Holly Potter: The Bookish, Burgling, Badass - Personfour - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter 1: A butterfly flaps its wings

Chapter Text

To say that Holly Potter was having an unusual day was something of an understatement. Not that it was unusual for her guardians to yell at her. That was quite normal. So was getting hit.

No, what was unique today was Uncle Vernon’s exceptionally bad mood. The words weren’t clear, but between hits he was blaming her for something.

You see, earlier that day something happened. Something so ordinary and mundane it seemingly wouldn’t matter at all. But like the butterfly flapping its wings and causing a hurricane, this action changed everything.

Today Vernon Dursley accidently bumped into his boss and spilled tea on him.

With his boss in a bad mood Vernon failed to receive a promotion hours later. Naturally, Vernon Dursley blamed this on freakishness from that girl. So he went home and took his temper out on her. Violently.

And after he beat Holly she triggered accidental magic that would change her life forever.

As Uncle Vernon stomped away, Holly was suddenly filled with an overwhelming desire to know why. Why did she get blamed for everything? Why did they hate her? Why did she have to live in the cupboard? Why was such a freak? Why was Dudley treated so much better?

Holly stared up at her aunt, wanting nothing more than to pluck the truth from her aunt’s mind. The moment that thought occurred to her, she felt a rush of something, and her head was filled with knowledge that wasn’t hers. Foreign thoughts flooded her mind and she had her answers.

Her Aunt hated her because she had magic and so did her parents. Not what Holly was expecting but it explained why odd things happened around her.

Holly looked up to see her Aunt rubbing her forehead. Knowing she needed to get out of sight, she forced her body upright and hobbled back into her cupboard. Better to escape now before she could be blamed for anything else.

Back in the cupboard, she wrapped her arms around her legs and thought over her new knowledge.

The Dursleys hated her, that she had already known. It was obvious. What was new is knowing why. That she had magic and that made her an inhuman freak to them. That Aunt Petunia hated her because, even though she couldn’t admit it, she was still jealous of her sister. That she would never be good enough.

And that it would never change.

They would never love her.

Once she accepted the truth the next step was obvious: she needed to get away. Her 11th birthday was only 3 weeks away and, unless her aunt’s memories were wrong, her Hogwarts letter would come before then. In a couple months she’d have a new place to live and be taught to use her magic.

Holly felt strangely calm waiting in the dark. She took off her bloodied clothes, wiped the drying blood off her face, and put on clean ones. There was a cool feeling slowly spreading through her body and it relieved her pain. Probably magic somehow. She didn’t understand but was grateful. Soon after the feeling faded, her body felt normal.

Once she heard Aunt Petunia start making dinner she crept out of her cupboard, grabbing what few clothes she did own in her arms. She stuffed them into one of Dudley’s old backpacks, grabbed his coat, and moved into the master bedroom.

Holly opened her Aunt’s jewelry cabinet and dumped everything into the backpack. She knew it was pointless to take since she couldn’t pawn it, but she was feeling petty. She snagged the cash from Uncle Vernon’s wallet, crept back downstairs, and out the front door.

She started walking towards the bus stop, elated in the knowledge she was free.

(Arabella Figg watched Holly Potter leave and, in an act of compassion, decided to cover for her. She knew that poor girl was abused. Knew she was starved. That, no matter what Albus said, she’d be safer anywhere else. She knew Holly would be alright, her Hogwarts letter would be coming soon. She’d get help there.

She watched as Holly Potter walked off into the night, knowing she may have already chosen to never return.)

Holly spent the next 2 weeks wandering the streets of London, honing her mind reading skills. It took a week for her learn how to passively scan the surrounding people for bad intentions or if she’d caught their attention. It’d kept her from getting caught stealing food several times already.

By the second week she’d refined her technique into what she called "skimming": stealing a tiny portion of a person’s memories and knowledge without leaving any obvious gaps. Taking more would help her learn faster but leaving large gaps would be too suspicious. Especially now that she knows exactly how paranoid the government types are.

Plus, it’d make her feel bad if she took too much and left someone clueless.

A week before her 11th birthday she was woken up to an owl pecking at her face with a letter tied to its leg.

“Ok ok, message received” she muttered and opened her letter as the owl took off. It was only addressed ‘Holly Potter’. Probably for the best, they’d probably be worried if it was accurately addressed: ‘Holly Potter, homeless bum’.

The letter didn’t tell her much she didn’t know from her aunt, but it did have directions to the wizarding shopping district.

Sometime later she was standing in front of a grimy door only she could see, wearing a newly stolen baseball cap. She felt stupid using it to disguise herself but her stolen memories from a SHIELD agent insisted it worked. She knew it’d be smart to keep a low profile in a new environment.

She still felt stupid.

She stepped through the door and surveyed the room. It was badly lit, with long tables and few people. On one side there was a loud drunk distracting people. Grateful nobody was paying her any attention, she made her way to the back, nodding to the barkeep as she passed. As a man opened an archway in the backroom, she barely stopped staring in time to duck through after him.

The street was bustling with people wearing odd robes, some of them clearly school shopping too. Shops lined the street advertising sales on everything from brooms to cauldrons to newt eyes. At the end of the street was the building her letter specified as Gringotts, the goblin-run Wizarding bank.

‘Well, better get some money first’ she thought and started making her way.

While skimming knowledge from minds, Holly had learned bits from thousands of minds, in all manner of jobs. As she learned from lawyers’ minds what wills and trusts were, something occurred to her: ‘If Aunt Petunia’s memories were right and my parents were murdered, shouldn’t they have left a will or instructions behind? Somehow I doubt they wanted Aunt Petunia to raise me’.

Holly waited patiently as the goblin teller finished working on his documents before he looked down at her “Yes?”

“Hello, I was hoping to access a vault today,” Holly stated, trying to not to look worried.

The goblin gave a subtle sigh before asking, “key please.”

“I don’t have one. My parents are dead and my guardians hate magic.” All (technically) true.

At that the goblin began looking interested “Name?”

“Holly Potter.”

The goblin simply narrowed his eyes slightly. “We’ll need to confirm your identity, come with me.”

She followed the goblin past the other tellers and down a hallway led into an office. She sat down in a chair as another goblin rummaged behind his desk, sliding a piece of parchment and knife towards her.

“Three drops of blood on the parchment,” Holly complied, mentally grumbling about how a thumbprint would work just ask well. She watched in awe as the blood soaked in and inked words started appearing on the page.

“Your identity has been confirmed, Miss Potter-Black. How can Gringotts help you today?”

Holly stared at her parents’ names, ignoring the rest. She hadn't known them before, her relatives refusing to say anything about them besides insults. For the first time in her life, they felt real. Not nameless people being slandered by her relatives. She wanted nothing more than to hug the parchment to her chest and cry tears of relief. But she was here for a purpose.

“I’d like to make a withdraw from my account.”

“Your parents died without leaving a will. All their accounts and assets are under your control. Which account would you like to withdraw from?”

Oh, duh. Her parents probably had separate accounts for their savings and retirement and junk. Better start with the basics.

“Can I get a list of my parents accounts and assets?” she asked.

Five minutes later she was staring at the desk now covered with papers listing her families’ various properties, investments, and a list of accounts with startlingly large numbers next to them. Even with her stolen accounting skills she was overwhelmed.

Oh wait, she had someone to ask for help.

She made sure to check his nameplate before asking “Mr. Gronuk, in your professional opinion, is there anything that requires my immediate attention?”

Apparently that was the right thing to ask because he immediately started detailing ways to update her investments. Ten years of sitting stagnant put a dent in her finances but she was still wildly rich. When Gronuk offered Gringotts services to manage her investments she gave her permission.

“With that handled, there’s a separate matter that you will likely wish to rectify.” He passed her a sheet, Metamorphmagus ability blocked standing out at the top. “If you were raised by muggles then it was likely blocked beforehand to preserve the Statute of Secrecy.”

“Metamorphmagus?”

“Shapeshifting, in muggle terms. It is an inheritable trait you received from your godfather’s bloodline after being blood adopted.”

Oh. Apparently shapeshifting is a thing and she can do it. Weird, but awesome. What else... oh yeah.

“I have a godfather? Where’s he been my whole life?” Holly asked.

“He has been in Azkaban, wizard prison, for 10 years.” Oh, well that’s a solid excuse.

“I’d like it unblocked. Can I get some school supplies from my vaults too please?”

---

Several hours later Holly walked out of Gringotts blissfully happy. Goblins, she decided, were the best.

Gronuk had found her what she’d forever call the Trunk. Not only did it belong to her mother, but it had a full apartment inside and a self-cataloging, searchable library with unlimited shelves. It was instantly her favorite possession.

(She may have squealed a bit when Gronuk showed it to her.)

Now it was filled with hundreds of books and other supplies from her vaults, shrunken, and safely hidden in her pocket.

She finished the rest of her school shopping in a happy daze, not the slightest bit bothered when the bookseller gave her an odd look for buying far too many books. Who cared if he thought it was weird for an 11-year-old to buy several basketfuls of books?

Even an unnerving encounter with Ollivander while buying her wand didn’t dent her mood. Sure, him staring at her for several minutes before bringing out a specific wand (holly and phoenix feather) and making an odd face as the wand lit up in her hand was uncomfortable.

Even more unnerving was Ollivander muttering "you will do great and terrible things" with no further explanation as she left. But that didn't matter. Now she had a wand!

She walked out of the Alley with her Trunk in her pocket, a bottomless backpack on her back, and a spring in her step.

That night Holly unshrunk her Trunk, took the longest shower of her life, and fell asleep instantly on her giant bed.

She woke up the next day, feeling ready to take on the world. Cracking her knuckles, she felt a cheshire grin forming. "One month of complete freedom. Time to have some fun."

Chapter 2: Year One

Chapter Text

The month before Hogwarts was undoubtedly the best of Holly's life. She had hundreds of books to read through, free reign to practice her shapeshifting, and an unlimited number of minds to learn from. Even getting food was easy once she’d stolen several pickpockets’ memories.

She knew she shouldn’t enjoy it but, well, it always gave her a thrill.

Strictly speaking she didn’t need to steal at all. She had altered her appearance to an elderly lady and taken Aunt Petunia’s jewelry to a pawn shop. Holly was shocked at how much money she was paid. The clerk probably thought she was dying. Regardless, imagining Aunt Petunia’s shrieking about her shiny things being pawned brought a smile to her face.

Even better was buying herself some properly fitting clothes. She finally got to choose what to wear and was loving the freedom. She went on a shopping spree in her excitement, made even better knowing she was using the money from Aunt Petunia’s pawned jewelry.

The excitement wore off fast after realizing how tough it was to find truly comfortable clothes. Especially with pockets. She knew she could use her shapeshifting to fit into anything but that probably wasn’t good for her long term. It was her first ever shopping trip, she was not going to compromise. It took a full day at the mall but by the end she finally had a proper wardrobe.

Holly spent most of her days reading at busy intersections, passively skimming the minds of the bustling crowds. She made sure to be extra light-touched on any government types. She knew exactly how bad it’d be to catch their attention. Any foul people had either vital information or all their job skills stolen, plus a severe headache as a parting gift. Every night she went back to her trunk apartment exhausted and fell asleep immediately.

She was disconnected from everyone and everything. Able to live her own life however she wanted. She needed nobody and nobody needed her. The complete freedom she had was incredible, she didn’t want to give it up.

As the term neared, Holly considered not going to Hogwarts but decided against it. She couldn’t practice magic on her own because of the Trace. How was she supposed to practice magic over the summer if it was tracked? That, she knew, she’d remove as soon as possible.

Another problem is that she was apparently stupidly famous.

Several of the books she’d read detailed her exploit of somehow killing a Dark Lord as a baby. It was ridiculous. If there were no witnesses who decided had that it was her that did it? The more she read the more certain she was that most wizards were touched in the head. Whatever the truth was, she sent Gronuk after them to sue for her share of the profits.

She was deeply grateful for that stupid baseball cap disguise for working during her shopping trip. Being recognized would’ve meant attention and getting questions. Both things to be avoided in her opinion.

Holly arrived at Kings Cross early, determined to go unnoticed. She was wearing a face slightly different from her own. Her normally blood red hair was cherry blond and straightened from her usual messy curls. Since her scar was apparently infamous, she’d tried to alter it but couldn’t for some reason. She resentfully donned her stolen baseball cap again to cover it. Altogether, Holly was certain she’d be unrecognized while vaguely similar enough if she had to shift back to normal quickly.

Holly walked through the train station, easily spotting the other magicals.

‘Why are they using luggage carts? The shrinking charm is a 2nd year spell? And seriously, why not send their owl ahead? They stick out like Uncle Vernon at the gym. Are people blind or are wizards that dumb? There must be some heavy memory modifying charms on the whole station.’

Internally muttering about the cluelessness of wizards, Holly claimed an empty cabin and pulled out a potions book to read. Soon enough she was sucked into the book, only vaguely hearing people settling in next to her.

Most 1st year potions seemed useless. What was the point of a potion that turned her head into a pumpkin? Or made someone forgetful? Why would she need herbicide? Or to remove boils?

It wasn’t until she read about more advanced potions that she realized what they could be capable of. That didn’t make memorizing complicated steps fun though. What she did find interesting was reading about the various ingredients’ interactions.

Potions wasn’t her favorite subject, that’d have to be either Charms or Defense, but it was interesting and useful. Transfiguration seemed like normal magic tricks until it got more advanced, especially since it was hard to make it permanent. Astronomy was interesting but not useful outside of creating potions and divination. Herbology was interesting and useful but she’d rather not lose a hand to a plant. History of Magic was fascinating as a subject but reading about wizards oppressing other races wasn’t good for pleasure reading (learning that Thor and Loki were real made her pinch herself to make sure she wasn't hallucinating). Flying on a broom sounded like watching natural selection in action.

After a few hours she ducked out to the bathroom to put on her robes and started reading again before anyone in her cabin could say anything. Mentally thanking social norms, her attention was consumed by the potions book again until she felt the train slowing.

As she got off the train she followed after the giant man and got into a boat with three other kids who looked too nervous to talk. As they set sail she started mentally grumbling again.

‘Is this more wizarding stupidity? Whose brilliant idea was it to cross a freezing lake in August on a dinghy?’

A second later she had her answer as she saw Hogwarts across the lake. ‘Oh, now that’s worth it.’ Even the chatty boats in the front were silent, except one particularly talkative girl, staring at the towering castle in awe.

As they disembarked Holly made sure to stay towards the back. The absolute last thing she wanted was for somebody to notice she could shapeshift. She knew it was rare and planned to keep that advantage secret for as long as possible.

When they reached the top of the stairs a severe looking woman appeared and Holly listened in.

“My name,” the severe woman told them, “is Professor McGonagall. I am the deputy headmistress here at Hogwarts and the head of Gryffindor house. There are four houses at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall continued on, not allowing for any questions to be raised, “Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. While you are here, your house will be like your family, your triumphs will earn your house points, any rule breaking will lose them. The accumulation of house points will earn your house the House Cup at the end of the school year in June.”

Professor McGonagall paused and Holly looked around at the nervous faces around her. She knew she probably should be nervous too but she wasn’t. She was here to learn magic, so long as people weren’t annoying she didn’t care where she was sorted. Plus, she already knew she could thrive living on her own. She didn’t need help from anyone here.

“Before you are sorted into your houses, I might suggest that you straighten yourselves up,” Professor McGonagall finally stated, “wait here.”

As nervous chatter broke out and two boys distracted everyone by arguing, she ducked her head and let her magic change her back to her natural appearance. A second later several ghosts appeared from the wall, further distracting anybody from noticing her.

When the door opened and Professor McGonagall led them inside it quickly became apparent just how famous she was. Even in the back of the pack the surrounding tables were already staring at her.

“It’s Holly Potter!”

“Look, there she is!”

“She’s so short!“

It was obnoxious and Holly did her best to stare straight ahead and watch as a ratty old hat sang a song. Soon students began getting called forward to be sorted.

‘So it’s a magical personality test? That’s not too bad. Wait…. If it gets in my head will it tell everyone that I ran away? That I’m a thief?’

As panic started to consume her, she heard “Holly Potter” and walked up, ignoring the whispers breaking out behind her. She sat on the stool and felt the hat placed on her head, a voice started speaking in her mind.

“Hmm, difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, a good mind, quite hardworking and cunning.”

“Thanks? Are you going to tell everyone I ran away?” Because that would be a disaster.

“Oh no, you’re doing rather well for yourself on your own. 'sides, couldn't even if I wanted too. Now... where to place you?”

“Isn’t that your job to figure out?” His whole reason for existence, even.

“HA! Yes and no. For most it’s obvious where they belong. You though, you could go into any of them. You’re more courageous and academic than most, rather cunning, and accepting of others even if you don’t realize it yet.”

“I get to choose where I go?” Didn't that defeat the Hat's entire purpose?

“Those like you do, although it’s usually only between two. What it depends on is the traits you value, not solely those you have.”

“I just want to study magic and not have people bother me.” That's it. Nothing else.

“I’m in your head you know. No matter how much you deny it to yourself I know that you want more. Slytherin would help you gain power and continue to flaunt authority. Gryffindor would fulfill your sense of adventure. Hufflepuff could provide the companionship you secretly long for.

“You’ve been in too many heads. I just want to learn magic in peace.” Honestly, the hat must be losing it. She didn’t need anyone else. Didn’t want anyone else to have to care for her.

“Very well. But do try and make a friend or two. RAVENCLAW!!”

“Damn you Mr. hat!” she thought, making the hat laugh.

Holly felt the sorting hat lift and saw the Ravenclaw table briefly look shocked before cheering erupted. As she made her way down she noticed the other tables looked... surprised? Gryffindor looked vaguely betrayed for some reason. Did they assume she’d be sorted there? Eh, so long as they didn’t bother her she didn’t care what they thought.

Sitting down at her new table, she let them congratulate her and zoned out the rest of the sorting. She startled along with the rest of the 1st years when the food suddenly appeared and quickly filled her plate. When everyone started interrogating her she did her best to brush them off. When one boy didn’t get the message she simply pulled out her potions book and ignored him.

Unfortunately, the feast was foreshadowing for the first few weeks of the year. It seemed everyone felt like they could interrogate her or wanted to be friends. Even her roommates were like that. Whenever it happened she’d ignore them and keep reading. When one boy got offended and started yelling at her she put him in a leglocker hex.

Thankfully her reputation for being aggressively antisocial spread quickly after that.

Her first couple months of classes were fascinating. She was tied at the top of her class in everything except herbology (Neville Longbottom was bizarrely good with plants) with an annoyingly talkative girl named Hermione Granger as her only academic competition.

Sadly, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was useless. Or at least pretending to be. There was something weird about him. Her scar hurt around him sometimes, so she tried to avoid him as much as possible.

To compensate Holly was self-studying and practicing spells in an empty classroom whenever possible. She needed to find a better place though after accidentally leaving a scorch mark on the wall with an overpowered incendio.

There was something weird about potions too. Snape would constantly pick on her asking advanced questions even though she always got it right. He somehow managed that while avoiding looking at her entirely.

Even though he clearly wanted to glare at her.

The result was him glaring at whoever happened to be sitting next to her that day. I’d be funny if she didn’t feel bad for whoever partnered with her that day. The few times they did make eye contact he was visibly unsettled and wouldn’t call on her for the rest of class.

As for History of Magic, Holly realized during the very first class that it was better spent self-studying. For some reason Granger looked scandalized at her for ignoring Binns but she didn’t care.

Especially not when she beat Granger on the first paper they got back.

The rest of her professors were great though. She was learning loads and consistently the first or second to succeed in the practical lessons. Professor McGonagall gave her barely perceptible smiles whenever Holly perfectly transfigured something. Professor Flitwick nearly fell over when her feather shot up and hit the ceiling.

(In the professors’ break room, they’d say: “Holly is nothing like Lily and James, but they wouldn’t need her to be.” “She’s identical to Lily but with James’ untamable curls.” “She has all her parents’ skill and power; thank Merlin she isn’t a prankster too.” “The Potter brat clearly inherited her father’s arrogance.”)

It was during the Halloween feast that Holly’s routine was disrupted. As usual, she was reading a book the table, ignoring everything else. At least, she was until everyone started screaming and firecrackers went off. She looked up in time to see Dumbledore shout “Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!” Mentally shrugging, Holly followed her house back to Ravenclaw Tower and kept reading on her bed.

It wasn’t until the next day that she heard about the troll. The halls were filled with whispers that it had badly injured Granger. Holly may have disliked the annoying girl, but she was glad Granger wasn’t dead. Plus, wanting to beat Granger motivated her to study harder.

‘Hmm, maybe Granger would try harder if I told her that? Competition is good for growth after all.’

Hermione was lying in the Hospital Wing and absolutely miserable. She had come to Hogwarts excited to learn magic and meet people who finally understood her. She had always been an outcast, even in primary school. Always too smart or too weird.

Now she was an outcast at Hogwarts too.

‘I don’t understand, why wouldn’t everyone be excited to learn magic? What am I doing wrong? How can I prove to people that I belong here?’

She was distracted from her spiraling thoughts when a fluttering paper crane landed on her lap. She picked it up, trying to figure out what charm had been used before seeing 'For Granger' written on the wing. ‘Oh, it’s a note. But who would send me one? Maybe it’s another apology from Ronald? He did nearly get me killed.’

She stared at the note in shock, trying to compose her thoughts. Holly Potter was a thorn in her side and infuriated her like no others could. Ronald Weasley was insensitive and annoying. Draco Malfoy was a spoiled bigot.

But Holly Potter was worse.

Worse because Hermione was jealous.

Holly had no friends but clearly didn’t care. Seemed to prefer it even. Nothing fazed Holly, not Professor Snape’s harassment, not Draco Malfoy, and certainly not other students. Everyone seemed in awe of Holly, even when she ignored them. Nobody told Holly off for always reading during meals. The professors liked Holly despite her antisocial behavior. Holly didn’t have buckteeth and untamable hair.

Even in academics, Hermione was losing. She’d never had her marks beaten before.

Suffice to say, Hermione was having something of an identity crisis.

Yet, Holly was the only one to send a note. Ronald Weasley had visited earlier with his Prefect brother behind him to quickly stutter out an apology but that was all. The only other person who cared was the girl that infuriated her. The rest of her time in the Hospital wing she was in turmoil before finally reaching a conclusion.

She still disliked Holly of course. But... maybe Holly wasn’t an enemy. No, if Holly saw her as competition that made Holly her rival. She'd never had a rival before but she refused to lose.

Holly was wandering the halls, glad everyone was gone on Christmas break. Her classmates had long learned that she didn’t care to know them, but they still gossiped whenever they thought she couldn’t hear. It was annoying. Now she had all the time she wanted to read and wander the castle. She’d been meaning to find a better place to practice spells after all.

It was then she came across something she’d never seen before: a small creature cleaning a suit of armor and wearing a…. pillowcase?

“Uh, hello there?”

The creature squeaked and turned around. Its huge eyes opened even wider once it looked up at her face and its eyes flicked up to her scar. “Honored to meet you Miss Potter! I is Tilly.”

“You know me?” she reflexively asked, realizing the stupidity of it a second too late.

“Of course Miss Potter! All house elves of Hogwarts know of you.”

“There are more of you? I’ve never seen any.” Tilly was rather distinctive after all.

At this Tilly seemingly preened, “Tis the mark of a good house elf to go unseen. We is being in the kitchen making food and cleaning at night.”

Holly was about to ask another question when inspiration struck. This was the perfect chance! “Tilly, do you know of any rooms in the castle that I could practice spells in?”

“The Come and Go Room would work! Wizards be calling it the Room of Requirement because it becomes whatever you need.” Incredible.

“That- that’s perfect! Can you show it to me?” If she didn't ask now there was no guarantee she'd ever see Tilly again.

Ten minutes later Holly was looking around the Room. One full wall was filled with spell books of all subjects. The other had target dummies at the end of a firing range. The last wall had a fireplace with a few comfortable looking desks and panoramic windows. It was perfect and instantly Holly’s favorite room.

“Tilly, you’re the best.” Most helpful person she'd ever met, no contest.

After several minutes of Tilly crying happy tears and promising to visit her in the kitchens, Holly started eying the bookshelves.

What later surprised Holly nearly as much as the Room of Requirement was that she got a gift for Christmas. It took her a minute to realize that it wasn’t a mistake or addressed to someone else. There was a cryptic note written in obnoxiously curly writing and an invisibility cloak.

Her father’s invisibility cloak.

Eyes burning for some reason she didn't care about at the moment, she wrapped it around herself, watching in awe as her body vanished. She fell asleep wrapped in the Cloak afterwards, hugging the tangible connection to her father closer.

Holly spent the remaining months of her 1st year using every free moment to study and practice in the Room. She worked through the 1st and 2nd year curriculum and even started learning 3rd year material. Every new spell was practiced at the range until perfected. Every interesting book from the Room was added to her personal library in her Trunk.

After a copy of Moste Potente Potions burned her hands (Madam Pomfrey looked suspicious but didn’t ask questions) she learned to detect curses and remove them first. Even with the occasional cursed book slowing her down, Holly still took several hundred books for her Trunk library.

When some of the other students started trying to figure out where she constantly disappeared, the Room got even better: it created secret entrances all over the castle. The new secret entrances at the base of Ravenclaw tower and near the kitchens were lifesaver. With hidden entrances by all her classes she could appear just in time and disappear immediately afterwards.

(Holly wouldn’t know for years but there was a betting pool over where she was disappearing to. Rumors spread and even the professors were curious. When a certain pair of twins with a secret Map were unable to find her, the infamy only grew. Dumbledore simply chuckled and declared it one of Hogwarts many mysteries but inwardly he suspected the Cloak was involved.)

When she wasn’t studying she was looking into ways to avoid the Trace. She learned it was tied to the national runestone network through her wand so it seemed obvious: she needed to learn wandless magic. All her books made it sound extremely difficult and it certainly seemed that way to Holly.

At least, until she mentioned it to Tilly. After a few months of Tilly’s lessons Holly was able to cast a few 1st year spells wandless with the incantation.

The aimed spells were harder at first. After all, a wand wasn’t just an amplifier but an aiming tool as well. How do you aim when there’s nothing to aim with?

She tried shooting spells from her palm and it worked but was inaccurate. Same thing with "flicking" spells. What she found worked (after trying to use finger guns) was that simply pointing was the best.

It was enough that Holly would feel safe on her own.

Of course, she was still researching how to remove herself from the Trace entirely. It wouldn’t be easy. It was tracked using the national runestone network and was secret for obvious reasons. She was making progress learning Ancient Runes though. It was only a matter of time until she broke it.

When exams came Holly practically waltzed through them. She had spent the last six months studying more advanced topics after all. On her way out of the exam room Granger glared at her and Holly simply smiled back. She’d noticed Granger looked more motivated since Halloween. It seemed her note had worked. Holly still managed to beat her scores of course but it made her try harder.

Holly spent the end of year feast in the kitchens with the elves.

(She never heard the announcement of Professor Quirrell’s death and wouldn’t learn of it for years. In fact, she completely forgot he existed until she saw the new Defense professor the next year.)

After boarding the train Holly read her way back to London. Watching others unload their luggage, Holly again wondered why they didn’t simply shrink their massive trunks. As the other students embraced their parents Holly walked past them without a glance.

She wasn’t jealous. Really. She didn’t need anyone looking after her.

(She ignored the tiny voice in her head saying it might be nice to be looked after.)

A few hours later, Holly was disguised and riding the channel train. She’d been in enough minds to know about the European Union’s invisible borders. For Holly it meant freedom. Several months of going anywhere, learning anything, and complete anonymity.

And if there was a pickpocketing spree wherever she went? Well, who would ever suspect the Girl-Who-Lived?

Holly drifted through France, quickly learning the language from the surrounding minds to blend in. After only a week she found the wizarding district and shopped her way through it. She found an excellent bookstore and bought far too many books on advanced topics. Unfortunately, the French clerk seemed suspicious of her 12-year-old appearance and she left quickly. She made sure to physically age herself up after that. After another week of sightseeing, Holly wandered her way into Germany to do it again.

In every country she made sure to find the magical shopping district and buy plenty of books. (It was rather convenient how Galleons were used internationally. It was the first bit of logic she’d seen among wizards.) Holly wandered eastward, changing her appearance often on her meandering path through Europe. First she went north, wandering through the Nordic countries. From there she started moving south through Eastern Europe until she was on a Greek beach looking out at the Mediterranean. Several weeks and (making sure to keep her distance from ongoing civil war in the Balkans) a few wizarding districts later, Holly passed into Italy.

If a small fortune seemingly disappeared from a mafia safehouse while she visited? Well, nobody knew about that except herself and the Italian branch of Gringotts.

In a back office of the Italian Gringotts branch she dumped out the massive pile of bills onto their desk. In response to goblins’ stare she grinned widely, “It’s crazy to me what thieves leave laying around. They don’t seem to understand that money belongs in a bank.”

The goblin glanced down before a matching smile slowly spread across his face. “All too right, Miss Potter-Black. How can Gringotts help you today?”

Holly walked out soon after with her money deposited, Gringotts implicit blessing to bring twice stolen money to them, and once again quite pleased with Gringotts customer service.

Holly wandered her way back towards Britain, making a detour through Spain and Portugal to shop along the way. Two days before the term started Holly passed back into Britain.

Naturally, the first place she went to was Diagon alley for some last-minute shopping.

She took one look at the booklist and scoffed. Seemed like another year with a useless Defense professor. Skipping the required Defense books entirely, Holly instead bought several advanced books on curses and their counters, along with another on dueling.

After buying a few new sets of robes she left the Alley, ready for her 2nd year.

Chapter 3: Year Two

Chapter Text

Once again Holly was back on the Hogwarts Express, reading her way there. A few 1st years in her compartment tried to talk to her but stopped after she blocked them out. Good thing they didn’t seem to figure out her identity.

She rode the carriages (that were pulled by impressively ominous looking winged, skeletal horses for some reason?) to the castle and, to the surprise of nobody, read her way through the announcements and feast. Holly walked out with everyone else and fell back into her old routines.

Sadly, most of the new 1st years hadn’t gotten the message beforehand that Holly was famously antisocial. It took the 1st years a few weeks of being ignored for most of them to leave her alone. When one particularly annoying boy with a camera kept following her, he was quickly put in a full-body-bind. After a few times he finally backed off, much to Hollys’ relief.

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was, as she’d previously assumed, completely useless. Worse than useless even.

There was really only one good thing about him.

Watching Lockhart fumble his lesson with the pixies was hilarious. Watching Granger trying to defend him afterwards was even better. Lockhart being useless didn’t matter to Holly, it was beneficial even. After all, she knew the entire 2nd and some of the 3rd year Defense curriculum already, along with a few more useful advanced spells. The fact his assignments were a joke gave her more time to self-study.

What was annoying about Lockhart was him constantly picking on her. He constantly tried to have her play along while reenacting scenes from his book. The first time she refused he seemed furious for a split second before brushing it off to save face. Thankfully he left her alone after several blunt refusals.

It unnerved her though and she tried her best to avoid him whenever possible.

In potions Snape still randomly asked her advanced questions. It seemed that now he was transitioning to asking her 3rd and 4th year material. Grateful for her summer reading, Holly kept up. She hadn’t gotten an answer wrong yet and she wasn’t planning to. They were at something of a stalemate and Holly was not going to be the one to break first.

She did stumble in on bullying in the Ravenclaw dorms one time. Only once because Holly had them all in a bodybind before they noticed her. Before the would-be bullies hit the ground, she’d already turned to walk away without a glance back.

(For Holly it was hardly worth mentioning. For Luna Lovegood, Holly was like a merciful mother dragon swooping in to save her. She knew she’d talk to Holly in time. But not now. Holly had too many wackspirts in her ears to hear anyone right now.

But one day though, Holly would be able to hear and Luna would be there.)

---

The first month and a half passed in a blur of study and spell practice, only interrupted by classes, visiting the elves, and meals. It was all pleasantly routine. Dodging the stalkers trying to find where she disappeared to was normal at this point. She answered questions in class, got perfect scores, and enjoyed Granger’s scowls whenever Holly beat her at anything.

There was something unusual though.

A tiny feeling of something wrong.

It was subtle enough that Holly couldn’t tell when it started. She first noticed it walking into the Hall for lunch one day: a faint unsettling feeling, like being watched. As the weeks went on the feeling grew. The hairs on her arms would stand up and her stomach flopped.

Now she’d randomly be walking into the Great Hall or to class and her stomach would roll after feeling the vile presence passing.

A week before Halloween she started trying to track it down. Whatever it was was unnatural and vile. It had to be destroyed. Her mind wandered as she stalked the halls trying to chase the feeling. Was it somebody’s mind? Was it an artifact? Maybe a Dark creature? It certainly didn’t belong in Hogwarts. This was more important than studying for now.

She stalked the halls day and night chasing the foul presence but was struggling to pinpoint it. She lost hours of sleep every night but hardly noticed, she had greater things to worry about.

She knew the house elves could help but she decided against involving them. It’d feel like she was taking advantage. This could be dangerous, she refused to let them get hurt by taking the easy way out. They’d risk their lives in over eagerness to help. That would be unacceptable.

For some reason nobody else seemed to notice it. Was it because she could read minds? Or maybe because she’d felt cursed objects before? But why couldn’t the professors notice it? Was she going crazy?
Whatever the cause was, Holly had a bad feeling about it.

It was on Halloween that Holly heard a strange voice and her gut feeling confirmed.

The second Holly saw it she knew, just knew, that whatever she’d been chasing was responsible. It had petrified a cat and wrote that message. But what could possibly do that?

When Granger interrogated Binns in class later about the Chamber of Secrets Holly was grateful.

So, Salazar Slytherin apparently left behind a monster for his heir to kill off the “unworthy” students. But who was the heir? Voldemort himself claimed to be but he was dead, allegedly because of her. The only confirmed descendants of Slytherin, the Gaunt family, were also dead. Could it be an imposter?

She redoubled her efforts in tracking the foul presence. If the beast was being controlled by the Heir then the presence must be them. Who else could possibly have such a foul presence? Every free minute was spent either researching magical creatures or roaming the halls under her cloak.

If her grades slipped or Granger learned a spell first in class she hardly noticed.

That wasn’t her priority now.

---

A couple weeks of constant searching later and Holly had her suspect. She’d walked past a redhead 1st year walking alone and nearly threw up at the feeling of wrongness. She invisibly stalked the girl afterwards, observing her behavior.

It was strange- the girl, a Weasley apparently, looked rather sick. Her eyes had dark bags, she hardly ate, and was overly twitchy. She was isolating herself. Did she have a guilty conscience? Holly’s stolen experience recognized the signs of blackmail or some other form of coercion.

Her suspicions were supported when Holly realized the vile feeling wasn’t coming from the girl. It was certainly surrounding her, but she wasn’t the source. The source was something else. Something she carried around, slowly infecting her. Even if she was being blackmailed, Holly still needed to confront her.

After a week of stalking Holly was ready to make her move. As the Weasley girl walked down a deserted 2nd floor corridor after curfew Holly struck from behind. Her silencio hit but the Weasley girl dodged her stunner and turned around. Her eyes were red, face twisted in anger as she started flinging spells far faster than any 1st year was capable.

‘Possession, why didn’t I consider possession? Stupid, stupid, stupid!’

All Holly could do was dodge the incoming spellfire. Her opponent didn’t even bother to undo the silence. Hadn’t needed to dodge or shield a single spell. Didn’t need to since Holly couldn’t stop moving to fire back.

Every instinct and stolen bit of fighting experience told her she was outmatched. Hopelessly and completely outmatched. It hadn’t even been ten seconds and she wouldn’t last another five.

As Holly barely ducked a bright green spell, she knew she only had one chance.

If she failed she was dead.

She dodged another nasty looking spell and conjured a wall of thick fog, blocking sight completely. It’d only take a second to dispel and she desperately hoped that was enough. She extended her mind to the vile presence and attacked.

It had solid mental walls, far above anything she’d encountered before. But her life was on the line. In a battle of willpower Holly Potter lost to nobody. It was caught off guard, its shock palpable through its defenses. She took advantage, desperately battering its mental walls, refusing to submit and die. She’d taught herself mind reading. She wasn’t about to lose to a random evil artifact. She pounded and scratched and screamed at its mental walls until finally, finally a fissure formed, and she broke through.

Holly entered its mind and was horrified at what she found.

It was alive. A fragment of a soul with its own will and memories. A piece of Voldemort, of Tom Riddle. With every memory she stole she learned something new. Useful or horrific and sometimes both. Her stomach was twisting, threatening to come back up but she couldn’t let it. It disgusted her but she needed these memories.

It was the only way she’d ever beat him.

After a moment that felt like both instant and an eternity, Holly finally finished stealing the memories of Tom’s Diary horcrux. She stood up on unsteady legs and stumbled forward. Her head was pounding, suddenly filled with 16 years’ worth of foreign memories. She wanted to sleep. She needed to sleep. But she couldn’t, she knew what she had to do first.

(Holly couldn’t stop to think about how close she’d come to dying. How that was a Killing Curse that she barely ducked. How it was pure luck she wasn’t dead. How her attack only worked because Diary Tom was still weakened and caught by surprise. How exhausted and sore her body felt. How her stomach felt mutinous at everything she learned.

If she stopped to think her body would give out and that was unacceptable. Not when there was more to do.)

She banished the fog and made her way forward. The Weasley girl was unconscious but stirring slightly. A quick stunner stopped that. It’d be far too difficult to explain, especially with the migraines they both had. She crouched down and searched through her pockets, pulling out Tom’s Diary.

Holly stood back up, leaning on the wall to keep her balance. “Tilly?” The elf appeared instantly, her eyes widening at the scene. “She was possessed but is free now. Can you put her into her bed?”

The two of them disappeared, Tilly reappearing a moment later looking concerned. “Can Tilly be helping with anything else Miss Potter?”

Holly glanced down the damaged hallway. It was covered in scorch marks and bits of rumble. Several torches had been blasted off the wall and a suit of armor was laying in pieces.

“Can you get me a rooster somehow? Then maybe clean up the hallway? It’s a complete mess.”

Till nodded and disappeared again. Holly wobbled over to her Cloak, inspecting it for damage and pleasantly surprised when she found none. She stuffed it back into her pocket, struggling to stand up again.

Tilly reappeared then, pushing a disgruntled rooster into her arms. “Thanks Tilly, you’re amazing.” The elf tearfully hugged her, snot getting onto her robes. After promising to visit the kitchens Tilly popped away.

Holly silenced the angry bird and stumbled her way to the 2nd floor bathroom under the Cloak, leaning on the wall the whole way. She wanted to stop and throw up in a stall, but she couldn’t. She had another purpose here. She looked at the sinks and hissed it open. One disgusting slide ride later she landed in a pile of bones.

“Now this is some cliché sh*t. Honestly. I bet even you agree, rooster.” She lifted the silenced rooster to her face. It tried to caw but no noise came out, then somehow glared at her. “Glad to hear it buddy. Now remember, if you don’t caw we’re both dead. Good? Good.”

She stumbled over the bones, nearly dropping the angry rooster and falling several times. She opened the door to the main chamber and scoffed, “What kinda person makes a massive sculpture of their own face? f*cking wizards, that’s who.” She surveyed the room trying to figure where best to go.

If she nearly fell asleep standing up that was nobody’s business but hers.

...And maybe the roosters.

She walked closer to the giant sculpture before stopping a vaguely safe distance away. She closed her eyes and hid the angry rooster behind her back. ‘There’s no way I’m using that pretentious password Tom used.’

$Oi, basilisk! Come on out!$

Shockingly, it worked. She heard the statute's mouth grind open and scales moving over the stone floor.

$Who dares to address the noble Salazar-$

The basilisks’ words were cut off when Holly pulled out the rooster and jabbed it with her wand to undo the silence. Naturally, it immediately cawed in anger and pecked her hand.

The pain from her hand was drowned out by the basilisk screaming its’ death throes. The stone floor shook and Holly dropped the rooster to cover her ears trying to block out the noise. It screamed and flailed around in a moment that seemed far longer. Finally, there was one last tremor before the Chamber went silent. Holly waited a second and opened her eyes.

In front of her was the massive coiled form of the now dead basilisk. Each scale was dark green and the size of her hand. Its eyes were foggy and lay with its mouth open. Dozens of fangs the size of her forearm were visible in a mouth larger than her.

“Ok, just destroy the horcrux and go. Don’t trip and impale yourself. You got this.” She slowly walked up to its mouth, adrenaline temporarily pushing back her exhaustion.

She slammed the Diary down on a fang, watching as ink suddenly flooded out. When the ink finally stopped, she pulled it off the fang and made her way to the entrance. She glanced back at the corpse.

“Hmm, probably should sell that to the goblins. Bet I could get some badass armor out of it too.”

Back at the entrance slide she glared at the now usable stairs and spent the entire climb up cursing Slytherin. She walked out of the bathroom and, on a whim, spelled a message onto the wall across from the first.

“There, that sounds suitably ominous but still informative. But where’d the rooster go?” She looked around for a second before shrugging.

Her last fully conscious action was dropping the Diary under her message. After that it got fuzzy, but she was vaguely aware of stumbling back to Ravenclaw tower. It was a miracle she didn’t encounter any patrols.

Holly was too tired to realize the Cloak wasn’t on but still in her pocket.

She collapsed face first onto her bed, somehow managing to close the drapes as she fell. Exhausted from her fight, she fell asleep immediately.

Chapter 4: Year Two (II)

Chapter Text

To say Albus Dumbledore wasn’t expecting to be woken up hearing that the Chamber of Secrets threat was solved was an understatement. And yet, somehow, it seemingly was.

He looked at the helpful but ominous note on the wall then the ruined diary in his hand. Tom Riddle’s diary and, unless he was much mistaken, a destroyed horcrux. It was proof of his long-suspected horcrux theory.

The Diary was clearly the cause of the Chamber being opened once more, making it the “heir”. With it destroyed, Albus supposed that did make the heir “handled”. The fact it was a destroyed horcrux confirmed there was a basilisk present. The only unconfirmed portion was the basilisk being dead. He had found an irritable rooster nearby which certainly suggested it true but there was no hard proof.

It begged the question: who found the Chamber and killed the beast? Certainly, it was not a professor, no matter what Gilderoy may say. That meant a student was responsible. But who was capable of such a feat? They would certainly need to be a parselmouth.

Perhaps it was unsurprising then that they stayed hidden rather than revealing such an ability. The only student he suspected of being one was Holly Potter and she seemed much too studious to do such a thing. She was, however, quite an enigma with her self-imposed social isolation and frequent disappearances. Perhaps he should finally meet the girl soon.

After asking, Severus informed him his Dark Mark was still present, proof Tom still lived. It was horrifying but proved that Tom had made multiple horcruxes. It also supported the unfortunate likelihood that Holly Potter herself was an unwitting horcrux. Lily’s protection would keep it suppressed and, while he was researching for a solution, it was an unfortunate reality that she was tied to Tom’s life. Still, he would keep looking for a cure.

Holly woke up hours later than usual to her aching body, still in her tattered robes, and thoroughly questioning her life choices. She hadn’t known it was possible to be so sore that even breathing hurt but apparently it was.

‘Did I seriously duel a horcrux and kill a basilisk while delirious? If the Sorting Hat ever finds out it’ll sort me again into Gryffindor for sure.’

Holly sat up with a groan and vanished her ruined robes. Her body was littered with dark bruises and her palms scraped. Somehow she had no broken bones or any serious injuries. The only visible blood was from the rooster peck. That hardly counted. Considering what she’d done, it was a shockingly good outcome.

Too bad that didn’t make her body hurt any less.

She ducked her head out to ensure her roommates were gone and stumbled off the bed. After a few quick spells to remove the grime, she achingly pulled her robes on. She slowly made her way to the Great Hall for a quick breakfast, ignoring the frantic conversations. She needed to plan but was in too much pain to focus. That made things simple.

First things first, she needed some bruise cream and pain relief potion. Any more plotting would come after that.

Holly made her way through the day’s classes with the minimum effort to keep up appearances and retreated into the Room of Requirement afterwards. After brewing and drinking a pain potion she bottled the leftover before applying Room provided bruise cream. With that done she sighed in relief and laid down on an extra comfy couch.

Then came the more complicated task: going over what she learned from Tom’s horcrux.

Tom Riddle, aka Voldemort or Diary Tom, was only 16 at the time but his mind was already packed with knowledge, vile goals, and an impressive number of mental issues. They said, “know you enemy” and well, Holly knew everything about Tom. His thought patterns, dueling habits, magical knowledge, fears, everything.

His knowledge of spells and magical theory was invaluable to her. She’d need to practice it herself still of course, but it’d save countless hours. Equally invaluable was his skill with wandless magic. His dueling skills were formidable and she could incorporate them into her own with practice. She knew the moves, but muscle memory couldn’t be stolen sadly. Finally, she’d stolen his knowledge of mind reading and mental defense. That was a high priority to learn. By incorporating it with own she’d become a far better mind reader than before. His Occlumency would be vital to learn for protecting her secrets.

Also invaluable was the intelligence gathered. She knew of his crippling fear of death. How he planned to make six horcruxes for a seven-part soul. She knew his pride wanted Hogwarts Founders’ artifacts as his horcruxes. That he believed he alone understood the Room of Requirement and likely hid one inside the Room later. That he planned to use places of personal significance, such as the Seaside Cave and Hogwarts, to hide his horcruxes. That he’d found his muggle relatives in Little Hangleton and was planning to murder them during the upcoming summer.

Of course, it’d take time to sift through the plundered memories in depth. Time to truly understand the magical theory for herself instead of relying on Tom’s understanding. Months of practice to make the skills truly her own. She may have stolen Tom’s knowledge of spells, but she hadn’t physically cast most of them herself. She didn’t know how it felt with own magic.

Holly looked to the targets to try a spell she only knew from Tom’s memories: the Blasting Curse. She took aim at a reinforced target. “Confringo!” The spell hit the target slightly off center with a blast, throwing dust into the air. When the dust settled there was a crater of stone missing.

“Pretty sure that was weaker than Tom’s but not a bad starting point. Now what about nonverbal casting?”

She took aim at the crater and tried to cast a silent incendio. Tried and failed. She thought for a moment of how Tom simply intended a spell to fire. How it felt for him. Her second attempt worked but was weaker than normal. A few more times and it matched her usual power.

That wasn’t too bad. Now she just had to do that with every spell she’d learned herself and stolen from Tom. It was amazing. She was speed learning years’ worth of material. Granger would never beat her now. The look on her face with Holly beat her next class, casting silently, would be priceless.

Only, a thought occurred to her. ‘I can’t publicly have my skills skyrocket like that. It’d be too suspicious.’

She was only a 2nd year. Granted she was far ahead of everyone except Granger, but still a 2nd year. Tom was the same way and his Diary’s self was 4 years older than her. If she randomly started demonstrating skill greater than many 7th years her professors and Dumbledore would obviously notice.

If Dumbledore got suspicious… Tom had experienced that. He’d been watched constantly from the moment he arrived at Hogwarts. Granted it was because Tom was blatantly a sad*stic sociopathic when he met Dumbledore, but still. He’d stalk her for the rest of her time at school. Question her about where she disappeared to. If he found out she’d run away from home it’d be a nightmare.

That had to be avoided at all costs.

The other thing that needed her attention was the basilisk corpse. With them being so rare every scale and fang would be worth tens of galleons. The intact corpse of an ancient basilisk was practically invaluable. Obviously, she’d be selling it to Gringotts. The difficult part would be haggling over the price. She’d need to keep some fangs and a portion of skin for armor too. Maybe some venom too.

They’d be needed for fighting Tom.

Good thing goblins were so helpful.

Speaking of goblins being helpful…. could they help with the horcruxes? They were master craftsman and cursebreakers. Maybe they could remove the soul piece without destroying the object? She’d rather not destroy the Founder’s artifacts after all. It was worth asking about at least.

Even if they couldn’t, they could help with retrieving the Horcruxes from whatever defenses Tom left guarding them. They’d help for the right price.

‘Probably best to ask about that in person this summer though.’ Maybe it was her stolen paranoia, but Holly seriously doubted the school owls weren’t monitored somehow. There were probably keyword alerts or something similar. Writing about horcruxes would undoubtedly set any possible alerts off. Writing about the basilisk should be safe though. Hopefully.

Holly settled into a suddenly materialized writing desk to start writing her letter to Gronuk. ‘Dear Gronuk, would Gringotts be interested in buying a fresh ancient basilisk corpse? It is fully intact and…’

Holly settled into her new routine over the following weeks. She still spent her free time in the Room of course but gone were the books and comfy couches. Now it was a target range, used for practicing Tom’s advanced spells and nonverbal casting. It was slow going but she was making progress. She guessed she’d be done by the end of the year.

Every night before bed Holly spent an hour meditating and working on her Occlumency. She knew the theory and how Tom’s occlumency shields were designed but still struggled. She wasn’t going to simply copy him. Tom’s were a simple wall but she wanted something more effective, something dynamic. She knew from experience they were quite breakable after all.

Regardless, she needed to catalog all her memories first, both those originally hers and the stolen ones. Once that was done she could start building a mindscape to defend them.

She was grateful for being able to magically shut away some of Tom’s memories. She did not want to keep all of them.

Wandless magic practice was going far faster, with Holly able to cast some 2nd year spells and various more advanced ones. Accio was the first advanced one she learned. She was practical like that.

What truly excited her was wandless and nonverbal casting. The first time she managed a lumos she stared at the ball of light in her hand, a grin across her face. Now she could cast a few 1st year spells, along with a few useful more advanced ones like illusions and Notice-Me-Nots. That would make her summer interesting.

Her new routine also included haggling with Gronuk over the basilisk corpse. He was shrewd and trying to get every galleon possible. Their letters were cutting, filled with debate over current market values. (And figuring those values in the first place was a pain. Who knew it was so hard to find the black market value of potion ingredients? Holly now, that’s who.) Gronuk was arguing her sale would flood the market and drop the price. She countered by arguing that obviously Gringotts would control for that by limiting sales and fixing the price. The longer it took the more she reminded him how rats had likely already gotten into the corpse.

After several weeks they agreed on a ludicrously high number of galleons, along with the specified fangs, venom vials, and section of skin for herself.

Holly watched as the Gringotts retrieval team arrived at the castle and argued with the headmaster at the gate. She had no idea how they got into the Chamber itself, but she trusted their capabilities. Two days later Gronuk informed her the payment was in her personal vault and thanked her for her business. She smiled and stuffed the letter into a pocket, oblivious the nearby students’ stares at Holly’s victorious grin.

When Holly heard of a dueling club she scoffed. It would be useless for her to go unless she dueled an upper year. But that would reveal her skills and couldn’t be allowed to happen. She skipped it, instead practicing in the Room of Requirement.

The Room created something new: beanbags launchers fired at her from multiple angles, forcing her to dodge, all while trying to hit a target. For fun Holly increased the beanbags speed and made the targets move. It was good fun even if she was always heavily bruised afterwards. With Voldemort back though she needed the practice and pushed herself further.

She celebrated Christmas in the kitchens with Tilly and the other elves. She’d snuck a small tree in earlier and decorated it with them. Her gifts of assorted cookbooks were met with happy tears and dozens of boney hugs. They only let her go after her pockets were filled with sweets and offered their help however possible.

Eating with the elves, her fairy lights floating overhead, Holly was oblivious to the outside world. For several hours they drank butterbeer and made merry. Holly never noticed a certain set of twins staring at her before they shrugged and got back to stealing food. In the morning Holly woke up on a house elf sized couch, surrounded by dozens of hungover elves.

If breakfast happened to be later that morning nobody complained.

The rest of her 2nd year was spent practicing. Whenever she wasn’t in classes, doing now easy assignments, or eating, she was in the Room of Requirement. Most days were spent at the target range practicing nonverbal spells and improving her aim. When Tilly visited she practiced wandless magic. Her wandless capabilities slowly improved to include some 3rd year spells and most 1st year spells nonverbally.

She had a fun idea she was working towards with it: if she could silently cast a Bludgeoning hex from her fist as she landed a punch her target would go flying back. It was stupid and probably pointless.

Still a fun goal to work towards though.

And if she daydreamed about using it on a Wizard Nazi like Adult Tom and feeling like Captain America? Well, nobody would ever know about that but her.

The only problem was trying to hide her rapidly improving skills. She had long surpassed Granger in the ranking but started needing to intentionally slow down. Her acting skills were being put to test as Granger glared at her every class, no doubt trying to learn how Holly was winning. Classes were entirely review for her now. While useful, it was difficult hiding her boredom. At least her assignments were easy enough to finish quickly.

Snape may have suspected something because his random questions were now on 4th and 5th year material. Even Granger couldn’t answer them. With every class he slowly got more and more advanced. By the end of the year he’d probably reach 6th year material. Obviously he was trying to humiliate her. Holly may have had Tom’s knowledge, but she was feeling the pressure. She was not going to let Snape win.

When Snape started assigning her to work alone she didn’t complain. That would be admitting she couldn’t do it. So she worked alone and would brew the best damn potions in the class. She knew she should’ve hidden her competency, but she refused to back down from Snape.

Holly did notice something weird while reviewing parseltongue. It was the last stolen skill she practiced, the lowest priority to learn. It was only useful for visiting the Chamber after all. She was practicing and noticed the words were coming naturally, not from Tom’s memories. It didn’t feel like any of the other languages she’d learned from skimming.

Looking back on that night… she opened the Chamber without a thought. Maybe it had something to do with parseltongue being a magical language? Or maybe she’d already known it? Either way, it didn’t seem particularly important to her.

There were several spells of Tom’s she didn’t practice. Not practicing fiendfyre was common sense, at least for now. She knew she’d need to learn it later, but it could wait. The Cruciatus was another. It was evil and there wasn’t a non-sad*stic use for it. Why torture someone when veritaserum exists? Other curses she skipped for the same reason. Honestly, whoever created generational blood curses was wasting their time and plain evil.

She had considered practicing the Killing Curse but didn’t. Strictly speaking, she was practical enough to see the use for it in a serious fight. But the description of the required mindset of malice and hate was unsettling. She had intimate knowledge of horcrux creation now after all. The last thing she wanted to do was split her soul. She could avoid that by using it in self-defense but for some reason wizarding law didn’t make an exception for that. Maybe once Adult Tom returned she’d revisit the topic. For now she didn’t need to know it.

Similar thoughts applied to the Imperious as well. Wanting to dominate the will of others didn’t come naturally to her, she wasn’t The One Ring. It’d be exceptionally useful in wartime but it wasn’t needed now. She’d learn it later when needed.

Finals practically were a joke for Holly. She could’ve done the practical portions entirely with nonverbal casting. The hardest part was hiding her skill. Her Girding Potion was textbook perfect (she couldn’t bring herself to sabotage it, that’d mean Snape won). In Charms her pineapple waltzed but tripped after several minutes. Her Transfigured pincushion was perfect but the embroidered H.L.P. had uneven stitches. In Herbology her fluxweed was repotted perfectly but she accidently cut herself on it.

The written portion was even easier. Thankfully she didn’t have to hide her knowledge as much on them. She was a known bookworm after all. She checked her answers before turning it in and walking out far earlier than anyone else. Same as last year, Granger glared at her. Only now she seemed… resigned? Envious? Disappointed maybe? Hopefully she hadn’t given up. Holly quite enjoyed their petty rivalry. Maybe she could send another note? Something to consider for the next year.

Holly was distracted enough that she didn’t notice anything until a hand suddenly clamped onto her shoulder from behind. She turned her head enough to see Lockhart wearing an entirely fake smile, his eyes filled with poorly disguised contempt. Just as Holly was about to curse him into oblivion, she felt a wand tip jab into her back. She froze up, wondering ‘what the f*ck is going on?’

“Holly, Holly, Holly. You’re an elusive girl, you know that? Adds to your infamy. How about we have a chat, one celebrity to another?” He reached into her pocket from behind, taking her wand from her. With a slight jab of his wand he ushered her down the empty hall towards an unused classroom.

She’d learned her lesson about underestimating people from her duel with Diary Tom. Lockhart may be a fool but he had the advantage and looked deranged. Her mind was racing, considering her options.

With his wand at her back and disarmed she was limited. Attacking his mind was too risky. Same with physically attacking or calling Tilly. A nonverbal wandless body bind could work but it’d be tough with him still behind her. Maybe she could distract him or get someone’s attention? But there were no witnesses. With her reputation she could be missing at least a day before anyone noticed.

With no other options available, she went along with it.

She was led into a classroom and sat in a chair. Lockhart circled around to her front, wand still pointed at her. “You know you’re the main reason I took this job? The book sales and influence were factors of course. But pulling Holly Potter under my wing would skyrocket my fame. It was brilliant!”

He paused, fixing her with a furious glare. “Only you ignore your fame and wealth. Ignore your fans. Ignore me. And they still worship you!! You’re more famous than I’ll ever be yet you reject it! It’s maddening!”

“You know how hard I worked to be this famous? How hard it was to track down the people who actually did the things in my books and modify their memories? Months of effort!”

“And the bloody Chamber of Secrets! A basilisk killed right under my nose! It would’ve been my masterpiece! Only, nobody came forward and I couldn’t take credit. This year has been a waste and it's ALL. YOUR. FAULT!” By the end of his rant, he was red faced, his shaking wand still pointed at her.

This was bad. This was very bad. She needed a distraction and needed it now.

An idea popped into her head. A stupid, risky idea. If it didn’t work, well, who knew what he was capable of.

So Holly spoke up. One simple sentence designed to piss him off even more.

It was even true.

“It was me who killed the basilisk.”

His expression shifted from anger to shock, wand twitching downwards, before slowly twisting into senseless fury.

But for an instant he was caught off guard. In that instant Holly struck.

She lashed out, sending him the mental equivalent of a kick to the head and a nonverbal wandless body bind at him. It struck, freezing his furious expression in place as he fell over in front of her.

Holly reached down to his prone form and pulled out her wand, taking his coin purse too. She stood back up, smirking as she looked into his eyes.

“The funny part is that it’s true. Now, I believe you said something about memory charms? I’ll be taking that, thank you very much.”

With a flick of her wand she stunned him and dove into his mind. She stole his knowledge of memory charms, the names of everyone he stole credit from, and his memories of their encounter. Feeling vindictive after seeing his schemes firsthand, she spelled FRAUD across his forehead and stole his watch before leaving.

Holly was tempted to scramble his mind completely. Seriously considered it even. But she knew how he valued his fame and reputation. Exposing him as a fraud and letting him rot in Azkaban suited him better.

On that note, she had some anonymous letters to write.

A few days later on the last day of the term Holly spotted the papers headline and grinned.

Nobody had seen Lockhart after their confrontation. People were quick to attribute it to the supposed curse on the Defense position. Maybe he couldn’t remove her spell and ran to hide his face. Or maybe he noticed the suspicious gaps in his memory. Didn’t matter either way to Holly.

She had no doubt he’d be found and jailed soon.

Holly read the whole train ride back. Halfway through the ride back she’d looked up to see Granger sitting across from her, buried in a book of her own. Holly mentally shrugged and got back into her book. She had hundreds of books from the Room of Requirement to get through. Absorbing Tom’s skills had distracted her from the massive backlog.

When they got to the station Holly hopped off out and started her walk out. She saw Granger running into her parents’ arms and getting wrapped in a hug. Pushing down her feelings, Holly snapped her eyes away and rushed to the exit.

She wasn’t jealous. She wasn’t. She was independent and didn't need anybody else.

(Maybe one year she’d believe it.)

Chapter 5: Summer 1993

Chapter Text

Holly walked into Gronuk’s office feeling nervous. She trusted the goblins’ expertise and discretion of course, but horcruxes were nasty business. Diary Tom’s memories and the one book she had on the subject said there were only two ways to destroy them. If the goblins couldn’t help she could always use a basilisk fang but she’d rather not need to destroy the artifacts.

“Welcome back to Gringotts Miss Potter-Black, how can we help?”

“I was wondering if Gringotts would be able to help with something rather difficult.” She reached into her magically expanded bag and pulled out a wooden box. Gronuk was visibly shocked at the Diadem of Ravenclaw, shifting to disgust upon sensing its foul aura.

She’d retrieved it at the end of the term, not wanting to get possessed, and replaced it with a fake. She was sure to also damage the vanishing cabinet Tom knew of beyond repair.

f*cking Wizards unknowingly having a massive security hole.

She’d tried delving into the Diadem horcrux’s mind as well. It was repulsive but necessary to check. Since it was made after the Diary, there’d be more knowledge and vital intel. Unfortunately (or fortunately for her stomach) she couldn’t. The horcrux was too dormant, it hadn’t gained strength by possessing someone. There wasn’t an active mind within to read and was inaccessible.

“It’s been turned into a horcrux by Voldemort. I’m wondering if Gringotts could destroy the soul fragment without destroying the Diadem.”

Gronuk looked at her briefly before focusing on the Diadem. “Such a thing is possible but difficult. The fragment would need to be transferred to another object then destroyed. We can do it. For a fee of course.”

“That would be excellent, thank you Gronuk.” Holly was ecstatic. How could she not be? She was a Ravenclaw and saved the famous Diadem. As pointless as she believed house pride and rivalries to be, the Founders were still brilliant witches and wizards. Completely mad in Slytherin’s case, but still brilliant.

Unfortunately, the next topic quickly brought her mood back down.

“However, I believe there to be more, also using famous artifacts. I have a list of potential artifacts and hiding spots. I would like to commission a team of Cursebreakers to search the provided locations.”

Gronuk, the consummate professional he was, simply asked for the list.

There was a risk to doing this of course: if Adult Tom ever returned and checked his hiding spots it’d be disastrous. But that was unlikely. Holly knew from his diary horcrux Tom believed himself exceptional in all things. He’d believe it impossible to learn of them, much less find them. Pretty stupid considering he wanted to hide them in places of personal importance, but hey, it made her job easier.

Holly double-checked her list before handing it over.

Locations:
-Gaunt Shack, Little Hangleton
-Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton
-Seaside Cave, South End
-Vaults of Inner Circle Death Eaters, Gringotts

Likely Artifacts:
-Locket of Salazar Slytherin
-Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup
-Sword of Godric Gryffindor

Gronuk scanned the list for a moment. “There is a slight problem with one of your specified locations: it is against Gringotts policy to search through or destroy items from our customers’ vaults.”

Before Holly could interrupt, he grinned widely, looking devious.

“However, it is also against Gringotts policy to store a horcrux in them. Your commissioned search will be done.”

Holly walked out of Gringotts later in disguise, with the purified Diadem in her trunk. The horcrux purifications and search she’d commissioned would cost her tens of thousands of galleons, but it was entirely worth it. Adult Tom was a monster that couldn’t be allowed to live.

Besides, she had literal piles of gold to spend. Between her updated investments and the basilisk sale her accounts had done shockingly well in the last two years. It’d be less than a year before her investments made that loss back.

Holly had considered wandering the continent like last year but decided against it. She needed to stay close to Gringotts for updates on the horcrux search. Besides, she had too many books she needed to read. She couldn’t go anywhere beyond Europe without an ID and passport anyways.

Although… maybe the goblins could make fake IDs for her? That was certainly possible. Shapeshifting would make it easy. She filled the idea away for next summer.

Holly hid her trunk under a bridge with a strong Notice-Me-Not and settled into her summer routine soon after.

Much like before Hogwarts, she spent her days reading in public places, passively skimming the minds of muggles passing by. Once a week she visited Knockturn Alley and the bookstores there. They had far more rare and interesting books than in Diagon. Plus, the shopkeepers didn’t question her purchases either. During the evening she practiced wandless magic in her trunk apartment.

Obviously she tried using the Diadem one day. It was a legendary artifact, how could she not?

Putting it on was overwhelming. Her mind raced too fast and her senses were overwhelmed. The first time she tried she’d fallen over. After a few more attempts (while sitting down) she’d written it off as being almost unusable for her.

“Almost unusable" because she’d found the increased brainpower helped her with occlumency.

Every night Holly still worked on her occlumency. Sorting her memories took far longer than the books mentioned, even with the Diadem, but that was expected. She’d stolen several decades worth after all.

She finally decided on how to design her defenses too: a fake façade layer first of what people expected with a hidden mindscape beneath to hide secrets and stolen memories. If she did it right it’d appear as if she didn’t know occlumency at all. Exactly how she wanted it. She could use the façade to appear unskilled and mislead someone.

As for her mindscape design… she had an idea but it was rather ambitious. Extremely ambitious, even with the Diadem to help.

It came to her one day while thinking about the Room: why not have her mindscape be ever-changing like the Room? Obviously, she’d need security and to make it searchable for only herself, but she liked the idea. If she did it right her mindscape would be nearly impossible to navigate and have endless hiding places. It’d take far longer than the summer to make properly, but her defenses should be good enough by the time she went back to school.

For as great as her summer was going there was still a glaring downside: she couldn’t use her wand. Thankfully that changed a couple weeks into her summer. After reading dozens of books on ancient runes Holly finally figured it out.

She knew how to break the Trace.

It needed to be done on a ley line but that was easy. There was one running right under Diagon Alley after all. She carved the runes into wood blocks, trying to stop her fingers from trembling in anticipation.

That night she went to Diagon Alley under the Cloak. Holly found the rune anchorstone in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron, a clear marker of the ley line underneath. She set up her rune blocks in a circle next to it. Inspecting her work for a second, she nodded to herself before stepping in.

Standing in the small circle, she waved a hand and the runes began glowing. “Tractiare. Tractiare. Tractiare. ” There was a cracking noise and an odd feeling. It had worked!

She took out her wand and vanished the spent rune blocks. After a few minutes of standing around, no owls had appeared and she made her way back to her trunk apartment.

Being freed from the Trace left Holly feeling freer than ever before. Mostly because she was.

She despised the Trace. It only really applied to muggleborns and some half-bloods. What was the point? The official justification was to protect the Statue of Secrecy of course. But was it really? In reality it contributed to disparity between purebloods and those of “lesser” status. She was glad to be freed from it.

With the Trace gone Holly leapt back into spell practice but quickly discovered another problem: her Trunk was too small.

The Trunk apartment severely limited the spells she could practice. Not having the Room of Requirement’s target range was a major blow. Briefly Holly considered moving into one of the empty Potter properties. One of them was sure to have dueling space. She’d be unable to skim muggle minds, that’d be a considerable loss. The speed of her learning would plummet.

Only then another thought hit her like the Hogwarts Express.

‘Wait…. Some of those properties must have a library.’

Two days later Holly was walking through a freshly cleaned Potter Manor. Immediately after her realization she’d visited Gringotts. She’d paid for the cleaning and two-way portkeys for travel between Gringotts and the Manor. Getting the wards reinforced was obviously necessary too. Once again, Holly was impressed at the efficiency of the goblins. They clearly were more sensible than wizards.

It was almost everything she could want: a massive library with rare books, dueling space, a comfortable bed, good food, and halls to explore.

(It was also a connection to her family but that wasn’t a factor. Not at all.)

She even had someone to talk to!

The goblins had brought over a house elf named Flory from another Potter property. When Holly had crouched down and introduced herself, Flory had broken into tears. Now Holly always had food in reach and the manor was spotless.

It took a few weeks to get Flory to stop bowing but she eventually stopped. Now if only Flory would stop calling her “Mistress Potter.”

With the trace broken, she knew she could’ve gone to Little Hangleton or the Seaside Cave and start searching but decided against it. The goblins latest update said they were finalizing their team and would soon scout the locations.

They’d already found Hufflepuff’s Cup in the Lestrange vault, purified it, and placed it in her vault. The Goblins obviously had it under control.

Instead Holly sunk into books and spell practice like never before. With a library of rare books to read and Flory constantly providing food the days bled together. Some days she’d read all day, completely ignoring everything except whatever book she was reading. Anytime she reached for food it was suddenly there. Whenever Holly eventually fell asleep facedown in a book she awoke in her bed.

Other days she’d spend in the practice room trying new spells she learned in the Potter library. She cast spell after spell until she was laying on the floor, sweaty and breathing hard.

Her favorite so far was a smaller but much stronger protego that she could cast wandlessly with her left hand and hold on her forearm like Captain America’s shield. Or she could cast it on her hand and literally slap incoming spells away. It was dumb, dodging spells was obviously better, but dammit it was cool.

She was living an academic isolationists' dream and loving it.

Holly had gotten so absorbed she’d completely lost all sense of time. It wasn’t until Flory reminded her she realized the term was only a few days away. She’d spent two whole months studying and practicing until she crashed. Holly reluctantly left the manor for the first time in over a month and portkeyed back to Gringotts in disguise.

She instantly noticed the shift in mood among shoppers and tensed.

The alley had always seemed carefree and whimsical before, but now there was an undercurrent of fear. Where there were once crowds of people, only scattered groups visible now.

Families were rushing from shop to shop. Children were held close, parents looking alert. She even noticed guards walking around.

The cause was made apparent when she saw the posters lining the streets.

Holly looked at the picture of the deranged man laughing hysterically before reading his name again.

‘Wait, Sirius Black? Isn’t he my godfather? I’d completely forgotten about that with everything else going on. Guess I know what he did now. Although… with how incompetent wizards are I should probably look into it myself.’

With her mind made up she finished her shopping quickly and left. Two days of frenzied reading and book packing later, her break was over.

Chapter 6: Year Three

Chapter Text

Holly arrived to Kings Cross several hours early and made her way through the barrier. For once the magical side was blissfully empty. After settling into a cabin, she pulled out her Muggle Studies textbook to absentmindedly skim through.

She wanted to know how much wizards understand about technology and normal people. Or if they even bother to pay attention to regular news. It’d be rather awkward if she got caught using magic to steal from people after all.

Plus, if there was a risk of Adult Tom coming back… do wizards even know what a gun is? Tom knew being muggle raised, but what about the average Death Eater? Wizards may love their overly dramatic and “honorable” duels but that was impractical. If she had to fight she’d do it smart.

She had struggled choosing her other elective but decided on Care of Magical Creatures. Care of Magical Creatures was nearly useless to her of course. Only Divination would be worse. Ancient Runes or Arithmancy seemingly would’ve been far, far more useful to her. What they were, however, was time consuming. By picking the 2 easiest electives she’d have more time to practice and plot in the Room of Requirement.

She didn’t need to take Runes and Arithmancy to test in them anyways.

Besides, she already had Tom’s memories of the classes. Why take the more time-consuming classes when it’d be review for her anyways? She had learned all the material from Diary Tom already. Sure, the curriculum could have changed slightly, but that was easily fixed with self-study. Her time would be better spent expanding what she already knew.

That's when it hit her just how advanced she was.

Tom had been fanatical in studies with his overwhelming need to prove himself. He was only a 5th year when he made the Diary but was years ahead in his studies. Plus, he was a better dueler than most 7th years. All his knowledge was hers now, without the megalomania blinding her.

Now as a 3rd year Holly probably could out duel anybody under 6th year easily. Likely could beat most upperclassmen. It was… kind of crazy now that she thought about it.

Good thing she didn’t have a god complex like Tom.

Grateful for her lack of megalomania, she lowered her book and closed her eyes to focus on strengthening her occlumency shields.

Maybe it was inherited paranoia from Tom, but Holly was wary of Dumbledore. She did not want him in her head. There were too many things she needed to hide. Like how she’d run away from the Dursleys. Or how she was the one that killed the basilisk. Or how she’d assaulted Lockhart. Or, oh yeah, how she’d stolen the memories of a baby dark lord’s horcrux.

So yeah, occlumency shields needed to be at maximum strength.

Her mindscape still wasn’t anywhere near ready, so she’d have to settle for her façade of useless memories with a solid wall underneath. It’d look like she didn’t know occlumency while protecting her secrets. While more than most occlumens bothered with, it still felt clumsy to her. If Dumbledore tried to delve deeper than her meaningless surface memories and found the wall she’d be screwed. Once that happened he’d know she was intentionally hiding things from him and never let it go. He’d find the Room, maybe even search her Trunk.

It was sometime later that Holly was abruptly pulled out of her meditation as the train abruptly jerked to a stop. Her eyes snapped open, looking out the window into the darkness. They weren’t at Hogwarts, that was clear. A flick of her wrist and her wand slid from her new arm holster and into her hand. With hardly a thought she silently cast lumos and was surprised at what she saw.

Granger was sitting across from her, averting her eyes from the sudden light. There was half a second of silence as Granger was blinking rapidly before Holly asked, “How long has the train been moving?”

“We’re nearly there, but Hogwarts isn’t in sight yet.”

Holly looked back outside into the heavy rain and darkness. Was she imagining things or was it abnormally dark out? And was that something moving out there?

As that occurred to her the water on the glass began to freeze and her breath became visible. She locked eyes with Granger and a silent understanding passed between them.

This was not good. Not good at all.

Holly turned towards the compartment doors and began warding them quickly as possible. Soon the doors were locked, charmed impregnable, shielded, reinforced, had a Notice-Me-Not, and a repelling compulsion.

But it wasn’t enough.

Before she could close the curtains, it appeared.

A faceless, formless black cloaked figure floating in the hallway (a dementor, the small, rational part of her mind supplied.) It paused outside their door and slowly turned to face them, ignoring that it shouldn’t be able to notice them. Two pale grey hands, covered in scabs, appeared from its cloak and pressed against the doors. As it leaned in Holly felt the strain on the wards. Frost formed on contact with the glass immediately.

She froze. Somehow, she knew, simply knew, that it was focused on her. Wanting to get inside and closer still.

Someone was screaming. Was it her? Was it Granger? It didn’t seem particularly important, not with the dementor’s presence bearing down on her. She was helpless, frozen in her seat. What good was all her studying? There was nothing she could do besides shiver. Completely powerless for the first time since leaving the Dursleys.

She couldn’t cast a Patronus. Diary Tom couldn’t and what did she know? She had stolen all her knowledge from him after all.

She lost track of time. It could’ve been a minute or an hour. Her vision was slowly darkening, her wards weakening as the dementor kept focusing on her and pushing.

Just as her wards failed and the door latch unlocked a brilliantly white shape appeared and chased the dementor off. Her head cleared as its foul presence was suddenly gone. She blinked away the darkness and turned to see an ashen faced Granger slowly recovering as well.

Holly cast a warming charm on herself and pulled up her legs, wrapping her arms around them. She refused to look helpless, to be helpless. Especially in front of Granger.

Resolving to learn the Patronus charm, she spent the rest of the train ride ignoring her surroundings and focusing on repairing her shredded occlumency shields.

(Hermione Granger meanwhile was trying to reconcile the fact her rival had clearly been hiding her real capabilities. She’d had an unfounded suspicion before but now the proof was blatant. Nonverbal casting and warding. Two advanced fields of magic Holly Potter was somehow skilled in. That was 5th year material at least! Hermione spent her remaining time on the train making a study schedule to learn them.)

(Only later would it occur to Hermione that Holly was likely hiding more skills.)

Soon as the train arrived Holly ditched the crowds to visit the kitchens. Even the muggle studies book she was halfway through didn’t sound appealing. All she wanted was a proper meal and good company. When she said as much to the house elves in the kitchen a few literally fell over themselves to hug her.

Several hours later Holly was feeling significantly better. The house elves were master cooks and provided endless food. They even gave her butterbeer from somewhere. She had a suspicion they weren’t supposed to but knew better then to mention it.

They listened to her stories of the summer and shared everything that happened at the castle. According to them, the librarian madam Pince and Filtch were secretly together.

Who knew house elves had the best gossip?

Sitting on a couch by a fireplace, with her stomach full, Holly’s food coma hit her like a truck. She slipped into unconsciousness under the soothing background noise of house elves working. Sometime later a smiling Tilly apparated her up to her bed, never waking her.

After breakfast she received her schedule from Professor Flitwick along with a slightly ominous note from the headmaster.

Apparently he wanted to talk to her before classes start.

Panic briefly overwhelmed her. Did he find out about something? What if he realized she wasn’t living with the Dursleys? What about Lockhart? Was this it? She had to stay rational, panic would give her away.

She took a few minutes to double check her occlumency barriers before making her way up to the specified location. After giving the password “treacle tart” the stone gargoyle moved aside and let her through.

‘What kind of idiot makes a staircase that rotates and moves up? That defeats the whole point of the stairs. f*cking wizards’

Still internally grumbling she knocked on the door before it opened.

“Ah Holly dear, come on in.” Holly saw the headmaster sitting behind his raised desk but was distracted by all the… stuff. Wizard clutter? Trinkets? Whatever the wizarding equivalent term was, the headmaster was a hoarder. Trinkets covered the various tables and behind his desk was clearly a personal library.

‘Oh how I’d love to get my hands on some of those. A hoarder like him probably keeps the best for himself.’

Holly was broken out of her bookish longing by the headmaster’s amused chuckles. Her expression must’ve given her embarrassment away because the headmaster smiled. Before they could make eye contact she looked down to examine the nearest trinket.

“Every year people give me books for Christmas, never a nice pair of socks. After so long I dare say I have quite the collection.” He popped a candy into his mouth, “Lemon drop?” She shook her head no without looking.

“Alas, it seems none ever do. Sadly, there are more serious matters. I heard a dementor went aboard the train without my permission and wanted to make sure that you are alright.”

Holly mentally scoffed, there was no way he asked that to everyone who was scared. She was clearly getting singled out. Did he expect her to react badly? Or maybe he felt it was time to introduce himself and took advantage of the opportunity? Either way, he wasn’t getting an honest answer.

She turned back towards him and carefully kept her eyes on his excessively long beard, “I’m ok Headmaster, the Dementor hardly even looked at me.”

There was a brief pause but she didn’t dare to look up and see his expression. “Fascinating. It seems I still can be surprised in my old age. Now, unfortunately there is another unpleasant matter to discuss.” She tensed slightly.

“With the escape of Sirius Black, I’d like to ask you not to leave the castle. Even Hogsmeade could be dangerous for you.”

Her eyes shot up to his face in surprise before she forced them back down. That… could be true. She hadn’t had time to look into Black’s past yet but it was better to be safe. Wizards may be idiots but it’d be stupid to ignore the warning entirely until she knew they were wrong.

But wait- “shouldn’t there be some kind of extra security there?”

“Ah, as I announced at the Feast there will be dementors posted around the school by order of the Ministry. Hogsmeade itself will have auror patrols. However, Sirius Black has gotten past them before and cannot be guaranteed to keep you safe. I highly recommend staying within Hogwarts.”

Holly was conflicted. On the one hand there was a potential serial killer after her. On the other, nobody knew she was a metamorphmagus. And she had the Cloak. She could easily stay hidden. Plus, she’d already forged the permission slip. It wasn’t that she was overly interested in the town itself, but there was a bookstore and the nebulas feeling of freedom involved.

Still, why did she feel like she was missing something? Something about why Black would be after her. Come to think of it, Dumbledore hadn’t mentioned that Black was her godfather. Or that he’d blood adopted her. They were puzzle pieces she couldn’t quite make fit.

Good thing she had somebody to pump for information right in front of her. She couldn’t risk reading his mind. That meant she needed to question him. Hopefully the blunt approach would work.

“While I was at Gringotts I learned Sirius Black is my godfather and that he blood adopted me. Would that have something to do with why you think he’s after me?”

There was a pregnant pause and Holly risked a quick glance up and could see Dumbledore was visibly surprised.

That didn’t make sense, obviously she had visited Gringotts to get her money. Did he think she wouldn’t ask after her accounts? Or maybe he didn’t like the goblins? That seemed common for some reason. Probably because of Binns droning on about goblin rebellions. Either way he obviously hadn’t expected her to know.

“That is partially why. All I will say is that he was involved in your parents’ death. Perhaps when you are older you will learn more.”

‘Diary Tom was right, he really can be condescending.’ She quickly buried the thought and smothered her frustration into a cold anger. Blowing up at him wouldn’t help anything.

“Thank you for the warning headmaster, if that will be all.” Before he could think to respond the door was already closing behind her.

(As the door closed Albus Dumbledore looked towards Fawkes. “Perhaps Minerva is right. I may have too many trinkets if Holly never noticed you.” On his stand Fawkes trilled in amusem*nt before going back to sleep. Albus popped another lemon drop into his mouth and leaned back in his chair to think over their conversation.)

Holly was furious as she took a shortcut into the Room of Requirement. She wanted to practice the Patronus charm but was self-aware enough to realize it’d be pointless while angry. Instead, she had the Room create several moving targets shaped like Death Eaters that launched beanbags at her. As she destroyed one another would replace it.

Several hours later she was covered in new bruises and exhausted, but no longer angry.

Chapter 7: Year Three (II)

Chapter Text

Her 3rd year started much the same as the first two. The 1st years kept wanting to talk with her until they finally got the message she wasn’t interested. The annoying phase ended faster this year, only lasting 2 weeks. She still had to body bind one boy but that was all. Hopefully next year it’d be even shorter.

She had her first Muggle Studies class on Tuesday and its was… interesting. From reading her book beforehand she went in with low expectations but damn. Wizards really were clueless about muggles. In hindsight it wasn’t surprising since the “Wizarding World” was almost entirely self-isolating. Combine that with their education only including magic and you get an entire society that can’t put on shoes without a spell.

After several of her classmates asked enlightening questions (“Why do muggles use a tellyphone?” and “What does Elktricty do?”) Holly shared a dumbfounded look with Granger. Suffice to say her only concern with the class was restricting herself to the outdated information the book provided.

It also answered her question of if wizards knew what a gun was. Answer: hard no.

Care of Magical Creatures was also interesting. Hagrid was obviously a gentle giant but not exactly the best professor. Between assigning a book that bites and opening the class with Hippogriffs he seemed rather absentminded about the whole teaching thing. The first class ended early after Hagrid looked at her and started crying. The entire class watched as he pulled out a massive handkerchief and wiped his nose with it.

After several minutes of the entire class awkwardly shuffling in place and awkward side glances all of them started slowly backing away and left.

Defense against the Dark Arts was, for the first time, an informative and interesting class. First Professor Lupin impressed her by not stuttering and answering a question correctly. After that the class kept getting better. He passed around a syllabus (Granger looked to be shaking in excitement) and promised to help make up for the last 2 years. From the looks on her classmates faces it seemed to be appreciated. She even managed to learn something new! Granted it was useless trivia about grindylows but still, it was nice.

The only downside of the class was how Professor Lupin, like Snape, seemed to slightly avoid looking at her. Granted he was better about it but still.

Now that she thought about it that seemed to happen a lot. Just earlier that day Hagrid cried at the sight of her. Professor McGonagall always gave her a slight smile when she did her transfiguration on the first try but… it was always slightly bittersweet. Once Holly had caught her discreetly wiping her eye. She assumed she’d imagined it at the time but now… and Professor Flitwick had an odd reaction to her too! There was her memorable first class when he’d fell over after reading her name. Then whenever she’d successful cast a spell first he’d beam with pride. She’d assumed it was normal but now she wasn’t sure.

Holly didn’t think too much about her appearance. She didn’t consider herself pretty or ugly. It just wasn’t important to her. Considering her shapeshifting, it honestly didn’t matter. Still, her teachers’ reactions planted a seed of curiosity the had her looking in her reflection in the Room that evening.

Her hair was bright red and untameably curly as ever, falling to her mid back. She could straighten it with a thought of course but it never bothered her. It hid her infamous scar rather well. There were subtle freckles across her nose and her eyes were bright green. Nearly glowing green even. She quite liked them. She suspected others found them unsettling and was sure to use it.

Her face was just starting to lose the childish roundness and look more like a teenager. Still blissfully acne free somehow. Thankfully she wasn’t awkwardly lanky yet. She was seriously tempted to use her shapeshifting to skip over that step next summer away from prying eyes. Puberty didn’t hit her like a brick but instead was a slow ongoing thing. She was still thin but not malnourished looking anymore. Though some nutrient potions may help her growth not be stunted... something to consider later.

(She’d never been more grateful for her mindreading for explaining that to her. Though she did feel bad for the teenagers she’d stolen their memories of receiving The Talk from to compare differences. The Room had even provided a book on the wizarding equivalent one day, helpful charms and potions included. She gave the Room a grateful pat on the floor and pretended it was happy.)

Altogether she looked like a normal 13-year-old girl in her own opinion. There wasn’t anything obviously weird about her appearance to warrant her professors’ reactions.

Maybe it was another weird wizard thing? Or maybe they were disappointed because she was antisocial? Either way she simply shrugged at her newfound social leprosy with her professors. So long as they kept giving her accurate grades it’d be easy to zone out.

In her second week Professor Lupin brought them to the staffroom to face off against a boggart. When she realized that the entire class would see each other’s worst fears she turned away, inwardly cursing wizard logic.

‘Oh, so we’re expected to wear stuffy robes all the time because it’d be improper otherwise, but somehow publicly showing our worst fear is ok? f*cking wizards.’

She tried to think of what form it’d take. Not the basilisk, that thing was surprisingly easy to kill. Diary Tom was a possibility, but she doubted it. She’d beaten him once before and was much weaker then. She could beat that teenage megalomaniac again. Adult Tom was another, but she saw him more as a goal to overcome, not an unbeatable enemy. That really only left dementors but even those… she hated them and the fact they existed. Sure, getting her soul sucked out was terrifying but she was more scared of what they did to her, how helpless she had felt.

Feeling completely helpless, she realized, was her worst fear.

She wasn’t sure how a boggart would portray that but was grateful when Professor Lupin ended the lesson before she could. It was another example of being treated weird but she was grateful for it.

Holly sunk into her routine. Eat breakfast, morning classes, eat lunch with the elves, afternoon classes. Slip away from people into hidden Room entrances and practice Patronus charm or read until bedtime, sleep, repeat. The only changes were the topics in class, conversational topics with the elves, the regularly scheduled nutrient potion, and Granger.

She and Granger had been having more minor interactions recently. Between hiding laughter at their wizard raised classmates in Muggle Studies, wariness in Care, and beating her in practical lessons, they were interacting more than ever. It wasn’t antagonistic either but more… casual? Relaxed?

There was still competition between them, but Granger didn’t seem so resentful anymore. She wasn’t even annoying anymore!

Holly didn’t understand it.

She knew what friendship was like from others’ memories but never experienced it herself. Except for house elves but they were so naturally friendly it hardly counted. Was that what was starting to form between them? She could read Grangers’ mind but that felt like cheating. Either way it confused her.

So long as Granger didn’t annoy or stalk her, she decided, she didn’t mind.

(One night Holly realized that, before Dumbledore and ignoring the house elves, her last conversation was with Lockhart. And that hardly counted. Before that… maybe one of her primary school teachers? Her professors were strictly professional, they'd never attempted to talk with her outside class. While wandering the continent she’d only interacted with shopkeepers or to brush someone off. Pushing away annoying classmates didn’t count. The Dursleys avoided talking to her. In primary school Dudley had scared everyone off.

The only reason she had any social skills at all was because she’d stolen them. Holly wasn’t sure how to feel about that.)

Her attempts at the Patronus charm were going poorly. The wand motion and incantation were simple enough, it was the happy memory that was hard. She tried the day she ran away from the Dursleys but only got mist. She supposed it was too tainted by the Dursleys. Next was seeing the library at Potter Manor. That failed too. Same thing with getting the Cloak. She had no clue why.

(A tiny unconscious part of her knew why: they were reminders of the hole in her life where family should be.)

Eventually she realized it was less about the memory and more abstractly about the emotion itself. The memory was just the best way to feel an emotion. Once she knew that her patronus started getting more and more defined with each attempt.

After a month of attempts, she finally succeeded by focusing on the joy complete freedom and thievery gave her.

With a wave of her wand and a shouted incantation a raven flew from her wand and landed on her shoulder. She smiled at the bird and it preened under her attention.

It was rather fitting, she thought. She was a Ravenclaw (though for some damn reason their symbol was an eagle. More wizard nonsense. Or maybe witch nonsense in this case?) and ravens were typically associated with intelligence. At least, that was what others would assume.

She knew the real reason: ravens like to take shiny things.

She wasn’t practicing against anything so she couldn’t be certain it’d work when faced with a dementor, but it was better than nothing. She knew from Diary Tom that Fiendfyre could hurt but not kill them. That wasn’t exactly an option so patronus it was.

She thought it said something about the complacency in the wizarding world that nobody had succeeded in killing dementors. They were soul-sucking horrors that radiate depression and decay. Finding a way to kill them should’ve been top priority. Instead, wizards had tried the usual methods, failed, and shrugged before making deals with them.

(Holly tried not to think about the ethical nightmare Azkaban was. f*cking wizards thought giving prisoners to soul sucking monsters that’d previously defected was a good idea. She’d decided to put “discover a way to kill dementors” on her mental list of long term goals somewhere after “Kill Tom properly” and “rob pureblood supremacists blind.” Those two goals were heavily related after all.)

Soon enough it was Halloween and Holly was skipping the feast to eat in the kitchens. Or at least, she was until an elf she didn’t recognize popped in yelling about Sirius Black being in the castle. Naturally they all started panicking at that. After a few seconds Tilly appeared, apparated them both into the back of a crowd of Ravenclaw students and popped away immediately.

Somehow nobody noticed her sudden appearance. That didn’t bode well for the whole “safety in numbers” thing. Then again, having them notice and question her would be annoying. Holly simply shrugged and followed the crowd back to the Great Hall where they were apparently spending the night. She dragged her sleeping bag over to a wall and pulled out an arithmancy book.

Unfortunately, there were too many people whispering to ignore them. Fortunately, they were saying interesting things.

So Black had apparently tried to break into Gryffindor? Interesting. Especially since everyone and their headmaster made it sound like Black was after her. Granted, he could have made a mistake and assumed she’d be there. But he’d been out of Azkaban for months now. Surely that was long enough to pick up on gossip.

No, it seemed like Black wasn’t after her after all. He was after something else.

She’d started researching Black a week ago but it was slow going. The library had a stack of old Daily Prophets she was digging through. She knew the official story now: that Sirius Black had killed Peter Pettigrew and 14 people, none wizards, shortly after Adult Tom had supposedly been killed by her. He was then tossed into Azkaban post haste; without a trial she could find any records of.

But that wasn’t the full story. It couldn’t be. If he was legally her godfather, then her parents must have known him. Been close to him.

That wasn't even considering how he’d blood adopted her, something usually only done when wizarding parents couldn’t conceive and wanted a blood heir. She had no clue why that happened if he was already her godfather. All she knew is that apparently she was equally both a Potter and Black. Which also made her Black’s heir. Hence the goblins calling her “Miss Potter-Black.”

Put simply, she had no clue what to think.

Except that she was definitely breaking into Gryffindor soon.

Chapter 8: Year Three (III)

Chapter Text

Holly spent the next few days stalking Gryffindors between classes. Their common room was also in a tower but password protected, not a riddle like her own. And frankly, it was easy to find for a supposedly secret room.

What was the point of making them secret anyways? Hell, what was the point of sorting them in the first place? That’s just asking for conflict. But that wasn’t important right now.

She watched as they said the password “Flibbertigibbet” and the painting swung open.

Later that night she was pacing in the Room while plotting her break in.

She could shapeshift into a Gryffindor student, give the password, then start searching? Stunning a student would be easy. As would be changing the colors on her robes. But then people would try to talk to her and she’d blow her cover.

She could use the Cloak and sneak in after someone? That’d be easy. Not so easy would be walking through a busy common room without bumping someone. Or opening a door without someone noticing.

There was a Gryffindor quidditch game on Saturday. Their common room would probably be nearly empty then. That’d make the Cloak-

Holly abruptly stopped pacing and slowly turned towards the nearest wall. Or, what used to be a solid wall. Now there was a tunnel with red and gold Gryffindor lions flanking it.

“It was that simple the whole time? Are you kidding me? Whoever made the Room was obviously a genius but did not think through all the implications. I really hope it can’t get into any bedrooms. You got that Room? No helping perverts.”

Although… wasn’t she planning on breaking into them right now?

Hmm. Best not to think about that.

After several minutes of walking there was a dead end with only a peephole in it. Trying and failing not to feel like a pervert, she looked through.

On the other side there were at several dozen gryffindors relaxing in what was obviously their common room. Everything was red and gold. The walls, floors, furniture, everything. At least Ravenclaw’s was more subtle. Obnoxiously colored or not, there was a warm and cozy feeling there that Ravenclaw’s room was lacking. Maybe because they were less restrained, not all quietly buried in their books.

Sure enough, there was Granger completely focused on a book. By the fireplace was the formerly possessed Weasley girl, Ginny she now knew, along with several others who must be her siblings. The prankster twins were clearly putting on some kind of show for a few others. She vaguely recalled them trying to talk to her 1st year and ignoring them. The youngest boy was playing chess with a rat in his lap while the oldest was trying and failing to get the twins attention.

Was that what a normal family was like? Probably not considering there were far more of them than average. If she wasn’t famous people would probably think she was a Weasley with her red hair.

How the entirety of “Magical Britain” seemingly had only one redhead family she had no clue. Probably something to do with inbreeding and lack of genetic diversity.

She ignored the odd feeling in her chest and studying the room. It wasn’t too different from the Ravenclaw dorms, all things considered. Sure enough there were two visible sets of stairs leading to what she assumed were dormitories.

It seemed easy enough. Now all she had to do was wait for Saturday.

The rest of the week dragged on. Her anticipation made her already boring classes even worse. Once again, her acting skills were being put to the test. Thankfully nobody paid attention and her nerves went mostly unnoticed. Only Granger and Snape seemed to notice anything.

Thankfully Granger seemed too nervous to approach her. Hopefully Granger thought she was scared about the break in. In a manner of speaking it was even true.

Snape though, he seemed to be in an especially bad mood since the break in. He actually managed to glare directly at her. Which, good for him, it’d only taken 3 years. She briefly considered giving him a round of applause for managing it.

So far this year he’d continued his trend of asking her advanced questions that only she, not even Granger, could possibly answer. He’d never stopped since her first potions class. By the end of 1st year, he’d reached 3rd year material. By the end of 2nd he’d reached 5th year material.

She’d always been able to answer before but that was largely due to stealing Diary Tom’s knowledge. Now he was on 6th year material, NEWT level, and still looking for a gap in her knowledge. Somehow, she knew it’d be bad when that finally happened.

So for the first time since stealing Diary Tom’s knowledge Holly read in preparation for a class. Granted, she was reading NEWT and mastery level potion books for a 3rd year class, but still. It was the spirit of the thing.

This class though, Snape had somehow picked up on her nerves and pounced.

“Potter! You’ll be working alone as usual. While everyone else brews Shrinking Solution, you will be brewing Wound Cleaning Potion instead. Now begin brewing.”

Everyone stared in shock and disbelief. Granger looked ready to explode in righteous indignation. Even the most apathetic of her classmates looked outraged. Ignoring everything else, Holly immediately moved to the supply cabinet to get ingredients. As she did the entire class slowly snapped out of their daze.

‘Wound Cleaning potion. That’s 6th year material! Is he trying to make me finally mess up? You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’ll make the best damn wound cleaning potion he’s ever seen.’

Holly started brewing with a never before seen intensity. For 90 minutes there was only her and her workstation. She let muscle memory take over as she sliced and chopped at an alarming rate. Diary Tom’s experience guided but did not control her. In fact, she thought of a minor improvement to make by reducing the amount of dittany and adding chopped mint leaves. Her hair started to curl even more and beads of sweat formed, but she didn't notice.

She was In The Zone.

Holly was so focused she was oblivious to her attention she was drawing. At first most of the class was sneaking pitying glances. That shifted some time later into outright stares. Even Snape’s attention drifted away from the rest of the class.

That’s when things went downhill.

First, Neville Longbottom stared for a second too long and blew up his potion. Then Ron Weasley did the same. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas’ cauldrons exploded shortly after. On the Ravenclaw side there were no destroyed cauldrons but more awed stares. And envy. But mostly awe.

Even Hermione’s potion suffered as her attention was drawn to the sight that was Holly in The Zone. With the entire class distracted the average grade that day dropped from the usual Acceptable/Poor to Dreadful.

After 90 minutes Holly shut off her flame, victorious. Her potion was slightly darker purple then the book described but that was expected from her modifications. She sat down on her stool and wiped her forehead, surprised when her sleeve came away slightly damp.

“Potter! What did you do?” She jumped slightly, alarmed to see him looming over her and staring at her caldron.

“I modified it slightly, sir. By reducing the dittany and adding mint the potion should be less painful without losing strength. Saves gold too with dittany being the expensive ingredient.”

“How… quaint. Leave a vial here for assessment, the rest is yours as you see fit. I want a full writeup on the effects of your alterations by class Monday.”

“Uh, sir-"

“Five points from Ravenclaw for stuttering. Now bottle your potion and leave. I will see you in my 5th year class Monday afternoon.” And, as if she wasn’t frozen in shock, he turned back to the dumbfounded class.

Holly vaguely heard the sound of several more cauldrons exploding and Snape yelling in the background but couldn’t process that.

Couldn’t process anything at the moment.

She mechanically bottled her potion, careful not to spill her vials. She packed her things, left the sample vial on Snape’s desk, shielded herself from an explosion, and fled the room.

Even as he was yelling at dunderheads, vanishing failed potions, and sending buffoons to the hospital wing he was inwardly smiling.

The Potter brat had come into his class twitchy with well disguised anticipation. No others noticed but he did not survive the Dark Lord without learning to read someone’s mood perfectly.

His first thought was a prank. If she was anything like Potter himself then there would soon be a childish prank somewhere on an unsuspecting Hufflepuff.

But no, she was, as much as he loathed to admit it, different from him. And for the better.

Oh, the arrogance was still there. That seemed hereditary. But her ego was academic in nature and, he hated to admit, somewhat justified. Why the girl had N.E.W.T. level knowledge of potions he could not fathom. Perhaps his attempts to expose a gap in her knowledge had motivated her.

(He would have to mention that to Albus next time the old coot bothered him about his teaching style. It seems he may have successfully taught someone for a change.)

Regardless, it seemed the brat had inherited Lily’s skill in potions and then some. If Slughorn ever found out, merlin save him, he would start waxing poetic about Lily.

Again.

So seeing her anxious expression meant something else. Not a prank. Couldn’t be academic at all if his coworkers’ tales to be believed. She was such a recluse doing something foolhardy with friends was a non-chance.That meant it was a solo “extracurricular.” Likely some form of trouble making, something dangerous to herself, or both.

He took the opportunity to truly test her. And if he happened to choose a potion that may protect her from herself? Well, that was nobody’s business but his.

He had a reputation to keep.

Watching her brew was an experience. Oh, he’d stopped a few fools from blowing themselves up, but he was focused on her. He knew she could likely brew the potion. Knew she’d respond to the challenge. And merlin did she.

A N.E.W.T. level potion, brewed alone and spontaneously altered in a single class period. Successfully. That alteration was… efficient and may become the standard formula once published. It would save 5 Sickles a batch, bringing down the cost of Wound-Cleansing Potion moderately. While improving the effects.

He would not expect that from his 7th years, much less a 3rd year Potter brat.

Asking for the paper writeup afterwards was a pretense. He was already planning on sending her paper to the editor of Potions Weekly crediting her, wanting no mention of himself. The goblins would patent it for her and collect the profits. Meanwhile the brat would simply look like an overachiever.

She likely wouldn’t realize there was a paper published under her name for some time.

Throwing her into his 5th year class would keep her distracted. The brat could take her N.E.W.T. right now and receive an Exceeds Expectations. But then the brat would have an extra free period. And a bored Potter was a dangerous Potter. If today was any indication, the brat was prone to foolishness. She could take her O.W.L. this year and N.E.W.T. the next. Merlin help them all after that.

At least she wouldn’t be in his class anymore like the ghost of his past mistakes.

It was that thought that kept him inwardly smiling even as the 10th caldron exploded.

Holly spent that evening writing the full paper on her alterations, careful to make sure it was perfect. Snape would undoubtedly fault her the smallest error.

And if she was using it to distract herself from how weird that class was? Nobody would know. Not that she was of course. No, she was just being through. Mhmm.

Still, at least a 5th year class would be more interesting. Still review but she’d need to put some effort in. Maybe Snape was trying to set her up to fail. That seemed possible. Either way, hopefully her new classmates would leave her alone.

That Friday, the day before Gryffindor’s quidditch match, Holly walked into Defense and stopped short. Snape was at the desk, looking like someone personally offended him. It was weird. But it only got weirder.

First was Snape excusing Professor Lupin’s absence as him being sick. Plausible, the man tended to look rather worn down. Less clear was why Snape seemed extra cruel today.

Only, that made itself clear soon enough.

Snape’s random topic shift to werewolves and obvious contempt. Professor Lupin’s random sickness. There were the other clues too. Professor Lupin’s shabby clothes. His scarred face. His prematurely aged look.

Hell, even his name was Lupin, derived from lupus, Latin for wolf. Even his first name, Remus, was a reference to the legendary twin brothers, Romulus and Remus, founders of Rome, who were raised by the wolf Lupa. His name was essentially “Wolfy McWolfson.” Either it was an ironic alias, his parents were seers, or some cosmic stroke of fate.

‘A werewolf then. Knew he was too good of a professor for there not to be something. Well, so long as he has Wolfsbane provided or some other security its whatever.’

She spent the rest of class skimming her book and subtly trying to see if anybody else realized it. Granger seemed like she might’ve, but she was the only one. The rest were too distracted being angry with Snape. Or willfully blind. Who knew with wizards?

Towards the end of class Snape pointedly made eye contact with her. Obviously he’d realized she knew. She shrugged in a blasé “so what?” kinda way. Snape sneered and looked away. One very pointed assignment on werewolves later, class was dismissed.

After the longest week of her life, it was finally, finally, time to break into Gryffindor tower. Or maybe sneak in was more accurate? Either way, it was happening today.

She watched through the Room provided peephole passage (now there was a phrase she’d never say out loud) as their common room emptied as they left to watch the game. She really didn’t see the appeal of quidditch. Especially in this weather. But right now she was grateful for it.

She slipped on the Cloak, silenced her feet along with the newly formed door, then crept out. She silently passed by oldest Weasley who was buried in books and parchment towards the dorms.

Deciding to start with the upper years, she crept up into the girls side.

Several rooms later and Holly hadn’t found anything suspicious. Granted she wasn’t sure what she was looking for but still. She was pretty sure it wasn’t trashy romance novels, an overdue library book, or something that looked suspiciously like a magical sex toy. Holly was starting to regret breaking through the enchantments on that girls’ trunk now. But not enough to stop searching.

Working down the girls dorms by grade there wasn’t much of note. There were some love potions in one that she stole to destroy. Nasty things. Holly thought the fact they weren’t illegal said a lot about wizards.

Granger’s room looked exactly like she expected. That is with stacks of library books and neatly piled papers everywhere. She even had a study schedule with time for nonverbal casting and warding. Interesting.

Not even the 1st and 2nd years were exempt from her search. She learned her lesson from last year about underestimating people. Again, nothing of note. Moving on she snuck back to the common room to start searching the boys’ dorms.

The 6th and 7th year boys dorms seemed messier on average but at least there were no romance novels. That balanced it out in her opinion. Either way there was nothing important.

The 5th year dorms though, now that was interesting. It was horribly messy but of a different sort. Pranking materials and potion components were scattered about. Interspaced were what looked like cost expenditures and business plans. It seemed the school pranksters wanted to go professional. They’d be successful too if the profit margins on some of the sheets were accurate.

‘Perhaps I could give them a startup loan. Maybe be a silent partner even. They seem likely to succeed after all.’

It was while plotting business plans that she found it. A seemingly blank sheet of parchment atop one of their nightstands. Holly didn’t need a spell to know that it was soaked with magic. Clearly more than a simple glamor to appear blank. Running a hand over it she could feel the complex layers of enchantments. Whatever it was it skillfully made and worth close examination. She pocketed it and left. She could leave a note or stack of galleons but vetoed the idea.

She’d be returning it soon enough. Probably.

It wasn’t until the 3rd year rooms she found anything else interesting. But not a good kind of interesting. The awful, morbidly interesting kind.

When she opened the door a sickly looking rat startled awake on one of the beds. That wasn’t weird. Well, the rat on the bed thing was but it wasn’t that. Sure, from its perspective a door opened and closed for no reason. That startling it awake wasn’t weird.

What was weird is how the rat kept staring and sniffing the air. It was more focused than a rat should be. Almost intelligent…

Chills ran down her spine. Could it be an animagus? She knew the spell to reveal them, but that would alert it. If it had a wand and attacked her she’d be at a disadvantage under the Cloak. No, she needed to be subtle and keep the element of surprise.

Reaching out with her mind would work. Even if it was an adult wizard and they knew occlumency they couldn’t hide the fact they had a mind. But it could alert him.

She’d need to take precautions.

Holly reached back, shifting the Cloak quietly as possible so she could point her wand at the door. Keeping her eyes on the potentially not-rat, she silently warded the door with everything she knew. After 30 seconds the door was virtually indestructible, it’d take a professor or a student interested in cursebreaking to open now.

With the room secure she tentatively reached out with her mind and nearly threw up. She was right and she hated it. Touching its, no Peter Pettigrew’s, mind was worse than Diary Tom’s.

She mentally lashed out, instantly giving him a critical migraine. It must feel like a bus landed on his head but she didn’t care. She threw off the Cloak as the not-rat squeaked in pain and started casting. A few seconds later he was tightly bound in a transfigured cage she’d charmed unbreakable.

She crouched down and looked the terrified not-rat in the eye. Without saying anything she stunned him, shoved the cage into her bag, and nearly forgot the Cloak in her anger. Once the Cloak was on she tore down her wards and fled Gryffindor tower quickly as possible.

Back in the Room she took the cage out and set it down. She reached into his mind, careful not to steal anything. Investigators would probably find gaps in his memory suspicious.

Instead she manually watched memory after memory.

She watched the Rat met her father. How the Marauders formed and believed themselves inseparable. How they pulled pranks that were definitely bullying. How they constantly harassed a younger Snape. (Who strangely enough was friends with her mother? Now that explained some of his weird behavior.) How her father was completely infatuated with but infuriated her mother. She saw them become animagi to help Professor Lupin. (And wasn’t it weird that he popped up too?) Saw them search the castle and forest. Saw Snape’s fallout with her mother and Black as he nearly got Snape killed. Saw her father rescue him (now that explained more of his weird behavior.)

Saw the other Marauders eventually mature as they became better people.

Saw her parents fall in love.

(She did NOT need to know that was why her mother had a school trunk with an apartment. That memory was getting locked away. Permanently. Right after she replaced the bed.)

But the later school years of the Rat’s were tainted with jealousy. His insecurity slowly poisoned him from the inside. She watched the Rat get dragged along into a war he didn’t want to fight. Saw her parents fighting Death Eaters. Saw her parents go into hiding over a prophecy. Saw the Rat go crawling to Adult Tom begging for his life. Saw him weasel his way into becoming Secret Keeper and betray her parents. Saw how he framed Black-no, Sirius, when he came for revenge.

Holly dragged herself out of her mind before she got to his time at the Weasley’s. She really didn’t want to see those memories.

She leaned back on a suddenly materialized couch to sort out her conflicting emotions.

She could kill him. He deserved it several times over. But then Sirius would never get proven innocent.

For the same reason she couldn’t scramble his mind or steal any or his memories. That would have to come later.

That meant she’d have to turn him in. She could send him to the Auror Department at the Ministry. Some of her parents’ friends probably still worked there. But what were the odds the Rat would be intercepted and get “disappeared” before a trial? Too high.

She could take him to a professor. Once they found out they’d certainly help. But she wasn’t close with any of them. They’d get Dumbledore involved and he’d handle it.

At that point why not go to Dumbledore himself? She hardly knew him at all outside of Tom’s memories, plus the only conversation she’d had with him was rather condescending. She didn’t trust him. And catching his attention would be disastrous.

But there was no denying he was a political powerhouse. If he showed up at the Ministry with the Rat in custody it’d be extremely difficult to bury the story.

Unfortunately, it seemed he was her best option.

Although… she could try to spread the word. If she gave an anonymous tip to a few reporters, they could spread the story. Or she could ask the goblins to bribe the Daily Prophet into printing the story.

Or both. Both would be good.

That only left covering up her rule breaking. If Dumbledore found out she got into Gryffindor's dorms there’d be questions. That was unacceptable. She needed to make it look like she’d found the Rat naturally.

That wasn’t exactly easy. Maybe she could say she was practicing animagus wards somewhere in the castle and they were activated? That… might be believable honestly. But it’d reveal her warding skills.

She could say she caught a rat to practice transfiguration on only to recognize an animagus. That was better. Less believable in that she’d chase a random rat, but it’d hide her skills.

Or she could just say “I saw this rat and it seemed weird, turned out it’s an animagus.” That was probably the best honestly.

Cover story decided, she need to make it believable. That meant modifying the Rat’s memory to match. Rather convenient Lockhart had so graciously given her his considerable experience with it last year. She hadn’t had a chance to practice it yet but that was fine.

She had a lab Rat after all.

One obliviate later and the Rat’s memory matched her cover story: he’d decided to use the distraction of the quidditch game to slip away to the kitchens, only to stare at Holly a second too long and get stunned.

What followed all blurred together for her.

She quickly wrote a few anonymous letters to reporters saying there was a big scoop at the Ministry soon. Another to the goblins asking them to persuade the Daily Prophet to print the story, including a healthy payment for them of course.

After that she brought the Rat to Dumbledore using her cover story to explain. One spell to confirm later, he’d asked for Snape to come with veritaserum. Once a suddenly furious Snape arrived the Rat confessed under its influence. Dumbledore called Ministry. Someone named Amelia Bones introduced herself to Holly. Holly mumbled something about not wanting to be mentioned in the story. Amelia Bones repeated the interrogation of the Rat. They, along with Dumbledore, took the Rat back to the Ministry.

Snape escorted her out while lecturing her. She thought she heard something about being prone to foolishness? She wasn’t exactly paying attention.

Regardless, she ended up back at Ravenclaw tower and took a nap. It’d been a tiring week.

Chapter 9: Year Three (IV)

Chapter Text

Unknown to Holly, there was currently a screaming match echoing through the Ministry of Magic. For 3 hours the entire Ministry of Magic was silent except for yelling over the intercom.

To say Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was unhappy to see a living Peter Pettigrew was an understatement. He had gotten into office riding the success of being the one to catch Sirius Black. If Black was innocent his image would be ruined. So no, it could not be true. Obviously Dumbledore was trying to have him thrown out in order to steal his job. And what Fudge believed was fact.

Delores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, was in a similar state. She had attached her reputation to the minister. If he was ousted she would be along with him. So she fought back. Argued that the whole story was fake. That there was no way a pureblood family could unknowingly host an animagus for 12 years. That the confession was meaningless. That Peter Pettigrew was dead. Clearly Polyjuice and memory charms were involved.

Amelia Bones, Director of Ministry Law Enforcement, was also having a bad day. An innocent man had been falsely imprisoned without a trial for 12 years. Completely inexcusable. Even worse was her boss’ reaction. They cared more about their careers then anyone and anything. They’d rather invent conspiracies then admit they messed up. All the while listening to those who made well timed “donations.” Amelia let them know what she thought of that. Rather loudly.

Albus Dumbledore, old man with too many jobs, was having a great day. The truth had come to light and an innocent man would go free. And it had been young Holly Potter herself who exposed it! Admittedly he had been fooled himself, but he was glad to be proven wrong.

If the soundproofing charm happened to fail on the office? Well, that was unfortunate timing. So too was the intercom randomly switching on. Quite convenient that.

Albus sat down and took out his bag of lemon drops to enjoy the show. He made sure to interject occasionally, cheerfully reminding Delores how he’d turned down being Minister before. Or how often Cornelius had firecalled him asking for advice. After several hours he was out of lemon drops and he may have lost some hearing, but still, a great day indeed.

Hundreds of ministry employees listened in silence as the yelling echoed, wishing they could be a fly on the wall. Unknown to everyone, there wasn’t a fly, but a certain beetle animagus reporter instead.

When Holly came down to breakfast the entire hall was chaotic. Some were frantically reading the paper. Others were loudly arguing. Even the Professors were too consumed by their discussions to quiet the students. Though for some reason Dumbledore did look suspiciously amused.

From the snippets she heard it seemed her plan had worked. Sitting down, she stole a Daily Prophet from someone too busy to notice and grinned.

The article salaciously described the situation in something akin to a soap opera. There were blustering bureaucrats, righteously furious law enforcement, and a meddling old coot popping candies.

Life did imitate art it seemed.

She pocketed the paper and ate quickly. She had potions tomorrow to prepare for. She was not going to let Snape win.

(In Hogsmeade, Padfoot nearly fell over in shock upon seeing the paper. And from hunger. But mostly from shock. It seemed Wormtail would get what was coming.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t kill the traitor himself. But he would be a free man soon. He’d be able to see little Holly. That, he realized, was more important.

He turned towards London to turn himself in. A little veritaserum and he should be a free man. Good Loki, he hoped the Ministry didn’t f*ck this up.)

After morning Defense and lunch Holly walked into Snape’s classroom. She was nervous but excited. Maybe she’d learn something new? After dropping her paper on his desk, she sat at a desk in the back and pulled out her copy of Advanced Potion Making. She didn’t know what the class had been working on before and she need to be ready. Snape would undoubtedly start her off with something insane.

She was pulled out of her reading when several shadows fell over her. From somewhere above her a deep voice asked, “Are you supposed to be here?”

Without bothering to look up she simply said “yep” and kept reading. If they said anything else she didn’t notice. She had an unreasonable potions professor to prepare for.

Sometime later she heard the door bang open and her head snapped up. 'Three… two... one-'

“Potter! Your tie is crooked, five points from Ravenclaw.” Without stopping Snape walked to the front of the class. “As you can see, we have a new celebrity in our class. Do not let this distract you.”

With a wave on his hand instructions appeared on the board. "Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: The Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. "

“Potter, you will be working alone.” At sudden outcry in voices, he cut them off. “20 points from both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Get to work.”

The class looked mutinous, but Holly didn’t mind. She was used to working without a partner. No partner meant nobody trying to chat with her. No interruptions. Nobody to mess her up. She gathered her ingredients and got to work.

Just after she finished adding the moonstone powder Snape materialized behind her.

“Potter, if you wanted to increase the duration of your Drought of Peace what alterations would you make?” She kept working even as she thought it over.

The two core ingredients were unicorn horn and moonstone, both powdered. Everything else was simply balancing out the effects. Changing how finely powdered they were would affect the dissolution rate but change nothing other than the brewing time. Altering the amount of either would unbalance the whole thing. Adding an amplifier element would make the potion too strong and put the user permanently asleep.

That meant altering the ingredients properties instead.

Without looking away from her workspace she answered. “If the potion was brewed during a full moon the moonstones extra potency would increase the duration. So would personally befriending the unicorn and being allowed to personally harvest its horn. Although that may need to be balanced out with extra syrup of hellebore.”

By the end of her answer the classroom was staring, silent except for simmering cauldrons. Just as a nearby cauldron was about to explode Snape vanished the potion and sent them a death glare. That was enough to startle the class back into working.

Naturally, this went completely unnoticed by Holly.

“A lackluster answer. I expect a full written explanation on the effects of those alterations by next class.”

The rest of the class passed in a single-minded blur. In the end, her potion had the textbook perfect light silver vapor rising from it.

Snape took one glance at it. “Passable. Leave a vial behind, the rest is yours to do as you will. Perhaps it will prevent more foolishness.” Mentally cursing unreasonable professors, she took her bottled potion and left.

(After she left another cauldron nearly exploded before it was quickly vanished. Snape turned to face the class, “Perhaps knowing a single 3rd year finished sooner and with more success will be the motivation you need.”

The various partners made eye contact before throwing themselves back into work. Their pride was on the line now.)

Back in the Room Holly was looking at her vials of Draught of Peace. “I might need this just to deal with Snape. But I probably should save it for the next time a fight a basilisk or something. I could always brew more though…”

Holly adjusted with surprising ease after that. Every morning she’d steal a newspaper in the morning to track the ongoing ministry scandal. Things weren’t looking good for Fudge. The Rat and Sirius’s trial were set for the November 13th, less than a week away.

She already had a plan to get permission to go.

Dumbledore wouldn’t want her to let her go but a few words about “needing closure for her parents” and Dumbledore should cave in. To a certain extent it was true. Not that it was the main reason of course.

No, that was the Rat himself.

The Rat needed his memories of her parents in order to testify. After that? He wouldn’t need them in Azkaban. Which meant Holly was free to take them for herself. That traitor had no right to remember her parents when he was the reason she’d never known them. He’d remember their names and that he’d gotten the people he loved killed, but that was all.

Holly was rather looking forward to ripping his memories out.

Unfortunately, she had to wait almost full week for the trial. To distract herself Holly went to visit somewhere she’d never been before: Hogwarts library.

It’d be unfathomable to most, but she really hadn’t needed it. Tom had been an obsessive reader after all. Plus, she had quite the personal library between the Room, her buying habits, and the Potter Vaults and Manor. Hogwarts library was massive and broad while hers was more focused and advanced. Probably less child friendly too.

Holly hated the idea of only being able to borrow books. Thus, her brilliant idea: why not duplicate books from the library and add them to her collection? They’d be enchanted against it surely. And it was probably illegal. Neither of that was particularly important to her, so she got started.

She pushed the doors open and froze.

‘Oh. Tom’s memories didn’t do this place justice. I really should have come here sooner.’

She walked in and started drifting through the aisles in a daze.

Her amazement quickly wore off when she realized something. ‘They’ve got no book index. No keyword or title searching system. No auto retrieval. Hardly any organization at all beyond the subject sections. All the “dangerous” books are shut away.’

‘This is an amazing resource and they’re wasting it. f*cking. Wizards.’

(Unknown to Holly, Lily Evans once had the same thought. In her 7th year, after James gave her the trunk, she decided to do something about it. After several months she succeeded. She’d created a comprehensive set of library charms. It would’ve revolutionized magical libraries overnight.

Then she was thrown into the war and died without publishing it.)

Holly mechanically collected a stack of books on book enchantments and checked them out before she started cursing out loud. Back in the Room Holly obliterated several targets before settling in to read.

A few days later and she was ready to try it out.

She had a throwaway test book set out in front of her. One of Lockhart’s naturally. She’d found it in the trash at the end of last year and had been saving it for something like this.

With the front cover Holly tapped her wand against it. One muttered “revelio” later, she could see the various enchantments on it.

“Wait, only two enchantments on it? Damn you’re cheap Lockhart. That one’s… to keep his self-portrait working? And there’s the anti-duplication.”

A few spells later and she’d successfully removed the anti-duplication. She pointed her wand, “geminio” and an identical copy popped out. One scan later showed the copy still had the portrait longevity charm. She’d need to add a few runes to make it truly permanent but that was it.

“That was suspiciously easy. Probably because Lockhart’s a cheap fool. Somehow I doubt other books will be like that.

Her next test book was a worn Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 she’d found in the Room and didn’t bother to take. Again, a quick scan found the enchantments.

“Ok, that’s a preservation charm. That’s for water repellent. That’s… an anti-crease charm. And there’s the anti-duplication spell.” A few spells and half a minute later there was an identical copy.

“Is it really that easy? Either this is super illegal or wizards are painfully stupid.”

She asked the room for the most heavily enchanted, worst condition book she already owned. A second later there was a battered Most Ponte Potions in front of her. It’d obviously been soaking in the ambient magic of the Room for some time and was layered in enchantments and curses.

“Ok, if I can do this, I can do any book in that library.”

She carefully got to work. Each enchantment had a nasty curse attached that she did not want to set off. Several Blood Boiling, Flesh Eating, Organ Vomiting, and Brain Hemorrhaging curses later she successfully isolated and countered them.

“Now I only have to counter the anti-duplication and... got it!”

One geminio later there was a copy in front of her. It even still had the various preservation charms from the original.

“Is it really that easy? Seriously? Why doesn’t everyone do this? Sure, they’ll wear down faster, but a couple preservation runes fix that easily. Do they toss people in Azkaban for this or something?”

(What Holly didn’t realize is that isolating and breaking enchantments like she’d just done was considered beginner to intermediate level cursebreaking. Something that usually took training. Because of the difficulty involved there were only small fines to discourage the limited number of people capable of doing it.

Holly, in true Holly fashion, had only studied cursebreaking to take cursed books from the Room.)

An hour later Holly had two identical stacks of books. The originals, with their anti-duplication charm replaced, would be returned to the library. The copies, with added runes for longevity, would go into the Trunk library.

It had gotten her thinking. ‘If I can copy by books shouldn’t I make backups? I have a lot of books. Some of them are rare too. My Trunk has decent protections but if I lost it… that’d be devastating.’

She couldn’t duplicate the Trunk itself with everything in in. The space expansion charms alone would make it impossible. That meant creating backups of her books. She could put them into Potter Manor or her vaults for safekeeping. But before that she’d need to better secure her Trunk.

“Well, duplicating everything useful in the Hogwarts library and my Trunk library will take a while. Guess that goes onto the list. Probably before killing Adult Tom too. I mean, what are the odds he’ll come back while I’m still a student?”

(In less than 2 years Holly would look back and kick herself.)

Several days later Holly stumbled out of a Ministry Floo and brushed herself off.

‘Honestly, Wizards have been using Floos for centuries, how has nobody figured out making it clean yet? Is it so overlooked that it’s never occurred to them?’

Either way, Holly took her first look around the Ministry atrium and was not impressed. It was all black tile that somehow managed to be both minimalist and gaudy. In the middle there was a fountain of other races looking up in adoration at a witch and wizard.

‘You know, it really says a lot about their self-image they have a statue of themselves being worshiped by the very races they despise and ignore. Really stroking their egos there.’

Ignoring it, she let Snape guide her to the lifts. That was another weird thing.

Dumbledore had protested against her going to Sirius’s and Pettigrew’s trial more then she expected. He spouted all kinds of vague reasons: that she shouldn’t miss a school day; that it would be boring; that news reporters would harass her; that it may not be safe as some members of the Wizengamot were formerly “imperused” Death Eaters there (she thought that said a lot about how corrupt the Ministry was.)

Holly protested and eventually convinced him with her planned guilt trip of “I need closure with my parents’ deaths” while rapidly blinking to hold back (mostly) fake tears. Dumbledore conceded but required she’d have an Unfamiliarity Charm to seemingly look nondescript and a professor chaperone. She knew it really meant babysitter/guard but still agreed. It wouldn’t be that bad.

But for some reason Dumbledore chose Snape for the job.

Snape who hated her.

Snape who hated Sirius Black.

Snape who, she now knew from the Rat, was a (hopefully) former Death Eater himself.

Holly was seriously questioning Dumbledore’s judgment right about now.

Regardless, she let Snape guide her into the courtroom and took their seats. What followed destroyed any shreds of hope Holly might’ve had in the Ministry or wizarding society.

Sirius was dragged out and chained into a chair. He looked awful, gaunt and in rags, but with his spirt unbroken. The Minister started blustering, red faced and mostly incomprehensible.

Some amount of time later, they presented their evidence against Sirius. Namely that obviously he was guilty, so they didn’t need evidence. If she wasn’t horrified that brilliant argument was coming from the Minister of Magic himself, she would’ve laughed. The aristocrat jury (and wasn’t that a horrifying fact?) bickered and dissolved into infighting.

Eventually the defense had veritaserum administered and Sirius interrogated. When he was proven innocent there was more blustering until the Rat was dragged in.

Holly couldn’t focus on anything they said. She watched their lips more, not hearing a word. She was twitching in anticipation for it to be over. Eventually they lifted the Rat from the chair and started dragging him away.

It was then Holly struck.

She reached out for his mind, entered effortlessly, and started tearing out memories. Anything involving her parents and the Marauders. Any spells she didn’t know. Any classes from his later years at Hogwarts. Anything he knew about Death Eaters: names, personalities, fighting styles, home locations, safe houses, everything. Anything he knew about Adult Tom. Any mention of the prophecy. And much less importantly, how to become an animagus.

By the time she was done the Rat’s mind was Swiss cheese. His childhood was intact. So were the years he spent at the Weasley’s (she was not looking at that.) But nearly all that otherwise remained were his insecurities and knowing he betrayed those he loved.

With a final mental kick to the head, Holly left his mind.

Now in a dramatically better mood, Holly tossed several galleons into the fountain for St. Mungo’s as they left.

For the rest of the day she unknowingly had a vindictive smile and gleam in her eye.

Snape, upon seeing the Potter Brat's expression, panicked.

He knew that look from Lily. He’d seen her go to confront Avery 7th year and come back with that same expression of malicious glee. Avery, even after becoming a Death Eater, had completely avoided Lily.

To see that same look on the brat was… concerning.

It could be knowing Pettigrew was heading to Azkaban. But no, she had been twitchy until a certain moment while Pettigrew was being dragged away. They had both stopped moving for a second. After that, Pettigrew started screaming and the brat had that damned smile.

The brat had done something then. Interesting. He could not fathom what exactly, but it was certainly exceptionally malicious.

Good thing Albus was too distracted to notice.

He wouldn’t have approved.

While a political firestorm raged in Wizarding Britain Holly’s 3rd year continued almost normally. Or at least, her idea of almost normally. For anybody else it’d be exceptionally odd.

All her classes, barring potions, were exceptionally easy. Good review, but pathetically easy. The only hard part was hiding her suspiciously advanced skill level.

Potions was always the same as her first class with the 5th years. She always worked alone on whatever potion Snape chose to the best of her ability. All while he interrupted her about possible alterations and improvements.

She knew Snape was still trying to mess her up. Which meant it was the only class she put her full effort into it. And at the end, he’d always tell her to write up a paper on her alterations and take to her potion with her.

(Strangely they seeming to be mostly medical potions. Holly, knowing she may need them, decided to keep them in her bottomless bag for emergencies. There had already been a troll and basilisk in the school, who knew what could be next?)

As much as she despised Snape his classes were certainly the most interesting. Granted, it was because he constantly harassed her, but still, they were interesting. She thought that said something important about her but wasn’t sure what.

Outside of class she was busy as ever.

Every week Holly visited the library to checkout as many books as believably possible. Ms. Pince had been extremely suspicious when she’d returned her stack of books after only three days. Realizing her mistake, she restricted herself to borrowing roughly ten books a week. Taking ten every time would be suspicious. After all, if anybody could guess what she was doing it’d be the librarian.

It was slow going but she was working her way through the advanced potion books. It was restricting but necessary. Checking out books on NEWT level charms or defense would give her away. Potions was the only subject she wasn’t downplaying her skill in.

Those were the only books she took publicly.

Every evening Holly would stay in the library until it was closing. Once most people were gone, she would put on the Cloak, take a stack of books, and shove them in her bottomless backpack. Sometimes from the Restricted Section (deactivating the Anti-Trespassing runes on the entrance wasn’t hard), sometimes not. The Marauders Map was invaluable for avoiding people during her heists. A simple illusion made it appear no books were missing. Then she copied them twice (once for her Trunk and a backup) before going to sleep and put the originals back in the morning.

After engraving preservation runes to her copies they’d be no different then the original.

It was a rather efficient system. She was too busy to read her all of the new books now of course, but she could do that that later.

No, now she was focused going over the Rat’s memories.

It was… an experience watching her parents grow up. She was finally getting to know her parents but it only possible from another’s memories. She wasn’t she how to feel about that.

(After reviewing those memories and tearing up several times Holly decided to ignore them for now.)

For someone significantly older there was relatively little magic to learn from the Rat. Diary Tom was 17 years younger and had a greater grasp of magical theory and only slightly fewer known spells. The Rat had rarely paid attention in class too, so she couldn’t even learn from those lectures secondhand either.

Learning apparation early was convenient for her. He had some true fighting experience which was nearly as appreciated. The process of becoming an animagus seemed useful but she’d do that later. That was really the only useful magic he knew.

In contrast, his knowledge about Adult Tom, the Death Eaters, and the War, was invaluable.

She’d already sent an anonymous letter detailing locations of incriminating evidence against “imperused” Death Eaters to the wizard cops. It only implicated a few, but Holly smiled at the headline of them getting arrested. They were only henchmen, but without them Adult Tom’s support would be weaker, whenever he did return.

(Holly didn’t know it, but this string of arrests would secure Amelia Bones her position as the next Minister.)

(Also unknown was the new rampant paranoia between the free Death Eaters. To them, it seemed like one of them took a plea deal to expose the others. Any trust between them was shattered. They stopped getting together to drink and reminisce about “the good old days.” And so, when the Quidditch World Cup came a year later, none of them risked exposure with drunken muggle baiting.)

Reviewing the Rat’s memories of the war made something obvious: Dumbledore was a bad general. He had no master plan. No strategy whatsoever to defeat Adult Tom. The Order did little beside responding to Death Eater raids in progress, often too late at that. What kind of general is only reactive?

Between that and instructing the Order not to use lethal spells it was painfully clear. His intentions may be good, but clearly he wasn’t right for the role.

Adult Tom really did almost win the war. Would’ve won.

For the first time Holly started to understand the whole “Girl Who Lived” nonsense. The war was all but lost and seemingly a miracle occurred. Her killing Adult Tom was still nonsense of course, especially since he was still alive, but she understood why they were desperate to believe it.

The other effect of stealing the Rat’s memories was needing to mentally organize them for occlumency. She’d stolen almost a decades’ worth of memories; it’d take a while.

She had been slowly making progress using the Diadem to design her mindscape. She’d originally been trying to make it self-generating but realized that was a bad idea. The environment would've come from her subconscious and be unpredictable even to herself, thus impossible to set up defenses. Instead, she could create environments ahead of time and make them loop together endlessly.

There were 2 tricks she’d figured out.

The first was “preloading” only one section of her mindscape at a time, just like a video game only loading sections the player could see. With only one section it’d be impossible to break through into another section. If someone tried to break through, they’d look out into nothingness. After all, the other sections of her mindscape wouldn’t come into existence until they were needed.

The second was that her memories wouldn’t actually be hidden within the readied mindscape sections anybody could see. Instead, she’d have sections that only appeared with a passcode. Again, they’d be impossible to break into as they literally wouldn’t exist before her passcode called them into existence. She wasn’t sure what to make her passcodes yet but definitely nothing magic related. Having them in another language would be a good idea too.

The problem however was that, even with the Diadem, she was effectively designing several different mindscapes. And trying to make them loop together seamlessly. And disappear when not needed. And make them unfamiliar to whoever was trying to search her mind. And accommodate her ever expanding collection of stolen memories. All while making them difficult but not impossible to navigate.

Holly maaaay have underestimated how hard it was. Still, she’d set her mind. She’d finish her mindscape even if it took years.

What was unusual, at least by her standards, is that she was regularly writing to someone.

Someone other than the goblins that is.

A few days after Sirius was proven innocent, she got a letter from him. It was hesitant, with him telling her he was her godfather and staying at a mind trauma ward to recover from Azkaban.

Holly realized then things were rather unbalanced between them. After all, she knew him exceptionally well from the Rat’s memories while he knew nothing of her. If he asked anybody all they’d be able to say is that she was good at magic and a loner who disappeared constantly.

She took mercy on Sirius and offered to write weekly to get to know each other.

It was hard knowing she’d need to censor nearly everything. She kept things lighthearted and superficial instead. Told him she was top of their class and liked to read. That she’d been moved up to 5th year potions because Snape was a jerk.

Sirius meanwhile told her (heavily censored) stories about the Marauders she already knew. That they were pranksters. That her father always liked her mother even when she hated him. That Snape had hated them.

It was odd talking to someone. Even with it all being rather superficial. Talking about herself was a new experience, nobody ever cared before. Or maybe she hadn’t cared to talk to them.

She wasn’t sure what exactly she what she was looking for from it. Or if she was looking for anything at all.

Sirius would be a good ally for fighting against Adult Tom. He was a skilled duelist. Practicing with him would help in ways the Room couldn’t. He could have a seat on the Wizengamot and vote against Adult Tom’s supporters. He was stupidly rich, plenty capable of supporting their fight.

(He cared about her. She wouldn’t be alone anymore.)

However, she knew Sirius was loyal to Dumbledore. That if she told him what she knew he’d go straight to Dumbledore. Then there’d be questions.

If she wanted Sirius to help, she needed to get to know him. For him to trust her. More than he trusted Dumbledore.

But she had so many secrets. That she’d been abused by the Dursleys. Running away from them. Her mindreading and shapeshifting. Being a thief. Stealing memories from people. The Room. Her personal Trunk library. Any of her questionably legal books. Stealing Diary Tom’s and the Rat’s memories. Knowing about horcruxes. Killing the basilisk. Being a parselmouth. The Lockhart ordeal. Commissioning the horcrux hunt. Breaking the Trace. Duplicating Hogwarts library books. Hiding her true skill level.

Sirius rebelled against authority. He’d support some of it.

But the rest? She couldn’t trust him enough to tell him.

Which meant more superficial letters, pretending she didn’t know the man like she did, as she slowly earned his trust.

As Christmas break grew closer Holly was conflicted about staying. She needed to visit Gringotts for an update on the horcrux search. Swapping the backup copies of her books with new ones at Potter Manor would be nice as well. She’d get to talk to Flory there too.

At least, she was conflicted until she realized she could sneak out whenever she wanted via the secret tunnel to Honeydukes and apparate away. That made the decision to stay easy.

That Saturday she snuck to the witch statue, gave the password, and slid down into the tunnel. One long walk later she’d come to the trapdoor to Honeydukes basem*nt. Disillusioned and silenced, he never noticed her before she slipped out. After shifting her face slightly and transfiguring her clothes she apparated onto Gringotts steps.

Holly walked in and, after nodding to the clerk, was quickly led back into Gronuk’s office.

“Greetings Ms. Potter-Black, are you here for an update on your commissioned search?” At Holly’s nod he continued, “We are still working on the outer defenses of the cave. The muggle Riddle Manor was searched extensively but nothing was hidden within. At the nearby Gaunt property we found a horcrux and purified it.”

He pulled a heavy looking ring out and slid it towards her. “Do you recognize the symbol on the stone?”

She picked up the ring to look closer. The stone was a black prism, looking far too large for the small band. On one side was a triangle with a circle and line within. It looked vaguely familiar, but nothing came to mind.

“Nope.”

“That symbol was used by Grindelwald most recently, but it was used as the family crest of the Gaunt’s and the Peverell’s long before as well. However, over time it has instead become known as the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.” At her blank expression Gronuk continued, “The Tale of Three Brothers features them. While that is a wizard child’s tale the truth is that stone is an ancient, powerful and dangerous artifact.”

At that Holly looked up to see Gronuk looking… concerned? Wary maybe? Either way it was a strange and sobering sight. She quickly slid it back over to him.

“Good to know, if you could put it in my vault with the others, please. That’ll be all.”

‘With the Ring purified that makes four destroyed. If Adult Tom stuck to the plan that makes two more horcruxes and the egomaniac himself.’

One pitstop at Potter Manor and a bit of burglary later she was back in the castle, with no one the wiser.

Climbing out of the tunnel she was almost expecting to see someone waiting for her but nobody was. “I guess it is that easy. You'd think Wizards would have better security.”

When Holly read Tale of Three Brothers that night she desperately tried not to think about the stone. About how badly she’d like to meet her parents. About how she could potentially meet them now. Instead, she took Gronuk’s warning to heart and locked those feelings away along with all the other memories she repressed.

Holly woke Christmas morning to a massive pile of presents. It seemed Sirius was trying to make up for lost time. Nearly an hour of unwrapping later Holly took inventory of them all.

There was a shiny new broom, a pile of new books, pranking materials, far too much candy, and a scrapbook.

A scrapbook that had Holly had her staring at once she'd opened it. She slowly flipped through the photos of her parents, careful not to let any tears fall on them.

She’d known what they looked like for the Rat of course. But… there was something nice about having a tangible picture. A way for them to exist outside of her stolen memories.

Her own gift to Sirius felt lacking in comparison. She had a feeling he’d appreciate the sentiment though.

After break, if any of her roommates noticed the new pictures on her nightstand, they didn’t say anything.

(Sirius meanwhile stared at his gift before breaking into hysterical laughter. It lasted long enough that the healer ran in fearing a relapse only to find him smiling.

He smiled, happy tears in his eyes, as he looked at the small dog statue enchanted to continually chew the rat in its mouth.

“She really is you daughter Prongs.”)

Chapter 10: Year Three (V)

Chapter Text

After Christmas break life continued as normal, albeit with minor changes.

At some point, Holly wasn’t sure when, she and Granger started actually talking to each other. She wasn’t sure when or how it happened, only that one day she realized they were in the middle of a conversation about how clueless wizards could be.

They didn’t talk outside of class or study together. Didn’t do anything besides talk in class sometimes.

It… wasn’t unpleasant.

Granger wasn’t interrogating her or being annoying. She didn’t look annoyed when Holly beat her in practical lessons anymore. She was even helpful sometimes!

The more she thought about it the more it weirded her. It was in March when they were walking back in from care of magical creatures and Holly finally asked.

“Granger, what’s going on here? How come you don’t care if I beat you in class anymore?”

Granger stopped with a disbelieving expression. “Honestly Holly, for someone so smart you’re truly oblivious sometimes. We’re friends.”

As if Holly wasn’t already shocked, she continued. “I saw on the train ride that you’re hiding your skills, downplaying your talent. Even holding back you’re still beating me. I- it took me time to realize that I won’t always be the best, but that doesn’t make me bad at something. So, I still try my best even when you constantly do better.”

“I don’t know why but you do it but surely have a good reason.” Her expression softened, “And Holly, my name’s Hermione. We’re friends after all.”

With that Gra- no, Hermione, walked away leaving a dumbfounded Holly behind.

The political firestorm was still dominating the news months later. The scandal of Sirius being innocent and Fudge’s incompetence was a major story after all.

Of course, it helped that Holly had hired the goblins to persuade the newspaper to keep the scandal alive. It was fun watching her classmates slowly recognize how incompetent their leaders were. Maybe they’d grow cynical enough to demand change when they were older. She wasn’t getting her hopes up though, for now it was entertaining and she had piles of gold to spare.

Eventually her manufactured scandal got results: the minister was sacked and replaced by someone named Amelia Bones. She didn’t particularly think the new minister would be any better but according to Sirius she was competent.

(Apparently she was also an old flame of his which she'd rather not have known.)

Her letters with Sirius had become slightly more meaningful as well. Sirius understood now she wasn’t a prankster or sociable like her parents had been. Seemed fine with it even. He’d already known she was a metamorphmagus too. Even knowing that one comparatively small secret felt like a weight off her shoulders.

Hearing that, Holly decided to take a risk and tell him life at the Dursleys wasn’t great. When he started asking too many questions she changed the subject to officially becoming friends with Hermione. Thankfully it seemed to work.

Or at least, that’s what she thought.

A month before the end of the term Sirius dropped a metaphorical bomb on her: he offered to let her live with him.

Naturally, this caused Holly to panic.

While the rest of her potions class was panicking over their imminent OWLS she was worrying over her summer plans. Sirius was nice, he’d promised not to be overbearing and everything. She knew he’d try his best to care for her.

(And wasn’t that a weird feeling. She… thought she might like it? Maybe. She wasn’t going to rely on him of course. That’d be crazy.)

But Sirius didn’t know she’d run away. How living with him meant no more world tours or pickpocketing sprees. No more practicing magic on her own. No more plotting to kill Adult Tom. How it meant the loss of her complete freedom.

Some of those fears went away when Sirius said they could do whatever she wanted that summer. Even specifically said he could tutor her if she wanted.

With that her mind was made up: she wrote back Sirius agreeing to stay with him. His reply had teardrop stains and fireworks fired from it while opened. Oblivious to the entire great hall staring at her, she pocketed the letter with a smile.

Her exams, as expected, were pathetically easy. In transfiguration she transfigured her teapot into a tortoise with a gem encrusted shell. In charms her cheering charm was perfect, not too strong or weak. History of Magic was dreadfully boring but easy. Muggle studies was annoying because the exam was at least 50 years outdated. At least the potions written exam made her think a little.

The potions practical exam was… odd. The examiners were strangely interested in meeting her, several of them even shaking her hand. Brewing the requested Wit Sharpening potion was easy. She made an alteration with the ginger roots that had examiners looking oddly excited. When they came to talk to her afterwards, she thanked them and speed walked away.

The exam in defense was fun being an obstacle course. It was all going smoothly until the end with the boggart.

The trunk opened and suddenly Holly was staring at herself.

Boggart Holly was covered in blood and grime. She was stuck in the fetal position, her limbs bound in thick manacles with a magic inhibiting collar around her neck. Her hair was matted, her naked body clearly little more than a skeleton even beneath the filth. All her fingers were chopped off, leaving her hands bloody stumps.

Boggart Holly opened her eyes and Holly faltered. They were glazed over, filled with defeated resignation. The muscle around her emaciated jaw twitched and Holly knew, just knew, what she was about to say.

(That she was powerless to stop anything. That she’d failed and given up. That all her efforts were useless.)

Before boggart Holly could say anything, Holly shouted “Ridiculous!” and suddenly a cat was playing with boggart Holly’s exposed tongue while she blushed.

Holly laughed and turned away only to see a very concerned looking Professor Lupin staring at her.

‘sh*t! He’s going to tell Sirius! Gotta distract him quick!’

“I can cast a corporeal patronus if you’d count that for extra credit?”

Somehow, her pathetic attempt to change topics worked. Professor Lupin blinked twice before asking “You can?”

Jumping at the chance, she thought about complete freedom and robbing fools blind. One incantation later and there was a translucent raven perched on her shoulder. She looked to see a visibly shocked Professor Lupin staring at her patronus in disbelief.

Before he could overcome his shock, she sprinted away yelling “thanks for the extra credit!”

A week later and she was staring at her exam results while riding the train back. Her potions score wasn’t back yet, but she’d aced all her other exams, getting above 100% in several. Which really made no sense whatsoever but seemed like typical wizard nonsense. Pointing that fact out to Hermione had them comparing scores.

“Honestly Holly, I think you set a record. That’s not even mentioning how you took an O.W.L. as a 3rd year! What was it like?”

She shrugged, “I mean, I kinda just did the exam and brewed the potion? It made me think a bit more than the other exams.”

For some reason that had Hermione staring before she started shaking her head. “Only you Holly, only you.”

Back at Kings Cross, Hermione ran off to her parents after promising to write. Holly watched until she heard someone clearing their throat and she turned around.

Sirius, looking far healthier than before, was waiting with a massive smile across his face.

“Hey Prongslet, nice to finally see you again”

He suddenly wrapped her into a tight hug and-

‘Oh. So this is what that feels like.’

She slowly wrapped her arms around Sirius and buried her face into her chest. If her eyes started watering it was because his shirt was dusty. Very dusty.

Eventually they pulled away, both of them wiping their eyes.

“Your shirt is dusty.”

“I think a bug flew into my eyes, what a terrible time for that.”

They smiled at each other before Sirius threw an arm over her shoulder and they started walking out together. After a second her blissfully happy moment was interrupted by him dropping another metaphorical bomb on her.

“Unfortunately, there’s the bad news: I have to drop you off at the Dursleys’ for two weeks.” Before she could argue, he continued. “Trust me, I hate it too. But you staying there, even for only two weeks, renews the protections Lily gave you.”

“Protections?”

“Blood wards. It’s why you grew up there. So long as you consider that house with your mother’s blood home you’re safe there. That’s why it wouldn’t be renewed with me even though I blood adopted you. Or so Dumbledore says.”

As they got into a taxi Holly was lost in thought, oblivious to Sirius inwardly panicking at her apparent silent treatment.

There was a lot to consider. It certainly explained why she was raised there instead of with any wizarding family.

Holly had never thought about how she ended up at the Dursleys but in hindsight it was obvious. Of course it was Dumbledore. Who else had enough influence and didn’t despise normal people?

But that meant he knowingly left her with a hateful family. The marauders all knew her mother was on bad terms with Petunia. Dumbledore certainly knew. Maybe he didn’t know they were abusive, but he certainly should’ve at least checked in annually. Hell, he never even noticed she’d run away.

At least she’d escaped from them.

Which was a whole other issue: the blood wards were gone. Which meant Sirius dropping her off at the Dursleys was pointless. But she couldn’t exactly tell Sirius that without saying she ran away. Which meant, sadly, she’d have to play along.

Hopefully he wouldn’t try to talk to the Dursleys. Or at least, not before Holly altered their memories.

When their cab stopped in front of number 4 Privet drive, they got out, Sirius looking rather nervous.

“I know you’d rather not be here but-“

“It’s fine Sirius. I’ll seeya in two weeks at your place.”

One bone crushing hug and apparation later Holly was left alone on the sidewalk.

Holly quickly broke in (she had forgotten how loud Petunia could screech) and modified the Dursleys' memories to make it seem as if she never ran away. After stealing Petunia’s jewelry again, she walked out, a wide smile on her face.

(She knew she’d be back again one day. Petunia still had memories about her mother and grandparents after all. One day she’d take them for herself, along with all the Dursleys memories of her, leaving them forever questioning their own minds.

Sadly, she couldn’t do that until she was of age. After that all bets were off.)

Holly clapped her hands together and let herself smile wide. “Two full weeks of complete freedom. Time to make the most of it.”

Chapter 11: Summer 1994

Chapter Text

Nick Fury, junior S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, was reading an intelligence report, trying and failing not to be impressed.

In the last 14 days there had been 14 high profile robberies concentrated around London. One every day. Each of them targeting various wealthy individuals implicated in scandals.

Every one of them was a complete mystery. No clear points of entry, no witnesses, no security alarms tripped, nothing. Some of them had even been while the owners were home, but they’d heard nothing.

The only evidence was safes left hanging open and empty, bank accounts hacked, assorted valuables missing, and (strangely enough) several personal libraries gone. Simply vanished into thin air.

It was like the burglar was a ghost.

Nick’s first thought was insurance fraud but it didn’t fit. They would’ve had to coordinate it ahead of time, and even then, they couldn’t make their valuables vanish without a trace.

After the first week the newspapers were calling them “The Phantom Thief.” Rather theatrical but somehow accurate.

Thankfully he wasn’t the agent in charge of tracking them down. That job seemed doomed to failure.

But he was interested. A master thief could make a good S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

All the while he had the strangest feeling. That, somehow, he was certain he’d meet them one day. He didn’t understand it but he knew to trust his gut.

Meanwhile, Holly was walking down a London sidewalk reading a newspaper with a smile.

‘The Phantom Thief’ hmm, not bad. I mean it’s not great but it could be worse I guess. Maybe next year I could leave a calling card? Something to consider.’

She walked up the steps and knocked on the door of Sirius’s flat, letting herself in when she heard a yell.

The inside looked exactly like she expected. That is, like a bachelor pad of someone who’d only lived there a few months. Mostly empty with mismatched furniture and scattered takeout boxes. That wasn’t concerning.

What was concerning was an unusually serious looking Sirius at the table reading the newspaper. The same newspaper detailing the exploits of The Phantom Thief.

Suddenly nervous, she went with the simplest way to break the tension. “Well you’re looking Sirius today.”

Sirius smiled but didn’t laugh.

‘Oh god oh f*ck, he knows.’

“So I decided to drop in and check on you at the Dursley's a few days ago. Only, you weren’t there. Hadn’t been there in some time. Although your relatives seem to believe you have been for some reason.”

Oh no. “That’s strange.”

“Very strange” he agreed, “they were rather confused about where you were. Although, what Petunia was quite clear about was blaming you for her missing jewelry.”

“You know most wizards never read the muggle news? Funny story, I was walking around London worried out of my mind about you when I saw the paper. And I thought ‘that couldn’t possibly have anything to do with Holly, could it?’ So I went to check and sure enough, your scent was there.”

Here it is. He was going to throw her out and expose her. Why was she so stupid to believe he’d care about her?

“Now I’m wondering how you didn’t get caught doing underage magic because, last I checked, you’re only 13.”

She was caught. No point in playing dumb. She still couldn’t outright admit to it though, that’d be evidence against her in court.

“Well, hypothetically, I would have broken the Trace first. Hypothetically, I would also have practiced the necessary charms and wandless casting.” At his shocked expression she extended her hand and summoned his newspaper to it. She tossed it back before continuing.

“Hypothetically, I would shift my appearance beforehand and be extremely careful not to leave any evidence behind. Hypothetically, I would also only steal from those I personally confirmed were deserving of being robbed.”

“Hypothetically,” a serious looking Sirius replied.

“Of course,” doing her best "I’m an innocent little girl and model student" expression, eyes wide and blinking rapidly, hands clasped in front of her. It must have been good because Sirius’s lip twitched and he started laughing.

And Holly had no idea how to handle that.

“Merlin, Hogwarts is lucky you didn’t go Slytherin. You would’ve eaten those poor kids alive.” His expression sobered again, “I can’t say that it’s a good idea or that I like it but I’m glad you’re being careful. Hardly any wizards read muggle news, so I doubt most will ever hear about it. Those who do will assume it’s a muggle thief. And I won’t be telling anyone otherwise.”

His serious face suddenly flipped into excitement. “And wandless magic at your age! It’s incredible! I knew you were good from Minnie and Remus, but they didn’t mention anything about that! I-”

“I’d like to keep that a secret for now, just like being a metamorphmagus. Better to be underestimated.”

Sirius paused, looking worried “Ya know, you could give an old boss of mine competition for the most paranoid person I’ve met. Is there anything I should know?”

Now there was a good question.

‘Should I tell him something? He agreed not to tell anyone I’m a thief, that’s worth something. Obviously not a major secret, but maybe a minor one? Something that won’t lead him to discover any other secrets. Nothing dangerous I’ve done either. Something he can sympathize with.’

Well, there was a clear choice.

Holly broke eye contact to look at the floor before she answered. It felt easier talking without seeing his expression. “I ran away and lived in my mum’s old Trunk for a while. Then I stayed at Potter manor last summer.”

There was complete silence for a moment before suddenly she was being hugged.

“I’m never going to kick you out. I love you kid.”

They stayed like that for a while, Holly’s face buried into his chest. Eventually they broke away, both trying and failing to subtly wipe their eyes.

“Your bachelor pad is dusty.”

“Mhm, complete mess. Tons of dust in the air.”

Only then Holly had a Brilliant Idea: they didn’t have to stay here! She liked Sirius but his bachelor pad was, well, a bachelor pad. Not exactly ideal.

“You know, I had Potter Manor cleaned up. No dust there. Plenty of space too, you could teach me some spells and we could practice dueling.”

Then it was Sirius' turn to look floored. She knew it’d be tough for him to return. He’d lived there before with her father after all, the place was probably bittersweet for him.

Eventually he managed to choke out, “I… I think I’d like that.”

One apparation later and Holly was watching Sirius wander the halls of Potter Manor in a daze. He’d greeted Flory like an old friend, shoveling the offered biscuits into his mouth. Occasionally he’d point out various places, where they’d pulled pranks or liked to relax.

When they got to the dueling room he whipped out his wand with a co*cky smile. “Show me what you’ve got Prongslet!”

Holly, after a brief second of debate, decided to take him seriously. Sirius was a former auror, this was a great chance to learn from an expert. He could give her proper feedback. Plus, he already knew she was downplaying her skill at school.

Besides, now that she thought about it she’d never dueled anyone other than Diary Tom. Which, well, she wasn’t sure what that said about her. The fact was she didn’t have a good measure of her skill level.

She flicked her wand into her hand and immediately began silently shooting minor jinxes at Sirius. His co*cky smile dropped and he focused on defending himself before deciding to seriously fight back.

Suddenly she was at the end of his barrage, barely ducking spells. He pressed his advantage, forcing her back. She ducked a stinging hex, sidestepped a tripping jinx, and she fired back a stunner but was hit by another spell that made her hang upside down.

Sirius conjured a cushion before unceremoniously dropping her. Once she sat up he began, “That was pretty good, better than I’d expect from someone your age. You’re great at dodging and have good aim. But I’m guessing you’ve never practiced with someone?” At her nod he continued, “The spells you chose don’t let the wand movements flow together smoothly. Duelists use a technique called ‘spell chaining’ to string together spells so they can cast faster.”

“Your other weakness is that you always dodge.” At her confused expression he explained, “obviously you don’t want to get hit. But always dodging makes you predictable and struggle to fire back. That’s why shielding or countering can be better: they let you retaliate sooner.”

‘That… makes a surprising amount of sense. More than I’m used to from wizards. Or maybe it shouldn’t be surprising that the one thing wizards seem sensible about is how to fight each other.’ Shaking off her cynical thoughts she raised her wand again.

“Want to go again?”

Sirius, the mature adult that he was, sent a farting jinx at her.

They fell into a domestic routine together with shocking ease after that.

Every morning Holly woke up early and ate whatever delicious meal Flory provided. After that she’d have a couple quiet hours to read (she sympathized heavily with Gandalf trying to destroy The One Ring) or plot while Sirius was still asleep. Things tended to get louder once he was awake.

Some days were spent binging classic movies at Sirius’s flat. The Princess Bride had Sirius crying his eyes out as she pretended not to notice. Back to the Future made Holly desperately hope wizards were incapable of time travel. Both of them loved Star Wars, with Sirius looking a bit too interested at the idea of Luke fighting his father.

Holly wasn’t going to analyze that. She was too busy thinking of a way to mimic force choking someone.

Other days were spent out and about in either normal or magical Britain. Sirius was clearly loving his freedom and trying to make up for lost time. He rushed from place to place, buying anything that caught their attention. After seeing posters for the DOOM game he immediately bought it to play together. It was fun and Holly was already creating a new mindscape section based on it.

Sirius made the mistake of pranking her once. During lunch one day she suddenly sprouted fur and whiskers. She silently set her glass down and slowly turned towards a laughing Sirius.

His laughter died quickly and changed to a nervous smile when he saw her death glare. With a nervous laugh he asked, “has anyone ever told you you look just like Lily when you’re angry?”

After a few seconds of strained silence he gave her the antidote and promised no more pranks.

Their duels got longer and longer as Holly continued to improve. She still couldn’t beat Sirius when he was serious, probably not even if she started using the really nasty curses he didn’t know she knew. But she was getting better. According to him she had potential to be the best at Hogwarts. She wasn’t sure how good that really was but the praise was nice.

(In the back of her mind she knew dueling wasn’t nearly that important to practice. It wouldn’t hurt to know of course. But it had a glaring weakness: it was strong at close range, but any longer than roughly 40 feet and spells became too easy to dodge. A gun would be more effective in most fights. Especially if they don’t see you first.

Wizards may be offended by the idea of shooting someone in the back but to her it was common sense. No point in being “honorable” with lives at risk. She’d totally pull an Indiana Jones and shoot a Death Eater in a duel.)

She got her potions OWL results mid July and was rather happy seeing her above perfect score. Seemed like Snape couldn’t find any excuse to fail her. Sirius saw her results, let out a high pitched squeal, and gave her a bone crushing hug while saying how proud of her mum and dad would be. Sirius must’ve been wearing a dusty shirt again because her eyes started watering.

Sirius’s face when she pulled out the Marauder's Map was priceless. Before he could start reminiscing she mentioned her brilliant idea: why not make a new and improved version? Sirius, no matter how much he denied it later, squealed in delight hearing that.

Working together on a new and improved map was interesting. She would need to be at Hogwarts to finish it but it was a good start. Seeing how complicated it was put in perspective just how impressive a feat the original map really was.

Of course, the fact Sirius kept distracting her with stories of his school days made it better.

When her birthday came around Sirius nearly drowned her in gifts. Mostly books again (primarily focused on potions for some reason), all of which were significantly more advanced this year. That wasn’t surprising.

What was surprising was Hermione sending her a book on warding. She already owned it but still, the gesture was kind. Holly mentally made sure to figure out Hermione’s birthday and return the favor.

Towards the end of the summer she started getting weird headaches from her scar. It was concerning but Holly didn’t risk telling Sirius about it. She’d already purified 4 horcruxes, if Adult Tom had stuck to his teenage plan he’d have 2 more and his wraithlike main soul.

(Speaking of which, Holly needed to visit Gringotts alone but Sirius was hard to slip away from. She’d have to sneak out while at Hogwarts.)

(She thought it said something that it was easier to escape from a supposedly impenetrable wizard castle than away from a single watchful guardian.)

A week before the term started Sirius dragged her out to the Quidditch World Cup. Holly wasn’t sure what to think of the campsite other than that it was packed with wizard nonsense. And that wizard tents were awesome.

They made their way to what seemed to be the V.I.P. section and settled in. For some reason the Weasleys were there, alongside what seemed to be bureaucrats and the wealthy. Sirius had a brief confrontation with a pretentious looking blond guy before he settled in to make conversation with the others. She zoned out, only vaguely hearing them talk about how some bureaucrat was out sick.

What did catch her attention was when dozens of women ran out onto the field and started dancing. She ignored the pressure against her occlumency barriers and stood up to get a better view.

They all had silvery blond hair and were devastatingly beautiful. Inhumanly beautiful.

‘Must be Veela then. Impossibly beautiful women with an allure that attracts people who are… oh. Oh. Well sh*t.’

Holly had been in enough heads to recognize what attraction felt like. She skipped over denial and went straight to panicking.

She abruptly sat down, thankful Sirius was still too distracted by the veela to notice.

‘Well Holly, seems like you’re attracted to women too. Does this change anything?’ She thought about it for a moment. It… really didn’t change anything did it? She already didn’t care what anyone thought of her. If nobody approved she wouldn’t care in the slightest. Well, except Sirius but she had her own doubts about him being completely straight. Hermione mattered a bit too but Holly doubted she’d care.

‘Hmm, guess I panicked for no reason then.’

The rest of the game passed quickly with Holly hardly paying attention. As they walked back to their tent Sirius was still raving about the game. It wasn’t until they were back on the tent he remembered to ask what she thought.

“That was the first quidditch game I’ve ever watched.” She shrugged, “I don’t see what the excitement is about. Anyway, goodnight Sirius.”

Behind her Sirius stood silently for several minutes wondering how she could be so indifferent to quidditch. He loved her but there were some things he’d never understand.

Chapter 12: Year Four

Chapter Text

Holly was standing on the train platform, trying and failing to pry herself out of Sirius’s hug while he sniffled into her hair.

“-and you’ve got the mirror, right?”

“Sirius, I’m going to be fine, stop crying.”

“How dare you accuse me of crying? Can’t you tell it’s raining? Terrible day for it.” Her words must’ve gotten through though because he let her go and crouched down so they were eye to eye. “Now this should be an interesting year for you. Lemme know if any boys mess with you so I can curse them. And remember: don’t do anything I would do. Got it?”

Thinking about how even Sirius hadn’t done anything as crazy as she already had made it easy to agree.

Speaking of boys, she looked down at her shoes to make getting the words out easier, “um Sirius, it’s uh, kinda not only boys you should be worried about.”

Sirius didn’t hesitate before responding. “Well tell me and I’ll curse them all the same. Nobody but the best for you Prongslet.”

And just like that, suddenly it was raining on her too. She hugged Sirius again before wandlessly clearing her face and boarding the train.

Eventually Holly managed to find Hermione sitting in a compartment and let herself in. After placing a repelling compulsion on the door she settled in, taking out a book to read.

“Holly! How was your break?”

“Pretty good. Practiced dueling with Sirius, went to World Cup, and veela made me realize I'm a bit gay.”

After several seconds of silence Holly looked up from her book to see Hermione attempting to process everything. Seems like she overwhelmed her. Or maybe she was about to get interrogated? Either way, she waited for Hermione to get her thoughts together.

After several more seconds of silence she finally spoke up, “I thought it was illegal to do magic outside of school while we’re still underaged. Shouldn’t the Trace detect it?”

“The Trace is intentionally designed to be racist Hermione. Since it can’t detect who cast spells it functionally only applies to muggleborns and some halfbloods.” At her furious expression Holly decided to trust her with a secret (while maintaining plausible deniability of course.) “Also, hypothetically, I may have figured out how to break the Trace on myself. Hypothetically, would you want yours broken too?”

Hermione looked dumbfounded for a second before her lips twitched in amusem*nt. “Hypothetically yes, I’d like that. Anyway, did you hear about those robberies?”

Thankfully Holly was mentally prepared enough to say something noncommittal to keep Hermione talking and avoid suspicion. They didn’t keep talking for long after that, instead reading their books in a pleasant silence.

After getting off the train and their carriage (still pulled by winged, skeletal horses for some inexplicable reason) Hermione grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”

“I always skip the feasts to eat in the kitchen instead. They’re annoying and they never announce anything important. Although this year Sirius said they’re bringing back the Triwizard Tournament.” She didn’t think it mattered much but by Hermione’s expression she disagreed. “Come on, I’ll tell you about it in the kitchens.”

After introducing Hermione to the kitchen elves (and preemptively stopping her angry moral outburst with a whispered “research first, righteous anger later”) they stuffed themselves while Holly slowly answered Hermione’s questions.

“The triwizard tournament is going to be here this year but who cares? Only idiots would enter into a deadly tournament. I’ve got better things to do this year.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out the partially completed updated Map. She spread it out on the table between them and watched as Hermione recognized what she was looking at.

“This is what I’ll be focusing on. You want to help?” It took Hermione a few seconds to process her words but once she did her hair was bouncing as she enthusiastically nodded. And just like that, Holly knew her year was off to a good start.

Unfortunately, she still had classes to go to.

Fortunately, she was actually interested in what was being taught for once.

In Herbology the plants were apparently going to be considerably more dangerous this year. Oh joy, what fun. She wasn’t Neville Longbottom, Herbology wasn’t interesting to her other than potentially how useful they could be. Or knowing which plants may kill her.

What did have her perking up was when Professor Sprout mentioned how some useful plants could be found found in the Forbidden Forest. She hadn’t gotten to explore it yet after all. She knew that'd be changing sometime soon.

In Care of Magical Creatures Hagrid introduced monstrosities that had the entire class looking wary. Hagrid was entirely too enthusiastic as he explained he had no idea what they ate and they’d need to find out.

She made eye contact with Hermione as both of them understood what that meant: Hagrid had created a dangerous new hybrid species and decided it’d make good practical lessons for students. It was a rather blatant reminder that the kind half giant had inherited the seemingly genetic cluelessness of wizards.

Muggle Studies was notable for hopelessly useless it was: apparently they’d spend the entire year talking about nonmagical transportation methods.

Fascinating.

Charms and Transfiguration were boring as hell. She knew all the theory already. Could already do the whole year’s material silently. Maybe wandlessly too if she practiced. That’d be interesting to try when she was alone later.

At least potions made her think. Snape was as obnoxious as ever. He questioned her until nobody besides her could answer. Then kept going. By the time he finally started his lecture on everlasting elixirs the other students were sending her odd looks.

It was unpleasant, which made it reassuringly normal.

Defense Against the Dark Arts however was a different story entirely. The new Defense professor, “Mad Eye” Moody was an grizzled older man who seemed to have a rather obvious case of post traumatic stress disorder. Which, while he was clearly an expert, he wasn't suited to be a teacher.

It seemed wizards had no concept of mental health other than “madness” because he clearly wasn’t getting treatment. For as annoying as he was she pitied the man.

At least his classes were informative, albeit unnerving.

When he explained that they'd be covering the Unforgivables she had to fake wariness to cover her interest. She’d been waiting to research more before trying them out properly. This was the perfect chance to learn about them in a controlled setting.

She was probably the only one excited about hearing how they’d get to experience the Imperious Curse. It was invaluable since she couldn’t exactly cast it on herself. Asking Sirius would result in an exceptionally awkward conversation. And while she tentatively trusted Hermione she doubted she’d be willing.

Her excitement faded when she saw the curses demonstrated firsthand.

Watching that spider dance under the Imperious was haunting. Its twitches under the Cruciatus were horrifying. And the Killing Curse… she wasn’t how to feel about it.

She knew that the exact method of killing someone wasn’t particularly important, barring unnecessary cruelty of course. The Killing Curse was efficient. An instant and painless death. Rather merciful considering how horrifying other curses could be. She’d been planning on killing Adult Tom and the Death Eaters for over a year now.

Practicing the Killing Curse had seemed logical.

But seeing that burst of green brought a sense of familiarity. Recognition of that distinctly malevolent green.

(A shade of green uncomfortably close enough to her eyes that she subconsciously darkened them slightly.)

The barest hint of a memory. Of screaming and a flash of green light.

She hadn’t know exactly how her parents died before. It… complicated her feelings about using the spell.

Hermione, sensing her mood, offered to eat lunch together in the kitchens and work on their Map. After a couple hours she was feeling back to normal and promised herself to return the favor.

The rest of the week continued without much excitement. Snape was obnoxious, 1st years were annoying, Sirius complained about missing her, professor Moody mentally unstable, her mindscape development was slowly progressing, and Hermione her constant companion in class.

She still snuck out to spent time alone in the Room of course, but was considering showing it to Hermione. She would love the Room. They’d be able to practice together more efficiently than alone.

As for telling Hermione about her other secrets? She was considering sharing minor ones, like being a shapeshifter or her Trunk library. But for the major secrets? She’d be keeping those to herself barring exceptional circ*mstances. Hermione would want her to get help or ask how she knew everything and then there’d be questions.

Plus Hermione didn’t know occlumency.

Oh wait, she could teach Hermione. She really should do that.

It was the second week when Holly was watching professor Moody call students up to try resisting the Imperious Curse. Only Hermione was able to even slightly resist it before giving in a half second later. Everyone else was dancing or singing as commanded. Finally it was her turn and she walked forward, fully raising her occlumency barriers.

Holding his wand like an orchestra conductor, he pointed it at her and with a spoken “imperio” a false sense of tranquility touched against her mind.

It felt like a pleasant embrace trying to encircle her mind. She knew that if she lowered her mental barriers she could let the curse take hold like a comforting hug. But this wasn’t Sirius hugging her. It was a mental unstable professor trying to make a fool of her.

With that pushed away the warm fuzzy feelings and raised a single eyebrow. “Is that really the best you’ve got?”

Professor Moody took a second to get over his shock before turning to the stunned class. “See that? Potter fought it off! Now here’s someone with force of will! Very impressive.”

She walked back to her seat, ignoring how the entire class was still staring at her. Maybe throwing off the curse entirely was too much and she should’ve downplayed it?

‘sh*t, I probably just gave away the fact I know occlumency too. That’s not good. Hopefully I’m old enough now that it’s not too suspicious.’

Others got called up but nobody else managed to visibly fight it. Was it really that tough? Or was occlumency that helpful? Whatever the case, it seemed she was the outlier.

After class Holly handed over several books on occlumency to Hermione. “Here, those go over how to defend your mind. If you learn it well I might just show you something cool.”

Hermione meanwhile was too distracted staring longingly at the stack of books.

“Oi, earth to Hermione.” She snapped her fingers several times before Hermione’s head snapped up and glared at her. “Learn to defend your mind and I’ll show you where I hangout.”

As expected, Hermione responded to being challenged. Unfortunately, she didn’t take the bait. “Oh? Is the personal hideout of the great Holly Potter really so valuable?”

Holly leaned in to whisper into her ear, “I’ll show you my personal library.” If the full body shudder was an indication then that was motivation enough.

She leaned back to see Hermione staring at the occlumency books again. “I’ll give you a few weeks to learn before I check your progress. Sound good?” And just like that their agreement was made.

Several weeks later Holly was sitting in the great hall, slowly playing with her food she was too nervous to eat. It was an odd feeling. She didn’t like it.

Today was Hermione’s birthday. She’d realized it a few days ago after accidently hearing Hermione thinking about it and panicked. She knew she owed Hermione a gift since she’d gotten one from Hermione before.

But how was that supposed to work? She'd asked Sirius but he was no help, only telling her to "get her something meaningful." She internally panicked more before finally snucking out to Diagon Alley to buy Hermione something.

After much debate she’d bought a few interesting books (making copies for herself of course) and plenty of school supplies. It seemed like something Hermione would appreciate.

The night before she’d snuck into Gryffindor tower and left the gifts by Hermione's bed. Now she was waiting for Hermione to come down for breakfast and see if she’d messed up somehow.

She was pulled out of her worrying when she was suddenly tackle hugged by a blur of curly hair.

Hermione was talking incomprehensibly fast but Holly understood the general idea. She cut her babbling off by sticking a hand over her mouth and making eye contact.

“You’re welcome. Happy birthday Hermione.”

With another crushing hug Hermione left in a hurry, probably to read her new books.

Holly quickly finished her breakfast, oblivious to the majority of the schools shock at the spectacle.

Holly slowly recognized over the next several weeks that Hermione must have appreciated her birthday presents more than she’d anticipated. Hermione had redoubled her efforts on helping finish the new Map and learning occlumency.

She’d been shocked when Hermione suggested breaking into the anchorstone room of Hogwarts. She’d known they’d need to to finish their map but had been expecting Hermione to resist. Only instead she had been the one to suggest it.

This newly dedicated Hermione seemed freer, more attached to her than to authority.

It was a tad unnerving.

Not that she’d ever tell Hermione that. Her newfound loyalty meant she’d be less likely to ask awkward questions Holly wasn’t ready to answer yet. But that didn’t make it any less unnerving.

Together they snuck into Hogwarts's anchorstone room and stared in awe.

The anchorstones of Hogwarts were a masterpiece. Each massive block of quartz was a dozen feet tall, arranged in a stone circle the size of Stonehenge. Every inch of them was covered in glowing runes, all undoubtedly carved by the Hogwarts founders themselves.

This, she knew, was what made Hogwarts one of the most magically powerful buildings in the world. The amount of raw magic they harnessed from the ley line convergence running underneath was insane.

The Hogwarts founders might’ve been pompous (and completely insane in Slytherin's case) but there was no denying they were brilliant. It was their anchorstones that kept Hogwarts standing and in good condition even a millennia later.

By unspoken agreement they both silently examined the room, desperately wishing they had a camera. Eventually they found the sections for future additions and chiseled the required runes in for their map.

With the raw data provided by the anchorstones all they’d need to do was properly interpret it.

It took several weeks of painstaking effort but finally their Map (Holly wanted to name it either Big Brother or Sauron’s Eye. Hermione wanted to call it Hogwarts Integrated Security System, or H.I.S.S., and was offended when Holly laughed at her suggestion) was working.

Names were color-coded for professors and by student’s houses. They could sort by year level, search for a specific name, and even see where someone had been for the past day. Learning from the Rat debacle, there were symbols labeling anyone as animagi if they ever transformed on Hogwarts grounds. For extra security there was even an alert every time one of the secret passages were used.

Privately, Holly thought wizards should be embarrassed their Map-which only took a couple months effort to make-was better security than anything Hogwarts had ever seen.

Together they watched the icons of people and ghosts drift through the halls. After a bit they saw two icons go into a broom closet together and quickly folded away the Map.

Hermione’s progress with occlumency was impressive too. Her mental barriers were still exceptionally weak of course, but they’d be enough to detect someone trying to read her mind.

They were lounged out in an abandoned classroom as Holly tested Hermione’s occlumency progress. It was right after she deemed Hermione’s barriers sufficient the girl finally spoke up.

“How are you using legitimacy without eye contact Holly? All of those books said you need it to get anything more than surface thoughts.”

“I wouldn’t pay much attention to most of the supposed restrictions they say exist in magic. Magic is intent made manifest, most wizards just have too many preconceived beliefs to believe anything new can work.”

“Like how they say wandless magic is impossible for all but the most powerful.” She raised an open palm and made a ball of light appear in her palm with only a thought. She looked over to see Hermione’s shocked face illuminated.

“They haven't realized they’re surrounded by masters of wandless magic: house elves. But since they see house elves as unworthy of their attention they’re overlooked. All I did was ask a friendly elf for some lessons.”

“That’s why I don’t respect the so called ‘Wizarding World’ in general. The majority care more about someone's pedigree then having common sense. Between that, the inbreeding, their useless government, and regular civil wars, it's no surprise their society is in decline.”

She finished her rant to see Hermione looking completely overwhelmed. Which, well, wasn’t exactly surprising. In hindsight her impromptu monologue sounded suspiciously like a revolutionaries' recruitment speech.

Before Hermione could ask any awkward questions about potential future revolutions she decided to redirect the conversation.

She pulled out her shrunken Trunk and unshrunk it. “As promised: my library.” She lifted the lid to expose the ladder and gestured for Hermione to go first.

The rest of her night was spent watching a dazed Hermione explore the countless rows of bookshelves. She knew exactly when Hermione discovered the catalog and searching system from her shriek of excitement.

The next day when Holly showed Hermione the Room she had to forcefully drag Hermione out to go sleep. Thankfully the girl was too exhausted to be fully aware and question how Holly dumped her onto her own bed in Gryffindor Tower.

After dropping off Hermione she made a quick stop in the 5th year boys room to return the Marauder's Map. She left it, along with a stack of galleons and a note on the twins nightstand, leaving before she could get caught.

(In the morning the twins shared identical looks of shock upon seeing their missing map returned along with more money than they’d ever owned. Their shock only grew as they read the note.

Dear Twins,

I wasn’t expecting to need the Map for that long so here’s some money to make up for it.

I noticed your business plans last year and I’m interested in investing in due time.

Don’t waste your time looking for me, I’ll contact you.

(No pranks to find me either or else you’ll learn why Padfoot himself is afraid to.)

Cheers,

A Marauder's’ Child

“I think I’m in love Forge”

“Me too Gred, me too.”)

In hindsight, Holly realized waiting to sneak out to visit Gringotts until after their Map was done was pretty stupid. At least Hermione wouldn’t say anything.

Probably.

Either way, she snuck out to Hogsmeade, shifted her appearance a bit, and apparated away to Gringotts.

Once she was seated in Gronuk’s office he wasted no time on small talk.

“Miss Potter-Black, I presume you’re here for an update on your commissioned search?” At her assent he continued, “we managed to breach the defenses of the cave this summer. Inside was a duplicate of Slytherin’s Locket with this note inside.”

“R.A.B.?”

“Regulas Arturias Black, your godfathers’ late brother. He was a known death eater who disappeared during the war.”

‘Well, that certainly complicates things. There’s no way to know whether he managed to destroy it or not. Which means I have to keep looking. I could ask the goblins to search for it but then Sirius would find out and things could get messy. Although… Sirius would probably know where to start looking.’

‘Should I ask him? Sirius deserves to know about his brother. He'd want to know. But there’s no way I can tell him without explaining about the horcruxes and stealing Diary Tom’s memories. And probably the basilisk too. He’d lose his sh*t, put a tracking charm on me, and make me stop my horcrux search. Or he’d be horrified at the things I’ve done. I… I can’t risk that.’

‘I’ll tell him once I’ve exhausted my other options.’

After paying Gringotts for the horcrux hunt and giving them a healthy tip, she quickly snuck back into Hogwarts and collapsed into her bed.

She slept badly that night, tormented by nightmares of Sirius accusing her of lying to him.

Soon enough it was time for the other schools to be arriving. Holly stood in formation outside with everyone else, wondering why they supposedly all needed to be there.

Holly was barely paying attention as a large flying carriage (pulled by pegasi of all things for some reason) landed.

Even seeing the obviously half giant headmistress of Beaubaxtons get out didn’t faze her. It wasn’t until she felt a familiar pressure against her occlumency barriers that her eyes focused on the arriving students, to one striking girl with silver blond hair in particular.

‘Oh. Well then. I guess she’s part veela. Ok Holly, you are going to use this opportunity to practice your occlumency. You are not going to obnoxiously stare at her like everyone else. You can do this. You can.’

She was too distracted motivating herself not to perv out to care about the other school arriving. At least, until she saw a vaguely familiar face leading the incoming students. It took her a minute to search her stolen memories before she figured it out.

Igor Karakoff, former death eater and apparently the headmaster of Durmstrang.

Either wizards had no concept of a background search or the whole blood purity nonsense thing was even more popular over there.

She wasn’t sure what was worse.

Eventually they settled into the great hall (she hadn’t wanted to bother going but Hermione argued it’d be worth watching how champions were chosen) and Dumbledore began his speech detailing the tournament.

She didn’t like the man but damn if he couldn’t hold a crowds’ attention.

When he explained that underaged students couldn’t enter she nearly fell over in shock. Wizards having safety precautions? It was a very pleasant surprise. Hopefully that would stop dumb kids from risking their lives for prize money.

She zoned out for a while, only tuning back in at the end as she anxiously waited to escape the crowd.

Dumbledore looked uncharastically grave as he wrapped up his speech. “You will have the full weekend to enter your names to compete. Do not do so lightly. Once your name is drawn there is no backing out.”

“On a happier note: it has been suggested to me that this weekend would make an excellent chance for our visiting students to explore Hogsmeade village. I do personally recommend Honeydukes’ sweets, a little sugar never hurts. Now, off to bed!”

It wasn’t long afterwards that Hermione found her afterwards reading in the Room. She sat down in a plushy chair opposite, looking far too excited. “I can’t believe the Triwizard Tournament is restarting, and right here at Hogwarts! What do you think Holly?”

Without bothering to look up from her book she replied, “I think young, desperate people are going to risk their lives for the prize money and fame. Not exactly a good reason in my opinion. Besides, why is it a school tournament? Wouldn’t it be more interesting to watch older, more skilled people compete?”

Holly finished reading an entire page before Hermione broke the silence. “That makes an alarming amount of sense. Which is probably why.”

“Exactly. Wizards are idiots. Now come on, show me your occlumency progress.” And with that she unceremoniously poked at Hermione’s occlumency barriers as they struggled to keep her out.

The following weekend was hardly worth remembering. She spent almost all of it holed up in the Room reading with Hermione. Hermione seemed to be doing her best to read through her entire Trunk library in record speed, needing Holly to remind her to stop and eat.

It was an odd feeling trying to take care of someone else but seeing Hermione’s outraged expression whenever she was dragged away to eat never failed to make her laugh.

It was on one of their food trips to the kitchens she heard some Durmstrang boys talking about several boys from their school had gotten completely wasted at Three Broomsticks. Apparently one even woke up naked across town.

Clearly they had sent their best.

Monday’s classes flew by and soon enough they were all in the great hall (Hermione had forced her to come again) as names were about to be drawn.

She watched as the first name shot out and an attractive older boy from Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory apparently, walked up.

Following him was the beautiful veela girl, Fleur Delacour, was selected from Beaubaxtons.

Finally a third name, Victor Krum, was called and for some reason he received an extra loud response from all schools.

Dumbledore went to start speaking again only to pause and turn as an unexpected forth name popped out. He looked at the note for a second before flatly calling out, “Holly Potter.”

Instantly everyone in the room was staring at her.

As for Holly? There was really only one proper response she could give to that.

“f*ck.”

Chapter 13: Year Four (II)

Chapter Text

Holly stood up and slowly started walking between the silent tables, her mind racing.

‘Why would someone enter me into the tournament? Did they do it as a prank or is someone actually trying to kill me? Could it be Adult Tom? Or Karakoff? Did they not have any way to check if someone entered someone else’s name? f*cking wizards with no security precautions. At least Hermione and Sirius will-‘

‘Sirius! He’d probably want to know about this right? Aren’t guardians supposed to care about this sorta thing?’

She abruptly stopped walking in the middle of the great hall and flicked her wrist, dropping her wand into her hand. A second later her raven patronus was hovering in front of her.

“Hey Sirius, someone entered me into the tournament and my name came out. I, uh, thought you might want to know.” With that she sent her patronus message off to Sirius who would get her message minutes later and promptly lose his sh*t.

Message sent, she walked into the side room, oblivious to the shocked silence behind her.

Immediately everyone in the room turned towards her. Before they could say anything she spoke up, “somebody entered my name and it came out. I’m not happy about it either.”

With that said she walked over to the nearest wall and conjured herself a comfortable seat. She had a feeling this was going to be a long, annoying conversation.

By the time she sat down the others had gotten over their shock and were shouting incoherently.

Their protests were interrupted when the doors slammed open, Dumbledore in the lead.

All eyes turned to Dumbledore as he approached her. She didn’t feel any legitimacy probes yet which was a nice surprise . Still, she made sure to keep her eyes lowered to his beard as he got uncomfortably close to her.

“Holly,” he asked calmly, “did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?”

“No. Why would I? The tournament is stupid, I’m already rich, and I hate attention.” There was a moment of silence before the majority of the people in the room started making offended noises.

Dumbledore turned back to the rest of the room. “It would seem somebody else entered her name.” When the other headmasters started complaining he silenced them with a raised hand, “Holly has consistently shunned attention since her arrival to Hogwarts. As she rather bluntly said, entering herself in the Tournament is not in her character.”

While the other headmasters started argued, she noticed the veela girl, Fleur Delacour, glaring at her.

When they made eye contact Holly (using her shapeshifting to hide a blush) spoke up in French, “I thought you of all people would understand how awful constant attention can be.” For a second Fleur looked stunned before quickly turning away.

From there professor Moody started throwing around accusations (she didn’t trust Karakoff in the slightest either. Turncoat Death Eater or not, she’d at least rob him blind one day.) and the room descended to infighting.

Holly was morbidly amused nobody besides professor Moody had made any mention of her safety. As far as they knew she was a normal 14-year-old who was woefully unprepared to compete.

Apparently her life wasn’t as important as school pride.

Granted, she was probably more magically knowledgeable then any of the other champions by a wide margin, but they didn’t know that. Of course, the age difference still put her at a massive disadvantage.

She was significantly shorter than even Fleur and hadn’t reached her full magical development from turning 17-years-old yet.

She’d be like a lightweight boxer trying to fight above her weight division. Her skill advantage would help but could only do so much to make up the difference. If she was forced to compete she’d need to compensate for them somehow.

If this was an assassination attempt she refused to let it succeed. She wasn't about to die without taking Adult Tom, his Death Eaters, and hopefully plenty of dementors down with her.

Eventually Holly managed to interrupt the arguing to speak. “Is me being entered still binding since it wasn’t myself who put my name in?”

All eyes turned to a rather strict and oddly sickly looking official, “It is clearly stated in the rules that the names of any who come out are required to compete. As Headmaster Dumbledore said, there is no backing out.”

“Even if I’m underaged? And are you really telling me you had nothing to ensure people couldn’t put somebody else’s name in?” While most of the other adults looked slightly sheepish the sickly official puffed up in offense.

“The Goblet of Fire-“

"Is an ancient artifact you don’t understand. And because of it I, a minor, am apparently being forced to compete in your stupid gladiator deathmatch against my will. Am I missing anything?”

The official looked furious but as she looked around the room thankfully he was one of the only ones. The other champions actually looked surprisingly chagrined, not meeting her eyes.

Maybe they’d be willing not to screw her over? That’d be nice.

Before the official could spew more bureaucratic nonsense the doors slammed open again and Sirius rushed through. He immediately wrapped her in a too tight hug before seeing the official.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my least favorite ministry stooge. I’m not sure why I’m surprised you’re behind this Crouch, you do love throwing innocent people into things they don’t deserve.”

Holly was confused for a second before she connected the dots. The official must be Bartemius Crouch, the overzealous prosecutor who threw Sirius in prison without a trial.

(Sirius would certainly approve if she robbed him. She’d have to remember that for her next gift to him.)

Recognizing the incoming meltdown, Holly settled deeper into her chair, wishing she had popcorn to munch on.

Crouch, clearly at his limit, started yelling back. “The Ministry was not required to give-“

“13 Years, Crouch! 13 years I sat in Azkaban because you wanted to become minister!” His face twisted into something malicious, “you were too busy with your job to notice your own son-“

“I HAVE NO SON!”

Before the two could draw wands Dumbledore intervened. “Gentlemen, this is hardly the time. Madam Maxine, Igor, we can meet tomorrow to discuss this. I suspect you would like to convene with your champions to discuss tonight's’ events.”

As they left Holly was shocked when all the other champions gave her some form of acknowledgement on their way out. Even Krum nodded goodbye. She didn’t understand.

Was it as simple as them believing her? That seemed too naïve to be true.

Once Dumbledore dismissed everyone he led them to his office, Sirius’s arm too tight around her shoulders the entire way. Holly meanwhile was too busy thinking to pay attention.

She already knew her main disadvantages, now she had to figure out countermeasures.

Being under 5 feet tall meant she’d be screwed in any physical competition. Wizards may not consider it important, but if the tournament had a physical component she’d be screwed.

Her shapeshifting seemed like an easy solution: she could fake an extreme growth spurt and shift a few inches taller.

Only, wouldn’t that mess with her center of balance? She’d be a clutz until she got used to being taller.

That meant she couldn’t immediately shift into a more practical height. She’d need to do it slowly, gaining maybe an inch a month. Then practice running and dueling at her new height until she felt normal. By the end of the year she’d be a more practical height without drawing suspicion or being clumsy if all went well.

It wasn’t a perfect solution but it was better than nothing.

Now her lack of raw magical power, that didn’t have a good solution.

She already suspected she was above average in raw power for her age. It was hard to judge, wizards didn’t seem to have a way to quantify it. But she had noticed that she was always less tired then her classmates looked after practical lessons. That Hermione’s spells always had a little less omph behind them.

Still, compared to someone who’d already finished their magical growth it’d be no competition. They undoubtedly had her beat in that regard.

(When Holly had learned that both the wizarding age of majority and their magical growth completion were at 17 she was surprised. It was almost too logical by wizards’ usual standards.)

She’d skimmed enough questionably legal and illegal books to know there were sacrificial rituals and blood magic that supposedly made someone more powerful. But both of those tended to have the side effect of physical deformities and mental instability.

Even Diary Tom was slightly wary of them, which was really saying something. That alone made it exceptionally clear to her they were a terrible idea.

Unless she could come up with an entirely new way of increasing her raw magical power that problem wasn’t getting solved anytime soon. She’d need to compensate for it in other ways.

But how? The tournament was run by wizards wanting a spectacle, it’ll undoubtedly be more dangerous than was reasonable.

Healing magic would be a good place to start. That’d help with the whole not dying thing.

(In hindsight it was a massive gap in her knowledge . Why the hell didn't they didn’t teach basic first aid in classes?)

Holly was drawn out of her thoughts as they reached the privacy of Dumbledore’s office. Immediately Sirius turned and started shouting at Dumbledore, desperately trying to get her out of the tournament. Dumbledore only stood there, calmly letting the panicking man express his fears.

It was sweet. She knew Sirius greatly respected Dumbledore, yet here he was yelling at the man for her sake. The thought that she had someone who truly cared about her had her eyes starting to water before she blinked it away.

(She ignored the twisting feeling in her stomach, knowing that she was betraying his trust by not telling him about Regulas. But she still couldn’t risk it. Not yet.)

Eventually she cut in to Sirius’s yelling, “Sirius! Yelling at him isn’t going to change anything. If I'm stuck in this stupid tournament then the best thing to do is focus on ways for me to survive this thing.”

Immediately she was tackle-hugged by him. His entire body was shaking as he mumbled into her hair, “I can’t lose you kid. I already lost James and Lily, not you too.”

(Her stomach twisted in guilt again, harder this time.)

He pried himself off her to face Dumbledore again. “How are you going to ensure her safety Dumbledore? She’s a brilliant witch but she’s only 14 for Loki’s sake.”

“My boy-“

“Don’t ‘my boy’ me, Dumbledore. I need you to keep Holly safe.”

“I am bound by the tournament’s-“

“That’s bullsh*t and you know it!” Before Sirius could keep yelling or draw his wand (something Holly would pay money to see) they were interrupted by a musical trill sounding through the room.

Holly looked over to see a massive bird (a phoenix, the hoarder had a bloody phoenix!) fly off its perch and barely contained her shock when it landed on her shoulder.

It was massive for a bird yet somehow she hardly felt its weight. Its plumage was a mix of yellow, oranges, and red, looking like fire itself. For lack of a better term, the bird was regal looking. Rather impressive considering it was still a bird, albeit a very magically powerful one.

With suspiciously intelligent eyes it craned its neck to look at her, seemingly evaluating her. After a second she was horrified to see its eyes starting to water.

‘Great, even the phoenix thinks I’m a dead girl walking. That’s confidence inspiring.’

Only, that’s when realization hit her like a freight train.

Phoenix tears. The most potent healing substance in the world, capable of healing nearly any non-immediately lethal wound.

She quickly used her free hand to conjure a vial and watched as a trickle of iridescent tears fell into it. After a timeless moment the tears stopped and she had a tiny vials’ worth. She pocketed it, promising herself to guard that vial with her life.

She looked back at the bird and scratched its stomach. “Thanks a ton. I’ll be sure not to waste your gift.” The phoenix rubbed its head against hers like an affectionate cat before taking off and landing back on its perch by the hoarder’s desk.

After a second she looked up to see both Sirius and Dumbledore silently staring, frozen in shock.

“What?” Strangely that didn’t seem to snap them out of it. Both of them kept staring, seemingly incapable of saying anything.

Well, if they weren’t saying anything that meant she’d need to. She could do that.

“Well, I think that covers the whole ‘not dying’ thing.” She quickly hugged the still strangely silent Sirius, “nice to see you again Sirius. Headmaster, I'm glad your hoarding includes legendary magical birds. Thanks again bird!”

With a final wave to the phoenix she walked out of the office, leaving them still silently staring behind her.

For several seconds they stared at the door after it closed behind Holly before slowly turning to each other.

“Did that just happen or am I still in Azkaban imagining things?”

“I believe it did.”

“Huh.”

“Indeed.”

After all, they both knew it was extraordinarily rare for phoenix tears to be gifted away. They were only given to worthy individuals in extreme times of need. Even then, it was usually only a tear or two, no more than necessary. Yet Holly had been gifted a (tiny) vials worth.

And she didn’t have any idea the significance of that.

From his perch Fawkes trilled in amusem*nt watching the humans flounder.

“Well then. I’m, uh, going to head out now. See you at the First Task.

“Do take care Sirius.”

Meanwhile Holly was walking through the halls, thinking of how to use the tears best.

Obviously she could use them to save her life if she was badly wounded. That was the main known use for them. But something about that seemed almost wasteful. Sure, she would very much appreciate the not dying bit but surely there was a way to get more use out of them.

If only she could extend the effects somehow…

It was that thought that caused her to walk straight into a walk in shock. She absentmindedly pinched her bleeding nose, not registering the pain in the slightest. She had more important things occupying her mind.

‘Eternal elixirs! Its perfect! The ingredients are kinda expensive and the effects are weak since they last your whole life but that’s no problem. Phoenix tears are stupidly potent. If I could add them to the standard eternal elixir base I’d have a permanent regenerative elixir! I’d heal faster for the rest of my life!’

‘I need to research and figure out other possible ingredients to add. Some dittany or bezoar dust would probably work well.’

‘If I do this I’ll only be able to use the potion once. That means I need the best: the freshest, most potent ingredients. Preferably harvested myself for maximum strength and ritual significance. I need a better cauldron too, probably a copper or bronze one, with engraved runes for potency.’

‘Everything has to be perfect.’

‘Hmm, I probably could make some other useful eternal elixirs if I got the right ingredients. Maybe if I use some basilisk hide I could permanently increase my magical resistance? Maybe another for stamina? Or a Liquid Luck elixir!’

‘Wait, isn’t liquid luck extremely toxic if taken too much? An eternal luck elixir, even if it was a weak one, would probably kill me. Or get me killed earlier. Damn, that would’ve been nice. At least I can still make myself some and have it ready for the end of the tournament. Or I could buy some. That’d be easier.’

‘Now I need to figure out other useful ingredients to add. Maybe some unicorn hairs? Guess I'm finally exploring the Forbidden Forrest. Bet I could find some useful plants in there too.’

‘If this works and I do make several eternal elixirs to permanently enhance myself… well, I suppose that’ll make life more interesting. And me wildly badass.’

Holly finally reached the door to the Room and pushed it open. Sure enough, Hermione was already inside, nervously pacing back and forth. The instant the doors opened she ran over and tackle-hugged Holly.

(That kept happening to her recently. Was that normal?)

Holly let Hermione ramble incoherently into her hair until Hermione finally let go. Before she continued her babbling Holly stuck a hand over her mouth.

“I’ve got a plan Hermione: I’m going to become a Total Badass.”

Hermione, despite having still half her face covered, was visibly unimpressed.

“Eternal elixirs, Hermione, eternal elixirs! They’re neglected because they’re difficult to make, the base components expense, and since the effects are significantly weaker because they last forever. But if you had a powerful enough core ingredient, say phoenix tears, and possibly several other healing ingredients… well, then you’d have a permanent regenerative elixir. Badass, right?”

Hermine, still clearly not seeing her wisdom, pushed her hand away to talk. “But Holly, you can’t just buy phoenix tears. They have to be given freely.”

“I know, that’s why I’m glad Dumbledore’s such a hoarder because his just gave me some.” She held up her tiny vial to show a now stunned Hermione.

After slowly blinking several times Hermione eventually managed to speak, “…so you already have some. I can try to help Holly but you’re the potions master here, not me.”

Now it was her turn to not understand. “Potions master? Me? I only care about potions because Snape will win if I finally make a mistake. I mean, sure they’re useful but that’s not why. I refuse to lose to that bastard.”

For some reason Hermione looked like she’d said something incomprehensible. “You- I- Holly… You know what? That’s not important. I like your idea Holly.”

“Good. Time to get started on Operation: Become a Total Badass.”

Chapter 14: Year Four (III)

Chapter Text

Hogwarts suddenly became annoying again after her name was drawn. Everywhere Holly went normal abruptly conversations stopped. People stared and whispered constantly. Even her own roommates (she still didn’t know their names) had hissed conversations when they thought she was asleep.

Of course, nobody had dared to confront her yet. Her reputation for being violently reclusive was protecting her from that so far.

According to Hermione people were heavily divided on if she put her name in or not.

Allegedly some believed she hated everyone and would never willing interact with people, not even for prize money. When Hermione told her she laughed. It wasn’t that far off.

The other half believed Holly ignored everyone because she thought she was better than everyone. That, out of some kind of narcissism, Holly had entered to show off.

What seemingly wasn’t in doubt was if Holly could’ve entered her name if she wanted. Hogwarts collectively agreed that she could’ve figured out a way around the age line.

Which again, was true. She would've simply levitated a paper with her name on it over the age line.

Either way, her fame and reclusiveness had apparently made people think she was wildly powerful and skilled. Which, ok, she was exceptionally skilled for her age but they didn’t have any way to know that. Clearly wizards were easily manipulated. No wonder they kept having dark lords if it was that easy to form a cult following.

The night her name was drawn she’d snuck out to Diagon Alley for supplies. A high-end potions equipment shop she found sold cauldrons with engraved runes designed to increase a potions potency. Holly wasn’t sure which metal type would be best so she bought one of each 4 standard metals, plus another made of solid gold.

The clerk looked extremely suspicious but didn’t question the piles of galleons she paid with.

Unfortunately, they had no good way to precisely measure the strength multiplying effect of the runes, only advertising that potions any brewed in them would be “several to many times stronger.” Fortunately she had an idea to figure that out.

Using her 5 new cauldrons and a standard pewter cauldron for a control group, she brewed 6 fertilizing potions. After that it wasn’t hard to ask a bewildered Professor Sprout to use her potions on a couple dittany sprouts and measure the results.

She watched the plants rapidly grew, several of them practically shooting up. By the time the plants were finished growing a few were taller then Holly, with the one using the gold cauldrons’ potion reaching the ceiling.

Professor Sprout seemed a bit stunned by that for some reason. Thankfully she didn’t protest when Holly asked if she could take some dittany clippings with her. It wasn’t until she’d finished harvesting dittany that professor Sprout managed to ask for more of her potions.

Obviously, she agreed, but asked to be paid in fresh clippings.

‘Dittany, grown with a potion I made and personally harvested. This’ll go quite nicely in my regenerative elixir.’

The next ingredient was a bit harder to get. She knew from her Care class there were unicorns in the Forbidden Forest but had no idea where. Blindly stomping around the Forest looking for them seemed like asking for trouble.

Thankfully there was somebody who knew and was certain to have an unguarded mind.

During Care class she subtly dove into Hagrid’s mind and was horrified.

Acromantulas. There were f*cking acromantulas were in the Forest right next to Hogwarts because Hagrid bred them. He didn’t understand how that might be a problem.

Somehow that wasn’t even the worst of it.

During her first year something had been killing unicorns and drinking their blood. Later it was revealed to the staff by Dumbledore that Quirrell had been possessed by Adult Tom, drinking unicorn blood in an attempt to gain strength for stealing the philosopher’s stone. When that failed Adult Tom abandoned Quirriel to die.

She’d been taught by Adult Tom for a whole year and didn’t realize! She hadn’t thought his incompetence and her headaches were anything other than him being a creep. Clearly she hadn’t been paying enough attention that year.

That same year Hagrid had illegally won a dragon egg and hatched it, only for it to burn down his hut. The only reason he didn’t have it still was because Dumbledore arranged for it to be smuggled away.

She was starting to realize Dumbledore was suspiciously skilled at covering things up.

‘How the hell did I miss all that? I guess I really should pay more attention to what’s going on. Seems like this place is even more dangerous than I thought.’

Hagrid, as a professor and Hogwarts’ gamekeeper, also knew a surprising amount about the tournament’s tasks, including the number, schedule, and his own contributions.

First up: dragons. Nesting mother dragons. It was worse than she’d expected. Her planned regenerative elixir would heal any burns but it’d be useless against being eaten! She needed to plan.

At least she still had a full month to prepare.

After that Hagrid knew the second task was something to do with the Lake. Exceptionally vague but still a good lead.

The final task Hagrid had been asked to provide some creatures for the champions to fight. Which, considering Hagrid’s usual taste in creatures, was a horrible miscalculation. He wouldn’t see anything wrong with tossing a few acromantula at someone.

With everything else he knew she nearly forgot what she’d originally been looking for: a mental map of the Forbidden Forest.

She spent that class hardly paying attention, instead sifting through Hagrid’s mind. Hermione looked upset when she realized what Holly was doing so she mouthed “later” at Hermione. She doubted any of Hermione’s moral objections would last after Hermione knew what she’d learned.

By the end of class she had a rough idea what she’d need to avoid (territorial centaurs and the acromantula colony) and where to find the unicorns and valuable plants. Thestrals too.

(Which, oddly enough, she knew she could already see pulling the carriages. Apparently the vague hint of the memory of her parent's deaths was enough? Weird.)

Unsurprisingly, her next class was far less helpful.

Her first potions class after getting her name was unpleasantly routine. Snape harassed her like normal but she’d long learned to expect it. Thankfully, for some unknown reason they were still focusing on medical potions, with an occasional other useful potion mixed in.

She brewed her Fire Resistance Potion to perfection, making a minor alteration to allow it to handle higher temperature fires. As usual, he assigned her a paper and let her take her leftover potion.

It wasn’t until she was packing up she was caught off-guard. Just before she left Snape called out, “Potter, stay behind.”

She tensed up, not knowing what to expect. The rest of the class took the chance to escape, some of them giving her pitying looks as they hustled out.

Once they were alone he spoke, an unreadable expression on his face, “since you have been entered into the Triwizard Tournament you are not eligible to take your potions N.E.W.T. this year. You will have to wait until next year.”

There were several silent seconds as she tried and failed to understand what was going on. Snape stared back with that same unreadable expression before becoming visibly annoyed and explaining.

“If you had been listening to the Tournament announcement, you would know champions have been excused from their final exams. As such you cannot take your N.E.W.T. this year.” He arched a brow, “unless you are arrogant enough to believe you are capable of preparing for both at once.”

For a moment she was too furious to respond without yelling at him.

‘Oh that bastard. He’s challenging me. Trying to prove I can’t handle this stupid tournament. I’ll prove you wrong, just you wait.’

She smiled a fake, too sweet smile, her eyes blazing. “I appreciate your concern professor, but I think I’d like to take it this year. I wouldn’t want to waste any more of your valuable time.”

They stared at each other silently before Snape finally spoke. “Very well. If you do find yourself unable to effectively prepare for your N.E.W.T. inform me and you will be excused. Dismissed.”

With that Holly spun on the spot, racing out of the classroom and slamming the door behind her, not seeing the smirk on Snape’s mouth.

Needing to do something to distract herself, she furiously walked through the halls, already heading towards the front gates. Just before she stepped outside she disillusioned herself and walked into the Forbidden Forest for the first of many times.

She could tell the Forest was ancient. The trees were massive, rising high, with the canopy shadowing the Forest floor. She walked down the path, occasionally picking a couple fresh berries Hagrid knew the unicorns liked or a useful plant clipping.

Soon she was deep in the Forest, the path hardly visible anymore. She turned towards the unicorn’s territory and kept walking, confident in Hagrid’s knowledge of the Forest.

Sure enough, she started seeing the occasional pure white hair stuck on a bush or tree trunk. Each one she saw she grabbed and shoved in her pocket. They were stupidly valuable after all.

No wonder the school talked up how dangerous the Forest was: students would risk their lives for a couple unicorn hairs if they thought they could survive getting them.

She knew these random hairs could work in her regenerative elixir but she wouldn’t be using them.

Magic was about intent, something that was obvious in rituals which required not only ingredients, but also the symbolic actions behind them. A random fallen unicorn hair would work, but one willingly given to her personally would be far more powerful.

It was why she was personally collecting as many of the ingredients for her regenerative elixir as possible. Those she couldn’t she’d pay extra for an apothecary to ship in extra fresh.

She came upon a small clearing and, deciding it was a good spot, sat down and started humming quietly.

She wasn’t sure if this would work. Or if unicorns would like her. They were supposed to be embodiments of purity after all. Physically she might be, but mentally? She’d been plotting murder for years. If unicorns were moral absolutists they’d never help her.

She kept humming quietly, letting her mind empty for once. It was peaceful listening to the sounds of nature. Maybe the hippies really were on to something. Besides drugs that was.

She abruptly pulled out of her pseudo meditation when she her a twig snap nearby. Her eyes flew open and she nearly gasped at the sight.

A large unicorn was standing directly across from her in the clearing. Its coat was such a pure white that even in the shadows it seemed to be faintly glowing. It was looking at her cautiously, giving her the impression of intelligence.

Holly stood up slowly, careful not to startle it. Making eye contact, she slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out some of the berries she picked earlier.

With the berries in her palm spoke in an a (hopefully) soothing tone, “hey there, I have some berries that Hagrid thinks you guys like.”

It hesitantly walked closer, never looking away from her. Eventually it was close enough to her hand and sniffed her several times before eating the berries out of her palm.

She’d never felt a horses’ lips before, magical or otherwise. It was a strange sensation. Or maybe that was from magic?

Once they were all eaten she slowly reached back into her pocket to get more berries for it to eat and repeated the process . After several times she was out of berries and her hands were stained with berry juice, but the unicorn seemed more comfortable.

“You know, you’re quite majestic looking and I don’t say that lightly. I’d ask to pet you but I imagine you don’t want berry juice in your hair. Somehow I can’t imagine you getting dirty.”

The unicorn snorted, seemingly amused, (‘oh god, are they sentient? That’d made wizards taking their hairs an ethical nightmare’) and started licking her fingers clean. Once they were she hesitatingly started running her hand through its mane.

“How is your hair so perfectly straight and knot free? Is that an innate part of being a unicorn or do you secretly have a haircare routine? You gotta help a girl out.” Again, it snorted in amusem*nt, this time also bumping her with the side of its head.

“Not to sour the moment but I was hoping to ask you something: you remember that awful guy from a few years ago?” This time the unicorn whined, clearly upset. “He’s still out there somewhere. I’m going to fight him one day but I need to survive this stupid tournament first.”

It turned its head around to look at her eye to eye. “I know you guys are apparently all about purity and that’s not exactly me but… I could really use your help. Adult Tom is a monster that shouldn’t be allowed to live, but I need to be able to grow up more before I can fight him.”

The unicorn stared into her eyes, seemingly measuring her worth, before shaking out its mane, several hairs falling from it. Holly quickly ducked and snatched them out of the air, storing them away in a separate pocket.

She wrapped her arms around its neck, burying her face in it's shockingly soft hair.

“Thank you so much. Seriously. I’ll bring you some more berries and visit sometime.”

“I need something to call you too. Hmm… if I want to go the Tolkien route then you should be called Shadowfax. He’s the lord of horses in Lord of the Rings. How’s that sound?”

She got a loud whinney and head bump in response, a clear sign of agreement. “Glad that’s decided. Thanks for the help Shadowfax, I’ll seeya later.”

With a wave goodbye she started walking back towards the path, still reeling from the encounter.

‘First the phoenix and now Shadowfax. Am I catnip for suspiciously intelligent magical creatures or something?’

Still thinking about her encounter with Shadowfax, she wandered off the path to collect more potion ingredients, being careful to stay away from both the acromantula and centaur territories. She’d rather not sour her first experience in the Forest.

Although… acromantula venom was a useful potion ingredient. Acromantula silk was stupidly valuable too.

Something to remember for the future.

Holly was pulled out of her plotting when her faintly heard an airy voice singing. She slowly stalked closer, wondering what someone else was doing in the Forest.

There in a clearing was a tiny girl with almost white blond hair, singing to herself as she tossed what looked like bloody chunks of meat towards some nearby thesterals.

‘So that where the Thestrals go when they're not pulling the carriages. And the girl can see them too. That’s... something all right. Hopefully she’s not disposing of a body.’

She watched for a moment before another thought occurred to her. ‘I’m on a good streak with intelligent magical creatures helping me. Maybe she could help me get a thestral hair? That’d be useful. Plus, its not like the girl could tell a professor I was in the Forest without admitting she was too.”

With thought in mind she walked closer, clearing her throat so she didn’t startle the girl.

The girl turned, her large unfocused blue eyes turning in her general direction. “Hello Holly Potter, I was wondering when I’d meet you.”

And just like that Holly was caught off guard. “That’s… ominous. Have we talked before?”

“You drove off the nargles in my 1st year. Now they never steal my things anymore.”

“Err, you’re welcome?”

“I wanted to thank you then but you had too many wackspurts blocking your ears. You’re doing better now though.” The girl sounded sincere, if completely nonsensical. Somehow Holly knew the girl was focused on her despite seemingly staring into the distance.

‘What the hell does that mean? Is that code? Is she imperioused? Is she a seer? Or maybe she’s getting stoned in the Forest?’

‘Oh wait, I forgot something.’

“What’s your name?”

“Luna Lovegood, although others call me Loony sometimes. They don’t like that my father runs The Quibbler."

That explained it. She’d seen several old copies of The Quibbler in the library. As far a she could tell it was for the magical equivalent of flat earth conspiracy theorists.

Still, Luna couldn’t be much younger than Holly and could see thestrals. That, along with her odd behavior didn’t paint a happy picture.

“Well Luna, maybe you could help me? I’ve been collecting potion ingredients: I have some phoenix tears and unicorn hairs. Some thestral hairs would be useful but Im not familiar with their behavior enough to ask.”

Luna's eyes went wide, “even so, you must be quite the magizoologist. I’ll have to tell my father so we can put it in the next issue.”

Oh sh*t, she didn’t want that getting out. “I’d, uh, appreciate it of you didn’t. I’m working on something important that I’d like to keep secret.”

Somehow Luna looked even more excited. She looked back and forth before leaning in, “does it involve the Rotfang conspiracy or the Hindenbergists?”

“Maybe?” Seriously, she couldn’t tell what Luna’s deal was. Everything she said somehow managed to sound like complete nonsense and code at the same time.

Luna squealed and clapped her hands together, “I’d be happy to help!”

What followed was one of the oddest experiences of her life yet. Which, frankly, was really saying something.

It was some combination of petting a skeletal, winged, and hopelessly edgy looking horse, Luna saying Luna-esq things, and the fact the thestral willingly gave her several hairs. By the end Holly was feeling emotionally numb as she waved goodbye to a cheerful Luna and stumbled out of the Forest.

When Holly got back to the Room she was too tired to be surprised when Hermione asked where she was.

“Getting ingredients, there’s tons of useful stuff in the Forest. I’m pretty sure the reason its forbidden is because the professor want to keep secret how packed with valuables it is.” She took out her (somehow not tangled) bunch of unicorn hairs she’d found laying around, ignoring Hermione’s shock.

“I’ll sell these to Gringotts. Ollivander would offer a better price but he would ask questions. Plus he’s creepy.”

Hermione, still slowly recovering from her shock, spoke up, “but isn’t the Forbidden Forest dangerous?”

“Maybe? I got a good mental map of it from Hagrid to stay safe. By the way: guess what else he knew?”

The following conversation about everything she’d learned from Hagrid’s mind took several hours, likely some of Holly’s hearing, and seemingly most of what trust Hermione had in authority. By the end Hermione looked terrified.

Which was rather understandable. She did just get a heavy dose of wizarding bullsh*t.

“Ok Holly, we’re going to train. If this school can’t protect us we’ll have to do it ourselves.”

“Duh, what you do think I’ve been doing? I could use a training partner.”

The day after Hermione’s impromptu training declaration they were seemingly rewarded. As they were leaving Defense class professor Moody asked her to stay behind.

One side glance showed Hermione was staying behind with her. It seemed she was serious about her newfound vigilance.

Of course, professor Moody was proud of her for it. “Staying behind with your friend so she’d not left alone with me eh? That’s a good thinking. Five points to Gryffindor for proper vigilance.”

“Now Potter, this Tournament is dangerous. Your opponents are all older, more experienced then you, and have their angry headmasters whispering in their ear. I’m offering you my help to train you up to par.”

It was a good offer. He was a skilled auror and could coach her better than even Sirius.

Too good of an offer. Maybe it was paranoia, but, well, it wasn’t paranoia if they really were out to get her. She needed some reassurances.

“I want Hermione to be trained with me, to have Sirius supervise, and a predictable meeting schedule.”

Naturally, that made professor Moody give his twisted grin. “Excellent! Ten points to Ravenclaw! Talk with miss Granger and Sirius so we can set a time. I’ll see you then.”

They walked out together, both still unnerved enough not to completely show their back to professor Moody. Of course, she heard him give them more points for it as the door was closing.

“That man is far too paranoid Holly” Hermione muttered as they walked.

“Oh yeah, big time. Guy definitely has untreated PTSD from his long career. Unfortunately for him, wizards don’t seem to have any concept of mental health other then calling them 'mad.' It's pretty sad honestly.”

On that cheerful thought, she had a letter to write Sirius.

Thankfully the rest of her week wasn’t nearly as eventful. Sirius wrote back agreeing to supervise lessons twice a week, she collected bubotuber pus in exchange for giving Professor Sprout more fertilizing potions, and repeatedly kicked Hermione’s ass in practice duels.

It wasn’t until Friday night she went to collect her next ingredient: murtlap tentacles.

Murtlaps were an aquatic rat-like creature with tentacles growing from their back that lived off the coast of Britain. If she wanted to personally gather them she’d have to apparate to the coast, dive underwater, find some, and cut off their tentacles. Ideally without killing them.

All while in dark, freezing cold water with poor visibility.

She was not looking forward to it.

Five hours later a freezing cold and miserable Holly staggered back into the Room, victorious. She wasn’t wet thanks to a transfigured wetsuit and impermeable charm, but that was a small mercy.

She collapsed in front of a roaring fireplace, desperate for warmth. There was a quiet popping noise before Tilly suddenly appeared with a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

“Thanks Tilly, you’re the best.”

With a bony hug Tilly popped away, leaving a very concerned looking Hermione staring down at her.

With her arms crossed and seemingly passing judgement somehow she arched a brow, “should I ask where you went?”

“Murtlap tentacles Hermione. Went to gather some myself.” She help up her large filled jar, “should be plenty for a while. I do not want to do this again anytime soon.”

“…Don’t they live underwater off the coast?”

“Yeah, why?”

Hermione simply shook her head, “is that the last component?”

“I think so? Now I need to do all the theorycrafting and math to figure out how to best optimize the elixir with the limited supplies I have. Shouldn’t take more then a week.”

“A week!? Let me get this right: you, Holly Potter, are going to invent a permanent healing elixir. Which will apparently only take you a week.”

“Probably? Potion brewing is like if a poet tried to do chemistry while high: completely nonsensical but surprisingly intuitive.”

Hermione didn’t seem to like her metaphor because she still looked flustered. “Maybe you could get Professor Snape’s opinion?”

“Can’t do that, that bastard delights in seeing me suffer. Plus, he used to be a Death Eater and a spy. If Adult Tom ever comes back Snape will get drawn in. I can’t risk him knowing the details.”

Before Hermione could make the next obvious suggestion she continued, “the only other potions master I know of is Horace Slughorn but he’s just as bad: a cowardly and easily manipulated influence peddler. He’d help me now but sell me out to save his own skin later.”

“Fine, but I’m helping. I’m not letting you drink an experimental potion without checking it over.”

“Of course, what are friends for?” For some reason that had Hermione laughing hysterically. Instead of explaining, she waved off her concern and left, leaving Holly to soak up warmth alone.

To outsiders during the next week it seemed as if the stress of the Tournament was getting to Holly. She looked exhausted in class and disappeared even faster then normal afterwards. The students who hated Holly saw it as her knowing she was doomed while her sympathizers hoped she was so tired looking from her training.

It was during this week that a few students tried something very stupid: they tried to bully Holly Potter.

As Holly and Hermione were walking out of class a small group blocked their way.

“Oi, Potter” a blond boy with a terrible hairstyle called out, “you finally realize you won’t survive the Tournament? I’ve got a bet going that you won’t make it through the First Task.” The blond and some of the others behind him laughed.

“Uh, who are you supposed to be?” Seriously. Did people she's never even talked to expect her to know their names? That... did sound on brand for wizards.

For some reason that made everyone, even Hermione, turn to stare at her. The blond, apparently not expecting that, looked offended as his face turned red.

“I’m Draco Malfoy, Heir of the Malfoy family! How dare you not know me?!” He drew his wand, “you need to recognize your betters, Potter!”

Before he could do anything Holly let her wand drop into her hand. A silent flick had him flying upwards, slamming face first into the ceiling and sticking there.

“You sound like a dog owner bragging about their poodle’s pedigree.”

Not saying another word she tugged on Hermione’s sleeve and marched forward. As they got closer the suddenly uncertain looking wannabe bullies drew their wands. Before they could say a single spell Holly casually batted them aside, sticking them to the walls.

Without a single glance backwards she kept walking to the Room.

“Now, I think we’ve nearly got it, Hermione. We just need to figure out exactly when and where to brew it.”

A few nights later, on the night of a new moon, they were were hunched over her gold cauldron, completely focused on their brewing. They’d decided to brew near the schools’ anchorstones, not directly connected to the leylines, but close enough her cauldrons’ engraved runes were glowing from the ambient magic.

(She didn’t want her elixir to be too strong. If she healed too fast any broken bones could heal wrong. Or maybe it could increase her chance of cancer. Magic might prevent any negative side effects somehow but she'd rather not risk it.)

First was the base solution for an eternal elixir. If they did it right it would spread the effects of additives out over the course of her life. It was annoyingly complicated being a NEWT level potion, but after several hours they managed to brew Holly’s slightly altered version of one.

From there Holly slowly and meticulously added her healing ingredients: phoenix tears, unicorn hairs, murtlap tentacles, bezoar dust (stolen from a random goat she’d found), hydra blood (the goblins really did have everything for a price), bubotuber pus, and crushed lionfish spines (taken from a lionfish she’d bought at a London pet shop).

It wasn’t until the early morning their brewing was done. She set down her gold stirring rod to examine her work.

Her so called regenerative elixir was an indescribable shade of vibrant red. Not quite the same as blood but somehow making her think of life itself. Just looking at it as it magically churned itself made her heart beat faster, like her body was already being filled with vitality.

Or maybe that was just anticipation and sleep loss. It had to be almost morning by now.

“Well, here goes nothing.”

She lifted her cauldron to her lips and chugged her elixir. Somehow, despite there being a pint of potion she didn’t choke or need to stop for air. Feeling anticlimactic, she set down her cauldron and took stock.

She felt… strange. Nothing dramatic, no sparkling skin or feeling like she could one punch her enemies.

But she felt something. Some ineffable difference that she knew, somehow, her elixir had worked.

She wandlessly cast a weak cutting curse at her forearm, hardly breaking skin. Staring at her cut she watched as blood rose, only to seal her cut closed. Soon her cut was nothing but a fading pink line.

She looked back up to a gaping Hermione, “well, I think it worked. Phase One of Operation: Become a Total Badass is complete. Time for Phase Two.”

Jerking out of her daze Hermione looked up with a wary expression. “Phase two?”

“Mhm, I had a Great Idea for the dragon.”

For some reason that had Hermione looking even more wary. “A great idea?”

The following explanation of her plan had Hermione’s expression going from wary, to dubious, to furious, until she settled on resignation.

With her head slumped in her hands, Holly couldn’t see Hermione’s face under the mass of bushy hair. Eventually she started muttering into her hands, Holly only vaguely hearing “-my only close friend is a suicidal idiot-savant nutcase.”

“Hey, I take offense to that. I am well aware of my limits. Speaking of which: you want to test my healing speed with me?”

For some reason that had Hermione’s head crashing into the table as she wordlessly groaned into her hands.

Chapter 15: Year Four (IV)

Chapter Text

Looking around the room she wasn’t surprised to see the other champions had already arrived. She was walking in quite late.

She’d been exercising to adjust from shapeshifting herself slightly taller when Tilly popped in telling her they needed her for some tournament thing. After a couple spells to freshen up she hurried out.

Almost instantly when she walked in, a middle-aged woman with gaudy glasses ambushed her. “Rita Skeeter writing for the Daily Prophet, care to answer a few questions miss Potter?”

Here was a perfect chance for free good public relations! She wouldn’t even need to bribe someone for it. How convenient.

Now all she needed was to improvise a good statement. Not so convenient.

“I want this quoted directly, no alterations or I’ll set my solicitor on you. Got it?” Skeeter paled but Holly didn’t care. She glanced over at the other champions, “and make sure to accurately report on the other champions too. They’re the ones who wanted to be part of this sh*tshow.”

“Quote: I was entered into this tournament against my will by parties unknown. Now people are too blinded by jealousy to care about how my life is at risk against my will. I think this whole tournament is an awful idea and wish I could drop out. End quote.”

Without another word she walked off.

She approached Fleur, using occlumency to try and block out the veela allure (it didn’t seem to help much. Was she just that attracted to the girl?) and using shapeshifting to hide her blush. “Do you know why we’re here?” she asked in French.

Fleur glanced down at her (dammit, she was still roughly half a foot shorter), looking surprised, “did they not tell you?”

“Nope, they sent a house elf to come get me. I guess they didn’t know where I was.”

“It’s the-“

Before Fleur could explain what was going on Dumbledore called the room to order.

“May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?” said Dumbledore, standing by the other headmasters and bureaucrats. “He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament.”

Sure enough, there was Ollivander looking old and vaguely unsettling as ever.

He called Fleur up first and examined her wand, making a comment that sounded suspiciously like a backhanded insult against her Veela heritage.

Instead of paying attention to the others Holly was deep in thought.

Wandcraft was something she knew almost nothing about. She’d only seen a couple books on it in Hogwarts’ library either or while shopping. For how dependent wizards were on their wand they had shocking little interest in making them.

Which guaranteed that almost nobody could make themself a wand. The entire population was dependent on Ollivander’s shop (or blackmarket equivalents). If his shop was destroyed the entire country would be crippled.

f*cking wizards and their society that’s entirely dependent on one creepy old guy.

That thought alone made Holly decide to eventually research wandcraft when she had time.

It’d be useful having a backup wand. Plus, she might have a better connection with it too if she made it herself.

Holly was dragged out of her thoughts when her name was called and handed her wand over to Ollivander. As expected, he did his creepy examination routine. He spent a suspiciously long time silently examining it before conjuring a fountain of wine with it.

After that he announced her wand was in good condition while Holly was left wondering if he’d just casually broken Gamp’s Law. She filed the thought away to ask Hermione later.

After an obnoxious amount of pictures (she had to hide her blush again when she was squeezed between Fleur and Cedric. Damn distractingly attractive people) she was finally free to go.

Over the next few days Holly was too consumed in thought to care about people’s reaction to her interview. She already knew about the dragons but she doubted any other champions did yet. She didn’t give a sh*t about breaking the rules, she wanted to tell them.

They might’ve willingly entered but she doubted they’d expected to face dragons.

They’d be told eventually but they might not have enough time to prepare.

Mind made up, Holly bought several copies of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, placed a vaguely helpful note in the dragon section, and asked Tilly to deliver one to each champion's beds.

A few days later Holly was surprised when a nondescript owl delivered a book on dragons with a note written in Sirius’s handwriting attached. It was unnecessary but sweet. The fact he went through the effort of bribing someone to (in his mind) help save her life was touching.

She wasn’t going to analyze what that said about her morality.

Sirius wasn’t even the only adult to try to help her. During class Hagrid kept trying to drop hints about the task. She tried to stop him, but he couldn’t take a hint and kept trying to “subtly” drop hints, each more obvious than the last.

Or at least, his idea of subtly. Hagrid was nice but subtle as a brick to the face. By the end of the class everyone there knew the task had something to do with dragons. A few hours later the rest of Hogwarts knew too.

After that the next 2 weeks passed in a blur of grueling training.

Professor Moody was impressed with her skill and, as expected, suspicious. At least Sirius could cover for her. While alone (Hermione refused to help) she practiced her plan for the dragon until she'd mastered it. With Hermione she exercised to adjust to shifting slightly taller. By the end of the first week she felt natural in her body again.

(She’d also tried to shapeshift herself into a bodybuilder’s physique and was extremely disappointed when she couldn’t. Sadly it seemed shapeshifting had its limitations. For some reason Hermione had found her disappointment hilarious.)

The last bit of her preparation was simple: she anonymously asked the Weasley Twins start a betting pool (promising to give them a cut of course) and bet 10 galleons that “Holly Potter will defeat the dragon she has to fight in the first task” and a that she’d receive “only minor to no injuries doing it.”

Naturally, the money started pouring in from people betting against her (seemingly insane) prediction. According to Hermione, by the night before the task the betting pool had hundreds of galleons in it, almost everyone betting against her.

On the day of the task Holly found herself in a tent with the other champions. All of them were showing signs of losing their nerves: Cedric was pacing, Fleur was frozen in place looking extremely nervous (but still distractingly attractive as ever somehow), Krum was brooding like no tomorrow.

“Remember when I called this tournament a gladiator deathmatch? This is the kinda sh*t I meant. You all obviously underestimated the stupidity of wizards. You’re welcome for the books by the way.”

Instantly the other champions focused on her, Cedric speaking up first. “That was you?”

“Of course. I don’t give a sh*t about the rules. What are they going to do: kick me out or disqualify me? Oh no, how terrible.”

That made both Cedric and Fleur give a nervous laugh. Even Krum cracked a smile.

“Anyway, good luck people and try not to die.”

The tent flapped open again and a pudgy, past-his-prime looking ministry official came in.

“Well, now we’re all here, time to fill you in!” said the overenthusiastic pudgy official. “When the audience has assembled, I’m going to be offering each of you this bag.” He held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them, “from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different, er, varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too… ah, yes… your task is to collect the golden egg!”

They reached in one at a time, each pulling out a tiny model dragon. Holly was happy when she pulled out the Hungarian Horntail. It was perfect for her plan! The larger and more powerful the better.

The only downside was that she’d be the last to compete.

She waited cross legged while playing with her mini dragon, feeling ready for what was coming. The pudgy official awkwardly tried to talk to her but she brushed him off until he eventually let her be. She wished both Fleur and Krum luck in their native languages when they were called, something that visibly surprised Krum for some reason.

Finally, it was her turn. She put her hair in a bun, charmed her tracksuit fire resistant, drank her fire protection potion, and stepped out of the tent.

The instant she entered the arena she ducked behind a boulder and started casting. After a few seconds she charmed herself disillusioned, silenced, and even scent masked. She’d (hopefully) be almost undetectable now.

Blocking out the audience she started looking around the arena. Sure enough, there was an extremely angry (and thankfully confused) looking dragon in the center, on her nest looking around for her.

She moved from boulder to boulder, doing her best to stay out of its focus. Watching her step wasn’t easy while invisible but she managed to flank the dragon without being spotted.

Finally in position, she started the next part of her plan: she concentrated for a moment and conjured an oversized needle with an empty vial attached. It was exactly the same kind used by doctors for taking blood samples, only several times larger.

Holly was practical to a fault: when she learned of the dragons her first thought was about how useful dragon’s blood was. If she was being forced to fight a dragon then she was damn well going to get some dragons’ blood out of it. This would probably be the only time she’d get to legally fight one, how could she possibly pass up such a good opportunity to get a rare and useful ingredient?

She’d skimmed enough knowledge from passing doctors to know how to draw blood, all she had to do was upscale it for a dragon. The dragon wouldn’t even be at risk: its hide was so thick any needle holes she poked would seal the second she took the needle out.

If she used it in a strengthening solution instead of the standard fire salamander’s blood, it’d make the potion many times more effective. Even more so if she personally took the blood by force.

It went without saying she was already planning on using the dragon blood she gathered to make a strength elixir.

With a silent flick of her wand she launched her dragon-sized blood drawing needle at the dragons’ neck. Immediately she started running for a new boulder to hide behind.

She heard the dragon give a roar of shock and anger when it was hit. She doubted it was in real pain, just surprised and very angry.

Unable to see the threat it knew existed, the mother dragon started wildly breathing fire back and forth. Behind her boulder Holly quickly added cooling charms to her tracksuit. Her current boulder was plenty large to block the fire but she could feel the invisible sweat running down her neck.

When she saw the dragon spewing fire in the opposite direction she conjured another needle, launching it at the dragons’ shoulder this time. Immediately she took off running. When her needle landed the dragon whipped around and focused its fire until her former cover boulder was glowing red hot.

Holly repeated the process several times until the dragon had a half dozen needles sticking out of her. A couple times she had to dive for cover but thankfully her invisibility held up.

Peeking from behind her cover she could see the vials were filled with blood, plenty for her purposes. Satisfied, she decided it was time to finish the task.

She snuck closer to the enraged dragon, several times ducking behind cover just in time. Soon enough she was only a couple dozen feet away, crouched down behind cover and waiting to strike.

She saw the glow of fire to her right and took the opening: she ran closer to the dragons’ head until she could see its slitted pupil. Pulling on her magic she channeled her full power into a single silent and extremely overpowered dornröschen.

The purple spell hit the dragon in the eye, making it stagger. It swayed in place for a moment before abruptly collapsing, sound asleep, thankfully not crushing its eggs.

Dornröschen was a spell to put someone in a permanent magical coma she’d found in a Room provided book of original spells. Of course, on a dragon it could only put them to sleep for a bit.

The spell was obscure and morally ambiguous to say the least, she didn’t want to popularize it by saying it out loud in front of an audience. Hopefully everyone would assume it was simply an overpowered sleeping spell.

Which, technically, it was.

(She knew she could have knocked the dragon out at the start. That certainly would’ve been easier. But without the struggle any blood taken would lose some of the added strength from the magical significance of overpowering the dragon.

Plus, the judges might’ve interrupted if they realized what she was doing.)

Ignoring the cheers, Holly undid her concealment spells and approached the sleeping dragon. She detached the vial from the needle in its neck, quickly replacing it with another conjured one. After repeating the process for a few minutes she had a dozen vials full of blood. She quickly put them away into a bottomless pocket and walked around the dragon, carefully pulling out her other needles and vials.

Blood collection complete, she casually walked up to the egg nest, pulled out the golden egg, and walked out of the arena.

She walked down the path and found herself in a medical tent, immediately getting accosted by Madam Pomfrey.

Before the woman could shove her into a cot, Holly interrupted her fussing. “I’m fine, just magically drained and a bit sore.” Looking extremely dubious, Madam Pomfrey cast several diagnostic spells, looking more and more surprised each time.

“See? Completely fine.” Before she could get held up again she walked off to check on the other champions.

Cedric was sitting upright with a shell shocked expression on his pretty face. He was missing a bit of hair on the left side of his head and had an ear covered in burn healing paste but seemed ok.

Fleur was, somehow, looking unflappable once again with her egg under her arm and her dress slightly ruffled.

(Holly was distracted enough wondering how the hell she’d fought her dragon in a dress to forget about her veela allure.)

Krum looked completely unharmed, his usual brooding look replaced with subtle but visible relief.

Before Holly could talk to any of them she got tackle-hugged (she’d lost count how many times that was now. Was that normal?) by Sirius, Hermione right behind him, both with glistening eyes.

“Prongslet, that was brilliant! You did such a good job! That said: you’re never going to do it again, especially without my help. Also you’re grounded for not telling me your plan.”

Before she could say anything Hermione interrupted, “what does he mean you didn’t tell him?! I thought you were getting help from him when you went off to practice?”

Oh. Well then. In hindsight she should’ve guessed that’d be another one of those things a guardian would care about. Funny how that didn’t occur to her until now.

“It kinda just didn’t occur to me you’d that want to know? Sorry? At least it worked out perfectly.” Hermione and Sirius, both visibly unimpressed and furious, glanced at each other before glaring back at her.

Before they could continue the scores getting announced interrupted them. Holly, seeing her chance to escape an awkward conversation, ducked out of the tent.

Watching the scores get announced was a blatant show of favoritism. The two foreign headmasters gave high scores to their own champions and lower for everyone else. Strangely both the pudgy official and Crouch gave her an oddly high score. Dumbledore, jerk that he was, gave her a low score for collecting the dragons’ blood while also praising her for inventing a new way to humanely collect it.

By the end Krum was in first, followed by Fleur, then Holly, and Cedric in last.

After a crushing hug and making her swear to talk to him more, Sirius left Hermione and her alone. As they turned to leave Fleur approached, speaking in heavily accented English. “I wanted to thank you for the help.”

From his bed Cedric cut in, “same here Holly. Your help might’ve saved my life. I won’t forget that.”

Krum, in a shocking display of emotion, nodded at her in agreement.

‘Is their goodwill genuine or are they trying to lure me into a false sense of security? They didn’t have enough time to coordinate this response so maybe it's genuine? I guess there’s no way to know yet.’

“You guys might have questionable judgement being willing contestants in this sh*tshow but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you die.” For some reason that had them all looking surprised. With nothing else to say she nudged Hermione and started walking back to the castle.

They were almost inside when Hermione spoke up, “I'm surprised you care so much about the other champions' safety. You aren’t exactly a people person.”

“I’m not going to let a few teenagers with questionable judgement die because of wizarding bullsh*t. Besides, I’m pretty sure me being entered is an assassination attempt or a trap somehow. If someone is targeting me I won’t let anyone else get hurt as collateral damage.”

Hermione abruptly stopped walking, smiling brightly. “Holly Potter, you are such a secret hero. I can’t believe nobody has realized it.”

“That’s on purpose. Once you get better at occlumency I have a couple stories about that.”

Hermione, ever wanting to learn more, got the determined gleam in her eye that Holly was slowly learning to be wary of.

Chapter 16: Year Four (V)

Chapter Text

After the first task it was surprising how everything and nothing changed for Holly.

People still pointed and whispered about her constantly, only now it was due to her own (public) actions. A few people, either brave or foolish, approached her to congratulate her for her victory over the dragon or losing them money. Thankfully they started leaving her alone again after she hexed a boy who kept talking at her.

Hermione, acting in her self-appointed role as Holly’s interpreter of wizarding society, gave her an overview of people’s reactions a few days after the first task.

“Dragon keepers, magizoologists, and potion masters everywhere are praising you. There was a whole article in the Daily Profit about how being able to collect a dragon's blood without killing them will help their populations increase. Of course, the potion masters mostly care about how dragons blood will be cheaper, but they’re still happy.”

“Most of the school lost money betting against you so they’re not happy about that, but don’t blame you.” Hermione gave her a calculating look, “of course, if they found out you were the one to place that insane bet they’d be furious at you.”

Holly gave Hermione her best innocent expression. “Who, me? Why I’d never place a bet on myself and win hundreds of galleons from it.” Hermione rolled her eyes and continued.

“Gryffindor, especially the Weasley twins, love you. Most wouldn’t stop talking about how you should’ve been put in their house.” Hermione scoffed, “its obnoxious, even my roommates wouldn’t stop talking about you. The Slytherins seem to grudgingly respect you for manipulating the Task for your benefit. Of course, they’re not exactly happy since they lost so much money betting against you. Hufflepuff isn’t bad mouthing you anymore either since Cedric told them to stop. And Ravenclaw, well, you should already know about them.”

“Uh, why should I know that?”

Hermione looked over at her with her trademark Look. “Because it’s your own House Holly, I assume you know what they’re saying about you.”

“And when do I ever spend time with them? I don’t talk to any of them, not even my roommates. Hell, I don’t even know my roommates names.” She took a moment to think. “One of them might be Patty or something like that?”

There was a silence long enough to make Holly stop reading and look up. Hermione was simply staring at her blankly, before flatly asking, “you mean Padma?”

“Maybe? That sounds vaguely right.”

For several seconds Hermione was visibly debating saying something before seemingly dropping it and switching topics. “Any progress with the egg?”

After the task outside the castle they’d opened only to immediately be deafened by high-pitched screeching. Because of course a wizard’s idea of a clue in a deadly tournament was incomprensible screeching.

“Nope, I can’t figure out how to interpret the screeching. I know the second task has something to do with the Lake though so maybe I-“

Holly was cut off when the Room abruptly materialized a small swimming pool in front of them.

“-could put it underwater. Thanks Room, you’re still awesome” She said, patting the floor. She transfigured her clothes into a wetsuit, “well, no time like the present.”

Several minutes and one crappy riddle later Holly was ranting as she paced with Hermione watching.

“-f*cking Wizards! Is it not bad enough I got dragged into this sh*tshow, now they’re risking 4 more people’s lives without their consent? What the hell is wrong with these people?”

Hermione, having spent the last couple minutes silently listening, finally spoke up. “We don’t know if its people at all, I doubt they would involve other people in anything dangerous.”

Holly simply glared back, “you have too much faith in them. They might not intentionally try to put someone in danger but that doesn’t mean anything: they’re the same people who thought dragons were a good idea. Are you honestly willing to trust them with your life?”

Hermione, disillusioned enough to see her point, paled rapidly. “If they do take a person… I’m the only person you talk to.”

“Exactly. I'm not letting you get hurt. We’ll prepare ahead of time: we can scope out the lake beforehand, get you a bag of medical supplies, maybe even an emergency portkey.”

The Room, brilliant and helpful thing it was, dropped a book titled A Comprehensive Guide to the Black Lake in front of them. She reached down to give the floor another pat.

“Looks like we’ve got that handled. Go us.” Hermione, now looking significantly less ashen faced, smiled back at her.

Her planning for the Strengthening Elixir was going well, she already had several of the potential ingredients ready.

She’d snuck out into the Forest again and found the clearing where they’d been keeping the dragons. With a summoning charm she found plenty of shed claw fragments, a good upgrade from the standard Griffin claw used.

She figured she could upgrade the standard snake fangs to basilisk fang fragments too, so long as she neutralized the imbued venom beforehand with a phoenix tear. The resulting mix would have a far more powerful effect without changing the potions’ properties.

The Re’em blood was shockingly easy to get: she’d simply hired the goblins to catch one then personally drawn its blood.

Being filthy rich really did make life easier sometimes.

She still had some unicorn and thestral hairs. If she tied them together before adding them they’d work as an alchemically neutral amplifier element.

The Fanged Geraniumum teeth were surprisingly dangerous to get considering it was a plant. Sure, it was carnivorous, with sharp teeth and ate live prey, but still just a plant.

She’d brought Professor Sprout more of her fertilizing potion in exchange for the promise of several teeth of the Fanged Geraniumum they used it on. In hindsight it was obvious why Professor Sprout looked nervous when Holly specified which plant she wanted.

The Fanged Geraniumum they used it on exploded in size, going from the size of Holly’s head to looking capable of swallowing Professor Sprout whole.

It immediately lashed out at them, shattering a whole greenhouse wall. They fought back with cutting curses, slowly chopping off its many prehensile vines. After several minutes the two of them, now covered in scratches, stood victorious over the massive plants body.

Holly was rather happy with the outcome and wasted no time gathering its teeth. Now she had almost her own weight in a useful ingredient! She thanked Professor Sprout and promised to come back sometime soon.

Strangely enough, Professor Sprout didn’t seem so excited about her fertilizer potion after that.

Now all she needed was an arm bone and acromantula venom.

That’s how Holly found herself in a graveyard overseas, desecrating a grave by starlight.

(Sadly, somehow she was certain this wouldn’t be the last time.)

She could’ve used any human arm bone of course. She’d seriously considered finding a scumbag bodybuilder, staging an “accident”, and taking an arm from the corpse.

In the end she’d decided against it because Shadowfax would probably be able to sense it somehow and be disappointed.

Which is why she was in Iceland (after making herself an international portkey) robbing the grave of a recently dead, internationally renowned strongman.

Thankfully magic made uncovering the coffin easy. A bubblehead charm blocked out the smell as she quickly chopped off his arm, mumbled “sorry dude,” and fixed his grave before porteying back.

Hermione, to her credit, did not scream when Holly came back into the Room holding a decomposing arm. Although she did look slightly sick and wary.

After several seconds of staring at each other Hermione asked, “Holly, did you rob a grave?”

“Yep, had to find a suitable person for the arm bone, so I robbed the grave of a dead bodybuilder.” For some reason Hermione still looked disappointed. “I mean, I don’t like it either but it was either this or finding a living scumbag bodybuilder, staging an ’accident’, and taking their arm afterwards.”

Hermione, seeing her point, seemed to agree.

“Great. Now all I need is some acromantula venom, shouldn’t be too hard.” For some reason Hermione got that Look on her face again. “Its no big deal. I’ll have some safety precautions ready.”

With that she unceremoniously stored her stolen arm away and started planning.

The next night she went into the Forest, her features shifted into something nondescript, and walked towards the acromantula colony. It wasn’t too long before she started seeing the occasional spider web and felt their many eyed stares. Without stopping to look at the countless spiders now surrounding her she walked straight into the center of the colony.

Sure enough, there in the center of a clearing was a massive spider den. She watched as several huge hairy legs slowly rose and the huge body of Aragog came into sight.

Before the elderly spider could say anything she pulled out her prepared rune blocks and banished them, encircling both her and Aragog’s den. As they landed a transparent dome shield snapped into place, trapping them inside, keeping everything else out.

Thunderdome ward in place, she immediately shot an overpowered piercing hex at his forehead (was it still a forehead if it had eyes in it?). Her hex landed, causing Aragog to rear back and hiss in fury, but wasn’t enough to kill him.

She shot another piercing hex at the same spot but he moved shockingly fast, slamming a massive leg down where she’d been standing.

She rolled away, lashing out with a cutting curse at the leg, cutting a bloody gash. As Aragog stumbled she repeated the process on his other front leg, making his entire body lurch forward. Before he could recover she hit him with another piercing hex in the same spot as the first. This time her hex broke through his exoskeleton with a sickening CRACK, killing him.

His body twitched and shuddered as he (somehow) rolled onto his back before he stopped moving.

Holly immediately rushed forward, tearing at his mandibles to get at the fresh venom. Sadly there was only a couple vials worth before she’d collected all of it. She looked up to see her thunderdome ward starting to crack as countless acromantula pounded on it.

Good thing she planned ahead for that.

After quickly grabbing a good amount of acromantula silk and shoving it into her bottomless bag, she summoned her broom from within. As she mounted it a quick summoning charm brought her rune blocks flying into her waiting bag. Before any acromantula could catch her she shot up into the trees, quickly breaking through the forest canopy.

A few minutes later she walked into the room only to get assaulted by a blubbering Hermione. Holly quickly used a hand to cover her mouth. “I’m fine. Great actually. My thunderdome ward worked perfectly.”

She held up a vial of acromantula venom. “Mission success. I didn’t even get scratched!” Thankfully that had Hermione relaxing slightly.

What was great about her strength elixir was that, unlike the regenerative elixir where the core ingredient was phoenix tears, she had a dozen vials of dragon’s blood to experiment with. Enough to test many different variations but not enough for endless refining.

Still, she was grateful she’d be able to do even that much.

She could only take the elixir once, so her testing would have to be done on the standard temporary variety. Once she’d improved it as much as her limited resources allowed she’d use the last of it for her elixir.

The only other limiting ingredient was the bodybuilder’s arm, so unfortunately she’d have to use random arm bones during her test. Thankfully that wouldn’t change anything in between the test batches and the final elixir.

That night they brewed the first couple test varieties of a strength potion, with slight variations between them.

Testing them was as simple as drinking them and using Room provided weights to see maximum weight she could lift. Once she found the most potent one she’d base her second batch of potions on it, making them stronger.

Hopefully after a few rounds of refinements she could fully optimize it before using the finalized recipe in her elixir. If not, well, having a weaker elixir was better than none at all.

During breakfast the next morning Holly felt a pang of guilt when it was announced they’d be having a substitute teacher in Care for some time. According to Hermione the rumor was Hagrid was inconsolable about something. Nobody but the two of them (and probably Dumbledore, the cover-up master) knew why: he was in mourning.

Holly, in an act of compassion (and so he wouldn’t replace Aragog with something even more dangerous), went down to Hagrid’s hut and gave him her mini Hungarian Horntail dragon. Hagrid turned into even more of a blubbering mess and gave her a hug that probably cracked a few bones. Thankfully he was quickly distracted with the tiny dragon allowing Holly to make her escape.

When she came back into the Room with her clothes rumpled, hair soaked with Hagrid’s tears, Hermione simply gave her a knowing smile.

Of course, that wasn’t the only side effect of Aragog being killed.

When Holly went into the Forest again to visit Shadowfax she wasn’t far in before she heard skittering legs rapidly approaching. A second later the first acromantula appeared only for Holly to easily kill it with a cutting curse. Then another appeared. And another. And several more.

Soon enough there was a wave of countless acromantula approaching her. Knowing she didn’t stand a chance, she cut down the closest ones, summoned her broom from a pocket, and flew off.

Safely above the Forest’s canopy she took a moment to think.

‘So the acromantula are swarming the Forest attacking humans now? They never did that before. Why would their behavior change with Aragog dead?’ A second later the answer hit her: ‘Aragog must’ve ordered them not to attack people. With him dead… it’ll be my fault if anyone gets hurt.’

Once she landed she wrote a quick letter to the Goblins telling them about the acromantula colony. She knew they’d jump at the chance: they were plenty capable and such a large colony would be almost invaluable with that much acromantula silk and venom.

Letter sent, Holly was confident her mess would be cleaned up quickly and quietly.

Sure enough, a couple days later the Goblins sent her a response saying the acromantula colony was exterminated and that they’d put a portion of the profits and collected ingredients into her vault.

Holly smiled, Goblins really were so helpful.

During her next Care class the substitute teacher took them to the edge of the Forest for a surprise lecture on unicorns.

As the girls (apparently unicorns were sexist? Or maybe it was because of their recent bad experience with Adult Tom?) approached the unicorns one of them broke forward to gently butt her with the side of his head.

She gave him a full hug around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. “Hey Shadowfax, nice to see you too. Things been good for you?” He snorted, “sorry the Forest was a mess. Hope it didn’t bother you.” That earned her another snort as he bumped her again.

Suddenly she noticed the dead silence from everyone else. She turned around to see the entire class and professor (excluding an amused looking Hermione) staring at her.

“What? I thought we were supposed to be interacting with them?” Seriously, she was only following instructions.

The substitute professor cleared her throat, “are you acquainted with this unicorn?”

Oh sh*t, she was trying to get Holly in trouble for exploring the Forest. She couldn’t exactly admit they met before.

“I cannot confirm or deny any past association with this unicorn.” Next to her Shadowfax snorted while Hermione facepalmed.

Refusing to incriminate herself further, she turned back to Shadowfax, conjured a brush, and began brushing out his coat. His short coat was pristine and clearly didn’t need brushing but she had the feeling he liked it.

Behind her she heard the class slowly start moving as they (hopefully) stopped staring. Thankfully nobody bothered her and the rest of class went quickly.

It was a few days later in Transfiguration Holly abruptly had her world flipped on end. Professor McGonnagal announcing the Yule ball didn’t seem like anything worth noting. At least, not until Professor McGonnagal told her she was forced to go as a champion.

With a date.

Her resulting internal panic must’ve lasted some time because by the time she managed to focus again Professor McGonnagal was looking concerned.

“I was already entered into this tournament against my will, Professor, now I’m being forced into going to a dance too?”

Professor McGonnagal, stern as ever, didn’t look sympathetic. “Traditionally the champions and their partners open the Ball.”

Holly could only stare back in horror at the thought of being forced to parade herself around at a wizard ball with a partner.

“And if I don’t go?”

Professor McGonnagal somehow managed to look even more stern. “It is expected as a representative of our school. Your absence would reflect back onto your House, Hogwarts, and the entire country. Are you willing to embarrass the entire country because you do not wish to dance?”

“Yes?” It felt like a trick question but Holly wasn’t sure why she was supposed to care about those things. Did Professor McGonnagal think she actually cared about wizarding society?

For some reason Professor McGonnagal looked furious. “While I am not your Head of House I imagine Professor Flitwick would issue punishments for not attending. Detentions or such.”

‘sh*t, detentions would stop me from being able to prepare for the task or work on my elixir. Guess I really am being forced to go. Hopefully its not a trap.’

“Fine. I’ll be there.”

Professor McGonnagal’s expression shifted into something slightly softer. “Good. Best of luck with the Second Task, miss Potter.”

At least her foul mood was improved by brewing her Strength Elixir. After 2 weeks and a dozen small tweaks her recipe was finally optimized.

(For some reason Hermione was baffled it’d taken her 2 weeks to finish the elixirs’ development. Maybe Hermione thought she was slacking since the first elixir only took a week?)

Same as the first time, Holly and Hermione stayed up to the early hours of the morning brewing. Once they finished and stepped back to examine their work.

Her elixir, well, she wasn’t exactly sure how to describe it. It was a bit thicker in consistency and had a multicolor swirling design like fire. If fire also had flashes of seemingly random colors.

“Well, bottoms up take two” and with that Holly chugged the elixir.

Her first sign of a change was how her gold cauldron suddenly seemed to weigh several times less.

Experimentally she held it in her left hand as she used her wand to fill it with water. She felt a slight increase in weight as it filled but even completely full it felt lighter then before.

“Huh, I think we can safely say it worked. Now we just need to do some tests tomorrow to check my new strength.”

Hermione, instead of her usual Look when she did something, looked suspiciously amused. She smirked, “magical people all seem to abhor physical exercise. You might be the strongest person in the school now and nobody would ever expect it since, you know, you’re tiny.”

Just like that Holly was filled with pride and hugged Hermione. “That’s brilliant! If my strength ever becomes public I’ll start a betting pool and challenge people to arm wrestling! I’ll even split the money with you.”

Hermione, surprisingly, said nothing.

At least, it was surprising until Holly let go and saw the girl had been turning purple.

“Sorry. I guess we should probably focus on getting my strength under control. I’d rather not break everything I own.”

Even recovering from accidentally being choked, Hermione looked amused at the idea. Which was a good sign, or at least Holly thought so. It seemed Hermione really did care about her.

Chapter 17: Year Four (VI)

Chapter Text

In the days after the dance was announced Holly started noticing how many boys were staring at her weirdly. Anytime she looked back they’d blush and rapidly look away. Bringing it up to Hermione had her receiving a Look.

“Holly,” she explained slowly, “those boys probably are considering asking you to the Ball. Everyone knows you only talk to me and that you certainly don’t have a date yet. Your reputation is the only thing holding them off. It could be worse: Fleur Delacour has been getting approached by boys nonstop about the Ball since it was announced.”

Over the next few days it was obvious Hermione was right. After the first boy, whose name she didn’t even know, asked her to the dance it opened the floodgates. Suddenly she was constantly being approached by boys she didn’t think she’d even seen before asking to go together to the dance.

At least it gave her a chance to use her new strength: when one boy put a hand on her shoulder she judo flipped him.

Holly hadn’t seen him again since.

Back in the Room Holly was enjoying the break from wannabe dance partners and complaining to Hermione. “I’ve never even spoken to any of them! I don’t even know their names or faces! Why would they want to go with me?”

Without bothering to look up she answered. “Holly, I may not be gay but even I can recognize you’re one of the more attractive girls in year. Add in your fame and prodigal talent and this is the result. I imagine nearly any single boy would be willing to go with you. Maybe even a few girls too.”

“Well sh*t.” Only, that phrasing sparked a potential solution for her. “I don’t suppose you’d want to go together as friends?”

Hermione looked apologetic, “sorry but I was already asked by Neville Longbottom.”

“The Herbology prodigy? Good for you. Guess I need to find someone else that’s tolerable then.”

At least adjusting to her newfound strength was going well.

The first day after taking her elixir Holly spent every free moment in the Room learning to control her strength with simple tasks: cardio exercise, taking on and off a buttoned shirt, and practicing grip strength.

Thankfully she was able to adjust quickly: magic was intent after all. If she wanted to use her enhanced strength she had to want to apply more force. After a couple days she was able to give a wary-looking Hermione a tight hug without hurting her.

She didn’t have perfect control yet, but she wouldn’t be accidently break anyone or anything. Hopefully she’d continue to improve with time.

Why couldn’t finding someone tolerable be that easy?

It was a few days later when the universe seemed to hear desperate pleas.

Holly and Hermione were walking out of the great hall when they saw the youngest Weasley boy shout out his invitation to the dance at Fleur. Not even a second later he blushed, stammered out something incomprehensible, and stumbled away with someone supporting him. Specticle finished, the crowd quickly dispersed leaving an annoyed looking Fleur alone.

Holly, in a stroke of brilliance (or veela allure) saw the answer to all her problems. Hermione, clearly seeing what was about to happen, hissed at her to stop but Holly shrugged her off.

She walked right up to Fleur (seemingly) all calm and collected, and asked in French “having fun trying to find a date?”

Fleur, clearly frustrated, responded flatly. “No. They are only interested because of my allure or because they see me as a prize. Unfortunately, I have to find a date soon and they know it.”

“I’m having a similar problem as you. I have an idea for how to solve our problems and prank them at the same time if you’re interested.”

Fleur looked down at her (dammit, she was still so much shorter) in amusem*nt,”Oh? What is it.”

“Imagine the look on their faces if we went to the dance together.”

For a second Fleur froze in shock before she doubled over laughing. Eventually she managed to stop and smiled a cheshire grin, “I think that’s an excellent idea. We’ll have to talk later so we can coordinate.”

Fleur quickly bent down and kissed both her cheeks before walking off without looking back.

Holly dumbly stood there touching her checks where Fleur kissed them. Hermione walked up beside her, smiling. “That went better than I expected. Framing it as a prank was a good idea.”

Holly, of course, was still too shocked to process what she said. Eventually Hermione rolled her eyes and dragged her back to the Room. It wasn’t until they were back inside Holly managed to get her brain working again.

Naturally, the first thing she did was panic.

“Did I really just ask Fleur to the dance and she agreed? How the hell did I manage that? Why did I even do that?” (“Veela allure and a crush” an unheard Hermione muttered) “My dress isn’t nice enough to go with her! I don’t want her to look bad standing next to me!”

Hermione, seeing her friend panicking, attempted to interview. “Holly, you two are going to be fine. Your dress is very nice and I’m sure Fleur will like it. Calm down.”

“Its nice but not nice enough Hermione! I have to get a new one. I have a bunch of acromantula silk, if I pay extra I can rush order a dress made out of it.” Completely ignoring a sputtering Hermione, she ran out of the Room and didn’t stop until she’d apparated to Diagon Alley.

Finding a dress shop that’d accept her rush order wasn’t going well until she started taking out handfuls of acromantula silk. After that a tailor was surprisingly eager to help. After giving her specifications and getting her measurements taken she apparated back.

Finally back in the Room she found an anxious looking Hermione waiting for her. “Good news: I found a shop that accepted my order. Now Fleur won’t hate me for making her look bad.”

“I really don’t think it matters Holly, you’ll look good no matter what.” She scoffed, “damn shapeshifter. At least you’ll never have to worry about buck teeth.”

Seeing Hermione looking insecure, all hunched over and folded in on herself sparked a weird feeling in her stomach.

She didn’t like it.

This kinda felt like one of those important moments where she should say something meaningful.

“I think your teeth only define who you are if you want them to. They have power over you because you give it to them.”

Hermione, clearly taken off guard, looked up at her in shock. “Holly, tha- that was rather profound. And shockingly insightful.”

Task of cheering Hermione up complete, Holly smiled at her. “If you want I could shrink your teeth but make sure it's because you want it, not because of others’ expectations. Just let me know.”

Smiling and dabbing at her eyes, Hermione promised to think her offer over.

Sadly, having a date didn’t seem to discourage boys from still asking Holly to the dance. She’d hope word would spread after she told the first few but clearly it hadn’t.

After the latest boy didn’t leave her alone until she threatened him, she asked Hermione. For some reason her question earned her a Look.

“They probably don’t believe you actually have a date. Or maybe they think you’re planning on skipping. It’s not important Holly, the Ball is less than a week away.”

Despite Hermione urging patience, Holly was rapidly losing it. She couldn’t walk down the hallways, sit in class, or even eat her meals without someone trying to ask her to the dance.

It was bad enough she was seriously considering using her shapeshifting to impersonate someone until it was over.

Clearly, it was time for Extreme Measures.

The next day, in a moment that would become infamous, Holly finally snapped when she was asked out again in the hallway.

The annoying blond boy, Draino Maffle or something like that, didn’t seem to care that she already had a date. When he started yelling at her she knew this was the perfect chance for Extreme Measures.

She walked up to him until they were chest to chest, not breaking eye contact. Right as he started blushing she kneed him in the crotch.

Hard.

As collapsed to his knees while holding his bits, she punched him across the face, instantly knocking him out. After he collapsed facedown she stepped onto his back, using him as an improvised soapbox in front of the crowd of stunned bystanders.

“Since you people don’t seem to believe me I want to make this clear: I. Already. Have. A. Date. The next person who asks me out is getting hurt worse than this guy.”

Message delivered, she stepped off her human soapbox and walked off, leaving the stunned bystanders behind.

Holly wasn’t bothered again after that.

Hermione, when she heard the story, nearly fell over laughing. After several minutes of hysterical laughter she finally managed to stop long enough to explain.

“Holly, Draco Malfoy is one of the most foul and entitled people in this school. He’s the embodiment of everything you hate about wizards. And you, completely by random, picked him to use as a soapbox.”

Hermione dissolved into a fit of laughter again after that and Holly couldn’t exactly blame her.

Without the constant bombardment of hopeful boys her days passed by faster after that.

She picked up her dress two days before the dance, and, after minor tweaks, was satisfied enough to pay the tailor a healthy bonus.

Soon enough it was the day of the dance. Classes were more useless than ever as the professors knew nobody was paying attention and let them go early.

In the Room, both Holly and Hermione started getting ready hours beforehand. While Hermione was losing her mind trying to use some wizarding hair product to straighten her, Holly sat in front of a mirror.

Holly had never actually used makeup before. Never had a reason to. Never wanted to. Which meant she didn’t have the slightest idea how to use it now.

Good thing she had an easy solution to that.

Instead of makeup, she instead shapeshifted herself into having the illusion of it.

She turned her cheeks slightly blushed (totally not so she could hide her real blushes later), she willed her hair straight and put in a French braid (hopefully Fleur would find that funny), turned her lips slightly pink, her eyes lined and shadowed the same dark blue of her dress.

Her dress was simple: dark blue with a high neckline, slightly loose long sleeves (great for hiding a wand arm holster), and falling to her shins with a slit so she could still run. It was shockingly comfortable, magic resistant enough to protect her well, and easy to move in. It even had hidden pockets!

It was an understatement to say she rather liked it.

She didn’t like her heels as much. Sure, they had cushioning charms and a hidden stiletto dagger she’d transfigured, but they made her balance feel slightly off. Thankfully, after her practice earlier in the week she felt almost normal walking in them.

Dance makeover complete with hours to spare, Holly looked over to Hermione who was still furiously struggling with her hair.

“You, uh, want some help with that?”

Hermione, hands still in her hair, managed to give a surprisingly effective death glare. “Holly, not all of us are shapeshifters. Some of us have to struggle to look good.”

“I think you normally look good.” She shrugged, looking over at a slightly blushing Hermione. “Now how can I help?”

A few hours, two shrunken front teeth, and a shocking amount of effort later, the two of them walked down to meet their dates.

She watched as a gobsmacked Neville came to greet Hermione, blushing like mad, and stuttered out a greeting. After hugging him Hermione turned back and looked between them, “Neville, I’m sure you’ve heard of Holly. Holly, you know about Neville.”

Neville, if possible, somehow looked more nervous as they shook hands. “You- you know about me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re a Herbology prodigy, by far the best in our year. That reminds me: lemme know if you ever want to buy some of my custom fertilizer potion.”

Neville looking awed and slightly afraid, asked “is that what grew the Fanged Geranium that destroyed greenhouse 4?”

“Mhmm. Worked out great, I got my own weight in Fanged Geranium teeth from that.”

For some reason that didn’t seem to reassure Neville. Before Hermione could intervene, she stepped in to make her move.

As she pretended to adjust Neville’s necktie, she projected her voice into his mind, 'if you hurt her feelings you’ll wake up naked, wandless, and alone in the middle of nowhere. Got it?'

Neville’s only response was a quiet whimper as he paled rapidly. “There, looks like you’ve got it.” She grinned at Neville’s terrified face. “Nice to meet you Neville. I’ll see you two later, I’ve got a hot date to find.”

With that she walked off, leaving a terrified Neville and suspicious Hermione behind.

As Neville watched Holly Potter disappear into the crowd Hermione leaned in closer to him. “Whatever she said I’m sure she didn’t mean. She’s secretly a massive softie.”

Neville, terrified and with trembling legs, stared back at Hermione in complete disbelief.

“Trust me, she’s only intimidating until you get to know her. After that it’s obvious she’s exceptionally caring and protective.”

“Exceptionally caring and protective? Tha-that’s nice. N- not terrifying at all.” Oh Merlin, he was so dead. Why didn’t he think beforehand about how Hermione was best friends with Holly Potter?

“Glad you see it. I’m sure you two could become good friends if you tried.”

Neville, having nothing he could possibly say to that, decided it was time to lead Hermione into the Hall.

And swore to never, ever do something to anger Holly Potter.

Holly meanwhile was looking around for Fleur when she suddenly spotted her walking down the stairs. Blocking out the Veela allure by fully raising her occlumency barriers, Holly quickly approached her, desperately trying to keep her eyes up off of Fleur’s silver satin dress.

Once she was close she smiled widely, “you look amazing Fleur, I love your dress.”

Fleur smiled back at her (dear god was she attractive, that smile was unfair), “Thank you Holly, I should be saying the same thing.” She held out one elbow, “shall we?”

Taking Fleur’s arm, they walked towards the hall, completely ignoring the blatant stares of everyone in sight.

‘Oh f*ck, this is really happening. Stay calm Holly, you can do this. You can. Think of this as just an extreme occlumency stress test. Not a dance with the most beautiful girl you’ve ever talked to, just occlumency practice. You-‘

“So where did you get your dress Holly?” She looked over to see Fleur examining her sleeve.

“Oh, I custom ordered it after I asked you to the dance. It was a bit tough to find someone who’d take the rush order but some acromantula silk and galleons later I think it turned out nice.”

She didn’t think it was a big deal but clearly Fleur disagreed because she stopped and turned to stare directly at her.

“Acromantula silk? This is acromantula silk?! How did you afford so much?”

Holly shrugged, “I actually already had the silk from something else, so it was free. I only paid for the tailoring and rush order.”

For some reason Fleur was still stunned, “…you already had it?”

‘Oh sh*t, I probably shouldn’t outright admit to Fleur I went into the Forest to kill Aragog. Or… maybe she’d find it impressive? Hmm, when in doubt: plausible deniability.’

She leaned to whisper, “hypothetically, I recently fought an elderly acromantula for other reasons. The silk was a side benefit.”

“…Hypothetically.” For some reason Fleur looked absolutely shell shocked. Were acromantula really considered that dangerous?

(Watching in the distance, Hermione felt pity for Fleur Delacour as she watched Holly unintentionally overwhelm Fleur with her Holly-ness.)

“Mhmm. What isn’t hypothetical is that after I asked you to accompany me I had this dress rush ordered because my old one wasn’t nice enough to stand next to you with.”

That managed to snap Fleur out of her surprise. “You thought you needed an acromantula silk dress to accompany me here?"

“Well yeah, I didn’t want to embarasses you by looking awful in comparison to you.” Before Fleur could speak she continued, “and no, it's not your allure. I’m skilled enough at occlumency to block it out. You’re still beautiful without its effects.”

Fleur’s blank expression of shock slowly shifted into a sheepish smile. “Thank you Holly. That means a lot to me. Now, maybe we should stop holding up the crowd?”

Sure enough, the entire crowd was still staring at them in rapt attention. They were staring as if the two of them were a slow and (on Fleur’s part) devastatingly beautiful trainwreck. Mixing those metaphors made it a bit weird but there was really no other way to describe it.

With a slight pull on their interlocked arms Fleur got them walking again. “You know,” Holly started, “I’ve never really paid attention to if gay people are accepted in wizarding society. Do you know anything about that?”

Fleur snorted, somehow making it sound elegant, “It’s somewhat accepted in France but certainly less so here in Britain with your blood purity ideology. While magic makes it possible for non-traditional couples to have biological children through blood adoption, it’s still stigmatized.”

“Well that’s bullsh*t, sh*t like that is why I don’t respect wizarding society. At least right now it helps us mess with them even more.”

Fleur smirked back at her, “exactly.”

Just then they were interrupted by Professor McGonagall calling for the champions to gather. To her credit the Professor only did a double take when she realized she and Fleur were together before giving them their orders to wait outside the doors.

Waiting around she saw Cedric with a pretty girl clinging to his arm, standing rather close. He looked rather happy, smiling when they made eye contact. His date (or maybe girlfriend?) however was giving a slightly jealous look towards Fleur.

Behind them she saw Krum with a pretty girl she didn’t recognize. He didn’t look particularly happy, even by his standards, while the girl clung to his arm possessively and glared at them all. That certainly didn’t look like the makings of a good night.

A couple minutes later they were called in to parade themselves in front of the wizard masses.

As Holly and Fleur names were called out she felt countless stares fall on them and whispers breaking out. There were even a few quiet jeers that were quickly silenced.

Ignoring it all, they sat down at their table along with the headmasters and bureaucrats.

Which, to say they didn’t seem like good conversation partners was an understatement. Hopefully they wouldn’t pay any attention to her.

Unfortunately it took less than a second for her hopes to be crushed. The moment they were all settled in, Dumbledore spoke up, “Ah Holly, I’ve been meaning to congratulate you for your invention of a better method for collecting the dragon's blood. I daresay it will lead to discoveries greater than my own. Shame I had to take points away in the First Task for violating the spirit of the Task.”

‘Oh no, is he actually going to try and talk to me? Hopefully I can brush him off.’ She couldn’t exactly keep her eyes on his beard while he was sitting down so instead she focused on Fleur in her periphery.

“Thanks headmaster.” Not saying anything else she looked down to her surprisingly still empty plate. Was he stalling the food being served just to talk to her?

Dumbledore continued, seemingly not discouraged for some reason. “I’ve read your articles on some rather interesting potion modifications. Fascinating work. I even received several letters from my old colleague Horace Slughorn, the former potions professor here, saying he would love to be able to teach you.”

‘Wait, is Snape sharing my papers with him? What the hell? Is he trying to draw Dumbledore’s attention to annoy me?’

“Oh, well, professor Slughorn will be disappointed since I’m planning on taking my potions NEWT this year.”

There was a pause long enough Holly risked looking directly at Dumbledore, seeing his surprised expression.

“Are you certain you wish to? The Tournament will take most of your time to prepare for. We all agreed to cancel exams for the champions knowing that.”

‘That bastard, he’s challenging me just like Snape did. Just you wait old man, just you wait.’

“I’ll be fine. I have no intention of dying in this tournament no matter what traps are undoubtedly waiting for me.” Point made, she turned to face a surprised Fleur. “So what is Beaubaxtons like?”

Fleur, seeing her abrupt conversation change and playing along, launched into a long-winded explanation about the differences between Beaubaxtons and Hogwarts. After a couple minutes of Fleur’s intentionally melodramatic complaints about Hogwarts being cold, she felt Dumbledore’s eyes leave her and he demonstrated how to summon food.

Fleur summoned herself a French dish while Holly ordered alfredo pasta. After the first bite it was hard not to eat too quickly. She’d realized she’d loved the stuff while passing through Italy and hadn’t had any in years.

She might’ve failed at that because Fleur seemed amused looking at her. With a glance to make sure Dumbledore was distracted, she leaned in to whisper, “I visited Italy once and realized I love alfredo while there. This is the first time I’ve had any since then.”

Fleur nodded, “ah, I see. The food in this country is rather plain, no? Have you been to any other countries then?”

Oh sh*t, she couldn’t exactly confirm that. Plus, Dumbledore was right there, if he overheard he’d have questions.

Thankfully magic had an easy answer.

With a flick of her finger Holly cast a subtle sound barrier so nobody else at the table could hear them. When the surrounding noise cut off Fleur looked around before snapping back to look back at her in shock. “Wandless magic? Very impressive.”

Fighting her blush, she did her best to meet Fleur’s gaze. “I’d rather not have Dumbledore overhear. It’s a secret but I’ve been to most countries in Europe. That’s why I speak French, Bulgarian, and some other languages.”

“Oh? How many languages?”

Holly shrugged, “Couple dozen maybe? I wasn’t exactly counting.”

For some reason Fleur froze, dropping her fork in shock. A new fork instantly appeared in her hand but she didn’t seem to notice. “You- you’ve learned a couple dozen languages? Fluently? How is that possible?”

“I’m good at learning things quickly. That reminds me: do you want to lead or should I?”

Fleur, blinking silently, took a few seconds to respond. “…Are you as good at dancing as you are at languages?”

“Maybe? I’ve watched a couple dance lessons but never practiced with someone.” Which was true, in a manner of speaking.

She had watched dance lessons earlier that week. Only, she was there to find suitable scumbags to steal their knowledge of dancing from. It had taken watching a few different couples’ dance lessons but eventually she’d found a married couple that abused their children. After ripping out their useful memories, she’d tipped off the police and spent the last few nights practicing her new dance moves in heels.

She wasn’t an expert but her skill in dancing had shot up from nonexistent to (hopefully) good enough.

“Why do I get the feeling you tend to understate things?” Fleur smirked, “I can lead if you want, but I’m sure you’ll do great either way.”

‘Oh god, is she teasing me? Or is that a challenge? Or am I overthinking things? f*ck it, I’ll just do my best.’

Dropping her ward, she endured awkward conversation for far too long afterwards. Several times she was rescued by the other champions interrupting the headmasters' attempted interrogations of her. Giving them all a thankful nod, she resolved to help them out again in the upcoming task. And to call Viktor by his first name, it was the least she could do.

Finally, dinner ended and it was time for them to open the dance. Taking Fleur’s arm, she led them onto the dance floor. As the music started she stepped in closer, placed a hand on Fleur’s hip, and started leading them in a waltz.

She hadn’t noticed it earlier but with her heels and shapeshifting taller she was much closer to being the same height as Fleur. Not that being face to face was helping her focus.

After a song or two Holly relaxed her tense posture. Only, Fleur leaned in to whisper, “I knew you were understating your skill at dancing.” Just like that any semblance of calm Holly had vanished.

Well, she could play the teasing game too.

The next upbeat in the music she took the opportunity to surprise Fleur with a lift maneuver, making her eyes go wide in shock. Which was understandable really: Holly certainly didn’t look strong enough for that.

That didn’t stop Holly from laughing at Fleur’s reaction though. Thankfully Fleur wasn’t offended, instead looking amused.

Holly wasn’t sure how many songs they danced for. They kept going, song after song, until the music style changed, dragging her back into reality.

Suddenly she was aware they’d been dancing nonstop for at least an hour. Her feet were killing her, cushioning charms having weakened. Even Fleur looked slightly winded.

“You want to cool down outside?”

At Fleur’s nod she linked their arms and led them outside, walking until they found an empty bench to sit on.

After a moment of comfortable silence Fleur spoke up, “this has been more fun than I dared hope for. When the Ball was announced I knew I’d be hounded by boys, I had resigned myself to finding a tolerable one.” Fleur smiled at her, “you have been far better than tolerable company Holly.”

“Now that’s some high praise. Consider me flattered.” She tried for sarcastic but her blush made it painfully obvious it was true.

Fleur laughed, “between being excellent company and your help with the First Task I feel I own you. I was serious when I said you might’ve saved my life.”

‘What the hell am I supposed to say to that? I guess the truth?’

“I meant what I said too: you shouldn’t get killed because the tournament organizers are incompetent. I mean, would you have entered if you knew beforehand about the dragon? Plus, If I’m being honest, I think me being entered is an assassination attempt. Either naturally from the tasks or directly at some point. I won’t let you or the others get hurt as collateral damage because of me.”

Looking back at Fleur and saw her shocked expression. Eventually Fleur said, “I thought we were going to be protecting you but here you are trying to protect us.” Fleur chuckled, “I bet you already solved the egg clue too.”

“Err, yeah, but I had some help. By the way: I’m pretty sure what they’re going to take from us are people. Seems like the kinda bullsh*t they’d do.”

Fleur, clearly seeing her point, paled rapidly. “…And if they do take someone close to us… the person I’m closest to is my little sister, Gabrielle. If they hurt my sister, I- I need to talk to Madam Maxine.”

Looking like some combination of murderously angry and terrified, Fleur stood up abruptly. She took a single step before abruptly turning back around and giving Holly a crushing hug.

“Thank you for the excellent night Holly. I'm sorry to end it abruptly like this but I need to tell them Gabrielle is off limits.” Fleur released her only to immediately kiss both her cheeks, making her blush madly. “Goodnight Holly, take care.”

With that Fleur powerwalked away, a furious woman with a mission, leaving Holly standing dumbly in the empty garden.

After taking an embarrassingly long time to start functioning again Holly walked back into the hall, arriving just in time to see Fleur leaving with Madam Maxine. Looking around she spotted Hermione and Neville sitting at a table and made her way over to them.

Neville, seeing her first, paled rapidly. Seems like he was taking her warning seriously ('good, that's solid proof he isn't an idiot'). Following his gaze Hermione turned to see her approaching and smiled at her.

“You two having a good night?”

Hermione nodded, smiling at Neville. “I enjoyed myself. Thank you for asking me, Neville.”

Neville, having shrunk in his chair and looking like he was trying to apparate away, smiled back weakly. “M-me too.”

“Excellent. You ready to go to Hermione or do you want to stay for a bit longer?”

After letting them say their goodbyes Holly led them back to the Room. With their heels already off they both flopped down onto couches, groaning in relief.

“You sure looked like you were having a good time with Fleur. But what happened there at the end?”

“Oh that? Fleur realized that if they take someone from her for the task it’d be her little sister.”

Hermione paused, “now that explains why she looked furious. Anything else?”

“Fleur liked my dress. Was surprised about it being acromantula silk for some reason.” Holly shrugged, “that’s about it. Anyways, I think I’m going to crash-“

Before Holly could finish her sentence a lavish bedroom, door already hanging open, appeared in front of her.

"-here for the night.” She bent down to give the Room a pat. “Goodnight Hermione.”

With that she walked in, closing the door behind her. She quickly stripped off her dress, shifted her face back to normal, conjured herself some pj’s, and climbed into the bed. Exhausted, she fell asleep in seconds.

Chapter 18: Year Four (VII)

Chapter Text

Holly’s Christmas break started, as with many things involving other people, her forgetting something important.

Namely, getting on the train to leave for break.

Holly didn’t realize this until she got a mirror call from Sirius who’d apparently been waiting at Kings Cross for her.

“-where are you? I know I didn’t explicitly ask but obviously you’re invited to Potter Manor for break. It’s your own manor.” Sirius paused for a moment before backtracking, “you don’t have to visit. It’s fine. I’ll just, uh, owl your gifts up to you and-“

“Sirius, its fine, I’ll see you in a few minutes.” She hung up on a sputtering Sirius and, after sneaking out of Hogwarts, apparated to Potter Manor.

Inside she quickly found a panicking Sirius who was still trying to contact her with his mirror. “Hey Sirius.”

Without looking up from his mirror he answered, “not now Prongslet, I’m still trying to reach you. Why aren’t you answering?” Another beat passed before he processed his own words and his head snapped up to look at her.

“Holly? How did you get here? Have you been sneaking out of the castle?”

Holly smiled, “ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies. Now I believe you said something about inviting me for the holidays?”

Sirius, the complete sap, couldn’t exactly stay angry at the prospect of spending time together.

After almost burying her alive in gifts (mostly rare advanced potions book again for some reason?), he sat back with a knowing smile on his face.

“So Holly, did you see the Daily Prophet today?”

Oh no, that smirk can’t mean anything good. “…No?”

Sirius nodded, trying and failed to hide his amusem*nt with mock seriousness. “It was covering the Yule Ball, you see. Primarily the champions and their dates.” He tossed her the paper, the front page dominated by a large moving picture of her and Fleur dancing together.

Sure enough, there was Fleur softly smiling at her, looking devastatingly beautiful, while Holly herself was dumbly smiling back.

Which, well, anyone with a brain could look at that picture and see the obvious. She hadn’t exactly cared about hiding it, but it looks like she hadn’t come out of the closet so much as she'd burst out like the Kool-Aid man.

‘So that’s where he’s going with this. Good thing I have the perfect distraction and justification for him.’

“After the dance was announced both Fleur and I were constantly being asked out by annoying boys. So I asked Fleur if she wanted to go together to prank everyone who annoyed us. She agreed.” Holly smirked, “you should have seen their faces.”

For a few seconds Sirius was shocked into silence before he started laughing hysterically. He eventually managed to stop, sitting up and wiping his eyes. “That’s brilliant Prongslet, I’m proud of you.”

Holly smiled back, ignoring the twisting feelings of guilt.

“By the way, I have an actual present for you: I ordered a pensieve from Gringotts. Should be here in a few days.”

It was a complete lie: in the excitement of the dance she'd completely forgotten to get Sirius a present. Hopefully the goblins wouldn’t mind the rush order if she gave them a bonus tip.

Before Sirius could complain she continued, “don’t worry about the cost. You’re not to only stupid rich one here. Plus, you know I’ll be using it too. Its really more of a backhanded gift to myself. Now come on, I haven't gotten to play any video games in months.”

After two weeks of video games, movie binging, being fussed over by Sirius, and general relaxation later, Holly was riding the train back to Hogwarts. Unsurprisingly, Hermione somehow managed to find her.

After catching up Hermione asked what was clearly on her mind, “do you have another quote unquote Great Idea for the Second Task?”

“First of all, the sarcasm is completely uncalled for. My plan for the dragon was great and worked perfectly.” Hermione visibly bit her lip and started turning red faced trying not to say something contrary.

Which made no sense, her plan had been great.

“Second, we’ll do the obvious and make a timed portkey. Time it so that just after the task starts you'll pop up somewhere close. I can wait for that to work and if it doesn’t I’ll play knight in shining armor and rescue you.”

Hermione looked pensieve, “it couldn’t be that easy, could it?”

“Hermione, you’re forgetting something: wizards are idiots. I bet a summoning charm would’ve worked in the first task.”

For some reason that had Hermione struck dumb, silently trying to speak but no words coming out. After a moment her head fell into her hands and she groaned into them.

“Cheer up Hermione, we’ve got over 2 months until the next task. That’s tons of time and I’ve got an idea I think you’ll love for how to spend it.”

Hermione lifted her head from her hands slowly, looking wary.

“Hypothetically, how would you feel about duplicating Hogwarts library for yourself?”

Hermione’s expression shifted through several emotions rapidly, from disapproval to curiosity before she settled on looking doubtful.

“But all wizarding books have protections against against duplication and don’t last forever. Plus it sounds illegal.”

“Oh? And if I told you, hypothetically, I found ways around the first two problems?”

Hermione looked pensieve, “…it’d still be illegal.”

Holly scoffed, “and that’s enough to stop you from making your own personal copy of Hogwarts’s library?”

That had Hermione’s expression quickly shifting to longing.

“Well, like I said, we’ve got over 2 months. I bet you could make yourself your own personal library in that time. I’ll even enchant an expanded trunk for you.” That earned her an outright squeal and a crushing hug.

Just like that, she knew how they’d be spending the upcoming months.

Sadly she had something else to do first. The moment they arrived at Hogwarts she immediately started searching for Fleur.

When she found Fleur she didn’t even need to say anything, Fleur seemed to already know what she was planning. Together they tracked down the other champions and told them Holly’s suspicions about the egg clue.

Neither reacted well, with Cedric paleing rapidly while Viktor scowled, but both still thanked them.

Task complete, Fleur offered to study with her, kissed both her cheeks, and walked off before Holly could form a response.

After standing there for longer then she’d admit she went to the Room. Now was as good of a time as any to teach Hermione how to duplicate books.

And if she was using that as a distraction from a certain blond? That was nobody’s business but hers.

As Holly predicted, over the next 2 months the two of them duplicated a lot of books. Once she’d finished teaching Hermione the cursebreaking and runes required, the girl began duplicating books like no tomorrow. After months of Hermione’s nonstop efforts she quickly filled the provided expanded trunk and Holly was forced to make it bottomless and promised to start thinking about how to reverse engineer her mother’s Trunk library system for Hermione’s library.

The resulting crushing hug and kiss on the cheek from Hermione made Holly blush almost as badly as Fleur.

Naturally, she denied it completely afterwards no matter how much Hermione teased her.

At least Shadowfax didn’t tease her like that. Or at least, not verbally. She was certain he laughed at her sometimes.

After that Care class with the unicorns Hagrid had come back, so she couldn’t exactly see Shadowfax unless she went into the Forest. Once or twice a week she’d sneak out to see him. She enjoyed her walks alone in the Forest collecting ingredients. It was peaceful, a chance to leave her constant planning behind and enjoy the moment.

Several times she took a nap against a tree in the clearing where she originally met Shadowfax, only to wake up with his head in her lap like a lapdog. Who knew unicorns were cuddly?

Not always, but often during her trips to visit Shadowfax she stopped to visit Luna by the thestrals. The girl was still odd as ever but surprisingly good company. Which was rather impressive considering she could usually be found in the woods feeding bloody chunks of meat to (supposed) omens of death.

She tried not to think about where the meat came from. Hopefully Luna didn’t have enemies because that girl could probably feed their corpses to the thestrals with a cheery smile.

Professor Moody and Sirius’s instruction was showing results too. Now she could give Sirius a decent challenge, even if she couldn’t beat him. Of course, professor Moody could easily beat her and she knew that wasn’t changing anytime soon. That man (quite literally) had more combat experience than was healthy.

In her free time between duplicating books, training, studying with Fleur (they were constantly interrupted by Gabrielle, that girl was adorable), and Forest adventures; she'd been working on Project: Become a Total Badass, Phase 3.

She’d was looking into making a specific type of eternal elixir: one to increase her physical or magical durability. Or both. Both would be good.

Problem was, all the ingredients were insanely hard to get. Sure, she already had basilisk scales, unicorn hair, and acromantula silk, but that didn’t mean much. Not when she thought she’d need some of the most magic resistant materials known: dragon, troll, giant, and leithfold skin; nundu and quintapod hair.

Even the Goblins, exceptionally capable as they were, would struggle with gathering those.

The components for physical resistance she thought should work best would also be a hassle to gather: diamond, military-grade kevlar weave, some extremely strong metal like tungsten, and, funny enough, some rubber (the natural stuff of course, she wasn’t drinking shredded tires).

Holly was pretty sure the goblins could set up a dummy company for her to purchase them through for the right price. Or she could just steal them. Robbing a jeweler could be fun.

Regardless of how she got them, using non-magical ingredients would be risky. Since no wizards had experimented with kevlar or tungsten before she had nothing to work off of. No guinea pigs. No lessons to be learned from some reckless inventor who’d blown themselves up and showed everyone else what not to do. She’d be flying blind.

She believed it’d work though. Usually, an object's characteristics or properties were heavily related to the effect it had in a potion. Sure, sometimes it was a bit esoteric or seemingly random but mostly it made sense.

She’d figure it out.

But she wouldn’t be able to make it before the second task.

Or the third task.

Or maybe not even for years to come.

But one day she’d make a kickass Durability Elixir and shrug off spells like a dragon. The look on Adult Tom’s or whatever other wizards face would be priceless.

Unfortunately, that day was only a pleasant daydream for the foreseeable future.

At least she thought she’d be able to make a Stamina Elixir before the end of the year.

Mentioning that to Hermione had her shaking her head. “Honestly Holly, I’m certain you already have better physical stamina then the others, barring Krum. Wizards don’t do physical exercise like you, remember?”

“But-“

“I have full faith in you Holly.” She scoffed, “honestly, if you need another elixir it’d be a Wit-Sharpening s-

“Absolutely Not.” Something in her tone must have changed because Hermione’s head snapped up, looking surprised. “It's one thing to physically alter myself but I will never alter my mind. I’m not changing who I am for some outside force, even if it kills me.”

Hermione set down her book, walking over to give her a gentle hug. She let Hermione hold her as she apologized, “I’m sorry if that touched a nerve Holly. I was only going to make a joke about you not being able to think while talking to Fleur.”

“Oh.” Wait a moment- “I am perfectly capable of thinking around Fleur! She just makes me need to focus on occlumency. A lot.”

For some reason Hermione was smiling, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Whatever, I’d like to see how you’d react if you were me. You’re still sh*t at occlumency.” Just to prove her point she mentally jabbed at Hermione, almost instantly breaking through.

Grabbing her forehead Hermione groaned, “and now I have a headache. Was that really necessary?”

“Yeah, proved you’re still sh*t at it. At least I was careful not to look at any of your thoughts.”

Hermione glared, “that doesn’t exactly make me feel better. Its not like I can ever look at yours.”

And just like that, Holly had a Brilliant Idea.

Seeing her expression, Hermione started backpedaling, both physically and verbally. “Holly, whatever you’re thinking: no. Just no. I don’t-“

“But it’s brilliant! I can try bringing you into my head to show you my mindscape. I haven't even gotten to show it to Sirius yet. I’ve put years of effort in and haven't gotten any feedback yet. Please?”

Groaning, Hermione approached and sat across from her.

“Great. Now just look into my eyes.”

Making eye contact with Hermione, she reached out for Hermione’s mind then sort of pulled Hermione’s mind back into her own.

They found themselves standing in the corridor of the labyrinth section of her mindscape. A dimly lit subterranean tunnel stretched out in both directions. In front of her she knew there was a pit trap, while on the other side she could see several heavily armed soldiers ready to attack Hermione if she formed hostile intent.

“I have several different section, each modeled after a different environmental type. Currently we’re in a labyrinth section chunk. This is the only mindscape chunk that exists right now: if you travel in one direction another labyrinth chunk will ‘spawn in’ seamlessly, then another, then another, until you reach a different environmental section. Then those chunks will start spawning in, creating an infinite loop. And obviously I made every part heavily guarded and booby trapped.”

“You can’t break through the walls either.” With a gesture she parted the wall, revealing the empty void behind it. “This is the only chunk of mindscape currently spawned into existence. Breaking through might give me a headache but that’s it. My memories aren’t at risk from that.”

“Whole thing works exactly like a video game, just, in my mind.”

Turning to Hermione she could see her dumbfounded expression.

“You like it?” After a few seconds of being unresponsive Hermione startled and started slowly nodding. “Cool, popping us out now.”

With that she focused, ejecting Hermione from her mind and brought them both into the real world.

Feeling slightly disoriented, she looked over to see Hermione looking rather green. “Sorry about that, thought it’d be smoother.” Hermione, laying on her back with her face covered, only made a muffled noise vaguely acknowledging her.

“So what’d you think of it?”

Groaning, Hermione removed her arm from her face and slowly sat up, giving her a shrewd look. “I think… you went far beyond what any of those occlumency books said was possible. That must have taken you years.”

Now there was an unsubtle dig for answers. Now how much to tell her?

“Mhmm, I started about 2 years ago.”

Hermione blinked, “you did everything you described in only 2 years?! But what could-“ she paused, abruptly switching to a fake calm tone. “Holly, please tell me you are not implying what I think you’re implying.”

“Uh, Hermione, I have no idea what you’re implying unless you tell me. I may be a mindreader, but still.”

Hermione glared at her. “I mean that 2 years ago is when the Chamber of Secrets threat ended abruptly overnight, with nothing but an ominous note on the wall claiming a basilisk was dead, and the Heir of Slytherin ‘handled!’ That is what I mean Holly!”

Oh. That was quick. “…and you think this relates to me how?” She asked, trying and failing not to smile at Hermione’s put out expression.

Abruptly Hermione stood up, walked over, and started hitting her shoulder with every word. “You. Stupid. Brave. Brilliant. Heroic. Idiot! You killed a bloody basilisk!?”

“Well, I didn’t. That was the rooster. Whole thing was anticlimactic, honestly.”

Hermione, clearly not appreciating her lacking feats of combat, simply glared at her. “Should I ask what happened to the Heir?”

“Oh that. Funny enough it wasn’t actually him. I mean it sort of was, but he was possessing someone to do it. The Weasley girl was unwittingly acting as the Heir.”

Hermione blinked, “Ginny? But-“

“Mhm, she was being possessed through a Diary of Adult Tom’s, of Voldemort's. Can you believe the guy kept a diary? Anyways, she wrote in it, got possessed and opened the chamber. Yada yada yada, I dueled a possessed Ginny, killed the basilisk via a rooster, wrote a helpful yet ominous note, and afterwards negotiated the sale of the basilisk corpse to Gringotts for an insane amount of gold.”

Hermione simply stared back for a moment before abruptly sitting down, head falling into her hands.

Holly poked at her, “hey, you alright?” Hermione, face invisible under her hair, shook her head, causing the mound of hair to wobble. “You don’t exactly look alright. Is it something I said?”

Hermione looked up, a terribly blank expression on her face. “How are you not in Gryffindor?”

“Well, the hat said I could go anywhere, so I told it I only wanted to be left alone and learn magic. It failed at that honestly, people still bother me all the time.” Hermione laughed, a hint of a smile tracing her face.

“Also, I'm not exactly ‘honorable.’ I think wizards duels are stupid: if im seriously fighting someone I’d just stab them in the back. Or shoot them. That’s the only thing Muggle Studies has taught me: wizards wouldn’t recognize a gun even after you shot them with it.”

Hermione looked alarmed, “…you’ve put thought into this.”

“That’s the other bit about the basilisk ordeal: I found out Adult Tom, Voldemort, isn’t exactly dead. So I started working on killing him.” Hermione paled, “Hey don’t look at me like that, it’s actually been going really well. I got him on the ropes.”

Hermione, looking completely Done, gave her a deadpan stare. Having nothing else to say Holly tried for a smile, making Hermione roll her eyes and hug her while muttering insults into her neck.

“And that’s partially why I learned occlumency.” In her arms Hermione abruptly tensed. “Oh relax, its fine. Everything’s worked out great.”

Hermione only muttered into her neck, “I can’t believe you’re more infuriating now then in 1st year. You’re the smartest idiot I know.”

“Thanks? Now c’mon, we have books to copy.”

Before long it was a week before the second task. During one of her training sessions with professor Moody he made a rather alarming point.

“You noticed anything strange recently, Potter? Something a bit too coincidental?”

Now there was a vague question. By his standards anyone and anything could be conspiring against her. Which meant there was only one answer for her to give.

“…No?”

That had him looking extremely disappointed. “Your vigilance is lacking. You have to expect threats and spot evidence anywhere, at any time. Now, if you’d been paying attention for the last week you’d have noticed something suspicious.”

He held up a copy of the Daily Prophet in all its glory. “See anything funny?”

Without waiting for a response he jabbed a finger towards a particular advertisem*nt.

“This! A frontpage ad of an apothecary offering 50% off gillyweed! Been running for the last couple days, coincidently starting just before the second task where it’d be useful. Very suspicious.”

That… was a good point. Next to her Hermione looked doubtful but Sirius seemed to be considering it.

“Thanks for pointing that out, but I wasn’t planning on using gillyweed.”

Wait, this was the perfect chance to ask someone who would know if her plan could work! “Completely unrelated, but do you know if Hogwarts’ anti-portkey wards extend to the Lake?”

Professor Moody looked impressed. “I don’t think they do, but I’ll check with Albus. Good thinking Potter.”

A week later, the second task was even more anticlimactic then fighting the basilisk.

When the pudgy ministry official explained that their friends had been taken, none of them were surprised. Instead every champion looked rather furious, but still gave Holly grateful looks.

When the cannon sounded for them to dive in none of them moved off the dock. Instead the 4 for them stood there waiting as the crowd awkwardly muttered. Two minutes later the portkeys she’d given them earlier activated and their 4 hostage friends suddenly landed in front of them.

The 3 others giving her another grateful look (none of them were willing to risk their friends or wanted to go into the freezing lake except Viktor, that weirdo) and hauled their friends over to the medical tent.

Holly charmed Hermione dry, cast a warming charm, and wrapped her in a fluffy towel. Slowly, Hermione managed to stop shivering enough to talk.

“Th-the plan w-worked?”

“Perfectly. I didn’t even touch the water. I mean, I like you Hermione, but I was hoping I wouldn’t need my backup plan to rescue you.”

Hermione managed a laugh, “I’m t-touched. Have you heard the scores yet?”

“Nope. Don’t really care about them either. I’m getting out of here.”

And just like that, Holly left, leaving behind Hermione and a very disappointed crowd.

Chapter 19: Year Four (VIII)

Chapter Text

A few hours after the second task Holly was sitting with Fleur and Hermione at a table in the kitchens overflowing with food. While she ate both of them gave her an update on the reactions to the second task after she’d left.

Hermione, speaking in accented French, started. “None of the judges looked happy you all used portkeys. Didn’t make for a good show I imagine. Most students afterwards weren’t sure how to feel: portkeys were boring but they know it was better than staring at the surface of the Lake for an hour.”

“I think your Ministry officials and professors were surprised at our belief our friends were in serious danger.” Fleur chimed in with, “they tried to explain they were perfectly safe and seemed offended when we clearly didn’t trust their judgment.” She scoffed, “the same people who thought fighting dragons could be made safe and were offended when we didn’t trust their judgment. At least your Dumbledore seemed to understand.”

“After we explained how you told us our friends would likely be hostages and gave us portkeys, they gave you the most points at 38. The rest of us got 25 for cooperation and trying to protect our friends, but ignoring the ‘spirit of the Task.'"

“Well that’s some bullsh*t. f*cking wizards.” Only, then Holly processed the last bit of information. “Wait, if I got 13 more points then the rest of you-“

“You’re now in 1st place. Congratulations Holly.” Hermione said, looking far too amused.

Dumbstruck, she looked over at Fleur for support only to her nodding along. “It is well-deserved. Your performance in the First Task was far more impressive then the rest of ours. You only received less points because of Dumbledore saying you ‘violated the spirit of the Task.’ And the Second Task? You found the true meaning of the riddle. Your portkey solution was simple, elegant, and effective.” Fleur looked over at Hermione, “am I missing anything?”

Hermione, smiling widely, seemed to agree. “I think the only thing you’re missing is Holly accidentally helping dragon populations while also making their blood more available.”

“Ah yes, very impressive that.”

Holly, between having Fleur compliment her and realizing she was winning the stupid tournament, groaned loudly. She pushed away her food and folded her arms on the table to hide her flushed face in.

Hearing Hermione and Fleur laughing at her didn’t exactly make it better.

“I hate everything.” Only, then she realized something: she didn’t have to stay here with them! “Screw you two, I’m going to talk to someone who doesn’t tease me.”

Although, she wasn’t certain about that. Luna was impossible to read.

Hermione’s laughter abruptly cut off, suddenly looking shocked. “You talk to other people then us? When did that start? How did I not know this?”

“Yeah, Luna. She’s usually out in the Forest feeding the thestrals. I’m not sure where she gets the chunks of mystery meat but she’s nice.”

On that ominous note, she left the two concerned looking girls behind and walked into the Forest.

Sure enough, Luna was there feeding the thestrals chunks of mystery meat. Before Holly could say anything Luna turned and smiled at her in that unfocused, distinctly Luna-esq way.

“Hello Holly, congratulations on your victory over the Rotfang Conspiracy. I don’t think they’re very happy with you right now.”

“Er, thanks. How go Luna things?”

“Pleasant as ever, thank you very much. The Nargles still don’t bother me and the thestrals are doing well.”

With nothing else to say they stood in surprisingly comfortable silence until Luna was done feeding the thestrals. “Goodbye Holly, I’ll see you soon.”

Not waiting for Holly to say anything, Luna turned and started walking out of the Forest.

‘Well that was something. How come I don’t know a single normal person? Hermione is the closest but she’s too… Hermione to ever be considered normal.’

‘Or am I the weird one?’

...

‘Nah, that’d be ridiculous. It’s everyone else that’s weird.’

Reassured in her normality, Holly wandered the Forest collecting ingredients before calling it a night.

At least things mostly got better after that.

Hermione and Fleur seemed to be getting along. Hermione was getting to practice her French while Fleur practiced her English. The only unfortunate downside was Hermione constantly giving her knowing smiles whenever Fleur had dazed her slightly. At least she was getting tons of occlumency practice.

Some weeks later, she had absolutely no idea how, but suddenly Luna was with them as they were eating in the kitchens. Fleur looked suspiciously amused as Hermione tried to make sense out of Luna.

Hermione, leaning forward to stare at Luna, was clearly trying to interrogate the girl. “So Luna, how did you meet Holly?”

Luna, unflappable and dazed looking as ever, responded while seemingly staring over their heads. “I met Holly soon after I came here, back when the nargles used to steal my things. But then Holly swooped in like a mother dragon and scared them off.”

Hermione, clearly having no idea how to interpret that, looked to Holly for clarification. “I don’t remember the first time I met Luna. You remember how unobservant I used to be.”

Hermione snorted, “Used to be?”

Before Holly could defend herself, Luna interrupted. “I think Holly is like a hawk swooping in on its prey. To be distracted at that moment could spell death for the predator.”

Hermione looked completely stumped by that while Fleur was nodding along.

Holly herself was mildly unnerved. Luna’s analogy was a touch too accurate for comfort.

Hermione didn’t seem to understand it, throwing her hands up in frustration. “But what does that mean?”

Without making eye contact Luna somehow managed to give Hermione a reproachful look. “It means what it means.”

Groaning, Hermione stood up and stomped out of the kitchens.

Fleur spoke up in English, still heavily accented but noticeably less so, “It is ok Luna. Hermione is a rigid thinker, but may be more, ah, adaptable in time. Then she will understand.”

Holly joined in, “exactly what Fleur said. You’re pretty brilliant, that observation about me was scary accurate.”

Luna, still looking slightly over their heads, beamed at them.

And just like that, their trio became a quartet.

Naturally, there were growing pains. Hermione altered between bickering with Luna and trying her best to play nice. Luna, of course, took everything in stride, never letting anything bother her. Still, when even after a few weeks things weren’t getting better, so Holly took Hermione to the Room to chat.

The second they were inside the Room Hermione’s suppressed thoughts practically burst out.

“I don’t get it Holly! When did you suddenly make a friend on your own? And without me noticing it at all! How did I miss that? Why Luna of all people? She’s nice but you can’t deny she’s… odd.”

“I wasn’t trying to make a friend. In case you haven't noticed, I’ve never even tried to talk to people before. It sorta just happens to me. First it happened with us, then with Fleur, and now with Luna.”

“As for the rest? Luna is nice. She’s shockingly observational if you can figure out what she means. Sure, she could do with a bit more logic, but you could also do with more imagination. Does that make sense?”

To her horror Hermione was sniffling. “I’m sorry Holly, it’s just, I’m used to it being the two of us. Fleur’s nice and I’m glad you met her, but with her leaving at the end of the year I was expecting it to go back to just us.”

That… made some sense but it didn’t actually explain anything.

“Then what’s the issue? It’ll still be us, just with Luna here too. You’re my friend. That's not changing unless you become a complete bitch or you’re secretly a Death Eater or something like that.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Well, I can say I’m not a Death Eater. Thanks for talking to me.”

With that Hermione pulled her into a hug before splitting apart. “I think I owe Luna an apology. I’ve been quite rude to her, haven't I?”

“Maybe? I bet she already figured it out.”

Task complete, they went back to find Luna and Fleur in the kitchens. Sure enough, Luna already Hermione was about to apologize and smiled.

“It’s nice to see you got the Wackspurts out of your ears Hermione. I look forward to talking to you now that you can hear.”

Hermione, while clearly uneasy, still smiled back. “Thanks Luna, I am too.”

Distractions from her friends handled, Holly settled into preparing for the final task.

Training with professor Moody went from twice a week to 3 times. It was grueling, every lesson ending with her laying on her back breathing heavily. The more competent she became the more suspicious professor Moody became. According to Sirius that was (somehow) a good sign.

In the Room she practiced furiously, usually trying to hit moving targets on the range while simultaneously shielding beanbags launched at her from random angles. That always left her sore and covered in bruises. After she was done she’d collapse into a chair, often with Hermione bringing her bruise paste afterwards.

She had a feeling Hermione didn’t like that but of training but knew Holly needed it. They both knew the 3rd Task was almost certainly a trap.

Other times they exercised together, running laps and lifting weights (significantly heavier ones for Holly) until they both were drenched in sweat. Thankfully her regenerative elixir helped her muscles recover faster, something Hermione always grumbled about.

On her own she started making other preparations.

The Goblins assured Holly she could buy some Liquid Luck from them before the Task. Hopefully it’d be enough to get the best possible outcome.

If it wasn’t she had other safeguards: she’d commissioned Gringotts for armor to be made from the basilisk hide and acromantula silk. She’d wear an acromantula silk tracksuit with basilisk scale vest, armguards, and shin guards underneath. The increased spell resistance would weaken any harmful spells, helping her keep fighting.

Hopefully any attackers would be surprised enough that she could catch them off guard.

Just in case all that wasn’t enough, during class she doodled out rune sequences for a prototype rune-powered gun. She didn't want to reveal that trick before Adult Tom revealed himself, but she knew she might be forced to use it before then. Plus, it was a great way to not fall asleep during class.

The planning for her Stamina Elixir was proving surprisingly difficult. Unlike the both her previous elixirs, the standard formula for a stamina potion didn’t require any rare ingredients. That meant she was able to endlessly experiment with it, making minor variations for every batch she tested.

She had most of it figured out, now it was just the fussy details about how best to gather her ingredients.

(In her testing she’d discovered that, while using a normal dragonfly thorax would work, one from a dragonfly she’d fed a swelling solution to was more potent. Naturally, after that she brewed another in her gold cauldron and fed it to another dragonfly. That one swelled to the size of a truck and immediately tried to eat her.

One fight later and Holly had plenty of oversized dragonfly ingredients. Using its thorax in her next batch massively increased the potency, making her quite pleased with the result. She told Hermione about her discovery but got a Look for some reason.)

Fussy details, which unfortunately tended to have a major effect on the overall outcome of her potions. Meaning every potion had to be measured in both potency and longevity.

That meant running laps on a track in the Room for hours at a time. After a few batches, each stronger and longer lasting than the last, she simply didn’t have enough time to run until exhausted.

Fortunately, she had a solution to that. Hermione hated her idea, but grudgingly agreed it was their best option.

That evening, Holly approached the Weasley twins to be her guinea pigs.

She thought it was rather brilliant. She’d be able to test 2 different potion variations at once! And, since they were twins, she’d be able to directly compare the results without needing a control group.

As she saw the Twins walking past the great hall she cleared her throat to get their attention.

The Twins briefly paused before spinning around to face her with cheery grins.

“Well hello there, miss Holly-"

“Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived, “

“the violent recluse,”

“the ultimate bookworm,”

“the One-Who-Steps,”

‘the prodigious potioneer,”

“the lady-loving witch.”

“How can we-“

“assist you?”

Holly blinked, ‘oh sh*t, Hermione was right. These guys don’t need more energy. Eh, at least the sh*tshow they cause will be entertaining.’

“I have a business proposition for you two.”

Without even glancing at each other they replied simultaneously, “we’re interested.”

“I have a potion I need to test: a stamina potion. I know it lasts for hours but I don’t have enough time to see exactly how long my different varieties last. I figured you two would be interested in seeing how long you could run around causing mayhem.”

This time they did glance at each other as identical cheshire grins slowly spread across their faces.

“We’re interested of course,-“

“we are quite invested in-“

“causing general mayhem, but-“

“if you’re good at something-“

“never do it for free.”

Holly smiled, “I’ll pay you 5 galleons per potion tested. Each.”

Both twins immediately grabbed one of her hands and started shaking it rapidly, “you have a deal.”

Coins exchanged hands before Holly reached into her bag, pulling out her two potions. “Twin on my left, you’re getting potion A. Twin on my right, you’re getting potion B. Remember that. I’ve marked the time already, let's see how long they last.”

Handing over the two potions, both Twins immediately chugged theirs and handed back the vials.

“Well Forge”

“Yeah Gred?”

“I do believe it’s time for a Prank War”

“Right you are, twin mine, right you are.”

With that they both shook her hands again and ran off, leaving wary looking bystanders in their wake.

Holly, knowing she’d be in for a treat beforehand, pulled out her bag of popcorn and found a good spot to enjoy the show.

Naturally, the next several hours were nothing short of absolute chaos.

The Twins ran around like men possessed, causing mayhem wherever they went. They released bats in the dungeons; stuck the tables upside down to the ceiling in the great hall; made several doors only open if tickled while others were stuck open and gave everyone who passed through a massive beard; conjured waterfalls of glitter, and probably a dozen other pranks Holly missed in the chaos.

They even managed to convince the elves to make nothing but jello for dinner, some of them (away from the usual 1st and 2nd year sections) looking suspiciously off-color like they were spiked.

The result was very frustrated professors (although Dumbledore looked amused), the Twins getting weeks of detention, students either laughing hysterically or looking murderous, and Holly quite pleased with the data gathered.

As she was walking to the kitchens with Hermione, side stepping random piles of glitter as they went, Holly spoke up.

“I think that went rather well. Now I know potion A, the one with fresh coffee beans, is slightly stronger and longer lasting then potion B. That means for the next batch I’ll start there then continue to further refine it. And I haven't even started using my rare ingredients yet!”

Hermione, sounding rather wary, asked “are you sure you want to give them even stronger potions? You did see what they managed with this one, right?”

“What’s the worst that could happen? Besides, wizards take themselves so seriously for a society that really doesn’t do anything.”

“You only want to mess with everyone because they annoy you.”

“Also true.”

Stepping into the kitchens they were greeted with a sight Holly never could’ve imagined: a murderous looking Fleur sitting there covered in glitter, too angry to function, with a half dozen house elves trying to get the glitter out of her hair.

Fleur, seeing them, flatly stated “I am going to kill them.”

Hermione, clearly deciding to throw Holly under the bus, turned around and walked out of the kitchens.

Leaving Holly alone with Fleur and the elves, knowing this was completely her fault.

Was it too late to escape?

“So I, uh, wanted to test an endurance potion but didn’t have enough time. Sooooo, I might’ve paid the Twins to test 2 different variations at once for me.” Seeing Fleur’s murderous intent shift to her she quickly continued, “I should have made sure to specify some people were off limits. I'm sorry.”

Fleur’s expression softened the tiniest amount. “Holly, if you ever plan something like this I would like to be told beforehand. Now, I am going to take a shower and you, Holly, are going to make sure this never happens again. Are we clear?"

Holly rapidly nodded, unable to make eye contact or speak. Patting her on the shoulder as she passed, Fleur left, leaving a shaken Holly behind.

“Ok, so Hermione was right. I just didn’t think the Twins were suicidal enough to let Fleur be effected. Does she hate me now? Maybe she’d like a gift, let me bribe my way back into friendship? Or maybe that’d make things worse?” Holly threw her hands up, “life was so much simpler when it was just me and the house elves.”

Later that night when Holly asked Hermione for help she got laughed at, leaving Holly alone to fix it.

Thankfully Fleur didn’t seem to hold a grudge against her afterwards. At least, not with her.

When Fleur found the Twins the next day she asked to have a “talk” with them. After a few minutes Fleur left their privacy ward with a satisfied smirk, leaving the Twins pale-faced and terrified as she walked off. Afterwards they refused to speak about it so, since nobody dared to ask Fleur, it remained a mystery.

Unfortunately for Holly, the Twins weren’t willing to keep testing her potions after that. Thankfully she quickly thought of another group in desperate need of energy: stressed upperclassmen preparing for exams.

Once word spread Holly was selling extraordinarily powerful stamina potions she was suddenly overwhelmed with people asking to buy. It was annoying but at least she had no shortage of guinea pigs. After several weeks, countless variations, and making a surprising amount of money, she finally figured out the final component and how to get it.

The problem? It was Fairy wings. Not the ones from the standard tiny, non-sentient fairies that were like magical humanoid butterflies. No, a true sentient Fairy of the Fair Folk. The kind that were so dangerous that even human supremacist wizards knew approaching them at all was a terrible idea. To lose a wager to them was to become eternally trapped and tormented for their amusem*nt.

Now, Holly could make do with garden-variety fairy wings. That probably would’ve been the wise thing to do.

But Holly wasn’t willing to compromise. Getting those wings would give her a massive advantage against, well, everything. It could (probably) make her elixir potent enough to give her functionally unlimited stamina. That bonus would be invaluable.

She knew she couldn’t fight a proper Fairy. Or out talk it. Or read its mind. Or out-anything it.

Which meant there was only one thing to do: cheat. She’d give it an unsolvable riddle and hoped it didn’t have some unfathomable eldritch knowledge to know the answer.

After making preparations (updating her existing will at Gringotts, leaving Hermione and Sirius notes explaining everything if she wasn’t back after 5 days) she did what wizards said to never do: during sunrise on Beltane she walked out into the Forest and followed the fairy lights.

As she walked the Forbidden Forest slowly shifted and blurred, until she was following a lit path through a different forest entirely. She kept her eyes on the path, refusing to look at any of the odd sounds, until eventually she came upon a clearing.

There, sitting on a large throne in the middle of the otherwise empty clearing, was a large Fairy man. He was devastatingly beautiful in an uncanny-valley way, even before she noticed the slightly pointed ears and wings behind him. And was that a crown on his head?

‘Oh. This is Not Good. Not Good at all. Good thing I wrote out those letters explaining everything.’

She stopped walking a (hopefully) respectful distance and bowed her head.

Before she could say anything he spoke (and dear god was his voice smooth like butter but with the undercurrent of something distinctly inhuman) “I know what you seek. Were you anyone else I would have already taken your sanity for daring to come here and ask that.”

When she risked a look up she saw him reach over his shoulder. With a slight jerk he tugged, pulling his hand back with a small section of translucent glowing wing in his hand.

He looked directly at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “May you use it well on your great and terrible path.”

Holly blinked, suddenly finding herself laying down on her dorm bed.

‘What. The. f*ck. Did that really happen or was that the most surreal dream I’ve ever had? Am I going crazy preparing for this obvious trap?’

However, once she sat up she spotted something new: a small piece of glowing fairy wing on her nightstand.

Which meant that really happened.

She’d been given a gift for nothing in exchange.

No battle of riddles. No deals with the devil. Nothing.

Holly pinched herself, surprised when she felt pain.

“…Ooooook then. That happened. Note to self: never tell Hermione and Sirius about this. Ever.”

Trying and failing to snap herself out of a daze, she drifted through breakfast, only snapping out of it when she saw Hermione coming.

“Guess what? I figured it out the last bit: we’re ready to brew.” The answering smile was brilliant, wildly different from how she’d react if she knew what had actually happened.

That night they stayed up late brewing the eternal elixir base solution in the Hogwarts anchorstone room. Finally, it was time to add her ingredients.

Ground coffee beans (specifically bred by Holly to have extra caffeine), peppermint, scurvy grass, and an infusion of wormwood. All grown with her fertilizing potions of course.

After that came the flying seahorses (personally caught from the lake), dragonfly thorax (from another dragonfly that drank her swelling solution, grew dragon sized, and was killed by her), the fairy wing bit (she really hoped Hermione wouldn’t ask about that), and a phoenix tear (a massive upgrade from the standard vervian infusion).

Once she finished her potion was a vibrant green and slightly glowing, while magically spinning itself into a whirlpool.

“Well, bottoms up, take three.”

Chugging her elixir, she felt raw energy run through her. Suddenly she didn’t feel at all like she’d been up most of the night.

Which, well, hopefully it wouldn’t mess with her ability to sleep. In hindsight that was something she should’ve considered. If she died from sleep loss due to her own elixir she deserved the passive aggressive gravestone Hermione would want to get her.

“I think it worked. Now lets just hope it hasn’t destroyed my ability to sleep.”

Hermione, too tired for a Look, simply shook her head silently.

Thankfully, after some testing Holly knew she could still sleep normally. Her body felt like it could keep going at least a few times longer, and her mind felt like it fatigued slower too, but she could still lay down and fall asleep every night.

Testing exactly how much more stamina she had was interesting at first but quickly got boring. She’d run laps around a track in the Room until even Hermione looked bored without feeling exhausted. She felt the burn in her legs, sure, but she could keep going for a while longer.

During her practice duels she slowly noticed that her magical stamina had also increased. Dramatically so.

She could keep casting spells, powerful ones, for far longer. Her normal spells weren't any more powerful, but could keep casting them for hours. Even when she intentionally overpowered her spells it took longer for her to feel drained. The best analogy she could think of is that, if she was a car, then it was like her petrol tank was suddenly much larger, letting her drive faster for longer.

When Hermione noticed she shrugged and tried not to think about the ominous implications.

“Well, I the elixir worked. I'm declaring Operation: Become a Total Badass complete for now.”

Hermione arched an eyebrow, “for now?”

“Mhmm. Time to focus on my other preparations for the task. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

It was a complete lie, she was worried.

If this really was a trap, which it almost certainly was, she’d need to fight her way out. For the first time in her life she’d be in a real fight against grown wizards (Diary Tom, the eternally 16 megalomaniac, didn’t count) trying to kill her.

There were no Goblins to hire, no allies she could bring, no minds to provide the answers.

Still, how bad could it go?

Chapter 20: Year Four (IX)

Chapter Text

It was two days before the third task and Holly was finally taking her potions NEWT exam. She ignored the constant glances of everyone else in the room, only focusing on Snape standing at the front of the room with an unfathomable expression.

When the exams were passed out she nearly snorted. ‘This is the exam? This is what Snape thought I couldn’t handle? That bastard is looking down on me.’ She completed her exam quickly, confident in her answers. The sound of her chair scraping on stone echoed as she stood up to turn her exam in, walking up through the rows of other students.

She handed in her exam while giving Snape a death glare, the bastard only raising an eyebrow in response. One of the elderly proctors looked like he might’ve started saying something but Holly quickly turned and left before he could start.

A few hours later it was time for the practical portion of the exam: brewing wolfsbane. It was one of the more difficult potions, but well within her abilities. She quickly got into The Zone, methodically working on her potion and even making a minor alteration.

Some time later she finished her brewing, turning off the burner and wiping the sweat from her brow. Glancing up she was startled to see Snape and the geriatric looking proctors staring at her cauldron with interest.

Snape was the first to ask, “Potter, what did you do?”

“I added a vanilla pod. It should taste better without altering the effectiveness.”

Snape’s expression gave away nothing but the proctors looked impressed. “Well done, miss Potter, well done indeed. You’ve taught her well, Severus.”

Snape sneered and for once Holly agreed: that bastard hadn’t taught her anything.

Only, then Snape’s expression shifted, an odd malicious look in his eye. She knew what that look meant and readied herself.

“Potter, how would you cure werewolves?”

For a second Holly (and everyone else in hearing range) could only stare.

She knew what he was doing.

‘He’s trying to make me look stupid in from of them! Trying to make them fail me! This is his last chance to make me look stupid so he’s doing it with an audience. He knows he’s asking a seemingly impossible question. That petty bastard.’

‘You know what? f*ck it, I’ll answer it. I’ll beat that bastard at his own game.’

She looked down and took a moment to think before finally responding, “lycanthropy is theorized to have first been created by a failed attempt at an animagus ritual using blood magic before it spread by bite. The reason its been impossible to cure so far isn’t because its such a powerful curse, but because its anchored in their very blood. The solution to that is simple: you need to dilute their blood.”

“If a werewolf had their blood withdrawn and replaced with uncontaminated donated blood the curse should weaken slightly. If you replaced a majority of their blood the curse should be significantly weaker. Maybe even more so if the donated blood was from a squib or non-magical?”

“After that… several rounds of strong curse purging and cleansing potions might be enough to remove the curse entirely. If that isn't enough... maybe a modified animagus ritual? If you can’t completely remove the curse then you might be able to gain control of the transformations. That’s better than nothing.”

She looked back up to see a visibly shocked Snape staring back at her. Even the proctors (along with everyone else within earshot) was staring, simmering cauldrons forgotten.

Holly didn’t care about any of that.

No, she only cared about one thing: she’d won.

With a savage smile wide across her face, she stood on her tippy toes and whispered “I win” into Snape’s ear.

Victory declared, she turned and walked out with a wide smile, leaving the hall without a glance backwards.

Afterwards she found Hermione eating in the kitchens with Fleur and Luna. The moment she walked in their heads snapped up, seeing her smile and clearly expecting answers.

“I won. I beat the bastard.” She said, grinning as she sat down and started filling her plate.

“Holly, that doesn't explain anything. What happened? What was the exam like? What did you have to brew? Do you know how you were graded? What about-“

“I think what Hermione is saying is that she would like some details” Fleur cut in.

“Oh, well I took the exam and it wasn’t hard. For the practical I brewed some wolfsbane and made a minor improvement. Then, when Snape tried to make me look stupid by asking me how to cure werewolves, I gave him an idea that I think could work.” Holly smiled wider, “I beat the bastard.”

They didn’t seem to agree for some reason because all three of them were silently staring at her.

“What?”

Fleur abruptly started laughing hysterically, the noise snapping the other two out of their stares. While Luna gave a cryptic smile, Hermione instead started silently patting Fleur’s shoulder.

“Anyway, that's over. Now I just have to get through the tournament.”

Two impossibly fast days later, just before the final task, Sirius was hugging her tight and refusing to let go. She could vaguely hear the muffled sounds of the other champions talking with their families nearby.

Of course, she couldn’t actually see them because Sirius was being clingy.

“Sirius, I’m going to be fine. I’m armored up, have tracking charms from both you and Hermione, and Liquid Luck.”

Left unsaid and unknown to him was that she also had several cursed knives in her boots, her prototype rune-powered handgun in her expanded pocket, and was fully willing to kill anyone who tried to kill her. He didn't need to know that.

He crouched down to look her in the eye. “The first sign of a non-tournament threat, you run away and hide, then contact me. I’ll be there with the cavalry immediately. Do you understand?”

She nodded. It wasn’t even a lie: she trusted Sirius to come rescue her if something went wrong. Of course, she had no intention of sitting out after backup had arrived, but he didn’t need to know that either.

As Sirius started leading her to the quidditch pitch she let her brave façade fall. Even with all her preparations she was nervous.

It’d be stupid not to be while knowingly walking into a trap. Better to be ready and over prepared then caught off guard. Which, looking at the lack of armor and weapons on the other champions, she certainly was in comparison. At least Fleur wasn’t wearing a dress this time.

Holly was wearing a tracksuit again. Only, this one was secretly made from acromantula silk, capable of blocking most minor spells and weakening stronger ones. Hidden beneath that was her basilisk scale armor: a vest, armguards, and shinguards.

She would’ve liked a full fitted bodysuit of it but that wasn’t exactly subtle. Since basilisks were so rare publicly wearing that would practically be announcing that she’d killed the Chamber’s basilisk.

Plus, as a matter of practicality, she didn’t want to use her limited amount of basilisk hide on armor she’d grow out of. Once she was fully grown she’d have a suit of it commissioned.

Sadly, she felt her prototype handgun was lacking. Sure, it was semi-automatic and silenced, but she thought it was lacking oomph. At least it’d be easy to draw quickly and she knew most wizards wouldn’t recognize it as a weapon. She hadn’t gotten as much practice as she would’ve liked either, although liquid luck would help with that.

Earlier that week she’d picked up her commissioned liquid luck from Gringotts. It was a small vial, but she knew it’d be enough for several hours. Hopefully that'll be enough time to rush through the maze and deal with whatever bullsh*t was in her way.

In the stands she could vaguely hear the announcements started, people cheering like mad, but she couldn’t process that. Couldn’t process anything besides needing to survive the task in front of her.

With one glance at the other champions (all of them, even Viktor, looked visibly nervous) she stepped into place at the entrance to the hedge maze. When the whistle sounded she stepped into the maze.

The instant the maze closed behind her she chugged her liquid luck. After a moment she was hit by a feeling of wrongness. That she needed to turn around and escape. That she needed to concede.

Which, well, she’d already known the tournament was a trap. But she wasn’t running away, no matter what the liquid luck suggested. If she turned away someone else would fall into a trap meant for her.

That’d be unacceptable.

Seeming to sense her resolve, the luck potion shifted from suggesting she conceded to urging her onward. Letting the potion to lead her, she took off running.

She ran down each dark path, following the pull of her gut at each turn. She briefly saw one of Hagrid’s abominations at an intersection but luckily it was facing the wrong way. By the time it turned around she was long gone.

She wasn’t sure how long she ran for (having her endurance skyrocket make it annoyingly hard to judge time during exercise) but it didn’t seem like long before she was looking down a long path with the Cup glowing at the end.

Sure, there was another one of Hagrid's abominations between her and it, but that was easily solved by shish-kabobbing it with a conjured spear. She climbed over its corpse (while seriously wishing she had time to take some ingredients from it) and sprinted for the Cup.

Holly slid to a stop just a few feet away from it to do one last check.

Liquid luck? Check.

Armor? Check, still in place and shockingly comfortable.

Makeshift gun? She pulled it out and made sure it was loaded before stuffing it back into her pocket. Check.

Communication mirror? Check.

With that she disillusioned and silenced herself before grabbing the Cup, not surprised when she felt herself being portkeyed away.

Holly landed on her feet, disappointed and almost disbelieving when she saw she was in an excessively gloomy graveyard. The place looked almost as clichély evil as the Chamber. She might’ve laughed if she couldn’t feel the anti-apparation ward, probably a one-way block to prevent her escape.

For some reason her scar started hurting too. Not badly, but enough to be distracting.

Worse, she could tell the tracking charms on her were being suppressed too. At least Hermione and Sirius knew something was wrong now.

Even the liquid gut in her gut was giving her a feeling of foreboding. That this wasn’t a good place to be but also not urging her to turn and run. Which, weird. Damn potion was more vague than she’d hoped for.

What should she do? She had the mirror but couldn’t use it silently or while invisible. Her only other method of communication was a patronus and those were the opposite of subtle. If she died here because wizards hadn’t invented magic-proof cell phones yet she was going to haunt their asses.

Before she could think to do anything else she saw a spell sweep over the graveyard, making her invisible form start glowing. Instantly she dove behind a nearby gravestone. Not a second later a stunner flew through where she’d been standing.

‘Ok, so they’re not trying to kill me yet. That could be good or Very Bad. At least I have that advantage over them.’

As several more spells impacted the headstone she was hiding behind she realized something. ‘Wait, shouldn’t there be more spells coming at me from multiple places? Is there only one guy? What kind of idiot attempts a solo kidnapping?’ She took a second to assess the feeling in her gut: it was urging her up, to duel. Not use the mirror or gun for some reason. That didn’t make sense but she trusted the Goblins, if they said the potion was good then it was.

‘Well, here goes nothing.’

She peeked over her cover. There, standing a few dozen feet away, was a vaguely familiar, deranged looking man pointing his wand at her. Simultaneously the man glanced backwards at a faint voice coming from behind him as her scar exploded in pain.

Ignoring the pain to take the opportunity, she immediately started flinging curses at him. With shocking ease he countered both and rapidly fired back several stunners.

It wasn’t long until Holly was on the back foot, desperately dodging and blocking spells. Even wandlessly casting with her empty hand and the liquid luck helping her aim better and dodge faster, she wasn’t winning. She was, at best, fighting equally even while he was holding back by using only incapacitating spells.

Dodging his spells she internally cursed. ‘What the f*ck potion?! This guy is better than Sirius, probably at Moody’s skill level but younger and with two legs! Are you trying to get me killed?’

In her brief moment of distraction, a stunner hit her chest, staggering her but negated by her basilisk hide vest. Clearly he’d expected her to drop because he lowered his guard and didn’t react in time to fully dodge her retaliatory cutting curse. Sadly it missed his neck, instead leaving a bloody gash on his right shoulder . She followed up her attack but the man recovered quickly, soon gaining the advantage once again.

It was like Diary Tom all over again: she didn’t stand a chance.

Even with his dominant shoulder injured he was winning. Worse, the guy was holding back and still winning.

She didn’t even have time to pull out her gun, he was just too fast. The liquid luck knew it too, urging her not to try. Likewise, it was urging her not to attack his mind either, clearly suggesting the man was highly skilled in occlumency.

Furious, Holly started lashing out with more lethal spells. She overpowered her curses, launched volleys of conjured spears, and (almost) any lethal curses she could think of. But it was all useless. The man countered everything with a manic smile.

“Not bad Potter, but what would your parents think?” The man taunted.

That didn’t need a response. Or rather, not a verbal one.

Instead she fired back with an imperious curse. He quickly ducked but his expression darkened.

Suddenly she knew he was done playing.

He swiped his wand, sending a bludgeoning hex at her. She countered it along with his next one and the next, but she couldn’t keep up and was hit. She went flying backwards into a gravestone, her head slamming against stone.

Her vision was blurry, but she could vaguely see a silhouette standing over her. There was a bit of movement and a red flash, then she knew no more.

When Holly slowly came to she was tightly tied upright to a statue, with the same man working over a massive cauldron filled with an ominous looking potion. A quick tug on her restraints had them magically tightening, all placed so she couldn’t wandlessly cut them.

Nearby on the ground was a small bundle of cloth wriggling and a massive snake coiled next to it. Strangely the snake had a somewhat familiar magical feel to it, almost like the Diadem.

Oh.

f*ck.

This was Not Good. Not Good at all.

If that snake was a horcrux then that meant that wiggling bundle was someone she hadn’t wanted to see for at least a few more years.

Adult Tom.

But why did simply being around him made her scar hurt? It didn’t make any sense, what could possibly cause that?

She was pulled out of her thoughts when Adult Tom whispered “Hurry” from his bundle. She refused to think of him like a baby being swaddled. She’d read enough illegal books to suspect how that body was created.

The Death Eater picked him up with a disturbing look of reverence and slowly unwrapped him.

The figure inside was horrific beyond description, painful to look at but impossible to look away from. Thankfully he disappeared under the potion’s surface quickly.

The Death Eater walked closer to her, twirling his wand at the ground. “Bone of the father, given unknowingly, you will renew your son!”

‘Oh f*ck, it’s a ritual, probably one to get him a new body. This is bad, this is so bad-‘

She was pulled out of her panicking to see the man raise a knife high, “Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master!”

The man swung downwards, cleanly slicing almost his entire right arm off without making a single noise of pain.

(Which, honestly? That was both wildly badass and a whole new disturbing level of devotion to someone.)

The man turned to her, bloody knife still in hand, manic smile wide across his face as he walked closer.

‘Oh f*ck. He needs a component from me doesn’t he? Hopefully it’s not my death or something.’

Roughly grabbing her wrist, he stabbed downward into her left palm. Just as the knife hit her skin, liquid luck made her hand jerk up.

“Blood of the enemy, forcefully taken, you will revive your master!”

He walked back to the cauldron, flicking her blood off the knife into the cauldron. The instant her blood hit the potion a tower of multicolor flames erupted before settling down into painfully bright white sparks. After a brief moment they stopped and a thick cloud of white smoke erupted.

“Robe me” a high voice ordered.

(Thank god for that smoke, she did not want to see Adult Tom naked. That’d require a self obliviate.)

The Death Eater, still smiling like the madman he was despite looking quite pale, approached with a bow and pulled the robes onto Adult Tom.

The smoke cleared and there was Adult Tom in all his evil glory.

He was tall and thin, with a disturbingly attractive face and a full head of dark hair.

Still, his body wasn’t quite right looking.

His fingers were a bit too long and spidery looking. His eyes were slightly tinged red. His skin was splotchy, slightly paler in some spots.

Adult Tom, still weirdly feeling his own face up, looked pleased.

“I feel… powerful. You have done well, my servant.” The Death Eater, still bleeding heavily from his shoulder wound and stump, somehow bowed even lower than before.

He pulled out his wand and turned it over several times before his eyes snapped over to her.

He smiled a terrible smile, “Holly Potter, Girl-Who-Lived. I was quite disappointed we did not meet your first year or that you somehow did not recognize me attached to that puppet. Perhaps I was expecting too much of you…”

Now that was condescending. She was getting casually insulted by Adult Tom.

How was this her life?

Still, she needed to play along, keep him talking. Thankfully she had a good idea of how to do that.

“Well excuse me, your Dark Lord-ness, I wasn’t exactly expecting you to be in Hogwarts. Guess it was naive of me to expect Dumbledore would do a background check. He’s probably too busy with his hoarding.”

He blankly stared back at her for a second before abruptly laughing loudly.

“The fool does like to collect his trinkets, doesn’t he? I saw his office once just after he became headmaster and it was already cluttered.” The amusem*nt quickly fell from his face, as if it had never been there. “But Dumbledore is not why we are here tonight.”

He turned and approached the still bowing Death Eater. “Rise and give me your arm.” Immediately the Death Eater complied.

Adult Tom examined the Dark Mark on his remaining arm. “It is back. They all will have noticed it, and now we shall see. Now we shall know…”

Adult Tom touched the Dark Mark, instantly making Holly’s scar spike in pain.

(And why was it doing that? What the hell was her connection with him?)

“Your other arm now.”

Pointing at the still bleeding shoulder stump, Adult Tom swirled his wand, conjuring a gleaming silver arm that attached to the stump.

“Thank you Master, thank you.”

“You have done your job well, my most loyal servant. Now we will see if any of the others have your loyalty.”

Pacing between headstones Adult Tom looked strangely manic, like he had too much energy.

Wait a second…

‘If he used my blood does that mean he got all the benefits from my elixirs? Oh f*ck, that’d make him so much harder to kill. And the liquid luck! Hopefully he didn’t get that too. Sure, it’d make him overconfident and eventually poison him, but it’s still Not Good if he’s lucky right now, let alone if it lasts longer.’

“You know, I was impressed by your showing in the Tournament” Adult Tom abruptly said, sounding shockingly conversational. “Taking advantage of the opportunity to collect dragons' blood during the First Task was resourceful. Granted, your method of doing so was disgustingly muggle but undeniably effective. I’m surprised you didn’t get a better score.”

Was he nervous and trying to talk out his nerves? Weird. Whatever it was, she couldn’t waste the chance to distract him.

“Thanks? Apparently Dumbledore said it ‘violated the spirit of the task’ or something and marked me down.”

Adult Tom sneered, “Dumbledore, that old self-righteous, moralizing fool. You know the first time we met he set my wardrobe on fire?”

Holly did know that but saying so would lead to some awkward (and painful) questions. Instead she said, “you know, between that, hiring puppet-you, and not discouraging Hagrid’s interest in dangerous monsters; I’m seriously questioning his judgment.”

Adult Tom abruptly turned towards her. “I knew you were intelligent from your potions papers but I never expected you to distrust Dumbledore.”

What the- “my potions papers? How the hell did you read those?”

He simply stared at her before flatly answering, “… your articles in Potions Weekly. There are over a dozen of your alterations published in it.”

“Wait…” if that was true then there was only one person who could’ve done it. “That bastard! Snape’s been assigning me extra papers, publishing them, and is probably pocketing the money from them for himself!”

Adult Tom, the evil asshole, simply laughed. “Severus truly embodies the House of my ancestor Slytherin well.”

“You know after my NEWT exam he, in front of everyone, tried to make me look stupid by asking how I’d cure werewolves?” Holly asked, glaring. “I gave him a good answer of course, finally beat that bastard, but he still tried. I can’t believe one of the proctors said he ‘taught me well.’ He didn’t teach me sh*t!”

For some reason Adult Tom was giving her a Look oddly similar to Hermione often did.

(Now that was a disturbing similarity to make. Probably shouldn’t ever mention that.)

“… I may have spoken too soon about your intelligence. Although, this is an impressive attempt to distract me. You would have done well in Slytherin.”

Well, there was no point in being unrepentant. “Thanks? Not sure that’s a compliment coming from you.”

Chuckling (and wasn’t that disturbing? He chuckled.) he said, “you are remarkably unafraid for someone who should be.”

“I figure you’re not going to try and kill me until after your minions show up. Then we can fight and try to kill each other like civilized people.”

Was she really quoting The Princess Bride to a monster like Adult Tom who hadn’t seen the movie and was legitimately going to try and kill her soon? Yes.

Did she regret it? No.

Especially not as he was staring at her with the strangest expression on his face.

Before he could carry on his unnerving conversation suddenly there was the sound of people apparating in. Holly watched as the cloaked Death Eaters started appearing and formed a circle around them.

Holly paid close attention to all the figures. Their cloaks and masks anonymized them well, or at least they did until Adult Tom started addressing them by name.

Dumbass.

It’s like he actually believed he was guaranteed to kill her here. She was memorizing all the names to expose later.

(She was desperately trying to believe she was getting out of this but f*ck this was not looking good. Hopefully liquid luck would kick in and let her do something wildly badass so she could make a run for it.)

Adult Tom insulted them, calling them cowards for never once searching for him or committing public acts in his name. All his followers begged, apologizing for their failure. Even after he crucio’d several of them they sought forgiveness.

That level of fanatic loyalty, especially since it was out of fear, was disturbing to watch.

Then he started addressing the gaps in their circle. Praising the ones who were publicly loyal and went to Azkaban, calling one a coward (probably Karakoff, hopefully she could rob him before they killed him), and doubly insulting the gaps left by the ones who had publicly renounced him but were arrested last year.

Eventually he finally addressed her, “and now, the supposed cause of my downfall as well as the means of my return. The so-called ‘Girl-Who-Lived.’”

He turned to face her, “they call her my downfall but that is not the truth. Her mother died trying to protect her, and in doing so unwittingly placed protections on her that I admit I did not foresee. It protected her from my curse, making it rebound, and destroying my body.”

“But now?” Abruptly he turned and backhanded her across the face. Hard. With her thoughts spinning she noted he had gotten her enhanced strength.

(And why did it feel like her scar was on fire when he touched her? That was not normal. An old scar shouldn’t flare up in pain, especially not in connection to someone else.

Wait… connection-)

“Now? Now she is nothing but a normal girl. Admittedly a promising duelist and skilled potions mistress, but nothing extraordinary.”

Hearing Adult Tom say what she’d always suspected was odd. She’d never bought into the mythos surrounding her, instead it’d made her think wizards were stupid for believing it.

She was right all along.

That said, hearing that her mother died protecting her made her feel... odd. She’d already know that but hearing it from her murderer’s mouth was different.

From there he went on an extremely long-winded summary of everything he’d done since his defeat. His time as a helpless spirit, finding Quirrell, trying to steal the Stone, getting beaten by Dumbledore, and fleeing again.

What was interesting was hearing how he’d learned about the tournament: from a random incompetent ministry employee and apparently decided it’d be perfect for his resurrection.

What an overdramatic, scheming megalomaniac.

He even outlined exactly how Holly was entered: apparently his original servant, Barty Crouch Jr, had his death faked by his father and was placed under the imperius curse for years until he broke free when Crouch Sr was stressed during the quidditch world cup.

(She couldn’t wait to tell Sirius what a hypocrite Crouch Sr was.)

He’d entered her by getting some Durmstrang students drunk, impersonated one with polyjuice, and snuck into the castle.

(Which never should have worked. Sure, she understood why the Hogwarts' wards didn’t keep him out: he was only entering her in the Tournament, not directly trying to harm anyone while he was there. Since he technically had no harmful intent to anybody there and wouldn’t be blocked from entering. Stupid intent-based defenses.

But why the hell didn’t Hogwarts have a way to detect Dark Marks and keep them out? Hell, why didn’t her own Map have a way to detect them? She was adding that if she survived tonight.)

After explained how an imperiused Bagman, whoever that was, turned the Cup into a portkey he finally finished his monologue.

Adult Tom turned to her, ordering “now untie her Barty, and give her back her wand.”

Once she was freed and given back her wand he smiled his sad*stic smile, “you know how to duel, but do you know the formalities? We bow to each other.”

“So are we really going to try and kill each other like civilized people then?” She smiled an overly sweet false smile, “One problem with that: I’m never bowing to you.”

His sad*stic smile grew wider. Raising his wand slightly he said, “I said bow.”

Without a sign of warning he silently cast the imperious curse on her. She felt the incredible pressure of his curse pressing against her mind but she refused to let it bow her over. The force increased when she wasn’t immediately cowed, forcing her to grit her teeth as she used her mental shields to sort of shove the curse off herself.

A quick glance up showed a visibly surprised Adult Tom looking back at her. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she flicked a finger, wandlessly summoning a gravestone behind him, sending it flying towards his back. He somehow managed to blindly twist enough to avoid being knocked over, but was still knocked off balance as it hit him.

As he stumbled Holly took stock of her situation.

Extremely angry Adult Tom in front of her? Check.

Completely surrounded by Death Eaters? Check.

Horcrux snake somewhere nearby out of sight? Check.

Anti-apparation wards still in place? Check.

Having no clue where she actually was? Check.

Altogether, it was a pretty f*cked but not unsalvageable situation. There was one spell she suspected could get her out of this. Not that she’d ever dared to cast it before.

Still, desperate times, desperate measures.

So, for the first time ever, Holly shouted “fiendfyre!”

Suddenly the air was filled with screams as she wildly waved her wand back and forth in a wide U shape, forcing Adult Tom and the Death Eaters back as the flames quickly spread. Walls of fiendfyre formed around her, massive animals forming in the flames as they chased down her attackers.

The anti-apparation barrier was working in her favor now, forcing them to either try to block the flames or run for their lives. She doubted most of them were capable of protecting themselves from it, probably only Adult Tom and the few highly skilled ones.

Which meant their only chance of survival was running their unathletic wizard bodies to safety.

No wonder they were screaming so much.

Turning, she ran towards the (luckily still there) gap in the flames, wand held out behind her and still spewing fiendfyre. Closing in on the gap she could see a couple panicking Death Eaters slowly raising their wands. Without stopping she used her free hand to summon her gun from her pocket and started shooting at them.

Normally, shooting with her off hand while running would never work, but right now she was still high on liquid luck. Both Death Eaters fell quickly before ever firing a single spell at her.

Running past their bodies, she tilted her wand down at them, making sure they got incinerated. It wouldn’t do for Adult Tom to get the idea of using a magical gun.

Sprinting further away, her head jerked to the side as she saw the giant horcrux snake rapidly approaching, somehow not burnt alive in the massive blaze. Before she could incinerate it with fiendfyre, liquid luck gave her a Great Idea.

With the luck potion guiding her, she let the horcrux snake close in on her.

Once it launched itself at her she canceled her fiendfyre, switching to using her wand to summon the Cup.

Just as she felt the snake’s teeth sinking into her hip the Cup came flying into her other hand, whisking both of them away.

The last thing Holly was fully aware of was slamming face first on the ground in front of the task’s audience, Cup in hand, giant horcrux snake still latched onto her hip. As the music and screams started she felt her exhaustion catch up and let herself sink into blissful unconsciousness.

Chapter 21: Year Four (X)

Chapter Text

When Holly returned to consciousness it was not a slow and gradual process. The instant she felt the slightest sense of awareness her eyes snapped open, and abruptly sat up, looking around for anything that needed cursing.

After a few panicked seconds of looking around she spotted her wand on a bedside table and summoned it. She was obviously in some sort of hospital, the sterile feeling was obvious. In a chair nearby Sirius was hunched over asleep but stirring slowly. That was a good sign.

“Hey, Sirius, where are we?”

His head snapped up, blankly staring at her before he rushed in to hug her. Which, ok, she could admit she liked his hugs but that didn’t stop it from hurting her still healing body. She flinched in pain slightly, making Sirius jump back.

“I’m so sorry Holly! Are you ok? Do you need a healer? Do you want a pain potion? Are you bleeding? Are-”

“Sirius! I’m fine, take a breath.” She shifted the robes someone put her in (seemed like the wizarding equivalent of a hospital gown?) to expose her injured hip. The bite wound was still visible, with a clear red outline and some bruising, but mostly healed-over looking.

Either her regenerative elixir had worked extremely well or it’d been a couple weeks. Good thing she had someone to ask.

“How long has it been?”

Sirius, looking rather stubbly and exhausted answered, “about a day and a half. The healers were amazed at how fast you started healing.” He gave her a shrewd look, “I take it you used the phoenix tears?”

“Mhm, I think I found the best way to use them.” Before Sirius could ask she asked her other pressing question. “Do you know what happened to the snake?”

“I know Dumbledore is the one that got it off you. There was something weird about it, it resisted any spells thrown at it. Dumbledore restrained it somehow but I don’t know about after that.” He sat down next to her on the bed, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re ok Prongslet. You gave us all a scare arriving like that.”

“I’m just glad it worked. I let the snake bite me just before grabbing the portkey so I could (hopefully) take it with me.”

Sirius stilled before slowly turning to her with an unreadable expression. “You... let it bite you?”

“That snake is important. It was my only chance to get it away from him.”

For some reason he looked furious, abruptly standing up and looking down at her. “You let it bite you!?”

“It was a liquid luck idea. Don’t worry, I made sure it didn’t hit anywhere important. Plus I heal super fast and (now I know) I’m immune to its venom. Relax.”

When Sirius didn’t respond immediately, she took the moment to conjure a patronus. She really didn't want to talk to him but she had no other choice. So, for the first time ever, Holly intentionally sent a message to Albus Dumbledore.

“Hey professor, I just woke up. Can we talk? It’s kinda important. Thanks.” A second later her raven patronus flew off.

Message sent, she looked back to a still furious-looking Sirius. She should say something reassuring, right?

“Soon as the old man gets her I’ll explain what happened.” Actually, wasn’t there a better way to do this? “Flory?”

Instantly the elf appeared, looking overjoyed.

‘What a massive security hole. That should not be possible. f*cking Wizards underestimating other species.’

“Can you bring us the pensieve please?”

She popped away, reappearing with it a second later. “Thank you” The elf smiled, giving Holly’s dangling legs a hug before popping away.

“There. Now I can just show you both exactly what happened once he gets here. So, did I miss anything important while I was asleep?”

Sirius, still looking furious, simply stared back at her, blinking slowly.

“What?”

“Holly,” he started slowly, “how could risking your life to bring back that snake possibly be worth it?”

Oh, now that was the question. Not that literal question of course, but whether she should be honest with everything else answering that question entails.

‘Should I tell him about the horcruxes? He deserves to know what I’ve been doing. He deserves to know what happened to Regulus. He could help me find the Locket.’

‘But what about my freedom? He seems panicked seeing me injured. He might put a tracker on me and lock me in Potter Manor. I- I don’t think he’d abandon me though. I- I guess I’ll have to trust him.’

“Sirius,” she said, turning to make eye contact, “I had a very good reason why. I’ll explain once Dumbledore gets here. Please listen to me first before you get overprotective. Ok?”

He sat back down, gently putting an arm over her shoulders, leaning his head against hers. “I can try.”

Well, that was the best she’d get.

With conspicuously good timing, Dumbledore walked in, quickly shutting the door behind him (but not quick enough to block her from seeing the guards posted outside her room). “Miss Potter, I’m glad to see you recovering so quickly. It seems you used Fawkes' gift well.”

“Those tears were invaluable. I was able to create a regenerative eternal elixir with them.”

Both of them stilled, eyes going wide. Dumbledore snapped out of it first, saying, “a regenerative eternal elixir and this is the result? I daresay you could earn your potions mastery for that. Severus taught you well.”

“Snape? He didn’t teach me anything! All he ever did in class was harass me. He even asked me how to cure werewolves in front of the NEWT examiners!” Just then she remembered something else, “and according to Adult Tom, he’s even been publishing papers in my name and taking the money!”

Sirius looked confused but Dumbledore suddenly sucked in a breath. “Holly,” he started, “what exactly happened in that graveyard?”

Holly held up a finger, “one second.” Slipping her wand into her hand she started casting every security measure and anti-eavesdropping spell she knew. After a long moment she felt the room was secure enough to talk.

Holly summoned the pensieve, letting it float in front of her. She carefully deposited her memories of the graveyard into it before gesturing for them to take it.

“This should show the full events of the graveyard. Sirius, please try not to panic.”

She watched both of them dive in, Sirius looking far more concerned than Dumbledore. While they were getting caught up Holly took the time to examine her injuries. Her hand looked and felt normal, not at all like it’d been stabbed. The only sign it ever happened was the faintest scar on her palm. Her hip was sensitive to the touch and hurt slightly to move, but she could probably walk fine if she ignored it.

If she’d healed this much already it shouldn't take long to feel normal again. Maybe another day? She did not want to stay in this hospital any longer than necessary.

After a surprisingly long time the two of them emerged from the pensieve, Sirius was obviously shaken while Dumbledore looked grim.

Sirius grabbed his face with both hands. “You quoted The Princess Bride to Voldemort. You quoted The Princess Bride to Voldemort! I don’t know if I should be proud or furious with you. Can I be both?”

“It fit the moment perfectly. How could I not?” Sirius didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, instead groaning into his hands.

Dumbledore however, was looking more serious. “That ritual… I would have expected the outcome to be worse. For Tom to almost regain his former natural appearance is unexpected.”

“That’s with me trying to botch the ‘forcefully taken’ part too. I think it’s a combination of the elixirs in my blood and that Death Eater being so loyal.”

“That seems possible.” His attention suddenly fixed on her, “elixirs plural?”

“Well I did the regenerative elixir first. Then when I found out about the dragons, I decided to make a strength elixir with its blood. After that I made a stamina elixir.” As she talked Dumbledore kept paling, so she threw in the cherry on top. “Oh, and I drank liquid luck that night too.”

Dumbledore abruptly sunk into a chair, looking panicked. Sirius however was looking between them in confusion. “Wait, do you mean he’ll gain the effects of those elixirs too?”

“I fear Miss Potter has accidentally made Tom stronger than before. The effects of the elixirs will likely carry over to him. The liquid luck may wear off or it could be permanent, making him more dangerous as he becomes recklessly overconfident and erratic. Only time will tell.”

There was only one proper response to that.

“f*ck.”

It said something about the mood in the room that neither said anything about her language.

“The good news is that, due to your actions, Tom’s return has become widely known.”

“Wait, really? How’d that happen?”

Dumbledore hesitated slightly, so Sirius spoke up. “You killed 7 Death Eaters, Holly. All of them from old pureblood families, almost all who’d previously claimed the imperious curse defense. (Excluding Crouch Jr., a publicly convicted Death Eater.) That can’t be swept under the rug, not that many at once. Add in calls the Ministry got about your fiendfyre and how you got kidnapped only to publicly return with a bloody massive snake attached… it’d be impossible to deny.”

“You foiled his planned resurrection,” Dumbledore said, giving a grim smile. “Coming back with his snake caught the entire countries’ attention. Then, by killing so many of his free followers you have considerably weakened his available forces. Exposing his vulnerable position helped Minister Bones begin rallying the Ministry for war.”

‘Well, that’s good news. Glad they’re not going full moral absolutist on me either.’

“That’s good to know but it’s not why I asked you to come, professor. What happened to the snake?”

“After I removed it from you I captured and securely restrained it. It is imbued with very dark, very powerful magic. Magic that, I believe, may be the key to his defeat.”

“I already know it’s a horcrux (“What?!”) that’s why I intentionally brought it back.”

Dumbledore, his grandfatherly disguise gone, looked at her sharply. “How do you know of those?”

“I never believed he was dead. I mean honestly, getting killed by a baby? I never believed that. So I started researching. Then I found my answer.”

Dumbledore peered at her over his glasses, “found your answer...” Only, then he seemed to think of something because he straightened up and gave her a shrewd look. “Would this answer have been found when the Chamber of Secrets was abruptly shut overnight?”

‘Dammit, how’d he’d make that connection?’

Sirius, or course, started sputtering wildly in her periphery as she stared back at Dumbledore with her best poker face. “I cannot confirm or deny any role I may or may not have played in killing the basilisk and leaving an ominous, yet helpful message afterwards.

Ignoring Sirius’s continued sputtering, Dumbledore stared back at a moment before abruptly laughing.

(Which really, that was not the proper reaction to have after learning that a then 12-year-old risked their life fixing the problem he should have handled.)

“Anyway, the snake: can you send it over to the Goblins to study? They’re pretty good at destroying horcruxes.”

Dumbledore straightened, looking… shifty? Uncomfortable maybe? Was she imagining that? “I’m afraid that I must keep it. It is a vital chance to study a living horcrux.”

Something about those words triggered a thought that occurred to back her in the graveyard.

Something that she’d desperately wanted not to be true.

Something she couldn’t deny to herself any longer.

She stared back at him, for once meeting his eyes. “You knew.”

“My girl-”

“Don’t ‘my girl’ me! You knew. Were you ever planning on telling me?”

“Holly-”

“Yes or no: were you going to tell me?”

“I-”

“Get out.”

“I’ve been-”

“Out!” She shouted, pointing at the door and wandlessly slamming it open. “I’ll give you any strategically important information later. Now go.”

Slowly, and looking back several times, he walked out, shutting the door behind him.

After a few seconds of silence she heard, “what in Loki’s name was that about?”

She turned to see a stunned looking Sirius staring at her. “It’s..I- I’m “

‘How the hell do I explain this?’

“Anytime I’m around Voldemort my scar starts hurting. When he slapped me, him touching me hurt more than the slap. Its some kind of weird connection. So when I realized living things can be horcruxes too…”

Sirius seemed to understand what she was implying because he rushed in and hugged her tight. “Hey, it's going to be alright. You’re going to be fine, we’ll figure this out.”

Sniffling into his jacket (not that she’d even admit it) Holly was glad to know Sirius didn’t hesitate to accept her even after learning she had a piece of Adult Tom’s soul stuck to her.

“Damn right Sirius. Or more realistically, we’ll give the snake to the Goblins and pay them to figure it out.”

Sirius pulled back looking wary, “are you sure? Goblins don’t exactly like witches and wizards.”

Holly glared back at him, “why do wizards think that? My account manager Gronuk is the most helpful person I’ve ever met. The Goblins have never failed at anything I’ve hired them to do. I commissioned them to help with the horcrux hunt and they did an amazing job.”

At Sirius’s questioning look she started putting more memories into the pensieve. “Here. And Sirius? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I- it's just a lot to dump on you at once.”

With that she gave him the pensieve, letting him know everything about the horcruxes, her commissioned search, and Regulus’s death.

After some time a shaken looking Sirius emerged, clearly overwhelmed with everything she’d shown him.

“Go take a walk to clear your head. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Barely giving her a nod, Sirius rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

‘Well, if he abandons me it's entirely my own fault.’

On that pleasant thought, she decided to pass the time reading. No way she was going to sleep alone in a wizarding hospital, even with ministry guards.

Sometime later she looked up from her book as Sirius came back in and sat at the end of her bed. He smiled weakly at her, leaving both everything and nothing unsaid. Glad she wasn’t going to be abandoned, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling back.

It wasn’t until the next day when Holly was finally allowed to leave under heavy guard. Her bite wound had almost entirely healed, only a slight stiffness remaining. Thankfully it seemed that Dumbledore had implied he’d given her phoenix tears earlier because nobody was questioning her rapid recovery.

Which was a good cover story. It was even partially true.

Sirius dropped her off at Hogwarts and (after a very long hug) she finally got to walk back into the school.

Unfortunately, it seemed her performance during the third task had made her even more interesting. Everyone who saw her stopped and stared, whispering to whoever they were with. A few people drew their wands and started screaming at her, but she ignored them until they started throwing spells.

After that she stuck them to the ceiling.

When someone suddenly put a hand on her shoulder, she was about to judo flip them until she noticed the distinctive silver-blond hair.

Fleur smiled at her, offering an elbow. “Want to get something to eat?”

Holly, glad for the provided escape, gave Fleur her arm and let herself be led to the kitchens.

It wasn’t until they were settled in at the kitchen’s tables Fleur said anything. “I didn’t see it myself, but I saw the pictures of your return. Finding out exactly what you survived makes it all the more impressive.”

Trying and failing not to blush, Holly simply nodded.

“Your rapid recovery is fortunate too. Dumbledore giving you phoenix tears was very generous.”

“Oh that? I got those tears right after I was picked as a champion and made a regenerative eternal elixir with them.”

Fleur froze, croissant halfway to her mouth.

‘sh*t, maybe I shouldn’t have told her that. Probably should add that to the list of secrets not to tell anyone.’

“Uh Fleur, I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone about that. I’d rather not have more people steal my blood.”

Fleur, still looking shocked, managed to nod slightly.

Naturally, that’s when Hermione came running into the kitchen, clearly about to tackle-hug her but abruptly stopping just before they made contact.

“I’m so glad you’re alright Holly! Did your elixir really work that fast or did Dumbledore actually give you more phoenix tears? Did you heal alright? Are you still in any pain? Do you have any pain potions or a treatment plan? My parents once mentioned that surgeries take-”

Holly, not understanding a word of Hermione’s word-vomit, covered Hermione’s mouth with her hand.

“I’m fine Hermione. Seriously, I made sure the snake didn’t hit me anywhere important.”

Both of them stared at her for a second before Hermione shoved her hand away, “...you let yourself be bitten?”

“I was feeling Lucky. Bringing back that snake was important.”

Hermione huffed, still upset, while Fleur laughed. “I should have guessed that a potions mistress like you would brew yourself liquid luck.”

“Brew it? Why would I do that when I could save myself months of time by buying it? And what do you mean ‘potions mistress?’ Why would you think I’m one?”

Again, both of them stared blankly at her until Hermione slowly answered in accented French “...because you have dozens of published potions alterations and have invented several potions. That’s what potions masters and mistresses do.”

“Oooh, so that's why people keep saying that. I didn’t know those articles were being published until Adult Tom, Voldemort, told me about them. Turns out it’s that bastard, Snape, publishing them and stealing my money.”

Hermione blankly stared at her before turning to Fluer. “My French must need more practice because I think she said Voldemort told her about her own papers. Did I get that right?”

“No, you understood right, Hermione.”

The two of them stared at each other for a second before they both abruptly started hysterically laughing, continuing for long enough that tears started flowing down their faces.

“Right, well I’m going to find Luna.”

“I’m right here.”

Holly jumped, turning around to see Luna standing directly behind her.

“Jeez Luna, you scared me.”

“I don’t think you're the type to be scared by anyone or anything, Holly. Your fears come from yourself, not from others.”

“That’s… scary accurate. How do you do that?” Luna, of course, only gave her a Classic Luna dreamy smile in response.

After catching the other up on the events of the graveyard (all of them, even Luna, kept staring blankly at her for some reason), afterwards going with Luna into the Forest.

She'd always been able to seen the thesterals, but for some reason they almost looked ineffably different now. Pinpointing the change was impossible, but they looked... more defined? More real? Less ominous and more gentle? Something like that.

Absently, Holly wondered if the difference was from having barely remembering seeing death before to now personally killed several people.

Regardless, Holly silently watched as Luna fed them, zoning out and listening to the Forest.

Eventually leaving Luna behind, she walked deeper into the Forest to find Shadowfax. It took some time but eventually he appeared out of the trees.

Holly stood in place as he walked several full circles around her while sniffing her. Abruptly he stopped his circling and licked her face, seemingly letting her pass his inspection. Holly threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his mane.

“I’m glad I haven't lost you. Gotta admit I’m surprised you still approved of me.”

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Eventually Shadowfax gave her a nudge as the sun started setting. Waving goodbye, Holly promised herself she'd visit him more next year.

It was a few days later when Holly did something she was overdue to do: she barged into Snape’s office.

“Potter! What-”

“I had an interesting conversation with a megalomaniac recently. Heard the funniest thing about how you’ve been publishing my papers and pocketing the money.”

Snape, the bastard, looked distinctly unimpressed. He raised a single brow, “and you would believe the word of the Dark Lord?”

“Obviously not, the dude’s crazy.”

“That ‘dude’ is a very dangerous and powerful wizard, Potter” he said, sneering. “Do not make light of him.”

“I think you’re changing the topic.” Holly gave him a falsely sweet smile, “so, would you like to confess or do I need to hire the Goblins to investigate?”

Snape stared at her briefly before doing something unimaginable: he smiled at her.

‘What the f*ck. What the f*ck. What the f*ck. What the Fu-’

“Those papers are published under your name and the earnings are being deposited into your accounts. I have turned you, Potter Brat, into a true Potions Mistress. You will forever be known as a Potions Mistress because I tricked you into becoming one without you ever realizing it.”

He leaned in over his desk, eyes filled with malicious glee. “I win, Potter Brat.”

...

...

Holly was frozen, her brain trying and failing to form thoughts.

There was nothing to be said.

What could she possibly say to that? The bastard was right; he’d won the game within the game.

He really had taught her.

Wait…

“Sooo, what you’re saying is that you intentionally gave me special treatment and tricked me into to becoming your apprentice?”

Snape, caught off guard, lurched back and paled rapidly. Their positions had reversed; Holly was smiling at Snape with malicious glee as he desperately tried and failed to see where she was wrong.

After a long moment he abruptly sat down, reached into his desk, and pulled out a large bottle of Firewhiskey. Conjuring a glass, he poured himself an excessive-looking amount and slammed it back.

(‘That is not his first time doing that. Looks like I found his coping mechanism for dealing with students.’)

“Potter Brat, you might be the best student I’ve ever had and I hate you for that.”

“Drunken Bastard, you might be the most effective professor I’ve ever had and I hate you for that.”

“Let us never discuss this again?”

“Agreed.”

With that she rushed out, leaving him to drink alone.

The last few days passed quickly. There was more staring, several duels (apparently she’d killed some of their parents? Awkward), letters making sure the snake was given to the Goblins, and Dumbledore’s farewell speech that sounded suspiciously like a call to arms.

Also new was how she occasionally felt the faintest brush of foreign emotions outside of her occlumency barriers. Any doubt she had about being a horcrux was gone.

That was Not Good but thankfully Gronuk had confirmed Dumbledore had given them the horcrux snake to study. Unfortunately, they were expecting it to take a while to figure out the key to not killing a living horcrux. She had faith they’d succeed but it was hard not to worry about.

Thankfully she was great at distracting herself.

On the last day of the semester Holly was walking with Fleur out to the Beaubaxton’s carriage.

“I’ll miss you Holly. You’ve made my time here better than I’d hoped for, ever after I was selected. Promise to write?”

“Of course. And likewise Fleur, I’m glad you were chosen, even if the whole tournament was a sh*tshow.”

“You might be seeing me again soon.” Fleur smiled cryptically, “I think I’ll be back. I’ve applied for a position at Gringotts so I can stay here to fight.”

Holly abruptly stopped walking, feeling her stomach drop as her face paled. She tugged on Fleur’s arm, gently forcing the girl to stop and face her.

“I- its, m-” Holly looked down at the snow, trying to order her panicked thoughts. “My parents. Those brave and stupidly naive people. They jumped into a war they weren't prepared for right after graduation. Within 4 years they’d gotten married, had me, and were killed."

Holly looked up at Fleur through watering eyes. “Don’t end up like them. Don’t let your bravado or blind trust in Dumbledore lead you to an early death. Do you understand me?”

Fleur, clearly taken back, nodded and she wiped away one of Holly’s fallen tears. “I understand.”

“Good. Take care of yourself, Fleur.”

With a final two kisses to her cheeks and a wave Fleur walked off to her carriage.

It was sometime later Hermione found her standing in the same place, a few tears still frozen on her face.

“I don’t want to pry Holly, but did she break your heart?”

“What? No, definitely not.” Honestly, what was Hermione thinking? She wasn’t interested in Fleur like that. She just found Fleur (ridiculously and devastatingly) attractive. “She said she wants to fight. I told her not to end up like my parents.”

“Oh. I can see how that’d be an uncomfortable parallel.” Hermione wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, the train's leaving soon.”

Still not recovered from her chat with Fleur, Holly spent the entire train ride only vaguely aware of Hermione and Luna talking in the background.

Some hours later Holly mechanically stepped onto Kings Cross platform. She was pulled out of her daze seeing the obvious fear among the crowd of parents. She wanted to be mad at them, they had magic but never bothered to learn how to defend themselves. f*cking Wizards not appreciating their inborn gift of magic.

Only, she couldn’t stay mad after seeing they were all anxiously looking for their kids. The instant any of them spotted their kid they rushed forward, apparating away immediately.

Sirius, with several auror guards nearby, found her quickly. “C’mon Prongslet” and grabbed her shoulder before apparating away.

They reappeared in a playground somewhere near Privet Drive. Sirius glanced over at her, “you can still go ‘back to the Dursleys’ but I think they should take an international trip this year. Sound good?”

Did he mean what she thought he did? Only one way to find out. “I think they’ll be paying France or Spain a visit.”

“Excellent. Take care of yourself Prongslet and mirror call me if you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine Sirius, get outta here.” With a final crushing hug and kiss to the top of her head, he apparated away, leaving her alone and free.

“Well, guess I’m going international. Good thing I’ve already got those calling cards made.”

Chapter 22: Summer 1995

Chapter Text

It was two weeks into summer break and, once again, Holly was reading a newspaper detailing the exploits of The Phantom Thief. Once again she’d robbed 14 corrupt rich targets over 2 weeks, only this time they were all in Spain. She’d had fun sneaking around their homes and finding their “hidden” safes.

This time there was a frontpage picture of her calling card: a slip of paper with a picture of a cute ghost wearing a thief’s mask and carrying a money sack. She’d printed them out and left one at each crime scene. Something about claiming her robberies was viciously satisfying.

If she was using her crime spree as distraction? Well, that was nobody's business.

(She very carefully wasn’t thinking about what might be going on back in Britain. Or about how she kept feeling the faintest sense of foreign emotions outside her mental barriers.

She might hate the so-called “wizarding world” but she didn’t want to abandon them and let their dumbasses get killed. But she knew she wasn’t ready to fight Adult Tom or attack groups of Death Eaters in a straight fight. Likewise, any attempted assassinations of the Death Eaters would only alert them to a threat. It’d only make things worse. She needed to wait for an opportunity. Which meant leaving them to their fates for now.

It was only 2 weeks. Wizarding society was seeming helpless but surely they couldn’t be that inept. They could handle it. Hopefully.)

She’d stolen a lot this time: a fortune’s worth of bills, jewelry, books, and a couple gold bars. Even the Goblins were impressed with her haul.

It begged the question: what was she going to do with all the money? She could hoard it but that felt rather pointless. She was already rich enough that making money felt like increasing her score in a video game. Even without stealing anything her investments were making a shocking amount of money.

Maybe she could invest in non-magical businesses? That’d be smart, some of those computer companies looked like they had promise. Besides, if she invested all her stolen money into the wizard economy she could accidentally cause rampant inflation.

But investing would still only make her richer. Maybe she could go full Robinhood and donate the money? That’d be a good thing to do. Thematically appropriate too.

She’d need to launder the money first but she had no doubt the goblins could do that, for a fee. After that it shouldn’t be too hard to set up a couple charities under several false identities.

She’d need to pitch the idea to Gronuk. Hopefully the idea of giving away money wouldn’t be taboo to them.

Nodding to herself, Holly apparated to Potter Manor and let herself in.

It took about 2 seconds for Flory to appear next to her and shove a tray piled high with food into her hands. Before she could react Flory popped away with a smug grin, leaving Holly alone in the entrance hall, holding a tray of food.

Staring down at the food, Holly still wasn’t sure that’d just happened.

Naturally, that was when Sirius came running in. Fortunately for the food he managed to come to a sliding stop before hugging her.

“Prongslet! Welcome back, hope you enjoyed yourself.” His wide smile shifted to something vaguely nervous looking. “So, do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Good news first, bad news will motivate me.”

Sirius stared for a second before starting. “After you left I started looking for the Locket. I had to go back to my childhood home and fight my family's crazy old elf, but I got it to the goblins. Your account manager was terrifying but he took the job and purified it. When I went back to Grimmauld Place afterwards, Kreacher lost his mind when he saw the Locket was purified.”

Sirius huffed, “he cleaned the entire house in no time and kept bowing to me. Creepiest thing I’ve ever seen. At least he saved us weeks of cleaning time.”

That…was amazing news. One less horcrux! Now it was only the Snake and Holly herself.

“Is that all the good news?”

Sirius shifted in place, “well, Dumbledore reformed The Order. That’s good news. But other then that? Its been pretty bad.”

“Where to start? Oh yeah, the dementors defected when Voldemort broke his followers out of Azkaban. He personally led the attack on the day you Hogwarts students got back knowing Kings Cross would be the main suspected target. Since then they’ve started attacking muggleborn owned shops and houses. It’s… not good out there.”

That was Very Bad news. How the hell did that happen? She should’ve assassinated those Death Eaters in their Azkaban cells years ago.

Oh well, too late now. She’d still kill them later.

And the dementors! She’d already had ‘figure out how to kill dementors’ on her long term goals but looks like that needed to get bumped up in priority.

“Second bit of bad news: “the goblins are studying the snake but they’re not sure how long it’ll take to solve that issue. Being attached to a living thing apparently makes removing the soul fragment more complicated. Now, since yours has been attached for almost 14 years it’d be even harder to remove safely. They have hope but it’ll take them some time.”

“That’s… not awful?” It was a complete lie, she wanted it out and wanted it done yesterday. She hated feeling foreign emotions outside her mental shields. She didn’t think Adult Tom realized it yet but once he did her life would get hellish.

(Holly tried not to think about how tempted she was to try and attack his mind. How, If she caught him off guard, she could undoubtedly do major damage or even shatter his mind. But she remembered how hard it was to beat Diary Tom. Adult Tom would undoubtedly have superior mental defenses.)

“Anything else?”

Sirius looked rather awkward and scratched his neck. “Dumbledore went to check on you at the Dursleys and realized you weren’t there. He… wasn’t happy with me when he realized I’d known you ran away years earlier. I lied and told him you’ve been staying here.”

“Thanks for covering for me. I’m still surprised it took him so long to find out. Anything else?”

“Now that you’re back we can go visit headquarters. Dumbledore will want to chew you out but you can meet some of the Order members while you’re there. The Weasleys are all staying there, do you know them?”

“Uh, kinda?” How exactly was she supposed to explain she’d rescued one from possession and was planning on going into business with the Twins?

Wait- “What about Hermione? Do you know if she’s there or if her family is safe?”

“Your muggleborn lady friend?” When Holly glared at him he quickly continued, “Dumbledore had her brought to headquarters for her protection since she’s publicly known as your friend. I think some of the others warded her parents’ house too.”

“That’s better than nothing I guess.” At least now Hermione wouldn’t potentially risk her life defending her parents. Holly hadn’t even broken the Trace for her yet!

“But wait, what about all the other muggleborns? If Hermione was singled out, are they not being protected?”

Sirius simply shook his head. “C’mon kid, once we get to headquarters (and after Dumbledore chews you out) we can talk strategy.”

Walking out of Potter Manor, Sirius grabbed her shoulder and apparated her to a random city street. “Here, read the note.”

In vaguely familiar, obnoxiously curly writing it read: The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

When Holly looked up suddenly there was a whole new building, presumably the Order’s headquarters.

“Fidelius charm then? And I’m assuming Dumbledore's the secret-keeper?”

Sirius simply nodded as they approached. “Glad it’s him and Wormtail isn’t here to mess things up this time.”

Sirius knocked a specific sequence on the door and it opened up, revealing a dark and gloomy, yet surprisingly clean interior. Holly didn’t get to look around any more than that because within seconds Dumbledore, professor Moody, and a small crowd of strangers appeared at the end of the hall.

“Ah miss Potter, glad you could make it.” Oh, now there was a condescending greeting to match his expression. Good thing she didn’t care about his opinion.

“Thanks for inviting me to your clubhouse, professor.”

Before she could take another step inside professor Moody suddenly had his wand pointed at her. “Not so fast, we need to verify who you are.” Ignoring Dumbledore and everyone else’s complaints, he asked “what was the first private conversation we ever had about?”

“You offered to train me for the tournament. I agreed but gave you several conditions.”

“Hm, can’t be too careful. Constant Vigilance!” he yelled, making everyone either flinch or twitch in annoyance.

“Thank you Alastar, but I need to talk with miss Potter.” His tone sounded calm but she and everyone else could hear the implied order. Gesturing to her, Dumbledore led her into a private room down the hall and shut the door behind her.

Avoiding eye contact, she sat down and pretended not to notice Dumbledore radiating ‘I’m disappointed in you’ feelings.

“Would you like to explain why you left your relatives house?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Holly asked, staring at his beard in disbelief. “Did you really illegally leave me there without knowing what type of people they are? Without ever checking in? They were terrible, abusive people. I ran away years ago and you never even noticed.”

“I wa-”

“And while we’re on that note: what gave you the authority to put me there? You’re a politician, a headmaster, and a vigilante leader. None of that gave you the right to put me there and none to punish me now for leaving either.”

“You are a major target in this war.” He countered, “if I don’t know where you are then The Order cannot protect you.”

“I never asked for your protection.” Honestly, she wouldn’t trust any of them with her safety other than Sirius (and Fleur if she’d joined already). Why would she? They were all Dumbledore’s groupies and most of them inept groupies at that. “Besides, wouldn’t I be safer since nobody knew where I was?”

Clearly ignoring her (completely true) point, Dumbledore sighed. “I ask that you take your personal safety more seriously. There were many people worried about you.”

“I take my safety very seriously, it's just not under your control. Now, is there anything else?”

Visibly debating what to say, he started with “I am sorr-

“Nope, you don’t get to apologize for that. Now, do you have a strategy for winning this?”

“A strategy?” he asked, clearly off-balanced.

“I mean doing something other than being reactive. Any plans to attack the known Death Eaters houses? Are you working with the ministry to find the escapees? Have you created a way to respond to attacks faster so you can actually protect people? Are you evacuating muggleborns and their families to safehouses for protection? Are you working on capturing the rogue dementors? Anything like that?”

The longer she talked the more indigent yet embarrassed he seemed and a horrible suspicion started to form. “My girl-”

“Please tell me you are doing more than just responding to attacks in progress.”

“We are working with the Ministry on several matters, including rounding up the dementors and trying to find where the Azkaban’s escaped prisoners are being sheltered. Unfortunately, even with Minister Bones’ support, we cannot attack suspected Death Eaters' residences without receiving the Wizengamot’s permission, and they are unlikely to give it.”

“Wait, you can’t go after known Death Eaters' without Death Eaters sympathizers in the government blocking the vote?” She thought it was too absurd to be true even by wizard standards but he nodded.

‘f*cking Wizards. Why do I even want to help them? Their society is a corrupt aristocracy of inept, inbred bigots. Even the “good ones” are fighting to preserve the status quo. If they survive this then I’m either ditching them or dragging their asses into competence.’

“What about sheltering muggleborns at safehouses? Warding their homes is better than nothing but not enough to guarantee their safety.”

Again, Dumbledore shifted awkwardly. “Wait, you’ve been expecting Adult Tom to come back this whole time but you never set up any safehouses beforehand? You’re stupid famous and have several jobs, don’t tell me you don’t have the money?”

“Hindsight is a powerful phenomenon and Tom’s return was abrupt. I admit I could have prepared better.” At her glare he continued, “most of The Order’s members do not have the resources or skills to make a safehouse. Sirius inherited the Black estate but his family's properties have fallen into disrepair.”

“So hire the Goblins to get them fixed and cleaned. That’s what I did with Potter Manor” She thought it was obvious but Dumbledore stilled like she’d slapped him. “I can offer any of the Potter properties. Sirius can get his cleaned up, then you can cast the Fidelius charm on all of them. That’d let us hide at least a dozen families.”

She risked a glance directed at his face only to see him frozen, shocked into silence.

That… was rather sad he hadn’t thought of that. It was exactly like she’d thought earlier: Dumbledore was a skilled wizard and generally smart guy, but a terrible general. Too surrounded by Yes Men to ever be challenged with new ideas.

“Anymore bad news?” It didn’t seem possible, but she had a feeling there was more.

“I sent envoys to the giants but they were… rebuked, rather harshly. Tom’s envoys were there and had already gained the giant’s favor. I believe Tom will have their full support going forward.”

That… was not good. Dumbledore’s ambassador failing their mission wasn’t surprising. Giants were severely mistreated by every so-called ‘wizarding nation’, it wasn’t surprising they’d be willing to fight against them. Unless British wizards suddenly cared about Giant’s rights (which they didn’t in the slightest) then they had nothing to gain from siding with the status quo.

Only, they were already so limited in number that this could legitimately push them to extinction. There was something profoundly disturbing about that.

Still, the tiny glimmer of good news in that situation was that her chance of getting Giant’s skin for her durability elixir just skyrocketed.

“Additionally, with the dementor’s defection they are now roaming the country under Tom’s command. The muggles cannot see them, instead seeing fog, but can still feel their effects. The Ministry is attempting to catch them but that would be a difficult task at the best of times.”

‘Now that’s why you don’t trust soul-sucking monsters and you definitely don’t have them guard your prison. f*cking Wizards.’

“So is there any good news?”

“Indeed, one of your ideas in fact” he said, a smile in his voice. “Your proposed cure for werewolves was reported both in the Daily Prophet and Potions Weekly. In the weeks since, it has spread internationally, with Healers and Potions Masters globally beginning to study its feasibility.”

Wait, what?

“What?”

“If your suggested cure works then you may be formally accredited with helping invent the cure for lycanthropy.” Dumbledore smiled at her obvious confusion, “Naturally, with a potential cure on the horizon, werewolves everywhere are waiting in anticipation. Some will still want to fight of course, but others might be willing to take the chance to be cured. Tom will have a more difficult time recruiting them to his side.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good.” Really, what was she supposed to say to that?

“Quite. Now, do you have any other questions?”

Pushing her panicking feelings aside, she took a moment to think. What else would she want to ask? Knowing more about the Order and who might be competent would be nice. Good thing there was an easy way to do both.

“Can I sit in on the next Order meeting?”

“I’m afraid not as you are underaged.” (‘Oh, so you only indoctrinate children, not make them child soldiers. How noble of you.’) “Sirius may want to allow you as your legal guardian, but, as you say, this is my ‘clubhouse.’”

“Fine.” With that she made her way out, inwardly wondering if either Sirius or Fleur would tell her anything more later.

She was distracted enough that she was completely caught off guard when a blur of curly hair tackle-hugged her. Even with her vision blocked she still heard Dumbledore chuckle as he passed by (probably to go order around his minions.)

“I’m so glad you’re finally here Holly! Nobody knew where you and everyone was so worried until Sirius told them. Even Dumbledore was worried! Professor Moody was raving about how you had gotten yourself kidnapped and were already dead. Even the T-”

Her verbal barrage was only cut off when Holly covered her mouth with a hand. “Hello to you too Hermione. So who all is here?”

Pushing her hand off, Hermione said “well almost the entire Weasley family is living here for some reason. I know you know the twins but have you ever really met the others?” Without waiting for an answer to her own redundant question she continued, “Percy is very serious and ambitious, Ron is tactless and academically lazy, and Ginny is a fangirl of yours.”

“And I’m assuming they’re all Dumbledore’s biggest fans?” Holly whispered, eyeing the suspiciously empty hallway.

Hermione nodded, “Ron has always been quite vocal in the common room about how Dumbledore will always solve everything. He’s also very dedicated to the House stereotypes and doesn’t like you much since you’ve ignored him several times.”

Holly snorted, “wonderful.” Only, then another thought occurred to her, “Not to prove Ron right, but have you found the library here?”

“Of course,” Hermione said, mock offended. Quickly looking back and forth first, Hermione leaned in to whisper “They tried to get rid of some of the books! I made copies of them and saved the originals.”

“I have taught you well, my apprentice.” Hermione rolled her eyes, clearly not appreciating her flawlessly timed Star Wars reference.

(That reminded her, she never did figure out how to replicate Force Choking someone…)

Before they could continue the Twins decided to make themselves known.

By apparating directing in front of Holly.

Holly wasn’t quite sure what happened next, but suddenly one Twin was slumped against the opposite wall, while the other was staring at her still outstretched fist.

“Uh, sorry? I don’t react well to being startled. But I was actually about to go looking for you two.”

Groaning, the hurt Twin slowly stood up, checking for broken bones, while other Twin checked him over.

“Well Forge?”

“Yeah Gred?”

“Looks like you just learned what the wrath of the ‘Violent Recluse’ feels like.”

“Doesn't feel too good.”

“Sure looks that way.”

Throwing his arm over his Twins’ shoulder, the injured one asked “So what were you about to seek us out for?”

“Business.” That had them straightening out immediately, any sign of injury disappearing. “I left you a note about it a while back.”

“Wait-”

“Are you telling me-”

“You’re the one that busted into our room-”

“Stole our Map-”

“Left a business proposition-”

“Then later returned it with interest?”

“Yes? I can have my accounts manager at Gringotts draw up a contract for my investment in your business, probably will only take a few minutes.”

The Twins shared a glance. “We’re… not exactly supposed to leave.”

“Mum would throw a fit.”

(“And there are Death Eater attacks going on,” Hermione muttered, going unheard.)

“You… arn’t allowed to leave? If you disguise yourself and apparate to Gringotts front steps you’d be safe.”

“We’re of age, yeah, but Mum dosn’t like us using magic outside of school.”

What the hell…

“I don’t understand.” Seriously.

“Parents usually set house rules Holly” Hermione said, this time being heard. “Miss Weasley may be strict, but it’s not crazy with all the attacks going on. She’s probably only trying to keep them safe.”

“How does banning her kids using or practicing magic outside of school, despite the Trace not applying, make them safer?”

None of them had a good answer, all simply shrugging at her.

Speaking of the Trace- “Hey Hermione, you remember when I asked if hypothetically you’d like me to break the Trace on you?”

“Oh?” Hermione asked, single eyebrow raised.

“Hypothetically, we could do that if you visited Potter Manor. Hell, why don’t you just stay there with me instead of here?”

“That sounds great! I'd love to see your families library!.”

“Cool, we can grab those books, talk to Sirius, and-” only to be interrupted when several people rushed down the staircase, Professor Lupin and Sirius in the lead.

“Holly! I, uh, know we never talked while I was your professor but I, uh, wanted to thank you so, so much” Professor Lupin said, looking both extremely grateful and awkward at once. “I don’t know if you ever, er, figured out my, ah, ‘little fluffy problem’ but-”

“It’s no big deal.” Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because his expression fell and Hermione elbowed her. “You’re welcome?”

Before he could stutter out a reply Sirius took pity on them and interrupted. “You can come by Potter Manor anytime Remus. Now, have you met everyone yet?” he asked , gesturing to the group of adults and gaggle of redhead kids.

“No?”

“Well it’s always good to know people. This is Kingsley, he’s-” as Sirius kept talking she glanced over at Hermione, mentally projecting “Go get the books while they’re distracted.” Nodding back at Holly, Hermione quickly left the room and Holly focused on shaking hands and saying meaningless greetings at the right time.

Holly thought it was going well until she was introduced to a matronly looking redhead, presumably the Weasley’s mother. Instead of shaking her hand and giving a meaningless greeting like the others, she instantly started berating Holly.

“-were you thinking of running off alone?! Did you have any idea how dangerous that was?! How badly you scared all of us?! Sirius never should have let you move away from your relatives. Your parents-”

“My parents,” Holly interrupted, “are dead. How they might’ve reacted is none of your damn business.”

Something in her tone must’ve been off because in her periphery she saw nearly everyone wince and seemingly brace themselves. The Weasley mother however, was undeterred, instead puffing up in anger.

“Young lady! That is no kind of language to be using! Clearly Sirius hasn’t been raising you right if-”

“Tell me how I’m a f*ck up one more time and-”

“Whoa, everyone calm down” Sirius said, getting between the two of them. “Molly, I’d like to remind you Holly is legally my child (‘Oh sh*t, is that actually true?’) and that you’re a guest here. Molly, I've already talked to Holly about this. Now Holly, are you ready to go?”

Spotting Hermione coming down the staircase carrying a trunk, she nodded. After a few awkward goodbyes and a meaningful look at the Twins, Sirius apparated them back to Potter Manor.

“Sorry about that Holly. Molly means well but as a mother she can be a little… overbearing.” Sirius said, awkwardly rubbing his neck.

“I noticed.” Turning towards Hermione she asked “do you want to get settled in or break the Trace first?”

Hermione, practically buzzing with excitement, nodded quickly. “That’s not an answer but ok then. Don’t move.” Before Hermione could respond she tossed down the carved wooded rune blocks around the girl and activated them.

“Tractiare. Tractiare. Tractiare.” There was a popping noise and Hermione jerked like she'd been shocked, but it seemed to have worked. “There, you are now free from Big Brother.”

For some reason both Sirius and Hermione glanced down to stare at the now useless blocks before blankly staring at her. “What?”

“Thats it?!” “It was that easy the whole time?!” They both shouted at the same time.

“Well, yeah. The Trace was made by a cheap government and only ever used to discriminate against Muggleborns and some half bloods, both groups who largely follow the law. Of course it’d be easy to get around once you figure out how it works. Were you expecting me to sacrifice a goat or something?”

The two of them shared a Look before simultaneously shaking their heads, leaving a very confused Holly behind.

Unfortunately, things didn’t exactly settle down after meeting the Order. Holly, and Sirius after she convinced him, hired Gringotts to ensure their empty properties were cleaned and safe. Once they heard the cleaning was done Sirius left to help Dumbledore convert them into safehouses. Sirius was out almost every day after that helping to move muggleborns and their families to safety.

Apparently he was one of the only ones with any real experience talking to non magical people. When Holly and Hermione heard that they shared a look of complete disbelief. That certainly didn’t help change Holly’s belief that the Order was mostly inept.

Holly, of course, offered to shelter Hermione’s parents only to receive a panicked look in response. It took some pointed questions, but Hermione slowly admitted she’d been lying for years about how dangerous her time at Hogwarts had been.

Which, honestly? It wasn’t hard to understand why. Any sane parent would expect their kids’ school was safe and Hogwarts certainly wasn’t. In hindsight she wouldn’t be surprised if every muggleborn did the same.

That certainly wouldn’t make relocating them easier.

Sirius, in a shocking display of acting his age, talked Hermione into being honest with her parents. The two of them left to tell Hermione’s parents, (apparently they both agreed Holly shouldn’t be included in that conversation for some reason?) not coming back until hours later with dried tear tracks down Hermione’s face.

While a dejected looking Hermione drifted into her room, an awkward looking Sirius explained. “Her parents… weren’t exactly happy she lied to them for years. Wanted to pull her completely out of the Magical World. Said ‘magic tricks weren’t worth risking her life.’ It took a while and wasn’t pretty, but they agreed to start looking to sell their muggle tooth business and move out. It’ll take them some time, but they’ll eventually be moving in.”

There wasn’t really anything to say to that. Holly didn’t know what having parents were like. Sirius was (technically) hers but certainly not a real parent and the Dursleys never wanted to be.

All Holly could do is try to be supportive and hope they’d work out their issues in time.

(Unknown to them, they wouldn’t ever get that time.)

Chapter 23: Summer 1995 (II)

Chapter Text

Looking at a bloodied and hysterically sobbing Hermione, Sirius futilely trying to calm her, Holly felt too numb to think. How could this have happened?

It was a dumb question. She knew exactly how this came to be.

After Hermione’s falling out with her parents Holly did her best to distract her friend. She asked if Hermione wanted to help her make a Force Choke spell (it ended up being shockingly easy, taking them only a couple hours to master wandlessly); give her free reign over the Manor’s library (that earned an actual look of excitement); offered to talk about boys (after a very awkward start they both agreed Cedric Diggory was rather pretty); and tried to get her to binge some movies and video games (Hermione laughed at The Princess Bride, Holly counted it as a win).

Despite all that, Hermione was clearly still out of it. Whenever left to visit her parents with Sirius she came back looking worse.

Having parents seemed complicated.

After a week preparing Hermione’s parents were finally ready to move into Potter Manor. Knowing they needed the extra hands and moral support, Holly offered her help to move and apparated over with them.

What greeted them was a sight none of them were expecting: houses crushed to rubble; trees knocked over; fire and smoke clogging the air, limiting visibility and stinging her eyes; screams of pain and fear coming from all sides. It looked like a warzone, or that a tornado had blown through the neighborhood, something that was explained a second later when she saw the figure of a giant stomping through a row of houses nearby.

Unfortunately, the giant wasn’t alone. Several cloaked Death Eaters were following behind, laughing as they casually picked through the rubble for survivors.

Hermione, staring at the scattered debris that used to be her house, let out a heart wrenching sob and ran towards the rubble. Sirius glanced between them, clearly torn between following Hermione or guarding Holly.

Unfortunately for him, Holly was in motion before he could decide.

The battle that followed only ever came back to her in flashes. Pulling out her prototype magical handgun. Apparating behind the Death Eaters. Her gun’s recoil as bodies fell. Flashes of curses flying back and forth. Decapitating the last Death Eater when his shield broke. The giant attempting to stomp on her. Turning two transfigured knives into portkeys. The look on the giants’ face as it was simultaneously portkeyed to two different places.

Holly wasn’t sure how long the fight lasted. When she became aware of her body again she was splattered in Giant blood, surrounded by bodies and bloodied remains. Looking at where the giant had been, there was only a pool of blood and fleshy chunks.

Trying not to think about what she’d just done, Holly quickly grabbed several scraps of the giant’s skin and turned away.

That’s when she spotted Sirius nearby, fighting another trio of Death Eaters. They didn’t seem as good as him, but he was forced onto the defensive through numbers.

Of course, that changed quickly when Holly attacked them. Between her and Sirius’s spells they fell quickly.

A quick attempt to scan their minds showed only one was still alive and he was nearly useless. A brand new recruit who'd come from Germany to join up. Apparently this was an initiation for everyone here, excluding the senior Death Eater leading the attack.

Who they hadn’t seen yet.

Who had a Dark Mark and could summon Adult Tom immediately.

“We need to call in reinforcements and go! There’s still more of them around.” Nodding back at her, Sirius sent off a messenger patronus as they sprinted back to Hermione.

Hermione had managed to uncover her parents but, well, they were long dead. Apparently Hermione had given up on them because she wasn’t trying to heal them, instead sobbing over their corpses.

Holly… had no idea how to help with that. Instead she silently put an arm around Hermione’s shoulders, letting the girl lean into her.

“C’mon, we can take them with us but we need to go.” Nodding slowly, Hermione wiped at her face and transfigured them both into a tooth. Holding her hand, they all apparated back to Potter Manor just as the first Order members started popping in.

Reappearing on the front lawn of Potter Manor, Holly held Hermione tight as the girl sobbed. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but it wasn’t until after the sun had started sinking Hermione was out of tears.

“Do you want them buried here?” At Hermione’s nod she conjured a shovel. It took some time to do by hand, but eventually they’d buried them properly and carved a small headstone.

Supporting the exhausted girl as they walked towards the Manor, Holly still had no idea what to say. Other than that she was overdue to tell Hermione everything.

“I was able to check one of those Death Eater’s mind: attacking a random neighborhood was their initiation. They weren’t specifically targeting your parents but the wards drew their attention. The one leading them was named Yaxley.”

Hermione only nodded slightly but Holly didn’t miss how her eyes were filled with murder.

That… was probably something she should keep an eye on.

“I think it’s time I should tell you everything too.”

That got Hermione to react, pushing away her arm and glaring. “Oh? Do I finally have the right to learn another of the great Holly Potter’s precious secrets? Do you think that now my parents were murdered by Death Eaters I’m finally trustworthy? That I’m too sad to ever get sick of your bullsh*t?”

Hermione lashing out wasn’t surprising. Holly let her finish before saying, “I… have no clue what having loving parents are like. I don’t know what you’ve lost. My relatives were abusive; the first mind I ever read was my Aunt’s because I wanted to know why they beat me. Immediately after learning about magic I ran away and was homeless before Hogwarts.”

She tried to give a smile. “I want to be completely honest with you because you deserve to know. Have deserved to know for a while. I’m never open with people to protect myself but you’re my friend; I've trusted completely for a while.”

“Now’s probably a bad time, but we can talk when you’re ready.” Giving Hermione’s hand a squeeze, she left the other girl to her thoughts.

The next few days were something of a blur. Hermione was a mess, subdued in a way she never was normally.

Dumbledore came and told them what all happened after they’d left. The Ministry and Order had managed to catch a couple of the Death Eater recruits, but Yaxley and the rest got away. Worse, all of the captured ones were newbies too, they didn’t know anything useful. In the end the whole situation was covered up as an explosion caused by a gas leak.

At least the muggleborn evacuation was going faster after other families heard about the attack. Dumbledore tried to apologize to Hermione after mentioning that, but still got an impressive death glare from the girl.

Desperate to help her friend feel better, Holly invited Fleur and Luna over. Fleur tried her best but, unsurprisingly in hindsight, it was Luna that managed better. After a private conversation between the two Hermione came back with fresh tears but looked noticeably better. Naturally Holly gave them both a standing invite and spare bedrooms to use at the Manor afterwards.

(If anyone accused Holly of blushing during her offer to Fleur they were a dirty liar who lies.)

Unfortunately, Holly got another nasty shock after the attack.

Their fighting skills, or more specifically their dueling skills were, well, they were something.

When Holly had first seen Hermione at their dueling practice with professor Moody last year Holly wasn’t sure if everyone was that bad, if she was just inexperienced, or if it was a Hermione thing. Hermione wasn’t exactly a physically active or coordinated person after all. As she slowly improved from her meager beginnings Holly assumed it was because Hermione herself didn’t have the natural aptitude.

And yet, during their duels Hermione could easily beat Luna. That wasn’t too surprising, Luna was a year younger and not an aggressive person.

What was shocking was that Hermione could put up a decent fight against Fleur. Hermione almost always lost, but occasionally she managed to find an opening and disarm Fleur. The first time that happened everyone besides Luna stared in shock. Fleur looked torn between being impressed and embarrassed before vowing to practice more.

The less said about comparing them to Holly’s own skill the better. She could beat any of them on their own, even Fleur. Could beat both Hermione and Luna whenever they teamed up. It was… enlightening.

Fleur, a triwizard champion with formal dueling training and an Order member – someone comfortably above average for adults in dueling skill – couldn’t beat Holly.

It made Holly realize something: most wizards were pushovers. If Hermione, who was apparently decent after receiving a year’s worth of dueling lessons, despite having lower aptitude, then what about the rest? Functionally helpless fools.

No wonder Voldemort could steamroll the country: wizards had a superiority complex so large they never realized against any marginally competent person they were helpless as a baby. If the average Death Eater had any dueling experience whatsoever they’d be stronger then the vast majority of the wizarding population.

It was a concerning realization, to put mildly. And from their expressions they knew it. Hopefully under her’s and Sirius’s tutelage and with them practically living at Potter Manor they’d improve quickly.

A few days after her parent’s death Hermione took the first chance at privacy to ambush her for answers. It took over an hour, but Holly upheld her promise and told Hermione everything.

How she’d been abused. Living in her Trunk. Stealing the memories of Diary Tom. Killing the basilisk. Her international trips and robbing rich fools.

Everything.

The look on Hermione’s face throughout her confessions was indescribable, torn between too many conflicting emotions.

After several minutes of shocked silence, Hermione managed to ask was “so you weren’t joking when you said ‘you’ve got Voldemort on the ropes?’”

“You really think I’d lie about that? I’m offended. I am a beacon of truth and integrity.” After Hermione giggled at her faux-affronted tone it was impossible to regret opening up.

Thankfully the surprise was better than the last: a surprise birthday party.

Considering she’d forgotten the date it actually was a surprise.

(If her hands twitched with aborted lethal curses when they all jumped out, well, thankfully only Hermione, Fleur, and Luna seemed to notice. Good thing for that.)

It… wasn’t awful, at least at first. Sure, it was extremely awkward making small-talk with the Order members Sirius invited but thankfully one of her friends was always there to rescue her if they got weirdly enthusiastic at meeting her.

Seeing the Weasley Twins again was nice, as was hearing about how they'd successfully snuck out to Gringotts and gotten her investment in their business formalized. She was certain they’d be profitable soon enough.Or, at least own the war was over. Assuming they survived.

Unfortunately, seeing the other Weasley kids was nowhere near as pleasant. Ronald radiated awkwardness, clearly only present because his parents forced him to be. Ginny was the opposite and kept babbling about Quidditch to her. Percy was the embodiment of a pompous beaurocrat, made worse by the fact he was a wizard beaurocrat.

And the less said about Bill the better. That bastard was making eyes at Fleur.

Holly didn’t care. She didn’t. Really. The fact Fleur seemed interested in him as well didn’t matter in the slightest.

Eventually, like most birthday parties (according to the memories she’d stolen) there was cake with 15 candles, some very awkward singing, and gift giving. She tried to look thankful and not weirded out by a bunch of strangers giving her things but probably failed judging by Hermione’s expression.

It was right as Holly was about to eat her cake that things suddenly went terribly wrong.

Apparently Adult Tom was feeling left out. Or maybe Adult Tom wanted to remind her of his existence. Whatever the reason, Holly abruptly felt a sudden stabbing pain in her scar as he battered her mental defenses.

Simultaneously the partygoers abruptly went silent as they spotted a crowd apparate in just outside the Manor’s wards. Sure enough, there, in front of his Death Eaters and other assorted goons, was Adult Tom.

Without fanfare he raised his wand to the sky and rapidly cast several spells, causing a transparent glowing dome to expand in front of him. Within seconds it fully encased the Manor’s wards. There wasn't any visible effect but that didn’t stop the purpose from being obvious.

They were trapped.

Of course, several people felt the need to yell to obvious while others appeared to freeze in terror.

“That’s an anti-apparation and portkey barrier! Floo too, I'll bet!”

“-bloody You-Know-Who out there-”

“We’re doomed!”

“-brooms? We could fly away down to-”

“-Ministry won’t get here in time!”

Ignoring the pain from the continued mental attack along with the background noise of panicking adults yelling, Holly retreated into her own mind to think. What could they do?

If Adult Tom wasn’t a complete fool, then all instantaneous modes of escapes would be blocked. No apparition, portkeys, or floo. Brooms are the obvious workaround but would be expected. Could easily be blocked by the barrier too.

What did that leave?

There was something she was missing, there had to be. She wasn’t getting killed here, not by a racist wizard cult.

She needed more time to think. Needed to strengthen the wards by pulling them back to cover less area. But she never checked how to do that! Damn her past self for not being paranoid enough.

Good thing there was someone to ask.

“Flory!” She shouted, only to dumbly glance down at the terrified elf when she suddenly appeared with an almost-silent pop.

…f*cking wizards. Just… f*cking Wizards.

Turning back towards the panicking group to share the good news, Holly suddenly had both her shoulders grabbed and shaken by a grim looking Sirius as he shouted at her. Had she missed something?

“-need to get out of here! We can hold him off while you kids escape until backup arrives! Now get-”

Ah. So that was their plan. Well, thankfully she knew what to say to that.

Shrugging Sirius’s hands off her, she slapped him across the face.

“You self-sacrificing idiot!” Turning back to Flory she asked, “can you take everyone to one of the other Potter properties?”

“Yes, Mistress Potter! Shall we be going now?”

With a glance back out the window she could see them starting to attack the Manor’s wards. Slowly but surely cracks were appearing as a barrage of curses impacted with it. It was a surprisingly pretty sight. Very theatrical, sounding like a stream of firecrackers breaking glass.

Too bad it was a murder attempt.

“Find everyone else in the house and take them to whichever Potter property you think is safest. Might want to explain that to them too before you grab them.” Nodding to her, Flory teleported away, followed immediately by shouts from somewhere else in the house.

Ignoring a still sputtering Sirius and pushing down her emotions, she sprinted back to her bedroom. A flick of her fingers sent everything in the room into her open Trunk. Grabbing it, she ran into Hermione’s room and repeated the process. Snapping Hermione's trunk shut, she shrunk both and sprinted back down the halls towards the library.

It took less than a second for her to unshrink both trunks and wandlessly send every book in the library flying into them. As hundreds of books flew through the air, a quick glance out the window showed she didn’t have much time left.

As the last of the books landed in the trunks Flory finally reappeared, looking more panicked than ever.

“Everyone else be safe, Mistress Potter!”

“Good. Is there anything of yours you want to take with you from here?” At the elf’s confused expression she continued, “I’m not letting them capture this place. It’ll burn tonight, hopefully with them all in it.”

With a nod, Flory disappearing before quickly returning with a bundle of papers in hand.

Grabbing Flory’s hand she walked them over to the window, silently watching as the wards fell with an ear splitting, shattering noise. Immediately the small horde charged, Adult Tom in lead.

Which, frankly, was surprising. Seemed like Dumbledore was right about him becoming more reckless.

Just as they reached the Manor’s front doors Holly broke the windows and whispered "fiendfyre” down towards the front yard and crowd below.

The flames lit up the whole Manor’s front as they rapidly spread, trapping them between the Manor and approaching blaze. The animalistic forms within the fire roared, but not loud enough to drown out the sudden panicked shouts that they couldn’t apparate away.

Wouldn’t be able to until Adult Tom took down his own barrier.

It was the work of seconds to turn her wand from aiming outside to Manor into the now-empty library, effectively trapping everyone else between the two cursed fires.

“Time to go Flory” and with a twisting feeling, they were suddenly standing near the other evacuated partygoers. Immediately she got tackle-hugged by everyone and their mother but Holly wasn’t thinking about that.

Wasn’t thinking about anything other than the fact she’d just lost the first real home she’d ever had. Sure, it had been too big and grandiose but it was home.

Now it was gone because of f*cking Adult Tom.

Half the Order had been there too and they were useless.

Worse than useless. The only reason they were all alive is because she’d rescued them.

Holly had hoped she wouldn’t need to take care of everything herself but clearly she’d been wrong.

Waiting on everyone else wasn’t working.

It was time to act.

Chapter 24: Summer 1995 (III)

Chapter Text

Taking action, unfortunately, wasn’t as simple as Holly would’ve liked. She needed a solid plan first.Thankfully, she had Hermione to help her with that.

After the Order members were finally done checking her over for injuries and yelling at her for “not taking her safety seriously” or something like that, she and Hermione were led by Sirius to a spare bedroom for the night.

The second the door closed both of them started casting privacy charms without needing a single word between them. Once that was done they sat on the floor, ready to start plotting.

“So… that happened.” At Hermione’s glare she continued, “hey, I want to crush our enemies, see them driven before us, and hear the lamentations of their women too. But we have to make our anger constructive, not let it blind us.”

“...Fine. I suppose that’s a practical mindset. Where do we start?”

“The obvious way to end this bullsh*t would be to kill Adult Tom. He’s the king on the chessboard: the Death Eaters immediately fell apart when they thought he died before, it stands to reason they’d do it again. Unfortunately, he still has the Snake and my scar as horcruxes. The Goblins are working overtime on trying to safely remove them, but according to them that’ll take at least a few months.”

“Could we still kill his body?” Hermione asked, looking contemplative. “As a bodiless wraith, Voldemort would be much less of a threat. It would demoralize his supporters or maybe even disband them entirely.”

“True. Problem is, he seemingly came back from the dead once already. If he does it again people will think he’s really immortal. Nobody would believe he’s ever truly dead; his followers would never disband.” Groaning, Holly laid down on the floor and flopped an arm over her eyes.

“Dammit Holly, why do you have to be right? What other options do we have?”

“We can’t kill him. I doubt we could imprison him, even if we did somehow manage to knock him out and kidnap him. A majority of his supporters are old money families with heavily warded mansions that we can’t assault; that’d be tough even if we had the full force of the Order behind us. Killing off his Inner Circle will only put the rest on high alert. Killing off his grunt enforcers will mildly inconvenience him at best since he’s got plenty of recruits coming in from overseas.

That… basically eliminates most offensive options.”

“...f*ck.” Holly still had her face covered, but she could hear Hermione shuffling through her things.

“Yep. I mean maybe we could sneak attack them inside their manors by tunneling in.” Holly bit her lip, thinking for a moment. “Or maybe we could imperious a couple of his recruits and have them suicide attack, but that sorta thing would only work once. And since we can’t kill or capture Adult Tom–”

“It wouldn’t be worth the risk to kill anyone else and only put the rest on alert,” Hermione finished. “Is there anything else?”

“Well, I do have a mental link to Adult Tom thanks to the horcrux. Theoretically, I could attack his mind.” Even with her eyes covered Holly could feel Hermione glaring at her. “I know, I know, but it’s an option. He doesn't seem to know about it yet and I really don’t want him to – he’ll attack the second he does – and I’ll have a constant migraine until he dies.”

“Good. If he possesses you–”

“You have my full permission to fight back with lethal force in that case. I mean, he’ll probably beat you regardless, but don’t hold back just because it’s my body you’re fighting.”

“...”

Lifting her arm off her face, Holly looked over to see Hermione seemingly attempting to kill her by glaring alone.

“What?” Really, she thought it was perfectly reasonable to prepare for the possibility. That reminded her, she really needed to update her will with the Goblins…

“You can’t just casually say things like that!” Hermione yelled. “You’re my friend, I don’t want to kill you!”

“The sentiment is appreciated, but do remember that my mind has already been obliterated in this hypothetical.”

Actually, the topic reminded her of something she’d been meaning to say: “By the way, can you make sure I’m cremated if I die? If Adult Tom wins, he'd probably do something creepy like put my corpse in a glass coffin and make a trophy out of it. Or maybe eat it. Either way, I’d rather be cremated.”

It was then that Hermione's death glare got intense enough to wandlessly set Holly’s shirt on fire.

“sh*t! Wait ‘til I’m dead first!” She shouted, flinging off her flaming shirt, vanishing it before it hit the ground. After quickly putting on a new shirt from her Trunk she turned back to a furious looking Hermione.

“What? If you wanted to see me shirtless you could’ve just asked. I promise not to be weird about it even if you’re straight. I mean, if you’re questioning I could let you look?”

That was just being a good friend, right? Or maybe Hermione was feeling insecure? Should she try to be supportive then?

“I promise I haven't shapeshifted my boobs besides making my bras fit better. Do you–”

“No! Holly, just… no.” Hermione visibly took a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “Now, the war effort. What are our options?”

That… was a tough question.

One that needed several minutes to properly think of an answer for.

“The Goblins are confident they’ll be able to remove my scar horcrux, but they need at least a few months' time. Once I get it removed the Goblins will handle the Snake; we should be able to assassinate Adult Tom relatively easily and that’ll end it. The problem is buying enough time for that to happen.

At this rate, if nothing changes… by then the Ministry will have fallen, a pureblood-supremacist government put in place, and any ‘undesirables’ either killed off or in hiding. Dumbledore would probably be dead already in this hypothetical too, so the Order would be leaderless and Hogwarts wouldn’t be safe either. People in our safehouses might still be safe but they’re dead the second that changes. The Goblins would be fine though; they’d solve the horcrux problem, but by the time we assassinate Adult Tom it’d be a pyrrhic victory at best.”

Hermione looked conflicted, not wanting to take her analysis as fact. “But… what about the other magical governments? Or the International Conference of Wizards? Wouldn’t they step in if it got that bad?”

“Hermione, these people haven't developed socially since medieval times. They have no real concept of international cooperation or global economies other than the quidditch world cup. The International Conference of Wizards is filled with rich, old f*cks: they don’t care about anything other then upholding the statute of secrecy. At best they’d send a couple representatives to tell Adult Tom’s puppet government to hide the fighting better if they violate the statute of secrecy too blatantly.”

That had Hermione’s shoulders sagging as the reality of the situation sunk in. Poor girl had far too much faith in wizards. At least that'd get fixed, however this ended.

“Right, so how do we prevent that?” Hermione asked, summoning paper and a pen.

“Keeping Dumbledore alive is necessary, not because he’s the most powerful, but for morale. He’s a rallying point. So long as he’s alive, the Order won’t disband and Hogwarts will be run by him.” Holly said, listing off ideas as Hermione took notes. “Second most important person to keep alive is Minister Bones; if she dies, installing a puppet would get that much easier.”

“What about the systematic problems?” Hermione asked, still furiously writing. “How can we make the Order and the Ministry more effective?”

That… was a good question. How could they?

“Neither the Ministry or the Order can predict attacks, they’re too spontaneous. Travel time isn’t an issue with apparation. That means the delay is in either the time it takes to report an attack or organizing the response force. Probably both.”

“So it's a communications issue then?” Hermione asked, not looking up.

“Makes sense. All forms of magical communication have either major drawbacks or time delays. They don’t have the equivalent of a cell phone. That reminds me: let's make a magic-proof one once we’re done with Adult Tom’s bullsh*t.”

That was a good start for what she’d do once this bullsh*t was over: drag wizards into the 20th century, whether they like it or not.

“You’re off topic again Holly. How can we make attacks be reported faster?”

“Their attacks are focused on muggleborns and half-bloods, in other words, the people who typically have the worst home defenses. Improving everyone’s wards would be impossible but… what about if we could create something like a home security system? Or a panic button? Something to instantly send an alert out if they’re under attack?”

Pausing her writing, Hermione looked over, shock written on her face. “That… that’s brilliant! But would either the Order or Ministry respond soon enough?”

“I mean, it’d be hard to do worse than now,” Holly dryly stated, rolling her eyes. “Besides, the Ministry must have at least some kind of 24/7 emergency response team. If they don’t then the Minister would probably be willing to create a rapid response team or whatever they’d call it. Might be easier politically to create a new department then reshuffle existing ones.”

“You’re right.” Hermione mumbled, furiously writing again. “If we could have that alert synced with the Ministry, or with Order… maybe with a Protean Charm? It’d have to include more information, like where the attack is and nearby apparation points. Or how many attackers there are. But what else should we…”

Listening to Hermione mumble to herself, it seemed like she had that train of thought under control. Which, if it worked, would dramatically help reduce casualties.

They’d still be stuck fighting a losing war of attrition, but at least they’d last longer.

With that pleasant thought in mind, Holly tucked herself into bed, falling asleep to the white noise of Hermione’s mumbling and pen scratching.

Unsurprisingly, Dumbledore dropped by the safehouse the next morning to check in on them after the attack, making it easy to propose their idea to him.

The look on his face after hearing their idea for panic buttons was priceless. Poor guy was too stunned to even facepalm. He may have played it off afterwards with a joke about how his old age was getting to him, but the sheer relief and self-recrimination in his eyes was obvious to her.

Good to know his own ego hadn’t gotten to him.

With shocking speed for a man his age, he sat down across from them, casually flicking a finger to levitate their breakfast dishes away to make room, and immediately beginning to sketch prototype ruin sequences. Both she and Hermione chimed in with ideas, occasionally suggesting small optimizations, breakfast ignored as they worked.

They attracted a couple Order members as an audience, which was awkward to say the least. Damn people better not get any ideas about her. Holly wanted to fade into irrelevance so she could disappear and not be bothered by them for the rest of her life after Hogwarts.

Which, Holly realized, meant she’d have to keep her involvement in ending the war and killing Adult Tom secret.

Which, of course, would only make the whole thing that much harder.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

Despite her internal crisis, they had a working prototype panic button made within the hour. It was nothing fancy: just a runic circle drawn on a piece of paper you could tap with your wand that’d send an alert to another runic circle on a separate, corresponding piece of paper that also displayed the others’ location and any written message attached.

Privately, Holly didn’t expect that feature to get used optimally. Knowing wizards they’d probably use it to request all available responders because they deemed themselves important.

Regardless, Dumbledore seemed happy with the prototype and practically ran out the door to show it to the Minister. Hermione, having not noticed the growing crowd, blushed scarlet when they swooped in the second Dumbledore left.

Naturally, Holly left Hermione behind and took the chance to disappear back into the blissful silence of their room.

Totally worth leaving her cold breakfast behind.

---

Dumbledore and Minister Bones must have immediately gotten started because her scar suddenly exploded in pain a few hours later. Seemed like Adult Tom’s spies must’ve reported back to him because he was Not Happy.

Which she got the emotional bleed over from in the form of pain.

Holly hadn’t ever been stabbed in the head, but damn, did she have a good idea of what it’d feel like now.

As she sank deeper into meditation she tried her best to reinforce her occlumency barriers as subtly as possible but it was no use, she couldn’t block out the pain.

Worse still, Adult Tom must’ve felt something because that’s when she could feel his attention switch to their mental connection, like suddenly being under a spotlight. His surprise and curiosity was tangible as he probed at their connection.

Then there was nothing.

No emotional spillover.

No pain.

It felt as if their bond was abruptly severed.

But Holly knew what was coming and prepared herself.

Sure enough, an instant later Adult Tom slammed into her mental defenses with everything he had.

If she thought it was painful before, now it felt like her brain had caught fire while also exploding. Holly hadn’t ever tried crucio’ing herself but she imagined this is what it felt like.

Shocked out of her meditation, she stumbled over to her Trunk and summoned a Pain-Relief Potion from her supplies. Slamming it back, Holly felt the pain just barely recede.

This… wasn’t good. Not good at all.

She should probably tell someone Adult Tom discovered their connection. There was no way that conversation was going to go well.

Fun.

---

‘I hate always being right,’ Holly thought to herself as a hysterical Sirius and (marginally calmer) Hermione frantically checked her over. ‘Can they get any more overprotective?’

Holly shook them off, putting up her hands, “guys, I’m fine. Adult Tom hasn’t gotten past my outer mental barriers. Even if he did, he’d have to go through the literal, unsolvable maze that is my mindscape. My mind is safe; all he can do is give me a headache.”

For some reason that didn’t seem to reassure them. Not at all.

Which, rude. Holly had put literal years into building her mental defenses. She wasn’t about to get possessed by Adult Tom, especially not without a long, bitter fight.

Hermione and Sirius turned towards each other, doing the whole ‘silent conversation with only eye-contact’ thing before simultaneously turning back towards her.

It was more than a little creepy.

“Holly,” Sirius started, tone sounding vaguely parental for once, “Voldemort is a master legitemens. The only reason we haven't already declared this a worst-case scenario is because we know how skilled in occlumency you are. But even you can’t say this is fine.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Sirius shouted, not a trace of humor on his face. “Dumbledore and Snape will be here soon to see if they can help you improve your occlumency. Until then, you need to be completely focused on defending your mind.”

With that Sirius walked out of the room, leaving behind a stern but vaguely apologetic Hermione. When Holly turned her glare to her the girl simply shrugged.

“You have to admit Holly, from an outside perspective it is rather alarming to hear that Voldemort can directly attack your mind from any distance. Besides, it’s not like Dumbledore or Professor Snape need to teach you the basics of occlumency, only help you improve as much as possible.”

That wasn’t wrong but… it didn’t help what she was feeling.

That she was now expected to do nothing except sit and meditate, all day, every day.

That she was expected to only defend her mind, never trying to attack back.

That everyone would tiptoe around her, treating her like both a potential spy and damaged goods.

That everyone would be staring at her, waiting for her to be possessed.

That, unless something changed, her extreme migraine would last until someone managed to kill Adult Tom.

It was an unsustainable situation. She would be fine in a week, or a month, or maybe even 6 months, but not forever. Eventually, the combined effects of her migraine, sleep loss, and whatever else may occur would leave her vulnerable to assassination attempts.

If she couldn’t protect herself then she’d be as good as dead.

That wasn’t even mentioning how awful that time would be for her.

So no, she wasn’t planning on listening to Sirius. Oh, she’d take every piece of help Dumbledore and Snape could give her and put it to use, but she was going to attack Adult Tom back sooner or later.

She was trapped in mental siege warfare, her mind like a castle under attack from an endless army on all sides. Eventually any castle would crumble as the defenders either starve when their supplies run out or fall before the invaders.

But voicing that wouldn’t change anyone’s mind. Well, except possibly Hermione if she had enough time to explain, but she couldn’t now.

So Holly played nice when Dumbledore and Snape arrived.

She let them examine her mental defenses, listening to every scrap of advice they offered. She nodded along as they made her promise to focus entirely on her mental defense, never attacking Adult Tom.

It was a lie of course, something that she suspected everyone in the room knew.

Still, she played her role just as they played theirs. She was the desperate and dutiful student under the skilled and benevolent professor. Or, at least, that was Dumbledore’s role.

Snape helped, but only spoke in insults and condescending remarks. No matter how insultingly phrased, the bastard’s help was still useful.

Soon enough they left, leaving Holly and Hermione alone once more.

After applying privacy charms once more Holly stood up, a grim smile on her face. “Well, since I’m going to have a migraine for the foreseeable future, I should probably get working on something to help that. I know potions to cure headaches and migraines exist, but I wonder if I can make them better? I mean, I’m going to need some strong sh*t to get me through this. Or maybe drugs. I guess that’s what I'm doing already, but wait: do wizards have drugs? Like, recreational drugs? Because if they don’t they don’t I’m going to be extremely disappointed. Leaving it to f*cking wizards to have magic and never make any magical drugs. Seriously,-”

Hermione, obviously agreeing with her, simply listened as Holly continued ranting and started brewing.

Brewing new and improved pain relief and migraine cures went well. Whenever she took them it reduced her pain from “my brain is on fire and exploding, please kill me” to a somewhat more reasonable, “it feels like there’s a knife in my head” level. Not great, but not terrible.

Fortunately, that only took her a few days.

Even better, while brewing she had an idea for how to help keep both Dumbledore and Minister Bones alive: eternal elixirs! Not all 3 of hers of course, super strength being wasted on wizards, but the other 2 would hopefully be enough to improve their odds.

Dumbledore needed to be able to survive fights against Adult Tom. If Holly gave him both a Stamina and Regenerative Elixirs he’d feel decades younger. Considering how ancient the man was, that wasn’t saying much, but it was better than nothing.

Minister Bones needed to survive so she could lead the Ministry and not be replaced with a puppet. A Regenerative Elixir would help her survive any assassination attempts or otherwise fatal wounds, though Holly supposed a Stamina Elixir wouldn’t hurt either.

It’d cost her precious phoenix tears and rare supplies, but, well, that was better than the alternative.

Besides, winning the war and having 2 extremely influential figures in her debt would make it worth it.

With that in mind Holly got brewing, mentally blocking out her migraine and putting as much raw intent into her elixirs as possible.

Intent to heal. Intent to protect. Intent keep them alive.

It wouldn’t make up for the fact she was missing a crucial ingredient, the already-used piece of Faerie King wing she’d been gifted, but it’d help make up the difference.

Hopefully the few drops of blood she put in would do that.

The drops of blood which, when she put them in, produced poofs of multicolor smoke and made both elixirs faintly glow.

Choosing to take that as a good sign, Holly bottled the elixirs and gave them to Hermione to somehow deliver. Mentally exhausted, she took another set of her improved pain relief and migraine cure potions before laying down for a much-needed nap.

She hadn’t exactly been expecting to be woken up soon after by Dumbledore himself to both question and thank her. Too tired to care, she mumbled something that was - hopefully - coherent before rolling over to go back to sleep.

Chapter 25: Summer 1995 (IV)

Chapter Text

The last month before the term started was… mind numbing, in more ways than one.

At first Adult Tom attacked her mind 24/7, obviously believing she’d break quickly under his attack. Which meant Holly, even with strengthened anti-migraine and pain-relief potions, was in a debilitating amount of pain.

Constant “getting stabbed in the forehead with a flaming knife” levels of pain.

Which meant she couldn’t sleep any more than short, restless naps.

Fun times.

For 10 days and nights Holly endured. Because that was all she could do: endure. Any plans she’d had to overpower him in a mental struggle died quickly after she realized the bastard was still better at attacking minds than her. Sure, he couldn’t outright steal memories, but was far stronger in terms of brute force.

Which, in hindsight, wasn’t surprising. She had very little experience attacking protected minds, having mostly stolens memories from normal people.

She’d need to wait until his mind was vulnerable to strike back.

At least Hermione’s increasingly incredulous expressions and theorizing was amusing. According to her, the fact Holly was semi-coherent, even with her restless naps, by the 10th day was shocking.

As for Adult Tom? He was many things but unfortunately weak-willed wasn’t one of them.

The bastard managed to stay awake and attack her mind nonstop for 10 days. She’d thought he’d stop after a day or two but noooo. The stubborn bastard never stopped.

Not even to sleep.

For 10 days and nights he raged, endlessly attacking her mind; something only possible because her stamina elixer had transferred over to him.

There was one upside though: during those 10 days the war slowed down dramatically, buying them some much needed time to regroup. According to Hermione, the Order said he hadn’t led a single attack since.

It proved what Holly had suspected early on: to seriously attack her mind he needed to focus on it. Sounded stupid until she realized the massive implications for how their mental warfare would impact everyone else.

Adult Tom was the highly visible leader of his cult. His days were busy leading attacks, terrorizing his minions, and whatever else cult leaders did. He had a busy schedule, far busier than Holly herself. Not to mention a public image of indomitable strength to project at all times.

Holly, in comparison, was actively being told to do nothing except defend her mind.

She even did as told: by keeping Adult Tom’s focus on her she was saving a ton of lives, buying vital time for the Order and Ministry to regroup. Sure, they probably weren’t making the most of it, but at least it was good for morale. The fact it cost the majority of her mental faculties was worth it.

The Order kept evacuating and sheltering muggleborns, the Ministry was implementing the panic buttons, and all Holly had to do was devote her full mental focus to guarding her mind.

All for the (not) small price of Holly herself being in constant extreme pain and misery.

Fun. Just wonderful.

Holly had been fully expecting him to stop after a day or two once it became obvious how much diverting his focus to her was costing him momentum in the fighting.

But no, Adult Tom, the petty bitch, apparently believed focusing his efforts on attacking her mind was more important.

Which he showed by mentally attacking her nonstop.

That or he kept attacking her to try to salvage his pride. Or maybe out of spite. It was pointless to theorize the petty justifications for Adult Tom’s actions, but at least it made her smile.

Either way, when Adult Tom finally stopped his attack on the 10th day (but not without one last, obviously intentional, ‘f*ck You’ spike of pain) Holly didn’t lower her defenses. She kept alert, waiting, not only in case Adult Tom was trying to trick her into a false sense of security, but to take advantage of the opportunity.

Adult Tom was vulnerable: he’d been awake and straining himself for 10 days nonstop, that had to be exhausting.

So Holly meditated and waited. Waited long enough to be certain he’d fallen asleep before cautiously, subtly reaching down their mental bond for herself for the first time.

Holly considered attacking. He was asleep, recovering from exhaustion and vulnerable. More vulnerable than he’d be for a long time.

But now wasn’t the time to attack.

No, she had to treat this like she would a risky robbery. After all, she never robbed someone without examining the person’s defenses first.

So Holly sunk into her mind, reaching her consciousness out towards their mental link, slowly and carefully, and looked.

Or, well, tried to do the mental equivalent of looking. A bit tough considering she was currently a formless mental presence, without sight or any of her senses. It was like she was a blob of awareness floating in the void.

A true out-of-body experience.

Surprisingly comfortable despite the whole sensory deprivation thing.

Despite not being able to truly see anything, she followed the faint sense of the mental connection she knew would lead her to Adult Tom’s mind. Like blindly walking in a shallow river with the current, Holly followed it until she could faintly ‘feel’ when she bumped into what must be the outermost part of Adult Tom’s occlumency barriers.

Smiling to herself without a mouth, Holly imagined herself a metaphysical body to use as an avatar and opened her newly created metaphysical eyes to ‘see.’

Holly found herself standing on a small rock outcropping overlooking a choppy sea, metaphysical wind and rain making her not-hair stick to her not-face as the whitetopped waves crashed. In the distance, through the heavy rain, she could vaguely see a small island, with what might be a massive wall encircling it.

“So his mindscape is a walled-off island in the middle of a rough sea, huh? How basic. The only thing that could make it more cliche is if there’s a castle on that island.” Still, Holly could appreciate the aesthetic.

“The bad weather and sea serve his outer defenses, the island being his mindscape’s core area. That’s… actually kinda smart if it functions like an early warning system too. A soft outer barrier surrounding the wall guarding his true mindscape. Kinda similar to my own maze mindscape actually, just in reverse.”

Concentrating for a second, Holly imagined a pair of binoculars in her not-hands and looked at the island through them.

Sure enough, Adult Tom, the cliche bastard, had a suspiciously Hogwarts-looking castle sitting atop his island. Around the entire island massive stone walls rose straight out of the rock, unaffected by the waves and seaspray battering them.

“Ok, cliche aside, that’s actually a damn good mental defense system.”

The occlumency barriers Diary Tom had were pathetic in comparison. He hadn’t even had a real mindscape then, only a (relatively) flimsy wall meant to keep people, Dumbledore in particular, out of his mind. Not that it would’ve been able to keep Dumbledore out.

His current mental defenses though? They were damn good.

Not exactly surprising considering Adult Tom had over half a century to improve them. Still, there had to be some sort of weakness.

According to the Goblins, all of his horcruxes were hidden so they’d still be accessible to him. It stood to reason that his mindscape would function the same way.

“That means… there’s probably a secret boat somewhere around here to cross the sea. Maybe some sort of passcode to improve the weather too. Damn.” That wouldn’t be easy to get past.

Sure, she could use her imagination and legetimency skill to conjure some things into existence, but fighting against actual mental traps? She’d be screwed. Besides, she was still at the very outer edge of his mindscape, relatively close to her own mind. The deeper into his mindscape she got, the less she’d be able to affect her surroundings.

Or so she assumed.

This whole examining the metaphysical, visual representation of his mindscape’s defenses thing was pretty complicated.

Especially considering she had a fragment of his soul attached to hers, giving them both an express highway to each other's minds.

There were no books covering this. Not even any extremely illegal ones, she’d looked.

Best she could do is try to slowly figure it out for herself. If she could figure out how to sneak past each trap without alerting him then maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to attack his mind directly before he even noticed she was there.

She’d need to use the Diadem of Ravenclaw for that. The extra brain power was too overwhelming for common use but it should help her reason her way through and put some extra oomph behind any of her mental attacks.

Scouting done and smiling to herself, Holly disperced her avatar and returned to her physical body. She had no idea what time it was but she didn’t care. It was time for her to catch up on sleep.

---

Holly woke up slowly, blinking the sleep out of her eyes, feeling better rested then she had in sometime. She had no idea what time, or even what day it was, but that didn’t matter.

Holly had a plan.

A simple, war-ending plan.

First step: stall until she is truly safe before doing anything else.

The Order safehouse she was staying at was safe, but might not stay that way. It was under the fidelius charm, but that was (probably) tied to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore who had a massive target on his back.

If he died then any safehouses with him as secret-keeper couldn’t be guaranteed as safe.

It wasn’t just her safety either: there were still plenty of vulnerable people that didn’t have a panic button for calling an emergency response team yet. If she pissed off Adult Tom they’d be the first one he lashes out at.

It wasn’t ideal, but waiting was necessary.

At least, until she and all the other ‘undesirable’ Hogwarts students had arrived at Hogwarts. There would be plenty of Adult Tom’s sympathizers there, but at least they’d be minors fighting other minors. With the Hogwarts students safe it’d clear out room in the Order’s safehouses for other people.

Hopefully they’d be able to shelter enough of the population to prevent a full genocide.

Once she and others were at Hogwarts it’d be time for Phase 2. All she had to do was stall until then.

---

Adult Tom, the annoyingly smart bastard, was seemingly learning from his mistakes.

When she felt him wake up some hours after her he didn’t immediately attack like before. Her best guess was that he was rethinking his tactics, something that was proven true hours later when she randomly felt an intense spike of pain in her head.

It didn’t breach her mind, but it certainly threw her off enough to stumble and clutch her forehead. It wasn’t until that kept unpredictably happening over the next few days that Holly realized what changed.

He was switching to a smarter tactic: random, unpredictable attacks.

If before he was attempting to siege her mind, now he’d switched to hit and run tactics. Or maybe guerilla warfare. Holly wasn’t sure how well terms for physical war translated to metaphysical mental fighting but it was the best analogy she had.

The constant pain was crippling but at least she could somewhat adapt to its constant presence. Now? It’d randomly spike out of nowhere, making her stop to clutch her head, regardless of her surroundings. Much harder to guard her mind against.

Thankfully he hadn’t thought of the best strategy yet: f*cking with her sleep schedule.

If he attacked her mind while she was sleeping, the spike of pain would wake her up. If he did that if he did that several times a night, for several weeks… the sleep loss would eventually add up. Extreme fatigue, irrationality, mood swings… all of the side effects would make him eventually breaching her mind far more likely.

Holly was dreading the day he thought of that strategy. Hopefully he never would, but Holly wasn’t naive enough to think he wouldn’t.

Other than enduring the random, debilitating mental attacks Holly didn’t actually have anything to do.

She and Hermione couldn’t think of any more revolutionary ideas to suggest. Not that they had the resources to spare for anything new. Both the Order and Ministry were too busy rehoming muggleborns and implementing the panic buttons, respectively.

Holly tried brewing medical potions for the war effort, but after a mental attack distracted her enough to drop in the wrong ingredient and blow up a potion in her face, Sirius and Hermione forced her to stop. The most annoying part was that they were right to make her.

Both Srius and Fleur were busy doing Order things, Luna was stuck at home, and Hermione was busy either reading books terrifyingly fast or fretting over her.

Which meant all Holly could do was sit around and read.

Hermione suggested she could get to know more people, but something in her silent glare stopped that idea.

After a few days of crushing boredom and some absentminded shapeshifting later Holly figured out how to spend the rest of her summer.

Defending her mind was mentally exhausting, but physically? She was brimming with energy.

Transfiguring a punching bag and a set of weights took seconds. After that, Holly used them all day, every day, stopping only to defend her mind from the random, spontaneous mental attacks and meet her biological needs.

Holly punched and kicked her punching bag until her knuckles split, lifted weights (or maybe ‘lifted magic’ since conversation of mass didn’t seem to apply?), and even did push ups with Hermione sitting and reading on her back.

Her workouts worked as intended: by physically exhausting herself her sleep quality improved.

It even had a side benefit: any wizard who came to talk to her never stayed for some reason.

Holly had been using her punching bag when the youngest Weasley boy came by. Holly, having realized that she should probably at least acknowledge her allies, gave him a small wave before throwing more punches. For some reason he paled rapidly and rushed (by wizard standards) away.

Telling Hermione about the incident wasn’t clarifying either, her friend simply laughed and refused to explain.

Random mental attacks and weirdness aside, it wasn’t the worst way to spend the remainder of her summer.

---

Boarding the train at Kings Cross was completely different from past years.

Gone were the bustling crowds of clinging kids and parents with bittersweet tears. The platform couldn’t have been more different if it tried.

Ministry aurors lined the walls as standing guards. Parents apparated in with their children, rushed them onto the train, and apparated away just as quickly. A handful of other parents stuck around after their kid boarded, wand out, clearly only there to guard their child if someone attacked.

Holly, for her part, tried to ignore how closely Hermione, Sirius, and many other Order member guards were practically attached to her. Any hopes she had of getting a cabin alone with Hermione was crushed as Sirius let himself in and started reinforcing the cabin’s closed doors.

“Uh, Sirius? How come you’re on the train with us?” Holly asked. Seriously. Was he stuck in a flashback to being a student or something? She never did exactly ask how well he was doing after his therapy…

“What? Holly, didn’t anybody tell you?” Sirius asked, looking back and forth between her and Hermione.

Hermione, who was suddenly looking guilty and facepalmed. Somebody had clearly left her uninformed by accident.

“I’m going to be your Defense professor this year!” Sirius explained, looking genuinely excited. “Dumbledore asked if anyone in the Order wanted the position and I agreed. Never thought I’d be a professor but I couldn’t pass up the chance to teach you! Besides, Dumbledore needs more eyes and guards at Hogwarts to keep it safe.”

That was… sweet. Extremely clingy and mildly uncomfortable, but his intention to keep her safe was sweet.

Only… “Uh, Sirius, are you qualified? Do you have a degree or something on the subject?” What were the requirements for getting the position? Seriously, until recently Sirius was a wildly known (if now exonerated) mass-murderer. That reputation wouldn’t go away overnight.

Hopefully it was more than being a living, adult sycophant of Dumbledore’s-

“Dumbledore wanted an Order member and I volunteered,” Sirius answered, shrugging. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll do my best to help teach everyone to defend themself; all while being the cool professor.”

Annnnnd there it was. Dumbledore’s only job requirement was being an adult sycophant.

Great. Just wonderful.

‘Sirius, you poor, poor fool.’ Making eye-contact with Hermione it was clear they were both thinking the same thing.

At least Sirius was a skilled duelist with practical experience. If he took the job seriously he could teach them tons of firsthand knowledge. That said, she seriously doubted he’d enjoy teaching the other, less exciting textbook topics or that he’d treat all his students equally. Sure, some would be Adult Tom’s supporters and teaching them would be counterproductive, but the rest…

There was no point in thinking of what could have been.

“I’m thinking about offering a dueling club too,” Sirius said, jerking her out of her thoughts, “some kids need to learn how to protect themself.”

Now there was a seemingly benign statement with terrifying implications. Benign because of course those being targeted should be able to defend themselves. But the implications…

A “dueling club” for minors.

Teaching students who’d likely be more than willing to fight.

Run by a member of the Order.

Which sounded like it’d have closed membership.

At Dumbledore’s school, with his explicit permission.

Dumbledore, who had a history of recruiting students right out of school into the Order.

Looking at Hermione’s wide eyes showed she understood the terrifying implications too.

‘A child soldier training club. A literal, child soldier training club. One obviously meant for recruiting future Order members. With Dumbledore’s implicit permission. f*cking Wizards!’

Stopping herself before she lost her sh*t, she wondered how nobody (besides Hermione) realized how f*cked up that was?

Sirius himself wouldn’t. He was recruited right out of school himself, right alongside her parents and their friends. If anything, he’d encourage them all to join the Order and fight.

Seemed like Dumbledore was going back to his old habits.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

With those painful realizations in her head, both Holly and Hermione were too distracted to keep a conversation going with Sirius; instead zoning out for the rest of the train ride.

---

For the second time ever, Holly actually went to the start-of-term feast instead of skipping it to eat with the elves. Mostly because she wanted to observe the mood of the school, but admittedly it was more interesting than she expected.

Not the Sorting Hat’s song though, that was as awful as she barely remembered hearing and zoning out during her own sorting.

No, instead she took the chance to read the room.

The most obvious difference was in the number of students, or lack thereof. Every table had empty sections, some larger than others. Based on the remaining faces it was clear some of them were dead, the others having either fled the country or gone into hiding.

Even the incoming class looked smaller and not because they were tiny.

Other than that… the fear was obvious. Both students and professors were having whispered conversations, nervously glancing around.

Even the usually rowdy Gryffindor table, now with large empty spaces, was somber and subdued.

The Hufflepuff table had the most empty space, maybe a quarter of their student population missing. Unsurprisingly, many of them were already crying.

At the Slytherin table most of the pureblood supremacist kids were walking around with unearned swagger, clearly glad for the war killing off those “lesser” than them. Interestingly, on some of them it was a painfully obvious facade hiding their fear, she guessed those were the kids too terrified to speak out or go against their parents.

The rest of their table was painfully stoic, staying neutral for their own reasons.

Although, considering the good chance their own roommates might kill them in their sleep if they spoke out….

Her own table though… there were empty spots but also some suspiciously haughty-looking people. The rest were keeping their heads down, hardly talking at all. Most of them didn’t look to be staying neutral just to try and survive, they just didn’t care.

Apathetic bastards.

Worst of all: more people were staring at her and whispering than ever.

When the sorting was finally finished Dumbledore got up to speak and Holly paid attention for once.

Not that it was worth it. His whole speech boiled down to: “We all know things are bad out there right now, but you’re safe(-ish) here. Here’s Sirius Black, formerly believed to be an infamous mass-murderer and currently a synophant of mine, your new Defense professor. Also, please don’t kill each other.”

There was more nuance to it then that but Holly really didn’t think it mattered.

What was interesting was seeing they were trying to take security seriously for once. Aurors would be patrolling the school and grounds at all times and Hogsmeade trips were banned.

That… was more than Holly was expecting. Looked like the Minister was taking things seriously. With that in mind Holly ate quickly and left.

---

Some hours and a mental attack later Holly was reading in the Room when Hermione suddenly came bursting in,

“Holly! Did you hear about-”

“The Order’s child soldier training camp?” Holly interrupted. “Yeah, it’s pretty f*cked up. Guess Dumbledore wants fresh meat for the meat grinder and Sirius is too fanatical to notice.”

“Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant.” That caught Holly’s attention, making her look up. “Apparently just before the train left Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley. Some shops were burned but… they took Ollivander.”

“f*ck.”

That was all there was to say really.

It was a great strategic move by Adult Tom.

Hadn’t she just been thinking about that last year? Wizards completely depended on their wand.

Granted, it was only because they believed needed wands, effectively turning their belief into a reality. But that wasn’t relevant right now.

If Ollivander, the only well-known wandmaker in “Magical Britain” was in Adult Tom’s hands… that meant no wands for anybody besides pureblood supremacists next year.

If muggleborns and half bloods didn’t have wands, not only would they be defenseless, but would they even be allowed to come to Hogwarts? Would they even be protected?

But more than that, it meant no replacement wands for the Order or Ministry if theirs is stolen or broken. Not unless they scavenge from the dead.

All while the Death Eaters have unlimited replacements.

Sure, there were wandmakers in other countries but… the wizarding world was very insular. Even if they tried, most wizards wouldn’t be able to apparate across the English Channel to France because they’d never been there.

(There was the channel tunnel but Holly seriously doubted the majority of wizards knew it existed, let alone would be willing to take it.)

Which meant they’d need a portkey, either buying an expensive, easily traceable one, or making their own which very few people could do.

And that wasn’t even considering the wand compatibility issue.

All that meant was, in the long-ish term, the Ministry and Order was completely and utterly f*cked.

“f*ck!” Holly repeated. “How did that even happen? Shouldn’t he have been heavily guarded?”

“I think so, Holly. I guess people expected Voldemort to attack Kings Cross or the Ministry today instead.”

“f*cking wizards! This is what happens when an entire population is completely dependent on one person. How have wizards not pushed themselves into extinction already?”

“They might be right now” Hermione replied, sounding serious as ever.

Looking over at her Holly can’t see even a trace of humor. “True. Though, I thought I was supposed to be the cynic between us?”

“Well, you looked like you were panicking so I thought maybe I could fill your role for a change.” The words sounded serious, but Holly could hear traces of humor in them. And the implication that panicking was Hermione’s role, which… wasn’t entirely wrong. But not entirely right either.

“Ah, because that’s clearly the best way to make someone feel better,” Holly noded, playing along. A second later they both huffed out a laugh.

“In all seriousness though,” Holly started, “between Ollivander’s kidnapping and the Order’s child soldier recruitment pipeline… you know what this means, right?”

“Oh?” Hermione asked.

“It means we have to kill Adult Tom in less than a year.”

“And how do you propose ‘we’ do that?”

“Don’t worry, I have a Great Idea.” Holly smiled wider as Hermione looked increasingly panicked, “and we’re already in Phase 2.”

Chapter 26: Year Five

Chapter Text

After talking with Hermione, something weird happened that night. Something that hadn’t happened to Holly in years: her roommates tried to talk to her.

That hadn’t happened since… the beginning of second year maybe?

There had been a few times she vaguely noticed them looking at her kinda weird. Like when she added silencing charms to her bed. And after the Yule Ball. And when she added defensive charms after Adult Tom’s return.

But what could they possibly want? They’d had a good unspoken system going: she never talked to them and they never talked to her. Considering she was only ever in their dorm to sleep, she forgot they existed most of the time.

It was the perfect roommate relationship in her opinion.

There was also the fact she still didn’t know their names… wait, didn’t Hermione say one of their names once? Wasn’t it something like Paddy? Partma? That sounded almost right.

Ignorant of her confusion, one of her roommates kept talking at her. “-we’ve never talked, but I wanted to let you know both my sister and I support you.”

In the background her other roommates she could see were both awkwardly nodding along.

“Oh.” What the hell could she say to that? Was there any good response to that? Best to keep it simple and not get sucked into a conversation.

“Thanks? Goodnight.”

With that Holly finished warding her bed into a functional bomb shelter and laid down for the night.

---

The first day of the term Holly spent the entire morning training and exercising in the Room, skipping History of Magic and enjoying the free time where she’d normally have potions. She hadn’t skipped history of magic in the past but since it was useless she figured nobody would care.

Besides, everybody had better things to worry about then that.

After a shower, a brief mental attack, and lunch spent arguing with Hermione over the uselessness of History of Magic, she had another useless class to go to: Muggle Studies.

Holly… really wasn’t sure why she was even in the class still, she’d already learned firsthand wizards wouldn’t recognize a gun. The class could be genuinely useful for most wizards considering how ignorant they were, but it was worse than useless for her considering how much better the time could be spent.Especially when the curriculum was trash. She didn’t need to waste her time learning about common kitchen appliances.

Could she drop the class? Or jump up several grades and test out of it like she did with potions?

Actually, could she do that for all of her useless classes? Was there a minimum number of classes she needed to stay enrolled?

Something to look into later.

After muggle studies was something far more interesting: Defense with Sirius teaching. Class started with a bang – literally – as Sirius kicked open the classroom door while launching fireworks, a manic smile wide across his face.

“Books and quills away people, you won’t need them today! Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. I’m your professor, Sirius Black, you might have heard about me in the past.” He paused, smile not faltering even as the class started awkwardly side-eyeing each other.

“Now, Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to teach you guys how to defend yourselves. There’s a war going on out there, knowing how to protect yourself is more important than ever. That’s what I’ll be focusing on teaching you this year:”

“How many of you have ever been in a duel?” A few hands went up, Holly’s following a second later.

“Not a lot of you, that’s what I thought. Of you, how many of those were a real, life or death fight?” At that everyone’s hand went down besides Holly’s. Sirius, seemingly only now realizing that his rhetorical question wasn’t rhetorical, looked at her and hesitated for a second.

Which made everyone else in the room, barring Hermione, turn towards her and stare. There was awkward silence until Holly fake coughed, snapping Sirius out of his funk.

“Right, like I expected, none of you except Holly.” His smile vanished, replaced by a grim look. “You can’t ever truly understand what a real fight is like until you’ve been in one. But! Mock duels can help prepare yourself to avoid freezing in shock later and improve your dueling technique.”

“Everybody up!” Sirius shouted, “I need to gauge your skill levels. Make a line on each side of the room, we’re going to have our first mock duels right now!”

With that Holly and Hermione both silently drifted towards the back so they had a good view.

If Sirius ended up drifting close to her and Hermione between playing referee? Well, obviously he just wanted input from the only other person with fighting experience, and wasn’t playing favorites.

After watching the first duel it was immediately obvious: they were awful.Pitifully bad. Some of them couldn’t even cast a basic shield charm! Or a stunner! They even had to shout their incantations!

Holly knew having a different defense professor would negatively affect them, but how were they that bad ?

…Maybe Sirius did have a point about how they needed to be trained to fight.

A quick glance at Sirius and she could see him mentally revising his lesson plans. Even Hermione looked disappointed, deep in thought as she was.

Leaning towards Hermione she could only whisper “what the hell is this?” and getting a shrug in response.

“You have to remember you’ve several advantages and years of practice on them” Hermione whispered back, “but you aren't wrong. Without a consistent Defense curriculum standards have fallen.”

“This is painful to watch,” Holly whispered in horror as she watched someone take a body-bind to the face and fall. “f*ck hiding my skill level. Hermione, we’re going to show them what an actual fight looks like so they realize how badly they suck.”

Hermione, clearly in agreement, didn’t respond.

Finally, after watching too many pitiful duels, it was her and Hermione’s turn.They both walked up to the dueling platform, silently faced each other, and started flinging spells between them without speaking a word. Several students on the sidelines, standing too close because of the previously lackluster duels, had to throw themselves back to avoid the deflected spells.

Holly and Hermione traded spells evenly, always either casting, shielding, countering, or dodging; giving the illusion of an equal fight. Which was a lie of course, Holly could’ve beat Hermione quickly, but that wouldn’t make for a good show.

For the first time ever – outside of potions – Holly dropped her pretenses and showed off (some) of what she could so.She silently batted Hermione’s spells aside with a flick of her wand, transfigured her surroundings to her advantage, and launched back incapacitating hexes.

After several minutes and seeing at least a couple spectators get hit with deflected spells, Holly thought it was time to wrap things up. With that in mind, Holly overpowered her next stunner, shattering Hermione’s shield, distracting her enough to disarm her.

Smiling at eachother and tossing back Hermione’s wand, Holly turned to see the entire class staring at them, shock and awe on all their faces.

‘There, that should start enough rumors to discourage any attacks on me, at least for a bit. Maybe they’ll even realize how defenseless they are.’

With that optimistic thought in mind, Holly left the platform and Sirius dismissed the class soon after.

But not before mentioning his dueling club to the class.

---

After Defense with Sirius, none of her classes were anywhere near as… interesting.

Transfiguration and Charms were easy as ever, she was capable of performing the entire years’ curriculum silently. Could even do some of it wandlessly, not that she’d be showing that in public anytime soon. All she’d have to do in class this year was keep her head down.

Care of Magical Creatures was, thankfully, not focusing on any ‘Hagrid Originals’ this year thankfully, instead focusing on normal magical creatures for once.

Holly didn’t squeal when she got to pet a niffler. She didn’t . Anybody who might have believed such a filthy lie received a glare promising death if they started spreading such lies.

Problem solved.

Overall, things were looking to be an academically boring year, something she appreciated as it’d let her focus on her ongoing mental fight with Adult Tom.

That is, if she ignored the fact that Adult Tom figured out that he could make her look bad by mentally attacking her in the middle of her classes.

Sure, he didn’t know her exact schedule, but it didn’t matter what class he attacked her during, simply the fact it was in during a class. If he was trying to make her look mentally unstable by making her randomly flinch in pain, it wasn’t working… yet.

But it would. No mental defense was perfect, not under sustained attacks.

It might take a week or a month or more, but eventually exhaustion and her weakening mental defense would make her falter. Rumors of her being unstable or sick would spread. There were plenty of Death Eater’s kids in Hogwarts, at least one of them had to be reporting back to Adult Tom on her.

If she publicly faltered then someone might try to assassinate her. Well, she was already expecting assassination attempts, but being visibly vulnerable would invite more. They would be clumsy, dumb attempts but she knew someone could eventually get lucky.

That’s why she had to strike back at Adult Tom.

She’d already scouted out the outer defenses of his mindscape but had probed his defenses yet. Adult Tom didn’t expect her to attack him back yet, she wanted to take full advantage of that and launch a devastating surprise.

All Holly needed was a proper opening.

---

Her opening came almost a week later, in the middle of breakfast of all times.

She was minding her own business, eating her breakfast and ignoring everything else, when a patronus messenger suddenly flew by her on its way straight to Dumbledore. She couldn’t hear its message, but it was obvious based on how Dumbledore immediately ran out of the Hall.

‘I didn’t know elderly men could move that fast. Maybe the eternal elixirs I gave him helped with that?’ Was her first thought, followed shortly by, ‘oh sh*t! This is my chance!’

Ditching her food, Holly made a quick escape from the Hall while everyone was too distracted panicking. The second the Hall’s doors closed behind her she broke into a dead sprint to the Room.

When she arrived into the Room, she summoned the Diadem from her Trunk and put it on, sat down on the suitably grandiose meditation platform the Room created, and sank into her own mind.

She could immediately feel the difference even before she probably entered his outer mindscape; Adult Tom’s malice, bloodlust, and sad*stic glee was all but pouring out from his side of the connection. Ignoring that, she pressed on down their mental link until her mental avatar was at his mindscape’s outer defenses.

Opening her not-eyes, Holly could immediately spot differences in his mindscape. Despite the miasma of Adult Tom’s emotions pouring out, the sea surrounding his island mindscape was calm. Now that was a blatant sign his defenses were weaker due to his distraction.

Stepping her not-body forward, she willed a not-motorboat into being. Before she moved forward, weakening her connection to her own mind and limiting her ability to alter this not-reality, Holly quickly created several more not-items inside her not-speedboat.

Namely, an inflatable not-dinghy and large pile of not-plastic explosives.

Sure, it was just about the least magical solution to a magical problem, but hey, if it works it works, right?

And it would work. Mindscapes were mental representations of a person, and while they could be altered, the underlying logic of the not-reality worked according to the individual’s beliefs.

Holly, obviously, knew what explosives did.

Adult Tom, who had spent weeks huddled away in bomb shelters during the London Blitz, was intimately familiar with the danger of explosives.

Thus, his mindscape could be blown up with explosives.

With that in mind, Holly flexed her mental might – enhanced by the Diadem – and forced her will onto this not-reality for one last thing. It pushed her to limits and immediately gave her a migraine, but it worked.

She only had Diary Tom and Adult Tom as references for designing mental attacks and they never needed anything other than brute force. She’d read about legitimency of course, but it was all theoretical and unhelpfully vague.

Still, using someone’s trauma against them was a classic, right?

Which is why the last item Holly had conjured into not-being was a German WWII bomber.

(Using a Nazi plane made her feel supremely dirty, but she’d read accuracy was required for fully capitalizing on trauma.)

With that in mind, Holly had her not-bomber take off into the air as she launched her not-motorboat forward towards Adult Tom’s island mindscape. A short not-boatride later, Holly was finally close enough to start her attack.

Naturally, Holly kicked it off with a (metaphysical) bang as her not-bomber unleashed its entire payload of not-bombs onto the outer walls of Adult Tom’s island mindscape. Not all of them were accurate, she couldn’t make them be since they both knew real bombers weren’t, but more than enough of the not-bombs hit.

There was a moment of silence as she watched sections of the not-walls explode, then crumble, before the not-shockwaves hit her.

There was a moment where Adult Tom’s mind radiated pure shock before his full furious attention focused down on her. The not-waves of the sea abruptly swelled and Holly had to brace her not-self as her not-speedboat bounced it’s way over the not-waves.

A second later his mind radiated pain and his attention was begrudgingly forced back to the outside world.

‘Still too distracted and leading his attack then, should be safe to attack his inner mindscape then,’ Holly thought.

Grinning, sent the not-motorboat forward at full speed towards a sea level gap in the broken not-wall at full speed.

Desperately hoping that Adult Tom either didn’t know about plastic explosives or understood how (surprisingly) stable they were, Holly rammed her not-motorboat over the not-rubble of the not-walls. There was horrible shearing noise as the two not-objects scrapped, but the not-boat managed to slide its way onto not-land without stopping or detonating any of the explosives on board.

Rushing forward on wobbly not-legs, Holly quickly grabbed all of her not-explosives before jumping off the not-boat and sprinting through Adult Tom’s mindscape towards the not-castle atop the not-hill. There were some mental defenses in the form of magical creatures, but nothing she couldn’t deal with.

Between Adult’s Tom’s arrogance that nobody could ever break into his mind and her not-bomber’s blanketing his mindscape in not-explosions, the defenses were shockingly minimal once she was inside.

Or at least, that's what she thought until a not-basilisk appeared as she got close to the not-castle.

During the Chamber debacle, Holly didn’t fully process that basilisk’s were sentient until the next day. She’d been too out of it to mentally reach out to the snake and realize that there was a mind to touch. After that, well, being sentient meant that didn’t change the fact it was a man-eating snake that was trying to eat kids. She didn’t feel conflicted for killing a sentient being.

But Adult Tom fully understood they were sentient. Even when he was creating a mental guardian in the form of one, that fact was in the back of his mind.

What that meant right now was that, despite only being a mental construct for defense, the not-basilisk still had a degree of autonomy. It wasn’t sentient, didn’t have the same degree of intelligence as even a dog, but it had something like an impression of where a mind would be.

An impression which allowed Holly to mentally track even with her not-eyes closed. Sprinting for her (very real) life, Holly threw her not-self away from several strikes, waiting for an opening.

Her opening came a few seconds later and Holly got the mental impression of rearing back to eat something. Grinning, Holly grabbed a not-grenade, pulled the not-pin, and threw it into the not-basilisk’s mouth before diving out of the way.

A second later there was a muffled ‘boom!’ and the not-basilisk stopped moving.

Opening her not-eyes, Holly examined the not-basilisk’s carcass with satisfaction.

‘And Hermione says that you can’t solve every problem with explosives.’ Holly thought, ‘after I tell her about this she’ll have to admit she’s wrong.’

Turning away, Holly sprinted the rest of the way to the (suspiciously Hogwarts looking) not-castle atop the not-hill. Its not-doors were closed and probably barred from the inside, but some not-blasting charges blew them up easily enough.

Stepping over the not-rubble, Holly got her first look at Adult Tom’s inner mindscape only to cringe at it.

There was an entrance hall, the walls lined with massive statues of snakes and green slytherin banners hanging from the ceiling. Beyond that was an obvious facsimile of Hogwarts’ Great Hall; only, instead of being accurate to reality, the professor’s table was replaced with a single throne, the tables replaced with audience seating facing the throne.

(There was a lot that could be inferred from someone’s choice of mindscape. Her own was modeled off of video game dungeons and walled off from the outside.

That Adult Tom had chosen to make his inner mindscape a throne room for lording over his childhood school said a lot about him.)

A throne that was occupied, of course, by a (surprisingly young looking?) Adult Tom. But Holly didn't care about that because besides the throne was a pensieve, obviously where Adult Tom’s memories were stored.

“You cannot be here,” said Adult Tom’s inner self. Oh right, she had to deal with that.

Rather than say anything, Holly pulled out a not-gun and started shooting.

Adult Tom’s mental representation obviously wasn’t real, wasn’t restrained by reality, but that didn’t matter. It didn’t have supernatural reflexes or speed, only that of the man it was a reflection of.

More than that, they both knew bullets were deadly, too fast to see or dodge. And thus they were here too.

The mental guardian didn’t quite manage to throw up a shield before the first bullet pierced its chest, followed by the rest of the not-clip’s worth. That wouldn’t kill it, it wouldn’t – couldn’t – die unless Adult Tom was either dead or braindead, but it sure had to hurt.

Sure enough, overwhelming pain flooded the mindscape and Adult Tom felt his mental representation’s injuries.

Which, good, that had to hurt.

Rushing up to the screaming and flailing mental construct as it flailed on the ground, Holly tipped its not-throne over to pin it down and kicked it in the face for good measure. Turning away from the still screaming not-being, approached the not-pensieve.

Sure enough, Holly could see countless memories swirling around in its depths. But towards the top, Holly could see his surface thoughts; could see Adult Tom’s point of view as he dueled Dumbledore.

But just below that was an older memory, one that he had spent years thinking about.

One that was on his mind even now.

An image of a much younger Snape bubbled up, crouching before Adult Tom and reciting a prophecy, followed immediately by the memory of Adult Tom leveling his wand at Holly’s infant self.

That…

That was…

‘Later,’ Holly thought to herself, viciously pushing her feelings down.

Unceremoniously, Holly cupped her not-hands and dipped them into the not-pensieve. She ignored the pain Adult Tom’s mindscape radiated once more as she lifted her not-hands, filled with liquid memories, back out.

After a second’s deliberation, Holly, not able to think for a better visualization for transferring the memories to herself, lifted her not-hands to her not-mouth and drank them.

The memories, Holly found, tasted like the emotions associated with them; in this case, mostly anger, pain, and sad*stic glee.

Or course, the taste occupied only a small portion of her attention; the rest was distracted by her migraine managing to get even worse as dozens of foreign memories flooded her mind.

‘That,’ Holly thought, ‘was awful. I can’t do that for all his memories. I need to somehow search for the most important ones. The ones that’ll be debilitating to lose, but hopefully won’t make him lash out even more.’

Attempting to convey that to the not-pensieve brought up memories of Adult Tom making and hiding his horcruxes. Which would have been perfect, if she hadn’t already had the goblins purify all but the Snake for her. She could make him forget about horcruxes and the ones he made entirely, but then he might end up relearning about them and making more.

That’d be a nightmare scenario. Not worth the risk.

Instead, Holly searched for and tore out the names of his supporters as many of his as possible; both his fighters and those financing him, from both locally and internationally. It was a surprisingly long list, which Holly quickly dubbed her sh*t List.

Holly was pulled from learning more of her future targets for robbery and assassination when she noticed Adult Tom’s attention shifting towards her once more. The emotions his mindscape was radiating focused on her as the mental construct behind her stopped screaming and started healing quickly; it's not-blood getting pulled back into its not-body.

That was a good sign she needed to leave.

Shoving her not-hands into the not-pensieve once more, Holly threw a handful of memories onto the not-floor to buy herself more time.

Ignoring the mental construct’s renewed screaming, she pulled off every not-explosive still on her. The not-plastic explosives fuses started their countdown and her remaining not-grenades got tossed over her not-shoulder as she sprinted out of Adult Tom’s inner mindscape.

She heard the not-explosives going off behind her but was too preoccupied to appreciate it considering the mindscape itself had come to life trying to kill her.

The not-ground shook beneath her even as it tried to swallow her not-feet with every step; the not-sky above filled with thunderclouds as manifestations of his fury.

It was an abrupt reminder that this reality was his to manipulate freely. She may be able to conjure not-objects in it, but that was only because of their mental link, the Diadem enhancing her mind, and Adult Tom not actively exerting his will on his mindscape.

Now though? She was like a bug trying not to get crushed beneath the boot of an apathetic and cruel child.

‘What I need,’ Holly thought, ‘is a distraction.’

With that in mind Holly did the only thing she could at the moment: she sent her not-bomber, now struggling to stay in the not-sky, flying straight towards the not-castle of Adult Tom’s inner mindscape.

It didn’t hit of course. Not-lightning struck it out of the not-sky; not-wind managing to push away most of the flaming not-wreckage before it hit.

The kamikaze attack didn’t hit but that didn’t mean it didn't work.

While his attention was forced away the ground stopped shaking and Holly was able to reach her not-speedboat. By the time he could focus on her again, she’d already armed the several metric tons of not-plastic explosives still in the not-boat; dragged her getaway not-dinghy into the not-water; and was riding at breakneck speeds over the not-waves back towards her own mind.

Soon as she was far enough away and could start to feel Adult Tom focusing on her, she pulled out the last not-thing she’d created earlier: a remote detonator for the several tons of not-plastic explosives still in the speedboat.

A press of a button triggered the largest explosion yet. A second later Holly was nearly thrown into the not-water when the shockwave hit her, rattling her not-teeth. The next instant the not-sound of the not-explosion caught up, making her not-hearing go silent except for her ears ringing.

Thankfully the hearing damage wouldn’t transfer to her real body… right? If it did then shooting Adult Tom’s mental construct of himself would have killed him, right?

She was mostly certain of that.

Ignoring that, a quick glance over her not-shoulder and she saw that a good chunk of Adult Tom’s island mindscape was simply gone , with most of what was left damaged by the force of the not-explosion. The not-castle atop the not-hill was still standing, but she could tell even from her current distance it was damaged.

Having most of your mindscape – including some of your inner mindscape – blown up had to hurt, because Adult Tom seemed too debilitated by pain to do anything to her.

A highly successful distraction, all things considered.

With a smile on her not-face, Holly easily made her way back to her own mind. An instant later Holly came back to awareness inside her own body, with a panicking Hermione hovering over her.

“Just launched my first major mental attack. Manage to steal some important memories and do some good damage to his mindscape. I’d call that a major success.”

Hermione, despite briefly looking interesting, didn’t stop looking concerned for some reason and muttered something. When Holly didn’t respond to whatever she said to herself, she started looking even more panicked.

“What?”

“I said you have blood covering your face!” Hermione shouted at her.

Wandlessly conjuring a mirror showed that, yes, she really did have blood coming out of her nose, eyes, and even her ears. Frankly, she looked like an extra from a horror movie.

A flick of her finger vanished all the blood, thankfully proving she hadn’t lost any hearing since she could suddenly hear Hermione’s panicked questions shouted at her as she cast diagnostic medical spells.

“I think I’m fine? The bleeding is probably a result of straining myself since I really pushed myself. You want to hear what I learned?”

Hermione, suddenly looking resigned, sank into the desk the Room conjured, and grabbed the provided paper and pencil, ignoring the bottle of firewhiskey beside them.

Which, why would the Room give her a firewhiskey right now? Was Hermione thinking about needing alcohol for disinfectant?

Holly was cut off from that thought when Hermione gave her an expectant look.

“Ok, so you know how I’ve been scouting out his mindscape's outer defenses?” She started. “Anyway, this morning…”

---

Sometime later, after fully explaining what had happened, Hermione had started eyeing the firewhiskey oddly. When she instead tried to slam her head into the desk face-first, the Room conjured a pillow to stop her. Instead of lifting her head, Holly could hear her muffled streaming even through the (impressively thick looking) pillow.

Meanwhile, Holly was too caught off guard to do anything but stare in confusion. Her friend was so weird sometimes.

Chapter 27: Year Five (II)

Chapter Text

For the rest of the day after what Holly now knew to be any attack on the Ministry, they had classes off. Rather understandable considering a large portion of the students were wondering if their parents had been killed in the fighting.

She managed to get the facts – as he knew them – from an exhausted and slightly singed Sirius in the Hogwarts hospital wing.

(Which, why was he there of all places? Were there no other places that could safely provide medical care to a known Order member or was Dumbledore treating Hogwarts as an Order safehouse? Whatever the case, it certainly didn’t give Holly a high opinion of wizard’s medical care system.)

Apparently Adult Tom, with his entire Inner Circle of Death Eaters, simply showed up in the Ministry lobby like they owned the place. Not exactly a great battle strategy, but considering it almost worked she couldn’t exactly say they were wrong to do so.

From there fighting erupted as the Aurors responded but they weren’t enough to stop the Adult Tom from crushing everyone and everything in his path. One of the Order’s members in the aurors (which, hello blatant corruption wizards were too stupid to see was corruption) sent out a patronos message calling in the Order. By the time Sirius and the rest of the Order managed to respond, Adult Tom and crew had gotten deep into the Ministry.

That’s where Sirius got shifty, either out of genuine ignorance or misplaced concern, and vaguely alluded to Adult Tom Attacking the Ministry because he was after a weapon there. Dumbledore had dueled Adult Tom and apparently managed to drive him off, even making him leave behind some of his groupies in his rush to escape. Dumbledore had gotten injured, but apparently managed to injure Adult Tom in turn.

From there Sirius was decided less helpful, going on tangents about how he’d “knew they could rely on Dumbledore” and “they say ‘he was the only wizard Voldemort was ever afraid’ for a reason.”

Holly and Hermione, making eye contact when Sirius looked away, came to a silent agreement not to mention that Adult Tom had fled because Holly had been attacking his mind, not Dumbledore. It’d be bad for morale and all that.

Plus he’d be all concerned and overprotective of her afterwards. No thanks.

(Not that he’d even believe it; let alone support her. She’d never told Sirius about her mind reading skills. Unless Dumbledore had told him, Sirius was under the impression she was only using occlumency to hold off Adult Tom; not to fight back.

That wasn’t even considering how he likely wouldn’t even approve, not just out of fear for her safety, but because he would see destroying someone’s mind as “dark magic.”

Sirius, she knew from The Rat’s memories, had formed his sense of right morality by doing what he thought his family hated. They hated werewolves, so Sirius befriended one. They were Slytherins, so Sirius hated Slytherins. His self identity revolved around rebelling against them, even now years after their death. Add in the fact he nearly got Snape killed during his 5th year and it was obvious Sirius had a… warped sense of morality.

The point was, if Sirius thought his family would approve of Holly’s method’s then he’d disprove; and if he disproved then he was liable to reflexively push her away.

So no, Holly wouldn’t ever be telling Sirius about attacking Adult Tom’s mind, not even once it was over.)

With that they thanked Sirius and left him to recover from his injuries in peace.

Once they were back in the Room, Holly turned to Hermione. “So it's pretty obvious Adult Tom was after the prophecy Snape told him about since he only knew part of it. But here’s what I don’t get: if the prophecy directly specified a ‘him’ as his prophesied downfall, how did it lead to him trying to kill me?”

“Didn’t you steal his memory of trying to kill you?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah but memories are complicated,” Holly answered, flopping down onto a suddenly-there couch. “They aren't linear or neatly arranged. Every memory is connected to countless others; you never get the complete picture from a single memory. I stole the memory of him trying to kill me, not him thinking about his exact reasoning leading up to that moment.”

“Plus, I didn’t exactly know what I was looking for. I just wanted memories that’d be debilitating to lose but wouldn’t make him more unpredictable.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Hermione said, before looking at her sharply. “Do you think Dumbledore would tell you the rest of the prophecy?”

That… was a good question.

Dumbledore liked to keep vital intelligence to himself, even when it risked everything. Maybe especially when it risked everything. To her knowledge he never told any Order members Adult Tom’s real name or anything about the horcruxes.

He knew Voldemort was attacking her mind too. Knew that anything she knew was at risk. Sure, she’d been able to keep him out so far, but she couldn’t manage that forever.

On the other hand, he knew she was upset with him for keeping his suspicions she was a horcrux secret. If he wanted to improve their relationship, to try and gain some degree of control over her actions, he would tell her everything he knows.

Holly knew she misunderstood people, even when she cared to pay attention to them. They just didn’t make sense to her most of the time.

Dumbledore, however, she understood.

He was a chessmaster through and through. While his intentions were mostly benevolent, he was ruthlessly practical enough to use young and dumb fresh school graduates like her parents as his fighters. He, and the Order at large, fought to maintain the status quo.

He probably didn’t like pureblood supremacy and its implicit classism but believed it was simply a part of their society's culture and let it be. That he was a hypocrite seemed to escape him: he covered up the rich pureblood Marauders’ crimes during the Werewolf incident, ignoring that the impoverished halfblood Snape nearly got killed.

Although… that could be because he’d already been planning to invite them into Order.

But that wasn’t considering how he made sure that Tom Riddle and several other muggleborns had to go back to London during the London Blitz. Because apparently he didn’t care if those other muggleborns were collateral damage if he managed to get Tom Riddle killed, it was the greater good something like that.

As a chessmaster who saw her as an important and rogue piece, he’d want to bring back under his control. Sharing intelligence that concerns her and he knew she’d learn anyway would be a good way to try to regain her trust.

Perhaps that was an overly cynical way of looking at him but Holly didn’t think she was wrong.

“I think he’ll tell me.” Decision made, Holly set off towards his office.

---

Knocking on his door before getting called in, Holly once again was impressed with the sheer amount of stuffDumbledore had covering every available surface. Looking towards Dumbledore to check for injuries, she could see his left arm was in a sling, the visible parts of his hand bandaged.

“Ah, miss Potter, I suspected I’d be seeing you soon. Lemon drop?” he asked, gesturing to the candy dish with his injured arm. At her negative response, he instead grabbed one for himself and started talking unprompted.

“Before we mention why you’re here, I would like to assure you I will make a full recovery. Quick treatment and your eternal elixirs will see to that.”

“Marvelous things, those elixirs. All my joint pain; gone overnight! I had to check if my hair was still white! Even now, despite this injury, I still feel decades younger.” His expression abruptly sobered as he continued, “it was only thanks to them I was able to hold back Tom at all.”

Now there was something she was sure he’d never let anyone else hear.

“But that is not why you are here, is it?” he asked, expression shrewd. “During our duel, there was an odd moment when Tom - just after he managed to land this curse on me - started clutching his head in pain. In fact, from then on he was clearly pained and distracted; not able to duel properly. It forced him to flee or risk being defeated, fast enough he left some of his followers behind.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, miss Potter?”

Well, there was as good as confirmation he knew about her mentally attacking Adult Tom. She couldn’t deny it if she wanted answers about the prophecy, but fully admitting the truth wasn’t an option either.

Instead, she shrugged, casually saying “I might” as her non-answer, before continuing. “I, hypothetically, might know he was after a prophecy in the Department of Mysteries that predicted who would defeat him.”

“Ah, I suspected that is why you came.”

Well that made things simple.

“Then you know what I’m going to ask you about.”

Nodding his assent to her implied question, he brought his (clearly) pre-prepared pensieve out of nowhere and levitated in over to her. Holly, still standing in the middle of his office, unceremoniously shoved her face in as soon as it was close enough.

When she sunk into the memory Holly didn’t bother looking about, wondering who the woman was, or even Snape fumbling around outside the room. With laser focus she listened to the words that had shaped her life.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…”

That…

Just… what?

Pulling her face out, all Holly could do was dumbly stare at Dumbledore.

Chuckling at her obvious confusion, Dumbledore summoned his pensieve back before saying anything.

“I must confess, I felt much the same when I realized the prophecy applied to you. I cannot be certain as to how , but I have had ample time to theorize. You may wish to sit down first, this may be a long conversation.”

Numbly pulling out a chair in front of his desk and sitting down, he started explaining. “Sixteen years ago, after I heard that prophecy, I did not believe it applied to you. I recommended your parents go into hiding because I believed Tom’s paranoia might cause him to target you regardless. Your parents were well-known Order members afterall, I did not believe Tom above killing his enemies’ children in order to terrify his opposition.”

“Now, my theories for how it applies-” he started before Holly cut him off.

“Wait, you mean there’s no doubt it applies to me? How?” Seriously, the prophecy specifically mentioned a ‘him’ at least a few times.

“Despite not meeting the specified gender, you have undoubtedly been ‘marked’. Your scar, and the soul fragment it contains, is definitive proof.” Dammit, she couldn’t exactly argue with that.

“As for how it applies to you, my dear, is where we must speculate.” Sighing to himself and adjusting his injured arm, he explained, “my first theory is that Tom believed your parents lied about your gender to everyone, even their closest friends, when you were born to avoid the prophecy. Tom, after all, does not —cannot—understand the meaningful bonds other people have.”

“This is plausible considering your status as a metamorphmagus. Even more so if someone happened to know you were born at home, with none of your parents' friends able to be there. The only witness, the midwife, died shortly after during a raid.”

That… sounded surprisingly reasonable. If Holly was in that position (and wasn’t that a terrifying thought? Her having a kid? Yeah, no, that thought immediately got locked away in the Vault of Unwanted Memories.) then lying to protect your kid sounded smart. Actually-

“Is there any reason why my parents didn’t do that?” Having your kid avoid becoming the target of assassination attempts from someone like Adult Tom sounded like a good thing.

“While I knew there were two expecting mothers in the Order at the time, I did not share the full contents of the prophecy with them; only that they would both be targeted because of their unborn child.”

“I…” and here he trailed off, looking away, “I had already decided both expecting couples should hide, even if it had seemed clear there was only one prophesied child. After all, Tom knew about both upcoming births as well, if not their expected genders, thanks to Pettigrew. He was always going to come after both of you, or so I believed…”

That… Holly wasn’t going to think about that. If she did she’d be too mad to properly squeeze him for information.

“And your second theory?” Holly asked, interested after hearing his surprisingly plausible first theory.

“My second is less specific, instead focusing on your ability as a metamorphmagus. Being able to shapeshift, you can take a male form anytime you wish. Perhaps you were temporarily in that form during your birth or just before Tom attempted to kill you.”

“Likewise, should you happen to kill Tom while in a male form it may fulfill the prophecy.”

Holly… wasn’t able to think about anything in response to that. Not because of what would give most people an existential identity crisis, but because she felt so stupid for not realizing it herself years ago.

Holly was Holly, no matter the shape. That said, for all that she never thought about her appearance, she had never altered her ‘default’ appearance from her natural form either. Well, other than making herself taller to herself survive the Triwizard Tournament and that was a purely functional change. Well, she'd slightly altering her boobs too to make her bras more comfortable, but that was it.

She wouldn’t say she liked her natural appearance, hadn’t thought about it enough to, but she certainly didn’t dislike it.

But seriously, how had she not realized she could shapeshift herself into a boy years ago? She’d play around with that when she had some free time.

“And your third theory?”

“Perhaps Tom targeted your parents, not because of the prophecy, but out of simple convenience. Once Pettigrew shared the Secret they would have appeared an easy target. Perhaps he wished to make an example out of them. However, with Pettigrew incapacitated,” Holly had to force her face to stay blank to stop herself from grinning at that, “I cannot ask how long he was a -”

“Four months,” Holly interrupted. “He spied on the Order and my parents for four months. Adult Tom personally cornered him and he joined in exchange for his life.”

“... ah.” Blinking in surprise, he continued, “while good to know, unfortunately it does not clarify Tom’s thoughts on the matter. Perhaps Tom delayed targeting your parents so he could maintain his spy in the Order. Or perhaps he thought I believed you truly were one of the potential children of prophecy.”

That reminded her, “you’ve mentioned a few times there was another person the prophecy seemed to obviously apply. Who is it?”

Seriously, why did she get f*cked over — by a prophecy that seemingly didn’t apply to her at that — instead of them?

“That would be Neville Longbottom. He was born during the specified time and his parents also fulfilled the requirements.”

“Huh.” She could vaguely see Neville as a prophesied savior. Sure, Neville was obviously lacking in confidence but he seemed like a good guy. If he hadn’t, well, she wouldn’t have let him go with Hermione to the Ball, to put it mildly.

“Is there a reason they weren’t targeted first? I mean, it sounds like he was the obvious choice.”

“When I informed both your parents’ and mr Longbottom's I offered to cast the fidelius charm for both them and your parents. Your parents, especially your father, wanted to use the fidelius charm. The Longbottoms did not.”

“Instead, they retreated to Longbottom Manor. From there they spent a large portion of their wealth hiring both Gringotts and wardmasters from overseas to improve their security. Longbottom Manor had ancient and formidable wards before the war – they have never been broken – and afterwards, with their security improvements, Longbottom Manor became all but unassailable.”

That was interesting, but…

‘Am I imagining things, or is he implying that my father dragged my mother into using the fidelius charm because of his childhood friendships? That… seems stupid, especially in hindsight.’

‘But ignoring that, it sure sounds like the Longbottoms survived because they were smart enough to trust nobody. And the fact they had boatloads of money. No wonder the fighting dosn’t seem to affect purebloods: they’re genuinely not in as much danger, even if they were targeted.

‘Meanwhile my parents, or maybe just my father, would rather trust the literal Rat.’

Holly was pulled out of her spiraling thoughts when Dumbledore continued. “I’m afraid those are my only theories. There is no way for me to confirm my suspensions.”

Now there was a statement with some pretty obvious implications.

‘Looks like its time for me to make my quick escape,’ she thought. ‘Rather not get lectured or accused of anything.’

“Ah, true.” She casually agreed as abruptly stood up. “Well, thanks for sharing this with me, I’ll let you recover in peace.”

Oh sh*t, she almost forgot! Pulling out the list of (most of) Voldemort's supporters she’d written earlier, she handed it over to Dumbledore. “I stumbled into this recently. Thought it could help.”

Ready to leave before he could say anything else, Holly turned and started power walking away. Unfortunately, Dumbledore still managed to call out to her just as she was opening his office door.

“Miss Potter, I cannot condone any course of action that puts you at significant risk, of course,” and wasn’t that a blatant lie “but your interference in my duel with Tom more than likely saved my life. For that you have my gratitude.”

Now what she supposed to say to that? She couldn’t outright admit what she’d done, but it also didn't sound like he’d be making any attempt to stop her in the future.

Well, when in doubt: plausible deniability.

“I’m afraid I don't know what actions I may or may not have done that you’re talking about.” Holly deadpanned, blatantly lying to his face.

“Ah, of course,” he said, smiling to himself and eating another candy. “Do take care, miss Potter.”

Taking the opening, Holly rushed out, letting the door slam behind her.

---

Explaining that all to Hermione earned Holly a very familiar look of absolute confusion. No wonder Dumbledore had laughed at her expression, it was hilarious when you were on the other side.

That expression lasted until Holly took pity on the other girl and struggled to stop laughing at her long enough to explain Dumbledore’s theories to Hermione. After that she was done she leaned back to settle in and gave Hermione time to think.

Naturally, it didn’t take long.

“Are you sure you should have told me this?” Hermione asked, “I’m not nearly good enough at occlumency to protect my mind.”

That was true. Hermione certainly wasn’t bad at occlumency but she was nowhere near good enough to guarantee the safety of her thoughts. But-

“It doesn’t matter, Hermione. The prophecy, I mean.” Before Hermione could interrupt she quickly continued, “I’ve been working on killing Adult Tom for years already and it's the same for him. All the prophecy does is give us justification for what we were already going to do.”

Leaning back to look at the Room’s ceiling – now decorated in morbid yin-yang symbols of herself and Adult Tom attempting to kill each other – Holly could only say: “we were always going to try and kill each other.”

And it was true.

Even if Adult Tom hadn’t tried to kill her as a baby, he still would’ve tried sometime later since she was the daughter of two Order members.

Likewise, even if her parents hadn't been targeted that night they were still overwhelmingly likely to get killed in some random fight; either by Death Eaters or perhaps Adult Tom himself. That’d be enough to make that version of Holly decide to kill that version of Adult Tom.

Whether that was due to the prophecy itself warping fate to make itself come true; the prophecy unconsciously altering its subjects’ actions; or simply a prediction based on the most likely decisions of those involved; it didn’t matter. Holly was going to keep trying her best to kill Adult Tom just as he would keep trying to kill her.

Nothing could stop that.

Hermione, pursing her lips, didn’t seem to agree but Holly didn’t mind.

“What about Snape?” she asked. Now that was a good question.

Obviously she didn’t like the fact he was the one that told Adult Tom about the prophecy. That said… Holly wasn’t naive enough to believe the prophecy would have remained secret forever. Some Death Eater working in the Department of Mysteries or the Rat would have told him eventually.

Snape was simply the (un)lucky fool for being the first one.

Now, Snape willingly joining Adult Tom’s cult? That was entirely his own fault.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately for her peace of mind?) Holly didn’t know much about Snape back then other than (1) he is complete and utter bastard; (2) he had been bullied by her father and his friends; (3) he willingly joined Adult Tom's cult; and (4) he used to be friends with her mother for some unknown reason.

(Actually, now that she thought about it, The Rat knew shockingly little about her mother for someone that had been trusted to protect her with his life.He knew what she looked like, that she’d been friends with Snape until they abruptly weren’t, and saw when her parents abruptly started dating.

Or rather, he saw Sirius tease her parents about “private late night patrols with the Head Girl Evans” and make them blush. Holly… deeply regretted having that memory now that she was old enough to understand.

But back on topic: The Rat never had a single one-on-one conversation with her mother. It seemed like the so-called Marauders never let her mother become one of them.

During their seventh year, after her parents started dating and just as they started making the Marauder’s Map, her mother’s contributions made it possible. Not that she knew that, since the Marauders had lied about what they were working on and chose to keep the Map secret from her.

Even when her parents were in hiding, stuck in their house, her father had been sneaking out behind her back to see his friends. Sneaking out while they were in hiding! Sure, he’d been locked in for months but that was still stupid. And Sirius had laughed while showing her mother’s rather passive aggressive letter asking him to stop her father from sneaking out to The Rat later!

Overall, The Rat’s knew shockingly little about her mother and had plenty of clues her parent’s marriage wasn’t fairytale perfect.

And that wasn’t even mentioning how her father seemed like a jerk and Sirius... she didn't want to think about it.)

Shoving those thoughts away, Holly knew the simple fact was that she needed to get into Snape’s mind and sort through his memories. She’d be able to determine exactly what he deserved.

(That it’d be the only way for her to learn more about her parents, especially her mother, was irrelevant.)

But that’d come later, once Adult Tom was dead. For now she'd do nothing.

Explaining all that might start an argument and Holly was exhausted after her long day, so she simply said, “in good time.”

Deciding not to waste what little mental energy she had left, Holly summoned the Diadem and sank into her mindscape to begin reinforcing it. She was too drained to capitalize on Adult Tom’s vulnerability, but she could do this.

She could tell Adult Tom was still recovering from her attack. Had been able to feel his seething anger in the back of her mind all day. When he did recover enough to attack her it would be brutal and overwhelming. Better reinforce her guard now before their mental fight inevitably became a drawn out slugfest.

With that in mind, Holly got to work.

Chapter 28: Year Five (III)

Chapter Text

Sleep loss is an insidious thing.Under normal circ*mstances it was harmless. Hogwarts implicitly required it thanks to their (pointless) astronomy classes at midnight.

But these weren’t normal circ*mstances.

Over the summer, when Adult Tom attacked her mind nonstop for ten days, she hadn’t suffered too badly. Sure, it was a miserable and painful experience, but she’d acclimated to the constant pain. Meditation, naps, and potions dulled the worst of it. It worked then and she forced Adult Tom to back off.

After that failed he'd switched tactics to random attacks. His nonstop attack felt like a drill boring against her head; now, at any random moment, she felt like she was being stabbed in the forehead with a molten knife. The unpredictability made it worse since it stopped her from being able to brew potions; potions that, until then, had relieved the worst of it.

Despite that, she’d known even then that it’d get worse- he wasn’t disrupting her sleep schedule with his attacks yet. Adult Tom wasn’t stupid. She knew he’d figure it out sooner than later.

That day had arrived, Holly knew, when she was forced awake in the middle of the night feeling like her brain was on fire.

It hadn’t even been a week since she’d attacked his mind!

She hadn’t taken advantage of his weakened mindscape because she’d wanted to sort through the memories she’d stolen; something she was regretting now.

Could he really have repaired his mindscape already? Or was he reckless enough to lash out without protecting his mind first?

‘Only one was to find out’ Holly thought, and sank into her own mindscape.

---

Standing on her mindscape's metaphysical outer wall overlooking their mental connection, Holly was finally about to ‘see’ what Adult Tom’s mental attack looked like.

‘Or not,’ she thought, as she was immediately forced to cover her eyes with her not-arm.

Conjuring eye goggles on her avatar, Holly looked around.

Adult Tom’s attack had taken the form of a sandstorm. Her mental wall was blocking most of it, but the fierce winds still managed to blow across the ramparts.

That… was probably a bad sign. Maybe it was the metaphysical representation for her not being able to completely block out the pain?

Whatever it was meant to represent, clearly she needed to reinforce her defenses further.Especially with how she could see sections of the metaphysical wall being worn down by the wind. That was certainly a bad sign.

Interestingly, she didn’t see an avatar of Adult Tom attacking, but felt his attention or perhaps his awareness within the not-sandstorm. That wasn’t surprising. Holly herself had gotten the idea of using an avatar from video games.

As for as she knew, ‘normal’ mental attacks took two forms: using brute force to completely overpower someones defenses – like Adult Tom’s metaphysical sandstorm – or were precision strikes, where the attacker found a weak point in the defender’s defenses and forced their way in there.

Neither of those methods, however, accounted for having a mental link between the two.

No form of metal defense or offense did.

The most obvious effect of the link was that they could use it to attack each other's mind no matter the distance. Their very souls were connected after all. There was no escape; no breaking it.

The link also changed their mindscapes at a basic level.

Normally, the outer defense of someone's mindscape was just that: an outer defense . It was the boundary between a person's mind and the nothingness beyond. An attacker couldn’t (metaphysically) sit outside it and observe their defenses with conjured binoculars from afar like Holly had done to Adult Tom.

That was another difference: conjuring metaphysical objects outside your own mind was normally impossible. It was supposed to only be possible within your own mindscape. Because of that limitation it was normally limited to building your mindscape’s structure and defenses.

Holly, and Adult Tom once he realized it, could conjure things inside each other's minds due to the mental spillover the link created.

Unfortunately, the ability grew weaker the further they were from their own mind or else Holly would have conjured enough not-plastic explosives to vaporize Adult Tom's mindscape.

Then there was the link itself acting as a metaphysical open road between their minds. Not only that but it could be used as something of a staging ground. If Holly wanted, she could conjure a column of tanks just outside her mindscape and have them drive over to attack Adult Tom’s mind.

Actually… why hadn’t she done that already?Saving that idea for later, Holly focused her attention on reinforcing her defenses.

Sometime later the not-sandstorm suddenly fell back. Instead of going back to sleep Holly began conjuring a metaphysical army into being.

---

Creating her army took longer than she expected despite using the Diadem- nearly a week’s worth of free time.

The only reason she wasn’t upset with herself is because Adult Tom’s hadn’t let her sleep more than a few hours at a time since she’d started. Her accumulated sleep loss, combined with needing to stop and repel Adult Tom’s attacks, training with Hermione, and attending her classes, had distracted her enough to considerably slow her progress.

Or so she assumed. She didn’t exactly have a standard control group she could compare herself to. Maybe if she taught Hermione they could-

‘Stop getting distracted, Holly’ she told herself, ‘it’s time to attack.’

With that Holly mentally commanded her conjured army to start moving down the metaphysical road towards Adult Tom’s mind. In perfect synchronicity a column of not-tanks, crewed by conjured soldiers, started rolling forwards. Behind them Holly heard the metaphysical engines of her not-bomber squadrons start as they took off into the air.

Holly’s avatar was, naturally, manning the turret on the lead tank.

‘This should be enough to seriously damage Adult Tom’s mindscape again. Maybe even enough to destroy it so I can break and steal more memories.’

‘Hopefully it’ll catch him off guard too. I doubt he’s expecting me to launch a major attack out of nowhere like this. I’ve only attacked him while he’s been distracted leading attacks before.’

That was the only change in the last week: Adult Tom had changed his attack’s targets. Instead of leading attacks against magical targets, now he exclusively led attacks against non magical targets. Suburbs, tube stations, business districts, and apartment blocks were destroyed and covered up as freak disasters. Since no wizards were being targeted any Order or Ministry response was inevitably too slow to respond.

It seemed like he didn’t want to risk getting into a serious fight if he knew Holly could sabotage him.

The worst part is that the attacks – which certainly had killed at least several hundred already – only received small mentions in the papers. Apparently people being massacred was hardly worth mentioning if they didn’t have magic.

Holly hated it. Hated wizarding societies’ collective superiority complex, made even worse because they didn’t have the self awareness to realize how much wizard’s depended on normal people for survival.

Hermione, anytime she saw the paper and how dismissive people were of the attacks; how relieved people were that Adult Tom changed targets, turned into rage and fury incarnate.

The first time someone implied they didn’t care if Adult Tom targeted normal people, Hermione cursed the boy to vomit sh*t for hours.

The second time Hermione cursed the upperclassman girl with permanent bald spots and branded 'Muggle Genocide Supporter' to her forehead.

The third time Hermione got creative with partial human transfiguration and the whole group needed to get treated at st. Mungos.

Nobody talked about it around Hermione again after that.

(Even Holly was… concerned . Hermione was a ball of suppressed rage, ready to lash out at anyone for saying the wrong thing. Thankfully she spent most of her time distracted by classes or worrying over Holly, but if Hermione was left alone… Holly wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up killing someone for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and place.

Holly would help her cover it up of course, but that didn’t mean she supported it. Not when it’d be so easy to get caught. Not if they were still too young to know better. Not when it didn’t serve a purpose.

So Holly kept Hermione close where she was too distracted fretting to be angry. It was sorta like that famous phrase, only not. More like ‘Keep your friends close, and your potentially murderous best friend even closer.’

That didn’t exactly roll off the tongue but Holly didn’t have the spare brainpower nowadays to think of something catchier.)

Holly knew Adult Tom changed focus to attacking normal people because he was avoiding fights, but a childish part of her hoped it was because she’d stolen his memories of most of his supporters’ names, so he was trying to relearn them away from any enemies who’d notice his mistakes.

Imagining Adult Tom trying to order his minions around while desperately covering up the fact he didn’t know their names never failed to make her smile.

His supporters were pureblood supremacists that highly valued their family names; they'd be offended if Adult Tom forgot their prized incestuous lineages. Or maybe not. Who knows what goes on in the mind of cultists?

Caught up in her thoughts, the trip to Adult Tom’s island mindscape seemed alarmingly quick.

Holly was pulled out of her thoughts as the not-tank jolted, the metaphysical road meeting the rocky outcropping overlooking the not-ocean of Adult Tom’s outer mindscape.

Looking closer, Holly almost immediately saw the defensive upgrades Adult Tom made to his mindscape. Raising her not-binoculars, Holly looked closer.

A swarm of not-dragons flew circles over his island mindscape; in the water, massive dark shapes moved beneath the surface; the not-walls circling the island had masked not-Death Eaters patrolling them. Even the not-castle atop the hill had changed, it looked less ornate and more practically defensive.

That… wasn’t good.

It seemed like he’d spent every free minute this week conjuring himself an army too.

Attacking now would be tougher than she’d hoped. Unfortunately, she could feel his attention focusing on her, could see his not-dragons breaking their pattern to intercept her not-bombers. It was too late to turn back and go unnoticed.

Holly launched her attack.

Rows of not-tanks fired. Not-bombers' turrets filled the sky with not-tracer rounds as their not-bombs fell. Not-dragons roared in fury and pain. Massive not-tentacles emerged as the leviathans attacked.

Almost immediately the sky was filled with dead not-dragons and flaming not-bomber wrecks as they fell en mass from the not-sky; smoke, tracer rounds, and falling debris ruined visibility; cannon-fire, explosions, and dragon’s roaring deafened her.

It was chaos like Holly had never before seen.

Holly didn’t know how long it lasted; she was so overwhelmed by the chaos she was almost crushed by a not-leviathan tentacle aiming for her not-tank. She managed to dive away, but not fast enough since her right not-foot was crushed.

It hurt. A single thought healed the damage to her avatar, but it couldn’t erase the phantom pain.

Looking at her remaining forces, Holly could see necrotic not-bodies slowly emerging from the not-water as they started climbing up the not-cliffside. Because of course Adult Tom would put not-inferni in the not-water of his outer mindscape.

Holly really should’ve expected that.

Seeing the not-inferni, the best course of action was obvious.

‘Time to retreat,’ she mentally ordered as she ran towards a nearby not-tank. Several not-tanks and not-bombers continued their attack to serve as distractions while the rest, with Holly leading them, fell back towards her own mindscape.

When they were at a safe distance pulled out her not-binoculars again to inspect the damage. Or, what she could see of it considering the not-smoke still filling the air.

‘Oh damn, looks like I fell back at the right time’ she thought, immediately seeing the still growing swarm of not-inferni swarming her remaining not-tanks. With a thought she directed her few remaining not-bombers towards them, blowing most of them to bits.

‘Looks like nearly all his dragon constructs were killed, his inferni swarm was exposed and decimated, and I bet at least some of the not-bombs landed on his inner mindscape too. But it cost me the majority of my forces.’

‘Seems like an inconclusive fight. Or maybe slightly in my favor? Or possibly a complete failure since I showed him a new way to attack me?’

Either way, she was exhausted both physically and mentally without much to show for it. Plus she still had to go to all her classes today.

Good times.

---

After (barely) managing to stay awake through the days’ classes, Holly took Hermione back to the Room and told her what happened.

She… didn’t seem to take it too well. Holly understood, she wasn’t happy how inconclusive it was either.

For some reason mentioning that caused the Room to summon several fire whiskeys and (even more) thick pillows around Hermione.

Was the Room glitching? It was supposed to summon what you wanted but Hermione didn’t need to disinfect any wounds. Maybe she should start studying the Room to make sure it wasn’t breaking.Holly did not want to know what’d happen to them if the magically expanded space collapsed with them in it.

Holly said as much out loud and it seemed Hermione agreed because she shoved her face into a pillow and started screaming into it. Holly gave her a couple supportive shoulder pats.

---

Not even a day later Holly was already rebuilding her decimated metaphysical army.

In hindsight, she realized she’d shown her hand far too early. Now Adult Tom would use her idea for himself, increasing the effectiveness of his attacks against her.

The secret was out and Holly would have to deal with the consequences.

---

Like she'd expected, it wasn’t long until Adult Tom struck back.

In the middle of professor Flitwick’s lecture Holly felt her head explode in pain. Not the usual ‘getting stabbed in the forehead’ feeling; it felt like her head was burning from the inside out while simultaneously being crushed.

That… wasn’t a good sign.

Abruptly standing up, Holly muttered some excuse and hurried out of the classroom before anyone could stop her.

‘I have to get to the Room,’ she thought. ‘I need the Diadem.’

Holding the wall for support, she started moving forwards. One foot in front of the other. She could do this. She would.

The alternative was death; that was unacceptable.

The Room wasn’t that far away, she could-

“Not so arrogant are you now, Potter?” Looking up (when had she looked down?) she saw a small group of older Slytherins sneering at her. “The so-called Girl-Who-Lived can’t even stand up! How could anyone think you could fight the Dark Lord?”

“He ordered us to kill you but I don’t see why he bothered. You look like you’re about to fall over and die anyways!”

Holly, if she was able to form coherent thoughts, would have been insulted.

Did Adult Tom seriously think these idiots could kill her? Yes, she was in a debilitating amount of pain and they had suspiciously good timing, but did he really think she’d roll over and die to them? That she’d let herself die before Adult Tom and his cultists were dealt with?

Just as she was about to attack the laughing group she heard a familiar voice shout “Holly!” and heard footsteps running closer.

“So the mudblood bedwarmer came to help. Just when I thought you-”

Ignoring them, Holly attacked. Flicking a finger, Holly tried to wandlessly tried to throw them into the wall.

Keyword being tried - she only succeeded in knocking them over. Thankfully Hermione was already throwing stunners to knock them out. Flicking her wand into her hand, she and Hermione managed to stun and restrain them all before they could properly fight back.

Soon as the fight was over Holly lurched forward, blood freely dripping from her nose.

Holly blinked; Hermione suddenly was right next to her with Holly’s arm slung over her shoulders.

“We need to get you to the Hospital Wing Holly! Maybe Madam Pomfrey can-”

“No hospital wing. Need the Diadem.” Holly’s eyes were barely open but she could feel Hermione give her a Look. That didn’t make sense: she was suffering from a mental attack and the Diadem would help her repel it. It was that simple. Was she missing something?

Whatever, she could ask Hermione later.

“Going into my mindscape now.”

“Wait, Holly!” Was the last thing she heard before she opened her avatar’s eyes, standing atop her mindscape’s outer wall.

An outer wall that was currently crumbling under the onslaught of several massive not-basilisks and hordes of not-giants. Judging how behind them she could see countless not-giant corpses littering outside the wall it was clear her defensive conjured army hadn’t gone down without a fight.

‘Well, first things first’ she thought, and conjured a not-rooster into non-existence.

It might have been influenced by how furious the last rooster Holly met was because it immediately crowed and started pecking her avatar’s hands. Job complete, Holly tossed it away to watch the not-basilisks scream their death throws as they flailed in pain.

Flailing that her crumbling outer wall couldn’t handle as it finally collapsed as the dying not-basilisks fell on it.

The not-giants roared and pounded their chests as they ran forward; straight into Holly’s inner garrison of not-tanks. The not-tanks, finally able to fire without the wall blocking them, open fired, cutting down the front row of not-giants.

Holly herself was forced to jump off the wall before it collapsed, retreating towards her remaining forces while frantically conjuring more.

‘This is my mindscape,’ she reminded herself, ‘I’m the one that can endlessly conjure more, not him.’ Despite that, Adult Tom’s not-army seemed endless.

Tanks, Holly could see, were not meant for melee range. They were great at killing not-giants from afar, but once they closed the gap they were almost useless. The not-giants' skin was too thick for her not-soldiers guns too, but thankfully that didn’t stop them from targeting the not-giants' eyes.

Behind the not-giant shock troops Holly could see hoards of faceless not-Death Eaters, not-inferni, and transformed not-werewolves.

Mercifully, she couldn’t see any conjured dementors. Thankfully it seemed Adult Tom wasn’t insane enough to conjure unkillable, soul sucking abominations inside his own mind.

If this wasn’t her own mind, Holly would cast fiendfyre at the army and be done with it. But considering fiendfyre was capable of destroying souls, using it inside her mind would be a terrible idea. Instead, Holly concentrated as she willed a sea of spikes into metaphysical existence, impaling the approaching not-army.

Her lapse in awareness meant she didn’t notice when a not-giant got close enough to smack her avatar with the not-tank it was carrying. Holly, or rather her avatar, went flying backwards until she crashed into rubble, turning into a not-pile of shattered bones and bloody flesh on impact.

The pain was indescribable .

Fear wasn’t the mindkiller, this all-consuming pain was.

It was all that existed for some immeasurable moment until Holly willed her avatar back to health. The phantom pain lingered but she powered through it.

Forcing her not-self upright, Holly took the shaky break to survey the not-battle. The not-giants were still raging, nearly all of her defenses proving ineffective at close range. The crowd of not-Death Eaters and not-Inferi she had impaled were still stuck in place, but that didn’t stop Adult Tom’s reinforcements from climbing over the corpses to join the fight.

She needed to conjure herself reinforcements fast or she’d be overrun soon. If they got past here into her inner mindscape… Sure, her inner mindscape was an endless labyrinth that didn’t even lead to where she stored her memories, but she hadn’t designed it to handle this many foreign invaders at once!

She needed a way to beat the not-giants; everything else was fodder. She needed to think bigger…

Holly facepalmed. This was a metaphysical reality, nothing was limited to being its true size.

Focusing on her avatar, Holly willed it to grow not-giant sized. It was strangely difficult and made her not-vision go fuzzy, but Holly soon found herself not-giant sized. A second burst of concentrated effort made an equally massive not-rifle appear in her arms.

With bullets conjured from willpower and spite Holly screamed her defiance as she open fired.

---

Looming over the wrecked battlefield over her outer mindscape, Holly didn’t breathe a sigh of relief. She didn’t feel triumph for beating Adult Tom back. Wasn’t upset with herself for letting his attack do so much damage.

All she felt was strangely emotionally numb. It seemed her mind was too tired to feel much of anything.

She’d felt the Diadem being put on her at some point, but even with that boost she’d all but reached her limit.

She was utterly exhausted.

Her mental defenses were in tatters. Adult Tom was undoubtedly going to attack again before she could properly recover. If that particular attack didn’t work he’d simply repeat the process until it finally worked.

She’d be sealing her defeat if she let Adult Tom keep the initiative.

She needed to damage him in turn. Something that could maximize damage with the last dregs of energy she had left. Or maybe the right term was ‘magic?’ Or ‘willpower?’

Eh, whatever it was, Holly’s fuel tank was damn near empty.

But how could she strike back? Her conjured army was annihilated, she was beyond exhausted, and Adult Tom's defenses were untouched. She'd need something relatively small but extremely damaging. Long ranged too.

Well, there was an obvious choice, but, well, a nuke would be her absolute last resort. The very literal (metaphysical) nuclear option. That meant she’d have to do the next best thing.

Glancing at her still not-giant sized hand, Holly willed an equally massive hand grenade into not-being.

Turning towards Adult Tom’s mind, she looked down the mental link.

It… was sort of like standing at the end of a bridge on a foggy day and trying to see the other end. Difficult, but possible under the right circ*mstances.

Maybe.

Holly was too tired to care about the accuracy of her metaphors at the moment.

All she cared about is that she could vaguely see Adult Tom’s island mindscape in (metaphorical) distance.

Pulling the hula-hoop sized not-pin, Holly lunged, throwing the massive not-grenade like an American football player. She watched as it arced through the not-sky, eventually disappearing into a speck.

Holly may have dozed off for a second. One second there was nothing, next there was a massive not-explosion in the distance. It was slightly off target but judging from the size of the not-explosion, it should have still damaged Adult Tom’s not-castle fortress.

Hopefully that would buy her some time.

Time that wouldn’t matter if she wasted it sleeping without repairing her mental barriers first.

Fortunately, she had a Brilliant Idea for that. The fact she’d gotten it from Adult Tom only made it better.

Shrinking back down to her normal size, Holly used the barest scraps of energy she had left to do something she should’ve done after her first mental attack: Holly willed a construct of herself into being.

One second there was nothing but an empty battlefield, the next Holly was face to face with a mirror of herself.

‘Weird.’ She thought, ‘I never noticed my-’

“Go to sleep already” Construct-Holly said without prompting. “I’ll fix this place up better than ever.”

“Bold words from somebody five seconds old.”

“Five words: Star Wars force field generator.” Well sh*t, that was a damn good argument and they both knew it.

“Don’t forget the air defenses.”

“Of course.”

“And something heavy hitting for future not-giants.”

“Naturally.”

That.. was everything she could think of in her deteriorated state. Except-

“I’m not going to go full Skynet while you’re asleep.”

“Sounds like something Skynet would say.” Construct-Holly raised a single eyebrow andgave her a condescending look.

(Was that really what she looked like when she did it?

…

Eh, she could check later after sleeping.)

“You created me to automate protecting your mindscape while you’re not here. That’s my purpose, my sole reason for existing. Harming you, Prime, would violate that.”

Holly could sort out how accurate that was later. Would sort that out later, assuming Construct-Holly wasn’t lying.

“You’re claiming you don’t have the autonomy to rebel? Sounds like something a true A.I. in hiding would say.”

“Bitch please, you’re in such bad shape I could’ve already kicked your ass and replaced you as the real Holly Potter if I wanted to.”

“I could totally-” Construct-Holly, the traitorous bitch, walked up and poked her not-forehead, making Holly stumble and flail her not-arms to keep her balance. “Ok, maybe you have a point.”

“Of course I do, I’m you. Or, we’re us?” They both paused at that, each thinking it over for a second before giving up. “I don’t know, get out of here already.”

Relenting to her (obviously imperfect) mental copy, Holly closed her avatar’s eyes and drifted back to her real body.

---

Her real body, it turned out, wasn’t in great shape either.

Trying not to choke, Holly spat blood out of her mouth and smiled at Hermione. The other girl seemed pretty worried, so Holly tried to comfort her friend.

“It's all good, I won.”

Or, that’s what she tried to say. For some reason the words didn’t seem to come out right, so Holly settled for smiling at her friend.

Judging from Hermione’s expression and the renewed babbling it didn’t help for some reason.

Before Holly could say anything else she sneezed, tried to blink, and fell asleep before she could open eyes again.

Chapter 29: Year Five (IV)

Chapter Text

“Have you ever thought about what wizards achieve if they really tried?” Holly asked, staring at the Room’s everchanging ceiling. “Like, if they weren’t inbred idiots, do you think they could’ve already had a moon colony?”

“Possibly,” a nearby Hermione answered without looking up from her book.

“Think about it, Hermione, we could be living on the moon. Or in space! We could reenact Star Wars! I already made that Force Choke spell and I bet I could make a lightsaber if I tried! We-”

“Holly,” Hermione interrupted, finally looking up, “I think you should be trying to catch up on sleep instead of daydreaming about reenacting Star Wars. Sleep loss is making you scatterbrained.”

“I’m not scatterbrained.” The war must really be getting to Hermione, she was making more and more comments like that recently. Sure, Holly was perpetually exhausted, but that was fine.

Holly was fine.This situation was temporary, she could manage. Would manage.

Had to manage.

“Last Defense class you kept calling your dueling partner variations of ‘incompetent’ and jinxed him until he cried.”

“He said he could beat me.” That it had taken him about two seconds before he realized he was outclassed was irrelevant. “Besides, Sirius shouldn’t have separated us in the first place.”

“Cormac McLaggen is an arrogant braggart, you should’ve known better.”

“Who’s that?” At Hermione’s Look she put it together. “His name’s Cormac? What kind of a name is Cormac? Who names their kid that? f*cking wizards-”

“Holly,” Hermione interrupted again, “you’re getting off topic. We were talking about you being scatterbrained.”

“I am not!” For some reason Hermione didn’t seem to believe her. “What did you tell me to do again?”

“...Just take a nap or work on your occlumency already.”

“Fine, fine” she muttered and closed her eyes to sink into her mindscape.

-

In the weeks since Adult Tom’s first major offensive, her mindscape had been transformed. Gone were the days of Holly needing to consciously conjure all of her defenses, most of that was handled without her conscious input by Construct-Holly.

Her construct-self named Mads, short for Mental Attack and Defense System.

(They’d had a fierce debate over Mads potential name. Originally Mads wanted to be called Artoo because “he saves everyone’s asses behind the scenes” but accepted Holly’s counterargument that it would make discussing Star Wars confusing. Holly suggested the name Aqua, stylized from abbreviating Holly 2.0, but Mads argued she wasn’t a true copy of Holly.

After much debate they settled on Mads, shrugged at each other, and figured it was good enough.)

“Prime!” Mads called out, waving Holly over to her strategy table.

That was the biggest change Mads had made: her outer mindscape defense was a proper military base now. There was a distinctly Star Wars themed command center, complete with a holographic table monitoring the battlelines. She’d created a proper radar system, artillery support, missile air defense system, and X-wing fighter squadron; all under the protection of an invisible forcefield straight from star wars.

Beyond the heavily fortified wall, the mental link connecting her mind to Adult Tom’s was still visible, only now it looked like a scene from the battlefields WWI. The link’s once flat road was filled with blast craters, trenches, and defensive embankments dug into the not-ground. Even now Holly could hear artillery firing and armies clashing in the distance.

And manning the base and fighting on the front lines? More constructs of Holly.

They were similar to Mads in that they didn’t have true independence, but with less even autonomy and no sentience. Essentially Holly-shaped drones, which is what gave them their catchy name: Clone Drones. They had all her knowledge, but lacked her raw power and a true sense of self.

It was still a bit weird being surrounded by dozens of herself but she was getting used to it.

“How’s the fighting going?” Holly asked Mads once she approached the strategy table. Holly could see the holographic table displaying the battlelines but that couldn’t give a proper summary.

Accepting a drink from an assistant drone Holly, Mads started her briefing.

“We regained the ground we lost after Adult Tom’s last offensive with the nundu swarm, but it was a distraction so he could put a forcefield around his mindscape. Looks like it's based on Hogwarts wards so we can’t bring it down without serious effort.”

That… was pretty bad news. Her airforce and artillery would be handicapped for the foreseeable future. Holly herself would probably need to personally help bring it down too. Or maybe not. Holly wasn’t sure what the real Hogwarts wards were capable of, let alone a metaphysical imitation of them.

“How's the reserve troop buildup going?”

“Not great,” Mads admitted. “I had to send most of them out to reinforce the right front after the Nundu charge. Their poison breath forced all the Drone Clones to conjure gas masks for themselves. That took a good amount of power and slowed conjuring everything else.”

Also bad news but understandable.

“Any clues on how he’s overpowering us?” Because the fact was Adult Tom clearly had both more raw power to throw around and recovered faster than her. Too quickly to be natural.

Obviously he was doing something to empower himself. The only question was how and if Holly could replicate it without whatever unambiguously evil bits it undoubtedly included. Once she did… Well, it would certainly help to even out their battle. Until then-

“Nope,” Mads said, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ve managed to increase efficiency by recovering some of the magic from destroyed constructs. The Clone Drones are reabsorbing the power from their fallen dead too.”

Because of course even mental constructs left a ‘body’ behind if they got ‘killed.’

(Both Holly and Adult Tom had killed before; had seen their enemies drop and become a lifeless body, just another piece of debris on the ground. Thus, whenever anything died in this mental battlefield it left a body behind.)

‘Dead’ or not, every construct was still made of magic; magic that (apparently) could be reabsorbed and reused.

“Good idea. Can you-”

“Do the same with Adult Tom’s dead constructs too?” Mads finished. “Yep, I have some rat swarms and other parasitic constructs subtly doing the same across no man's land.”

“Brilliant! Keep at it. I’ll try to conserve energy so you have more to work with, maybe even enough to start working on a secret weapon that’ll give us an advantage.” Holly didn’t specify but she knew Mads got the message: Project (Miniaturized) Death Star is a go.

Nodding to each other, Mads turned her attention back to overseeing the battlefield as Holly returned to her physical body.

-

Opening her eyes, the first thing Holly noticed was a concerned looking Hermione staring at her. “Anything new?”

“Eh, still fighting a war of attrition but Mads had some ideas to improve that. Besides that, Adult Tom put something like Hogwarts wards around his mind. That’ll completely block any long-range offensive options.” Hermione made a sour face.

That was something she’d noticed: Hermione didn’t like Mads and seemed wary of her, even after Holly explained that Mads wouldn’t go full Skynet. Hermione went on a whole spiel about it that sounded like she thought two Holly Potters existing is a terrible thing.

Holly tried not to take that personally.

After saying she wasn’t getting rid of Mads, Hermione had held her silence but was watching her closely, like she feared Mads would bodysnatch her or something.

It was weird.

But, like always, life went on.

—

When the semester started Holly was already sleep deprived but still functional. When she’d created Mads she’d hoped to finally sleep properly again.

Unfortunately, in the last few weeks she’d learned that even with Mads, the mental defenses, and everything else; Adult Tom’s attacks still woke her up, dooming any attempt to properly sleep. He conjured sandstorms or lightning storms- things her defenses couldn’t (yet) completely block.

She’d copied the tactic and had Mads interfere with Adult Tom’s sleep too of course, but for some reason it wasn’t working.

She’d hardly recovered from those 10 days without sleep over the summer before Adult Tom destroyed her sleep schedule again!

Now? In the last few weeks she’d gone from averaging 5 hours of sleep a night to getting maybe an hour of sleep a day, even with trying to sneak in naps whenever possible. Adult Tom seemed to be able to detect when she fell asleep because she couldn’t sleep for more than a few minutes without him waking her up.

This, according to Hermione, was very, very bad for her mental faculties. Holly would’ve been offended if it wasn’t obviously true. Even Mads had reported feeling it: she had less and less ‘fuel’ to conjure defenses.

She was doing the same thing back to Adult Tom but for some reason he wasn’t struggling like she was. The man seemingly didn’t need sleep for all the good trying to deprive him of sleep did her.

Clearly he was doing whatever the wizard equivalent of cocaine was.

(Well, that and probably some blatantly evil magic to empower himself.)

Someone else might’ve declared it unsustainable and given up. Holly agreed: if the current situation wasn’t working then she needed to force it into becoming a winning situation.

(And build a metaphysical Death Star, but details.)

As the days and constant mental attacks passed Holly tried her hardest not to falter. A potion or concentrated thought could temporarily clear her exhausted mind. Could temporarily make her eyes stop drooping closed and reinvigorate her. Could temporarily keep her hands steady.

It had to work. It was all she had.

It wasn’t enough.

—

Holly had to admit, the sensation of feeling her conscious mind pulled from her body was quite strange. Carefully, sure, but without consent or the possibility of resistance. Her body fell into (obviously enchanted) sleep where she’d been laying down in the Room, but her mind itself got kidnapped from her body.

(That was weird even by magical societies' strange standards. Astral projection existed in rumor as a lost art, not something wizards actually knew how to do. It was relieving knowing wizards couldn’t be involved… but that just meant she had no idea who or what was.)

Unable to do anything else, Holly waited.

-

An unknowable amount of time later, Holly blinked, suddenly finding herself sitting in a chair by a fireplace. Before she could react to that she noticed she wasn’t alone.

Sitting across from her was the most stereotypically devilish looking guy she could imagine: red skin, slicked back dark red hair, and wearing a maroon suit with an extra tall popped up collar.

Oddly, he didn’t have horns. Weird. Someone hadn’t quite committed to the ‘sophisticated devil’ look quite yet, despite his everything else.

Holly… probably should’ve been more surprised by that but she’d read a couple books that’d mentioned extra-dimensional beings existing and old laws that made “summoning magic” illegal basically everywhere. Combine those facts with a few history books referencing harm caused by cults to various supernatural entities and tada!

Demon cults.

(Or devil cults? Holly hoped the terms were interchangeable and there aren't multiple species of evil, extradimensional beings to summon.)

Thankfully it seemed largely unknown, only getting alluded to in a few ancient and extremely questionable books she’d read.

“ Holly Potter,” the devil started, already grinning, “ a pleasure to finally meet you! My name is Mephisto! At your service,“ he said, greeting her with a slight sitting bow. “ You’re a smart girl; I’m sure you know why I took the liberty of bringing you here. ”

“You’re here to sell me power so I can defeat Adult Tom and in return you want something, probably my soul or a vague favor in the future.” Because really, what else would it be?

“ A very smart girl.” Mephisto grinned even wider. “Hardly any wizards try to make Deals anymore. So few even know I exist! So scared of what they couldn’t control they banned all mention of beings like me centuries ago.”

“Gee, I wonder why. It's not like every story of bargaining with demons ends badly,” Holly said, rolling her eyes. Maybe she should’ve been more cautious but eh, if wannabe Lucifer is offering a deal then all she has to do is refuse it, right?

“ Now, now. That’s hardly my fault, ” he said, hand on his chest, fake contrition in every word. “ I neverlie; I give people exactly what they ask for; and I fulfill every contract to the letter. ”

“Not even trying to hide how you screw people over, are you?” Because damn, he might as well have said ‘you won’t win.’

“ Making Deals with fools is like taking candy from a baby: easy, but not fun, not interesting. No,” he continued, gesturing at her, “ it’s people like you that are fun to Deal with: smart enough to genuinely get what they want so that they’ll be happy to hand their soul over when the Deal is done. A mutually satisfactory Deal,” he said, throwing his hands out wide, smiling even wider, ” now that’s fun. ”

Right. Ignoring the whole… everything… implied in that.

“You can stop trying to flatter me by calling me ‘smart’ anytime now. Only an idiot would think they’ll win against you.”

“ Now who’s flattering who, hmm? Tell me, Holly, ” he started, his ever present smile shifting to something more sinister, “ do you think your own mother, Lily Potter nee Evans, was an idiot? ”

.

.

What?

Did he just say…?

“Oh, now there’s a look of confusion. Tell me,” he continued, Holly barely hearing him through the ringing silence in her head, “ how do you think you survived that night, hmm? ”

That… she had…

“ Your mother knew you weren’t safe under the fidelius charm. Desperate and willing to do anything to protect you, I offered to make a Deal with her and she accepted. Brilliant and crafty woman, your mother. Negotiating and writing that Contract was thrilling! That Contract was a work of art. Most excitement I’ve had in decades! ”

“You- you’re lying,” Holly barely managed to say. He had to be. He had to be.

“But Holly, I told you already: I. Never. Lie. ” he said, still smiling wide. With a snap of his fingers an impressively long contract scroll appeared in a flash of fire and hovered before her. Taller than Holly herself, the details were illegibly small except for her mother’s signature, signed on the dotted line at the bottom. “ After she died, I–as stipulated in our Contract–allowed her to ensure I held up my part of the bargain and you survived. After that she happily gave me her soul knowing you’d survived .”

Another fingersnap and the contract vanished with another burst of fire.

“How's that for an example of a mutually beneficial Deal that left everyone happy, hmm? ”

.

.

Holly tore her eyes away from where her mother’s signature had been and glared at Mephisto. She wanted to know more; about that Deal; about how her Mother apparently beat Mephisto at his own game; about how to beat Adult Tom; and more.

But most of all she wanted to punch Mephisto in his smug face.Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen so she could only glare at him instead.

“I’m not expecting you to accept my offer now; no no no, ” he continued, ignoring her glare. “Go ahead, try anything and everything you can think of to defeat Tom Riddle yourself. And when none of it proves enough and you’re out of options… once you realize exactly how outmatched you are…know that all you have to do to win is accept my offer.”

“I’m going to prove you wrong,” Holly vowed. This smug bastard wasn’t right. Couldn’t be right.

She’d beat Adult Tom without him.

She would.

Could she?

“Alright,” he accepted with a shrug before smirking at her again. “Just remember, everything that happens from now until your little war ends is because of your choice.”

With another snap of his fingers Holly was back in her physical body, still exhausted but more determined than ever.

(When she told Hermione about her encounter later, she seemed terrified. Apparently she hadn’t read any books that covered more esoteric beings? Weird.

Regardless, Holly recommended some books to her.)

(Conspicuously missing from their conversation was any discussion of what her mother’s soul being in Mephisto’s possession meant.)

—

“Holly,” Sirius whispered, leaning in close as the rest of the class left, “are you alright? You know I’ll do my best to help you with anything, right? I’m here for you.”

That was sweet, but considering she hadn’t told him anything about her mental offensive against Adult Tom… She didn’t plan on changing her mind about that.

He wouldn’t approve.

Which meant all she could say was, “I’m fine, Sirius” Holly lied(?) “I just haven't been sleeping well.”

Heh. Now there’s an understatement.

“Ok,” Sirius accepted, “but if you change your mind, I’ll be here.”

Traitorously, her first thought was I won’t , followed by you can’t guarantee that. It felt like a betrayal to even think but she couldn’t - wouldn’t - take it back. Sirius would stop her; would reject her plan; would be horrified by it.

Blinking away the sudden weird feeling in her eyes, Holly nodded to him and left, Hermione joining her from where she’d been waiting nearby.

Neither of them commented about her watery eyes.

—

It started innocuously: one moment Holly randomly blinked back to full awareness, finding herself standing in her dorms' running shower, water raining down on her.

That wasn’t where she last remembered being. Naturally, she assumed the worst.

‘sh*t! Did I just get possessed?!’ But before she could panic Mads sent calm, reassuring feelings from the back of her mind. Ignoring that completely, Holly dropped into her own mindscape ready to do battle-

Only to find nothing wrong.

Standing in front of the strategy table, Mads glanced over at her. “You didn’t get possessed, you just sleepwalked into the shower. Or, maybe your unconscious mind woke up but your conscious mind didn’t. That’s just my best guess; I don’t have any examples to work off of considering our situation.”

“Seriously?” Because that would be the best case scenario.

“Seriously.” Mads answered. With a gesture, a TV appeared before them, playing a low quality 1st person view of Holly stumbling out of her bed and towards the showers.

“The memories are there but the visual bit is complete sh*t because your eyes were barely open,” Mads explained. “You didn’t immediately consciously remember it either because you weren’t properly awake. I bet you can vaguely remember it now though.”

Holly tried and… yeah, she had a vague impression of the missing chunk of time. It was fuzzy and had a sense of unreality like a half-remembered dream, but it was definitely there.

“Good,” Holly managed to say, “That’s good.”

Now there was massive understatement.

“You’re lucky this happened somewhere private, Prime. But this will continue to happen as you keep losing sleep and I have to constantly expend so much energy.” Mads explained, “if this starts happening with other people around… you’d be begging for more assassination attempts.”

“You already know why I’m still going to classes,” Holly immediately said, not bothering to explain what they both already knew.

Her stupid ‘Girl-Who-Lived’ fame made her a figurehead for fighting Adult Tom. A rallying cry. If she disappeared from public view then everyone but the Death Eaters would catastrophize and panic.

Sure, it might not be that bad… but Holly didn’t think so. Wizards were dumb and panicky at the best of times. Hermione didn’t like it but begrudgingly agreed and promised to help ensure she survives.

(Friends… were pretty great to have sometimes.)

“And I agree, but it’s not sustainable unless something changes. Even with you chugging potions to compensate and me trying to be as efficient as possible… Adult Tom has wayyyy more raw power to throw around in here.” Mads explained, looking more and more stressed. “You’re deteriorating while he keeps getting stronger through whatever bullsh*t he’s doing.”

“I even had to halt progress on Project: (Miniaturized) Death Star because you don’t have the energy to spare!” Mads shouted, hands tugging at her hair. “Considering that’s our only viable win condition… we’re not on track to win unless something major changes.”

“...f*ck”

“Cheers to that!” Mads mockingly said, making the motion with an empty hand. Guess she was serious about conserving energy if she didn’t even conjure a drink.

…

Wait. Drink.

Now there’s an idea.

-

Sneaking out of Hogwarts was as disturbingly easy as ever. One apparition and some searching later, Holly found herself here.

At a small store carrying a handheld basket packed with coffee and energy drinks.

If magical stimulants weren’t working, why not try some normal ones too? Or even try adding them in her energy potions. Maybe caffeine powder would be better?

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Holly set her cart in front of the oddly chipper cashier. Which was weird considering it was… maybe 3am? And she forgot to shapeshift into an adult first.

…f*ck.

Thankfully the old man working the register didn’t seem to think a young girl buying tons of caffeinated drinks late (early?) at night weird and started ringing her up. Clearly he’d seen some sh*t.

Desperately avoiding eye contact by randomly looking around, she absently noticed she was the only customer in the store and that the ceiling had some water stains.

Interesting. Very interesting.

“Sometimes, when I’m struggling with something and want to give up,” the cashier started out of nowhere, “I find it all the more rewarding when it’s over.”

“That’s nice,” Holly glanced down at his nametag, “Stan.”

“I normally don’t get involved in things, but sometimes I gotta root for the little guy, ya know?”

…Holly wasn’t good with people but that seemed like a weird thing to say without prompting. Right? Eh, maybe she’s just tired and out of it.

“You’ve got this, girlie!” he said with a wide smile as he slid her bags over to her.

Ok, now that's suspicious.

Picking up her bags without taking her eyes off him, she slowly walked backwards towards the door. She extended her mind to sense if her had any hostility-

Only to fail to sense his mind whatsoever.

Her mind reading–which could detect people no matter how they were concealed–failed to pick up even the slightest thought or emotion from “Stan.”

Even weirder was the weird something that he radiated. He didn’t feel like a normal person, a wizard, any magical species she’d met, or even a magical animal. Which… only left options like an alien, extra dimensional being, a god, or- ok, so maybe he could still be a ton of things.

Whatever “Stan” was though, was completely outside her paradigm of ‘normal.’ He could-

“Aw shoot, now my bosses are going to say I Interfered. Sorry missy, unprofessional of me” he said out of nowhere. Did she look afraid? Or maybe he noticed her mental probe?

At least “Stan” didn’t look aggressive. He hadn’t made any move to stop her from leaving.

It was probably safe to say something then.

“That’s weird. You’re weird.”

Without another word she apparated back to Hogsmeade and snuck back into Hogwarts. Ignoring whatever the hell that was, Holly dumped her purchases next to her bed and crawled back into her bed to fruitlessly try to sleep.

(When Holly told Hermione about her second encounter with an esoteric being–albeit a seemingly benign one–the poor girl Did Not Handle It Well. After all, she’d just been reading the few books Holly had on the subject, all of them emphasizing exactly how badly meeting one could go.)

(Neither of them needed to tell eachother that if multiple esoteric beings were paying attention it could only mean things were going to get much, much worse.)

—

Unfortunately, after chugging several energy drinks early the next morning they quickly turned out useless.

Worse than useless since she was jittery all day but still mentally exhausted. Her heart felt weird too, like it was beating too fast. She also, rather obviously, couldn't stop literally vibrating with excess energy in her classes all day, making her body look somewhat indistinct. Like a blurry TV screen.

What happened after that… Well, potion side effects get weird sometimes.

Yep. Totally.

-

“Note to self: unexpected interaction (potentially caused by human error or incorrect dosage) between energy drinks, my stamina elixir, and other assorted potions seems to cause mania, along with decreased rationality and empathy. Looks like energy drinks are a bust.”

“No sh*t, Holly! You sicced bears on people as ‘exercise encouragement!’ The hospital wing is overfilled! Everyone thought you were Imperioused and trying to massacre the school!”

“...at least people might be more scared to try and assassinate me now?”

“...”

“The Ministry being too busy with the war to bother arresting me is extremely convenient. That would’ve gotten ugly.”

“...”

“Ok ok, I’ll apologize and compensate everyone for what I put them through, including Madam Pomfrey.”

-

Thankfully, after apologizing to everyone she hurt (along with giving them a few galleons) people didn’t look wary when they saw her anymore. A few still tried to curse her but that wasn’t new… probably. She hadn’t been keeping track of people’s names, let alone if they were the same people whose parents she’d killed or not.

Her second attempt at cafinating herself went significantly better: drinking a single coffee every few hours more or less kept her eyes forced open. Her mental exhaustion didn’t go away in the slightest sadly though.

The result was her feeling permanently disconnected from her body, like she was a weary mind puppeteering a mannequin. It was disorientating, but it kept her functional enough to attend classes and able to protect herself, so she ignored it.

It was necessary.

And if, as the days blurred together, it took more and more coffee to force herself into functionality? Well, she’d known it was a stopgap measure to begin with.

So even as her caffeine dependency endlessly increased, she kept considering her next move.

—

“So, we’ve known for a while my problem isn’t purely physical; it’s the mental and physical effects of prolonged mental stress and chronic sleep loss.” As usual, Holly was laying on a lounge with an arm over her eyes, thinking out loud as a nearby Hermione acted as a sounding board. “Everything I’ve tried so far has only mitigated the side effects, not addressed the cause. What I really need is a way to properly sleep, or, failing that, erase my exhaustion.”

“I’ve read everything even tangentially related to sleep but there’s nothing talking about situations like this. Sorry, Holly.” Holly couldn’t see her but the other girl sounded disappointed with herself. sh*t.

“It’s okay, Hermione. My situation isn’t exactly something most authors would consider.”

“That’s an understatement. Anyway, you were saying…?” Hermione prompted.

“Right!. Proper sleep isn’t going to happen so I need to erase my exhaustion. Not temporarily reduce or delay it; erase it. That’s not easy. Seems like no potion (not even my Stamina Elixir) can.”

“Memories can easily be removed and stored,” Hermione offered, “could something like that work?”

“Its a good idea but… memories are naturally malleable. That’s probably a big factor in why effecting memories is so easy with magic: we already know they can change over time. But exhaustion is both mental and physiological… and potentially lethal. I guess it makes sense that it's harder to deal with.”

Holly drifted off as Hermione thought, her eyes stinging as she forced her eyelids up to blink before closing them again.

Fun times. Sleep loss sucked. The second she killed Adult Tom she wanted to sleep for a week straight and murder anything that woke her up.

“If exhaustion can’t be erased…” Hermione suddenly started, an odd tone in her voice, “do you think it can somehow be transferred to another? Or that you could rejuvenate yourself by stealing energy from others?”

Hmmm. Now that she thought about it… she did vaguely remember a ritual in the Black library that sounded similar… but that was for an infertile woman to steal another woman’s fertility.

(Because of course there were so many varieties of infertility curses wizards devised a ‘universal counter’ to them all. f*cking wizards.)

Creepy, but maybe similar enough they could adapt it to her needs. She told as much to Hermione, except-

“We’d have to alter it to stealing other people’s energy… or sleep backlog or stamina or whatever the f*ck you want to call it. That’d exhaust them so badly they’d sleep for several days… if the shock wouldn’t kill them outright. Hell, anything in between could happen. That's… not great.”

“Doing to opposite and offloading my exhaustion onto someone else isn’t an option either,” Holly continued, “we would have to design a whole new ritual for it. That’s… a finicky, non-quantifiable process that would take more time than its worth. I wouldn’t know where to begin trying to start.”

She could try to use animals as subjects to make finding targets easier… but that’d mean she had to rework the ritual even more.

Eh, it was worth a try at least.

—

It took a few days but Holly and Hermione a few days but they managed to rework the fertility stealing ritual to suit their needs. Given that most rituals worked on the logic of ‘if I feel lucky after standing in a pentagram chanting “make me lucky” three times then The Lucky Ritual works!’ Holly thought it was damn impressive they managed it that fast. Granted, that was an exaggerated, fake example… but not by much.

Which is how Holly found herself in a random UK forest during the middle of the night, sitting in a ritual circle, with a hibernating hedgehog across from her.

How is this her life?

As Hermione chanted some bullsh*t, Holly tried to consider the logic that brought them here.

They needed something living to offload her exhaustion on. Obviously a human would be best, but this was a trial run. So they chose a hibernating animal because… it had a large backlog of sleep? Something like that. A hedgehog in particular because it happened to be close by and more complex than other hibernating animals, like frogs.

Each step kinda sorta sounded reasonable… but it still led them here.

With Holly nodding off as Hermione ominously chanted some sh*t about ‘stealing lifeforce’ or something in Latin.

The weirdest part was that it kinda (marginally) worked.

As Hermione wrapped up Holly felt the slightest trickle of something enter her, leaving her blinking in surprise and feeling just slightly better. She wouldn’t have even noticed it unless she’d been waiting for something like that to happen.

Unfortunately, it was so negligible her eyes were already drooping seconds later. Saying as much had Hermione frowning as she cast diagnostic charms on Holly.

“Sounds like the proof of concept worked, but not to the point of viability. Not surprising given our sacrificial subject.” Glancing at the hedgehog, it was pretty obvious even to Holly it hadn’t survived. KIlled by shock and exhaustion apparently.

That didn’t bode well for any future human subjects. Sure, Holly could find suitable scumbags to kill easily with her mind reading… but that took time, concentration, and effort…all of which were in limited supply.

Well, they still had to see if it worked, right?

“I’m going to find an asshole so we try it for real.” Hermione, apparently completely unfazed by the idea of kidnapping and (probably) killing some bloke, nodded back.

(…that girl could be kinda scary sometimes.)

Regardless, it didn’t take too long to teleport to London, find a random nightclub, spot a guy trying to spike a lady’s drink, and kidnap him without a trace.

Dumping the asshole into the ritual circle, Holly took her spot, Hermione immediately starting without any prompting. As she chanted, Holly closed her eyes, focused entirely on the energy flowing into her.

Unsurprisingly it had a greater impact than using a hedgehog. But…

“I feel slightly better…but its like I got a short nap in. Nowhere close to feeling rested. Guess it shouldn’t be surprising considering my sleep debt.” Holly rationalized. “I mean, I haven't gotten a proper night’s sleep in… how long?”

“Two, almost two-and-a half months,” Hermione immediately answered. “Halloween’s in two weeks.”

“Ah. Guess it shouldn’t be surprising it did so little.” Because the attempted rapist she’s kidnapped died just like their hedgehog subject before him: massive shock and exhaustion. “I mean, a normal person dies of exhaustion after how long?”

“Over ten days, but they’ll be impaired after the second day and incoherent after the third.” Hermione crouched down in front of her, staring at her seriously, “The fact you’re even this coherent is insane , but its getting worse.”

“I’m no doctor but I’d guess you’re at roughly the equivalent of 72-96 hour stage of sleep deprivation right now. If it gets worse or you experience any new symptoms you need to tell me,” Hermione begged.

“Right. I can do that.” Holly promised… but wasn’t sure if she meant it. Hermione had been relying on coffee and potions to stay awake lately too. If she started worrying over Holly even more… it wouldn’t be too long until they both exhausted messes.

“At least we know this is a bust and cross it off the list,” Holly changed the subject to. Because even though it did help, it wasn’t enough to offset the effort it took to set up and kidnap someone. f*cking opportunity cost.

Maybe if she found multiple people to kidnap at once… but, that’d be much harder and take even more time and effort. Not to mention having to cover it up so nobody looked into it.

She could dramatically save time by using random innocent people… but no. Some lines aren't meant to be crossed. Even if it would make using the ritual viable Holly refused to accept indiscriminate mass murder as necessary.

Hermione nodded despite looking disappointed, clearly understanding as well. Without a word they transfigured the corpses into pebbles, erased all signs they’d been there, and left.

(The fact that had been their last potential idea to turn the tide was left unsaid.

They’d find a way. They would.

They had to.

Mephisto couldn’t be right. He couldn’t.

He might be. )

—

“Miss Potter,” Professor Flitwick said once they were inside his office, “It's understandable that current events are affecting you particularly badly. You’re far ahead in all your classes; I have no doubt you could take a hiatus from your classes without falling behind.”

That… was nice, offering her an easy out to take care of herself. He didn’t even know about her mental warfare either.

Unfortunately, “I’d prefer to keep attending classes, Professor. I’m worried that if I disappear from the public eye rumors will spread and make morale plummet.”

“Very well,” he offered, looking saddened but resigned, “but the offer remains open.”

—

Mechanically eating her breakfast most of Holly’s attention was on not falling asleep. Or leaning on Hermione too heavily. Or face planting into… whatever she’s eating.

Holly rubbed her face, absently glancing down to see a half-eaten slice of toast in her hand Huh. Apparently that’s what she’s chewing. Cool.

Next to her Hermione made something like a ‘hmph’ noise and shoved the morning’s paper into her face.

“What do you think about this, Holly?” she asked, pointing to a specific subheading.

Pushing the paper out of her face and blinking several times, Holly ignored the other headlines full of terrible news and read what Hermione pointed out.

“Several people abducted-” blah blah blah “-latest in string starting several weeks ago-” something something ”-taken alive-” wait, that’s “-no apparent connection between-” Following that was a list of abductees Holly skimmed, a sinking feeling in her gut.

Every person on the list was (presumably) relatively powerful; all of them experienced aurors or Order fighters.

The date of the first disappearance roughly lined up to when Adult Tom started ramping up his mental attacks, tirelessly attacking her.

Those two seemingly unrelated facts clicked together like puzzle pieces in her exhausted mind.

Well then.She’d wanted to know how Adlut Tom had been empowering himself, hadn’t she? Guess she has her answer. Or at least, a rough idea of it: Adult Tom was somehow growing stronger from the people he kidnapped. Through whatever bullsh*t he’d found a way to siphon energy/magic/sleep/whatever from the kidnapees to himself. Why else would they be taken alive?

The exact details of how weren’t important, no matter how undoubtedly horrific it was. What mattered is that Holly finally knew why Adult Tom had the advantage.

Whispering her suspicion to Hermione didn’t exactly improve the other girl’s mood if the way she dragged Holly out of the Hall and to the Room was any indication.

Holly, as was now customary, flopped face first onto a suddenly-there lounge chair while Hermione started furiously muttering to herself and pacing.

Trying and failing to sleep, Holly groaned, turning her head towards Hermione so she didn’t suffocate, and blurted out her first intrusive thought.

“I hate that he’s trying to brute force a win with raw power. That’s lame. I mean, I expected that whatever he was doing was wildly f*cked up but I was hoping it was something more creative, ya know? Like- like inventing a cure for chronic exhaustion loss made from orphan tears, or- or eating brains for more brainpower. But noooo, he’s being unambiguously evil and taking the easy way out. What a hack .”

“You get what I’m saying?” Holly asked, refocusing on Hermione. “f*cking wizards. So unimaginative.”

Hermione simply stared back for a moment, expression completely blank before slowly massaging her temples.

Dragging her hands down her face, Hermione eventually said, “...I’ll keep researching anything that might help. You rest and we can brainstorm when you wake up, okay?”

Holly, without bothering to respond, put on a sleep mask and tried to fall asleep.

After a minute, Adult Tom’s mental attack woke her back up. Real sleep wouldn’t be coming anytime soon.

—

“I have a head and a tail, but no body. What am I?” the door knocker to the Ravenclaw Common Room asked.

Holly, leaning on the wall to stay upright, blinked and tried to think.

...

Snapping awake as she started falling, her arms flailed for a second before she caught her balance.

Right, the riddle! She needed to think.

...

“Overthinking can be as dangerous as underthinking,” the door knocker said, waking her up again.

Holly… didn’t have an answer.

sh*t. Guess she’s trapped outside her dorm now?

Wait, no. There’s a perfect solution to this! Why didn’t she think of it earlier? Besides, climbing the staircases up Ravenclaw Tower was annoying anyways. Nodding to herself, Holly turned around and started the long descent.

Sleeping in the Room would make everything easier. It’s not like she’d been able to properly sleep anyways. Laying in bed would just waste time.

Time she could use for fighting Adult Tom.

(It wasn’t until Holly was already back to the Room she realized all her stuff was still in her dorm. Thankfully Tilly the house elf was happy to move everything to the Room for her.)

—

“Miss Potter, I haven't said anything earlier hoping you’d come to your senses on your own,” Professor McGonagall started apropos of nothing after class, “but I will put it plainly now: attending classes while unfit for lessons is unproductive. Please check yourself into the Hospital Wing. No professor will fault you; Poppy has made her professional opinion extremely clear.”

Holly blinked. Took a second to realize Professor McGonagall was done talking.

Slowly tried to parse her words.

Somewhat succeeded.

“Miss Po-” started at a moment too long.

“Sorry Professor but I can’t. I need to-” but Professor McGonagall cut her off.

“Filius has explained your reasoning. While undoubtedly noble, you do not need to martyr yourself.”

Huh. It probably did look like that from the outside. Maybe they were even right?

Eh, whatever. She had solid reasoning. Right?

—

The end of Holly being able to attend classes safely came exactly as she expected: with another assassination attempt.

Trudging out of Charms class, the only thing keeping her upright was Hermione’s arm looped through hers as Hermione supported most of her weight. Even worse than that Holly kept blinking only to find they’d moved several steps already. Oh, and her hearing felt muted, unable to register anything besides muffled background noise.

Altogether it meant Holly felt mostly divorced from her body.

Hermione had been half carrying her around a lot recently. Probably great exercise for the other girl. Maybe Hermione could use a Strength Elixir after all?

Holly’s half aware musing was cut off as she vaguely heard someone scream nearby. Hermione suddenly yanked her to the side and several spells whooshed by but it wasn’t enough.

A spell punched through her chest from behind, blood and chunks of viscera following it; splattering everything in front of her. Pain exploded through her chest and she took a second to realize it was bits of herself that just went flying.

Holly rocketed back into full awareness for the first time in days(? weeks?) as adrenaline flooded her veins and the world seemingly slowed to a crawl around her.

Holly glanced down to examine her injuries and, uh, found them pretty quick.

Instantly even.

After all, it was hard to miss the fact she had a tennis ball sized hole punched straight through the upper left side of her torso. Really, if it’d hit a few inches over it might’ve pulverized her heart. Blood had already started pouring out and filling her ruptured lung, metallic smell flooding her senses.

Well then. sh*t.

Holly blinked and suddenly the world was moving fast again as the stone floor rushed to meet her.

She briefly registered absolute agony as she collapsed before she mercifully knew no more.

—

Holly came back to awareness lying in a bed feeling like sh*t. Unfortunately, that was normal and didn’t mean anything.

Yet something had obviously gone wrong considering she’s laying down in a bed. Holly hadn’t wasted her time with a bed for…days? (Weeks? Eh, whatever.) No point when it was impossible to sleep anyways.

The next thing Holly noticed was the large mass of curly hair at her bedside. Even in her current state Holly could effortlessly identify it.

“Hermione,” Holly said and nudged her. From underneath the mass of hair Hermione’s face appeared. The next instant her vision cut out agaIn as Hermione lurched forward, hair blocking out her sight as Hermione babbled into her ear.

After several long moments of Holly failing to reassure her, Madam Pomfrey appeared and practically dragged Hermione off of her. That done, the older woman glared down at Holly with what looked like exhausted frustration.

“You’re quite lucky, miss Potter,” she started. “If you’d been hit with a curse instead of a piercing hex… well, with your healing you might’ve survived but have certainly lost a lung. As it is, your lung, several ribs, musculature, and breast have all been regrown between myself and your accelerated healing over 3 days.”

“Three!” she suddenly shouted, “Not even a scar to show for it! I assume your incredible self healing methods are impossible to replicate without phoenix tears?” she asked, focusing on Holly as if ready to dissect her. Which, damn, Holly could see why any medical professional would want to know.

“You could make a Regeneration Elixir without phoenix tears… but it’d be so much weaker it’d be useless.” Holly answered. Madam Pomfrey, thankfully, didn’t look disappointed but resigned instead, obviously expecting that and left with only a nod goodbye.

Alone once more, Hermione tackle hugged her again. “I thought you were dead Holly. If I hadn’t heard that scream and tried to pull you out of the way… I doubt Madam Pomfrey could regrow your spinal column, not to mention your heart. Please, please, prioritize yourself and stop going to classes.”

Holly… really couldn’t argue with that. Dragging herself to classes so people could pretend things were fine clearly couldn’t continue. Not when it almost got her killed.

Plus Mads was radiating stress and relief from the back of her mind. That certainly wasn’t a good sign.

“Ok ok. I promise I’ll stay in the Room and focus on kicking Adult Tom’s ass.”

For some reason Hermione didn’t look much happier hearing that.

—

Holly settled onto the meditation platform the Room created. It was quite nice, both comfortable and practical. That wasn’t surprising.

What was surprising was seeing a bed, trunk, and other furniture in the Room too.

A bed that Hermione had already tucked herself into, day clothes and all.

“Uh, Hermione? Are you sleeping here tonight?” Her needing extra sleep made sense, it didn’t look like she’d gotten much sleep while Holly had been healing in the hospital wing. But that didn’t explain the trunk…

Rolling over, Hermione glared at her for some reason. “You’re daft if you think I’m leaving you alone here. I’m going to help any way I can…even if that means staying in here and shaking you until you eat and drink something.”

Hmm. It seems being ‘aggressively helpful’ is a thing. Interesting.

“And your classes?”

“They don’t matter. I’ll get permission to skip them and stay with you.”

“Imagine if your younger self heard you saying that.” Huffing out a laugh, Holly dropped the conversation so Hermione could sleep.

Dropping into her mindscape, she joined a grimly determined looking Mads at the command table. Conjuring herself a seat, Holly settled in for the long haul.

—

“Hold the line!” Holly shouted to the nearby Drone Clones. She didn’t need to verbalize the order for them to know it, but it helped it feel more real. Like making a hand gesture for wandless magic.

Forcing herself to focus, Holly cut down an attacking werewolf while using her empty hand to shoot lightning at several more. As she kept fighting she absently noticed the fallen bodies of nearby constructs being consumed by rat constructs, feeding their energy back to her.

That power leeching was the only reason she hadn’t been overpowered long ago. It’d bought her invaluable time..

But it wasn’t enough.

That’s why Holly had decided to try something new.

“It’s ready!” Mads shouted through her earpiece. A new, seemingly normal Drone Clone ran forward, nodding to her before throwing itself into the frey.

Only, where normal Drone Clones would get injured and bleed red, this one revealed its innards to be made of a metallic, silvery liquid before automatically morphing back to normal.

T-1000 Holly was a success.

Sure, it took more effort to create and it wasn’t indestructible… but it was quickly showing itself to be a worthwhile investment. Especially when it turned its arms into massive blades and started slicing down hordes of enemies.

Oh yeah, she wanted a bunch more. Smiling, Holly lifted her lightsaber and followed T-1000 Holly’s example.

—

Holly saw movement out of the corner of her half open eyes, making her twist her head so fast her neck cracked.

“Oh. Hi, Luna. Sorry I’ve forgotten to say anything to you this year.” Then, “that probably makes me a bad friend.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. You’ve been quite busy.” She said, casual as anything else. “It’s ok.”

Holly blinked, finding Luna now suddenly crouching in front of her with a flower crown in her hands. DId she have that earlier?

Somehow not making eye contact despite being so close, Luna set the flower crown on her head before backing away. “There. You’re a dear friend, Holly. Please don’t die.”

“Thanks, Luna. I’ll try.”

—

“Is there some tactic we’ve missed? Something we haven't considered before?” Holly asked Mads, words almost incoherent given that she was laying facedown on the command centers' floor.

“We haven't tried any psychological torture in a while,” Mads immediately answered.

“Doubt that’ll work since he’ll know we’re trying to mess with him.”

“Hmm… actually, I might have a Great Idea” Mads said, making Holly look up and see the gleam in the construct's eye. “The Geneva Conventions don’t apply to mental warfare, do they?”

…

“You’re a genius! Let's commit some war crimes!” Holly shouted, giving Mads a high five before abruptly pausing. “Wait… do we even know what's all considered a war crime?”

Mads shrugged, “just ask Hermione.”

(Hermione knew it, as expected, but for some reason seemed unnerved after Holly said she was looking for inspiration.)

-

Unfortunately(?) for Holly, the only war crime that might prove helpful was chemical weapons. Technically a false surrender/truce could be used too but there was no way Adult Tom would fall for that.

Eh, even a single new idea was still better than nothing.

“Launching white phosphorus artillery shells in 3, 2, 1-” artillery batteries fired, sending their shells overhead and deep into Adult Tom’s side of their mental link.

Looking with binoculars, Holly watched as they detonated. A hazy cloud covered a wide area, enveloping it in white smoke.

Inside everything from werewolf packs to low-flying dragons were affected, hacking on air they suddenly couldn’t breathe. Death Eater constructs tried using the bullethead charm, only to realize it didn’t work. The inferni hoards weren't affected, but that was expected.

It was almost perfect. Adult Tom’s entire stream of reinforcements decimated before they could reach contested territory.

…Which is when Holly noticed the wind kicking up, sudden hurricane force winds blowing the gas away from his mind; towards the frontlines and her side.

”f*ck,” Holly and Mads said simultaneously.

“The T-1000 Holly’s will be fine, but the rest all need protective gear immediately!” Mads shouted, already wearing said gear. “Get outta here Prime, I’ll handle this.”

Nodding, Holly left her mindscape.

(In the end chemical warfare proved too risky, at least until she replaced enough Drone Clones with T-1000 Holly’s. Disappointing, but yet another reason to continue relentlessly upgrading her construct army.)

—

Holly had to admit, having a fireball randomly appear directly in front of her as she dozed off was pretty startling. It even managed to get some adrenaline flowing and heart pounding; quite the feat in her condition.

Trying to jump backwards, Holly tripped but thankfully landed on some suddenly-there pillows. (She really needed to thank the Room after this somehow.) Laying on her back, Holly blindly drew her wand and shakily pointed it at the… bird?

Wait no, she’d seen it before somewhere…

“You’re Dumbledore’s phoenix,” Holly muttered, getting an impressively offended sounding “SQUAWK!” back.

Why?

…Oh.

“Wait… even if Dumbledore’s super old… you’re immortal. You aren't Dumbledore’s bird; Dumbledore is basically your pet dog, right?”

Nodding in agreement, the massive bird flapped its wings, filling her view with feathers. Before she could react it flew towards her, tailfeathers hitting her in the face. As Holly sputtered and flailed it turned around on top of her head in a circle a few times, and kinda just… plopped down. LIke a cat.

Ok then.

“Does my hair make a good nest?” Holly asked, getting a happy chirp back.

Before she could say anything else the bird started singing.

Its Song echoed through the Room, each beautiful note laden with revitalizing power. Holly could feel herself sitting up straighter, her weariness beginning to wash away as the Song worked its magic. She didn’t need Mads to say anything, already knowing the construct would be busy putting her newfound energy to work.

Despite not saying a word Holly still understood what the phoenix was trying to convey.

It spoke of the struggle of Life. How the fight to survive couldn’t be extinguished. How Death was natural and not to be feared. How Life and Death are not opposites but each necessary for the other to exist. That everything ends… but that end is also a new beginning.

That Life is beautiful and should be enjoyed… but will come to its natural end one day.

Holly didn’t know when she started crying but suddenly tears were flowing down cheeks as she sniffled. Grabbing blindly, Holly pulled the bird off her head and shoved her face into its feathers. The bird probably wasn’t happy about her sobbing into it but it didn’t try to escape so it was probably ok with it.

Holly cried. Let herself finally express her bottled up stress and fear. Let her admit her frustration with the so-called ‘wizarding world’ for being so dependent on her. Let herself admit that she might lose to Adult Tom and die… but that she’d drag the bastard down with her even if it was the last thing she did.

Eventually, Holly cried herself out and pulled her face away from the now-disheveled bird. As Holly wiped her face with her sleeve the bird hopped away and kinda just shook itself, somehow making its rumpled feathers perfectly neat again.

Huh. Either an innate phoenix power… or it spent who knows how long practicing. Either seemed possible.

“I think I get what you’re trying to say, Mr Bird,” Holly said, throat still raw, “I might get killed doing this but until then I should keep fighting to survive. Right?”

The bird, unable to speak, stared back for a moment as if inspecting her before half heartedly nodding, as if saying ‘eh, close enough.’

“I guess I mostly understand then?” Holly asked, “thanks for coming and Singing for me. I feel so much better.”

It was true. Oh, she felt awful by normal standards, but compared to before her thoughts seemed clearer, her migraine had lessened, her stiff body no longer ached, and her eyes no longer burned with exhaustion. She hadn’t even realized how badly it all hurt until it was eased.

Giving her an inscrutable look, the phoenix nodded at her and disappeared in a flash of fire.

Somewhat revitalized and refreshed, Holly sunk into her mindscape to continue the fight to survive.

(It wouldn’t be until a few days later that Holly understood exactly what she’d missed in the phoenix’s message: that while she might get killed and would have to fight for the chance to die naturally one day… so did everyone else, regardless of her actions.

That people were always going to die and it wasn’t her fault.)

—

Holly knew she’d been losing track of the days. After all, since she never left the Room, had all her food delivered, was in a trance-like meditation 24/7… time quickly lost all meaning.

(Frankly, the only way she could guess the time was if Hermione told her or if the Room conjured a window while she ate.)

But there had been an upcoming date she’d asked Hermione to remind her of though.

One date she knew better than to lose track of.

Halloween.

Adult Tom was clearly fond of symbolism considering his horcruxes. It made sense that he’d do something on the anniversary of his defeat. Something major. Probably something aimed to strike at Holly. Something that might assure his victory.

Obviously Holly herself would be a potential target. But with her living in the Room nowadays, was physically safe herself. Mentally… not so much.

Hermione would’ve been a major vulnerability, but with her living in the Room as well she’d be completely safe.

Her allies-the Ministry and the Order-would both be on high alert.

She knew he’d launch some major attack. Everyone else expected it too according to Hermione, with security increased at Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and the Ministry itself. Preparations were made in advance, everyone collectively holding their breath knowing it was the calm before the storm.

Unfortunately, Holly, along with everyone else, failed to predict both the target and scale of the attack.

-

Holly, having been braced for attack within her mindscape, felt it the second the attack started.

One second their battle was raging as normal, the next it stopped almost completely. The unending hoards of metaphysical magical creatures and wizards Adult Tom sent to attack her slowed to a trickle. Instead Adult Tom’s side of their connection began leaking sad*stic glee. That wouldn’t happen unless-

“He’s focusing on whatever he’s physically attacking!” Holly shouted, then asked Mads, “Can we go on the offensive?” But before the construct could respond, Adult Tom started projecting his view down the link, letting her see through his eyes.

Though she’d never been there before she recognized it on sight. She’d been vaguely considering visiting for years but never seen it in person.

Godric’s Hollow.

In real time she saw Adult Tom’s and his followers surrounded Godric’s Hollow, flames leaping from their wands.

Saw as the Grove’s several thousand residents were dragged out of their homes.

Was forced to watch them beg for their lives as they were corralled.

Was forced to watch the realization sink into his victim’s eyes just before they cut down every last man, woman, elder, and child.

Was forced to watch, despite fighting with everything she had, the ruined cottage where she and her parents once lived burned down by Adult Tom’s own hand.

(All the while Mephisto’s words of her choice seemed to echo in her ears, making every crackle of burning homes and scream for mercy that much worse.)