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TWENTY-EIGHT HAPPY HOLLIDAY

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       THE DAY OF the Quidditch match begins like this: Holly wakes up, feeling as though it's the morning of a Triwizard task. She sits up and she looks around, at Pansy who's already awake, pulling an emerald jumper over her head, and Millicent, who's trying to finish a Defence essay. Holly gets out of bed, thinking to herself, she's got this, and she shares a smile with Pansy. She's got this.

       "Oh, Hol!" says Pansy, a small smile on her face as she catches up to Holly, who's grabbed her hairbrush and started making the way to the toilets. Pansy's still smiling as she begins, in a hushed voice, "You'll never believed what happened yesterday, when you were out."

       When you were out. Holly remembers the night before, when at midnight she went out to the kitchens, slipping through the hallways and greeting one of the house-elves, who jumped at her arrival and asked if she wanted anything. She tried her best to ask him to retire for the night, and eventually he followed through with this, walking away and leaving Holly on her own, in her pyjamas, with her arms crossed and her gaze constantly flickering over to the door.

       "Hi," said Harry, as the door closed behind him, pulling off the Invisibility Cloak. Holly smiled at him, walking a little towards him.

       "Hi," said Holly. Her arms are still crossed, as she glances around, before she looks at him. "So, uh, just to make things clear — if anything happens in the match tomorrow, we don't argue about it, yeah?"

       Harry frowned. "Is Slytherin planning something—?" He noticed the look on her face, her eyebrows raised, and he stopped himself. "Gryffindor isn't..."

       "Neither's Slytherin," said Holly. Her brows are furrowed. "I just wanted to make sure that we were on the same page, you know? Just in case something does — because really, it's going to be a miracle if something doesn't end up happening, especially since it's the first match, and it's between Slytherin and Gryffindor."

       "Yeah, I know," said Harry. He looks around, almost as if he's nervous. Holly isn't quite sure why, considering they've already kissed, he's already told her he fancies her. There's nothing else to make him nervous, surely... Surely? "But, um, yeah, that's a good idea..."

       "If something happens, it'll probably have my cousin behind it, so I just wanted to tell you before. I don't think he's planning anything, but if he starts anything, I don't know about it," said Holly. Harry nodded. He continued to look around, his gaze moving from pot to pan as if he's awkward, anxious, as if he's got something to say but he can't say it. "So, yeah, um—" And this was where she got tired of him looking nervous. "What's wrong?"

       Harry blinked. "Nothing's—"

       "You looked nervous," she said.

       Harry shook his head. "I'm not—"

       "Is it because we kissed? Because I suppose we haven't really had much time alone together since then, so is that why?" asked Holly, spiralling a little. She frowned still, thinking about any and every other reason for his behaviour. "Did I do something wrong?"

       "What? No!" said Harry, looking at her like she's mad.

       "But you look nervous," said Holly.

       "No I don't," said Harry.

       "I know you well enough by now," said Holly, "to know that you look nervous."

       "I — was going to ask, maybe we could go to Hogsmeade, or something, together," said Harry. Holly can feel her heart sink already, feeling a longing sensation, wanting so badly to say I'd love to, but knowing full-well that they can't. "I know we can't go anywhere popular, but The Hog's Head was empty, so we could always go there... It's fine, I suppose we probably can't, but Hermione kept on telling me to suggest it, just in case."

       Holly frowned. "I can't," she said, quietly. She stepped closer to him, as she tried to make her point. "Not right now. Maybe at Christmas we can go somewhere together — there's this really cool café a few minutes away from Grimmauld Place, or maybe this other one, near where I live... But I don't think we can go to Hogsmeade together. I'd love to — you know I would — but I can't."

       "That's—That's fine," said Harry. She can practically hear the disappointment in his voice, and she can feel her stomach sink along with it. "But there's always the holidays, isn't there?"

       "Exactly," said Holly, with a small smile on her face. In all honesty his suggestion made her feel better, because look, there are other options. "And anyway — nothing can compare to the hot chocolate at this café near my house, you'll love it... But for now, do you promise we won't fall out, if something happens at the match tomorrow?"

       "I promise," he nodded.

       Holly smiled. "Me too."

       She looked at him, noticing that again, they were standing close together. For a second she thought things over, before she moved closer, lightly pressing her lips against his. He kissed her back, and in the back of Holly's mind she's freaking out all over again, because what the hell, Hol, this cannot be real. In her mind she's already decided that she's letting Pansy know the instant she's woken up in the morning, how Holly's kissed Harry again and everything is fine and wonderful and Holly felt as though she could feel the wonder and amazement of all the stars in  the sky twinkling down on a clear night.

       She still feels this, her intense happiness over this boy, as she walks with Pansy to the girls' toilets, planning to fill her in as soon as her best friend's finished explaining her story.

       "So, last night," says Pansy, clutching onto Holly's hands in an excited manner. Holly looks a little bewildered. Her best friend looks as though she's going to dance to a Mary Poppins song, because she's so overjoyed — well, if she knew about its existence, but you know what she means. Pansy is very, very happy. "Draco and I kissed."

       Holly holds back, Ew, but why?

       "You did?" she says instead. She knows that she could get away with Ew, but why? Because he's her cousin and all, but then, Pansy can rightfully make a comment about the fact that Holly has kissed Harry. Twice now... Pansy's yet to learn about the second time, but she knows about the first one. Holly was bouncing around the dorm room afterwards.

       Pansy nods. "I think we're going out now!" she says, and she grins at Holly. Holly smiles back at her, because she supposes this is good for Pansy, because she's happy, but also, has Draco ever actually been nice to Pansy? And don't get Holly wrong, Pansy is not saint herself, but still. Holly still doesn't see it. But then, she doesn't know if this is because of the amount of times Harlow tries to talk Pansy out of her crush — or even the amount of times, in Quidditch practice, Flo makes comments about the whole thing. Which again, is odd, considering Holly's certain that Pansy despises Flo Montague.

        "That's great!" says Holly. "But did he actually say that? Or did you? Are you actually going out, is it just because you kissed? Does kissing mean you're going out with someone?"

       "Why, got cold feet?" asks Pansy, smirking.

       "This isn't about me," says Holly, frowning.

       This is about Holly. 

       This, in fact, is about Holly, and about the fact that she is so painfully smitten with that boy who she's supposed to hate, but because things are so unclear right now in the world, she doesn't know what could happen, if the masses found out. She doesn't know if it'll be gossip for a week or if it'll cause her step-father — the wizard one , not the muggle — to grab her by the wrist and send her into hiding, telling some tale about how he promised her mother, blah blah blah.

       But she doesn't want to admit this. Because this isn't about her, not to Pansy. To Pansy, her world's in euphoria because she's kissed the boy she fancies and everything's going great. To Pansy, her best friend seems to be falling for someone she personally hates, but what can she do about it? She loves her best friend and that's enough for her to bite her lip and to think — as she sees her best friend glance over at Potter during lessons with this awful love-struck look in her eyes and look back at her desk before anyone notices ­— at least she's happy.

       Holly, later, walks down to the Quidditch pitch with Flo, after Pansy wishes them both good luck, and she leaves them to say the same to the boys, kissing Draco on the cheek. As they begin to walk down to the stands, Holly glances at Flo, who has this odd look on her face.

       "So they're going out, then?" asks Flo.

       Holly nods. "Apparently."

       "Oh," says Flo. "That's — nice."

       Holly gets an odd feeling about this. She looks at Flo, still noticing the odd look on her face. She isn't quite sure how to describe it. It isn't quite disappointment, nor jealousy, nor anything she can clearly define. Flo Montague just looks strange, enough for Holly to notice, as she goes quiet for a few minutes as they walk down the pitch.

       But again, here is the thing: Holly cannot show she disapproves of this. Because Pansy hasn't stepped in the way of Holly and Harry, so what gives Holly the right to do the same with Pansy and Draco? Because from Pansy's perspective, Harry isn't the Harry that Holly knows, but he's Potter, the awful fiend that's been annoying her like a fly buzzing around a room, too stupid to find its way out through the window. To Pansy, Holly must find something appealing about Potter, because Pansy knows her best friend well enough to know that she wouldn't settle for an moron, so there must be something.

       Which Pansy reminds herself, as she stands with the rest of her house, happily singing the words to the song Draco wrote, in hopes of discouraging Weasley, the new Keeper for Gryffindor. She reminds herself that there must be something, her best friend isn't stupid, when she sees the Quidditch game play out, her best friend already a star on their team — until she hears the chanting from her house, and she stops, looking either like she's going to massacre her entire house, or, she's just going to say something like I'm just disappointed and make Pansy feel like shit for the rest of her entire life.

       Pansy sees Holly try to keep on playing, despite being distracted by the chanting. At one point, she sees Florence Montague shout at Holly to concentrate on the game, and Pansy grimaces. Part of Pansy knows that Holly isn't just distracted because they're making fun of Potter's friend, but rather, they're competing in the sort of way Holly would describe as unfair, and wrong.

       Which she is, as a matter of fact. Out of nowhere Holly sees someone on her team send a Bludger slamming into the side of Harry's head, and thankfully, this time every else stops playing, because obviously, they can all agree that that was unfair. But still. Holly reaches the ground, leaving her broom lying on the floor as she marches over to her cousin, as he's saying to Harry, "I've never seen a worse Keeper... but then he was born in a bin... Did you like my lyrics, Potter?"

       "You're a brute," says Holly, scowling.

       The Gryffindor team's gathered in a huddle, like the Slytherin team. Holly stands next to her cousin, this close to punching him in the face and having a go at him, but she keeps a tight hold on herself. She isn't snapping, not in front of the entire school. Her cousin fucked up but she is not standing against him, not when the whole school—

       "We wanted to write another couple of verses!" says Draco, shouting at the Gryffindor team. Holly's hands ball into fists. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly — we wanted to sing about his mother, see — we couldn't fit in useless loser either — for his father, you know—" Holly can see the look on Harry's face, and she's trying her hardest to will him not to react, not like she knows he's going to. Umbridge will use it against him if he does, he can't — "But you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?"

       Oh, dear.

       Holly begins, "I swear to Merlin, shut up—"

       "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you?" says Draco, the shit-eating grin on his face showing that he knows he's struck a nerve already. The twins had cottoned on to what's going on, both furious. Holly wants this to stop. "Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by muggles even the Weasleys' hovel smells OK—"

       "Draco," she snaps.

       He notices, but he gives her a look. An odd one. As if he's annoyed, as if to say, yeah, of course I'm including your dad, you idiot. But still. Her cousin's a piece of shit.

       "Or perhaps," says Draco, stepping backwards. Holly's eyes narrow. What the fuck is he about to—? "You can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty remind you of it—?"

       Holly, without thinking, spins around and punches her cousin, her fist slamming into his nose. He topples backwards, and Flo grabs Holly before Harry and George get to her cousin, who's now scrambling back to his feet, blood pouring out of his nose.

       "I'm done with this," says Holly.

       "You're quitting?" says Flo.

      "I'm quitting," says Holly.

      This is fine. She's still got head girl to dream of, and in the grand scheme of things, maybe it's smarter to aim for head girl rather than Quidditch team captain. It might sound better when she's out of school and trying to get a job — and ever since she joined the team, she's been complaining about it. If they're going to act like this, then what's the point in winning?

       And school is just school. Maybe she doesn't get head girl (which she doubts because she's literally bought bracelets with good luck charms just for the sake of getting that damned badge in seventh year) either. School isn't the end of the world, just because she doesn't get a title at school doesn't mean her entire life is ruined. The world won't end because she's quit the Quidditch team.

       The three boys are still fighting. Holly glances at Flo, who seems to look a little pleased by the fact that Draco's being fought by two others.

       "What does your friend see in him, anyway?" says Flo finally.

       Before Holly can respond, sticking up for her friend's decision regardless of whether or not she agrees, a spell sends Harry, Draco, and one twin flying backwards, hitting the ground. Holly stops herself in her tracks, realising that she was about to go to Harry to help him up.

       "What do you think you're doing?" shouts Madam Hooch. She looks at Holly, who for a minute thought she had gotten away with punching her cousin in the nose. Evidently not. "I've never seen behaviour like it — back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!"

       Holly sighs. She glances at her cousin, who looks more surprised than anything, and she gives him a look. How can he look surprised? Wasn't she the one telling him to shut up? Wasn't he the one to bash muggles, when her father and step-father are ones, and he knows this? He doesn't have the right to be surprised. Surely by this point he's recognised that he's acting like a dick, of course she's going to snap when he made the game unfair and he had the audacity to insult someone's dead mother.

       And sure, she thinks she punched him because he was making fun of Lily Potter, rather than him just being a piece of shit, but it's not like she's going to tell Snape that, isn't it? That would require a lot of catching up to do. That would be, like, thirty-five chapters worth of stuff, if the author gets their shit together, and a sequel.

       Draco catches up to Holly. She ignores him.

       Halfway towards Snape's office she realises that she's probably going to get a detention because of this, and her stomach ties into knots. Her knees almost give in, and she has to shake it off, remind herself that the only person at this school that only Umbridge, and she's not the one giving them a detention, they should be fine...

       "What's wrong with you?" says Draco.

       Holly frowns. "What?"

       "You almost fell over," says Draco, looking at her incredulously. As if he's at an old-school circus, watching a lion standing on its back legs. "You look ill... We're not going to get into trouble—"

       "I punched you," says Holly. "Why are you even being nice, I punched you—"

       "I don't get you sometimes," says Draco. Her brows furrow. What's that supposed to mean? "Half the time you act like nothing could hurt you and the next thing you're having a tantrum because of that song—"

       "You weren't playing fair," says Holly.

       "We were playing to win," says Draco.

       Holly looks at him for a minute, about to comment and have a go at him, but instead, she stops herself. What's the point? "Well, it's not my concern anymore," she says. "I'm quitting the team. Cheat, bully, whatever. Not my concern."

      "You're quitting?"

      She thinks right or easy. The easy thing's to stay on the team, but it wouldn't sit right with her. The right thing to do is quit, and that's what she's going to do.

       It's a small step, and in her mind it's less because it made things unfair, but rather, the team was a bunch of bullies and Holly refuses to stand with that.

       She wants to be better.

       She might even start writing with her left hand again, silent rebellion.

—✧—✧—✧—✧—

       THEY WERE LET OFF with nothing but lines, after Draco made up some story about how they had an argument earlier that day — "Family issues" — and saying that Holly shouldn't get into any more trouble than he is. Holly's shocked by this. But, nevertheless, she's grateful. The idea of Umbridge's version of detentions makes Holly's knees go weak in fear.

       So now Quidditch has been crossed off of Holly's list of things to do — not because she became the captain, but rather, because things were terrible and she wants to start doing the right thing. But it's fine. Really, it is. She can spend even more time on revision and make sure she's on the right path to becoming head girl in her seventh year. And, in her mind, this includes attending the D.A. meetings, despite the fact that the Quidditch ordeal's left her on thin ice with Umbridge, who looked personally disappointed. As if Holly's the kind of student she wants all students to be. Right. Holly writes with her left hand now.

       "You're getting really good," says Harry to the whole group, at the end of the final D.A. meeting before the Christmas holidays. It's still unclear to Holly, what she's doing over the two-week break, or where she's going to be, but she's thankful for a couple weeks off of school. She really wants to read The Handmaid's Tale.

       "When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff," says Harry. Holly waits for him to continue, maybe give an example, because in her mind, the big stuff are the three curses, and she knows that won't be his first thought. Hell, that won't be the first thought of anyone else in this room. "Maybe even Patronuses."

       Now we're talking, she thinks.

       The room begins to clear, like it normally does. Holly stays until the end, again, like usual. No one else is walking her way, and no one else seems to like her but Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys. The rest are still a little too scared of her.

       "So you're off the Quidditch team, then," says Holly, once only her and Harry are left in the room. Harry looks up, a little surprised, which she supposes makes sense. She probably shouldn't have started with so your life's shit right now, isn't it? But, as her dad told her in the weeks running up to her first day at this school, just complain about something. Complaining makes the world go 'round, especially conversations. "I quit, too."

       "Yeah, I know," says Harry. Holly raises an eyebrow at him, and he continues, "I mean — I overheard it the other day... I thought you wanted to be captain?"

       "Not of a team like that," says Holly. She glances to the side, at the Christmas decorations someone (probably Harry) had hastily shoved into a corner, trying to hide them. Then she looks at him. "Wait, hang on — you were listening to gossip?"

       Harry looks away. "They said your name."

       Holly looks at him in surprise. That's probably one of the nicest things she's heard in a while. She smiles softly. This boy.

       "Well," she says, snapping out of it. "I guess there's a silver lining. Now I can't beat you at Quidditch."

       "Oh, yeah?" he says, smiling a little.

       Holly nods, crossing her arms. "I mean, granted if my team was actually talented, but you know," she says. She grins. "I would've beaten you."

       "You wish," he says. He's grinning back at her, and she bursts into laughter, calming down before he asks, "So you quit because of Malfoy's song—?"

       "Well," says Holly, pulling a face. She needs to dissect the web that's been created around this entire situation. "I got annoyed about that, and the team in general consists of bullies, but, I quit because I didn't like what he was saying, after the match. I punched my cousin because of what he was saying about the Weasleys, and your mother..." She shrugs. "I don't know, quitting the team seemed like the right option. Not the easy one."

        "So you got into trouble — because of me?"

        "What, no one's done that before?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. She smiles at him, and nods. "I guess so. I mean, I wasn't really thinking, I just heard him talking about your mother and that was the last straw, I think."

       Harry looks bewildered. Or perhaps astonished.

       Either way, he looks surprised by what she had to say. Which makes sense, because for the longest time she's been struggling to stand up for him against her friends. And OK, she knows it wasn't standing up for him, because if she had done that, her friends would be aware of the fact that she punched her cousin in the nose because of what he was saying about her friends, not because she thought the game was unfair. It was, but the stuff afterwards hit her more... Such as the thing about muggles.

       "So, uh—" she begins.

       To her own surprise, he cups her face with his hands and brings her closer, kissing her. Holly freezes, thinking to herself, oh, OK, I did not think this would happen. Not that she's complaining. She's just caught a little off-guard. So she kisses him back, once she's comprehended everything that's just gone on.

       She pulls away, his hands falling back to his side. Holly looks up.

       "That's cute, there's mistletoe," she says.

       "Probably full of nargles, tough," says Harry.

       Holly frowns. "What on earth are nargles?"

       "No idea," says Harry. "Ask Loony — Luna, I mean."

       "If she isn't scared of me," says Holly, and she smiles, even though she isn't really pleased about this. She doesn't like how people are scared of her, don't like her because of her cousin. It's rather lonely. "But anyway — I better go back to the dungeons. Have a nice Christmas, and, uh, let me know if you do want to see each other then."

       "I will," says Harry. He smiles at her. "Happy Christmas, too."

       Holly smiles at him, and before she leaves, she moves closer and kisses him on the cheek. She moves backwards, giving him one last smile, and she leaves the room, making her way back to the dungeons with a growing smile on her face.

       This boy! He's so wonderful. She cannot believe she hasn't let it slip to her friends yet, how lovely and amazing she thinks he is, because shit, she feels as though all of the stars in the sky are shining down on him... She thinks her own brain's been infested with sparkles and stars because she can't get him out of her mind, as soon as she gets back to the dorm room she's waking Pansy and pulling her into the bathroom so she can hear her long, long, volume of sonnets of how much she cares about Harry.

       But, when she returns to the dorm room, it's a matter of seconds before sleepiness kicks in, and she falls, face-flat, onto her pillow. She dreams of lovely things: of her holiday to Hawaii last summer, of fancy museums with pretty pictures framed on the walls, of her friends in the summer, when they all met up and the sun was shining and they were laughing because they had nothing to worry about, Voldemort hadn't returned yet, the world was as bright as day—

       "Holly," says Pansy, shaking Holly by the shoulders. Holly frowns at her. The room's been lit up by all of the candles, considering their only window looks into the lake, and that's useless as a source of light, anyway. "You need to get up, Hol... Snape says you need to go to Dumbledore's office."

       "Why?" says Holly, closing her eyes.

       "Go and find out!" says Pansy, shaking her awake again.

       Holly grumpily sits up, and takes a minute to stand up, thinking if this is actually truly worth it. It can't be morning, surely, Holly still feels like she's a zombie. She feels as groggy and mardy as Susannah must've been, when she woke up as a ghost... Holly's heart twitches. Susannah...

       She walks to Dumbledore's office, her eyes barely staying open. She supposes she looks like she's very angry, because her eyes are so narrowed, rebelling against her and trying to send her back to sleep. Believe her, she wishes she was still asleep. Would it really matter, if she turned around and just found him in the morning, asked what was wrong...

       Holly grumbles the password, which Pansy told her right before she left the dorm room, giving her a pat on the back as if to encourage her to leave the room where she can sleep, to walk through a cold castle in the dark to speak to the headteacher. What the shit. Even Durmstrang didn't have this sort of bullshit. At least they let her sleep.

       "Ah, Miss Lippincott," says Dumbledore, as she walks into the office. She sees a cluster of Weasleys and Harry, sitting in a chair. Holly frowns. She knows this isn't a dream, she wouldn't be this shitting tired if it was a dream. "You're going to be leaving tonight, along with the Weasleys and Harry, back to Grimmauld Place."

       "Why?" she says.

       "Mr Weasley has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," he explains. Holly nods, her eyes still narrowed. She wants to be aware and concerned, but she thinks she's running on about half an hour of sleep. Do they think she can process emotions at this level of exhaustion? "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow."

       "OK," says Holly. She isn't awake enough to argue.

       "You'll be using a Portkey," says Dumbledore, and he gestures towards kettle on the desk. He looks around at all of them. "You have all used a Portkey before?" Yeah, when Voldemort came back, she thinks. "Good." The others must've nodded. That takes too much energy. Holly just stands there, hand ready to hold onto the kettle. "On the count of three then... one... two... three..."

       Holly blinks, and they're back at Grimmauld Place. Nothing seems to have changed, perhaps with the exception of extra cobwebs being added into the corners of the kitchen, so high up that Kreacher can't reach them. She takes a seat at the table. She wants to know what happened, yeah, but she's exhausted.

       "What's going on?" asks Sirius, as he arrives into the room. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured..."

       "Ask Harry," says one twin.

       "Yeah," says the other. "I want to hear this for myself."

       Holly has her head on the table, her arms crossed to make a sort-of cushion. She keeps herself awake, forcing her eyes to open a little wider than the exhaustion's making them, and she listens to Harry's explanation: how he had a vision, how he watched a snake attack Arthur Weasley. By the time he finishes, and one twin asks if his mum's there, Holly closes her eyes, and falls asleep...

—✧—✧—✧—✧—

       ... UNTIL SHE WAKES UP, the next morning. It's earlier than she would normally wake up, she knows this by the fact that the clock on the wall says half-five. But, her eyes open and apparently she's had enough sleep for the day. Her brain's beginning to realise what Harry was talking about last night — along with the fact that she's stuck here, again, feeling like she's Rapunzel, because everyone thinks she's evil...

       And then, she realises that, during some part of the night, Harry had sat next to her and in her exhausted state she had woken up a for a couple seconds and had tried to reposition herself to feel more comfortable in her wooden chair. So now, she's realised, she had slept with her head on his shoulder.

       She sits upright.

       "He's going to be all right," says Mrs Weasley. Behind her, in the hallway, Holly spots her dad. Her face lights up, and she gets to her feet. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."

       Holly makes her way into the hallway, and she hugs her dad.

       "I don't want to stay here," says Holly immediately.

       "But you can't come back home," says Gus, hugging her still. She knows he's frowning. He always frowned when she said this in the summer. Maybe if she starts crying he'll give in. "It's too dangerous — Eugene and I can't protect you from wizards, you know that..."

       But.

       A light-bulb flashes in her brain.

       "What if I stay with family that are wizards...?"

       And that leads to now. It's half-ten in the morning and her belongings have been sent to Grimmauld Place from school. Downstairs she hugged Harry good-bye, and then Ron, wishing the best of health for his father. She stands in the sitting room, like she did many times in the summer, and she clearly states the location.

       She blinks again, and there she is.

       Atticus, sitting on one of the sofas in Malfoy Manor's sitting room, frowns at her.

       "Do you have a spare room?"

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