Chapter 29 – Stem the tide

Harry’s excitement rubs off on Holly. She can tell he’s been buzzing about something all day. Hermione and Ron keep sending Harry odd looks throughout the morning, pestering him with questions about why he’s so happy, but he brushes away their questions. All he’ll say is that he has a surprise for Holly but won’t say anything further.

Holly can’t wait for whatever it is. Harry always gives the best surprises, and she knows he won’t disappoint her with this one. Most of the Quidditch team seems to be in on it; only Ron doesn’t seem to know. So Angelina has to assure Ron that it’s not Quidditch related; otherwise, she wouldn’t have cancelled practice that evening.

Ron needs all the help he can get when it comes to Quidditch. Holly watches him play. Ron plays well when he thinks no one’s watching him but struggles even if he thinks someone is observing him. So, the others are trying to focus practice on Ron as much as possible, which is actually making his performance worse – not better. The Chasers and Ron are all getting frustrated.

Despite Angelina’s assurances, Holly believes that Ron still thinks the others have Quidditch practice without him. And that they’ll let Holly come along but exclude him even though he’s the Keeper for the team.

Holly’s been liking Ron less and less since Harry told her and Oma that Ron thought Harry put his name in the Tournament, but she’ll never say so to Harry, though he probably already knows. Harry tries not to hang around with Hermione and Ron when Holly’s there. She likes Neville and Dean, though.

Ron and Hermione seem to treat Harry like only they can be his friends – even though they care about Harry, they don’t like it when he hangs with Neville, Luna, or Holly more than them.

So she’s glad Harry plans not to bring Hermione and Ron to wherever he’s prepared for this evening.

“Something exciting happening today?”  Uncle Luc asks in curiosity in the last class of the day as the students pack away their belongings. He’s clearly noticed Harry’s demeanour.

“Harry has a surprise for me,” she tells him.

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“I don’t know,” she says in exasperation. “It’s a surprise.”

Uncle Luc smiles at her, not offended at being told off.

“You’ll share in the morning, right?”

“I don’t know,” she says mischievously. “What do I get out of it?”

He tweaks her nose playfully, not seeing some of the girls from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girls melt at the sweet gesture as they leave.

“Cheeky brat,” he admonishes playfully. “Get going.”

Giggling, she runs off to join Harry. The students head straight for the Common room to drop off their bags and kill time before dinner is served.

Holly leaves her bag with Uncle Luc, so she follows the girls to their dorms at Lavender’s invitation while Harry goes up to the boy’s side to change out of his uniform.

Hermione leaves her bag on her bed and grabs her change of clothes before she heads for the shared bathroom.

“Come on, Holly,” Lavender beckons, patting her bed. “You can babysit us while Hermione showers and changes.”

Uncle Luc had made them do some practice duelling by learning to dodge, so some students were sweaty. Hermione is strong because of all the books she carries around, but she isn’t used to physical activity like running and dodging.

Holly likes Lavender and Parvati. They’re not as uptight as Hermione. Or look at her like they want her to go away.

“Don’t you get bored sitting in the teacher’s classes all day?” Parvati asks, joining them on Lavender’s bed. “Some of the stuff is really advanced for you, isn’t it?”

“I don’t understand most of it,” Holly shrugs. “I usually have my own work to do.”

Parvati turns away to change behind the curtains of her bed. Much less concerned with modesty, Lavender hops off her bed, waving for Holly to stay, and begins to strip out of her robes and the rest of her uniform.

“But don’t you get bored?” Lavender insists, walking to her wardrobe to grab a long skirt and a top.

“Sometimes,” Holly admits. “I bring a book with me to read if I don’t understand something – or move on to something different – if the teachers are too busy to help me with my work. Then Harry helps me in the evening when he does his homework.”

Lavender nods, having donned her clothes. Parvati emerges from behind her bed, also having changed.

“Yeah,” Parvati smiles, undoing her braids and running her fingers through her hair. Both girls present themselves to Harry every morning before breakfast so he can do their hair. They had done so since they’d seen Harry do Holly’s hair the first day. “We’ve seen Harry helping you. He’s such a sweetheart.”

“Luna’s so lucky to have a boyfriend like Harry,” Lavender agrees, reaching for her lip balm. “They’re so good together. You feel like you’re missing out, Parv? You could have been his girlfriend if things had gone differently after the Yule Ball last year.”

“I don’t think so,” Parvati shrugs. “Harry only asked me because he didn’t know who else to ask.”

Holly only knows a little about the Yule Ball. Harry had liked Cho Chang (who Holly had seen but not spoken to), but she’d agreed to go out with Cedric instead. She remembers Harry’s letters to her and Oma asking about girls and how to ask one out. Oma smiled and told Holly that Harry would have no problems with girls because he’s so thoughtful and sweet.

“He had a good time with you,” Holly pipes up.

Parvati smiles, pleased, “Really?”

Holly nods, “He wrote home and said he had a good time with you and really enjoyed dancing with you.”

Still smiling widely, “I’m glad. I had a good time with Harry, too. I’ve seen him do his gymnastics, so I knew he was good on his feet. I never knew he’d turn out to be such a good dancer.”

“Oma taught us both to dance,” Holly inserts once again. “Like old-timey dancing. We thought it was boring, but Harry said he was glad once he found out about the Yule Ball. But I like dancing. Harry and Dudley always dance with me when I want to practice with them. We have a routine.”

“A routine?” Lavender presses, intrigued. She exchanges a grin with Parvati. “Do you think you can show us?”

“Now?” Holly asks, confused.

“No, later today,” Parvati clarifies, perching on Lavender’s bed next to Holly.

“But Harry’s got a surprise for me. I don’t know what he’s planning or how long it’ll take,” Holly says uncertainly, though she always likes doing the routine with Harry.

“Oh, trust me,” Lavender says breezily, “we’ll also see you later today. So, will you and Harry show us your routine?”

“You know what the surprise is?” Holly questions. Even Ron and Hermione don’t know the surprise.

Lavender winks playfully at her.

“Okay,” Holly agrees. They’ve never shown the routine in front of other people.

“Anyway,” Parvati says, clearing her throat and bringing them back to the topic, “Harry was great at the Ball. I had a much better time than Padma did with Ron.”

“That boy- such an idiot,” Lavender rolls her eyes. “He ruined the Ball for Padma, Hermione and Viktor Krum with his jealousy.”

Parvati and Lavender dart a quick look at the door Hermione disappeared through and relax when they hear the shower still running.

“Hermione was in tears the rest of the night. Padma only salvaged the night because she was asked out by some boys from Beauxbatons,” Parvati told Holly. “And Harry didn’t pitch a fit when some of them asked me to dance with them. That’s how I know that Harry and I would never have worked. There were no sparks. Not like Harry and Luna. Have you seen the way they look at each other?”

The last she directs at her friend.

“After the Duelling club,” Lavender nods enthusiastically, “everyone knows not to mess with Holly or Luna. Edgecombe definitely needed that lesson.”

“Is she the girl who bullies Luna in the Ravenclaw Common room?” Holly questions.

“Yeah,” Parvati nods. “Padma told me a lot of people in Ravenclaw think she’s weird, but most of them stay away from her. But a few like Edgecombe steal her things.”

“Luna’s not weird,” Holly defends. “She’s great. She’s cool.”

The shower turns off, and the older girls pause as they strain to listen to what Hermione might be doing.

“She’s… different,” Lavender smiles, though it’s not a nasty smile, her eyes darting to the door to the bathroom. “Harry and Luna are good for each other.”

“I like Luna,” Holly says stoutly.

“We do, too,” Parvati assures her.

Hermione opens the door and walks out, having changed into fresh clothes and towel-drying her hair.

“… and then, of course, because she showed it to me, I had to have it,” Lavender begins speaking in the middle of a sentence, confusing Holly entirely at the new topic. Lavender picks up a new lipstick, still in its packaging, and waves it in front of Parvati.

“Hm,” Parvati runs with the change without blinking an eye. “I’m not sure that colour would suit you. Not unless you’re wearing that funky blue top to match. You know – the one with the beads on the hems.”

“I don’t know, I don’t really like that top,” Lavender frowns. “It makes me look frumpy. I thought maybe that green one with the blue tye-dye.”

Rifling through Lavender’s makeup drawer, Parvati pulls a random one out, “How about this one?”

“Ooh, that’s pretty. I forgot I had it,” Lavender says in apparent delight.

Holly sees Hermione roll her eyes and clears her throat to get their attention.

“Holly, I’m heading back down now. Let’s go together,” Hermione says, already moving to the door with her book bag.

“Actually,” Lavender says, putting a hand on Holly’s shoulder, not that Holly is inclined to follow Hermione, “Harry asked us to stay with Holly for a bit. You toddle off to the library now.”

Hermione frowns at the shooing motion Lavender makes and the hand she has on Holly’s shoulder.

“Right,” she says in a tight voice and strides out.

“What was that about?” Holly asks when Hermione’s steps fade away.

The older girls hesitate to answer.

“You promise you won’t say anything?” Parvati asks anxiously.

“You don’t like Hermione?” Holly guesses.

“It’s not that we don’t like her,” Lavender rushes to explain. “Well, it’s just – Hermione – well –”

“Hermione thinks we’re silly little girls for caring about makeup and clothes,” Parvati says frankly.

“And boys,” Lavender adds.

“Which isn’t false. But all Hermione cares about is her schoolwork and education,” Parvati says with a sigh.

“Which is fine,” Lavender says. “We care about our school work as well. But we also like having fun.”

“Hermione just takes it too far,” Parvati takes over. “Like, in second year, Lav and I were talking about our transfiguration – changing animals into cups or something – and Hermione heard us. She said it was great we were finally taking our education seriously and offered to study with us. Except, she came up with a complete study plan which was all about studying, every minute of the day.”

Lavender continues, “She treated us like we were stupid and tried to explain the transfiguration theory to us. Except she kept quoting the book back to us. Word for word. And we’re thinking, Hermione, if we want to know what the book says, then we’ll go and read the bleeding book.”

“Hermione is very smart,” Parvati says with a helpless look. “Sure, we’re not clever like her, or you know, get top marks, but we do okay. Hermione tries to be perfect at everything because that’s all she cares about, but we’re not bothered about stuff like that. She just takes over all the time. I dread taking on group projects with her. The last time we had a group project, last year in Charms, she planned out every detail, made us rework our parts because they weren’t written the way she liked them and moaned about how she had to do all the work.”

Warming up to the topic, Lavender declares, “Harry and Ron are saints for putting up with her. They’ve managed to calm her down a little over the years, but the way she nags them, Merlin, I never like being in the Common room around exam time. Harry keeps his head and studies whatever he needs to, though he always has to do it exactly how Princess Hermione likes to study. But Ron has to argue with her about everything – and then – and then still expects her to help him.”

“Do all the work for him, more like,” Parvati inserts.

Lavender continues to rant, “I’m not saying they’re bad. They’re all really loyal to each other and care for each other. The boys were heartbroken when Hermione was Petrified by the basilisk, and Harry had to put up with half the school believing he was the heir of Slytherin. We stood by him, though.”

Holly gives the other girl a quelling look.

“Okay,” Lavender adds sheepishly, blushing at the way she’s being judged by a nine-year-old, “maybe we didn’t in the beginning. We might have thought the others were right because Harry always seemed to be in the thick of it.”

“Harry doesn’t go looking for trouble,” Holly insists fiercely.

“We know,” Lavender agrees softly. “We know that now. We should have realised it was a stupid thing to believe. Harry is – we knew after what happened to Hermione that Harry would never attack anyone. But it shouldn’t have taken Hermione in the hospital wing for us to realise that.”

“Harry’s a protector,” Parvati adds. “We’ve seen that. Third year wasn’t too bad. Harry, Ron and Hermione spent most of it trying to get Hagrid’s hippogriff acquitted, and if Dumbledore’s friend Mr Scamander hadn’t stepped in, Malfoy would have insisted on executing the poor thing. It was Malfoy’s fault that he got attacked in the first place. Hagrid said you should never insult a hippogriff, but Malfoy wasn’t listening.”

“Or he was and did it on purpose to get Hagrid sacked,” Lavender speculates.

“We tried to tell the teachers what really happened,” Parvati continues, still incensed despite the time that had passed since. “Snape wasn’t willing to listen to us.”

“Parv,” Lavender says warningly.

“Snape ignored everything we said in our witness statements and sided with the Slytherins. Because they’re just poor, misunderstood little snakes,” Parvati continues mockingly, ignoring her friend.

“Snape always sides with his Slytherins over every little thing. In Potions, he’s always singling out Harry or poor Neville. He pretends he doesn’t see it when Malfoy throws things in their cauldrons and takes points, and he – ugh, he’s so horrible. Why is he even a teacher? He clearly doesn’t want to be here, so why doesn’t he just leave?”

“Parvati!” Lavender hisses harshly, jerking her head in Holly’s direction.

Parvati stammers in apology, having forgotten who her audience is related to.

“I’m sure you’ve heard worse than that from Harry,” Parvati chuckles weakly, her cheeks darkening even more than her natural colour allowed.

“Harry doesn’t talk about the Professor,” Holly admits, looking away. “Not to me. And you don’t have to tell me he’s horrible. I already know.”

The older girls exchange awkward looks over the top of her head.

“You know, I’ve not heard Harry say anything bad about your dad in years. Ron does most of the complaining,” Parvati says thoughtfully.

“And, you know, your dad,” Lavender hurries to add, “he really cares about you. It was wrong of him to attack Harry the way he did because Harry was only trying to help you, but Professor Snape was obviously worried. He ran to the Hospital wing really quickly to get to you.”

“Harry always protects me,” Holly adds bitterly, tears prickling her eyes, ignoring the rest of the girl’s sentence. “I just wish he would protect himself as well.”

She sniffles as the girls exchange looks of dismay.

“I don’t like it when Harry gets hurt. I have nightmares that my dad hurt him really bad, and then Harry closes his eyes, and he doesn’t open them again, and I keep calling to him, but he won’t wake up,” she admits with a sob. She tries to quiet herself, but she’s not said this aloud to anyone. When she stayed with Uncle Luc during her dad’s suspension, he would come into her room while she was having a nightmare to comfort her; however, she never admitted what she dreamed about.

She wants to tell Harry about it, but she’s afraid it might actually happen and doesn’t want to voice those fears to her brother. What if he did one day fall asleep and not wake up like Oma? What if her dad hurt Harry so bad that Harry would never open his eyes again? She cries harder.

Parvati pulls her closer to comfort her, even as Lavender mutters a heartfelt, “Oh, hell.”

“Call for Harry,” Parvati orders quietly.

Lavender nods frantically and runs to the door, yelling Harry’s name down the stairs.

The next second, the dorms are filled with the eardrum-shattering noise of Caterwauling Charm and Harry’s cursing loudly over all of it. Lavender winces at the noise and the reminder that boys aren’t allowed in the girls’ dorms. It doesn’t occur to either girl, in their panic, to pick up Holly and take her down to Harry instead.

“Holly,” he yells desperately up to the girls’ dorm, the previous stairs replaced by a slide.

They hear Harry’s desperate attempt to come to his sister. The effort to climb up higher is made all the more challenging by the additional Slipping Charm added to the layer of spells. Hermione enjoyed bandying that fact around from her personal bible, Hogwarts: A History, after a Seventh year tried to get to a Sixth-year girls’ dorm last spring.

“I’m so sorry,” Parvati stammers her second apology of the evening as she tries to worriedly calm the distraught girl.

The noise abruptly cuts off, and they are blessed with silence for a fraction of a second until McGonagall’s voice calls out, “What in the world is going on here? Mr Potter, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, hell,” Lavender mutters again, biting her lip.

Holly’s cries have abated into muffled sobs.

“Professor, please. It’s Holly. Lavender called for me, but I can’t get up there,” Harry’s anxious voice drifts up the staircase.

“Wait here,” McGonagall snaps. Seconds later, their Professor appears at the fifth-year girl’s door, brandishing her wand in preparation for a fight, to see her students holding a distressed Holly on Lavender’s bed.

“What happened?” McGonagall asks, still scouting the room for danger.

“Professor – I – We didn’t mean – we were just talking –” Lavender stammers, heart hammering.

Clocking that there is no imminent danger, McGonagall stows her wand away and approaches the trio calmly.

“Holly, darling, what’s wrong?” McGonagall asks in the gentlest tones they’d ever heard.

Holly launches into the older woman’s arms, crying even more desperately as she clings to the cat animagus.

“Harry,” the little girl chokes out.

Understanding, she picks up the child, securing her firmly to her chest, arches a brow at the girls, and orders, “Follow me.”

The girls nod, dismayed, but tail behind their Professor miserably.

Harry is quick to jump towards the Professor, carrying his sister – the worry and fear etched on his face.

“What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He rattles off the question in rapid succession.

Holly reaches for her brother. McGonagall easily lets her go, but the girl can’t stop her tears.

“What happened?” Harry demands again, holding Holly close to his chest.

His eyes land on Parvati and Lavender.

The girls quail at the fire in the boy’s eyes. They’d both been there on Saturday, had seen what the Boy-Who-Lived did to the Slytherin Seventh-year. Harry walked around like he was mild-mannered and easy-going, but there were occasions when he was close to unleashing his powers on all.

“Harry always protects me.”

Holly’s words, said minutes earlier, echo in Lavender’s mind.

“We didn’t mean – we were just talking,” Parvati manages to gasp out, trembling with those green eyes directed at her.

“What did you do?” Harry demands immediately, taking the wrong interpretation of their words.

The girls flinch as if expecting an attack, something Harry looks ready to do, even with McGonagall’s presence, which doesn’t seem to deter him. However, he holds back in favour of keeping Holly closer to him.

“We didn’t hurt her, we swear,” Lavender gulps.

“Perhaps we should take this to my office,” McGonagall interrupts.

Lavender takes a belated look around the Common room. All the Weasleys are there, looking ready to follow, but a quelling look from their Head of House stays them. Hermione’s already gone, to the library, probably.

Still, plenty of other students are around, all looking around in concern. Never have Lavender or Parvati been the subject of gossip like this. It’s odd being on the receiving end, and suddenly, Lavender realises what people like Harry are subjected to. They don’t know what’s going on and can only speculate. This – she grasps – is how baseless rumours begin.

The girls cling to each other as they are led down to McGonagall’s office, past various students and portraits who take in McGonagall’s stiff expression, Parvati and Lavender’s fearful demeanour, Harry’s protective stance as he carries his sister, who’s clinging to the boy and quite visibly weeping.

The obvious conclusion would be that the girls have hurt the child and are being led to their doom.

Upon entering, McGonagall moves to sit beside Harry and Holly instead of behind her desk, and though she waves for Lavender and Parvati to sit, they elect to stand, still clinging to each other.

“What happened?” McGonagall asks, calmer than Harry.

Parvati and Lavender exchange silent glances.

Lavender loses the silent battle and begins to explain, “We were getting ready for the evening ahead and just talking. Professor Snape came up.”

Lavender flushes bright red as McGonagall’s knowing look shows she understands the exact nature of what that conversation might have entailed.

“Did he hurt you?” Harry demands of his sister. “You said you’d tell me if he hurt you. Did he?”

He looks furious enough to march down to the dungeons to hex the Potions Master to pieces. Harry would do anything for Holly – even duel her father.

“No, he hurt you,” Holly wails, unburying her face from his shoulder only to bury it back again.

Harry freezes, his anger morphing to confusion before their eyes. He pulls Holly even closer as she sobs harder.

“But that was weeks ago,” he says, looking uncertainly at McGonagall.

“Holly said she was having nightmares. Where Sn- her da – he would hurt you,” Lavender stumbles over how to refer to Snape. Anyone with brains saw how she never addressed him with paternal familiarity – today had been the first time anyone had heard her say the words ‘my dad’.

“She said she was afraid he would hurt you and that you’d never open your eyes again,” Parvati adds in a small voice.

Harry’s expression melts into something close to understanding.

“Miss Brown, Miss Patil, you may leave. Thank you for looking after Holly as you have. I’ll see you later,” McGonagall adds.

ooOoo

Minerva waits until the girls have left before getting up from her seat next to Harry and Holly to move to the one behind her desk.

It gives the children a semblance of privacy, and Minerva can truly observe their relationship. She summons a House-elf for some beverages.

She recognises that only Harry can address his sister’s fears, leaving them to talk it out for themselves.

She’s observed Harry on and off since the first time he’d stepped foot in Hogwarts. Had Minerva not fallen ill with the flu, she would have been the one to collect him from his relatives instead of Hagrid. She’d watched the boy act like any other student at the Welcoming Feast, nervous and excited. Away from his family and on his own.

He’d been independent from the start, though he’d made fast friends with Ron Weasley. She’d been disappointed initially with his classwork, seeming to lack effort, though it was clear he understood the material and simply took his cue from his friend to leave his homework to the last minute possible.

He’d begun to put effort into his work sometime around mid-October after he’d been made Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team; otherwise, she might have attributed that change to the inclusion of Miss Granger.

Indeed, being friends with Hermione Granger had helped Mr Weasley shape up, though he still put minimal effort into his work.

She’d been happy to see Harry well-adjusted, despite her fears of the Dursleys that night they left him on their doorstep. She’d wanted to check up on him so many times, but the first year was taken up with getting back to a semblance of normality after the war. She’d been a witness in several high-profile trials and visited many grieving families. There’d been so much to do in the aftermath that, as bad as it sounded, Harry living with muggles slipped her mind despite his fame in the wizarding world.

She’d simply moved on with her life, wrapped up with the school and her own family.

Harry seemed happy enough. She’d been relieved to see he had a good relationship with his family. With a bit of probing, she had discovered that the Dursleys told Harry little of the Wizarding world. Hagrid had said they were awful when he’d gone to collect the boy from some godforsaken hut in the middle of the sea. Yet, things seemed to have settled. The boy’s family wrote to him often enough. His owl, bearing letters and care packages, was a regular feature at breakfast time. She’d been relieved to see how wrong she’d been about the Dursleys and put Hagrid’s rantings down to the shock of seeing a man his size suddenly descend on them. She can’t even remember how she justified why it had taken several thousand letters for him to get his Hogwarts letter, but she’d justified it somehow. She’d been wrong. So, so wrong.

Harry had traits from both his parents, in that he is as intensely loyal to friends as they had been. He was clever and resourceful. Driven and a hard worker – she’d seen the effort Harry put into his school work and Quidditch practice. The boy was a natural on a broom, and his training in gymnastics also paid off. She’d seen him perform his gymnastics many times, watching in the beginning when he’d asked for space under a Disillusionment Charm.

At eleven, the boy didn’t realise it, but he was a natural leader, also. She’d considered him an asset to her House. She’d recognised Miss Granger’s words after the troll incident had been a lie, though she’d made discreet enquiries about the truth after the fact and kept an eye on the trio, who seemed to have firmly cemented a friendship on the back of an otherwise traumatic event. In the end, after much internal debate, she decided not to pursue Mr Weasley’s words and their impact on Hermione Granger, given how close the three had become.

She remembered her anger a few months down the line, upon discovering they’d been out of bed, leading on Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom about a dragon. Students out of bed after curfew wasn’t new. Most students, having the freedom away from parents, push boundaries in various ways and staying out later than allowed is just one of few.

She’d come down quite harshly on all of them, taking more points than the infraction required. She’d lost her temper, something she’s still ashamed of.

Harry, being the well-known student he was due to his fame, had taken the brunt of the taunts. She’d seen the impact of it on him at the time. The way the Houses, including his own, had turned against him. Pomona and Filius had questioned her curiously, wondering about her harshness, but out of pride, she’d refused to back down. Even after finding out, when Hagrid let it slip, that there had, in fact, been a dragon in the school and how two of the three had been trying to get it out of the castle. She had no doubt that if Weasley hadn’t been in the Hospital Wing, which Poppy later confirmed was definitely a dragon bite, not the dog bite the redhead claimed, the boy would have gone with them. And poor Neville had been somehow dragged into the whole ordeal trying to help his Housemates.

They’d suffered because of her, but she’d been too proud to unbend and apologise, deciding to let things stand, delivering a harsh but deserved lesson. Idiotically, she hadn’t even put up a token argument when Albus suggested sending them out to the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid to look for the creature harming unicorns.

It hadn’t been until Kettleburn had pointed out the sheer stupidity of this action. She’d punished four students who’d been out after curfew, apparently chasing a dangerous creature, by giving them detention after curfew to chase after a dangerous creature. One that was harming unicorns.

She shakes her head at the memory.

Draco Malfoy had been most vocal in his complaints about this, and Miss Granger had grumbled about this also. However, Harry and Neville had simply got on with it, as if they knew arguing against unfair punishments would get them nowhere.

She’d made mistake after mistake that year and then compounded it all after the trio came to her telling her the Stone was in danger. She dismissed their warnings and told them not to worry. What a fool she’d been. Seeing her doing nothing, they’d taken matters into their own hands and seemed to have set a precedent for the following years. They’d never come to her with anything so important ever again. At least, Harry hadn’t. Miss Granger intervened on his behalf when he received the Firebolt, which seemed to have rocked their friendship considerably- it had taken months for them to come back to talking terms.

However, at the end of Harry’s first year, Poppy had come to her, dropping dragon-sized hints that all was not well with the boy’s home life. That didn’t tally with the memory of Harry’s owl carrying letters all year round, but Poppy had been adamant, bound by a promise to the boy.

Minerva had tried to look into it and resolved to ask the boy about it on his return to school the following year. Harry had been reticent about his home life, and Minerva immediately recognised the cagey demeanour despite his not revealing anything. Minerva had been wrong. Poppy had been right. However, without Harry admitting to anything, they could do nothing except heal the boy when he needed it. Poppy had a separate stock of Nutrient potions, which the boy desperately needed.

In fact, Minerva thinks wryly, there had been a noticeable increase in healing potions since Harry entered the school. Eighty percent of these had been due to gym-related injuries, surpassing Quidditch-related injuries by a whopping seventy-three percent. Justifying that to the board had been a pain in the backside, but Hogwarts has always been self-sufficient regarding more than half of the potion ingredients required.

Minerva tried to help Harry over the years but knows she’s failed horribly every step of the way. From the revelation of his being a Parselmouth, to his entry into the Triwizard Tournament, the boy had suffered at the hands of the students many times. She’d confiscated many Potter Stinks badges last year, appalled at the cruelty of the others. Hufflepuff is the House that is often overlooked – it had been more than fifty years since the Hufflepuffs won the House Cup or been recognised for some achievement.

Having a Hufflepuff in the Triwizard Tournament was their moment to shine- until Harry’s rotten luck came through again. Even Pomona had been angry at Harry and treated the boy as she believed he’d done it for the attention. Minerva had felt helpless then as well, but it had been the students in the UMPA club who’d rallied behind the boy and showed him he wasn’t alone – and done a much better job than any of the teachers who were supposed to protect their students.

When Lucius told Minerva at the end of the summer of Harry’s connection to Holly, she realised who the boy had been writing to since his first year. His relatives treated him deplorably, but he’d found his own family. When Lucius asked to protect Harry and Holly from Severus, Minerva agreed without hesitation. Minerva failed Harry time and time again, but in this, she’d vowed she wouldn’t let him down again. Harry’s never asked for help with anything of importance, but this she will give without him needing to ask.

However, seeing Holly’s distress at the memory of her brother’s injury at the hands of her father and seeing her resilience break – Minerva feels she’s failing already.

The children deserved some happiness. Harry doesn’t deserve to be hurt by those who are supposed to protect him. Holly doesn’t deserve to live in fear of losing the only family she’s relied on since she can remember.

Shaking her thoughts, she comes back to see that Harry has succeeded in assuring Holly – for now, at least.

“Have I ever broken a promise to you?” he’s asking the little girl.

Holly shakes her head, taking a shuddering breath. “No,” she squeaks and then sniffs.

Minerva conjures a handkerchief and levitates it over the siblings. Harry gives her a grateful look and gently wipes his sister’s tears.

“Come on, blow your nose into this, Snotty,” he teases gently.

She takes the handkerchief from him and blows her nose – loudly, rubbing her already red nose to shine even brighter.

“Come on, love,” Minerva beckons the little girl, “we’ll go to my rooms. You can use the bathroom and wash your face. Mr Potter, you may want to clean yourself and prepare our drinks. I like my tea with two sugars and a splash of milk, please.”

Holly – reluctantly and only because Harry encouraged her – hops off his lap and follows Minerva through the discreet door in the corner of her office leading to her private quarters. Minerva gently helps Holly clean her face.

“I won’t allow Severus to hurt Harry either,” Minerva whispers her promise to the child.

Holly nods shakily, more tears threatening to spill, but bravely holds back her tears.

Making sure the child is presentable, she leads them back to her office, where Harry has followed instructions to a tee. He’s cleaned off evidence of Holly’s breakdown from his shirt and prepared tea for Minerva and a glass of milk for Holly and himself.

Before taking her seat, Minerva reaches for her tartan tin and opens it to reveal ginger biscuits, a recipe from her father’s side of the family.

“Thank you,” Holly says in a quiet, polite voice as she reaches for one, then settles back onto Harry’s lap rather than take a chair.

Her brother doesn’t protest, seeming to know that the child needs to have contact with him. Minerva bites into her own biscuit with a small smile, watching the boy coaxing his sister into sipping her milk. Her biscuits are running low, but the House-Elves know to keep her tin stocked at all times. However, she does make a mental note to speak to the elves about the Gryffindor Common Room. Despite her haste, she had noticed the scruffy state beyond the mess teenagers usually generated. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. She hoped none of the elves had fallen sick. It’s rare for it to happen, but occasionally, when they were ill, it hit many of them simultaneously, given their close quarters. On the occasions when the elves did fall sick, they usually quarantined themselves in-house and let Poppy know.

However, the Matron hadn’t mentioned any illness among the elves, as it usually impacted the rest of the castle’s upkeep. When too many elves fell ill to do their duties, it usually fell onto the healthy ones to keep up with the vital responsibility of ensuring the students and faculty had their meals on time until the others recovered. Albus is very strict about ensuring the elves take the time to recover and gives the healthy ones time off after their fellow elves are well enough to take over their jobs again.

The elves protest this every time and often spend their time off – actually, Minerva doesn’t know what the elves do with their time off. The House-elves are highly self-sufficient and prefer to keep their secrets about what they do when not allowed to work.

“Harry,” Holly’s voice breaks into Minerva’s thoughts, “do I still get my surprise?”

“You still want it?” he asks.

She nods, looking a little more animated than she had minutes before.

“I also think I deserve blueberry pancakes,” she adds, then stuffs the last of her ginger biscuit in her mouth.

“We’ll have blueberry pancakes in the morning,” Harry acquiesces.

Holly’s smile is broader now.

“With whipped cream?”

“With whipped cream,” the boy adds indulgently, wiping crumbs from her mouth with his fingers.

“Now, where’s my surprise?” the child asks, her voice deliberately bright.

It saddens Minerva to see this innocent trying to push her suffering aside and posing a cheerful outlook she probably doesn’t feel. An adult action that no child should have to project.

“You sure you want it today? We can go when you’re feeling better,” Harry checks, showing how in tune he is with the child’s feelings.

“Pleeeeeaaasssseeee?” she pleads.

“What do you think, Professor?” Harry chuckles and exchanges a look with Minerva.

Minerva checks the time. The UMPA club has already started, but they are not overly late.

“I think we should get going if Holly wants her full surprise,” Minerva smiles.

“You know what my surprise is?” Holly asks in shock, the rest of her upset melting away at realising Minerva is included in the surprise.

Winking at the child, Minerva smoothly rises to her feet, brushing her robes of crumbs and banishes the tea set away.

“Come on,” she prompts the girl, who’s now staring between Harry and Minerva with her mouth open.

“Does everyone know?” she demands, but she obligingly gets off Harry’s lap and immediately takes his hand when he, too, stands up.

As they exit Minerva’s office, Holly’s nose is still red, her eyes still slightly swollen, and her cheeks have a light flush, but the cat animagus is heartened to see the child bouncing with genuine excitement.

Minerva can see Harry is getting excited as well, eager to see his sister’s reaction to the UMPA club. The club has taken years to get to where it is today. Whether he intended it to be the popular club it is today, Harry unknowingly began something of a revolution. The only thing that upsets Minerva about the UMPA club is the need for secrecy; however, given the initial violence that some members suffered in the early stages, Minerva fully supports the club.

All the other clubs currently open have an open-door policy. Only the UMPAs have a strict membership policy, and not even all teachers are aware of its existence.

Minerva finds herself picking up her pace, eager to attend the first meeting of the year. Another thing that made the UMPA club different from all other clubs offered at Hogwarts, was that it met every day rather than on specific days of the week like all others.

The Room of Requirement comes into view. She and Filius had spent much of their spare time studying this room but had never fully understood how it operated or the magic that drove it. It would be impossible to replicate, and Filius continued to study it every chance he got. It was the perfect place for the UMPAs to meet as the room itself met every requirement it was asked of.

They stopped outside the room, the door already visible to them as the meeting had already started. However, the door would only appear to those who specifically asked for the UMPA room, and to stop the room from being abused by students looking to meet up for post-curfew trysts, Filius had placed wards around the corridor for specific times to prevent others from accessing it.

“This,” Minerva announces as Holly turns to her expectantly, “is the Room of Requirement. This is the room where we hold our daily meeting for the UMPA club. Ready for your surprise, pet?”

Holly nods eagerly.

Minerva opens the door and gestures for the youngsters to enter ahead of her. Hand in hand, the two walk in and Minerva closes the door firmly behind them.

“Welcome,” Harry declares, “to the Underground Muggleborn Performance Arts Club.”

“SURPRISE!”

Minerva can’t help but beam in pride at the astonished look on their youngest member’s face.

ooOoo

Holly’s aware her jaw is on the floor as practically half the school yells their enthusiastic greeting. She clutches Harry’s hand tightly, who beams at her, enjoying her reaction.

“What is this? Underground-?” she stutters.

Harry directs her towards the front of the crowd.

“Just listen,” Harry tells her.

She silently follows Harry to wherever he’s leading her.

Her eyes widen as she realises that Uncle Albus is standing on a stage, waiting for everyone’s attention to be directed at him.

“Welcome, all, to the first meeting of our fifth year of Underground Muggleborn Performance Arts club,” Uncle Albus beams at the crowd, smiling widely at the whoops and cheers from the students. “I’m pleased to see that the club is steadily climbing in numbers, and today, we shall induct several more members.”

Uncle Albus steps aside to allow Aunt Min to begin the induction of the new members. Including Holly, she sees there are fifteen new members, one of whom is Ginny, who looks just as surprised at the whole atmosphere.

Holly listens in astonishment at the number of sub-groups in the club, which include but aren’t limited to Martial Arts, Photography, Writing, Art, Communications, Drama and many more. Holly’s favourite, though, and likely the reason Harry wanted her to join in the first place, is the Dance group.

“Dance group? They have a dance group?” she squeals in excitement. “Where? I want to join that.”

Induction over and all new members introduced to the group at large, Holly impatiently follows Harry through the crowd where the dance section is located.

“Parvati!” Holly exclaims.

“Welcome to the dancers, Holly,” Parvati beams in pride.

Holly hugs Harry and declares, “This is the best surprise ever!”

And thus, Holly spends the next hour with the dance group, learning some of their moves and teaching them some of her own. Harry stays with her the whole time but doesn’t join in.

Fred and George swing by, but they’re more interested in the Communication and Entertainment group, which Fred explains is working on coming up with something similar to television. Lee Jordan, who would one day like to become a sports commentator, is helping the twins test various different products they’ve made to communicate but are struggling to cover the distance. Holly doesn’t understand all of it but hopes they succeed. It would be great if they could have TV or Films one day.

Ginny stayed for the dance group for maybe half an hour but then joined some other girls and boys in the Sewing and dress-making group.

Colin Creevey, part of the Photogrpahy group, moves around the room the whole night and takes many photographs.

Lavender insists that Holly join the photos, and Holly beams in every single one.

“Professor Flitwick wants to put on a play this year,” Lavender tells Holly at one point when they take a break and sit at one of the tables in the makeshift break area where food and drinks are provided. The UMPA club, Holly discovers, runs from 5pm to 9pm, seven nights a week. Not everyone comes every night, but because most members stay from the beginning to the end, the professors elected to have dinner served there for those who didn’t go to the Great Hall. It wasn’t as formal as dinner in the Great Hall. Instead, it was served buffet style but only for the same amount of time in the Hall.

“What kind of play?” Holly asks before gulping down her water. Dancing with the group for the last hour or so is as tiring as gymnastics, but she’s thoroughly enjoying herself. She’s always loved dancing; the faster the music, the better. Harry’s also good at dancing, better than he thinks; however, he doesn’t like it as much as Holly, but he’ll always join if she asks. It’s a trade-off. Harry loves gymnastics more and is better at that than Holly.

“I don’t think they’ve decided yet,” Pamela says. Pamela Perez is a sixth-year Ravenclaw and is brilliant at salsa dancing. Angelina and Alicia have both been learning Salsa from Pamela for two years.

“They’ll probably pick something out in the next couple of weeks,” Alicia speculates. “Professor Sinistra said they want everyone to settle into a routine first and then see who’s interested.”

“I’ve heard they’re going to get all the UMPAs in the groups involved,” Lavender shares.

Holly giggles at being called a UMPA. It explained why only some people from the Duelling club had been singing the Oompa Loompa song. The UMPA club is one of the best-kept secrets at Hogwarts.

“It would make sense,” Angelina says, smiling at Holly’s amusement. “The Art group could do the backdrop and the sets. Probably the props as well. It’ll probably be a musical. Professor Flitwick will insist on it.”

“Yeah,” Lavender laughs good-naturedly, “like Professor Flitwick needs an excuse for a choir performance.”

“But a play would be brilliant,” Pamela gushes. “We could use dance to tell a story. And Seamus’s grandmother bought him new shoes for dancing, so he can do that tap dancing thing he does.”

Katie laughs, “Don’t let him hear you call it that.”

Pamela shrugs unconcernedly with an impish grin. She reaches for the pumpkin juice instead.

Lavender changes the subject suddenly, announcing, “Did you guys know Harry and Holly have a dance routine?”

“Whaaaat?” Angelina says incredulously. “No way! Seriously?”

“Almost five years we’ve been dancing,” Alicia exclaims, “and not once has that boy joined the Dance group.”

Angelina shakes her head in mock disappointment.

“Soooo,” Pamela says, coming in closer, “what’s this routine? Ballroom? Cha-cha?”

Holly shrugs and reaches for a plate of biscuits, “Oma taught us to Swing.”

Pamela and Lavender gasp, “Swing? You guys swing dance? Show us, please.”

Holly turns in her seat to see Harry. He’s sitting with Luna in the art section; however, seeming to sense Holly’s gaze, he turns around and gives her a questioning look. Holly beams at him and gives him a wave.

Having followed the direction she was looking in, Lavender demands, “Well? Aren’t you going to call him over?”

“No,” Holly says firmly. “Harry likes dancing sometimes, but it’s not his favourite thing. Harry does a lot of things to keep me happy, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to ask him to do stuff he’s not comfortable with. And Harry doesn’t like dancing in front of other people.”

The girls exchange looks with each other but don’t argue or insist.

“Holly, you little cutie,” Lavender sighs, “you’re more mature than I am.”

Holly beams at them, taking the compliment.

“You and Harry are lucky to have each other,” Angelina says earnestly.

Half an hour later, Holly reluctantly leaves the Room of Requirement, walking alongside Aunt Pomona down to the dungeons. It’s almost her curfew, and Harry insisted she return on time. Besides, the UMPAs meet daily, and Holly can return at any time. Harry’s Housemates volunteered to walk down with Holly anytime Harry was not available.

Holly doesn’t know how much Harry trusts anyone else to look after her. He’s always been protective. Holly happily skips along, bouncing and dancing and humming – until they reach the first floor. At which point, she slowly comes back down to earth, remembering her earlier upset about Harry and her father.

Pomona notices her change in demeanour but doesn’t push immediately. It’s only when they reach the entrance to the dungeons that Holly stops completely.

“Holly?” Pomona asks in concern, stopping with her. “Are you okay?”

Holly nods, looking in the direction of the rooms she shares with her father. She slowly begins to walk again, Pomona adjusting her stride accordingly. They’ve not even gone five feet before Holly freezes again.

“What’s wrong, pet?” Pomona bends down to Holly’s level.

Holly shakes her head, but she can’t make herself move forward. Her earlier fears make her tremble.

“I don’t want to go down there,” Holly says in a wobbly.

“Why not?” Pomona asks.

However, Holly can’t voice those fears a second time.

“Please don’t make me go back there,” Holly begs.

Pomona looks set to argue but, looking at how close to tears the child is, gives in.

“Let’s go to Uncle Luc,” Pomona concedes.

Pomona knows she’s made the right decision when they turn away from the dungeons and head back to the fourth floor to Lucius’s quarters.

Minerva had told Pomona about the incident in the Gryffindor dorms, which had caused her lateness. The UMPA club is enjoyed by all students and teachers who are in the know about it, and Minerva is practically a founding member.

Harry, particularly, wanted to induct Holly into the club immediately, but all students were forced to wait until the teachers could get back into a routine following the start of school.

It breaks Pomona’s heart to see Holly and Severus at odds with each other. They both have so many issues to work through and trust to repair. It’s clear to anyone with eyes that Severus loves his daughter, but her actions in tricking him into keeping her at Hogwarts have him questioning her every motive. Yet, because he’s the adult, he’s expected to let it go, but Pomona sees him struggling.

However, she knows it will take time for father and daughter to work through their hurts.

Coming to a standstill in front of Lucius’s door, Pomona knocks quietly and waits for it to open. The wait is too long for Holly, who bangs on the door almost desperately. The door opens almost immediately, Lucius looking a little irritated at the noise. That is until he spots an upset Holly, who immediately throws herself at him.

“What happened?” Lucius demanded, worry making his voice sharp. He doesn’t wait for an answer as he picks up the shaking child, holding her close.

Expecting Pomona to follow, he leaves the door open for her.

Pomona leaves Lucius’s quarter half an hour later to speak to Severus. Holly has well and truly broken her curfew, the first time she has ever done so. The Herbology professor admits to herself that she isn’t looking forward to breaking the news to Severus. Upon reaching Severus’s room, she takes a deep breath to steel herself before raising her hand to knock on the door- only for it to be yanked open almost aggressively.

Severus stops short at seeing her but quickly gathers her wits.

“Pomona, apologies, now’s not a good time for a chat,” Severus tells her as he brushes past her, closing the door behind him with a snap. “Holly’s not returned and I need to speak to Minerva about fetching her from Gryffindor Tower or wherever she is.”

“Holly’s not with Harry,” Pomona informs him, freezing in his tracks, having to quickly add, “She’s with Lucius,” so Severus doesn’t jump to false conclusions.

This doesn’t seem to have worked as Severus snaps, “It’s Potter’s day. Why has he fobbed off his responsibility to Lucius?”

Bizarrely, Severus doesn’t look upset at the change in custody. If anything, he seems triumphant, which he hides quickly.

“I need to speak to you, Severus,” Pomona says firmly. “Privately.”

Finally sensing something off, Severus moves back to his entrance, opens the door and gestures for her to precede her.

“Tea?” he offers, leading her to the kitchenette.

“If you don’t mind,” Pomona accepts.

Severus busies himself with making tea, taking his time and no doubt gathering his thoughts. When he brings the tea set to the table, he’s considerably more subdued.

“What’s happened?” he asks quietly, hands automatically moving to make her a cup to her liking.

Pomona waits until he’s made a cup for himself (though he makes no move to touch it otherwise) and takes three steady sips of her own before answering.

“Holly ... had a breakdown earlier,” Pomona begins, not looking at Severus. The other wizard hates pity, and Pomona only has pity to offer. “She was – afraid you would hurt Mr Potter again.”

“Why would she think that?” Severus’s head snaps up.

Pomona can guess what Severus is thinking. It seems to be instinct for Severus to blame Harry for all his ills.

Still, she isn’t cowed by Severus’s stare and challenges him with a, “Why do you think?” until he lowers his gaze again.

“I regret… hurting – the boy,” Severus admits slowly.

“Does Holly feel that?”

His silence is answer enough.

“I thought we were getting on better, connecting,” Severus confesses, not looking at her.

He begins to fidget, and Pomona is astonished to realise that she has never seen the self-possessed young wizard ever do that. He’s always been in control of himself, as if fidgeting and fretting are beneath him. Severus has always been private, and though no one outright stated it, it is obvious to anyone that Holly and Severus didn’t know each other that well.

Pomona would even go as far as speculating that Severus didn’t even know he had a child until recently, not that he ever confirmed that. Until now.

“I visited her home in Surrey,” he says suddenly, “where she lived with her grandmother. Her grandmother bought her a small desk. I thought I’d bring it back for her.”

Pomona lets him speak.

“She – she loved it. When I gave it to her yesterday, she was happy, and she laughed and told me a story of how her grandmother struggled to put it together. I’ve never heard her laugh before. Not like that.”

Not with me, are the unspoken words.

Pomona takes another sip of her tea before speaking, keeping her voice gentle and non-judgmental, for Severus has been judged enough these last few weeks. “I don’t fully understand what’s happened between you and Holly, or how Holly came to know Mr Potter, but I’ve seen enough that those two dote on each other.”

Severus takes a shuddering breath, and Pomona thinks he might be on the verge of confiding in her. She pauses a beat, then two. When several seconds pass, she understands that Severus won’t be unburdening himself to her now, if ever, so she continues.

“I’ve seen a change in her demeanour towards you. It’s not something huge, admittedly, but it’s enough. Also, you shouldn’t get discouraged by steps backwards. As I said earlier, I don’t know everything, and I don’t need to. However, you just need to consider how traumatised that child is. I know she’s lost her grandmother, witnessed her passing even. Perhaps her desk triggered a release that was long coming, and she’s beginning to feel safe enough to share those feelings now.”

Severus nods jerkily, a look of dawning taking over.

“Her grandmother was important to her, as is Mr Potter. You seem to be an unknown element to her that she’s still trying to understand. You’ll talk it out eventually. It’ll take time. One day, you’ll be important to her as well.”

“I don’t know how to talk to her. Or what about,” the Potions Masters confesses.

“Start with her mother,” Pomona suggests innocently. “I understand she died when Holly was quite young.”

“What?” Severus stutters as if she’s asked him to sleep with Devil’s Snare.

“Her mother,” Pomona repeats patiently. “Holly’s been asking what her mother, Jasmine, was like as a student. I don’t recall the girl all that well, but Filius had been her Housemaster, so he’s been telling Holly whatever he can remember about his student.”

“I didn’t know Jasmine as a student. She was several years below me,” Severus acknowledged, his face curiously pale. “By the time I became a teacher, she’d already graduated. I didn’t know her until some years after that.”

“From what Filius shared, Jasmine was a bright, compassionate student. She was a prefect in her NEWTs years. Filius said she had some political aspirations but couldn’t recall what. Just that he believed she would succeed. She passed seven NEWTs.”

Taking in Severus’s blank expressions, she says, “You didn’t know any of that?”

“No,” he admits stiffly.

“What earth did you talk about with the girl?” Pomona questions.

“We didn’t really talk,” he says, then freezes in mortification.

“Didn’t talk? What else did you do?” Pomona says, but the question barely escapes her mouth before she backtracks, “Never mind. I can guess.”

To her astonishment, Severus seems to be blushing. The sight startles her so much that a chortle escapes her without permission.

“I think it’s time you left,” he mumbles without looking at her.

“Oh, Severus,” Pomona sighs in amusement, not the least bit offended at being cast out. She’s learned something about her colleague today, which wasn’t altogether unpleasant.