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TWENTY-SIX WONDERFULLY LOVELY

(WHY CAN'T I HATE YOU?)

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       AND OF COURSE, the next couple weeks prove to be uneventful, now that Holly's finally realised that she fancies Harry. The start of the term's meant that Holly's been a little preoccupied, what with getting irritated at how disastrous her Quidditch team is, and spending every Defence lesson wanting to curl up in a ball and cry. So, the majority of their interactions have been small — a little small during lessons, where Holly makes herself look away because she knows for a fact that she would happily keep on looking, but then her friends would ask what she's doing. (Her cousin especially... That's going to be an interesting discussion.)

       It's the start of October when she's passed a note before History of Magic by Hermione, who conveniently brushes past Holly to get into the classroom, shoving a piece of parchment into Holly's hand as she does so. Holly looks down at the parchment as she slips it into her pocket, reading the words, Hog's Head, Saturday, just before Pansy pulls Holly away from Hermione, loudly commenting on how the 'frizziness' of Hermione's hair could infect Holly, and thus, make her hair frizzy.

       So.

       Holly spends that Saturday morning similar to when she tried to find Harry to let him know about the second task last year. She glares at the clothes in her wardrobe, trying to figure out how to look presentable, but not so much that she made an effort (and she did, trust her on this, she used a face mask and everything, one of those charcoal ones) but, enough that her friends don't get confused, because if she's being honest, her house in general dresses far smarter than Gryffindors do. But Holly needs to find the mix between smart yet nonchalant, and then, bright, warm colours and comfort.

       She decides on blue jeans and a black jumper. Her belt's black with a silver buckle, which reminds her of those cowboy movies her dad watches all of the time. And her black jacket hangs over her jumper, because it's the start of October, it's not cold enough to bring out the winter coat. But, the jacket's enough for her to keep her hands inside whilst she holds onto the little piece of parchment, slipping away from her friends ("Pansy, I'll be back in a few minutes..." "Potter and Holly sitting in a tree—" "I hate you.") after hanging outside of Honeydukes for a few minutes. As she leaves, she sees Pansy forcibly pushing Harlow into Honeydukes, and Holly rolls her eyes, hurrying up her pace, before the rest of her friends notice she's disappeared, or where she's walking off to.

       Holly pushes open the door to the Hog's Head, a rush of warm air hitting her as soon as she steps into the pub. The smell of Butterbeer and Firewhiskey lingers in the air, and she frowns, finally looking down, and at the countless sets of eyes looking at her.

       "You got my note!" says Hermione. Holly, a little bewildered by the amount of people staring at her, nods, and Hermione smiles at her, before she returns her gaze to the rest of the group. Almost thirty students are sitting around, listening to Hermione. Holly frowns. "But as I was saying, I want to be properly trained in Defence because... because..." She pauses. Holly's still confused. "Because Lord Voldemort's back."

       A couple people scream, and Holly frowns at them. She stays at the back of the students sitting around, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Harry looks at her and smiles, and she frowns back at him, still not entirely certain what's going on here.

       "Well... that's the plan anyway," says Hermione. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to—"

       "Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?"

       Hermione begins, "Well, Dumbledore believes it—"

       "You mean," says the boy, "Dumbledore believes him."

       The boy nods at Harry. Holly steps forwards, about to say something, but before she can, Ron glares at the boy. "Who are you?"

       "Zacharias Smith," says the boy. "And I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

       "And I think you should shut your trap if you're moronic enough to believe the Prophet," says Holly, stepping forwards. Quite a few heads turn to look at her, and she walks over to where Zacharias Smith's sitting on the back row. She stands behind him. She's been at Durmstrang long enough to know how to intimidate. So, she puts her hand on his shoulder, and smiles. "Yeah?"

       She takes her hand off of him, seeing his shoulders fall in relief.

       "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" says Harry, and he looks straight at Zacharias Smith. "I saw him." He looks over at Holly, who nods, before he adds, "Holly saw him." Again, quite a few heads turn to look at her, who makes sure she's expressionless. "But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

       "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you and Lippincott brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts," says Zacharias Smith. Holly narrows her eyes at his head. "He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know—"

       "If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," says Harry. Holly grimaces. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

       There's silence. No one moves from their seats, and Holly sees the surprise on Harry's face, that all of them are still sitting there. At one point Zacharias Smith tries to discretely look behind at Holly, but of course, he's forgotten that her level of discrete is far more extreme than his, he didn't go to Durmstrang, she's better at a discrete gaze than the normal person. Holly frowns back at him, and he looks away.

       "So," says Hermione. "So... Like I was saying... If you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to—"

       A girl asks, "Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?"

       "Yeah," says Harry.

       The girl says, "A corporeal Patronus?"

       "Er," says Harry. "You don't know Madam Bones, do you?"

       The girl smiles, as a couple others whisper about what she said before. "She's my auntie... I'm Susan Bones, she told me about your hearing," she says. "So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

       "Yes," says Harry.

       "Blimey, Harry!" says a Gryffindor. "I never knew that!"

       "Mum told Ron not to spread it around," says one of the twins. (Holly's never going to remember names, she's starting to accept this.) The twin cheekily grins at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

       Harry mumbles, "She's not wrong."

       "And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" says another boy. Again. Holly's never going to remember names. She knows most of her friends' names (what are Crabbe and Goyle's first names?) and some other students in her year (by this, she means two — Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown) and that has got to do. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year..."

       "Er," says Harry. "Yeah, I did, yeah."

       "And in our first year," says Neville. "He saved that Philosopher's Stone—"

       "And the Tournament last year, too," says Holly, who has a little smile on her face. Her friends won't believe any of these people, if there's any sort of rumour. She's fine. "What with the dragons, the merpeople, and the boggarts and the rest of the creatures they had in the maze..."

       Harry smiles at Holly.

       "Look," says Harry, looking around at the rest of the teenagers. The impressed murmurs dissolve. "I... I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but... I had a lot of help with all that stuff..."

       "Not with the dragon, you didn't," says a boy, almost immediately. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying..."

       "Yeah, well—"

       "And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer."

       Holly looks at the ground, feeling guilty.

       "No," says Harry. "No, OK, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make it—"

       "Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" says Zacharias Smith. Holly grimaces the instant he speaks. It's been a while she's disliked someone this quickly.

       "Here's an idea," says Ron. "Why don't you shut your mouth?" 

       "Well, we've all turned up to learn from him," says Zacharias Smith. "And now he's telling us he can't really do any of it."

       One twin says, "That's not what he said."

       "Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" says the other twin, brandishing a long metal instrument from one of the Zonko's bags at his feet.

       "Or any part of your body, really," says the other twin. The one that spoke first, not the one holding the torture device... Holly wishes she knew their names. "We're not fussy where we stick this."

       Hermione looks at the twins warily. "Yes, well," she says. "Moving on... The point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?" There's a general sense of agreement, of people either nodding or mumbling a response. "Right. Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week—"

       "Hang on," says one girl. "We need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

       "No," says Cho Chang. "Nor with ours."

       "Nor ours," says Zacharias Smith.

       "Nor mine," says Holly, although this isn't wholeheartedly. Her team's a pile of shit. She knows for a fact that she could miss every practice, never even think about Quidditch, and still, be the best player on the team — with the exception of Flo Montague, but still. Most of the team makes her want to pull her hair out.

       "I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," says Hermione. "But you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters—"

       "Well said!" says another boy. He has this pleasant smile on his face, as he seems to address the entirety of the group. "Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up! I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells—"

       "We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts is that she's got some... some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army," says Hermione. Holly keeps this in mind, remembering what Umbridge said the other day, about her having potential. "She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

       "Well, that makes sense," says Luna. Almost everyone's heads turn to her, stunned. "After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

       "What?" says Harry.

       "Yes," says Luna. "He's got an army of heliopaths."

       "No, he hasn't," says Hermione.

       "Yes, he has," says Luna.

       "What are heliopaths?" says Neville.

       Holly frowns. What is going on?

       "They're spirits of fire," says Luna, with greatest sincerity. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of—"

       Hermione says, "They don't exist, Neville."

       "Oh, yes they do!" says Luna.

       "I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" says Hermione.

       There's a strange look on Luna's face. Holly thinks it's rage. "There are plenty of eyewitness accounts," says Luna. "Just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you—"

       "Hem, hem," says Ginny. A couple people mistake her for Umbridge, jumping in their seats before realising their teacher isn't hidden in the shadows. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defence lessons?"

       "Yes," says Hermione. "Yes, we were, you're right..."

       "Well, once a week sounds cool."

       "As long as—"

       "Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," says Hermione, looking a little agitated. She looks around. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet..."

       "Library?"

       "I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," says Harry, and Holly agrees. She remembers during the summer last year, the librarian chased out a couple of seventh years trying to practice jinxes for their exams.

       "Maybe an unused classroom?"

       "Yeah," says Ron. "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard. . . ."

      Holly shakes her head. "We can't use a classroom, we need to find somewhere Umbridge doesn't know about," she says, rolling her eyes. Amateurs. "Obviously if we all meet up for this, she'll find out, and she'll notify the Ministry, won't she? Because from her perspective this could be use training for an army against the Ministry, like she fears and like she suspects."

       "Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," says Hermione, her brows knitting together. "We'll send a message 'round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting." She pauses, taking out a quill and some parchment from her bag. "I—I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge — or anybody else — what we're up to."

       Holly frowns at the parchment being sent around. She wants to be a part of this, but the idea of signing her name on that worries her. Scares her, even. She imagines what could happen if Voldemort has any idea about this, that she was a part of this group along with Harry, along with countless children who's parents tried to stop him. What if this got her killed?

       People start to leave once they've signed the parchment, and Holly hangs around until the others have disappeared. She walks towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione, frowning at the list of names.

       "I can't put my name on that," she says. "If it's found—"

       Hermione frowns. "Your friends—"

       "That's not what I'm worried about," says Holly, frowning back at her. Hermione looks a little surprised, and Holly lets out a sigh. "If this is found — and I know you'll look after it well, but hear me out, the stakes are higher for me than they are for Zacharias Smith — I could get killed."

       "What?" says Hermione. 

       "He will think I'm siding with you," says Holly.

       Harry frowns, but in a different way to Hermione.

       "But you are!" says Hermione.

       "But he can't know that!" says Holly, her voice a whisper. She looks at Hermione, dead in the eye, her brows furrowed. "I'm not saying anything here. And I'm not signing that, either—"

       Harry says, "You don't have to."

       Holly smiles at him.

       "But—" says Hermione, giving him a look. "Just because you fancy her—!"

       "Hermione," says Ron, sounding tired.

       "I — well, all right," says Hermione, sighing. "You won't tell your friends, will you?"

       Holly looks at her incredulously. "Yeah, because that would end well," she says, and she thinks Ron snorts. Holly smiles slightly at Hermione. "I'm sorry, though. About not putting my name on that." She gestures towards the parchment, and she thinks, I'm sorry I'm cowardly and too scared to do anything that could suggest I'm against You-Know-Who. "I'll see you around."

       She moves to leave the Hog's Head, like the rest of the attendees to that meeting. She sincerely hopes she can get out of Pansy asking why, exactly, she had to go to Hogsmeade's dodgy pub. But, she begins to walk towards the door leading back into the street, stopping when she sees Harry catch up to her. Holly raises an eyebrow.

       "Um, I'd love to walk with you, but I can't—"

       "I wasn't saying that!" says Harry, with this strange little smile on his face. Holly frowns at him, turning to face him. "I — um, I didn't think you would come."

       Holly shrugs. "I didn't know what this was, so."

       Harry looks over at Hermione, who gives him a nervous smile. He's frowning as he turns back to Holly, so Holly's fallen under the impression that he didn't know that, either.

       "But it's fine," says Holly. She smiles at him, seeing the uneasiness across Hermione's face. Because really, if she's being honest with herself, she knows that if she knew about this prior to a few minutes ago, she wouldn't have turned up, mostly because she's scared of getting into any sort of danger, or making one wrong move and accidentally getting a target on her back. But, she would've wanted to go, and she would've felt guilty that she couldn't, so really, she isn't too annoyed about this. Maybe a little uneasy, but it's fine. No one saw. Her friends won't find out. She can get herself through this easy-peasy.

       She looks down at her watch, and then she looks at Harry. "I'll see you later."

       He nods. "Yeah, um."

       Holly smiles at him again, before she leaves the pub, the door closing behind her with a thud, the hinges squeaking along with it. She trudges along the beaten track back towards the rest of the shops and the Hogwarts students, most of which carrying a bag or two of Honeydukes or Zonko's merchandise. As she walks past The Three Broomsticks, planning to just walk back up to school, she sees Pansy and Harlow leaving Honeydukes, carrying a couple bags, as Pansy readjusts the woolly hat — the one Holly borrowed before — on her head.

       "You're back!" says Pansy.

       Harlow frowns. "From where—?"

       "The dead," says Holly.

       Pansy nods. "The dungeon password was necromancy for a reason," she says, and Holly solemnly nods in agreement, sending a sly smile towards Pansy, who looks just as mischievous. Harlow sighs and shrugs, and Pansy tugs on Holly's arm to follow them back up the high street. "Draco and the others are busy — I think Blaise is trying to teach himself the Defence course in the library, too, but Draco told us to go on without him... And Crabbe and Goyle of course, they're with him, too..."

       "Pathetic," says Harlow, shaking his head.

       Holly frowns. "What's—?"

       "He seems to think that Draco doesn't actually like me," says Pansy, giving Harlow a nasty look as they start to walk back towards the school, golden leaves crunching under their shoes. "Which I think is a load of rubbish. Right, Hol?"

       "Uh—"

       Here's the thing: Holly isn't sure of this. She's still a little surprised that Pansy fancies Draco, and that her best friend thinks that something could happen. Because her cousin isn't exactly the nicest to her, is he? Sometimes he laughs at whatever insult she's spat out, but other than that, he isn't nice to her. But then, maybe Holly doesn't see all of it — Pansy seemed to accept Holly's friendship with Harry, and from Pansy's point of view, he must be a complete prick, so maybe there's something there that Holly doesn't see.

       "Well," says Holly, pulling a face because she doesn't want to cause an argument, but she can't not say anything, can she? If her best friend's being treated badly, she needs to say something, surely? "From what I see, he isn't the nicest to you..."

       "There are far better people out there," says Harlow. He glances at Holly, who nods in agreement to what he's saying. Admittedly, they haven't been speaking as much as they used to, mostly because Harlow's gone off with Theodore a lot. Which Holly gets. She had a couple of close friends in primary school that drifted away, not for any reason, it just happened. "What's her name? The new girl on the Quidditch team...?"

       "No way!" says Pansy. "She's terrible, I would rather die than go anywhere near her... I swear she doesn't even wash those awful factory boots she wears, they've always got mud on them, and who even wears leather jackets? And apparently she has a tattoo, and she got it at fifteen whilst she was on holiday, I don't know where, but—"

       "You know a lot about her," says Holly, giving her a look.

      "Know your enemy," says Pansy, grimacing. Harlow gives her the same look as Holly, the same look Pansy gives Holly whenever they're near Harry or he's mentioned, and Pansy glares at him. "She's a beast. I would rather die than willingly spend anytime near her. Can you both drop this? You're going to pull a muscle, reaching like this."

       Holly nods, and she smiles at Pansy. "What did you get from Honeydukes, then?" she says, and she gives Pansy a sickly-sweet smile, like when she asked her cousin if she could go for Quidditch captain instead of him. Holly flutters her eyelashes, and Pansy rolls her eyes. "Anything for your bestest friend?"

       "The fudge you like," says Pansy, sighing.

       Holly smiles. "How much was it—?"

       "A warm hug," says Pansy, and she gives Holly a smirk. "And, of course, promising that you won't ditch me for the love of your life—"

       "Die in a hole," says Holly, rolling her eyes. "He is not—"

       "Who's this?" says Harlow. 

       "No one," says Pansy. "And he is, Hol."

       "He is not!"

       "He is!"

       "Not!"

       "Is!"

       "Not!"

       "Is—!"

       "Hem, hem," says someone in the castle's entrance. Holly freezes, her blood running cold as she sees Umbridge smile at the three of them. "Miss Lippincott, dear, did you enjoy Hogsmeade?"

       Does she know?

       "Yes, thank you, Professor," says Holly.

       "Could I, perhaps, have a word with you, dear?" says Umbridge, smiling straight at Holly, who wishes she could shrivel up and be excused from this hell of a conversation. But, Holly nods, because she knows this sort of teachers well. Holly isn't the best at trusting teachers but she knows how to act when a bad one's around. She knows how to be metamorphic, change her attitude a little, make them like her, make her in the clear.

       So Holly nods. "Of course, Professor."

       Holly follows Umbridge to her office. She glances over her shoulder, seeing Pansy and Harlow carefully following behind. Umbridge's saying something in her awfully sickly-sweet voice about this only taking a few minutes, she'll be able to return to her friends before she knows it, but Holly's trying to think this through.

       Most likely, Umbridge has an inkling of an idea of what's happening. Holly isn't sure how, but really, Holly knows that Harry and Ron and Hermione aren't exactly the best are covering their tracks — they haven't needed to be, Holly reminds herself, the only reason she's better at it is because she went to Durmstrang — so maybe she found out, one way or another.

       Holly's screwed, essentially. She tries to think of how she'd solve this if she was still at Durmstrang, and the bottom line is, if there was any thought of rebellion there, the student would already be writhing on the floor in detention. So what else there? For Holly to turn this around to make herself safe — but then, she can't do that and get the others out of trouble.

       Umbridge opens the door into the office, inviting Holly in. Holly steps inside, her stomach twisting into knots. She'll be fine. She'll be fine. Karkaroff was worse, she reminds herself. She survived Durmstrang. She can do this. She can do this. She can—

       "So, dear," says Umbridge, closing the door, moving to take a seat at the desk. She smiles at Holly, who's still standing up, because she isn't sure what to do. Is she allowed to sit? What if she gets into trouble for doing the wrong thing, for guessing something is OK when it's not? "Oh, please, take a seat, Miss Lippincott, dear." So Holly does. Her knee's bouncing up and down. "I just thought it would be lovely for us to have a little chat, yes? Because you see, as I am sure you know, there are many children here that think awful things. I've heard many dreadful things through the grapevine, of what these certain individuals may be plotting, and I wonder if a bright young girl such as yourself knows anything..."

       "About Harry Potter?" says Holly.

       "Do you, Miss Lippincott?" says Umbridge.

       Just the question alone reminds Holly of the other one. Do you not have the stomach for this, Miss Lippincott? And the memory of that makes her grimace, as a light-bulb appears over her head. If Umbridge trusts her, that's good for Harry. She'll know what Umbridge is up to, which is good for Harry.

       So Holly looks at Umbridge. 

       "Well, Professor, I suppose we were acquaintances last year during the tournament," says Holly. Umbridge is shit at noticing when someone's truly lying, and Holly knows how to get a lie past the nastiest teachers at Durmstrang. She can do this. "I—"

       "Were you at the Hog's Head earlier?"

       Holly almost freezes, but then, she has a thought.

       "I was getting there, Professor," she says, smiling politely enough that she doesn't get into trouble for 'talking back,' but enough that she can cover her tracks. Her heart's racing. She tries to get the picture of Karkaroff out of her head. "Yes. There was this meeting earlier at the Hog's Head, because you see, as I was saying, due to the tournament last year, Potter trusts me. But you know, with what he's been saying recently, and like Pansy told you, everything with my mother, this all leaves a bad taste in my mouth... I was invited to go with the rest of them and I thought, this is an opportunity. I don't want to sit around whilst this is happening, you understand that, surely?"

       Umbridge nods. Holly feels very strange.

       "So, I thought, if I agree to do whatever they're planning, I can inform you, who can inform the Ministry," says Holly. She lets out a sigh, the sort that requires a pathetic hand to the frown, the kind of woe-is-me acting from old soap operas. "Because you see, I want to help out, I really do. I don't want to make the same decisions that my mother did, so I went to the meeting, with the full intent of letting you know, so you could stop any sort of rebellion."

       "Rebellion?" says Umbridge, her eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

       "Not rebellion," says Holly. "I'm not sure, at the moment, what exactly they're planning to do, but as soon as I do, I will of course make sure you're informed."

       "That would be wonderful," says Umbridge. "You can leave, now. I'm sure you have a lot of homework to finish off, what with this being your O.W.L. year..."

       Holly nods. "Indeed."

       She does not have any homework to finish off. Holly, already stressing over the exams in the summer, has finished all of her homework, in order to buy time to revise anything that could ever be tested. But, Holly leaves Umbridge's office, darting down the hallway to where her friends are discretely hiding, and she frowns at them. Her hands are shaking.

       "I have a plan." 

       "Well, come on, then, we'll discuss it in the common room, everyone's out..."

—✧—✧—✧—✧—

       'BY ORDER OF the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts,' says the most recent addition to the Slytherin notice board. 'All Student Organisations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.

       An Organisation Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.

       Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

       The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.' 

       Umbridge's ugly little signature sits underneath.

       Holly grimaces at it before her first lesson that day, as she hears Montague walk into the common room, proudly declaring that they've still got their Quidditch team. She exchanges a glance with Pansy, who she told about the situation yesterday, who carted Holly into the girls' toilets for them to speak privately. Holly glances back at the noticeboard, reading the Educational Decree again. Next to it sits the list of free classrooms available for use during lunchtimes and free periods.

       Pansy takes hold of Holly's hand and they walk to breakfast. Holly keeps on thinking about the noticeboard, about how the others are going to react. She didn't say anything, she agreed. There's not enough evidence, Harry won't get into any trouble, but, Holly's in Umbridge's good books, which means that Harry's got someone on the inside. And that's the important thing, she reminds herself, as she sees Zacharias Smith give her a nasty look, and scoff to his friend, as if to say, told you so. Holly grits her teeth together.

       She's going to tell Harry. She's going to make sure that he's fully aware of what's going on, because if he doesn't know, it'll come out in the worst way possible.

       So at the end of Defence, she tries to get a hold of him, before he goes off to dinner, but of course, the stars aren't aligning in Holly's favour. Holly doesn't think they ever have. But, anyway. She makes her way to dinner with the rest of her friends, keeping an eye on where Harry's sitting, planning to leave the instant he does, to pull him to the side and explain what happened. From the looks she's been getting today, most people at the meeting suspect it's her. And rightly so. Holly hates this. She wishes she didn't have to turn things on their side, make people believe she's secretly this-and-that. She wishes she could just stand up and rebel. But she can't.

       The last time she did, she was pulled off by the collar, her neck aching for hours afterwards. She was shoved into an office and forced to use a torture device, forcing a scar onto the hand she's been forced not to use. Holly's been thrown in with the sharks enough times to be scared of going against the rules put in place. She knows what the consequences are like and she desperately longs for a world where she's brave and strong enough to fight for what's right regardless, but she isn't. Her world is still tainted by Durmstrang and there's nothing she can do about it.

       "I'm going to the library," says Holly, the second she sees Harry stand up. Pansy nods, and moves to come with her, to keep her company, but Holly quickly adds, "It's easier to focus on my own, sorry, I really need to get this done, um — I'll see you later, I'm sorry—"

       And she rushes off, in the direction she saw Harry walk off. She supposes he's going back to Gryffindor Tower, so she picks up her pace, because there's no way in hell she's going to be welcome anywhere near that place. She sees Hermione and Ron walking down another hallway, presumably for whatever the prefects actually do, which Holly supposes makes this easier for her. She likes to think that Harry's easy to reason with. She can reason with him, at least. She thinks.

       "Harry!" she says, and she bears in mind that list of empty classrooms from this morning, noticing her surroundings and remembering that one's a few corridors and right-turns away. Harry frowns at her, and she tries to catch her breath, before she speaks. "I need to explain  something — I can't do it here, come on."

       She grabs his hand and pulls him towards the direction of the classroom. The hallways are pretty much deserted, now that they're away from common rooms and the hall. Holly tries to walk quickly, but Harry isn't, which slows her down.

       "What's this about?" he asks.

       "I'll tell you in a minute—"

       "No one's around, why not now?"

       Harry stops walking, which ultimately stops Holly from continuing her stride towards the empty classroom. She looks at him, and she sighs. No one's around, he has a point — and Holly realises that the reason she's worried about talking is a hallway is because it was a dangerous place to discuss things, back at Durmstrang. Corridors have corners, alcoves, places to hide, places to eavesdrop. But Hogwarts isn't like that, is it?

       "Please don't hate me."

       Harry frowns. "What?"

       "Umbridge found out about the thing—"

       Harry still looks confused. "You know, I realised that when she banned all clubs—" 

       "When I got back to the castle, she told me she knew," says Holly. His brows start to furrow, and she jumps to continue. "And I sort-of agreed but I thought, she already knows, if I confirm it, she thinks I'm on her side, which means that you've got someone that she trusts, which is good for you—"

       "Umbridge likes you?" says Harry. Holly grimaces, nodding. She's reminded of the slight surprise and horror he had on his face when he realised that Pansy was the Slytherin prefect. He frowns at her. "I don't want you to get into trouble because of me—"

       "But I want to," says Holly, stepping closer to him. "And that's what I should've done when you said I saw You-Know-Who come back, too."

       Harry still looks unconvinced. "You have to spend time with Umbridge."

       "She's nothing compared to Durmstrang," says Holly, and in her mind, she can't help but add, I hope. She's standing even closer to him, as she looks up at him. "I want to help you, and if she trusts me, we can maybe find out what she's planning — so if it's anything to do to with you, then we'll know, which is good for you! This seems like the right thing to do, and I want to do that. I want to do something that'll help you."

       "It's funny, isn't it?" she says, a small smile on her face. "How my friends constantly said how you were awful, that you were selfish..." She grins at him. "Sure, I thought you were a little annoying at the start—"

       "Hey!" says Harry, and she grins back at him. He smiles back at her, because she doesn't mean to sound rude and he knows it. "I didn't know what to think of you."

       She was mysterious, lovely. The idea of this makes Holly feel a little pride, like she's truly metamorphic.

       "I don't think I could hate you," says Holly. They're standing close again. If the inch between them was removed they'd be kissing. Holly feels her heart beating faster, can see the green of his eyes as she speaks again, her voice a soft whisper, "Why can't I hate you?"

       And Harry closes the space between them, his lips on hers. He moves back as looks at him in slight disbelief, before she goes lightly, her hands slowly moving to hold his face. Her fingers lightly press against his jaw and she kisses him.

       Every worry she's felt about her friends finding out about them being friends, about her not being careful enough and them figuring out the truth, flies out of the window. She forgets that she's supposed to hate him, that she's supposed to think he's terrible, and instead, she kisses the boy she fancies. The one who she met, upon the thought, it might be good to be friendly it's the other champions. The one who she somehow befriended along the way. The one she was in the graveyard with on that fateful summer night, a cauldron boiling and an evil man returning.

       Because that is the ultimate thing: Holliday Lippincott is not just the new girl that managed to move from Durmstrang to Hogwarts, the cousin of bully Draco Malfoy, the Triwizard Champion. She's the daughter of Margo Valen, a Death Eater, a woman that used her skills and power in witchcraft for wicked reasons, later destroying countless lives — her owns included — to save her little girl. And then there's Harry Potter, the boy with his arms around her, making her heart beat faster. The boy who lived, the surprise Triwizard Champion, the boy who declared Voldemort was back. He's the son of James and Lily Potter, a man and a woman that died to save their child, that sacrificed themselves for their little boy.

       They aren't supposed to be friends, they aren't supposed to like each other in the slightest — but then it boils down to that question she whispered. Why can't I hate you?

       Holly pulls away, her hands still pressed against his jaw. Harry looks like he's in shock, and she can feel her cheeks burn pink. But quickly he smiles, in this way that she finds wonderful, and she smiles softly.

       This boy.

—✧—✧—✧—✧—

was it worth it i hope it was :-)

also!!!!! yes, holly is making some bad decisions,,, but!! let's keep in mind that holly's mind-set is a little difficult due to what happened at durmstrang and obviously her actions are going to reflect that. like she's used to a place where the way to survive is through being sneaky and cunning and getting on the sides of people you hate. not straight-up having a dumbledore's army. so just let her have her character arc during ootp thx (also speaking of the first dada lesson where she says she didn't see voldemort, there was never ever a moment where i thought she'd say she saw him. like umbridge reminds holly of karkaroff so obviously she's not going to go against her, or at least, with umbridge being aware of it.)