Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
AN: I know I've been slow with updates with RL doesn't care that I want to finish this story. I will try to keep posts consistent but also don't be surprised at delays.

I know everyone is waiting for a reunion between Holly and Harry, or you're waiting for Snape to realise that Harry is Holly's childhood brother. Also, of course, you're all waiting for our dear Potions Master to reconcile with his darling daughter. Just be patient for a little longer because these things are on the horizon, not too far off. Just not in the next two or three chapters.

When I first started writing this story I didn't expect to switch POVs between so many characters but they all want their voices heard.

As for Draco's foot-in-mouth condition, believe me, I don't plan those incidents. Draco's just like that. Will he learn though? Stay tuned to find out.
Watch Grass Grow
> Chapter 13 - Watching Grass Grow

 

Regulus is worried about Harry. Harry has avoided everyone since they met with Albus almost a week ago. His friends, Regulus himself, and even Luna. At first, Regulus ran interference between Harry and his friends. Harry did deserve some time alone to think about everything they had unloaded on him about the prophecy.

               Kingsley and Arthur would soon take Harry to the Ministry to retrieve it. It would free up resources that Albus had in place for guarding it, which was dangerous work, not just because of Voldemort but also because of Fudge and how the Ministry was retreating from the threat.

               Regulus and Severus had arrived just as the dome between Harry and Voldemort had collapsed. By the time they had run to help, Harry had already reached for the portkey, taking Diggory’s body with him.

               From then, there was a confusing free for all where several Death Eaters disapparated, and some stayed to fight. That was how Voldemort discovered how many were genuinely loyal to him after thirteen years.

               Regulus had failed to grab Pettigrew to present him as proof of his brother’s innocence - a failure that only increased his guilt. By the time they had returned with reinforcements, all that remained of the graveyard were scorch marks and lingering remnants of Dark magic. In his anger, Voldemort had desecrated more graves before he left, but there was no evidence that any resurrection had taken place. Nothing to show Fudge what happened. Even with Lucius now against Voldemort, there were plenty of others to do the Dark Lord’s bidding.

               Voldemort was still recouping his loss, but it would not be long before he revealed himself. By then, it could be much too late for any Ministry action.

               In the meantime, Harry is suffering. On top of being worried about Holly, he now had to deal with the onerous knowledge of the prophecy. The first two days Harry had spent by himself. Then, he kicked Molly and Kreacher out of the kitchen for the last three days and completely took over. Molly is still a little put out at being thrown out of what she considers her sacred place, and so was Kreacher at first, until Harry purposely made sure to use every pot, pan and cooking utensil, providing the elf with plenty of cleaning, still.

               Given what he knew about his upbringing, Regulus was the only one not shocked at how well Harry could cook.

               A knock on Regulus’s door brings him out of his musings.

               “Come in,” he calls, looking towards the door.

               Ron’s redhead peeks out over the door frame.

               “Regulus?” The boy’s eyes dart around the room, looking for him until he spots the man. “Snape’s here to see you. He’s waiting for you in the kitchen.”

               Regulus doesn’t correct Ron’s lack of honorific. He’s not a teacher, and the school isn’t in session now. Besides, Severus isn’t here to hear it. Regulus remembers from his own school days that honorifics were rarely used when students talked amongst each other - even for those who referred to their favourite teachers.

               “Thank you, Ron,” Regulus smiles gently. He knows things are still a little strained between him and Harry at the moment, but Regulus has never doubted Ron’s heart. The boy might be naďve about some things, but his heart was always in the right place.

               He stands up from his chair and exits his room to head to the kitchen.

               “Your mother is still at the Burrow?”

               “Yeah,” Ron answers. “Since Harry’s taken over the kitchen, she’s been feeling a little … free, so she’s gone to take care of the house instead. She said the chooks still need feeding and doesn’t want to have the garden overrun with gnomes.”

               Regulus laughs a little.

               “No. Molly will be back to cooking in no time,” he tells the younger boy. “I’m sure Harry will get bored in the kitchen soon enough,”

               “He doesn’t have to give up all the cooking,” Ron says hastily.

               “You don’t want to miss out on his breakfast muffins?” Regulus adds knowingly.

               “His cheese and mushroom omelettes,” Ron admits sheepishly. Then, looking around as if to check for his mother, he adds with a whisper, “And his roast lamb. And Manchester tart. And –”

               “Okay, okay,” Regulus laughs. “Almost anything Harry makes.”

               Ron nods.

               “Mum’s a good cook too,” Ron continues quickly.

               “That she is,” Regulus nods agreeably. Then, as they approach the stairs leading to the kitchen, he asks, “Do you know what’s being prepared today?”

               “He asked Kreacher to buy as many blueberries as he can find,” Ron shrugs. “And I think he’s used up half a dozen bags of flour and probably as much sugar from the pantry. All the bowls have been filled with batter, so maybe he’s making muffins?”

               Regulus grins at Ron’s hopeful look.

               The boy pauses at the kitchen door, not willing to enter with Severus in there.

               “Doesn’t smell like he’s started cooking yet,” Ron sniffs at the air. “I’ll see you later, Regulus.”

               Regulus holds back another laugh at Ron’s poor excuse, though he wonders whether the young Gryffindor would have braved the kitchen (and Severus’s presence) if Harry had started baking his muffins.

               Severus is seated at the chair closest to the Floo. The Weasley twins converse quietly at the opposite ends of the table, with several bits of parchments in front of them. Regulus believes it is research regarding the joke shop they wish to open once they graduate from Hogwarts. Against Molly’s wishes. Their mother has already thrown away most of the products they had already developed, but fortunately, Kreacher managed to save it all on Regulus’s orders.

               Molly is ridiculously close-minded about her sons’ ambitions, clipping their wings through constant comparisons to Percy’s brilliant political career. She is proud of her third son, despite their current estrangement. At least Arthur is more supportive of Fred and George and their jocular endeavours.

               Hermione and Ginny (and he is surprised to see Nimmy there as well) are a few seats away from the twins, open books displayed. He knows Hermione has already done all her homework - and has badgered the others to do the same. She is likely reading through next year’s course load.

               Severus slowly stands up upon seeing Regulus, refusing to look at anyone else as he catches the other’s eyes.

               He instantly knows that this is about Holly and wonders absently what his friend has done this time to upset his daughter.

               “I wish to speak to you in private,” Severus approaches him stiffly.

               Regulus nods agreeably. He turns to the teenagers - plus Nimmy, who still acts like one - and says aloud: “All right, ladies and lads, can we have the room, please?”

               They all give him a surprised look but acquiesce without argument. Even Severus gives him a look of hidden surprise at the request. Usually, Regulus takes him to a different room like the parlour.

However, it is Regulus’ turn to be surprised when Severus stops Nimmy and announces, “Miss Tonks may stay.”

He knows the others believe it is Order business, but it does not stop their curious glances as they gather their papers and leave.

Nimmy shoots him a curious look, but he shrugs. It’s not like he knows why Severus has given her permission to stay. Behind Severus, Regulus sees Harry’s head sticking out of the pantry door, looking at him questioningly. Nimmy has not seen him and Severus has his back to the pantry, so Regulus subtly motions for Harry to go back inside and stay quiet, pulling out his wand to distract the others by making sure there is a Silencing Charm against the kitchen door. The twins never miss an opportunity to try their Extendable Ears for eavesdropping. Harry’s head disappears without anyone noticing his presence. Still, Regulus spells the pantry door with another Silencing Charm simultaneously, so no one can hear Harry, as he does with the kitchen.

               “What did you need, Severus?” Regulus asks, tucking his wand back into his holster.

               Severus turns to Nimmy first, to Regulus’s surprise.

               “Miss Tonks, I would like to ask if you can contact your mother. We are in need of a discreet Healer,” Severus entreats formally. Then, after a pause, he continues, “For a full medical scan.”

               “What’s happened?” Regulus gives his friend a look of concern.

               Severus hesitates, then says, “Holly hurt herself practising her gymnastics. I believe she might have twisted her ankle and then possibly sprained it further when she fell from her bed. She refuses to let anyone look at it. Are you free to see her?”

               Regulus knows what his friend is asking.

               “Of course. Nimmy, see if your mother is free and bring her back here. We’ll go together.”

               Nimmy nods in affirmation. With another nod at Severus, she takes a pinch of Floo powder and leaves.

               “Why don’t you go back, Severus?” Regulus tells him as the green flames die away. “I’ll wait for Nimmy and Andromeda and Floo to the Manor with them.”

               Severus nods perfunctorily.

               “Why do you need a full medical scan?” Regulus asks before Severus leaves.

               “Given that she has been residing in the muggle world, I thought I would take advantage of the opportunity to check if she has had her vaccinations.”

               “Seems reasonable,” Regulus acknowledges, though he makes a note to ask Harry if he might know as soon as Severus Floo’s away. “Is there anything else I should know?”

               Severus gives him a look. The Potions Master knows his real question is what has angered her this time?

               “Lucius’s associates and their children came to visit today. The children were left to their own devices. Discussions lead to some books Holly possesses, written by a muggle author, a certain Roald Dahl. The content of the books was questionable in nature, which led to the speculation of whether they were written by a squib or a muggle-born who could not make a career in the Magical World.” Severus inhales deeply before concluding, “Though the word Draco used was more offensive in nature.”

               Regulus knows which word Severus is referring to. Even over two decades later, Severus still cannot speak the word and punishes anyone reckless enough to utter it in his vicinity. His esteem for Lucius rises as he gives this more thought. Lucius is a master of holding his tongue when required, but doing so in the privacy of his own home where, by all means, he should be free to do as he pleases, is no mean feat. Yet, for Severus, Lucius managed to curb his words.

               From what Harry tells him, Draco has yet to learn this skill. It does not escape him that Regulus trusts the words of a boy he has known for two years rather than the one he has known from birth. Perhaps it is because he has known Draco from birth that he understands his nephew’s nature. Lucius and Narcissa have spoiled him too much, where they should have taught him to navigate the world of people, to understand the needs and wants of others and to use them to his own benefit.

               Instead, Draco feels that the strength of his name is enough to open doors for him. That might be true, but Draco needs to understand that the Malfoy name might open some doors, but it is up to him to ensure those doors welcome him. Not everyone will fall to his feet only because he is a Malfoy.

               Regulus nods thoughtfully. “I’ll follow behind you as soon as Andromeda gets back.”

                Severus sighs and turns to use the Floo. “Thank you.”

               Regulus waits until the flames die away completely before calling for Harry to come out. He does so, holding a jar of honey and a bottle of maple syrup.

               “Can you do me a favour, Regulus?” Harry asks hesitantly.

               Regulus gives him a questioning look.

               “Can you ask Malfoy – Lucius, that is - if he can open his wards for Hedwig? Not for her to keep flying between Holly and me,” Harry rushes to explain. “But so that Holly can keep Hedwig with her.”

               Regulus gives Harry a gentle smile. “I will,” Regulus promises.

               He points to the prepared batter (enough to bathe in) and what he conservatively estimates must be at least ten kilos worth of blueberries.

               “Are you making muffins?” he asks hopefully.

               Harry smiles back.

               “Pancakes.”

               “For an evening meal?”

               Harry shrugs. “I’ll do a fry-up for those who want a savoury meal instead,”

               As he turns back to the hotplate Molly usually uses for breakfast every morning, he queries casually: “Who are Lucius’s associates?”      

               “Defectors like Lucius,” Regulus explains, standing next to Harry. Despite living alone for almost fourteen years, he has never learned to cook. There has never been any need for him to, not with Kreacher always around. He understands this is a skill that Harry learned from his relatives and has the scars to prove it. It hurts Regulus to think about how many scars he might have endured before his cooking passed his aunt and uncle’s standards.

               Pushing these thoughts aside, Regulus continues, “The Crabbe and Goyle families have already fled. This afternoon’s meeting, which I forgot was going to happen today, was to discuss who else would flee and who would stay to fight, who would take their children and who would send them to Hogwarts.”

               Harry nods as he listens, skillfully ladling the batter onto the hotplate. Each pancake is a perfect circle, then judging exactly when it is time to add the blueberries and the right time to flip it over.

               “Why pancakes?” Regulus probes, nimbly nabbing the first pancake before Harry can place it on the plate.

               “Holly’s favourite,” the other simply answers.

               “Perfect timing,” Regulus observes. “I’ll take some with me. I’m sure she’ll appreciate them.”

               Harry gives him a look of gratitude, not unlike the one Severus gave him before he Flooed away.

               By the time Nimmy returns from wherever she went to fetch her mother, Harry has made enough pancakes to feed the Weasleys. Seeing that the food is ready, Nimmy rushes over to the pancakes and helps herself, moaning exaggeratedly as she bites into the first one.

               “You’re moving in with me, Harry,” she exclaims around a mouthful of pancake. “Or I’m moving here. Wherever I can get pieces of heaven like this.”

               “Don’t talk with your mouthful, Nymphadora,” Andromeda admonishes. Ignoring her daughter’s scowl, she says, “We have a little girl in need of healing. That’s why I’m here. Not to watch you stuff your face like a chipmunk.”

               Harry sends Regulus a playful look and enquiries in a deliberately quizzical voice, “Little girl?”

               Regulus hides his amusement at the way the Tonks women freeze. Andromeda is usually more circumspect than this. Merlin help her if Severus was here to hear. Regulus takes another pancake, waiting for the ladies to talk themselves out of this.

               Nimmy relaxes before Andromeda does. Regulus belatedly recalls Nimmy watching him and Harry after her first trip back from Malfoy manor; perhaps she had picked up on something then, but he had forbidden her to ask questions.

               “Just a new patient I’m taking on,” Andromeda attempts to smooth over.

               Harry nods placidly as he turns back to his hotplate, ladling on more batter.

               “I hope it’s nothing serious,” he says with sincerity, with his back to everyone.

“Andromeda is a skilled Healer,” Regulus assures the younger boy. Turning to Andromeda, he asks, “Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes,” Andromeda replies. “Dora mentioned a full medical scan. I assume that also meant vaccinations.”

“Vaccinations?” Harry repeats, half turning around as if he and Regulus did not just have this conversation ten minutes ago. “Muggle or magical vaccinations?”

“Magical, though I am aware of the injections muggles use. I assume you had your muggle injections growing up in the muggle world?”

“Yeah. The school nurse always took care of them,” Harry responds, still looking after the pancakes.

Regulus sneaks another one from the pile. Nimmy, seeing this, jealously copies him, snagging herself another pancake as well.

“Our vaccinations come in the form of potions, of course,” Andromeda tells Harry. “Most children get them between the ages of five and nine. Muggle-borns usually receive theirs when they enter Hogwarts. Since you were muggle raised, am I to assume that you might have slipped through the cracks? Are your vaccinations still outstanding?”

Andromeda drops her medical bag on the dining table, looking ready to give Harry a full medical scan right then and there.

Harry quickly assures her, turning briefly to catch her eye, “Oh, I almost missed out on them. Hermione mentioned her appointment to me in our first year, and I realised, like you just said, that my name wasn’t on the muggle-born list. Madam Pomfrey did a full medical scan when I made my vaccinations appointment.”

Regulus knows from his talk with Harry that this was how Poppy realised the young boy was being abused. However, because he never opened up to her, she had been unable to do more than send vague hints to Minerva. After Harry had tried to warn McGonagall about the Stone and been ignored, he had never bothered going to McGonagall for anything else. Only Eileen had his loyalty, though Regulus wonders how Harry could forget and forgive her lies. Hiding her whole identity must have hurt him when he found out.

“We should go,” Andromeda says, turning to the Floo. “Severus is waiting for us, I am sure.”

“Severus? As in Snape?”

Regulus closes his eyes, almost slapping his hand over his face.

“Mother, what is wrong with you?” Nimmy’s exasperation does not have the same impact when her mouth is filled with an entire pancake.

“You’re right, Andromeda,” Regulus shakes his head. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, before mother dearest reveals any more,” Nimmy mutters, grabbing another pancake before pushing Andromeda towards the Floo.

One glance at Harry shows the boy is enjoying this.

“I’ll speak to you when we get back, Harry,” Regulus deadpans.

“Take some pancakes,” he smirks, which only Regulus can see. “If the poor girl is subjected to Snape, she’ll need some sugar.”

Regulus nods: bringing out his wand, he summons Tupperware, charmed to keep food at the right temperature, and adds the whole stack of pancakes Harry made to it.

“Hey!” Harry protests, falsely outraged, but Regulus merely shrugs.

“You have plenty of batter and blueberries left,” he defends himself. “What if we come back and there’s none left?”  Even with the wizard space charm on the tub, he has to cram the lid on top.

“It would be wrong to deprive us,” Nimmy adds with approval, eying the tub in Regulus’s hand. “I’ll carry that for you, Reg.”

“Move it,” Regulus tells her when she reaches for it and yanks it out of her reach. “You!” He points to Harry. “You keep making more pancakes. And don’t speak to anyone about Severus and the little girl.”

He adds this only for Andromeda and Nimmy’s sake.

Harry bites his lip, giving a nod of understanding. Regulus knows it is because he is trying to keep from laughing.

“And you two, not a word to Severus.”

They both nod, though Nimmy is still eying the tub of pancakes.

Harry turns to ladle more pancake batter to the hotplate, needing to make more now that Regulus has taken whatever he made so far.

The ladies Floo away, and Regulus barely remembers to remove the security spells before he too disappears in green flames.

When he walks out of the grate, Narcissa and Andromeda are already walking toward the door. He and Nimmy follow, his niece still trying to get the pancakes from his hand.

“You have some explaining to do when we get back to Headquarters,” Nimmy mutters.

Regulus ignores her as they follow Narcissa and Andromeda up the staircase.

Severus is waiting outside Holly’s room impatiently, while Lucius and Draco are nowhere to be seen.

Regulus can practically hear him screaming the word, ‘Finally’, though he does not say it aloud.

“She refuses to let us enter,” Severus admits after greeting Andromeda stiltedly. “I do not know how badly her foot is injured.”

Regulus acknowledges his words and then turns to knock on the door.

“Holly, darling,” he calls. “I’m coming in,” He cautiously opens the door, eyes automatically drawing towards the bed as he walks in. She is not there. Entering further, he sees her sitting under the window ledge.

Her face is tear-streaked. Seeing him, she stumbles to her feet, trying to get to him, but he already knows her foot will not support her.

“Andromeda,” he yells, even though she is just on the other side of the door. Throwing the tub onto the bed, he reaches for her in two long strides, lifting her off her feet and pulling her close.

Andromeda is not alone in rushing in, and Regulus belatedly realises he has made everyone panic. He has not seen Severus this rattled since the graveyard.

Regulus sits on the bed, keeping Holly on his lap, extending her foot to Andromeda so she can examine it. He is not a Healer, but he knows that even with her sock on, Holly’s foot is not meant to be the size of a melon.

Holly wraps one arm around his waist and the other around his torso. He pulls her close, arms protective around her as she buries her face in his chest.

“Do you want to tell me what happened, darling?” he questions gently.

“I fell,” her voice comes in a hitch, muffled against his chest. “Twice.”

“Twice?”

She nods.

“Aunt Andromeda is a Healer. She’s going to take your sock off, all right?”

Another nod, but she turns her head to see Andromeda, who conjures a small stool to sit on beside the bed. Holly watches as Andromeda gently rolls down the sock, wincing and scrunching her eyes shut as her foot is jostled.

A noise from Severus has him looking up to his friend. Narcissa places a calming hand on his shoulder.

“How did you fall, sweetheart?” Andromeda asks gently as she waves a wand over Holly’s foot.

“I was showing Draco’s friends my gymnastics, and I didn’t land right and hurt my foot,” Holly mumbles. “It didn’t hurt a lot at first, but I was careful. I forgot to ask Roker for ice, so it swelled. Then it got worse when I fell from the bed.”

“Well, it’s not broken,” Andromeda states, easing the worried spirits. “You will need to drink a horrible tasting potion or two, though.”

“How horrible?” Holly asks.

“Like sweaty socks and cherries mixed together,”

Holly wrinkles her nose. “I don’t like cherries. How about blueberries?”

Andromeda laughs.

“I’m afraid I only have cherries,” she says, digging around in her medical bag for the potion.

 Regulus pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wipes her drying tears as Holly nods, looking at him. “You like blueberries?”

Regulus reaches for the Tupperware tub that Nimmy is eying up.

“What about strawberries?”

Holly wrinkles her nose again and shakes her head. “Blueberries.”

“Raspberries?”

“Blueberries.”

“Boysenberries?”

“Blueberries.”

“Gooseberries?”

She gives him an exasperated look. “No, just blueberries.”

“All right, all right,” he concedes.

Andromeda interrupts them, holding out a small vial filled with a lilac-coloured potion.

“Drink this one up, darling,” she instructs. “It’s for the pain. Okay? Then I will do a complete medical scan on you and see if you need anything else. We’ll get the horrible potions drunk, and maybe your Uncle Regulus will give you some blueberry treats.”

“Okay,” Holly nods gamely.

“I need you to drink this potion next,” Andromeda hands her a vial with a yellow-coloured potion. “This is for the swelling.”

Holly drinks down the lilac potion first, looking as if she will gag but managing to keep it down. Then takes the yellow potion, forcing herself to glug it down.

Andromeda casts a spell and taps a roll of parchment with her wand. It takes several minutes before it stops copying down past ailments, ending with a soft ping.

Andromeda studies it carefully, with Severus, Narcissa and Nimmy looming above her trying to read it.

“Looks like you’ve sprained your ankle more than once in the past,” she finally comments.

“Gymnastics,” Holly promptly answers.

“Shoulder?”

“Gymnastics.”

“Knee?”

“Gymnastics.”

“Fingers?”

“Gymnastics.”

“Head?”

“I fell… in gymnastics class.”

“Wrist?”

There’s a perceptible pause before Holly answers with a dull tone, “Gymnastics.”

They all look at her in varying degrees of concern, but she resolutely doesn’t look back at any of them.

“It looks like you’ve had your muggle vaccinations, at least. Which is good. I’ll just give you your magical vaccinations and some Bruise balm –”

Andromeda cuts off abruptly as Holly startles them all, trying to throw herself away from the healer, holding herself tightly, kicking out with her injured foot.

“I don’t want a jab! I don’t want a jab!” she yells. “Please don’t make me.”

Regulus has to tighten his grip around the squirming bundle of panic. He winces as she sticks her bony elbows into his ribs.

“No needles,” Andromeda says quickly, trying to reassure her. “No needles.”

It takes several seconds for Holly to understand. Regulus winces as he releases his grip on her.

“Promise?”

“I promise. It’s just another three potions.”

“No needles?” Holly checks again, her voice still shaky due to the recent panic attack.

 Andromeda confirms. “No needles, darling,”

Holly nods. “Okay.”

“Then,” Andromeda continues, “I’ll give you some Bruise balm to put on your foot. I’ll rub some in now, and then you can do it before you go to bed tonight. By morning, the swelling will have gone down and if there are still any bruises left, just use it again before breakfast. Okay?”

Holly nods once more and adds a sheepish, “Sorry.”

“No harm, sweetheart.”

Regulus helps Holly chug down her potions, one after another. Narcissa conjures a glass and fills it with water to wash down the taste. Andromeda, about to rub the Bruise balm onto Holly’s foot, stops when Severus places his hand on her shoulder. Regulus is ready to distract Holly, just in case she makes a fuss.

Reaching for the tub he threw down earlier, he diverts Holly’s attention to himself as Andromeda and Severus switch places.

“Are you sure you definitely want blueberries?” he asks, raising his brow at her.

“Blueberries,” she grins, then jumps as Severus begins massaging the Bruise balm onto her foot. “That’s cold.”

“Hold this,” Regulus says, keeping her attention on him. He hands her the tub and pulls out his wand, giving it a theatrical flourish, then taps the top of the tub.

“There,” he says. “Blueberry muffins.”

Both Andromeda and Nimmy give him a questioning look.

“Pancakes are better.”

With an exaggerated sigh, as if she is being demanding, he gives it another tap and says, “There. You have pancakes instead.”

Holly looks as if to say he isn’t fooling her.

“I know magic can’t make food appear,” she exclaims. “It’s Stamp’s law.”

“Gamp’s law, smartypants,” Regulus corrects her, resisting this urge to stick his tongue out at her.

Holly gives him a cheeky grin and an expectant look.

“Open the tub, brat,” he winks at her.

Severus finishes with the Bruise balm and moves back, wiping his hands on the conjured towel from Narcissa.

Cautiously, as if she is opening a gift, Holly lifts the lid from the tub, and the smell of freshly made pancakes slaps them all across the face.

“They smell divine,” Narcissa comments, stepping closer.

Holly looks at the pancakes with a strange expression.

“Well, if you’ve changed your mind,” he says, moving his hand as if to take the tub from her.

He is startled by the kiss she lands on his jaw and says, “Nope. They’re mine.”

Looking down at her, he smiles at her expression of gratitude. She knows Harry has made them. She picks the first one out of the tub, biting into it with relish.

“T’ank oo,” she says with a mouthful of pancake.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

“You know,” Nimmy speaks up for the first time, “they’ll taste better when you share them.”

Holly pulls the tub possessively to her chest, then relents and reluctantly offers it to Nimmy first, “They’re too good to share, but… all right.”

“You’re lucky you got any at all, Holly,” Regulus tells her with a playful glare at Nimmy. “If I hadn’t carried the tub, Nimmy would have eaten them all on the Floo trip.”

“You’re not wrong,” the other woman admits, plucking the next pancake from the proffered tub.

Even Severus is offered the tub, much to his surprise. Regulus doesn’t even hesitate when Holly pulls it back towards him.

Holly grins at him, her cheek bulging with the sweet treat, and then she turns to Narcissa, “Can we get whipped cream with these? Please?”

“Oh, whipped cream,” Nimmy groans. “That’ll be perfect.”

“They are delicious pancakes,” Narcissa agrees politely, though Regulus sees her eying the tub for a second, even though she still has more than half a pancake left. “Shall we head to the dining room? Roker will bring some whipped cream, syrup and more fruit to complement the pancakes.”

“What do you think of them, Severus?” Regulus asks, standing up from the bed, Holly still in his arms.

“Molly Weasley is an accomplished cook,” Severus comments, carefully examining the half-eaten treat. “I have never had occasion to complain about her cooking.”

Regulus exchanges a roguish look with Nimmy, taking the tub of pancakes from Holly and offering Severus a second as they exit the room and make their way to the dining room. Holly is already on her third pancake, chomping away enthusiastically as Regulus carries her. She still had one foot in a sock.

Nimmy deliberately waits until Severus has bitten into his second pancake.

“It wasn’t Molly who made these,” Nimmy tells them casually.

“Then it would have been your House-Elf,” Severus responds negligently. “In which case, he has definitely improved.”

“Actually,” Andromeda says mischievously, still on her first, “it was Regulus’s new House-Elf.”

“New House-Elf?” Narcissa queries, spotting the mischief in her sister’s eyes.

“Harry Potter,” Andromeda replies smoothly.

Regulus holds back a smirk as Severus simultaneously chokes and misses a step, almost falling as he flounders.

“They’re brilliant,” Holly pipes up, reaching for her fifth. She has blueberries in her teeth. Regulus is glad he picked up the whole Weasley stack at the rate Holly is going through them - she practically inhaled her fourth.

Severus is still trying to recover as they enter the dining room. He looks like he wants to snatch the tub from Holly’s hands and incinerate it with Fiendfyre.

He reminds himself to speak to Lucius about allowing Hedwig through the wards as he takes a seat, arranging his favourite Snape in his lap.

 

ooOoo

 

Harry shoots up from Regulus’s bed as soon as he hears the knock. He is already halfway through opening the door when it occurs to him that Regulus would not knock on his own bedroom door.

            He’s greeted by Luna’s smile as he opens the door.

               “Hi, Luna,” he greets a little awkwardly, stepping back to let her in.

               “Hello, Harry,” she replies, entering. She looks around curiously, reminding him of Hedwig, who rotates her head at angles impossible for a human to emulate.

               She has never been invited into Regulus’s bedroom before. In fact, Harry realises he is the only one who enters here regularly. The others tend to stick to their assigned bedrooms. If they need to speak to Harry, they knock on the door and wait for him to come out. Only he likes to wait in Regulus’s room when the other wizard has gone to see Holly.

               He bracingly tells himself that he will see her in a few months during the Christmas holidays.

               “It’s a lovely place to hide,” Luna comments as she sits beside Harry on the bed.

               He opens his mouth to deny it but realises that this is only the pure truth: he is hiding from everyone, and Luna is too clever to not notice.

               “Yeah,” he clears his throat. “Regulus is kind enough to let me use the room.”

               “Am I disturbing your quiet time?” Luna asks, staring at the ceiling as if it somehow fascinates her.

               “No, not at all,” Harry hastens to assure her. “You’re not disturbing me.”

               Quiet descends on them, though not awkwardly.

               “I’ll be sorry not to be able to eat your cooking anymore,” Luna remarks into the silence.

               Harry’s lips twitch. Mrs Weasley had returned from the Burrow as they were all tucking into the new batch of pancakes he had made, along with a fry-up, pursed her lips and gently - but not so gently told Harry she would take over the cooking once more as pancakes were not a proper evening meal.

               Harry did not argue and again acquiesced to let her take over the kitchen. The truth is that he needed to occupy himself somehow since hearing about the prophecy. Dumbledore had returned and told him the gist of it, but Harry was meant to go with Mr Weasley and Kingsley secretly to retrieve it before the end of summer.

               “Thanks,” he acknowledges. The Dursleys were highly stingy with compliments, so Harry cannot deny the satisfaction of knowing he had pleased the Weasleys. Not that they were picky eaters: they may eat particular food with more enthusiasm, but otherwise, they shovelled any food placed in front of them with gusto.

               “Daddy’s not very good at cooking,” Luna continues, still squinting at the ceiling, and Harry wonders if she sees nargles up there. “Mummy used to do all the cooking, but Daddy is really good at frying eggs: however, having the same thing at breakfast every morning can be dreary.”

               “Yeah,” Harry agrees with a smile. He leans back with his feet on the floor, placing his weight on his elbows as he studies Luna’s profile from the side. She wears her long hair open, the strands cascading over her shoulders, down her back and ending at her hips, like a cascade of dripping gold. During classes, she ties her hair back with various clips she makes herself. However, she releases the clips after classes and on the weekend. Harry has never seen her wear her hair back the whole time she has been at Grimmauld place. Her hair is a dirty blonde colour and slightly frizzy - though not as much as Hermione’s. Luna’s hair often looks unbrushed but generally falls in waves down her back.

               He reaches out his hand to touch her hair with fascination. Luna doesn’t let on that she knows what he is doing - or maybe she does and doesn’t mind.

               “Did Hermione get you started on the new booklist for next year?” Harry asks, carefully combing his fingers through her hair. What would Luna’s hair look like if she braided it? He finds that he wants to bury his fingers in her hair, comb it through and twist it into a neat braid as he used to do with Holly. What would Luna look like if she didn’t hide her face behind her luxuriant hair?

               “Oh yes,” she tells him. “I’ve already read the first five chapters of my Charms book. Though Transfiguration is a little more complicated, and I’m only on chapter two.”

He sits up, pulling her hair back to expose the pale column of her neck. Her skin is smooth and silky, making him want to touch it. He realises he wants to kiss the soft spot, and without thinking, he leans against the crevice of her neck and gently brushes the skin with his lips.

She gasps at the unexpected contact, pausing in her speech, but he is quick to gently grasp her long, slender arms. He can see her pulse just below the surface of her skin, pounding furiously, seeming to call to him like the sweetest melodies. He cannot help but lean forward once more and place his lips on the pulse. She gasps at the feel of his lips, and the sound of that gasp brings him back.

Blushing, he pulls back, moving away from Luna as if she were a raging fire and he a helpless victim; caught up in the spell of her aura, he can barely stammer an apology.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” he tries to assure her.

“It felt nice,” Luna turns her luminous eyes on him, no trace of dread or revulsion in them. “I’ve never been kissed there before.”

Harry flushes again.

He and Luna have kissed before, but they have been nothing more than quick pecks on the lips. Not even a proper kiss like couples are wont to do. He doesn’t even know if he and Luna are a couple: he has not asked her to be his girlfriend, though he would not mind. Harry has faced many deadly and dangerous creatures since entering Hogwarts, but asking for a partner to the Yule ball or a date to Hogsmeade was infinitely more challenging than any basilisk or dragon he has encountered.

Nevertheless, he gathers what courage he has left and asks, still a little shy:  “Luna, will you be my girlfriend?”

She gives him a pleased smile, wider than the one she gave when she talked about the snorkack hunt she’d been on with her father. 

“Yes, Harry. I would like that. Will it be better than being friends?”

Harry smiles back, elation completely pervading him.

“I hope so.”

“Boyfriends should kiss their girlfriends, shouldn’t they? Isn’t that what boyfriends and girlfriends do?”

Harry’s smile grows, and the anticipation is almost overwhelming. “Yeah.”

They lean toward each other, slowly, carefully. Beginning with pressing his lips against Luna’s, Harry kisses her, rocking his lips instinctually, sensing the softness of her skin and the warmth of her breath mingling with his own. They pull back at the same time. Harry opens his eyes, not realising that they have closed.

Neither of them says a word as they drift back to each other. Harry cups her jaw, pulling her closer, with her arms around his shoulder, and then presses himself against her, lowering them to the bed. He doesn’t want the kiss to stop, though he tries to keep a gap between them when he feels his body react embarrassingly in the heat of the moment. He freezes above her: she is lying on the bed with her legs still over the sides. Looking down at her, his glasses dangle loosely over her. He pushes them up with one hand as the other supports his weight.

Sensing his uncertainty, she cups his cheek with a questioning look. “Harry?”

He leans back down, intending only to give her one last peck and pull away completely, but instead, he finds himself kissing her deeper than before, pressing his body against the softness of hers. From the way she gasps against his lips, he realises she knows his problem but doesn’t push him away.

He knows he should probably stop, or at least slow down, but kissing her feels too good. The hand not supporting his weight rests on her hip, pulling her closer, whilst one of hers rests on his bicep.

He pulls his lips away from hers, leaving a trail of lavish little kisses along her jaw, while a strange sensation seems to clutch his insides in his lower belly: the desire to bury his face in her neck again, to feel the rapid throb under his lips, to make her gasp as he did before becomes pressing. He is rewarded by her laboured breathing. Her fingers tighten in his hair, and a part of his mind wonders when she moved her hand from his bicep.

The sound of loud and deliberately throat-clearing jolts them both. Harry’s eyes are glazed as he tries to focus on who startled them. Humiliatingly, it’s not just one person who caught them: Regulus and Sirius stand there with identical expressions of disapproval and displeasure, arms forebodingly crossed against their chests.

Harry scrambles to put more distance between him and Luna while she sits up, blushing prettily but looking gamely at both adults.

“I – er – we – You’re back,” Harry’s voice cracks as he stutters his words with difficulty. He crosses his legs, surreptitiously reaching for Regulus’ pillow to cover his lap.

               He finds himself unable to meet their eyes, face embarrassingly red.

               “That I am,” Regulus confirms in a stern tone. “Not a moment too soon, apparently.”

               “We – er – we were just,” Harry trails off, trying desperately to explain.

                Sirius takes over, raising a brow in his direction. “We can see what you were just doing.”

               “I came to check if Harry was okay after dinner,” Luna adds, remarkably more coherent than Harry can manage on his own.

               A heavy silence greets her answer.

“We were discussing our booklist for next year when Harry started playing with my hair,” Luna continues. “I think he liked it.”

Harry presses his lips together. Luna can be too open sometimes, and even though he adores her for it, he has come to realise that she occasionally does it on purpose when trying to talk her way out of trouble. Like now, hopefully. It is not something Harry would attempt himself - he doesn’t possess the same guile as her.

“We don’t need a play-by-play, Luna,” Regulus interrupts her before she goes into too much detail but in vain.

“Harry is an excellent kisser,” Luna offers with a pleased nod. “Not that I’ve kissed other boys, or girls, to judge him by.”

Harry looks up in time to see Sirius’s lip twitch before settling back into an unreadable expression.

“We could certainly hear you both enjoy… kissing,” the older Black brother drawls, and Regulus interjects before Luna can say anything further. “Nimmy will take you to your room, Luna.”

Harry suppresses a groan. Is Tonks here too?

Luna gracefully rises from the bed and turns to Harry, leaning down and giving him another kiss, this time on the cheek, before turning to leave. Harry wishes he could follow her from this humiliating hell.

Regulus and Sirius take a step in opposite directions, creating a gap for Luna to pass through.

“I hope you’re not in too much trouble, Harry,” she says earnestly from the door, then ambles off, leaving him to deal with the brothers alone. He hears Luna greet Tonks in the hallway a few steps from the room and then the sound of the stairs creaking. After that, silence.

Regulus closes the door firmly behind Luna, his eyes still on Harry.

“So?” he asks expectantly, giving him a stern look.

Harry’s eyes skitter away.

“I’m sorry,” he tries miserably.

“You’re sorry?” Sirius repeats in an incredulous tone.

“You were about to have underage sex, in a houseful of Order members, in my bed, and all you can say is I’m sorry?” Regulus snaps. “Anyone could have walked in on you.”

Harry cringes at the tone, hunching inwards to avoid more censure, and clutches the pillow closer to himself.

“Maybe you wouldn’t have been caught if only you’d closed the door properly when you let Luna in.” Sirius tuts. “Sloppy, Harry, very sloppy,”

Harry slowly lifts his head as the words filter through.

“What?” he stutters.

Sirius and Regulus exchange another look before they both give in and laugh at him.

Regulus pulls up a chair, straddling it backwards and giving Harry a smirk as he crosses his arms on top of it. Sirius sits on the bed instead.

“This isn’t an invitation for you to use my room as your personal sex palace,” Regulus begins, smirking widely as he watches Harry wince at the words, “but, if you had closed the door behind you, then no one would have realised anyone was in here, having underage fun. I’ve placed a Silencing ward on the door recently,” he adds with nonchalance.

Wary of Sirius in the room, Harry mumbles, “I was waiting for you to come back from… wherever you went.” He doesn’t know if his godfather knows about this visit to Malfoy Manor. “Luna just came in to check on me after dinner. We were just… talking.”

“Then one thing led to another,” Sirius continues. “We were teenage boys too, not so long ago. We get it.”

The boy looks between the brothers. “Are you mad?”

“No, Harry. We’re not,” Sirius replies. “But you have to be careful. Molly could have caught you.”

He shudders at the thought of being caught by Mrs Weasley. There would have been more shouting involved. Although she has always treated Harry more gently than she did her children, even she would not have condoned him and Luna getting caught in bed together, no matter that they were only kissing.

“What are you trying to say?” he asks, a little confused. Are they scolding him or giving him advice?

“We understand that emotions can be a little heightened,” Sirius begins seriously. “You’re a teenage boy whose body is going through many changes.”

Realising where the two were going with this, Harry blurts out in a panicked tone. “I’ve already had the sex talk!”

“We don’t care,” Regulus tells him unsympathetically. “You’re hearing it again.”

“Please, Reg,” Harry begs desperately, clutching the pillow tightly. His “problem” is gone now, and he eyes the door, wondering if he can make a run for it. “I already know about sex and which bit goes where. I know about muggle contraceptions like condoms and pills. I know three different Charms and two different potions. I know about a girl’s monthly periods, tampons, and sanitary pads. I know that no means no. I would never force Luna to do anything she wouldn’t be ready for. I would rather throw myself between a basilisk and a dragon before hurting her.”

The smirks have fallen from their faces.

“Either sex education has improved since my days at Hogwarts, or Hermione has done an incredibly comprehensive job of instructing you about safe sex,” Sirius states, looking put out.

Unthinkingly, Harry mutters, “Oma mostly.”

“Oma?” Sirius asks.

Harry freezes, forgetting that his godfather doesn’t know about Iris or Holly.

“She was a sweet, elderly lady who lives near Privet Drive,” Harry tries to explain as vaguely as possible. “She gave Dudley and me a much better talk than Aunt Petunia did.”

 Sirius frowns. “I thought you were the only magical on Privet Drive.”

“Oma, she said we could call her that, used to baby-sit us,” Harry says, fudging the truth a little for Sirius’ sake. “She used to tutor my cousin and me. When we started talking about girls, she made sure we knew about staying safe. The muggle way, at least. The rest was Madam Pomfrey. And some of it was Hermione.”

Regulus gives Harry a knowing look while Sirius reaches across the bed to give him a slap across the back.

“You know how to take the fun out of embarrassing you, don’t you, Harry?” Sirius mumbles, getting to his feet. “We only wanted to make sure you stay safe.”

Harry nods. “I know. And I appreciate that.”

“You know you can come to Reg and me anytime about girl stuff, right?” Sirius continues earnestly. “I promise we’ll give you better advice than we did in our letters last year.”

Harry lets out a reluctant laugh.

“How about a game of chess?”

Regulus looks up to his brother. “Actually, Sirius, there’s something I need to speak to Harry about,”

The other looks put out again, probably at being excluded, but forces a smile and leaves them alone. Regulus waits until Sirius closes the door, ensuring the Silencing Ward is engaged, before turning to Harry, raising an eyebrow.

“You would have done well in Slytherin.”

Harry shrugs, feeling less tense now that he won’t have to deal with yet another sex talk.

“The Hat almost put me there,” he mumbles. “Between Hagrid, Ron and Draco Malfoy, they all did a thorough job of putting me off. Mostly Draco because he was a git who reminded me of Dudley with his entitled attitude.”

“Yes, Draco tends to have that effect,” Regulus agrees. “Listen, Harry: I know you’ve had a pretty thorough talk about sex, contraption, and girl problems, but… I just want to say you should be careful. Your first time should be special and mutual for both you and Luna - if she’s whom you choose to be with. Wizards and witches mature faster than muggles, so the age of consent is fourteen in the Wizarding World. Still, there’s no rush.”

Harry nods again.

“Taking this step will not make you more manly than others because it is not, and should not be, a mere competition between boys. Do we understand each other?”

“I like Luna,” Harry replies in a quiet voice. “It’s peaceful being around her.”

Regulus smiles gently at his words.

“She’s a good sort,” the man approves. “I believe you when you say you wouldn’t hurt her. Between your innate kindness and Eileen’s - because yes, I know Eileen educated you thoroughly on sex and contraception, you’re in a better position than most teenagers.” He chuckles lightly. “You’ve surrounded yourself with some unique witches.”

Harry smiles, thinking of the witches in his life. Iris, Holly and Hermione. They were all pretty exceptional.

“Is Holly alright? It was just a gymnastics sprain, wasn’t it?”

Though he and Holly were more resilient than muggles thanks to their magic, they still got hurt often enough during gymnastics for him not to worry overly much. Iris was forced to let them heal the muggle way in the muggle world, even after Harry found out he was a wizard. Having been a part of the magical world for four years, he has spent enough time in the Hogwarts Infirmary to know that most injuries are quickly healed. At Hogwarts, he had learned enough healing spells to take care of most of his minor injuries, but he still reported them to Madam Pomfrey out of respect.

“She’s fine,” Regulus assures him. “Andromeda fixed her foot in no time. There are still some bruises, but they will be gone by morning with the application of Bruise balm. I think she hurt herself on the Quidditch pitch doing a cartwheel. Then, she fell off the bed and made it worse.”

“Idiot,” Harry comments affectionately. “Why didn’t she say she hurt her foot?”

“She was with Draco and his friends,” Regulus informs him. “I gather she didn’t trust them. Lucius, Narcissa and Severus were in a meeting with the other parents to decide on a plan to follow.”

Harry listens in silence as Regulus explains more about the intention behind the meeting. At the time, Harry had been too shell-shocked to understand that some Death Eaters who made an appearance in the graveyard that night had tried to help. Regulus did report that they ultimately decided to defect after seeing Harry fight and hold his own at such a young age. Lucius Malfoy had also spent the whole year as the driving force behind the defection as their Dark Marks darkened.

Harry cannot say he trusted Lucius Malfoy, but for Regulus, he is willing to give him a chance. At least, Holly’s letters reveal that she likes the elder Malfoys. He is glad that Regulus is a regular visitor on his behalf: it would have killed him not to know how Holly was doing.

He is surprised at how many former Death Eaters have decided to stay and fight. At least, the majority of the fanatics are still in Azkaban - for now: one of whom is Regulus and Sirius’s cousin, Bellatrix. Harry had read about her in his third year when he had been researching Sirius: she was involved in torturing Neville’s parents.

He is unaware that he is still holding the pillow.

“Lucius agreed to allow Hedwig through the wards,” Regulus enlightens him. “But it’ll be a day or two before he does. He and Severus are due to leave for Hogwarts in a few days, so he wants to wait until Severus isn’t around to recognise her before Lucius allows Hedwig in.”

“Would Professor Snape even know Hedwig?” Harry questions.

“Hedwig is quite a distinctive owl,” the other wizard points out. “All Order members were instructed to get familiar with her whilst they were guarding you.”’

 Harry snorts. “Not that that worked out well.”

A displeased look crosses Regulus’ face. Mundungus Fletcher, the Order member who was supposed to be guarding Harry at the time, is no longer allowed to enter Headquarters unless for a meeting. Regulus ensured that Kreacher watched him whenever Fletcher arrived and made sure he left with nothing extra. He was a thief, though he had many connections that Dumbledore found useful - as did Fred and George, who managed to get many ingredients at discounted prices.

“Holly loved your pancakes,” Regulus smiles, changing the topic. “She ate the most. She and Nimmy scuffled over who could take the last one.”

“You took the entire batch I made for the Weasleys. There must have been nearly a hundred pancakes,” Harry says incredulously. “Holly might love pancakes, but even she couldn’t have eaten that many.”

Regulus smirks at him with a complicit look.

“Well, Andromeda and I had helped. It’s a pity Molly won’t let you cook anymore because I have a feeling Andromeda would have found excuses to Floo here every day. Then there were Narcissa and Severus. He tried to stop himself when Tonks let slip that you had prepared them, but I saw him sneaking his fair share. Lucius and Draco were lucky to get any. ”

Harry doesn’t speak, and Regulus allows the silence to lengthen before breaking it gently.

“She is being looked after, Harry,” he comforts him. “I know it’s difficult. And so… convoluted. But… you’re not alone in loving her.”

Regulus rises from his chair and sits beside Harry on his bed, resting an arm around his shoulders.

“Would it be better if I don’t…” Harry stops, a lump forming in his throat. “The prophecy- It’s dangerous to be around me. I thought I had Oma, but now… she’s gone. What if -? I don’t know what the prophecy says yet. But it’s got to be down to him or me. He’s not going to give up coming after me.”

He pauses in his ramblings, not daring to look at Regulus, who keeps his arm around him comfortingly.

“Holly shouldn’t be near me. I should... just step aside. She should trust Professor Snape and the Malfoys; now she has you and the Tonks.” Harry rattles on. “She doesn’t need me.”

“That would break her heart,” Regulus tells him quietly. “To lose you. And I know you, Harry. I know you look through your photo album every morning and stare at her picture before you get out of bed. I know you read at least one of her letters every night before sleeping. Every time you cook, you make something you know she likes to eat. She’s your heart. Seeing how much you love her is… inspiring. You didn’t care that Severus is her father, and discovering her paternity didn’t make you love her any less. She loves you just as much as you love her. You couldn’t give each other up if you tried.”

               Harry can’t deny the truth of this statement. As much as he knows that Holly should stay away from him, where she would be safer, the thought of never seeing her again, never speaking to her, fills him with a dread worse than knowing he has a death sentence - courtesy of the prophecy.

               Regulus pulls Harry closer.

               “Whatever the prophecy says, Harry, you are not alone,” he promises in a heartfelt tone. “You have many of us behind you. Understand?”

               Harry leans his head against Regulus’ shoulder and nods, his throat closed in emotion, unable to produce a voice.

        “And you’ll see Holly before you know it,” Regulus squeezes his shoulder comfortingly. “Christmas break will be here before long. And I promise, whatever happens, you and Holly will spend Christmas together.”

               Harry does not doubt it. Regulus has followed through on every promise so far. Just like Iris.

               “And anyway, young man,” the younger Black starts in a mock annoyed voice, “you failed to mention how Holly’s elbows turn into weapons when injections are mentioned.”

               Harry settles back to listen to Regulus describe Holly’s reaction to vaccinations, a gleeful laugh erasing the restlessness of the conversation.

 

ooOoo

 

Holly frantically throws the pillows from her bed, along with the duvet, onto the floor. She is supposed to be packing for the two-week trip to Hogwarts. Mr Snape said she would accompany them until school started, but Holly doesn’t expect to be there for more than two weeks. Although she would have liked to stay there even after the start of the term so she could see Harry sooner than Christmas break, Holly knows Mr Snape will probably send her away before the rest of the students arrive. He will probably only take her with him because she got angry and told him she was his dirty little secret. Maybe she could use the same trick and convince him to keep her at Hogwarts. She would love that: she could stay with Harry the whole year.

               Yet, she couldn’t go until she finds her necklace. She remembers having it last night. She had tucked it away under her pyjama top like she did every night. Holly has always been careful with it since it belonged to Harry’s mum, and she had promised to give it back to him if he ever asked for it. She only took it off in school when she was doing PE classes or gymnastics classes. However, when she was doing her exercises at home, she never took the necklace off. Not even when she is in the bath or shower.

               Her previously packed bag is scattered across the floor as she agitatedly searches through all her belongings for her lily necklace.

               She doesn’t hear the knock on the door or hear it open when she fails to answer.

She does, however, hear Aunt Cissa come as close to shrieking as she pronounces, “What in Morgana’s name happened here? Holly, you should be ready to leave right now!”

 

ooOoo

 

Narcissa is on the verge of telling Holly off, imagining this is either a delaying tactic or a whim to postpone Severus and Lucius’s departure for Hogwarts. Two things stop her. The first is the knowledge that Holly has never thrown objects or broken items or generally made a mess whenever she lost her temper. Never like this. Her room looks like a battle took place.

               The second is her expression as she looks up at Narcissa. She looks heartbroken and frantic.

               “I can’t find it,” Holly blurts out before Narcissa can say anything further.

               The older woman steps forwards cautiously.

               “What are you trying to find?” she asks, looking around the room carefully.

               “My necklace,” Holly cries, returning to her task of rooting through her wardrobe. “Ha – my brother gave it to me. I can’t find it. I wore it last night, but now I can’t find it.”

               Narcissa brings out her wand and beckons Holly to stand by her side.

               “Come here, darling,” she tells the little girl. “I’ll help you find it. All right?”

               Holly reluctantly gives up her search and stands by Narcissa’s side, who places her hand on her shoulder.

               “What does it look like, darling?”

               Holly makes an effort to calm down, wipes away her tears and answers, a little miserably, “It’s a lily pendant with green gems for the stem.”

               “Gold or silver?”

               “Gold.”

               “Do you have any other jewellery?”

               She shakes her head.

               Narcissa has never seen the pendant but hopes it is the only necklace Holly owns that will help with the Summoning Charm.

                Narcissa waves her wand, keeping the description in mind. “Accio lily pendant.”

               Several tension-filled seconds pass before a rattling noise is heard from somewhere under the bed.

               “Well, it seems it’s still in the room,” Narcissa remarks. “Roker.”

               The House-Elf appears straight away.

               “How can I be helping, Mistress?” the creature bows.

               “Tidy up the room, if you will,” Narcissa orders.

               Roker clicks his fingers, and over the next few minutes, the room reverts back to its former orderly state, and while Narcissa dismisses it with a severe nod, Holly offers him a tiny smile.

               Narcissa attempts the Summoning Charm once more, thankfully meeting with more success.

               The pendant comes flying from behind the bed, and she catches it deftly, shocked as she recognises it.

               “Where did you get this?” the woman asks, shaken as she stares at the lily pendant in her hand and turns it over.

               Holly gives her an anxious look, seemingly on the verge of reaching up and snatching it from Narcissa’s hand.

               “My brother gave it to me,” she answers, cautiously reaching for it.

               Narcissa forces a smile onto her face. Holly has made sure never to mention Harry by name to either her or Lucius, but she speaks of the boy in generic terms, at least in front of them - whereas Severus, and Draco, are not even aware of the other boy’s presence in Holly’s life.

               “Let me put it on, darling,” Narcissa offers softly, kneeling in front of Holly, intending to unclasp the chain and do it back up around her neck. However, the chain is big enough to slip straight over the girl’s head.

               “It’s a beautiful necklace,” she comments casually.

               Holly gives her a careful nod but doesn’t volunteer any further information. Narcissa understands from this action that Holly doesn’t trust her fully to confide in her. Yet, there are so many questions that she wants to ask. What she does know is that Severus was the one who bought the pendant for Lily in the first place. Long after the Potions Master had fallen out with Lily, he still painstakingly saved up for it and selected it from the Jewellers in Diagon Alley. Narcissa had been with him when he bought it. Though Severus never outright stated it, it was clear that it was intended for Lily.

               How did it come into Potter’s possession when Narcissa was not even aware that Severus had managed to send it to Lily? In the last six weeks that Holly had been with them, this is the first time she has seen the necklace. She hadn’t even noticed that the little girl wore any jewellery at all.

               “We should get your bag packed again,” Narcissa murmurs when it is evident that no answer will be forthcoming - not that she should have expected any from Holly. What would she know about the intricacies of the past?

               “Sorry,” Holly mumbles, tucking the pendant carefully beneath her clothes. She treats it with care, as if it is something precious. And it is. Severus had worked hard to be able to afford the golden lily: he poured his magic into it.

               They silently repack Holly’s clothes. Holly fastidiously packs her backpack, the bag she came with. Even though she will return before the start of term, she takes those things she deems precious. This includes all her letters from Harry Potter - although she isn’t aware that Narcissa knows.

              

ooOoo

 

Draco looks morosely at the dining table, waiting for his mother to come down with Holly. The younger girl still hasn’t spoken to him properly since the mudblood incident three days ago.

               His parents had given him a stern talk, grounded him from flying for the rest of summer and docked his pocket money until the start of term. He only has a few sickles to his name, but it’s not like he’s allowed to leave the Manor anyway. It’s too dangerous.

               His father and Severus sit at their usual seats, conversing in low tones. They already have had lunch together and are only waiting for Holly to come down. He hopes Holly has unbent in her ire enough to give him a proper goodbye. After all, he’ll not be seeing her until Christmas, and he’s not sure if she’ll write to him during term time.

               He will have to use a school owl if Artemis refuses to let Draco near him. Perhaps, if he tells the owl the letter is for Holly, it might not scratch him with his sharp talons.

               Draco is still lost in his thoughts when his mother enters with Holly, both looking subdued. Lucius and Severus immediately stand up at their arrival. Narcissa hands over Holly’s suitcase, shrunken down to the size of a matchstick, to Severus, who silently places it into his pocket along with his own.

“Are you sure everything’s packed?” his mother asks, looking at his father.

                Lucius gives her an indulgent smile. “Yes, dear,” he says.

               “We should get going,” Severus tells them.

               “Of course,” Narcissa answers smoothly.

               It is an awkward atmosphere. Draco’s parents have never been apart for so long, not as far as he knew. Narcissa became morose towards the end of the summer since Draco turned eleven, ready for Hogwarts. She had firmly put her foot down when Lucius had suggested enrolling him at Durmstrang, saying it was too far. Even though she would not see Draco whilst he attended Hogwarts, at least her owls reached him faster.

               If not for Holly, she would have been alone in the Manor because Lucius is also leaving. Draco is feeling ambivalent about his father’s presence at Hogwarts. On the one hand, he will constantly be around. On the other, earning points and favouritism would ensure Draco would stay ahead of his peers. His father, like Severus, would firmly be on his son’s side.

               Still, that situation leaves his mother alone with Holly, though he knew Narcissa would stay in contact with Regulus and his blood traitor aunt, Andromeda.

               He darts a guilty look to his parents and Severus as if they might have read his mind. He is supposed to avoid words like blood traitor and mudblood, which is why Holly isn’t speaking to him in the first place.

               His parents walk to the Floo room arm in arm; Severus and Holly go next. His godfather looks like he wants to put his arm around Holly but is unsure how the gesture will be received. Draco trails behind.

               They all stop in front of the fireplace. Draco looks away as his parents kiss, while Holly smiles at them, rolling her eyes a little.

               Severus clears his throat pointedly.

               “I’m sure Dumbledore will allow conjugal visits,”  the Potions Master points out.

               Holly looks at Severus with confusion and, perhaps voluntarily addressing him directly for the first time since they’ve met, asks, “What does that mean?”

               Severus looks startled, though Draco isn’t sure if it is because Holly’s there or that she’s asked him directly: in doubt, he holds back a laugh at Severus’s pink face.

               “Yes, Severus,” Lucius deadpans, “what do you mean?”

               “You will understand the word when you’re older, darling,” Narcissa interrupts as Severus looks like he’s about to be trampled down by a herd of hippogriffs.

               Holly lets out an exasperated sigh.

               “Give me a hug, darling,” Narcissa glosses over the whole topic. “We won’t see each other for weeks, and I will miss you terribly.”

               Holly approaches Narcissa, who kneels to pull her close. Lucius gives Draco a one-armed hug, telling him to look after his mother and the Manor. Severus simply pats him on the shoulder, assuring him that they will see each other soon.

               Holly steps between Lucius and Severus, ready to leave, but Narcissa gently admonishes her.

               “Bye, Draco,” Holly says flatly, without turning around, hurting him with her coldness.

               “You’ll love Hogwarts,” Draco says to her back, avoiding looking anyone in the eyes. “I’ll… I’ll miss you.”

               However, Holly says nothing to return the sentiment.

               Severus clears his throat and then holds his hand out to his daughter.

               “You and I shall take the Floo first,” he informs her, though he looks ready to be rejected.

               They all hide their surprise when Holly silently places her hand on Severus’s. He carefully pulls her close and takes a pinch of Floo powder, throwing it into the already lit fire. The flames turn green, and Severus firmly cries out the intended destination, “Hogwarts, Headmaster’s Office.”

               Both his parents give Draco a look of sympathy. Lucius gives them a final hug before he, too, disappears in green flames.

               Draco is left staring at the empty fireplace, wishing Holly had turned around one last time.

              

              

 

 

 

 

 


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