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FIFTEEN "RATHER WONDERFUL"

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       HOLLY'S LATE TO breakfast a few weeks after the second task, thanks to her forgetting where she put her necklace — obviously not in her normal place, next to a book on her nightstand, she's scared she'll get strangled if she sleeps in it — and spending a solid twenty minutes searching high and low, until glancing towards the desk and seeing it, sitting right in the centre.

       She ends up spotting Harlow about to leave the hall and asking him to stay behind for a second, just so she can butter a couple slices of toast and eat them on the way to Potions. They leave the hall together, half a slice of toast already down Holly's throat.

       "It could be the stress of the tournament," says Harlow, as they pass a little group of students, wearing badges either supporting her or Cedric. She sees another group huddled around a magazine, giggling to each other. "Maybe you just forgot."

       "I suppose," says Holly, but she frowns still, wolfing down the last slice of toast. She's always thought that her memory's quite good... But, then, she supposes it's nothing major, is it? She guesses it's better for her, being sleepy last night, to forget where she placed her necklace rather than something important. "Why's everyone reading the same magazine?"

       She nods towards another couple of students, laughing as they hold onto a magazine, the same one as the group before. Harlow shrugs, and says, "Beats me."

       They reach the hallway around the corner from the Potions classroom and she hears Pansy, in-between a fit of giggles, let out, "There they are, there they are!" Harlow and Holly stop for a second, and exchange a confused look. "You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!"

       By the time they reach their friends, they're already being told to go into the classroom by Snape. Holly tries to walk ahead, to get to Pansy and ask what she's up to, but she's unable to push through the rest of their friends, and the Gryffindors trying to get into the classroom.

      Holly sits at the table next to Pansy, forcefully shoving Draco out of the way so that she can speak to her. Snape begins to speak before Holly can ask Pansy what's going on, so she figures that she'll ask the instant there's an opportunity to do so, before one of their friends can push in again.

       What has she missed? All of her friends keep on smirking and sneering at each other, all in the know about something she's seemed to have missed in, what, the twenty minutes she was alone in the dorm room? She doesn't get it.

      She dreads to think what her friends have conjured up this time, to make fun of one of the three. By the way her friends keep on looking around at each other, looking triumphant, she desperately wants to know what on earth they've done, so at least she can be aware of what's going on, rather than jump to the worst-case scenario.

      "Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger," says Snape, shortly into the lesson. He's moved from the front of the classroom to the back, where Harry, Ron, and Hermione are sitting. "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

       Holly turns around, as does the rest of the class. She sees her friends all grinning from ear-to-ear, like a little hoard of Cheshire cats. "Ah... reading magazines under the table as well?" says Snape, grabbing the copy they were reading. "A further ten points from Gryffindor... oh but of course... Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings..."

       Her friends all burst into laughter. She sees Harlow laughing, too, and she realises that he must've told a lie earlier, when he said how he had no clue what the magazines were about. Her stomach sinks. It's not often she's lied to. She doesn't like it.

       Nor does she like any of this. How Snape, also pleased by whatever is in that damned article, holds the magazine closer to read it. "Harry Potter's Secret Heartache... dear, dear, Potter, what's ailing you now? 'A boy like no other, perhaps — yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter."

       "Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss."

       Holly sees Harry and Hermione going bright red already. She doesn't know what to do. She knows that she can't, she knows how her friends will react if she turns around and tries to defend her other friend, and tell them how horrific they're acting. She wishes she could, she desperately wishes that she could tear that stupid magazine into shreds and stop her friends from looking embarrassed, stop the anger and the gut-wrenching second-hand embarrassment.

      Look at them. Look at them. They look like they want to hide, and why? Because of her friends. Her friends caused this, they must have been, look at how proud they look.

       "Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last Quidditch World Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has 'never felt this way about any other girl.

       "However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.

       "'She's really ugly,' says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, 'so I think that she's jealous of how Holly Lippincott's getting all of the spotlight because of how pretty and smart she is. I think Granger would be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it.'"

       Holly glances at Pansy. Pansy winks.

       Pansy did this to help her?

       "Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate. How very touching," says Snape. For a second Holly and Harry exchange a look, but Holly's realised why this article exists in the first place, and she feels sick. She looks away. "Well, I think I had better separate the three of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson and Miss Lippincott. Potter — that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."

       Holly glances at Pansy, who smiles back at her and whispers, "He won't be able to win if he's got not confidence, will he?"

       She does not reply to this. She feels as if her stomach's tied into knots, and she keeps her head down, choosing to ignore Hermione as she sits next to her. This is all Holly's fault. They've been humiliated in front of the whole class — in front of anyone and everyone who can get their hands on that magazine — just because Pansy thinks they'll find a way to make Gryffindor beat Slytherin in the tournament.

       And it gets worse.

       Twenty minutes pass and the class starts on their Wit-Sharpening Potions. Every so often she hears one of her friends laugh, or giggle, or whisper something, and she forces herself to keep her head down. But Pansy's halfway through whispering something to Daphne about Hermione — loud enough so that Hermione can hear every word — when there's a knock on the door.

       "Enter," says Snape.

      Holly looks over her shoulder, and sees Karkaroff. Great. What else are they going to do, then, in this lesson, considering they're just making her feel worse and worse by the second? She feels guilty, she feels angry, she now feels scared, what else do they want? Sadness? Where's that Holliday dearest letter, that'll ought to do the trick...

       Karkaroff walks to the front of the classroom, in the same swift, silent fashion he always use to do. At Durmstrang it was common for him to catch people out, sneak up on them as they complained about a teacher, or a subject. Holly keeps her head down, but sees Susannah float closer towards the two.

       "Karkaroff wants to talk, Snape says no," says Susannah, sounding a little bored. Which makes complete sense. This sounds rather boring. "Oh, apparently Snape's been avoiding Karkaroff, which makes completely sense, have you seen the bastard? Snape says after the lesson... I'm interested now. This is juicy. I'll listen in."

       As soon as the bell rings, Holly gathers her things, still avoiding glancing over at Hermione. Holly hurries to walk out with her friends, and as soon as they're out of the classroom, she grabs a hold of Pansy's arm, pulling her to a halt.

       Pansy grins, and says, "So, what did you think of the article?"

       "I think it's awful," says Holly. The grin on Pansy's face disappears completely, along with the smug smiles on the rest of her friends' faces. "No, not awful. How about vile, or nasty, or even brutish—?"

       "Why are you so annoyed?" asks Pansy, frowning. She glances around at the others, as if one of them have the answer. "That article's meant to help you! With that sort of thing out there, you can only imagine how destroyed Potter's confidence and therefore morale will be, and there'll be no way the judges can find anything to score him in the next task! Come on, Holly! This will help you win!"

       Holly shakes her head. "That's not how I want to win!" she lets out. "I don't want to win because you've bullied another champion so much that they're not even a threat anymore! If I win, I want it to be because I had the skill to do so, not that my friends made it easier for me to win — and essentially cheated on my behalf!"

       "But you said that you were being friends with Potter, to find out what he knows about the tasks," says Pansy, frowning. She looks like a mixture between confused, and annoyed. Like she's hurt that Holly's unhappy with what she did, and that she's annoyed that she is, but she also doesn't get why. "How is this any different?"

       "Maybe finding out, through him, what the next task is, or something to do with it, is not the same as bullying him," says Holly. Pansy pulls a face at bullying. What does she think it is? "I know that you don't like him, and fair enough, neither do I — and as soon as the tournament's over, believe me, I will never even look at him again. But that's different to getting something published in a magazine, something that thousands of people can read. I'm being friendly in case I find something out. You're being a bully."

       Pansy glares at Holly. Holly keeps a straight face, which seems to irritate Pansy even more. "I'm being a bully? And what, you aren't?" she snaps. "Isn't it just as bad, pretending to be someone's friend?"

       "Um, no?" says Holly, raising an eyebrow. "You humiliated one of the other champions, in hopes that it would help me out. All of us in the tournament, we're all being nice to each other, because we've all got to go through the same tasks, don't we? Do you honestly think I'll speak to Cedric after this year? Or Viktor? Or Fleur? None of us are going to remain close, or good friends — I think Potter's an idiot who's full of himself, but I don't want to put myself at a disadvantage, I just want to win this tournament—"

       And then. And then, it gets even worse.

       Harry walks past them, and Holly goes silent for a minute. She feels her heart sink. It takes all of her strength not to push past her friends and catch up to him, and explain that she didn't mean it, she really likes him, she thinks he's really brave and clever and definitely not full of himself.

       "Well, that's down the drain," says Pansy.

       Holly snaps, "Oh, fuck off—!" 

       "My mother warned me about you, you know that?" says Pansy, her voice almost a hiss. She steps closer to Holly, seething, relishing in Holly's panic about Harry overhearing. "She said she knew your mother, and she warned me about you. Said you'd be just as evil as she was, just as much as a selfish and spoilt brat!"

        Holly goes quiet. Quickly the anger on Pansy's face disappears, as she realises what she's done, what she's said. Holly remembers the letter she got from her 'uncle' and she remembers what Draco said about Margo after the second task. A lot of what they said sounds like you. Everyone that knew her mother seems to be likening Holly to her, and every time it happens, she can't help but think, what if she turns out like her?

       What if Holly becomes one of the wicked people, and when she realises her mistakes it's too late? What if Holly ruins her entire life as a teenager? What if Holly begins to enjoy the pain on people's faces when Cruciatus is used? The bared teeth, the eyes closed shut, the brows wrinkled together. The screeches of agony, the bodies contorting, the nails clawing against the floor, trying to grasp onto something.

        At Durmstrang, she remembers, during detentions she'd look to the side, or find a way to focus on something other than the child in pain, the screams sounding around the classroom. But what if, in a few years, something happens to her, and she begins to enjoy it, begins to long for the next time she watches someone writhe in pain, screech, beg for mercy. What if she wants to hurt people, like her mother did?

       "Come on, Holly," someone else says. For a minute she expects this to be Harlow, but to both her and Pansy's surprise, Draco moves past Crabbe and Goyle to retrieve his cousin. Holly gapes at him, as does Pansy.

       Holly snaps out of it, and seemingly Pansy does too, because as Holly nods, and begins walking down the hallway with her cousin, she hears Pansy shout, "Wait, Holly, I didn't—!"

       Shoving her hands into the pockets of her robes, Holly hurries her pace, and she glances at Draco, who still looks irritated. "I'm not having anyone insult our family," says Draco, and Holly wonders if that would change, if he knew the truth about her father. "Pansy didn't mean it, she just got too pissed off, but she still said it. We can't let them disrespect our family."

       "Yeah," says Holly, nodding slightly. "Thanks, by the way."

      "You're family," says Draco, with a shrug.

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       THE INSTANT HOLLY can find a way to excuse herself, she does.

       She stands in the toilets for a couple minutes, and drops her bag on the floor. Holly pulls out some parchment and the ball-point pen still sitting at the bottom of her bag, back from during the summer when she brought the bag with her on holiday, and never bothered to take the pen back out. It's quicker than a quill, and right now, she needs to be as quick as possible.

        I know you overheard and I need to explain.

       Kitchens, midnight.

       H x

       Susannah appears and disappears with the note, their plan being for Susannah to drop it into his pocket, or something, so that it isn't obvious, but that he'll be able to notice and read the note before curfew.

       And now, she waits around in the kitchens, leaning against one of the tables. Dobby keeps on asking if she wants anything to eat and she keeps on saying that she's fine, he should go to sleep, it's getting late. Holly keeps on checking the watch on her wrist and begins to think that Harry probably isn't going to show. It makes complete sense. He heard her saying that she didn't like, that she thought he was awful — she wouldn't go and meet someone if she heard them say that about her.

       The door to the kitchens opens. Holly looks up, hopeful, but no one seems to be there. She glances down at her watch, and begins to sigh, but she hears Dobby say, "Harry Potter, sir! Would you like anything? Holly says that she's here to see you!"

       Holly looks up, and steps away from the table she was half leaning against, half sitting on. She walks up to Harry, as he says something to Dobby that makes him hurry off. "I didn't mean what you overheard earlier," she tells him, speaking incredibly quickly, to try and get the whole story out before she's interrupted. "And I didn't know about the article — Pansy thought it would help me, help Slytherin, win the tournament if she had that article published and if she was horrible to you because she hoped that it would kill your confidence so you'd be terrible in the next task and you'd lose and I'd win but I don't want that. If I win I want it to be fairly, and I don't think you're an idiot, or full of yourself, but they think you're terrible and they don't realise that some of the stuff they do — they're bullies, a lot of the time. And I'm sorry for the article — you looked so embarrassed earlier in Potions, I felt terrible — and if I had known I would've found a way to stop it getting out, because it obviously isn't true."

       "I didn't think you meant it," says Harry.

       "You don't?" says Holly.

       "And I didn't think that you had anything to do with the article," says Harry. Holly feels a weight lift off of her shoulders. "We're friends, aren't we? So it makes no sense if you helped with that article."

       Holly smiles softly, intensely relieved. "The article hasn't, um, caused you any trouble, has it?" she asks.

       "It's been fine," he says. "I only found out before Potions, so."

       "There's the weekend, hopefully by Monday there'll be another thing for people to make fun of—" Holly stops herself, and pulls a face. "You know what I mean."

       Harry nods, smiling slightly. She smiles back at him, but then she glances over at the door into the kitchens. She doesn't remember seeing him come in, when the door opened, just Dobby speaking and Harry suddenly being in the kitchens...

       She looks down at the fabric in his hands, frowning. "What's that?"

      "Oh, um." Harry raises his hand, the one with the cloth in. Holly raises an eyebrow and tilts her head a little, curious. "You can't tell anyone."

       "I'm not spit-swearing," says Holly, pulling a face.

      Harry smiles at her, and he explains, "It's an Invisibility Cloak."

      "You've had an Invisibility Cloak all this time and you didn't show me it?" she says, her voice turning into a whisper. She stares at the cloak in disbelief, and she has a feeling that Harry finds this funny, how excited she looks by the sight of an Invisibility Cloak. "Can I use it?"

       "Uh, yeah," says Harry, and he hands it to her. The fabric feels soft, something close to silk, and she holds it in both hands, eyeing it closely. The little pattern reflects in the light. "Just put it on, and then it works."

       Holly nods, looking at the cloak strangely. "OK," she says, and she pulls the cloak over her. Everything around her becomes a strange tint of purple, now that she's looking through the cloak to see. She frowns. "So you can't see me?"

       "No — that's the point."

      "Shove off, Potter," she remarks. She laughs, and she grins to herself, moving around a little bit. "So you can't see me? At all?"

       "No," says Harry.

       "This is so cool!" she lets out. She starts to laugh again, because shit. This is amazing! This is so cool, look, you can't see her, because of this wonderful little cloak that covers her and hides her from the whole entire world. "Where'd you get it?"

       "It was my dad's," he says.

       "He sounds really cool," she says.

       "That's what his friends told me," says Harry, and Holly gets the hint that she should probably stop dancing around in the cloak, a la Stevie Nicks. She takes the cloak off, and begins to fold it neatly, standing next to him. "Last year, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was one of his best friends, and he and my godfather told me about him."

       Holly narrows her eyes. "Hang on," she says. "Wasn't your godfather a murderer?"

       "He wasn't actually," says Harry. Holly frowns, holding onto the Invisibility Cloak still. "They all thought it was him, but it was actually Peter Pettigrew — their other friend — who became a Death Eater, and told Voldemort where me and my parents were."

       "Oh," says Holly, not quite sure what else to say.

       "But he's in hiding now," says Harry, speaking a lot more quietly than before. Holly nods, looking at him closely as he speaks. She can almost see her reflection in his glasses. "I speak to him a little... You can't tell anyone that, though."

       "'Course I won't," says Holly, and she smiles at him. She puts her hands out, to give him the cloak back. "That cloak's so cool, though! I can't believe you've got something that advanced — like, what, the magic must be so advanced, my dad wouldn't believe me if I told him about this—"

       "Isn't your dad a wizard?"

       Holly freezes for a second. Harry frowns at her, and she looks at him, and she starts to laugh. "You know what you said about your secret?" she says, and he nods, still looking confused. "Yeah, um, he isn't a wizard. He's a muggle. Like, the most muggle you can get — he has no idea about any of this, I've got to explain everything to him. But my mother lied to everyone and said he was a wizard to keep me safe. Can you imagine how the Death Eaters would react, if they found out that one of their own had gotten pregnant with a muggle's kid?"

       "Have you told your friends?" he asks.

       Holly frowns. "Should I?"

       "Erm, I don't know," says Harry. "So you're a half-blood?"

       Holly nods. "But my mother made sure that everything says that I'm pureblood, instead," she explains. "I don't really know the whole thing, though. I never met her, I just got a letter from her when I was eleven explaining some of it. Most of it was her saying that she knows that she mucked up... You can't tell anyone that, though."

       "I promise," says Harry. Holly smiles softly at him. "Um, I don't know if you can — but do you think your friends will know anything about Mr Crouch? Some of them, their parents are in the Ministry, aren't they? And a lot are, um—?"

       "Death Eaters?" she asks. He nods. "I'll see if they know anything. Why—?"

       "After I went to the prefects' bathrooms to listen to the egg, I spoke to Moody," says Harry. Holly's brows furrow a little, and she crosses her arms, listening intently. "I saw on the Marauder's Map—"

       "The who's what?"

       "My dad and his friends made a map of the school when they were here," says Harry. Holly doesn't quite see how this would explain seeing Crouch. "And it's enchanted, so that you can see people walking around the place — but Moody has it—"

       Holly puts a hand on her heart. "You gave it to him before showing me?" she says. Harry goes still for a second, as if he's not quite sure what to do, and she rolls her eyes. "It's fine, I'll just cry when I go back to my dorm — what's this about Crouch, though?"

       "Crouch stole from Snape's office," says Harry. Holly gives him a look of confusion, which he seems to return. "I don't know why, but Moody said how Crouch is apparently obsessed with catching Death Eaters... But I just wondered if you could find out anything..."

       "I'll ask," she says. She glances down at her watch, and she has a sinking feeling, because honestly, she really doesn't want to leave. "I think we should be heading back now. But I'll see what I can find out."

      "Thanks, Holly," says Harry, and he smiles a little.

       Holly smiles back at him, and begins to walk towards the door to the kitchens. She figures she can bring it up in conversation, especially if the same happens tomorrow, and she mostly sits with Draco, because really, if someone's going to know something, it's bound to be him. Or maybe, if her friends know nothing (the friends still talking to her, that is) she can write to her 'uncle' because he's bound to know something, surely.

       "Wait, Holly—!"

       She turns back around, frowning.

       "I'm going to see Sirius tomorrow, I told him what's happening with Crouch," says Harry. Holly doesn't quite know what to do. "Ron and Hermione are going, and you can meet us there, if you want — I just thought you might like to come, um—"

       "I'll see you there," she says. "When and where, though?"

      "Oh, um," he pauses, and he pulls out a piece of parchment from his pocket. She walks back towards him, and feels a little happy that she has an excuse to stay an extra minute or so. He gives her the letter.

       Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can.

       "Right, I can do that," says Holly. She passes the letter back to Harry, and she frowns as he folds it back up. Her three years at Durmstrang come back to her, kicking and screaming, and she looks up at him. "Please do me a favour and destroy that before someone sees. If that's from your godfather, if anyone finds that — it's safer if you destroy it."

       "Um, will do," says Harry. He frowns. "How'd you—?"

       "Durmstrang," says Holly. She smirks at him, and begins to step backwards. "But that's another story for another day. And it's a long one, believe me..." Holly reaches the door again, glancing over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."

       Holly leaves the kitchens quietly. The entire castle feels as if it's silent, with the exception of a painting snoring, or a grandfather clock ticking. She's light on her feet as she makes her way back to her dorm room, and she knows that in this school, she could probably get away with running, feet slamming against the floor, and she'd be able to get away with it, but still. She's still used to Durmstrang, and where's the fun in sneaking out if you don't keep silent?

       She returns to her dorm room, five minutes away she's left the kitchens. The room is pitch-black, but she knows the room well enough by now to take a few steps to the right, and sit herself on her bed. She crawls backwards, climbing under the duvet, but before she can lie down, she hears Pansy.

       "Holly?"

       "Yes?"

       "I'm sorry—"

       "You're what?"

       "I'm sorry," says Pansy. There's sudden movement and Pansy sits on the edge of Holly's bed. "I just wanted to help, I should've asked if you were OK with it... Because yeah, I want Slytherin to win, but more importantly, you're my best friend, I want to help you win." Pansy moves, to sit a bit closer to Holly. She puts her hand on top of Holly's, who despite the lack of light, is frowning in the direction of Pansy's voice. "And what I said about your mother — I didn't mean it, I really didn't, I'm so sorry, I just got so annoyed but I shouldn't have and—"

       "It's fine," says Holly, and she sits a little closer, putting her hand on top of Pansy's, the one that's already on top of her other one. "Pansy, it's fine, it's not the end of the world."

       "I got worried," says Pansy. She lets out a relieved laugh. "All this evening I thought you'd never speak to me again."

       Holly shakes her head. "OK, come on, I would be miserable if we stopped speaking," she says. "Don't worry about it, honestly, it's over, there'll be a new thing Monday."

       "Yeah," says Pansy. "Where were you?"

       "Do you promise you won't hate me forever?" says Holly.

       "What did you—?" says Pansy, and she cuts off. "Were you with Potter?"

       Holly freezes for a second, but her best friend's reaction confuses her slightly. Pansy lowered her voice considerably when she asked the question. She wonders if that means she's fine with it? Well, not fine, that's not the right choice of words, but, perhaps like she'd accept it, like she'd keep Holly's secret...

       "It depends on whether you'd hate me forever," says Holly, her voice a whisper.

       "I'd never hate you, Hol," whispers Pansy. Holly wishes that there was some light in the room, so that she could smile at her best friend, or know where to go to give her a massive hug. "For the longest time at this school, I've always felt a little... I don't know, left-out. Like, the rest of our friends have best friends, or their trios, like the rest of the girls, but I never felt like I had that. And then you came, and you're everything I wanted in a best friend."

       Holly smiles. "Stop, you'll make me cry."

       Pansy giggles a little. "So, Potter? Um Holly?"

       "I felt bad about the article!" says Holly, her voice still lowered, both for the benefit of herself — she doesn't know how the others would react, the way she thinks about him, how she thinks he's really wonderful — and for the benefit of those still sleeping, as not to disturb them. "And, OK, I suppose through the tournament, we've sort-of become friends?"

       "I won't tell anyone, Hol," says Pansy. "I'm still judging you, though."

       Holly snorts. "That's understandable," she replies. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I know that you hate him, and the rest of the Gryffindors. And I know it's silly, but I was scared I'd lose you if you found out. But Pansy. He's really nice and like, really really brave and smart and friendly and—"

       "Holly!" says Pansy, giggling a little. "Anyone would think you fancy him! You haven't sunk that low, have you?"

       Holly laughs a little, and shakes her head, even if her best friend can't see this. "That's absurd!" she says. "I haven't been able to tell you any of this! I'm just catching you up!"

       "Sure," says Pansy, in a not-so-convincing tone. Holly, again, wishes that there was some source of light in the room, so that she could give Pansy a little glare, or frown, or something to show that she does not agree with this.

       She does not fancy Harry. Why would she fancy him? It's not out-of-the-ordinary, for her to see her friends and want to tell others about how wonderful they are. Maybe she should give Pansy some of the letters she's written her dad, the ones that talk about the rest of them, and how she goes into paragraphs saying how great she thinks they all are.

       That's what Holly does. She's spent her life with her dad, who does exactly the same, goes off into tangents about how he thinks certain people are so lovely and wonderful. She still remembers when they went out for dinner, and he spent the whole telling her about Eugene, how smart and funny he is, going off into Eugene's life story.

       This doesn't mean that she fancies Harry, because she does not, not even in the slightest. Why would she? He's — well, he's a Gryffindor, and that's the only fault she can give him, and even then, that's mostly just an issue because she still doesn't know how the majority of her friends would react if she turned around and said, "Remember Potter, who you've hated since first year? Well, I'm friends with him and I think he's rather wonderful."

       "It's true!" says Holly. "I don't fancy him! You're getting as bad as Susannah—" 

       "Who?"

       Shit.

       "This, again, is a huge secret," says Holly, pulling a face to herself. How could she slip up that much? She needs to cut this conversation short, and fast, or else she'll tell Pansy about her dad and Holliday dearest. "When I was younger, my dad gave me this necklace, and the diamond happened to hold the spirit of a dead cult member?"

       "Oh," says Pansy. "OK. Cool."

       "So now I'm being haunted by this ghost, called Susannah," says Holly. She feels another weight lift off of her shoulders. She hasn't told anyone this, not even her dad. He'd never believe her, anyway, he'd say something like, ghosts aren't real, eat your breakfast. "But it's fine, because she helps me out — sometimes she'll listen in to conversations for me, and believe me, you don't realise how helpful it was to have her at Durmstrang, she could look out for me, so if any of the teachers were near, she could warn me."

       "Actually," says Pansy. "That makes sense."

       Holly raises an eyebrow, looking incredulous. "It does?"

       "Yeah," says Pansy, laughing a little. "I just thought you talked to yourself."

       "Oh," says Holly, and she lets out a little laugh. "I've been letting my guard down, shit."

       Pansy laughs, and her eyes must have adjusted to the light (or rather, the lack of it) because she feels Pansy wrap her arms around her.

       "I'll keep your secrets, Hol."

       Holly smiles. "Thanks, Pansy."

—✧—✧—✧—✧—

they shared secrets aw