of the day. Let's have a proper
Christmas."
Perhaps compared to a normal Weasley festivity, it was bit subdued, but they
gave heartfelt looks of appreciation for the gifts given and received. When
they wanted to thank their father for something, they'd turn to the mantel over
the fireplace, where his spoon from the family clock was propped upright in a
toothbrush holder.
[[[]]]
===============================================================================
At dawn of Boxing Day, they were again gathered in fine robes, this time to
peer into the foggy marsh surrounding the Burrow, awaiting a delivery. Two men
in black robes arrived guiding a cart carrying Arthur's enshrouded body to the
front gate. The two gentlemen then assisted with positioning the cart behind
the garden by the base of the main chimney, where they propped him at a slight
tilt for display. They took a look around, trying to find their path out
through the thick fog before deciding to just pick a direction and go.
Molly, with Hermione's assistance, brought out a few decorations and swapped
out Arthur's funerary shroud for his favorite robe and waistcoat outfit. Each
of the family members stepped up to whisper something into an ear, then stood
in a line beside the cart. Harry and Hermione stood a few steps off from Ginny.
Harry whispered to Hermione, "What'd you decide to say?"
"Couldn't think of anything, so I kissed his cheek. How about you?"
"I said I was sorry."
Molly then muttered something.
Harry felt a wave of grief pass through him and drain out through his toes.
Left behind was just a calm, not unlike a mild Cheering Charm. He could see all
the Weasleys lose some tension from their shoulders.
Amos Diggory came around the side of the building just then. "Are we ready to
accept mourners yet?"
Molly said, "Oh come in, Amos, come in! You're the first, I'm sure."
"I'm sure I'm not, and that's why I had to intrude. You see, there's quite a
gathering out there waiting for you. I've set up some tables, and Xeno Lovegood
is out there duplicating chairs, though he seems rather particular about where
each one should be placed. There are at least three staked on the ice covering
your pond."
Molly blushed. "I... I forgot. I shrouded the house late Christmas Eve so that
none of you would wander off before we could come together as a family again."
With a wave of her wand the fog dissipated, revealing two dozen or more people
in their orchard. They were busy setting up a marquee, several tables and
otherwise preparing for the reception of guests. The two men who had brought
the cart headed off toward the now-visible car path, disapparating once they
were just past the gate.
Visitors began to trickle in soon after. The first batch were their other
neighbors and members of the extended Weasley family, but soon enough there
were associates and co-workers and families of friends, and fellow students as
well. Many brought food - potluck for the day or wrapped packages of food for
later. There were a few gifts and many scrolls and letters left in a basket
someone had conjured.
Harry was more intrigued by a third depository table around the side of the
house that was accumulating various small objects, with a written tag tied to
each. At first, given the seemingly mundane and innocuous nature of the
objects, he thought they might be used portkeys like he'd seen at the World
Cup. Instead he was surprised to find gold and silver watches, brass devices,
carved wooden boxes and the occasional distended envelope with something more
than a letter inside.
He picked one up and read its tag:
'My tiepin. It was enchanted to ring like a bell at dawn, hoot for lunch,
whistle for tea, & clap for the end of the work-day. Never realised Arthur was
the one who made it so. Loved it before, would appreciate it again. ~ R.
Perkins'
Molly surprised him when she spoke. "You can see it either way, really. Are
they being selfish to ask for something to be re-enchanted, or is it just a
reminder and thanks of the good that he'd done for them? There is no guarantee
of return so if the bauble is worth something, it's a kind way to give us - the
bereaved - a little extra help without making it seem like charity. Most of the
watches will be those."
Harry picked up another packet and read the label.
'Silk purse. Used to double any coins or gems put into it. Saved me from
begging on the street more than once. Swear on Merlin. ~ M. Fletcher.'
Molly read the tag over his shoulder. "And then there are the scurrilous cads
who will try to get a free enchantment out of our sentimental nature. Toss that
one into the fire, dear. I doubt the purse is even made of silk."
[[]]
===============================================================================
The gathering grew in size, spreading out to fill the garden, the orchard, the
pond and down the lane towards Ottery St. Catchpole. Many people who had
arrived just past the sunrise were still there by midday, as if they wouldn't
leave until told to do so. Harry was sitting with Ron when he asked him about
it.
"It was like this when we lost Uncle Bilius. They come until they feel everyone
expected has arrived, then they shuffle off. I s'pose it's meant to show how
much someone will be missed."
"And you're suppposed to just... mingle all day?"
"Some people like to make a speech, but no one has to." Ron nodded towards a
makeshift podium where a wizened old warlock was babbling about bendy billiard
cues.
Harry stood up. He had no reason to do it. No one had asked him. Being the
center of attention certainly wasn't his favorite thing, but in this case, for
this man, he'd discovered a need to speak.
He strode over to the podium. A minute later, the man noticed Harry waiting and
hurriedly ended his reminiscence with, "Ah, Arthur, I'll miss you."
The warlock nodded to Harry while tapping his own throat with his wand, and
then walked off. Harry took his position.
"Sonorous." He felt a swelling in his throat. It didn't obstruct anything but
was an odd sensation nonetheless. "Uhh... hi. You may not know me but I'm Harry
Potter."
Harry looked up at the crowd and suddenly was caught by waves of pressure that
seemed to be coming from them. Every person there was looking at him, and there
were a few hundred at least. Emotions were rolling at him in discordant tones
and rhythms and it made him dizzy for a moment, until he could center his mind.
Once he'd caught his breath, he re-invoked the Harry he wanted to be at that
moment, then spoke.
"I haven't known Arthur Weasley for as long as most of you. In fact, he could
only convince me to call him Arthur a few months ago. But I'm absolutely blown
away - I mean, overwhelmed.
"There are so many people here today. I mean, I knew that Arthur was a nice
guy. Very pleasant. Able to put even a really nervous kid like me at ease by
asking an odd question about the meaning and function of a rubber duck." Harry
chortled, but then took a drink of water to cover for it. "That was Arthur to
me- the man who couldn't quite understand muggles, even though they fascinated
him. It's no surprise that he would make it his job to protect them from jinxes
and the like.
"A nice man, was Arthur. Mind you, the rest of the family is a bit batty... ,"
he paused to allow some titters to subside, "but Arthur never minded that. I
think he liked that about them.
"Yet that doesn't explain all of you being here."
Harry paused again to change the tone of his delivery to something more
forceful.
"Nice men die all the time. They die at home or in hospital or when falling
victim to something, whether accidental or, uh, malicious. Nice men like that
are missed. Their family grieves for them, and friends offer a pat on the back
and shot of whisky and the usual, 'Ahh, whatsisname- he was a nice fellow.
Cheers.'"
Harry noticed something in the corner of his eye; the previous speaker was
grumping a bit. Harry gave him a nod to apologise for using him as an example.
"That doesn't explain all of you coming here. I think the difference is that
Arthur Weasley was a good man. Good. Loving, kind, patient with his family and
with strangers. Good with a quick joke. Willing to offer advice, but wouldn't
be offended if you chose to ignore it. Arthur spoke as quietly as needed but
firmly when necessary. He represented his ideals in his every action.
"That's why you're all here. He was a Good man. And I think you're also here
for the same reason I am; there's a hole where Arthur was. I... I'm going to
miss him. You will, too. Because he won't be there to add his honest opinion
any more. His jokes will need to be told by someone else. Someone else will
need to disarm the traps and protect the unwary and say nice things to
strangers... and calm down frightened young boys with a silly question.
"That's what I wanted to point out. Missing him isn't enough. We need to carry
on with his work. If you came here to find a way to deal with the loss of
Arthur Weasley, here it is; be him, every once in a while. Add the intentions
of a Good man to your life, for Arthur. I don't know how many of you will do
it, but let me say that if just a tenth of you strove to add a good Arthur-like
deed every once in a while... well, we might be able to keep up with all the
good that Arthur Weasley couldhave done, that he can't do now that he's gone.
"As for me, I've already vowed to do my 'Arthur'-best to improve the lives of
those around me, starting with his family. Starting with this speech."
Harry was tempted to stop there. He probably should have, but...
"There's one thing, though. One un-Arthurish thing that I feel I have to do."
He felt the tone of the audience change in response- a hint of curiosity. He
could feel their attention building towards him. He let it collect for a few
seconds.
"I'm going to track down the creature that did this to Arthur and burn it until
it screams," Harry declared, "And I'll keep burning him until he can't scream
any more."
The rage was kept in control. He let the heat simmer away from his face and
consciously relaxed his shoulders.
"Thank you," he said, invoked a silent Quietus, and then left the podium for
the next speaker to have their say.
Of course, he had no idea who came after him as he was enveloped in Weasleys
soon after.
[[]]
===============================================================================
Harry noted a peculiar behavior in most of the people approaching him later
that day. Despite being much older than him, they all apologised for
interrupting him.
They shook his hand. More than a few of them said something to the effect of,
'Let me know if you need any help for that hunt of yours.'
He was trying to keep a tally of names with faces and handshakes in the back of
his head. Amos Diggory, of course; old Algie Longbottom; Josiah Plunkett;
Augustus Pye - the healer from St. Mungo's who had tried to save Arthur; Arnie
Peasegood; Dirk Cresswell; Violetta Hobday (though her husband seemed a bit
less enthusiastic about the prospect).
A notable exception to this courtesy was a quartet of Aurors led by Kingsley
Shacklebolt. He didn't recognise the other two, introduced as Gawain Robards
and Niles Proudfoot, but Tonks was the fourth, hanging behind, looking guilty.
"Mr. Potter," said Kingsley, "you and the Weasleys had a lot of trouble over
this holiday."
"Yes. We did."
"That trouble also resulted in the death of a number of well-known people;
highly-valued people."
Auror Robards continued, "Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones is
not pleased. Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour is not pleased."
Niles smiled and shook Harry's hand. "But that's all."
The rest of the Aurors walked off, but Tonks lingered, her hands stuck in her
back pockets. She wouldn't look him in the eye.
"How 'bout you, Tonks?"
"M'not happy, either."
"Yeah," Harry replied solemnly.
"But that's what war is about, isn't it?"
"So I'm told."
She let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah. I'm still in with the Underground Army if
you'll have me; because it's the right side. Not chuffed to be following you,
you nutter. You truly are starting to frighten me."
"Why?"
Tonks voice rose in reply; "Maybe 'cause you don't seem all that upset
following your recent murderous ramp-"
Harry shushed her.
"... rampage." She had dropped her voice, but the anger was still evident.
"Just... do you really know what the hell you're doing?"
"No!" he coughed out. "I've got a tight hold on my head right now, because this
day is for the Weasleys. As for the rest, I'm willing to listen if you've got
some ideas about what else I should do. About earlier, at Azkaban? I was told
that Riddle was going to break his people out of there, and I knew no one would
be able to stop him. I wanted to make sure he paid dearly for that victory."
"You did that," she said.
Harry took a moment to cool down, then asked, "Why didn't you warn the other
Aurors?"
"And what could I tell them?" Tonks protested. "You didn't really know what was
going to happen. I honestly thought you and Snape'd get caught out or that this
supposed attack would turn out to be some sort of sneaky switch or something.
For Riddle to just... break the prison itself never even occurred to me, and if
I'd gone out there to my colleagues, yelling for them all to prepare for it,
what could they do?"
They fell into a silence for a bit.
"Conjure a really big mitt?" Harry suggested.
"Maybe a waterslide," said Tonks, "something to roll it away."
"Or just a well-placed wicket the size of the Tower Bridge."
"I can hear it now; 'We're under attack! Summon the Colossus of Rhodes and tell
him to bring his cricket bat!'"
They collapsed into each other in laughter, ending up kneeling on the ground.
Harry let out a last chuckle. "So, am I forgiven?"
Tonks looked him in the eyes. "No."
"No?"
She gave him a quick size-up, then said, "No. You're a twelve-stone sack of
trouble, and I'm keeping my eye on you." She then stood up to stroll away.
"Be sure you watch my left side," he said, "it's the better one."
Tonks said over her shoulder, "No, Potter, that'd be your backside. The one I
will kick soon, mark my words."
[[]]
===============================================================================
Dumbledore came for the wake near twilight. He first approached Molly, spending
several minutes in quiet discussion and consolement. While Molly appeared more
upset by the end of it, she was nodding and thanking the old wizard.
It took several minutes for the headmaster to weave his way through the crowd
to where Harry was, by which point Harry decided that their conversation should
be more private. He led their way around the chicken coop, out of sight of the
main congregation.
"I don't want to hear it, sir."
"Harry, please. Sit with me a moment." Dumbledore pointed towards a weathered
bench by the briar hedge that in warm months would separate the chickens from
the vegetables.
Harry sat down on the bench.
The professor joined him, but he sat upright, taking a minute to observe the
wall of the coop, the frozen ground, the light reflecting off the first flakes
of a coming snowfall. Finally he said, "It is a terrible thing; to lose someone
you know and respect."
"Yessir."
Dumbledore asked, "How are you faring?"
"Fine?" Harry replied, almost incredulous.
"What I mean is, are you having difficulty bearing the burden; for the lives
that you have taken?"
"Oh, that. I've had nightmares," Harry said, "but not because I feel guilty. I
just... keep seeing how they died. It was a fairly ugly business. Those moments
are burned into my eyes."
Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder, gripping almost too tightly.
"Harry," he said in the most grandfatherly tone imaginable, "Well done."
"Err... what?"
"I am astounded. Not only because you were right and I was wrong, but the
planning, the execution, the outcome... it was a rout!"
"But we lost Arthur, sir."
The Headmaster sighed.
"Yes we did," he said, accompanied by rueful nodding. "I grieve with you all.
The man was a - ," but he then sat back with a look of concern. He reached over
to grasp Harry's shoulder again. "Now hold on, there. Are you thinking that
Arthur died because you went to Azkaban?"
"Well... yeah."
"And did the rain come because you were upset? Did your sneeze make the leaves
drop from the tree? No, Harry. Arthur died because he was doing what he was
supposed to be doing; defending the Ministry. He was attacked by a dangerous
creature in the course of that duty. Now, if you had an anti-venin particular
to the snake who had attacked him and didn't offer it up, I might blame you."
"Couldn't Fawkes have helped him?"
"I did ask him, and he tried."
Since Arthur still died, obviously that wasn't enough. "Thank him for me."
"Of course. But really, Harry; do not deny Arthur his due. It may be far
earlier than he had planned, but it was a good death, as much as such things
can be called good. His family is cared for and his children are all well on
the road to becoming good people, good wizards. Even... the son he adopted."
From the other side of the hedge Ginny exclaimed, "Ron's adopted?"
"Yeah," Ron retorted, "Didn't you know? I'm actually a Dumbledore."
"It all makes sense now," added the twins.
Harry turned to see the four youngest of the family standing there with the
same grin on their faces.
Harry groused, "Is privacy not a privilege in this family?"
"We were watching your back," Ron explained, "And the adopted thing? Yeah,
getting privacy is an ongoing war when you have siblings. You lost this
battle."
"Should I concede?"
Four redheads traded looks of confusion. Ron said, "You're never going to learn
anything about being sneaky that way."
Dumbledore smiled at them, then turned back to Harry. "Aside from expressing
the sorrow that I share with you for the loss of a great, great man, I'm here
to warn you about the coming term."
Harry sat up as the others gathered around the bench.
The headmaster said, "With Arthur no longer acting as our man in the Ministry,
I need to reach out to a number of people who I feel might be agreeable to our
position. This will take me away from the school more often."
"Honestly, I don't see that as making much of a difference, sir," Harry said,
"You've been mostly absent all term."
Albus gave him a grudging nod. "Unlike last term, Madam Umbridge will know that
I won't be around. She also knows about the truth underneath the story of the
battle at Azkaban. As you heard from the Aurors, those in the know are aware
that you have fought Voldemort once again, that he lost some troops to your
wand and that you once again escaped his vengeance. Dolores's desire to squelch
your influence will no doubt be greater than ever."
"What are you suggesting, sir? I wasn't going to brag about it but I'm not
going to stay quiet - not anymore."
Dumbledore took a moment to appraise him. Harry considered whether knowing the
man's thoughts would make him feel better or worse, and decided he was happier
coming to his own conclusions about them.
"Don't do anything to get yourself or your friends expelled," the headmaster
warned. "That means you must never cast spells against the staff, and nothing
Dark or lethal is to be used. Defend yourselves, of course. If you keep things
civil, we can protect you."
Harry was fairly sure his shocked expression matched those of the redheads in
their gathering.
Dumbledore stood up. "Now, I'm fairly certain that I was meant to give you some
other rules to abide by, but my mind has already dashed off onto the next task
in my day, and I fear I must run if I am to catch up to it." Dumbledore shook
each of their hands once more, then strode off to the edge of the yard before
Disapparating.
Ginny spoke first; "Did he just -?"
"You heard the man," answered Harry, "no spells against staff, nothing lethal."
Ron began to protest, "Yeah, but-"
"Aside from that," Harry added, "... anything goes."
Fred and George shared a look, then said in tandem, "Anything?"
"The staff clearly can't do shite, so it's up to us to impose justice. I want
people to regret supporting Umbridge. I want anyone feeling the boot of the
Inquisitor on their back to be coming to us for help. We're taking control of
Hogwarts."
From outside their huddle came a challenging, "Oh you are, are you?"
They all stood up straight and turned to face Hermione. Harry registered her
haughty expression.
"Yes. We are."
Hermione blinked several times, and then said, "I... I may have some notions
about how best to do that."
Harry noted that the others were giving her looks of surprise, except for
George. He was nodding and grinning.
[[[]]]
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