Chapter Text
Neither of her professors had seen fit to inform her much of what the entire matter was about, only giving her an address: 12 Grimmauld Place, London. It was the Black’s ancestral home, McGonagall explained. That was revealing although Holly tried to keep her face straight. She’d suspected it was likely related to Sirius, but her Transfiguration professor was reluctant to divulge the reason for the trip and it’s not like she could ask Snape of all people. He was more likely to offer a scathing insult about either her, Sirius Black, or her father randomly.
“Please grab onto one of us so we can Apparate there.” McGonagall instructed her primly.
Between latching onto either her Potions or Transfiguration professor, the choice was obvious. She’d prefer Professor McGonagall any day, any month, any week. Snape seemed to be subdued in a non-threatening way, he didn’t look like he was plotting to ruin her life but appearances could be deceiving. In fact, Snape was being remarkably patient by his standards. He usually loudly and descriptively proclaimed how Holly was an imbecile, idiot, fool in many different variations, but right now it was just subtext as he critically examined her from head to toe, his nose scrunched with disdain.
Yes, she wasn’t going to chance breaching his personal bubble. Holly took another step closer to Professor McGonagall, clasping the older woman’s arm firmly with her other hand holding her smaller suitcase tightly and Hedwig’s cage snugly tucked under her arm.
“Hold on tight and Do Not let go, Ms. Potter.” The woman warned sternly.
“Take care not to lose your breakfast.” Snape added unhelpfully.
Holly grimaced in response. That made her even more nervous, she eyed his back resentfully watching him until he disappeared with a sharp crack like a gunshot. McGonagall held her wand, channeling the power to the tip of the wand and--
Ron had told her about Apparition before: that it was the worst nausea you would ever feel, that you’d feel your entire body being tugged in every which way. Flooing was out of the question unfortunately. The moment she’d been packed up, her aunt had basically thrown them out on their arses, eager to get rid of them. They’d have to fight their way back in and while it’d be entertaining to watch Snape blast down a door, she’d rather have a house to return to instead of smoldering ashes. Plus, her relatives would blame her and hold her accountable. Somehow. So bracing herself for discomfort, she tightened her hold on Professor McGonagall’s arm.
Just like how he’d described it, she’d felt like a rubber band being tugged in all directions, her head pounded, she could see colors and shapes blurring past her, but she couldn’t grasp what they were. She tried to keep focus on her hand still holding onto McGonagall and the reassuring weight of Hedwig’s cage--
A crack sounded, cutting through. Then everything snapped back into clarity, and her body rubber-banding back into place.
Her legs immediately crumpled beneath her when they landed, weak from the dizziness. She’d let go of McGonagall’s arm as she bent down and dropped Hedwig’s cage haphazardly. The snowy owl let out a protesting hoot. She was reluctantly grateful towards Snape for the warning, but that didn’t magically vanish the nausea away. Wobbling slightly on shaky feet, Holly steadied herself by gripping at the nearby furniture for balance which happened to be a wooden table.
“Holly!”
“Geez, Hermione. Give her some space.”
She whipped her head to the side, nearly butting the taller girl in the process and getting a mouthful of bushy brown hair. Hermione was crouched besides her, hands hovering over her. Ron stood by her side, looking Holly up and down with narrowed eyes. Distracted and still disoriented, Holly put more of her weight on the table. Out of the corner of her eye, a white shape teetered and wobbled precariously at the edge, before tipping off the table.
Her hands reflexively shot out to catch the object before it fell to the ground. A porcelain vase rested in her grasp covered in beautiful illustrations rendered in light blue glaze. She couldn’t help the sigh of relief she let out from her heart. Knowing the Blacks, it was exorbitantly expensive and probably doubled as some kind of dark artifact that required a newborn’s blood or something equally sinister. The prospect had her instantly recoiling and Holly wiped her sweaty palms clean on her grimy jeans.
“Easy, Hols.” Hermione exasperatedly chided as she helped her to her feet, supporting her with a hand resting on her back. Holly sheepishly laughed. She fixed Mione with a sweet smile and paired with a playful wink. It was a winning combination of the Potter charm, Sirius had assured her, and one he was famous for. It seemed pretty ineffective on bookworms, Hermione crossing her arms over her chest and looking largely unimpressed. Her friend maintained a stern demeanor as she scolded her. “Really, you ought to be more careful.” Holly tried to more aggressively channel her Potter charm, opening her green eyes wide and leaning against Hermione like an affectionate, clingy leech. Despite the glacial reception, she persisted, holding onto her tighter and trying to look more pathetic.
She was rewarded by Mione’s cold face cracking and melting away like hoarfrost. Faced with the full force of the Potter charm even she relented and simply shook her head exasperatedly. The older girl allowed the hug and secretively tightened her arms around her back, hugging her close and fooling no one. With Holly’s free hand, she tugged in a protesting Ron.
“Thank you, Mione.” She said softly.
“You are a menace .” Hermione said with feeling.
Ron made grumbling sounds of assent but leaned into it.
A long, audible exhale came from above the trio.
She’d almost forgotten Snape was there until he made his presence known by looming over them ominously. He sneered down at her with his hooked nose tilted up. “As I see that you are fine, Ms. Potter,” Snape remarks dryly, “Professor McGonagall and I have important matters to attend to. I trust that Ms. Granger’s and Mr. Weasley’s assistance will be enough for the Chosen One.” Without waiting for a response he turned on his heel, sweeping out of the hallway in a whirl of dark robes like a dramatic vampire from a Muggle movie and taking his annoyingly suffocating presence with him.
Professor McGonagall leveled his back with a frustrated sigh. It looked like she wanted to say something to Holly, but seemingly decided against it, pursing her lips instead. “Professor Snape is right, make yourselves comfortable for now and Professor Dumbledore will explain to you later. Everything will be alright.” She murmured reassuringly. “Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley.” She acknowledged them with a brief nod. “I will see you three later.” Readjusting the brim of her hat, she followed after Snape out of the foyer before Holly could even voice a complaint. They hadn’t even told her what all the secrecy was about. She was more than happy to be rescued from the Dursley residence, but the way they were conducting themselves was deeply suspicious.
She felt her shoulders slacken, relieved to be among friends again. Sirius’ ancestral home was the farthest thing from home that Holly could imagine. It looked like it had been left derelict for at least a decade with cobwebs clinging from every surface in sight. With tall, imposing ceilings and gas lamps, the house felt positively gloomy. The chandelier’s glass had become dull with neglect, the wallpaper peeling off the walls, and the carpet thin underneath her feet. So far Holly remained unimpressed with the Black’s ancestral home. She imagined Aunt Petunia could make this place shine like new.
After absorbing her surroundings, she found Ron fiercely glaring after where Snape had disappeared. Hermione elbowed the gangly redhead in the gut, making him give out a low grunt. “Ron, stop it.”
“You’d think that he gets paid to be a bloody git.” He sulked, rubbing his stomach reproachfully, tall baby that he was.
Hermione puffed up like an agitated Crookshanks, bushy hair standing upright. “Professor Snape and McGonagall have been running around all day dealing with something serious.” She rebuked sternly. “And more importantly, Hollis is here.”
“Mione, Ron--”
She yelped when Hermione tugged both her and Ron into a fierce hug. His face softened as he turned to face Holly. Ron slung an arm around her neck pulling her close so he could give her a noogie. “Happy birthday, Hols. “Did you get the cakes? Mum wanted to make a bigger cake but Errol was about to collapse under the weight of the first cake she made.”
She’d nearly had a heart attack when she saw the lump of feathers at her window. The poor senior owl had been supported by a disgruntled Hedwig and after dragging himself into her room, collapsed in a corner of her bed. Holly had run her fingers through his feathers and cooed softly at him as he recovered. It was only after nearly a week that he’d gathered the strength to return to the Weasley residence.
“How is he doing?” She said, sucking her lip between her teeth. Errol had wobbled as he’d flown away, but Hedwig had grown antsy with the interloper as time passed. The Dursleys barely tolerated the snowy owl as it was. She hadn’t wanted to push it and had apologetically explained it to the old owl. Errol had accepted it as graciously as an old man on the door of death could.
“He nearly passed out once he got home. Errol’s a feeble, old man.” Ron admitted, “He’s alright now.”
“Good-- You git, you’re ruining my hair!” She smacked at his stupid, freckled face with her free hand. He’d snatched her close to give her a noogie. It was infuriating how he’d shot up like a weed in less than a few months. She had to jump to whack him. He cackled and held her tighter and mussed it up even more. Holly fumed, sneaking a hand to tweak his armpit firmly making him squeal like a girl. Freed from his grip, she snickered at his offended, betrayed look. They’d have continued scuffling in the foyer if it wasn’t for Hermione.
“You two are children.” She said, rolling her eyes with her full body, her back rigid. Holly gave the other girl a brief onceover, taking in her stiff posture and the tightness of her mouth. It was mirrored in Ron’s face. Both of them were suspiciously stiff, in the way they’d get when they were being tight lipped. Holly was an expert at sniffing out secrets, not as much as she was as finding trouble.
When they pulled back from the group hug, most of her unease was alleviated. Holly couldn’t help but tentatively smile back, then return the embrace with the same fierceness. Ron made choking noises so she loosened her grip to stop constricting him, but kept hugging them both. He made a fuss, all perfunctory complaints and whining, but then squeezed them back harder. Hermione was making angry, hissy noises and smacking him on the back. It made Holly laugh.
She’d missed them dearly. Just laying eyes on the pair had eased something inside of her. Ron’s freckled face and the scent of freshly cut grass that followed him. The cloud of Hermione’s bushy hair and the way her face dimpled when she smiled. The way her brows would furrow when she was annoyed. She’d missed them dearly. Reexamining them, she could see minor differences from when she’d last seen them. They’d both seem to have shot up in height, leaving her behind, but it was something else.
Holly wasn’t the best at reading people, but something about her friends’ behavior struck her as off. Ron treated her like any one of his annoying brothers, occasionally remembering she was a girl, but generally really blase about it. Something about the way he’d assess her when she’d arrived gave her the feeling he was way more concerned than he’d let off. Mione kept touching her chin and rubbing at it, like she was tempted to bite at her nails. This was something she’d figure out later.
A shrill hoot cut through the noise. Poor Hedwig laid on her side in her cage, struggling to maintain dignity. Holly hurried to free her and the moment the cage was unlocked, the snowy owl alighted onto her shoulder, her beak brushed Holly’s ear and she nipped it lightly. She accepted the scolding, apologetically cooing at Hedwig, and scratching her under the chin where she liked it best. “I’m sorry, girl.” Hedwig shook out their head, leaning into the scritches, her offense melting away. “I’ll take your cage up to my room later.”
Hedwig preened their wing and let out a soft hoot, which was basically as good as forgiveness. She flapped her wings and took off, flying to who knows where within the house.
“There’s so much to catch up about.” Hermione lightly elbowed Ron in the side, giving him a meaningful look, her eyes flicking towards the suitcases and up the staircase.
“Oh right.”
“Alright, let me grab my bags--”
“Already got them.” Ron effortlessly hefted both her suitcases, taking one in each hand.
“I can carry them up myself.” She protested as she reached to grab them from the redhead. Ron danced out of her reach and shook his head, dodging her grip. He waved her off as he clambered up the staircase.
“Too late,” He shrugged. His light blue eyes lit up mischievously as he added teasingly. “Plus you girls can catch up on whatever boring girl stuff you want to talk about. Mione’s been dying to speak to you. She can show you up to your room later or something.”
“Why you--” Holly reached for her wand, before remembering she couldn’t jinx him freely. The redhead’s laughter faded as he ascended up the staircase, practically fleeing, leaving her and Hermione behind to half-heartedly fume.
“Boys.” Hermione said derisively, lifting her nose.
“Right?”
They looked at each other, expressions serious, then helplessly burst into giggles. Hermione’s eyes crinkled, then she enveloped Holly in a tight hug again. “I missed you so much. Ron really gets on my nerves sometimes.” The girl pursed her lips. “Oh and we’re still standing around, let’s head to the sitting room.”
“...Is there less dust?”
“Marginally.” Hermione sighed. “Mrs. Weasley took a broom to it all so there’s no cobwebs, but I’d avoid touching the furniture.” She leaned in whisper conspiratorially into Holly’s ear, “Apparently there’s a lot of Dark artifacts so we can’t Scourgify it all. The professors said we might risk blowing ourselves sky high.”
“That sounds bad.” Holly replied redundantly.
“Yes.”
The older girl led her through the gothic hallways and they chatted idly about how their summers had been. Holly didn’t have much to report on; she’d gardened, been kept confined to her room, and gotten a headstart on her schoolwork. Hermione had been pleased by that and told her a little bit about how she’d spent hers. The Grangers had gone for a brief trip in southern France. Hermione had gushed of the endless fields of lavender and taken many, many photos but in her rush to come here, left her camera at home. She’d sworn to have them printed as soon as possible to show her later.
They’d passed a lot of dusty rooms until they finally reached one that was significantly cleaner than the others. Mrs. Weasley had done a great job of making it liveable. At the very least they weren’t at risk of suffocating from the sheer dust.
Holly let out a soft whistle. “Finally, liveable conditions.”
The other girl laughed in response. “Let’s sit over here.” Mione patted the dark red chaise lounge. Holly plopped herself on the seat, bouncing slightly. Hermione fluffed up a pillow and readjusted it, then joined her. “I wish we could have celebrated your birthday with you, but we can do it now.” She finished determinedly, bright-eyed and bushy-haired, very much resembling a squirrel.
Holly brightened instantly, then sobered up. A part of her wanted to mirror that excitement. Having a birthday party that was her own and not an afterthought or dinner leftovers... That sounded like a dream: being surrounded by family and friends. She remembered lonely birthdays in a cupboard or more recently just locked up in her room. Holly wanted to eagerly accept, but hesitation weighed in her throat. She was more concerned with why she was here. Dumbledore had made it clear to her that her staying at the Dursleys was mandatory. So nothing short of life or death could bring her here. It was likely Voldemort was masterminding another plot and this time during holiday since evil knew no rest. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe Sirius got pardoned overnight and she could move in with him and out of the suburban hellhole that was 4 Privet Drive. A witch could dream , she mused. Although, Holly eyed the den of cobwebs in the corner that had been missed. She hoped Sirius wasn’t attached to... most of this.
Holly scratched her neck sheepishly, feeling a tinge awkward. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Professor Dumbledore could ship me right off to Privet Drive after... whatever this is.” She tried to keep her expectations low since it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
The other girl bit her lip, but her face grew more determined. She squeezed Holly’s hand reassuringly. “I’m sure we can figure out something to do for your birthday even if time is limited.” She said thoughtfully, tapping a finger to her chin. “We can have a little tea party!” Her brown eyes sparkled, “I’m sure if we rummage through the cabinets we can find some tea.”
Looking at their surroundings, Holly wondered if the tea would be from the 14th century or something. Erring magic, she was dubious about this hypothetical tea’s quality. She felt the chances of it being drinkable were pretty low. Still, now Holly was getting excited about this.
“Are the rest of the Weasleys here?” She questioned, perking up in her seat.
Hermione nodded. “You were supposed to receive the invitation to go to the Quidditch World Cup in a few days.” She explained earnestly. “It was supposed to be a surprise.” The girl’s face grew complicated. “Then Professor Dumbledore called an emergency meeting. All the adults are gathered but we don’t know what’s going on. The twins are probably trying to eavesdrop using one of their newer inventions.” She finished disapprovingly.
Holly could imagine the twins doing some shenanigans to listen in. She was tempted to join them, but she was sure Hermione might strongly chastise her so she kept it to herself. “Oh, uh that sounds bad.”
“Really, they’ve been chased off by Mrs. Weasley at least three times but they haven’t given up.” She huffed heatedly. “And I can’t believe Ginny joined them.”
Actually, Holly could see that. Ginny definitely had a hint of mischief to her and wasn’t against being roped into the twins’ schemes. She wouldn’t burst Hermione’s bubble. “Yeah, neither can I.” She agreed unconvincingly.
Hermione gave her a minor stink eye but moved on. “But we can do it. I’m sure we can pull them away for a short time to give you a minor birthday celebration. And if not I’m sure they already have something planned for the Quidditch Cup.” Her nose scrunched, but she seemed vaguely intrigued. “I’ve never seen a major sports event of this scale. I’m curious how it differs from Muggle football tournaments.”
Holly perked up. “We really got tickets?”
“Mr. Weasley got them for free from work!” She explained. “Apparently one of his colleagues owed him a favor and set him up with box tickets.”
“ Box tickets .” She said with the same worship one would give a god or religious artifact.
The girl laughed. “I’m pretty sure Ron reacted the same way. I don’t get the obsession with Quidditch.”
“That’s because you’re uncultured.” Holly sniffed. “The showdown between Bulgaria and Ireland will be legendary.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“I mean Viktor Krum is just wicked on that broom.” Holly said admiringly. She’d seen the results and some of the magical recordings of his game and Snitch catches were stellar. He cut through the air like a sleek, predatory bird. She wanted to be him. He looked so cool and so untouched by all the media swarming him, she aimed for that kind of unaffectedness.
“I don’t get it.” Hermione shrugged.
“Again, uncultured.” She huffed with offense. “He’s a genius , Mione.”
“You and Ron.” She shook her head, “I’ll never understand it.”
Holly sulked, crossing her arms over her chest, and tossing her short bangs behind her ear. “You’ll see when we get to the World Cup, when is it?”
Hermione tilted her head. “In about a week.” She frowned thoughtfully. “They definitely should have you stay here until then. It’ll be easier than convincing the Dursleys to let you go.” Holly grimaced knowing how right Mione was; she did not want to see a second showdown between the Dursleys and wizards. She preferred if they could avoid that.
“Yeah, let’s.”
“Bloody hell.” Holly sighed dreamily. “The Quidditch World Cup. I cannot wait.”
“I swear, what is the appeal of all these wizards just waving around bats. Why don’t we just all get them a Quaffle instead of them fighting over one?” Hermione proposed.
Holly inhaled deeply, praying for patience. She spent the next thirty minutes extolling the many virtues and appeal of the sport as well as its long, storied history. By the end of it, Hermione looked close to strangling her, but hadn’t so Holly considered it a success. Just spending time with her friends, celebrating her birthday with people she loved and cared for, the Quidditch World Cup, and maybe time with Sirius? Nothing could get Holly down. She was sure of it.