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TWENTY-SEVEN PATH TO POWER

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       VIVIEN THE DRAGON sits on Holly's shoulder as she makes the trek from the library back to her common room; her friends keep on saying that she's getting a little ahead of herself, already making notes and revision material for her O.W.Ls in the upcoming summer term, but then, the muggle upbringing of hers motivates her to walk off in the direction of the library. Holly remembers the test she took at the start of her final year of primary school, and how she was practicing for that months in advance. O.W.Ls seem to be a lot more important than a test to get into schools she doesn't even attend. Why should she leave the revision until Easter? It seems silly to her... It also worries her. She likes being prepared.

       So she's made her notes on their past couple Charms lessons, figuring she'll be able to practice properly with her friends closer to the time, but for now, a little theory never killed nobody. Holly walks back through the hallways, minding her own business, dreaming of the book she's going to read before she goes to bed, injecting her dreams with tales of Frankenstein and his monster — and then, as she turns the corner, she sees three people dotted across an area of the hallway, all wearing different forms of concentration and glaring at seemingly nothing.

       Holly frowns at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. 

       "What—What are you doing?"

       Harry spins around.

       "Dobby said there was a room here," says Harry.

       Holly looks at the brick wall. "There isn't."

       "No, it only appears when you really need it," says Harry.

       Ron nods in agreement. For a minute, Holly looks at them incredulously, before she remembers her disbelief when this said, that dog is Sirius Black, and the dog was, in fact, Sirius Black. So she looks at the wall. "How does it know you need it?" she asks.

       "Dobby said to walk past this bit of wall three times, concentrating hard on what we need," says Harry. Holly nods, feeling her cheeks burn a little.

       For the past few days the amount of little glances during lessons has increased between the two — and by the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces the following morning, they're fully aware that Holly and Harry kissed... And that neither of them has mentioned it since, because really, they haven't had the alone time to do so. Holly's been roped into homework help, and all of this revision means that by midnight, she's too tired to sneak to the kitchens.

       "Is it going to be for the—?" says Holly, breaking herself off to make some sort of expression that alludes to Defence lessons. Harry nods, and behind him, Hermione looks at her warily.

       "We were going to find you earlier, but, um, we're planning on having the first one tonight," says Hermione, lowering her voice so much that the end of the sentence is her mouthing the words. Holly nods. In all honesty, she's still used to talking quietly in hallways. You never know who's beyond the next corner. "As in, a few minutes' time, um..."

       Harry begins, "We've been trying to find you—"

       "It's fine," says Holly, eyeing them, and their slight panic. As if she's going to snap and get offended that they hadn't gotten around to telling her. She knows, and it makes sense they haven't been able to find her — they won't dare speak with her friends around, and since dinner's she been hidden in the library. It's not surprising they couldn't let her know, and she does know, so she isn't bothered. "I've been in the library since dinner, I'm trying to get a head start on O.W.Ls—"

       "You're already revising?" says Ron, his eyes widening.

       Holly shrugs. "I want to be head girl," she says, because to her, that's her main motivation. She isn't a prefect, she wants to be chosen as the head girl when the time comes, so she needs the best grades to be seen in the crowd. "So you're supposed to walk up and down three times?"

       Ron nods. Holly, petting Vivien the Dragon who's still perched on her shoulder, follows them with pacing up and down, and she thinks to herself, hello, strange fellows, it would be really cool if you could give us a nice little place to practice defence because, I'm not sure if you know, there's this awful teacher here at the moment and — again, I'm not sure if you know, old wise ones — I once went to this nightmare of a school where the nice teachers were like her and I think if you've ever had the displeasure of meeting her, you know that's a surprising thing to say. So, it would be really appreciated if we had somewhere to practice for the time being, because the world is sort-of up turning upside down and for some reason no one thinks we should be able to defend ourselves. Thanks!

       "Harry," says Hermione, and Holly glances towards the wall, as a large, polished door appears. Harry turns around, just as Ron and Hermione do the same, all four gazes on the door now in sight.

       She moves to stand in line with Hermione, as Harry steps forwards to pull open the door. Holly glances at Ron, who looks just as wary as she is. Is this normal, for magical standards? Durmstrang never had these sort of things. Or maybe it did, but they were so hidden they were essentially non-existent — so hidden no one could prove they were ever there. Maybe the wonderful witch that opened her old school had countless hidden rooms, hidden treasures around the school, but due to it's current turn in morality, these marvels were hiding, sulking that the school had turned into what it is.

       Holly moves her shoulder to readjust her bag strap, so it won't slide down. Ron and Hermione follow Harry into the room, and for a second Holly frowns, before sighing, and thinking, may as well. By the sounds of things — by this, she means what Hermione quickly whispered to her when both were in the girls' toilets earlier today — this is where the Defence meeting's going to be, so she may as well get a look at the place.

       So she follows them, the nervousness washing away like sand in the sea the instant that she steps inside the room. Bookcases cover the walls, with shelves dedicated to mysterious defensive instruments, the sort she remembers Not-Moody displaying in his office last year. Cushions are piled in one area of the room, which Ron quickly points out will be highly beneficial when they start Stunning.

       Holly places her schoolbag next to one of the bookcases, as more people begin to arrive. Vivien the Dragon remains on her shoulder, every so often coughing and trying to produce fire, but instead, creating a tiny cloud of smoke around her mouth. She can breathe fire when she's larger, but for that reason, Holly's keeping her small enough to avoid any accidental fires. (But it's comforting to know that her pet, when enlarged, can breathe fire...)

       The others all arrive, standing around inside the room. She sees Harry turn away from addressing Dean, to look at the rest of them. For a second they exchange a look, and she smiles softly at him.

       "Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and — er —" Harry pauses. Holly frowns, and in the corner of her eye she sees Zacharias Smith look at her. He seems to be wary of the dragon on her shoulder. "What, Hermione?"

       "I think we ought to elect a leader," says Hermione.

       "Harry's leader," says Cho.

       Vivien tries to growl, but due to her size, it sounds too high-pitched to be anything scary. Holly frowns at the dragon. She knows that, at the start of last year, Harry fancied Cho, but there's nothing there. Cho's just being nice, because of Cedric and the whole ordeal at the graveyard last summer. Vivien's just excited by the amount of people, really. She doesn't have venomous teeth like an actual Vipertooth would, but she likes to act like she does.

       "Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," says Hermione, looking around at the rest of them. "It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So — everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?"

       Holly's one of the first to raise her hand. All of them do so, and she watches Zacharias Smith hesitate before doing so. Vivien hovers a couple inches above Holly's shoulder until he raises his hand, and Holly feels four small sets of claws settle back onto her shoulder.

       "Er, right, thanks," says Harry, his cheeks going red. "And — what, Hermione?"

       "I also think we ought to have a name," says Hermione, standing with her hand raised in the air, like they're in a classroom. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

       And the room springs into a multitude of suggestions. Anti-Umbridge League. The Ministry of Magic are Morons Group. At one point Hermione points out that these are a little transparent, which makes complete sense, even if Holly likes the sound of both. The Defense Association, the D.A. is suggested, and it's added to. "Only, let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?" says Ginny, and there's a murmur of agreement throughout the room.

       "All in favour of the D.A.?"

       There's a pause. Vivien breathes smoke, giving up and curling up on Holly's shoulder.

       "That's a majority — motion passed!"

       Hermione walks towards the wall and pins the list of names onto the walls, with the words Dumbledore's Army written above them. Holly glances away, feeling her stomach sink. She feels bad, not having her name on there. But she's scared — that's the thing. Holly wishes she was brave enough to stand up against anyone bad, anyone evil, but she isn't. She's scared of Voldemort. She's scared of Umbridge — or, at least, what Umbridge can do. She's still scared of Karkaroff. And, if she's being honest, she's scared of dying.

       Like she should. She knows that a lot of the people around her, right now, are willing to fight for what's right, but don't they get it? Death is permanent. There's nothing after — and if you have the displeasure of becoming a ghost, you're going to have an incredibly shitty time watching others live when you cannot. Sometimes she wonders if these lot understand that. Yes, she wants to do what's right, but you know what? She's scared of getting hurt. She knows what it's like to think you're about to die, to feel even the air turn sinister, and it's terrible.

       Holly wants to be a part of the Dumbledore's Army. She wants to be able to do the right thing without thinking beforehand what option's right and what option's easy, because she knows that she forcibly merged the two whilst at Durmstrang, to make herself feel less guilty. Because she hopes if all of this transpires into a war — the sort her grandfather and her great-grandpa always told her tales about — she'll be able to, by then, know what's right and what's easy, and choose right. And if she wants that, she needs to begin the steps — and that includes learning  more defensive skills.

       "Right, shall we get practicing then?" says Harry, as the excitement over the group's name settles, and it's quiet enough for him to speak and for everyone to hear. "I was thinking the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful."

       "Oh, please," says Zacharias Smith. He folds his arms pompously, rolling his eyes at the idea. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

       "I've used it against him. It saved my life last June," says Harry. Holly grimaces, and she crosses her arms, looking down at the floor. "But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave."

       Holly taps Vivien, alerting her. "Vivien, taunt," she says, pointing towards the bratty little boy in question. Hopefully this will work, she thinks, remembering the countless evenings recently where she's tried to teach Vivien the new trick. She likes to think it'll be useful in the future, especially if Vivien's a full-size dragon, fire and everything.

       Vivien pounces off of Holly's shoulder and flies over towards him, sitting on his shoulder and breathing smoke onto his ear, trying her very best to growl. Holly, once again, exchanges a look with Harry, who already looks pissed off.

       "OK," says Harry, following the silence across the room. Vivien leaves Zacharias Smith alone, happily landing back on Holly's shoulder. Sometimes it's evident that Vivien's dragon species likes to eat humans. Vivien seems to get a kick out of fear. "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

       Everybody splits up into pairs. Very quickly the crowd around Holly becomes thinner and thinner, leaving her on her own, without a partner. She knows why, the green on her uniform is enough to explain that, to explain the looks a lot of the others give her. She's not meant to be here, she knows a lot of them think that. She's Malfoy's cousin. She's best friends with Pug-Faced Parkinson. She's a wicked one to them.

       "Hol," says Harry. "You can practice with me."

       Hol? Since when did he call her Hol?

       Holly smiles softly. "Thanks."

       Hol Hol Hol Hol. Holly's in shock. She feels as if this is the sort of revolutionary event that she needs to write home about. Shit, this is big. Hol. Hol! Maybe she should let Atticus know, too, this is important. Pansy's definitely being informed the instant she returns to her dorm room. He called her Hol. What. The. Fuck.

       "Right — on the count of three, then — one, two, three —"

       Instantly the room's filled with countless voices shouting, "Expelliarmus!" Holly raises her wand, her eyes narrowing for a second. She waits a couple seconds, for him to look around the others sending others' wands into the air, before she moves into the proper stance and says, "Expelliarmus!"

       Harry's wand flies into the air. Holly smiles smugly.

       "I win," she says, picking up his wand and handing it back to him.

       He gives her a look. Jokingly, she thinks, because he has the smallest of smiles on his face, and if he were actually annoyed, he wouldn't be smiling at her. "You know in a proper duel, your opponent will actually be prepared—?"

       "Yeah, but you'll be against a Death Eater — or You-Know-Who yourself, considering you're you," says Holly, and she shrugs. "They don't care about chivalry, that's why fake-Moody always talked about constant vigilance." She pauses, smirking at him. "You're just annoyed that I beat yo—"

       "Expelliarmus!"

       Holly's wand goes flying. She looks at Harry in surprise.

       "I... hate you?"

       "I thought you said constant vigilance—"

       Holly rolls her eyes at him, as he hands her wand back. She quickly becomes aware that, whilst they're not standing very close, they're still near each other, smiling and joking around. So she inches backwards a little, crossing her arms, because yeah, her friends would never believe these lot over her, but still, she shouldn't give these students something to tell her friends, should she?

       "Listen, Holly, can you take it in turns to practice with Ron and Hermione for a couple of minutes so I can walk around and see how the rest are doing?" says Harry.

       So Holly nods, and wanders off to where the other two are practicing, smiling weakly when she explains she has no partner and if she can go with them. She leaves out the fact that most of the people here either dislike her, or are scared of her... That Neville Longbottom boy still seems to be frightened by her. And she knows it's because of her cousin — but really, she's not as bad as him. She's the one that could probably find the strength to successfully use the Killing Curse, but you know, she wouldn't.

       She practices with them for a little, taking it in turns duelling each other. Both of them are really good, which she isn't surprised about. She has a feeling that getting roped into Harry's misadventures has probably called for them to be above-average, when it comes to defensive spells.

       "You're really good at this, Holly," says Hermione, smiling. "Did Durmstrang—?"

       "Oh, no, they only taught the nasty stuff — until last year I hadn't been taught defensive magic, just the dark arts," says Holly, and she shrugs, trying to brush off three years of nightmare-fuel. Like the similarities between Umbridge's speeches and the ones she heard at her old school, reminding them that they're on the path to power, but that this path is narrow, that they must work hard to get themselves on the steps. Like the sight of the bloodquill on Harry's hand doesn't remind her of her old headmaster and consequently make her feel sick. Like she's fine. "But it's fine! They taught us how to win a duel."

       Ron frowns. "How to win?"

       She nods. "Yeah, like, the right time to strike," says Holly. "So, for example, in this room, you'd wait until someone else casts the spell and your partner looks over to them, and then you'd catch them off-guard. And then having quick reflexes, but that was the sort of thing they only taught to the best people in the duelling club."

       Her Dark Arts professor looks around the room, as he explains, "To improve your reaction time, I shall attempt to curse you, and you have to deflect it." They all nod; the boy standing next to Holly gulps, but she keeps her gaze straight ahead, watching the first student stand up. Their professor was an expert in non-verbal magic, and for this reason, when he moves his wand, and the student's a couple seconds too late, those watching have to stifle surprise, as the girl falls to the floor, screaming. Holly realises he meant he was going to use Cruciatus, and her teeth grit together, preparing herself for her turn...

       "Anyway — Expelliarmus!"

       They continue practicing for a little while longer. Holly keeps on having to shake off the memory of the duelling club at Durmstrang, squeezing her eyes shut to try and think of something else. Eugene's pet dog, a Dalmatian called Spot. The next-door-neighbour's cat, an ugly grey beast called Princess. Flo Montague's pet toad, who thoroughly enjoys stealing people's sweets in the common room.

       "Do you think anyone's checked the time?" says Hermione, frowning at the pretty gold watch around her wrist. She looks up at Holly and Ron, who exchange a look, shaking their heads. "It's ten past nine..." Ten past curfew. Hermione looks further down the room. "Hey, Harry! Have you checked the time?"

       "Well, that was pretty good," says Harry. The shouts of Expelliarmus die down, and wands are lowered across the room. Vivien the Dragon sits upright on Holly's shoulder, having spent the majority of the meeting standing, constantly falling under the impression that whoever she was duelling was actually trying to hurt her. "But we've overrun, we'd better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?"

       "Sooner!"

       Angelina Johnson — Montague pointed her out to Holly the other day, since she's the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain — quickly says, "The Quidditch season's about to start, we need team practices too!"

       "Let's say Wednesday night, then," says Harry. Across the room people nod their heads. "And then we can decide on additional meetings then... Come on, we'd better get going..."

       He uses the Marauder's Map to let groups of three or four sneak back to their common rooms. Holly stands to the side until the end, figuring most people came with their friends, they'll probably want to leave with them, and not with some Slytherin walking next to them for a few minutes. So, she crosses her arms, watching the small dots on the Marauder's Map move around the school. She never got to see the map last year, she thinks it's cool.

       "That was really, really good, Harry," says Hermione, as the last batch of students disappear from the room. Holly walks across the room to get her schoolbag, and Vivien jumps into the air, flying close to Holly's head.

       When she returns to the three, Ron and Hermione are bickering over who was the better dueller. Holly smiles. "Well, I think I beat you both, but—"

       Ron snorts. "Oh, sure—"

       "You were being nice, were you?" says Hermione, smiling at her.

       Holly grins at them. She looks at Harry, who finally takes his gaze off of the map. "I'll be off, then," she says. Harry nods, with this goofy smile across his face. In the corner of Holly's eye, she can see Ron and Hermione exchanging a look. "Thanks for doing this, too."

       "Thanks for coming along," he says. "You were really good."

       "'Course I was," she says, shrugging. "I won the tournament too, remember?"

       Holly leaves the room before them, waiting until Harry nods, declaring that the nearest hallways are free of any teachers, or Filch, or Filch's cat. She gets back to the dungeons rather quickly, slipping in through the entrance to find the common room deserted and completely silent, with the exception of the lake on the other side of the windows. She figures that she isn't in any trouble, because if someone noticed she was missing, she would've returned to find Snape looking at her with that nasty face of his.

       "What are you doing?"

       Holly freezes for a second, before she registers the voice.

       "What are you doing?" she questions, walking towards where Draco's sitting. He shoves some parchment into his bag before she can see it, and she frowns at him. "What's that?"

       "Something for Quidditch," he says.

      Holly frowns still. "Like, a plan, or something?"

      "Yeah," says Draco. Holly takes a seat at the table he was hidden away at, and she frowns. She doesn't think she's properly been alone with her cousin — she doesn't want to count all of that training last year, because it was essentially her demanding anyone test her on different jinxes whilst she's swimming laps in the lake. "So, where were you?"

       "It doesn't matter," says Holly. Draco gives her an odd look, because obviously she's hiding something, no one says it doesn't matter unless they're trying to keep something quiet. But he seems to drop it, the frown leaving his face. Holly frowns at him. "Can I ask you something?" Her cousin nods, frowning a little. "What do you actually think of Umbridge?"

       Draco looks at her for a minute, and she isn't sure if it's because he's surprised she's asking, or something else. "I think she's incompetent," he says finally, after a few minutes of silence, of Holly looking at him and waiting for him to say something. And he did not disappoint. Incompetent. Nice. She wishes she could tell Harry this, even he would appreciate Draco calling Umbridge that. "We're meant to be taking our O.W.Ls and we're given that fool of a teacher? And anyway... All of that stuff about the Dark Lord not returning... It's ridiculous."

       "You could've said something," says Holly. Draco looks at her like she's just as foolish as Umbridge, and she shakes her head. "No, not about You-Know-Who. About her being a dreadful teacher." Draco scoffs. "You could've."

       "You could've, too," says Draco, frowning.

       "I'm used to Durmstrang," says Holly.

       "The thing is," he says, and he lowers her voice, even though the room's empty. Her brows furrow. "We can't, can we? We need to pretend that everything is fine and that there's nothing to defend ourselves from, because when everyone finds out the truth, we'll be in for it. You, me, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle all need to keep down for now. If we act as if we want to know defensive spells, then they might think we all knew about him being back."

       Holly frowns, but she nods. "I suppose."

       "You spoke to him, didn't you? In the graveyard," says Draco, and she nods. Almost immediately he adds, "What was it like?"

       "I thought I was going to die," says Holly. She lets out a sigh, and she lowers her voice even more, before she says, "Atticus tried to hide me, but then he asked if I was there, and obviously he had to tell the truth, you know he would've known if he was lying... But thank Merlin you told your dad about the tournament, because H—Potter saw me and made it known to him that we're friends — which we're not, but he thought we were, and your dad stepped in and explained everything... So, thanks."

       Draco shrugs. "It's nothing."

       "Why'd you ask, though?" she asks.

       For a minute he frowns at her, before he lets out a sigh. "Do you remember how you weren't allowed to go into the north wing at my house, during the summer?" he says, and she nods. "He's there... And I haven't seen him, nor have I spoken to him, but I suppose if he's still there at Christmas, or in the summer, I'm bound to meet him at some point. I just wondered what he's like."

       "As long as you pretend and go along with what he wants, it's fine," says Holly. "I don't like this, you know? I wish we had the choice to actually stand against him... He isn't good, is he?"

       "Well, I—" Draco stops, after Holly frowns. "No, he's not."

       "But we've got no choice, have we?" says Holly, looking at him, dead in the eye. He looks a little uncomfortable by the conversation, and so's Holly, but she just wants to speak to someone about this. Pansy's parents liked the idea of Voldemort but they never got the mark. Harry's the actual chosen one, he won't understand this. But Draco does. "If we fight against him, he'll kill us. He'll kill our families..."

       "Do you think we'll become Death Eaters?"

       "I hope not," says Holly.

       Draco nods, as if he agrees. Both share a look of worry, and although this makes her feel a little upset, she's glad she's finally speaking to someone who gets it. "Crabbe and Goyle haven't even been thinking about this," he says, following a couple minutes of anxious silence. "I don't know about Nott. Every time I try and mention it, Capote acts as if I've insulted his family."

       "Why don't you... mention it when Harlow's out of the room?"

       Draco gives Holly a look. She thinks she's been spending too much time with Harry. What kind of question was that? Mention it when he's out of the room? Shit, Holly!

       "You should've been in Ravenclaw," he says, and she rolls her eyes. "If Capote isn't there, Nott will change the subject. So I don't know about him... But it's nice to know that someone else thinks the same about this..." He trails off. She raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Well, with the exception of wanting to fight."

       "Why not?"

      "Because I know what'll happen if I do," he says. "You don't." 

      "Yeah, I do!" she says, trying her best to keep her voice down despite her offence. She doesn't understand what's going on? Really? She was there at Grimmauld Place. She was at the graveyard. "I know what will happen, but I still want to—"

       Draco shakes his head. "No, it's different with you," he says. He moves his chair so he's sitting closer to her, so he can talk even quieter. "You weren't raised in a house of Death Eaters. You weren't raised to believe the Dark Lord was the right man. You weren't confused out of your mind when you got to this school and began to think if what you were raised to believe was actually true. You did not grow up like me, Holly — you lived in a nice home with your muggle father—"

       "How do you—?"

       "I figured it out," says Draco. "I overheard Uncle Atticus talking to my father, saying how your father's unable to protect you — he didn't say why, but I figured it out. You don't hide those muggle books that well, and your father was clueless when we were talking about our exams, when he visited last summer — I won't tell anyone, stop scowling."

       "I'm not scowling."

       "You're scowling."

       "Could you continue, maybe?" says Holly. "How I don't get how serious this is?"

       Draco scowls at her, and if she wasn't so concerned about what he thinks about how she doesn't get this, she'd point that out. "You were raised away from this, you weren't raised to believe a certain way, you weren't raised by parents who had lost friends and family because of the war — you weren't raised seeing your uncle every few months, saying how terrible Azkaban is, how his wife was still crying because she lost her daughter. Because she lost you," he says. "I know what this can do to people. You don't."

       "I do—!"

       "Your grandfather was in the army, wasn't he? He's around that age, the muggles had a war in the forties, didn't they?" he says, and Holly nods, frowning. She's not going to ask how he knows this. "And your great-grandfather, he must've been in the war before that." Holly nods. "So you grew up hearing stories about them being heroes. I didn't."

       Holly frowns. "Just because I was raised differently doesn't mean I don't understand the severity of all of this — believe me, I am aware of what could happen if anything goes wrong," she says, and instantly she thinks of Harry. "Don't belittle me."

       Draco looks at her, but she knows he won't admit that she sort-of has a point. But he looks away for a second, before he frowns at her. "You'll be fine," he says. "They might not even ask for you unless your mother returns. And she won't, Uncle Atticus says she's too broken nowadays..."

       "Listen," says Holly, and she grabs a hold of his arm, to make him look at her. "We're family, you said it yourself. If you get roped into this, I do too. We stick together." She lets go of his arm, and she raises her little finger. "Deal?"

       "Deal," he says.

      "No, Draco, you're supposed to link your little finger with mine, it's like a promise, you know, like shaking hands, but nicer, oh my God..."

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WELL.