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ELEVEN PRETTY PLEASE

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       HOLLY'S FULLY AWARE that what she's doing, in the eyes of her friends, is nearing on illegal. To them, it's a criminal offence, the fact that she's ditching them after school and specifically requesting that they let her sit on her own in the library — "So I don't have any distractions, I want to figure out this egg by Christmas." They bought into it, because it's reasonable of her to want some peace and quiet, considering every time she goes with her friends to the library, she gets side-tracked and ends up gossiping with Pansy instead of actually working.

       But, then, Holly likes to add that yeah, she probably should be writing her Potions essay instead of talking to Pansy about arguments that happened between "Potter" and Draco two years ago, but, she's also learning. She's trying to catch up on three years of school that she's missed, in regards to arguments and things that happened. Like, that time a criminal broke into the school? She only found out about that last week.

       She takes a seat at a desk further into the library, as Susannah floats off to keep an eye out for Harry. Holly's beginning to realise how stupid this idea of hers was, because shit, if her friends ever find out that she essentially told them to leave her alone, so that she could spend time with Harry Potter, they'd probably never speak to her again. Well. Draco would have to, he's her step-cousin, and she feels like Harlow would be forgiving, but the others? They'd hate her forever.

       Because not only did she ditch them for someone else, he happens to be a Gryffindor, and not just any Gryffindor — oh, no. He's Harry Potter. The one that's been in a rivalry with Draco ever since the start of their first year. This is practically treason.

       "Your friend's here!" shouts Susannah. Holly keeps the book on various dragon eggs out, in case it actually becomes any use to her. Most likely, it will not, because nothing seems to be of use when it comes to solving this stupid golden egg. But, she leaves it out, just in case, and makes her way to the library doors, where she sees Harry standing around.

       He spots her, and walks over to her. She's careful to stay near the bookshelves, as if that'll help her not be seen by anyone in a green uniform like hers. As soon as he walks up to her, Holly smiles apologetically, and says, "Can we maybe sit away from people? My friends would, um, kill me if they knew I was with you?"

       "Um, OK," says Harry.

       "I mean, it's nothing personal, I think you're nice," she says, as she starts walking back to where she was sitting. Really, even if he were to say no, she would start moving in the direction of where she wanted to sit, anyway. She asked if it was okay, but it wasn't exactly a question — it was more her acting as if he had a choice. And, since she likes her friends and she doesn't want them to hate her, he does not. "But they... Well, they think you're terrible, but anyway."

       "Yeah, erm, I don't really get on with them," says Harry.

       "I'm aware," says Holly. "Although, they've never said why—?"

       "I sort-of chose Ron over Malfoy at the start of first year," says Harry.

       "Oh," she says. "Well that makes sense."

       Harry frowns. "It does?"

       "Well, yeah, because the one time Pansy almost told me what happened to start your whole rivalry with Draco, she mentioned your friend — I think she did, anyway, she called him a blood-traitor, and I suppose that must be him, because they've got another name for Hermione," says Holly. She pauses, because as she says this aloud, she realises how terrible her friends sound. But, as she gets back to the desk she claimed, sitting down, she sees Harry grimace.

       "Yeah, I know about that," says Harry. He frowns at her, as he sits down. "It's because his family's Pureblood but they weren't Death Eaters, and his dad works in part of the Ministry to do with muggles, I think."

       "Oh," says Holly. She smiles awkwardly. "Well, I think that muggles are cool, if that helps. I mean, my mum didn't — she really didn't, she probably hated them, actually — but my dad likes them!" Because he is one! Surprise!

       "That's — nice," says Harry, looking a little confused. She can't help it. She feels a little guilty mentioning her mum, because she was working for the man that killed Harry's parents. Sure, her mum's later epiphany means that she's in Azkaban, feeling terribly guilty, but that doesn't mean her previous actions have been forgotten. They have not. And Holly can feel the second-hand guilt gnawing at her insides.

       Holly, in that second, remembers what Pansy said about Harry's mum. Lily Potter. Apparently she was a muggleborn — and as soon as Holly remembers this, she panics a little more. So she thinks ask him a question, then the focus is off me, and she frowns for a second, before she glances at him. "If, um, your parents—" She doesn't know how to word the sentence properly. Once she mentions his parents, he looks like he's preparing himself for an argument, which she doesn't want. "I can't think of a polite way to put it, but — where'd you live? After your parents died."

       "With my aunt and uncle," he says. The look on his face has gone completely, which she's thankful about. Now he's grimacing. She figures his aunt and uncle aren't the nicest. "And my cousin, Dudley. He's the same age as us."

       "Are they nice?" she asks, and she feels like a five-year-old, asking if they're nice. It sounds silly to ask, but then, it's not like she can turn around and ask if they're terrible, because that's what her brain's suspecting, thanks to an expression he made literally for two seconds.

       "Not really," he says. "Why'd you ask?"

       "I just wondered," says Holly, shrugging. "I won't tell anyone, don't worry, I'd get killed by my friends for even speaking to you. I was just wondering... Pansy was saying that you were raised by muggles, so you went to a primary school, right?"

       Harry opens his mouth to respond, but then it seems to click in his mind. He looks at her in confusion. "How do you know about primary schools?" he asks.

       "I went to one," she says, although hesitantly at first. "My dad didn't want me to wait until I was eleven to go to school. He thought my brain would turn to mush if I didn't go as soon as I could." This is partly true. If he had taken the advice of Dumbledore, back when he sent the strange wizard a letter and the aforementioned professor appeared on his doorstep, she probably would've stayed out of school until she was eleven. But by that point, her brain would've been scrambled by years of doing nothing but watch The Jetsons on television.

       She probably would've gone to Hogwarts, too, but originally her dad's thought was this — her mum went there, her mum was a little evil, her mum warned them of Hogwarts, and therefore, he was not allowing Holly anywhere near the school. Like, to the point that Holly's never been to Scotland. He worried that the wizards would abduct her, like they were aliens.

       (Her dad doesn't know much about wizards.)

       "Although, I haven't told my friends that," she says, frowning slightly. "So I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it... They don't really like muggles, shockingly enough."

       "Yeah, I know," says Harry.

       Holly frowns at him for a minute, before narrowing her eyes slightly. "I've got a feeling that most of it's because of their parents, anyway," she says, lowering her voice a little. He looks surprised that she's telling him this, and she gets that, but her thought is that if he tells anyone, they're not going to believe him. If her friends find out from him, she can lie. No one thinks that they're friends, no one's going to believe it if this gets back to her friends. And it won't, because Susannah's watching the nearby areas of the library.

       "What d'you mean?" he says.

      "Well, most of the stuff they talk about — a lot of the nasty stuff follows them saying something like 'oh, my father said this,'" says Holly. She shrugs, fully aware of the frown on Harry's face, as he listens to her. It's nice to get this off of her chest. She also hopes that if she opens up and says something like this, he'll be a bit less... cagey. Maybe he'll speak more. It worked with Pansy, telling her a little secret... That, and Holly's (a) from Durmstrang and (b) Draco's cousin, so. "It just makes me wonder. Normally people get those views from either their friends or their parents, and it seems to be that they've gotten it from their family, and they all encourage each other."

       "But you don't?" says Harry. "You don't... support Voldemort, or anything—?"

       Holly smiles at him. "I happen to think Voldemort's a prat."

      Harry smiles back at her. Holly feels like this is some sort of success, because it isn't just a polite smile. It's the sort of smile she gets from Pansy, or Harlow. The smile you give to a friend.

       "I suppose you feel the same," says Holly. "What with being the chosen one, and all."

      He rolls his eyes, but again, it's not the way she did it yesterday, when he encouraged Dobby to talk about the Malfoys. It's in the way you'd do it towards a friend, if they made a remark that isn't really offensive, because you're friends.

       Holly can't stop smiling.

—✧—✧—✧—✧—

       HOLLY WALKS BACK to her common room about half an hour before curfew begins. There's still the faintest smile on her face, because although she didn't exactly get further in understanding the golden egg, she got to speak to a friend, and that's just as important to her. This is the same reason she has such difficulty doing homework when she's with her friends around — in her mind, they're equally important (often, the scales tip and her friends become far more important than some piece of homework) because yeah, she didn't manage to revise, or do homework, but she got to be with her friends.

       She decides to go into her dorm room, to grab her pyjamas and get ready for bed in the girls' bathroom. But, as she enters her dorm room, she finds her friends standing around. Arms are crossed and on hips, brows are furrowed, and immediately, Holly stops.

       "Um, what are you—?"

      "I'm going to kill you, Holly! You know Violet from the year below?" says Pansy. Holly glances at the others for some help, but they all simply frown at her. Pansy scoffs. "That's what I thought. 'Course you don't know her, we're not important, are we? I bet you'd rather be in that dastardly tower, along with your new best friend!"

       "I — what?"

       "Violet saw you and Potter in the library," says Pansy. Holly would wince, but, the three years at Durmstrang are still present in her behaviour, and she continues to look at Pansy, no expression on her face. "So are you friends now? You know what they do to people, don't you? They get them involved in selfish attempts to save the world, to show off and pretend to be selfless heroes—"

       Holly has a moment. She's spent her entire life being told by her dad, 'always tell the truth.' And she tries her best, she really does. But, she learnt the hard way at Durmstrang that that doesn't always work. She can't tell her friends that she's also friends with Harry, she can obviously tell that they're against the idea. And maybe she can mend this whole situation, and she can start to lay the bricks, make them warm up to the idea of them being friends. Every so often, she can say something nice about him — a little voice in her head says that won't be difficult, which greatly confuses her — and maybe they'll be okay with her being friends with him. By seventh year, but it's better than never, right?

       "Fine," says Holly, and she forces a sigh. Pansy looks triumphant. A voice in Holly's head goes not for long. "I was in the library with Potter — but obviously I wasn't going to tell you, it's embarrassing! He mentioned the golden egg and I wanted to see if he knew anything else, so I went with him, but I haven't found anything out. There was no use in going, and all of that listening to him go on and on about his family was for nothing!"

       "Oh," says Pansy.

       "So I'm sorry, I really am, but I didn't want to go with him," she says. She sits at the foot of her bed, shaking her head and creating a look of defeat. She looks up, and she notices the dramatic change in her friends' facial expressions. They've gone from angry to sad. As if it hurts their hearts, hearing that she had to speak to Harry. "But I just — I want to win this tournament so badly, and I thought I saw an opportunity. Obviously not. I just wasted two hours of my life."

       "I told you, Pansy!" says Daphne, grumbling. She sits on the bed, next to Holly, and puts her arms around her. "You know how they're horrible to us — we should've waited to hear your side, but when you hear these things, you automatically assume the worst. We'll think twice next time, all right? Sorry, Hol."

       "If anything," says Millicent, grimacing. "We should've known."

      "Yeah," says Tracey. She pulls a look of disgust. "Who would willingly spend more time with Potter?"

       "Or any Gryffindor for that matter," says Millicent.

       Holly smiles softly. "Thanks, you guys, for understanding."

      Daphne, who had rested her head on Holly's shoulder, moves her head up. Holly guesses that she's looking over at Pansy, who still has her arms crossed. Pansy looks at Holly for a minute, and Holly tries her best to look as convincing as possible. She watches Pansy sigh, moving closer to give Holly a hug.

      "I'm sorry, Hol," she says. "We should've known — I should've known. Of course you weren't willingly talking to him! We should've known our Holly would find a way to trick Potter! It's genius! Taking what he knows and using it against him — to beat him!"

       Holly forces a look of disgust, her lips twisting. "He didn't even know anything!" she says, trying her best to sound defeated and upset. "It was all for nothing! Now I know that he went to primary school, this weird muggle school for young children — what use is that?"

       Pansy looks truly heartbroken, as if that's the worst thing she's ever heard. She hugs Holly again, and quickly, Holly feels two more pairs of arms wrap themselves around her. She's feels terrible, because not only did she lie, but she made them feel guilty. And not because it's unjust, how they hate Harry. No, she manipulated her friends. She feels like she's back at Durmstrang. Sooner or later, she'll be asked by a teacher to spy on students they deem to be performing suspicious activities, students against the terror the school's cursed with.

       She wasn't embarrassed, being in the library with Harry. She was worried, yes, but because she didn't want her friends to find out, and get angry at her, and hate her for it. For a minute, she thought that they did. And she can't screw this up now, she's only just gotten here. It's a miracle she was able to get out of it then; it's a miracle she was able to think of a lie that quickly, and pretend that it was emotionally draining, being with Harry.

       It wasn't. She admits that she really enjoyed herself, actually. She likes making friends, and she likes it when people say anecdotes, because there's a certain magic in the way people talk about things they've experienced. It's not the same as when they talk about things they're interested in, but it's still nice to hear.

        And yeah, a lot of the stuff he mentioned wasn't particularly nice, but it was interesting. It was sides to stories she's been told by her friends, but obviously their view's different to his. Like, the Chamber of Secrets, and the basilisk, and Tom Riddle, all of which still being incredibly mind-boggling to her, how that all happened at a school. Or, what happened with Quirrell, the Defence Against professor from their first year. Or Dobby. Or even the Quidditch World Cup — her friends didn't know about this one, but it was interesting. Now she knows why Winky's always upset.

       So Holly sighs.

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       A COUPLE DAYS pass, and the ever-present homesickness begins to grow in Holly's stomach. She walks to breakfast with Harlow, and she frowns. "If I sent a letter to my dad, surely he'll only take a couple days, tops, to reply?" she says. "He normally replies quickly."

       "He might be busy with work," says Harlow. They pass a couple Slytherins from a couple years below, proudly wearing badges declaring their support for her in the tournament. She smiles at them, and says hello quickly, before walking away next to Harlow. "You said he's high up in the American Ministry."

       "Yeah, I suppose so," she says. She wishes she had the courage to tell him the truth about her dad. Or one of her friends, or that matter. It would be nice, if she didn't have to constantly pretend that her father was this amazing wizard working in the MACUSA. She thinks he's amazing, sure, but he's certainly not a wizard. His attitude to moving schools proves that alone.

       As they sit down in the hall, the owls start to appear. Harlow nudges Holly and smiles at her. "Fingers crossed one's from your dad, yeah?" he says. She smiles back at him, and she opens her mouth to agree, but a letter lands in front of her. "See! To Holly Lippincott — that's you!"

       Holly grins at him, and opens the letter, carelessly ripping the envelope apart.

       Holly,

       You're doing tremendously at the tournament, Hol! I'm so proud of you. Dumbledore's been very kind and he's been sending me news about the tournament — he sent that first article Rita Skeeter wrote about you (you looked beautiful in the picture!) — and I cannot be prouder! You know I'll always tell you to try your best, but you know what, Hol? I bet, with the ways things are going, you'll be bound to win. I wish I could've been there for the first task, truly, but I was worried, in case me being a muggle complicated anything for you at school.

       (And before you complain — I know you've said that Hogwarts isn't like Durmstrang, but I can't help but worry. I just want the best for you.)

       I'm sorry that you won't be able to come home for Christmas, and although I hate that I've got to ask you this through a letter, but I really want to pass this by you before I do anything.

       You see, I'm thinking of proposing to Eugene. I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I'm planning to do it soon, but I want to make sure that you're okay with it first. I knows that you get along well with him, but I still want to ensure that you're happy with this. If you don't want me to, that's completely fine, but please let me know.

       That being said, I hope you have a great Christmas with all of your friends — and I'm sure that your friends will eventually warm up to Harry, I doubt a house rivalry can be that big of a deal. Let me know about dress robes, and what I should do with your Christmas presents. (And also if you're okay with the proposal.)

       Lots of love,

      Dad

       Holly folds the letter quickly, so that no one can see the fact that he mentions a certain someone. She grins at Harlow, and she grabs a piece of toast, tearing a chunk off with her teeth as she scrawls on a piece of parchment.

       PROPOSE PROPOSE PROPOSE PROPOSE PROPOSE also what is this about staying at school over Christmas and also why am I getting dress robes BUT PROPOSE PLEASE AND CAN IT BE IN HAWAII I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO GO

       Lots of love,

       Holly xxxx

       (Please propose.)

       She crosses out her address on the envelope and repurposes it, writing her dad's address and shoving the rushed letter into the envelope, handing it back to Owl. As her owl flies back off, Holly turns to Harlow, grinning brightly.

       "That was from my dad!"

       "I figured," says Harlow, smiling slightly.

       "He's going to propose!" says Holly, and she holds onto Harlow's arm. She cannot contain her excitement. The hall could collapse around her and she'd still be over the moon. "He has this amazing boyfriend called Eugene and finally he's planning to propose to him! Oh my God, Harlow, this is amazing!"

       "Well, I hope he says yes!" says Harlow.

      "Of course he will!" says Holly. "My dad's wonderful! If it wasn't for me, he would've gotten married by now — it's just that most people got freaked because he had a little kid, but Eugene didn't! He was super nice to me and he always gets me little gifts when he travels with work—!"

       Shit.

      Wizards don't have pilots. She's got to make up some position in the Ministry, pretend that he travels all of the time because of that... Holly smiles at Harlow again, and chooses to just leave it at that. She eats her breakfast, beaming.

       The rest of the morning flies by. All Holly wants to do is get a letter back from her dad. She knows he won't propose this quickly, but still, she's so excited. She's known Eugene for years, and he's always been lovely to her. Even when, during the summer, she and her dad finally came clean to him and told him about Holly being a witch, he was completely fine with it. At first, he was a little confused and thought it was a joke, but they luckily told him on the same day Dumbledore visited, so he could talk to her dad about Holly moving schools, so he quickly believed them. Now he thinks it's super cool.

       At the end of Transfiguration, Holly begins to pack away, excited to tell her other friends about the news. She wants them all to know about the possibility of her dad finally getting married to someone good, because she's ecstatic. She wants to jump and dance and sing along to upbeat Bowie songs.

       "Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention?"

       At the front of the classroom, McGonagall scowls at the two. Holly glances over her shoulder, to the side of the classroom most of the Gryffindors sit in the lesson. She notices that the houses tend to sit altogether, especially when the class consists of Gryffindors and Slytherins. Holly realises that the two must've been playing with some sort of joke-shop product, but she isn't sure. When she has the opportunity to go to Hogsmeade, her only concern is getting chocolate.

       "Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age," says McGonagall. Holly looks over her shoulder again, to where the two are standing, and for a minute she locks eyes with Harry. They both smile at each other. Holly turns back around, feeling even happier. She's made a friend! "I have something to say to you all."

       "The Yule Ball is approaching — a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialise with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above — although you may invite a younger student if you wish—"

       Harlow snorts. On the other side of the classroom, Lavender Brown starts to giggle. (Holly thinks it's Lavender Brown, at least. She's trying her best with names.)

       "Dress robes will be worn, and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then — the Yule Ball is of course for us all to, er, let our hair down, but that does not mean that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students," says McGonagall. Pansy glances over her shoulder to look at Holly, and Holly winks at her, causing Pansy to turn back around quickly, muffling a giggle. "I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

       "But we're cool, though," says Harlow, as the bell rings.

       Holly smirks at him. "If we have no rules — who d'you wanna murder?"

       Harlow laughs, and she swings her bag over her shoulder, about to leave. But, above the usual chatter of the students trying to leave the classroom, McGonagall loudly says, "Potter, Lippincott — a word, if you please."

       Holly pulls a face, and Harlow smiles at her. "I'll wait for you outside," he tells her. She smiles back at him, and she walks to the front of the classroom.

       McGonagall waits for the classroom to empty, before she tells the two, "The champions and their partners—"

       "What partners?" says Harry.

       "Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter," says McGonagall, her brows knitting together. It finally clicks, why her dad wanted to know about what dress robes she wanted... It takes another couple seconds for her to realise how her dad, being lovably clueless about the wizarding world, will let her get whatever dress she wants. "Your dance partners."

       "Dance partners?" says Harry. "I don't dance."

       "Oh yes, you do," says McGonagall. Holly begins to think about her own partner, and immediately, she thinks of Harlow. This may not be a task, but it's still a part of the tournament, so she needs to look good for this ball. And Harlow's well-liked, and he wants her to win, so he'll probably say yes. Hopefully. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball."

       Holly nods. To her side, Harry shakes his head.

       "I'm not dancing," he says.

       "It is traditional," says McGonagall. "You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Potter."

       "But — I don't —"

       "You heard me, Potter," says McGonagall. She looks at the two of them. Holly's waiting for when she can get outside and demand Harlow goes with her. "You can go now."

       Holly nods, and smiles politely, before turning around on her heel. She sets off, through the rows of desks, and she glances over her shoulder to Harry. "It can't be that bad," she tells him. "Besides, it'll be fun. You can dress up."

      "But how are we supposed to find a partner?" asks Harry, but Holly only nods, too preoccupied to fully listen. She's inches away from the door, and all she wants to do is make sure she has a partner. "Um, Holly—"

       But she's already stepped into the hallway, and rushed over to Harlow, who's waiting a little further down the corridor. "Please go with me," she says.

       "Yeah, OK," says Harlow. Holly grins at him, and he smirks back at her, stepping backwards. "Hold on, hold on, Hol, let me formally ask you, it'll be a laugh—" He pauses, and he gets down on one knee. Holly starts to laugh. "Holliday Lippincott, light of my life, the thief of my food and my heart but mostly my food — will you go to the ball with me?"

       Holly rolls her eyes, but goes along with it, grinning as she puts her hand on her heart. "Oh, Harlow, I would be honoured!" she says. Harlow laughs and gets back up, and she hugs him again. "Thank you — I know this isn't a proper task but it probably means something, you know?"

       "Yeah, I get it," says Harlow. "And let's be honest, with your partner looking like me, you're bound to win — even if you can't win, but you know—"

       "Yeah, I know what you mean," says Holly, laughing. She sees Harry about to walk past, and she frowns for a second. "Wait — H—Potter!"

       Harry stops, looking a little alarmed. Holly knows that Harlow's frowning at her, but she chooses to ignore this. "What were going to say?" she asks.

       "Oh, it doesn't matter," says Harry.

       Holly nods. "Oh, OK."

       Harry nods, and begins to walk off again. Holly turns back to Harlow, a frown on her face. That was weird... That was, wasn't it? What was he going to say, that he's now dismissed as unimportant?

       Susannah cackles. "I thought your house was green!" she exclaims, rolling around in the air. Holly glances over at her, confused, and Susannah smirks at her. "Your friend. He looked a little je—"

       "That was weird," says Harlow. "You're friends, right?"

       Holly narrows her eyes at him. "Depends on whether or not you'll tell the others."

       "Your secret's safe with me," says Harlow.

      She grins at him. "I actually love you."

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