[ Real quick there is the briefest mention of suicide and alcoholism. Like, for a couple of paragraphs, just part of a back-story — but if this makes you feel uncomfortable, you've been warned. ]

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FIVE HIGH HOPES

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       HOLLY'S GOT HIGH HOPES for the Slytherin Quidditch team, and for this whole school year in general. She's going to ace the Quidditch matches — they might not win every one, but, a win's far better if you have equally good competitors, and you have to fight to win — and she's going to sort this mess out with April Hertz. Everything will be fine, she knows it will.

       But the next morning, she can't spot April in the Great Hall. She can, however, see Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table, so she leaves her friends, promising to sit with them in their lessons together ("Yes, Pansy, even if I'm going out with Potter — I'm not saying I'm doing him, what the hell... I haven't done that yet.") regardless of her 'new' alliance with certain Gryffindors.

       Holly smiles at him as she takes a seat, grabbing a couple slices of toast.

       "So where were you yesterday?" she asks.

       "Ask your cousin," says Harry.

       Holly raises an eyebrow.

       "Don't get angry," says Harry. Holly looks at him cautiously, slowly buttering her slice of toast. "But you know yesterday when you went to sit back with your friends?" She nods slowly, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "Well, I might have followed you in the Invisibility Cloak to see what Malfoy was up to..." He slows down to look at her. She frowns at him, trying to make him continue. "And he realised... So he Full Body-Binded me and broke my nose and tried to send me back to London..."

       "Oh," says Holly.

       "I would've told you," says Harry. "I wasn't spying on you—"

       "Yeah, yeah, whatever, I know," says Holly, taking a bite of toast. She shrugs her shoulders. "You're fine now... And there wasn't really any point following me. He just said that stuff to impress the others."

       Harry frowns. "So you're not angry?"

       "I like how you expect me to be angry, but you still did it," says Holly.

       Harry pauses for a minute, wincing. "I love you?"

       "Yeah, I know," says Holly, rolling her eyes. She starts to slather strawberry jam on top of the other slice of toast, ruefully thinking about the amount of strawberries she didn't eat when they were in-season. Now the ones in supermarkets are the gross kind forced to grow from chemicals. "Speaking of how you love me..." Harry frowns. Holly smiles sweetly. "Do you remember in fourth year, when I was telling you my completely correct theory about Barty Crouch Jr. being Moody?"

       "Yeah..."

       "And how, when I said Barty Crouch Sr. probably went through with the plan because his wife loved their son and obviously since he loved his wife he would go through with it, I asked if you'd do anything for your wife — like, to prove my point—"

       "Wait—"

       "So — could you do me a favour?" she asks, and smiles sweetly, batting her eyelashes. 

       "We're not married," he replies.

       Susannah cackles further down in the hall. "YET!"

       "I know," says Holly, rolling her eyes. "I'm still Lippincott, aren't I?" 

       "Well — yeah — but—"

       "Can you do me a favour?" says Holly, giving him a look. She was only providing the example so she could jump straight into the question she'd like to ask. But apparently the mention of marriage is enough to send him into a panic. God. And he's meant to save them all from Voldemort. "Yes or no?"

       Harry frowns. "OK?"

       "There's a girl in Gryffindor called April Hertz," says Holly. She glances around for a second, a little thankful that there's a large gap between them and others sitting at the table, eating their breakfast. Holly still doesn't like the idea of this getting around. "She's the one I couldn't hurt... Could you look out for her? For me?"

       Harry nods once, before a thought seems to cross his mind. He frowns at her. "What does this girl look like?" he asks.

       "Uh, short, ginger hair but not of the Weasley variety," says Holly, her brows furrowing. She can see the worry on his face, and she feels worried herself. "Hopefully she'll forgive me... If I explain myself, and if I apologise, then surely she'll be able to forgive me..."

       "I wouldn't count on that," says Harry quietly.

       Holly feels her stomach knot. "Why?"

       "I overheard some girl staying stuff about you yesterday, after the feast, and that's what she looked like..." says Harry. Holly raises an eyebrow, hoping he'll give some sort of example, but instead he frowns back at her. "Does it really matter, Hol, if she forgives you or not? She's one person, and you didn't mean to do what you did, and if she doesn't get that then you can't beat yourself up over it—"

       "What was she saying?" asks Holly.

       Harry looks at her for a minute, as if debating whether or not to tell her. From what he's said about if she doesn't get that, she's guessing that she implied she won't forgive Holly. Maybe she hates Holly... Holly frowns, looks down at her breakfast, no longer feeling hungry.

       "Don't get upset," says Harry.

       "Just tell me," says Holly.

       "All right," he says, sighing. She knows he doesn't want to reiterate what April said — but you know what? If someone's been saying nasty stuff about Holly, she'd like to know. And she knows that Harry wants to protect her from getting upset and all that — there's a reason she doesn't mention the stuff her cousin says about him — but still. She'd feel worse if she didn't know, and was left to wonder. "Don't get upset, though..."

       Holly nods, and Harry frowns still. "She thinks that you're evil, and that there's a reason you're in Slytherin," he says. Well, more like begins, Holly thinks, from the way he pauses, not finishes. "And after Ron told her to shut up—"

       "Ron—?"

       "Hermione stopped me," says Harry. "And yeah, Ron was on the other side of the common room so he got to them before Hermione could tell him not to..." Holly's immediately touched. She didn't realise she was that good friends with Ron or Hermione. "But then it got worse—"

       "When doesn't it?" says Holly, but instead of scoffing, or laughing, she looks at him closely. Her eyes are glassy and her heart hurts. April thinks she's evil?

       Harry smiles weakly at her, before he returns to frowning, a look of nervousness across his face. "Her friend said that we're going out—" He glances at Holly to make sure she agrees. Which normally would make her smile and call him cute, but instead, she nods once and looks at him, hurt. "And April said she didn't know how that would work. She thinks that as soon as there's the chance, you'll betray me for Voldemort — which I know isn't true, and it isn't true, you shouldn't listen to what she said—"

       "What else did she say?" asks Holly.

       "That's it," says Harry. "After she said that, Hermione asked her if she knew Hogwarts' policies on bullying, which shut her up... They sort-of stopped me from saying anything to her."

       "Oh," says Holly, and she grows quiet for a few minutes. Every so often Harry would try and mention that April doesn't know what she's talking about, but Holly would shut it down, quietly saying, "I know." But still, she sat there, and let the thoughts sit in her mind. Did people really think she'd save her own skin, betraying Harry in the process?

       She knows she probably would've done, a couple of years ago. But she's never had close friends like this before — she's never had a best friend like she has Pansy, or Draco, or even Harlow. She's never had people like Hermione and Ron, who she greatly underestimates the friendship between them... She's never been able to underestimate how close she is to someone else. At Durmstrang the closest she got were the girls in her dorm, who she latched onto — and even then, she wasn't really friends with them. They were there and that made do.

       But now, she has all of these friends. She has friends that don't encourage keeping quiet to survive, but rather, to live like you want. Sure, she didn't tell her group of friends for two years that she was friends with some of the Gryffindor lot, but still. They weren't that bad when Holly turned around and revealed that she was in love with one of them. They weren't exactly happy, but they let her get on with it.

       Holly isn't just on her own, not like she was at Durmstrang. At Hogwarts you look out for each other; your friends are extensions of your family. And that's the difference — at Durmstrang you made alliances, not friendships... The sort of alliances that fall through the floor the second someone's in trouble. (Which I did when Harry told Umbridge about the graveyard... she thinks, and instantly, she feels even worse.)

       But she knows now, that if something happens, she isn't going quietly. She's going to stand up for what's right. She is not backing down this time, not again. She'll fight for what's right — she'll fight for a world where her dad's safe, where her friends are safe. One more time.

       "Thanks for telling me," says Holly, smiling softly at him. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

       "Not today, no," says Harry, grinning back at her.

       A couple minutes pass and Ron and Hermione join them, sitting down either side of Harry and Holly.

       "But he can't really think we'd continue Care of Magical Creatures!" says Hermione, as Holly takes a bite of one of the apples sitting in the middle of the table. "I mean, when has any of us expressed... you know... any enthusiasm?"

       "Wait, what?" says Holly, her eyes widening. "I thought you guys loved that subject."

       Hermione turns away, and in horror, whispers, "Oh, no."

       "That's it, though, innit?" says Ron. He picks up an entire fried egg with his fork, and shoves it into his mouth. Holly eats her apple. "We were the ones who made the most effort in classes because we like Hagrid. But he thinks we liked the stupid subject. D'you reckon anyone's going to go on to N.E.W.T.?"

       There's silence, because the four of them know the answer.

       McGonagall appears, handing out the timetables for the Gryffindors. She quickly accepts Hermione's chosen subjects, and as soon as she's done, Hermione bolts off in the direction of the Ancient Runes classroom... Wherever that is, Holly thinks.

       Holly gets up and runs back over to the Slytherin table, where Pansy shakes her head at her. Snape's still speaking to Crabbe, thankfully, meaning he's still got to get to her. Holly sits down next to Harlow whilst she waits. The smell of his porridge wafts through the air. Dad loves porridge, she thinks, and begins to avoid looking down at the bowl.

       It's Holly's turn eventually, and she looks up at Snape, who continues to frown distastefully at whatever exam results he's currently focused on. He looks at her like he looked at Crabbe's a little while back. Holly's a little annoyed?

       "Lippincott..." he begins, enunciating the two t's that she wants to wince. "Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Transfiguration, Potions... You can continue all of these with your results."

       "Cool," says Holly, with a smile that isn't reciprocated.

       She stays at the Slytherin table to take a look at Pansy's timetable, once she receives hers. To her side Goyle's glaring at his, and the glare grows even worse when a boy with dark hair walks up to them.

       "Uh, Greg..."

       Holly's eyes widen, almost bulging in shock. Greg?

       "I thought I told you to bugger off—"

       Holly faintly remembers every single time Crabbe and Goyle had, without any regard for the feelings of others, carried through Draco's wishes. So she smiles at the boy.

       "Who are you, then?" she asks, rather loudly.

       "Elijah," says the boy.

       "Fascinating," says Holly, grinning still.

       It's taken three years but Goyle finally wants to kill you, says Draco.

       "Actually, uh," says Elijah. He must be a third year, at least. He looks young. His cheeks still have a little chubbiness from being young. He also looks the slightest bit intimidated by Holly, which after seeing Neville Longbottom's eyes widen every time he saw her near him, isn't unusual to her. "I was going to ask my brother something... But if you're already here..."

       Holly frowns. What does she have in common with Goyle?

       "I was wondering if the Quidditch team's open to all years?" says the boy. Holly forgot about that. She's yet to watch Crabbe and Goyle try out, and smile and say, not this year, guys. "Me and my friend were worrying if we're still too young to try out..."

       "It's open for everyone," says Holly. She smiles at Elijah. "How old are you?"

       "Fourteen in December," he says.

       She likes how he avoids saying he's thirteen. She did, too.

       "Cool," says Holly, smiling still.

       She wishes the boy — apparently Gregory Goyle's younger brother — the best of luck in the try-outs at the end of the week. When he leaves, Draco scoffs at Holly, and she rolls her eyes, before Goyle begins to grumble. "I can't believe I'm related to that scrawny git," he says.

       "I know the feeling," says Draco, smirking at Holly.

       "You know what, Malfoy—?" Holly starts, but before she can finish her meaningless threat, Goyle grunts loudly.

       Holly exchanges a look with Draco.

       Is that Troll for something? she asks.

       No, says Draco. It's just Goyle for 'I hate my brother.'

       Ooooooooh, why? she asks.

       He could just hate him, says Draco.

       But you said 'could,' which suggests there is an actual reason why he hates him, she replies. Draco gives her a cold look. Holly smiles smugly. So... Wanna share?

       Apparently, Goyle's younger brother doesn't have the same father as him, says Draco, and as he explains this, Holly's eyes widen with intrigue. Goyle's mum has never said it for definite, but you can tell. They don't look that alike... So Goyle hates him, blames him for how often their parents argue.

       That's not nice, says Holly.

       That's just pureblood families, says Draco. For a minute Holly wonders if her cousin will say something insightful that suggests he doesn't completely believe the idea that purebloods are better, but then he says, all monarchies have their problems.

       You know I'm half-blood, right? says Holly.

       Yes, says Draco. And did you have any problems growing up?

       Well, we were kinda sorta in debt when I was little because my dad was still studying for his degree, says Holly, and across the table she gives her cousin a look. She knows he expected her to be all 'my life has been sunshine and rainbows.' Well. Rainbows, yes. Her dad's gay. And then when I was five my dad's best friend died and my dad kinda sorta became dependent on alcohol and for a brief minute he wanted to die too and he had to go to this hospital and my grandma had to stay in London with me which meant my grandparents were in debt because she had spent so much on the airplane ticket from Los Angeles to London. And then—

       I get it, says Draco. He pauses. I didn't realise that.

       There's a reason I admire my dad's strength, says Holly. And yeah, I suppose you didn't... Just because I grew up differently doesn't mean I grew up without any problems.

       Draco looks across the table at her and nods. She knows he won't apologise — at least, in the manner of saying the words, 'I am sorry.' The fact that he said he didn't realise what went on with her dad is the closest she'll get to an apology. But she's fine. She doesn't care that much about what happened when she was younger... She and her dad used to laugh about it, because what else are they going to do? Wallow in misery that, once upon a time, his best friend — Holly's godfather — was so miserable that he killed himself, and then her dad, unable to cope with the grief and a kid and university that he turned to alcohol, and then had to get sectioned for being suicidal? No.

       There's a reason her dad jokes about being scared about beer, there's a reason she nonchalantly talks about Crucio. It's a way of coping.

       "Hol!" says Pansy, stealing the seat between Holly and Crabbe.

       She didn't realise until then, that Crabbe must have been inching further and further away from her. He's probably scared empathy's contagious, or something... Especially empathy for Gryffindors.

       (Could you imagine, thinking that they're not evil? Wow! Or maybe, looking at one of them and literally feeling your entire heart swell like a Looney Tune? Could you imagine, seeing one of them with messy black hair and a scar that messes up his annoyingly clear skin — because seriously, from the summer at Grimmauld Place she knows that those boys don't bother with skincare and it's fucking annoying, how Holly's entire wealth is spent on good moisturiser and night cream and then those pricks can just wake up, not even wash their face and still have perfectly clear skin? It's a little offensive. Actually, no. It's very offensive. One day she's going to use her skill at everything and her dad's brain to make some potion that clears skin. And they'll be super rich and her dad — her dad... She might jinx the future if she expects him to come back... Never mind.)

      "I've got a free first," says Pansy, thrusting her timetable onto the table. She takes a hold of Holly's timetable — soon to be copied up into her planner, sparkly pink ink and all —and within seconds, she lets out a bark of laughter. "History of Magic?"

       "If I want to take over the world, I need to know how it began," says Holly, shrugging her shoulders. "If Voldy was doing that, he'd already run the Ministry."

       "Don't call him that," says Draco.

       Holly ignores him, and ignores the worry on Pansy's face. "Yeah, uh, the Wizengamot recommend taking History of Magic... I thought I told you?"

       "No," says Pansy, frowning.

       Oh, no. She told Harry.

       She's a terrible best friend.

       "I'm sorry, Pans, it must've slipped my mind," says Holly, but in her head she's thinking, fuck fuck fuck fuck she's going to hate me what if I forget to tell her something else that's super important and I screw up my friendship with my bestest friend in the entire universe? Because yeah, I told Harry but like he's not my best friend no he's my boyfriend and until that becomes husband he isn't more important than my best friend no he can't that's like the first rule of having a best friend and I'm a terrible one oh my God—

       "That's fine," says Pansy.

       "It is?" says Holly.

       Pansy nods, clearly unbothered. "You were busy during exams," she replies. "It's not a big deal."

       "Oh," says Holly. "Well, OK..."

      "Have you got History of Magic now?" says Draco. Holly nods, and he begins to stand up, taking his timetable with him. "I've got a free period, but I'll walk that way with you — I want to be alone, Parkinson."

       Holly gives Draco a look. He doesn't seem to care.

       He just looks tired... He always looks tired nowadays, she thinks. For the past few weeks she's noticed the purple gathering below his eyes, contrasting deeply with his paling skin. It's beginning to worry her... How he always looks distant, how he was sitting there, in the Start of Term Feast, with his eyes staring into nothingness, like he had something too important on his mind to think about the upcoming school year. She knows it's her cousin's way of dealing with his dad in prison, but still. She wants to help.

      "What was that about?" says Draco, as he and Holly exit the hall, Holly looking at Harry apologetically because she didn't return to sit back with him. Maybe she's not just a terrible best friend, maybe she's a terrible girlfriend too... "You accidentally thought all of that to me."

       "Oh," says Holly.

       And now she can't even keep her thoughts in her own skull? What the fuck, Holliday? She used to be the Slytherin Champion, she's meant to sort out their Quidditch team, and she can't even vent in her head without mucking that up and thinking it to her cousin? What is wrong with her?

       "You shouldn't be that hard on yourself," says Draco quietly. "Look, both you and I know that Pansy worships the ground you walk on — she's not going to think you're terrible, just because you forgot to mention something to her..." He pauses for a minute, and they walk down the empty corridor where her History of Magic lesson's going to be. "You've been hard on yourself lately."

       "What do you mean by that?" she says.

       "I mean," says Draco, frowning at her. He stops walking, standing to the side of the corridor to speak to her. "You've been sounding a lot like Margo—"

       "And?" says Holly, her brows furrowing. "My mother is brave and kind and wonderful — sometimes she isn't very nice but that's because she had been in prison for so long... You don't know what that does to someone, do you? She's a little irritable, but can you blame her? She doesn't mean it—"

      "Uncle At isn't like that," says Draco, trying to stay calm. "And neither will my dad be, when he gets out."

      "Oh, well, isn't that great for them—!"

      "He has a point," says Susannah, appearing next to Holly. Her feet are inches above the floor, closer than she's ever been to touching the ground again. Holly frowns at her, and Susannah looks at her gravely. "He does! For once the idiot's speaking some sense."

       "Yeah, but Suze, you were in a cult," says Holly.

       "Yeah, but Holly, I've been dead since the sixties and I've had some time to think about things," says Susannah, giving her a look. Draco, oddly, doesn't look too confused. Maybe it helped, the amount of times she handed the diamond necklace over to Draco to make him speak to Susannah. "Don't get bitchy, yeah?"

       Holly feels her stomach sink. She has a point.

       "Yeah, uh," she begins. "Sorry, Draco."

       "It's fine," says Draco, looking more confused by the apology than her turning to argue with the ghost of an ex-cult member. "Just — don't be so hard on yourself—?"

       "How am I supposed to organise an entire Quidditch team, when I can't even keep my thoughts in my own brain?" she interrupts. No offense, she adds, and then realises how ironic it is to add that, after what she's just said.

       "By being Holly Lippincott, that's how."

       Holly, for some reason, feels completely and utterly lifted by this. She can't explain how, or why, but that's enough to remind her of what her dad used to tell her before primary school sports' days — 'You're Holly Lippincott, you go and get 'em, kiddo!'

       What her cousin says is, miraculously, enough for Holly to feel her spirits lift again, from being pushed down by April and her own brain. She forgot one thing, everyone forgets sometimes. And fuck, she can sort out the Slytherin Quidditch team, and she sure as hell is going to make them so damned good that they win the entire cup — they'll take all of 'em fuckers and blow 'em away!

       So she walks into her History of Magic lesson with her head a little higher, her expression a little brighter, and she takes a sit, front and center. She's going to ace this class, she's going to ace Potions next. She's going to ace this entire year, from classes to Quidditch.

       Blow 'em away, one more time.

       Professor Binns rises. "I believe it is just you—"

       The door flies open, and she sees Neville burst through the door. He instantly yelps out an apology for being late, and then he sees Holly, and he freezes.

       Holly smiles awkwardly, and takes her bag off of the seat next to her, gesturing for Neville to sit down next to her. Timidly he sits next to her, and Holly smiles politely at him, before she glances at the front of the classroom, where a projected image of some troll in Sheffield is being displayed.

       "The N.E.W.T. course for History of Magic focuses mainly on the seventeenth and twentieth centuries, and for this reason, you will need written permission from your parents or guardians declaring you can comfortably learn about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... However, for now, we begin at the beginning of the seventeenth century, during the Battle of Mablethorpe, where two clans of trolls..."

       "Hey, um," says Neville, whispering quietly. "Thanks."

       "No worries," says Holly, smiling brightly.

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you were supposed to meet the new and improved slytherin quidditch team but since i want them to have a proper good introduction, not just slapped onto the end of a chapter where holly's self-esteem is all over the place. and since i want to show holly's first lessons so the half-blood prince plotline is properly established in this, i'm waiting until chapter seven until the slytherin quidditch team's introduction. but i promise you'll like it. :-)

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed, and let me know what you thought!

(also do u like the new cover because i am in love)