—✧—✧—✧—✧—

TWENTY-THREE ONE OF A KIND

—✧—✧—✧—✧—

       THE NEXT DAY, HOLLY'S ENSURED that her presence is known to the others residing at 12 Grimmauld Place. She woke up early, grabbing as much food as possible before she stakes out in the attic, protesting against their stupidity, and she left the door leading up to the attic wide open, so that anyone that passes knows. They know that, up those stairs, is a very angry fourteen-year-old girl, who they don't trust and they don't know what to do with. They know that they accused a fourteen-year-old of speaking to Tom Riddle himself to arrange for dementors to suck out Harry Potter's soul. They know that this has — shockingly — offended her, and now, she's past that open door, up those stairs.

       She used to play music loudly, to make her presence known, to make them aware that she's never been happy with the fact that she isn't at her own house. But now, she keeps her headphones pressed against her ears and her Walkman's volume up high, a pile of new batteries ready and waiting to be switched over if they're required. Because now, they've gotten to the loud music blaring from morning to night — but now, it's dead silent. They won't hear the music downstairs today, and they'll be aware of it, and maybe, just maybe, they'll feel a little bit guilty about telling off a fourteen-year-old for trying to be a good friend.

       She's making use of the day, and she's sorting through the copies of The Daily Prophet that she's been tossing to the side, not bothering to read due to the lunacy of the headline, and she's reading through all of the articles, figuring out what the rest of the country thinks is going on.

       The majority of it is this: Harry is lying, Dumbledore is lying, and they're both very stupid and very crazy. Holly feels bad to think this, but she's a little grateful that the Minister of Magic arrived at school when she was asleep, and now she's got nothing to do with this, with the exception of a little note, how whatever happened, she was there, but no further knowledge is known. Which she's happy about. She knows that Harry can handle this better than she can. She's still curling up in a ball at night and trying to get the image of the boggart, as Karkaroff, out of her head.

       Holly sighs. She begins to wonder if she should pack her bags and ask to stay with her cousin for the end of the holidays — at least there, there's an adult who'll happily tell her things. Not like the ones here, who say I'll explain it later, all the while tricking her dad into thinking he's helping them, when he isn't, not in the slightest, but rather, they need a way to keep an eye on her. As if she's some time bomb. As if she's secretly going to turn into something evil. As if she's her mother, which she is not.

       She sees someone walk into her room, and she takes off her headphones, sitting up, about to tell Ron or Hermione that she doesn't want dinner, she's fine. But, as she sits up, she sees Harry, and before she knows what she's doing, she jumps off of the bed, throwing her arms around him.

       "HARRY!" she says, and she feels him hug her back, his arms wrapping around her. She pulls away a little so she can see his face. "I didn't know the dementors were going to show up, honestly, you know if I knew that, I would've stuck around, I wouldn't have left if I knew you were going to get hurt — and I promise that I was going to come back to get you, but then I got back here and they were accusing me of helping You-Know-Who send those dementors after you and they wouldn't have let me leave her — but I didn't know anything was going to happen, I would've stayed with you if—"

       "Um, I know," says Harry. Holly steps backwards, her hands falling back to her side, and she looks at him oddly, unsure of whether or not he's annoyed, or fine. He walks further into the room, which she's a little glad about, because when she went to hug him, for a split second she thought they were going to fall down the stairs. "Do you know they've expelled me?"

       Holly nods, frowning. "You've got a hearing, though, haven't you?" she asks, and he nods yes. "You'll be fine, you had a reason to use magic, what do they expect?" There's a brief pause, and she smiles softly at him. "And, coming from the girl that managed to do the impossible and move schools, you'll be fine."

       "Hopefully," says Harry.

       "No, no, no," says Holly. "Don't hope. You don't get anywhere with hope, you just feel a little better about yourself. You want to go back to school, so you will go back to school... As long as you know how to win — well, not win, but you know what I mean — the hearing, you'll be fine. I don't know about the Ministry, though, so..."

       Harry smiles a little at her, and she supposes he's grateful for what she said. It might've helped. Then, she sees his expression change, looking cautious. "Um, about what Dudley said—"

       Holly smirks. "What, how you dream of me?"

       "Well, yeah," says Harry. Holly nods, smirking still, and in a panic, he attempts to defend himself. "But not like that! I keep on dreaming about the final task — I dream of you being tortured—!"

       Holly sees the realisation fall onto his face, and she starts to laugh. "You're one of a kind, Potter," she says, still laughing. His cheeks start to go red, and he looks away. She smiles at him, stepping closer to him as she puts a hand on his arm. "I know what you meant — I think, anyway, you might actually hate me and want me dead, in which case—"

       "I don't hate you," says Harry.

       "I know," says Holly. "Are the dreams just about the graveyard, then?"

       "Not all the time," says Harry, and Holly nods, her brows furrowing. She knows, by this point, that he doesn't hate her. The fact that her literal cousin's Draco Malfoy, and yet Harry still likes her, makes that rather clear. "Sometimes they're also in the maze... Um, the part about you was in the maze. Me and Cedric heard you being tortured."

       Holly's lips part. "Oh."

       "That's mainly the only part from the maze," says Harry. Holly isn't quite sure what to do with herself. If anything she feels bad, but then she shakes herself out of it, and she thinks, why should I feel bad? She was being tortured, and here she is, feeling guilty because Harry keeps on dreaming about it. This boy. "The maze wasn't too bad, except for that part."

       Holly's stomach twists. "Oh."

       This boy, making her feel guilty about being tortured because she can't bear the idea of him being upset. This boy, making her miss him so much she breaks the number-one rule set this summer, barely caring about the consequences because all she wants to see is him, and being grounded for a couple weeks is worth it. This boy, making her stomach feel all weird but not the kind she's used to, not the kind where there's a pit in it, and she can feel the dread oozing into her bloodstream, her gaze fixed on one of the teachers at her old school, trying to predict their next move.

       Holly looks at Harry. She still doesn't quite know what to do. Because really, she's had a couple nightmares here and there about the graveyard, but then, nothing's going to compare to Durmstrang. And she knows, Voldemort is far deadlier than Karkaroff, but Karkaroff was the evil villain ever since she was eleven, forcing her to stop being innocent, forcing her to find the strength to make the teachers like her, at any cost. Voldemort's terrifying to her, but Karkaroff was the one that broke the world for her, broke her.

       Because here's the thing: Holly knows she would be so much different if she never attended Durmstrang. She knows it's through Durmstrang that she's more observant and stronger, but if she never attended Durmstrang, she never would've been forced to turn into the perfect student during her first year, realising that the best way to survive was to be metamorphic — you had to bite your tongue and ignore your morals because at Durmstrang, either you're the one helping at detentions, or you're the one having detention.

       At Durmstrang, there was no room for loyalty. Not the kind they have at Hogwarts, at least. Loyalty at Durmstrang is whispering healing charms to help the younger years, when they returned from detentions (you always got a couple detentions at the start, you don't expect the horrors that unfold) but as soon as someone you were sort-of friends with gets into trouble, you've got to let them go, who cares if you've been friends since your first year. If you don't look out for yourself at Durmstrang, no one's going to, and you'll find yourself shattered across the Dark Arts' classroom floor.

       But at Hogwarts, everyone's loyal to someone. At Hogwarts, it's considered to be terrible if you dare to turn against your friends. All of the houses believe in loyalty being important, even if some houses tend to be more selective than others.

       Durmstrang broke Holly, and she knows this. She knows that, if she went to Hogwarts in her first year, she'd still be in Slytherin, because she knows that she's had ambition in her blood since the very beginning. But she wonders if she'd still be friends with Harry, or the other teenagers on the lower floors in Grimmauld Place — Durmstrang made her observant out of paranoia, yeah, but she knows that Durmstrang made something clear, and that's the fact that not everything is black-and-white. Students at Durmstrang were always some shade of grey, because you couldn't help it, and now, that's what she sees.

       Maybe at first, she believed her friends and their words about Gryffindor, because they were nice to her, why would they be lying about that? But then, she met this boy, and she became conflicted, and now, she's secretly friends with the boy her friends hate the most.

       "I was meant to tell you that dinner's almost ready, um."

       Holly nods, and she crosses her arms. "Are you staying here, then?" she asks him, and he nods. "Cool. I guess I'll go down for dinner, then."

       "You haven't been eating?" says Harry.

       "I've been sneaking downstairs during the night to get food," says Holly, giving him an odd look. "Most of the time I don't feel welcome. The Order doesn't like me. I don't know about you, but I don't like the idea of sitting downstairs with a bunch of people that don't like me." She pauses, frowning. "I guess I'll have dinner there today. I need to make my presence known."

       "Why?" says Harry. 

       "Make them feel bad," says Holly. She smiles at him. "Durmstrang taught me many terrible things, but, it did teach me how to manipulate."

       "What you said to Dudley yesterday—"

       Holly frowns, trying to remember what she said to Dudley. The only thing she can remember was when he first showed up, and she looks at Harry in confusion, because that's got nothing to do with Durmstrang. "Do you mean when he asked if I was your girlfriend?" she asks. "Because I only said it to make him back off. I don't—"

       "I know, I wasn't saying that," says Harry. Holly still looks confused, her stomach feeling strange. "What you said about Durmstrang—"

       Holly takes a minute to remember. It was something about Durmstrang, wasn't it? Yeah... And she said how it taught murder and torture. Ah, all right. That makes sense, why Harry's a little curious. She's only told the girls in her dorm, and she thinks Draco's figured it out through casual remarks made between Holly and Pansy.

       "I learnt Cruciatus two weeks into first year," says Holly. His jaw drops, and she passes by him to the door. She glances over her shoulder. "I wonder what's for dinner."

       She walks down the stairs at a quicker pace than usual, mainly so that he can't slow her down and ask her more about what she said. She doesn't mind him knowing, but she can't be bothered to talk about it now. After she told her friends around Christmas, she was exhausted, because whenever she discusses it in that length, she feels like she's putting herself back in her old school uniform, and she's walking through the hallways, trying her best to look strong, like she isn't terrified.

       Holly walks into the kitchen, walking past Walburga Black's portrait and the usual comments, and she takes a seat at the table. Her dad catches her gaze for a minute, but she gives him a look — one of the nasty ones she learnt at Durmstrang, the ways that the older girls would cast a look at someone and they'd be gone, that section of the library would be empty for the girl to comfort a younger year — and she looks down at the table.

       She sits in silence. She doesn't feel welcome. She feels as if she's back at school, and she's sat down at the Gryffindor table. Or any other table, for that matter. She doesn't feel like she fits in here... She misses her friends. She wants Pansy to be here.

       Holly eats in silence, too. At one point she nods at whatever the twins said to her, and at another she saw her dad compliment Mrs Weasley's cooking, and it wasn't so much her, or her husband, but Holly can tell. Her dad isn't welcome here. He sticks out like a sore thumb, just like her. And she knows that Mr Weasley's being friendly, asking her dad about muggle things, but Holly doesn't like it. She feels like it's drawing attention to how he's different to him, he shouldn't be here, he's only here because of her, the daughter of Miss Margo.

       "Nearly time for bed, I think," says Mrs Weasley at the end. Holly can't wait to go upstairs, back to her little sanctuary in the attic. She feels like Rapunzel, in her little tower.

       "Not just yet, Molly," says Sirius. He looks at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

       Holly sees a couple of the grown-ups look at her. She can feel her blood boiling.

       "I did!" says Harry. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so—"

       "And they're quite right," says Mrs Weasley. "You're too young."

       Holly sees her dad, looking like he's trying his best to fit in, but he doesn't. No matter how hard he tries, he's still an outsider. She wants to take him by the hand and pull him out of this damned house, neither of them are welcome, why don't they just go back home?

      "Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" says Sirius. He has a point. Kind-of contradicts everything they've said since the start of summer, but still. "Harry's been trapped in that muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen—"

      "Hang on!"

       "How come Harry gets his questions answered?"

       Gryffindors.

       "We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!"

       "It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing," says Sirius. "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand—"

       "It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" says Mrs Weasley. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

       "Which bit?"

       "The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know," says Mrs Weasley, and the argument continues. Holly keeps quiet, looking at the glass of water in front of her. She still feels out of place. It confuses her, how the Order's meant to be the cavalry, the good guys, and yet, they refuse to tell them anything — and then Holly goes to her cousin's house and within minutes she's being told everything. Even if Atticus said everything you need to know, that must only be about her mother. Obviously he's not going to tell Holly every single detail, only the important things, that must be what he meant. And regardless, at least he started to explain everything. Here, she knows as much as that stupid locket she threw in a cupboard downstairs.

       "I want to know what's been going on," says Harry.

       "Very well," says Mrs Weasley. "Ginny — Ron — Hermione — Fred — George — I want you out of this kitchen, now."

       Gus begins, "Holliday—"

       "No," says Holly, speaking for the first time she got downstairs. She sees the twins turn around, surprised that she actually spoke a word, and Holly frowns at her dad. "I was there, too, when You-Know-Who came back, and the others saw Cedric's dead body, didn't they? Why aren't we allowed to know anything?" She looks at her dad, a hint of desperation on her face. "Please, Dad."

       Gus clears his throat. "If that's OK—"

       "Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," says Mr Weasley. Holly goes back to avoiding her dad's gaze. Everything feels weird with him, ever since she was forced to move into a room here. "They are of age—"

       "They're still at school—"

       Mr Weasley looks tired, as he says, "But they're legally adults now."

       "I — oh, all right then, Fred and George can stay, but Ron—"

       "Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say, anyway!" says Ron, springing into action. "Won't — won't you?"

        And Harry pauses, for a second or two. Holly's brows furrow, and she glances over at him. "'Course I will," he says eventually, but it still seems wrong to her.

       "Fine!" shouts Mrs Weasley, and she turns to Ginny, who until then was trying to blend in with those sitting next to her. "Fine! Ginny — BED!"

       Ginny stands up, and aggressively shoves her chair under the table, storming out of the kitchen behind her mum. The door slams behind her, and Walburga Black starts to shriek again, shouting every single insult under her belt. Remus Lupin leaves the room, to try and sort out of the portrait, quickly returning.

       "OK, Harry," says Sirius. "What do you want to know?"

       Holly makes sure she's listening carefully to everything being said. How there hasn't been any suspicious deaths. How Harry wasn't supposed to leave the graveyard alive. For a second, it's added how Holly wasn't meant to be there — 'But you got away with it, because of Valen and Malfoy.' How Voldemort wants to build up his army again, a grand mass of monsters, before he goes after the Ministry. How the Order's trying to instil in people's minds that Voldemort's back, but the Ministry's trying to do the opposite... How Fudge is worried this is a plot for Dumbledore to take over as Minister.

       They explain how they need to have people within the Ministry, because Voldemort has them, too. And how The Daily Prophet has been trying to discredit Dumbledore every issue it's published since the final task. How if Dumbledore's out of the way, Voldemort can go straight to the Ministry, their headmaster's the only thing stopping him right now, along with the lack of support.

       "Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors, Harry," Sirius explains. "He tricks, jinxes, and blackmails them. He's well-practiced at operating in secrecy. In any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in, he's got other plans too, plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on them at the moment."

       "What's he after apart from followers?" asks Harry.

       "Stuff he can only get by stealth," says Sirius. There's a pause. "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."

       "When he was powerful before?"

       "Yes."

       "Like what kind of weapon?" says Harry. "Something worse than the Avada Kedavra—?"

       "That's enough," says Mrs Weasley. "I want you in bed, now. All of you." She looks around at Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, and finally, Holly, who's surprised she's been included. She feels a little honoured, actually.

       Fred moves in his seat. "You can't boss us—" 

      "Watch me," says Mrs Weasley, giving Fred a nasty look. Holly likes Mrs Weasley. She's cool. "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway."

       "Why not?" says Harry. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight—"

       "No," says Remus Lupin. Everyone's gazes turned to face him. "The Order is comprised only of overage wizards — wizards who have left school. There are dangers involved of which you have no idea, any of you..." Holly frowns. Durmstrang was training grounds for anything deadly. "I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough."

       Sirius gives a look, that indicates he isn't too sure about this, but he doesn't want to argue back. Mrs Weasley gives some gesture, for the teenagers to follow her out of the room, and as Holly stands, her dad does the same, quietly saying, "I need to speak to you, Hol."

       Hol. Why on earth is he calling her Hol, when for the past few weeks he's been forcing her to stay here, where she's unwelcome? Where she can't invite her friends over, because it's dangerous, you know who their parents are? Where she can't even speak of her friends, or her cousin, without people here making nasty faces?

       And sure, sure, her friends are not the nicest, especially to Gryffindor, but she knows that they don't mean it. Her friends have been raised to think something completely wrong, and she can tell, even if they don't say it aloud, she knows that they're doubting this. She knows they're living up to their parents, but they're starting to realise that their parents aren't these gods on earth, they're just people, and sometimes people don't have all of the right answers.

       "I want you all to go straight to bed, no talking," says Mrs Weasley, as they walk up the stairs. They reach the first floor, and Gus gestures to Holly to follow him into the drawing room, to speak to him. Holly grimaces, but she follows him.

       Gus closes the door behind Holly, who walks further into the room, crossing her arms. She hopes this is quick, she wants to go to bed. "I know you don't like staying here—"

       "That's an understatement," says Holly.

       Gus gives her a look, wanting to continue speaking. "Can you listen to me, for one minute?" he says, agitated. Holly shrugs. "I know that you don't want to stay here, but it's for your safety — if they found out about where we live, I can't protect you against magic—"

       "The Death Eaters aren't going to go after me," says Holly. Her dad frowns, and Holly looks at him in surprise. This is the people downstairs, feeding him all of these lies about how she's in danger, how she could be killed by the Death Eaters. She could've been in the graveyard, but she wasn't. They don't want her dead. "Margo and Atticus made sure of that — You-Know-Who thinks that they're still on his side, I'm safe, I'm fine, I don't need to be here—!"

       "And what if they follow you?" says Gus, stepping forwards. "What if they do see where we live, and they find out the truth? You never know, I can't risk that, I'm not risking your life because you don't think it'll happen—!"

       "It won't happen!" she shouts. She can feel her blood boiling. Normally this is when Susannah appears, cackling at the little furious beast, aw. "You don't get any of this, Dad, and you never will! You aren't a part of this, all that you know is what they've said downstairs — and the people downstairs, they don't want you there! They want to keep an eye on me! They don't trust me — no one in this house trusts me! They all think that I'm like my mother, they all think I'm going to turn around and kill people, and I'm not, I'm not, but that's all they see! They don't see me, they see Margo Valen, and that's all they care about!

       "They don't care about you, Dad. They don't care about the muggle world being involved. They're using you, Dad!"

       Gus looks at her for a minute. Holly feels as if the whole world's gone quiet, now that she's stopped shouting at him. All she can hear is the grandfather clock to the side of the fireplace, slowly ticking as the seconds fall past.

       "Do you think I haven't realised that?" says Gus, finally. Holly looks up, her brows furrowing as she sees her dad's expression. He looks upset, and she knows this is when Susannah would say, well, duh, you just said he was useless. "I know I'm not supposed to be here — I didn't know why they wanted you here, but it's safer for you here. I don't care if I'm being made a fool if you're safe.

       "Do you think anyone wants to be staying here, Holliday? Do you think your friends upstairs want to be in this awful old house, instead of their own home?"

       "Harry does," says Holly, and immediately, she wonders why she felt the need to add this in. She sounds like a little kid trying to have the last word... She is a kid trying to have the last word.

       Gus gives her a look. "Holliday," he says. "You're not the only one that's unhappy about staying here. But I don't see anyone else having a tantrum about it—"

       "I'm not having a tantrum!" she says. "And they're all welcome here, I'm not, no one likes me, they all think I'm evil and awful and terrible and like her—"

        "And you think sulking upstairs is going to change that?" says Gus. "Holly, I understand why you want to go home, but you can't, it's too dangerous. You can't use magic, you'll get expelled from school, you won't be able to defend yourself against a Death Eater. The only option is for you to stay here — and I know that you hate it, I understand and I wish there was another option, you know that. But there isn't. You've got to stay here."

       Holly looks at her dad. She feels terrible. She can see the sadness on his face, she knows how he feels useless. She hates seeing her dad like this — he can't find any other option for her, not like he had with Durmstrang. She's stuck here, until the start of September, as much as she hates it, as much as she wishes she was home, able to invite her friends over... Well, she could invite Pansy over, she knows Pansy enough for her to keep her secret.

       So Holly nods.

       "OK," she says. "Sorry."

       "It's fine, kiddo," says Gus, and he opens his arms, for her to hug him. Slowly, Holly steps closer and hugs her dad. She steps back, and her dad smiles at her. "I'm sorry, too. And hey — you know some of the stuff now, you all do, maybe you won't feel as unwanted."

       Holly nods, but she knows that there's always going to be that. She's always going to walk past that portrait and get the usual sneers, the lady in it mistaking Holly for her mother. She's always going to be the one with a parent that's a Death Eater. She's always going to be the only Slytherin, amongst her sort-of friends here, all of which being Gryffindors.

       But she knows what her dad's saying is true. She guesses that maybe, it would've been easier if she stayed downstairs more often, and she didn't just lock herself upstairs, unhappy with the situation.

       So, the next day, she ensured that she was downstairs with the others, helping them out with cleaning the different rooms of the house. And it was a good thing, too, because by the end of the day, she had managed to catch them cleaning out some of the old photographs, and she found one of Regulus Black, with part of the paper folded, hiding her mother's bright smile.

       And things are getting better, like her dad said they would. Gus stopped using his lunch breaks to sit in the meetings, which she's pleased about, now she doesn't have to see him sit in a room where he can't quite fit in. After a couple days, things improve for Holly, and she thinks she's enjoying herself, a little more.

       Even when, a couple days later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione ask to speak to her privately, just for a couple minutes. Even when they ask her what actually happened at Durmstrang, and she goes, that story takes far longer than a couple minutes. Even when they assure her that they don't mind, they just want to know. Even when Holly takes a deep breath, putting herself back in her old school's uniform, transporting herself back to that dreadful place, trying to remember how she explained it to the girls in her dorm. It made sense then, when her dad found out it was just her mindlessly blurting out everything that happened.

       "So..."

—✧—✧—✧—✧—