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Chapter Text

Holly stared down at her teacup as Aunt Petunia jabbered on about the poor state of her garden. Mrs Number Seven bemoaned the drought while Number Eight’s daughter commented about Number Six’s suspiciously green grass.

The talk was mind-numbing, but Holly had long since become used to it. She’d been ecstatic the first time Aunt Petunia had her attend one of her afternoon teas, before she realized the tea parties were just a way to show off the Dursleys’ generosity. They had her all dressed up, acting like the proper little lady, serving tea and refreshments and cleaning up afterwards while saying how much she loved her family.

As if she could ever like them, let alone love them.

Holly sipped the remainder of her tea and looked down at the dredges. She swirled them thrice before glancing up at the glaring sun and twisted the cup so the handle faced south. Looking down at the dredges, she resisted the urge to snort. The vague cross foretelling trouble in her future wasn’t a surprise. With Voldemort’s resurrection just a month ago, she’d been expecting it. Holly had been hoping the tea would reveal more, however it seemed her Divination skills were just as poor outside Trelawney’s classroom as they’d been inside. Thank Merlin she’d switched to Ancient Runes last year, even if that meant she would be spending the rest of her summer taking exams via owl.

“—Holly?”

Holly jerked her eyes from her teacup to see Mrs Figg had been speaking to her. She flushed, realizing many of the other women were waiting for a response of some sort.

“Sorry?” she said. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

There were a few titters, but Mrs Figg just smiled at her. “I was wondering how your summer was going, Holly,” she said.

“All right,” Holly lied. It’d been rather horrible, actually, what with the nightmares and the heat and Dudley’s horrible friends stalking her. But she wasn’t about to say any of that, not when Aunt Petunia was staring at her, her gaze threatening retribution. “What about you, madam? I hear Snowy had a litter of kittens.”

Attention turned to Mrs Figg as she regaled stories of Snowy’s perfect little babies and how they would make a tidy profit once the time came. One set of eyes hadn’t left Holly, however, and she lifted her gaze to meet Aunt Petunia’s. The woman was glaring at her, her eyes flickering about the teacup.

Holly averted her eyes and grabbed for the teapot.

“Would anyone like a refresher of their tea? Perhaps some fresh lemon slices?”

Many of the women chimed in, so Holly retreated to the kitchen with the empty teapot to grab the reserve. A set of heels clicked on the tile behind her, and she drew in a deep breath, bracing herself.

“What were you doing with that teacup?” Aunt Petunia hissed in her ear, grabbing her by the arm. Holly winced at the pinch from her freshly manicured nails.

“I was just finishing my cup,” said Holly, and because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “What else would I be doing?”

Aunt Petunia’s nostrils flared. “Don’t play with me, girl. I know you were—”

“What?” Holly cut her off loudly, spinning out of her grip. She must be mad, she thought, playing with fire like this. But she couldn’t help it. She’d been stuck in this damned house for a month already with barely any sign of the Wizarding World. No letters, no newspapers, nothing from her friends. Something had to give. “Tell me, Auntie, what was I doing? Something strange perhaps?”

Aunt Petunia hissed like a startled cat. “Keep your voice down!”

Holly enjoyed the panic in her eyes. “Or what? You’ll ground me? Make me do all the chores? Use a spoon on my rear? Lock me away in my cupb—”

“Oh, dear, is everything all right?”

The both of them spun to the patio door, where Mrs Figg had appeared. Her worn, kindly face didn’t show a hint of suspicion that she’d heard anything untoward.

“Just deciding what to serve,” lied Holly. “Perhaps we should do the Darjeeling, Auntie?”

Aunt Petunia’s jaw clenched, although Holly couldn’t tell if it was because of the diminutive of because of the near miss. Both, perhaps. Holly’s heart was racing, adrenaline flowing through her veins. She knew Aunt Petunia would get back at her for this later, but for now she reveled in the slight bit of power she had over her.

“Yes,” said Aunt Petunia through a forced smile, “I believe that would be perfect.”

Holly kept under the shaded trees as she slipped away from the tea party and headed towards the playpark. She wished she was allowed to use her wand during the summers, if only to use a cooling charm. As it was, she could already feel the sweat making her dress cling to her back.

Not many were outside this time of day thanks to the heat, so Holly had her choice pick of seating. She selected an abandoned swing set under the shade of a crooked elm and kicked off, enjoying the rush of wind in her hair. This was the first bit of peace she’d gotten in a month, and she’ll take the joy whenever she got it. She didn’t get much of it this summer, what with toiling away in the garden with the groggy heat and Cedric's lifeless eyes keeping her up at night. Holly was sure she hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since before the Third Task.

Mean laughter soon echoed across the play park. The play set blocked her view of the newcomers, but Holly recognized that laughter. Dudley and his gang, and from their distant amusement, she surmised they had just finished picking on another primary schooler. With a sigh, Holly swayed to a stop. It seemed her joy had become short-lived, as usual. She watched as Dudley and his friends rounded the corner, unaware of her hiding in the shadows of the tree.

“Got him good, didn’t we?” laughed one of Dudley’s new pals. He was just as big as Dudley, and likely just as stupid.

“Did you see his face?” sniggered another. He screwed up his face and mocked, “’Mummy! Mummy!’”

They laughed, and Holly rolled her eyes. They wouldn’t act so tough if they faced what she had during the last Task. Just then, a traitorous breeze came through and one of the boys caught her dark plait flickering in the wind. He nudged Dudley.

 “Isn’t that your cousin?” he asked. They were close enough that Holly could hear him, if barely.

One of the unfamiliar boys whistled. “Think she’ll let me have a go at her?”

“Yeah, mate. You wouldn’t mind, would you?” Piers grinned, elbowing Dudley. His eyes trailed over Holly, and she worked to keep her face straight. As if she would ever give that toerag the light of day, not when he’d spent years chasing her down and beating her up with Dudley.

A sudden thought of revenge came to mind, and Holly hid a grin of her own.

“Hi, Piers,” she cooed, giving him a wave. A dumbstruck look washed over his face. Dudley squinted at her in suspicion, rightfully so. “You alright?” she asked, biting her lower lip.

“Yeah,” he said, trotting forward. His stupid expression morphed into a sleazy grin as he looked down at her. “Yeah, everything’s alright. You?”

“Not bad, thanks.”

Holly stretched, aware of the way his eyes tried to look down the neckline of her dress. The other boys were watching with varying degrees of disbelief. Dudley was frowning.

Piers took another step forward, eyes still glued to her chest. Holly hid an eye roll. It wasn’t like she had much to look at.

“You sound like you’ve been having fun,” she said, peering up at him from beneath her lashes. “I bet we could have some fun together, couldn’t we?”

Piers’s grin grew. “Don’t suppose—”

“Oi, Piers!” Dudley interrupted him. “Stop acting like a tosser and come on.”

“See you later, yeah?” Holly said before Piers could make an excuse to stay. She thought she ought to thank Dudley for being helpful for once.

His face fell. “Yeah,” he grumbled. “See you.”

Dudley dragged him away, but not before throwing a glare at her over his shoulder. Holly smirked back at him, satisfied with herself. Piers was red around the ears and Holly knew he’d be irritated with Dudley for quite a while.

“You know,” said a cheery voice, “I think that counts as Muggle baiting.”

Holly didn’t jump. She’d caught sight of the slight flickering of a Disillusionment Charm from the corner of her eye earlier and knew of only one person who would risk getting this close to her while on watch duty.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” lied Holly.

Tonks snorted. “Look at the poor boy. He’s so pent up I bet he’d pop off the next time a girl so much as brushed against him.”

“Thanks,” said Holly with a disgusted grimace. “Now I’ve got that lovely image in my head.”

Holly caught sight of Tonks’s smirk as she shimmered into view. She looked like a teenage girl today, closer to Holly’s age than the woman Holly had caught following her two weeks ago.

It’d been after a particularly gruelling morning in the garden, and Holly had decided to head into town lest she do something she’d regret later. She’d stopped in at a charity shop, looking for a bracelet or pendant to inscribe runes on, when she first noticed the woman due to her brightly coloured hair. Then she’d noticed her at her following stops, first at a café then at the library. The café, she could’ve excused, but the small worn-down library? She knew she was being followed. So, Holly had walked into the neighbouring copse of trees, hiding to see if she’d just been paranoid.

She hadn’t been.

Tonks had walked straight past her, her Disillusionment Charm flickering with the dappled sunlight and the plants moving in the wind. Holly had taken her wand and pointed it straight at Tonks’s head and demanded why she’d been following her. Tonks, in true Tonks fashion, had whirled around and promptly tripped over a tree root.

It’d been shockingly easy to make Tonks admit the truth to her stalking.

Dumbledore had ordered it for her safety.

Her safety. Holly had outright laughed. She’d never been safe at the Dursleys’, and she doubted she ever would be. Now she had an audience to the humiliating things they put her through. Dumbledore’s Order wouldn’t interrupt. She knew they wouldn’t because they would have done so the moment Aunt Petunia slapped her on her third day back at the house and made her lip bleed.

“I saw the row you had with your aunt,” Tonks said, breaking Holly out of her memories. Holly rubbed her arm, where bruises had already formed from Aunt Petunia’s tight grip.

“Everyone fights,” she said.

“Hmm.”

Holly stared down at her worn trainers to avoid Tonks’ gaze. Tonks was the only sign of the Wizarding World she’d had since school let out a month ago, and she appreciated her semi-weekly visits, but she didn’t want to talk about the Dursleys. She didn’t think she ever would.

“Holly.”

Holly peeled her gaze off her shoes. Tonks waved her wand subtly and she felt a soft wave of magic encompass the area. An anti-eavesdropping charm, she assumed. Better known as a type of ward. She would be covering them this year in Ancient Runes, if she managed to pass last year’s end exam on her first day back. If Tonks was using a ward, then that meant she was getting serious.

“What’s happened? Is it about Voldemort?” Holly whispered despite the spell. “Sirius?”

“Not really,” said Tonks, after a wince at Voldemort’s name. “The Order is keeping an ear out, but we haven’t heard much. But that isn’t want I wanted to talk to you about.”

Tonks’s voice was grim. “What’s wrong?” Holly asked, her heart squeezing in her chest.

“It’s the papers,” she said, pulling a folded newspaper from what must be a space-charmed pocket. She passed it over to Holly.

Holly’s hand shook as she grabbed the paper. She hadn’t been getting her deliveries ever since school let out. A mail-direction charm, she’d figured out. However, without being somewhere magic was abundant to muddle the Trace, she’d be unable to remove it. It rankled.

The head news of the Daily Prophet wasn’t anything special. Nor were the next few pages. One article niggled at her memory, mentioning a bill the Wizengamot passed at their meeting about standardizing the bottom depth of cauldron bottoms, but that mustn’t be what Tonks was talking about. She delved deeper into the paper, bypassing obituaries, advertisements (Madam Proserpina’s Primordial Perfume – For the modern goddess!), and the societal pages detailing a Madam Zabini’s seventh widowing in as many years. Near the middle of the paper, after the sports page, she noticed it. The Ministry Affairs Column, where the newspaper commented on various government matters. It was the third notice that caught her eye.

A statement from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes has confirmed no substantial evidence has been found regarding the alleged dark activity at the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Investigations are ongoing, and officials caution against wild speculation from certain members of society.

Holly knew at once what they were doing. It neither mentioned her nor Dumbledore by name, but it was clearly referring to his blatant statement that Voldemort had returned and Holly’s involvement in the matter. While Holly hadn’t wildly announced Voldemort’s return when the Tri-Wizard Cup had whirled her back to Hogwarts with Cedric’s body, wary of the mysterious faithful servant Voldemort had said was at the school, something had clearly happened. And now it was coming to bite her.

Her fingers crinkled the paper as she stared at it.

“Tonks, what do I do?”

Holly didn’t have any experience with this sort of thing. She’d barely paid any attention to the papers until her third year, and only then she’d been keeping an eye out for Sirius. Last year, she’d mostly relied on Hermione to water-down the articles about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She hadn’t noticed anything too bad about her. Sure, there’d been a few comments about her mysterious entanglement with the Tournament, but the Ministry had personally made a statement about someone else putting her name in. She’d never faced something as bad as this.

“I’m not sure,” admitted Tonks. “My dad’s the type of person to talk about this—he’s a law-wizard—but the papers aren’t mentioning you by name.”

“Yet.”

Tonks grimaced.

“What about Dumbledore?” said Holly. “Are they mentioning him?”

“In the beginning, after his statement at the end-of-year feast,” Tonks told her. “It caused a ruckus in the Ministry. My colleagues thought he was mad.”

Holly frowned. “Shouldn’t Aurors be more aware of what’s going on?” she asked. Surely, they would know something was going on, even if the papers weren’t mentioning it.

“Madam Bones is keeping mum. Mad-Eye keeps having meetings with her, but he hasn’t said anything to me.”

“Mad-Eye’s a part of the Order, right?”

“Yeah, but he only talks to Dumbledore,” said Tonks gloomily. “I’ve only just completed training. He just has me following people and watching you.” She winced at the way it sounded. “Sorry.”

"Must not be a fun job, watching me,” Holly commiserated, not offended. All she did was garden, go to the park, or hole up in her room doing homework. Occasionally, she'd head into town.

“I dunno, watching you tease that boy was pretty funny.” Tonks elbowed her.

“I shouldn’t do it, though,” admitted Holly. “You’re not always going to be around.”

Tonks’s expression when serious. “Have they been bothering you?” she demanded.

Holly shrugged. “It’s alright,” she said. “I can protect myself.”

“Without your wand?”

Holly pursed her lips. She had plenty of practise running from Dudley and his friends, and she’d even used to give as good as she got when they were little, but the truth of the matter was that they were much much bigger than her now. She was as slight as her mum had been and at least five inches shorter.

“All right,” said Tonks, hopping to her feet. “Follow me.”

Holly eyed her but jumped off her swing. Tonks led her a little ways into the woods surrounding the park, stopping at a small clearing. She twirled her wand through the air, and Holly watched as a dome-like magic settled around the meadow before shimmering into nothing.

“What was that?” she asked suspiciously. It didn’t look like any of the charms she’d learned during her frenetic studying for the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

“Muggle-Direction charm,” said Tonks with a grin, stowing away her wand. “We shouldn’t be bothered here.”

Holly took a step away from Tonks, narrowing her eyes at her. “And why would we be bothered?”

Instead of answering, Tonks lunged.

Holly leapt out of her path, but her ankle was snagged. She fell to the ground as Tonks dragged her towards her. Holly’s heart hammered against her sternum as Tonks grabbed for her other leg. She kicked out with her other leg, making Tonks grunt as it struck true. Quickly rolling to her feet, she skittered out of reach.

“What the hell!”

“You don’t know how to protect yourself, so I’m going to teach you,” said Tonks with a wild grin.

“I didn’t agree to this!”

“Too bad.”

Tonks grabbed for her, but Holly knocked her hand away.

“You’re a real git, you know that?”

“I usually get called a nuisance.”

In her lapse of concentration, Tonks snagged her other wrist. She jerked her forwards and Holly flung out a hand in instinct, her fist glancing off Tonks’s chin. It didn’t seem to smart any, as Tonks easily spun Holly and banded her arms around her chest. Holly wriggled; her arms pinned by Tonks’s unexpectedly strong hold.

“What do you do in this situation?” Tonks asked.

Holly tried kicking back at her shin, but Tonks seemed to expect that. She only hit air. She tried her other foot, only to meet the same result.

“Let go!” Holly snapped.

“Make me.”

Holly gnashed her teeth, knowing Tonks wouldn’t give up so easily. She tried a few more ineffectual kicks before deciding to use both her feet. She jumped up and kicked back, managing to strike one of Tonks’s legs and the underside of her chin with the top of her head. Unfortunately, this caused them to careen forward.

Tonks instinctively released her to catch herself, but she still landed heavily on Holly’s back. Holly heaved for breath as the wind was knocked from her.

“Smart move,” said Tonks as she clambered to her knees and sat on Holly. “But now look at the situation you’re in.”

“Bugger off,” Holly gasped. Tonks gathered her arms behind her back, and she winced at the pull in her shoulders. Her wrist hurt as Tonks pressed on the bruise Aunt Petunia gave her.

“Kick me off,” Tonks told her. “I’m not joking about this, Holly. What happens when one of those boys gets you in this position? You think they’re going to be satisfied sitting on you?”

Holly’s throat felt thick. She clenched her eyes shut, resting her forehead on the ground as she tried to breathe. Dirt and grass filled her senses, swirling in the back of her throat. She inhaled again, feeling the strength as it gathered in her chest, lending her power. With one more inhale, she twisted the upper half of her body. Tonks slipped so she was straddling her hip. In a quick movement, Holly hooked her leg over Tonks’s ankle. She rolled, managing to dislodge her.

Tonks attempted to grab at Holly again, but she staggered to her feet and out of reach.

“Good job,” Tonks said, not even out of breath, the git. “What made you think to use your legs?”

“You had my arms, and you couldn’t your legs quick enough to avoid me,” Holly panted. Even as she gasped for air, she kept an eye on Tonks. However, Tonks seemed to be done for now. “I turned onto my shoulder to make you loosen your grip on my arms,” she added without being asked.

“It also made me lose my balance,” said Tonks. “That was smart. But there’s a better way to get out of that hold. Want me to show you?”

Holly licked her lips, wondering if this was a trick. Her face must’ve been an easy read because Tonks promised it wasn’t.

“Okay,” said Holly.

Tonks had them reverse positions, so Holly was sitting on her lower back and grasping her wrists.

“Don’t be afraid to grab me harder,” Tonks told her. “You need to get this right.”

Holly tightened her grip on Tonks’s wrists, her knuckles whitening under the pressure.

“Good,” said Tonks. “All right. You were on the ball with moving your torso, however you should move like this. See how your grip breaks?”

Tonks wiggled her torso, rocking from side to side. In a sudden motion, she arched her back and managed to get one of her elbows onto the ground. Holly’s grip loosened.

“After, you can move your hips. What you did before was fine, but you can also buck using your legs.”

Holly tried to prepare herself, but Tonks got a foot planted on the ground and bucked. Holly flailed, falling sideways. In another quick movement, Tonks twisted around and knocked her off completely. Holly rolled onto her back, peering past the glaring sun to look up at Tonks.

“Want to give it a try?”

Holly steeled herself, and nodded.

Chapter Text

The bruise Aunt Petunia gave Holly had disappeared into a sea of other bruises. Tonks had not gone easy on her, but after a solid two weeks—seven meetings in total—Holly managed to reliably buck Tonks off and even pin her down on the occasions they switched.

“I’m proud of you,” Tonks puffed out as she heaved for breath. She’d turned herself into one of Dudley’s bigger friends, and Holly had managed to knock her off and land a strike to the crotch, downing her.

“Thanks.” Holly grinned, taking a swig of water. Fighting in the late afternoon heat was no easy feat, and Tonks had to Scourgify her of sweat before she headed back to Privet Drive, but it was worth it. Holly was so tired by the time she got back to her room she passed right out. She hadn’t had a nightmare in a week.

“I think you’ve graduated from Camp Tonks,” Tonks announced once she shifted back to her usual, vibrantly coloured self. Her transfigured clothes hung off her. “Right in time, too.”

Holly’s grin faltered. “What? We’re not going to spar anymore?”

“Can’t,” said Tonks. “Dumbledore has me on some mission. Top secret.” She winked, but Holly didn’t smile. It felt like she was being abandoned. Again.

“Chin up,” Tonks told her. “I should be back in time to celebrate your birthday. You might even get to go to Headquarters.”

The mysterious Headquarters was where Sirius was. Holly had only exchanged one letter with Sirius so far, where he had apologized for not being able to see her this summer but that he was caught up in something for Dumbledore. She hoped he was being safe, and as she’d been advised, hadn’t contacted him since. He would contact her whenever he was done with whatever Dumbledore had him doing.

She hoped.

“Just in case I don’t make it back for your birthday, I got you this,” said Tonks, breaking Holly out of her gloomy thoughts.

Tonks handed her a card of some sort. Holly turned it over in her hand. It was a deep purple with golden letters spelling The Knight Bus on the front. On the back was the name Hollis Tonks.

“Is this a…bus pass?” Holly asked. She hadn’t known the Wizarding World even had anything like this; she’d thought the Floo or Portkeys were as good as it got.

“It’s good until the first of August,” said Tonks.

“I thought I was supposed to stay in Little Whinging. That it’s too dangerous otherwise.”

“They never told you that to your face, did they?”

Holly stared at her. She thought, that as a part of the Order, Tonks shouldn’t be encouraging her to leave Little Whinging. That Holly shouldn’t go anywhere near the Wizarding World, lest one of Voldemort’s supporters snatch her up. Even Sirius’s letter had said so. Stay near Privet Drive. There’s all sorts of dangerous wizards out there.

“Besides,” said Tonks with a grin. “Holly Potter isn’t going to Diagon Alley—Hollis Tonks is.”

“I don’t look anything like you,” said Holly, squinting at her. Tonks was tall, lean, and muscular—well-proportioned with pale skin and brown hair when she wasn’t cosplaying as one of those punk kids she saw smoking on street corners. Holly was short and scrawny, with light brown skin, wild black hair when it wasn’t tied back, and most noticeably, a lightning-bolt scar on her forehead.

“You take after Dad,” said Tonks, rolling her eyes. “What’s with all the peculiarities? Don’t you want to get out of here for a little while?”

“Well, yes,” said Holly, who had actually thought of leaving for the Leaky Cauldron as soon as Aunt Petunia had slapped her across the face, “but Sirius said…”

“Who cares what he said? Holly, you’ve got to start thinking for yourself.”

Holly stared down at her trainers. Think for yourself. She’d never allowed herself to do that before. She didn’t know how. She’d learned early on that disobedience earned her weeks locked in her cupboard, so she’d stopped questioning her relatives entirely.

Then, at Hogwarts, she’d allowed Ron and Hermione to dictate her time for her. She hadn’t wanted to upset Ron, afraid he’d no longer wanted to be friends with her. And she went along with Hermione’s perfectly planned schedules, allowing her to take the lead on research for their mysteries or her studying for the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

When was the last time Holly had ever truly thought for herself? When she’d schemed to get her Hogwarts Letter before it could get torn up? They’d all been destroyed anyway. In her first year with the Troll? She’d been fixing Ron’s blunder. With the Philosopher’s Stone? Perhaps, then, but that’d ended with a man’s ashes all over her hands.

Second year she’d cycled between terrified out of her mind and ostracized by the entire school for a magical ability she had. Third year? It’d been Dumbledore who’d led them to save Sirius with the Time-Turner. The only thing Holly had done for herself then was pursue Lupin for Patronus lessons, and what had she done? Let Fred and George talk her into sneaking to Hogsmeade—which disappointed Lupin so much he no longer wanted to waste his time teaching her.

Holly had always led herself be led about the nose, and it’d inevitably ended with her in trouble.

No longer, she thought. Clenching and unclenching her fists, Holly looked back up at Tonks. “You’re right,” she said. “I haven’t thought for myself. I let others dictate what I do, but you’re teaching me not to do that, aren’t you?”

Tonks’s response was soft. A little sad. “Yeah, kid, I am. So how about it? You want to be Hollis Tonks for the summer?”

Holly managed a smile. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I am.”

***

It took Holly a few days after Tonks’s last visit to muster up the courage to use her bus pass. She stood on an abandoned street by Little Whinging Community Library, wrapped up in one of her old Hogwarts cloaks with the Gryffindor patch torn off. The vibrant red made her stick out like a sore thumb.

Holly worried her wand in her hand, wondering what Sirius would think. He’d told her to stay put and stay safe. Should she really go to Diagon Alley? Then she remembered Tonks’s words, about the hours she’d spent teaching Holly how to protect herself. About how she should think for herself, do what makes her happy.

And honestly? Holly really wanted to get out of Little Whinging for a little while.

Before she could psych herself out, Holly flung out her wand and summoned the Knight Bus. It took a few minutes, but it appeared with a sharp BANG! just as she remembered from two years ago.

“Hollis Tonks? Sister of Nymphadora Tonks?” he asked, squinting at her.

Nymphadora? Holly bit back a laugh—no wonder she insisted on Tonks!

The conductor was still examining Holly’s bus pass—he’d probably met Tonks at some point—so Holly borrowed Tonks’s excuse. “Yeah, I get that all the time. I take after my dad.”

She gave him a winning smile.

He examined for a few moments longer before waving Holly on the bus. It sped off as soon as her rear touched the seat. She grasped for a handle and clung on as the bus rocketed towards London. The scenery passed by in a blur of colours, stopping only to let off a pair of elderly witches at a pub and a goblin off at some Muggle town, whereupon an illusion draped over him to make him look like a particularly short man. Holly had just stepped off the bus in front of the Leaky Cauldron before the bus disappeared, the backdraft making her robe flutter.

Holly tugged on her cloak hood before stepping into the pub. It was rowdy for a Wednesday afternoon, but the crackling of a radio announcer alerted her to an ongoing Quidditch match. A group of wizards with sheets of parchment were huddled around the large antique radio, cheering or hollering every time a player’s name was announced.

Fantasy Quidditch? Holly thought. She’d heard of it before, Ron was a big fan, but they’d never participated due to the Galleon-minimum buy-in. Holly had plenty of Galleons, but as one was the equivalent of a hundred pounds, she knew Ron wouldn’t be comfortable with her paying for him, so she’d avoided it.

As most of the patrons were preoccupied with the game—the Falmouth Falcons were playing against the Holyhead Harpies, it seemed—Holly went through to the entrance of Diagon Alley unnoticed.

She would never get tired of watching the bricks wriggle and shift into an archway just big enough for her to get through. Nor would she ever tire of the magical sight of Diagon Alley’s inhabitants going about their days. One day, Holly told herself. One day she would get to experience all of this whenever she wished.

However, Holly hadn’t come here to people watch. She pulled out a sheet of parchment Tonks had handed her, which detailed a number of books on Ancient Runes and enchanting she should purchase. While Tonks hadn’t taken Ancient Runes—she’d been more concerned with acing her Potions classes so she could be an Auror—her mother had. Mrs Tonks had kindly written down all the important texts she used for her own classes in Study of Ancient Runes, which should help Holly catch up for the coming term. She’d also suggested some tools Holly may need.

Professor Babbling had instructed Holly to craft a rudimentary protection amulet consisting of a bindrune made of at least three runic symbols and owl it to her. As Holly had only created a simple pendant in the past, this was a tall order. But she was confident she could do it.

Flourish & Blotts had a comfortable sort of quiet to it. Papers ruffled in the distance as a patron skimmed a book and the clerk at the counter was squinting through his rectangular glasses as he scribbled on some parchment. Holly decided to examine the Runic Languages section of the book before she bothered him.

The shelves were ladened with tomes wrapped in leather, paper, or paperboard covered in painted and colourful fabric. These looked like the vintage Muggle hard-back books she’d seen in Little Whinging’s library, the ones the librarian always cautioned her from touching.

Holly examined the titles and took down a book titled Advanced Rune Translation by Yuri Blishen. This was the required textbook for NEWT students, but Mrs Tonks had written a note stressing that she should read it as soon as possible. Two other books she selected were standard dictionaries. She figured she might dabble in the other runic languages. Maybe she could impress Professor Babbling by using Younger Futhark or Anglo-Saxon Futhorc.

After going over the shelves a few more times, Holly found a few of the books Mrs Tonks recommended weren’t available. She tucked her books under her arm and approached the clerk from earlier. He had moved onto a new scroll of parchment, the feather of his quill swaying with his hurried writing. Holly hesitated for a moment before calling out.

“Excuse me?”

The wizard stared at her for a moment. Holly feared he’d recognized her and was about to start a ruckus, but he merely set aside his parchment. “Yes, miss?”

“Do you happen to know if you have any of these books in stock? I didn’t see them on the shelves,” she said, handing over the parchment with the book list on it.

“Hmm…do you need these specific editions?”

“Yes,” said Holly, although she didn’t know why. Just that Mrs Tonks told her to get these editions or don’t get the books at all.

“Well, we don’t have the edition of this one,” he said, pointing towards a title, “and I haven’t heard of this one in years.”

Both were written under a note from Mrs Tonks specifying what books were necessary if she wanted to work with runes in the future and not just translate them.

“Do you have an idea where I could find either of them?”

The clerk scratched the stubble on his chin as he thought. “Obscurus Books might have the first one, but your best luck for the other is at the second-hand shop next to Fortescue’s. I’d suggest Oldknowe’s, but it’s in Knockturn. Not exactly a place for a young lady.”

Holly hesitated. Knockturn Alley. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but Tonks had trusted her to think for herself, hadn’t she? And besides, she really did want those books.

“Thanks,” said Holly. She paid for the three books she’d grabbed and had them shrunken down for her since she wasn’t technically supposed to do magic. Although, Tonks had let her in on a little secret that she could do magic wherever adult wizards were, which she thought was unfair for Muggle-raised wizards like her.

Obscurus Books did indeed have the 1969 edition of Elementary Enchanting, as well as an interesting book on everlasting charms. Holly figured she might as well pick up some more reading if she didn’t want to be bored for the remainder of the summer. She had completed all her essays in the first week of returning to Privet Drive and the only thing she had to entertain her was her Ancient Runes assignments.

Next, Holly located the junk shop. She vaguely recalled Mrs Weasley heading here to find a set of scales for Ron after his broke, so perhaps they would have the items she wanted.

Shelves cluttered with items towered over her, as the shelves did in most shops. However, she hadn’t been nearly as nervous of having one collapse on her as she did here. Holly surreptitiously held her wand beneath her sleeve. She’d made it a priority to learn the spell Professor Dumbledore had done to catch her when she’d fainted on her broom in her third year, so she’d be able to stop the shelves if she was quick enough.

The shop was vaguely organized into sections, from furniture to cookware to home décor, and a case full of jewellery, which immediately caught her eye.

Holly peered into the dusty jewellery case, searching for something to inscribe runes on for her Ancient Runes project. Much of the jewellery was gold or silver with gaudy gemstones, which didn’t suit her needs. They needed to have a flat surface broad enough to fit a full runic symbol, like the plain wooden pendant she’d bought from a second-hand shop in Little Whinging. It’d been carved into the shape of a cat, and she’d decided to etch the shape of Eihwaz onto the flat bottom, imbuing her magic into it while focusing on the wisdom aspect of the rune. It currently sat at her collar, and she hoped the magic in it would give her wisdom in her choices today.

After some more searching, Holly found a pendant made of a pretty pale blue stone.

“Excuse me, may I look at this necklace?” Holly called over to a worker. They set down the diricawl-shaped planter they’d been dusting and pulled out the amulet.

The sunlight filtering through a nearby window made the gemstone glimmer. Holly examined it to ensure no runes were already inscribed on it—they weren’t—and pulled out her wand. With a quick glance at the worker, who had gone back to the planter, Holly mumbled a spell under her breath. The tip of her wand lit silver, proclaiming the metal fastening of the gemstone was silver. It was good for trapping the magic in runes. A perfect specimen for her Ancient Runes project.

Holly added the pendant to her basket and returned to the jewellery case. She retrieved another two bangles to practice her runic work on before a set of earrings caught her attention. Emeralds in a marquis cut shaped a flower with a gold centre. Squinting at the price through the case, Holly sighed. Three galleons. Three hundred pounds. Way too much for some earrings.

Turning her attention away from jewellery, Holly examined the rest of the store. She found a practice tablet for inscribing runes that already had a misshapen eihwaz, or perhaps it was sowilo, etched into it, among others. It was only a few knuts, so Holly added it to her basket. She also found a set of chisels that were a little banged up. As new tools for runes were at minimum a galleon, these would have to do. And only a sickle—or nearly six pounds—at that!

Eventually, Holly reached her original destination. The bookshelves weren’t organized by genre, so Holly found herself searching the entire selection to see if the remaining three books on runes were here. She found one of them and the wrong edition of another, but a title Mrs Tonks had underlined three times, a book simply titled Runes by Kára Vetrsdottir, was nowhere to be found.

While examining a shelf at the end, Holly found a leather book wedged between an ancient cookbook and a novel about a girl named after a day of the week who attended a boarding school not unlike Hogwarts. The leather book was thin but the leather had delicate tooling which caught her attention. Holly pried it from its place and saw it was a book on gemstones and their magical properties. She curiously flipped through the pages until she came upon a stone which looked rather like her pendant.

Blue aventurine, said the book, is a stone of inner strength. It helps you to mature spiritually and emotionally, allowing you to open yourself to new levels of intuition and spirituality.

Holly likened it to algiz, a rune which represented protection and a link to one’s inner self. Could you link the magical properties of a gemstone and runes together with a bindrune, she thought. Perhaps Holly would write to Professor Babbling and ask. Or, she thought, she could try inscribing a bindrune containing algiz into the blue aventurine and see what happened. It was something to ponder over, at any rate.

The jewellery and books didn’t amount to much coin, and Holly was soon on her way. She loitered on the corner where Knockturn and Diagon Alley met. It had been three years since her accidental trip to Borgin & Burkes, but she could still remember the beady eyes of the hag who’d offered her severed fingers when she’d tried to find her way out. But Holly was older now. She knew how to protect herself from hags, both physically and magically. Merlin, she’d gone up against a dragon and she’d survived Voldemort’s return.

Hags were nothing.

Holly still clutched onto her wand beneath her sleeve, and her other hand grasped the strap of her satchel. It contained her Gringotts vault key, purchases, money, and the Knight Bus card Tonks had given to her. If it was stolen, she wouldn’t know how she’d get home. Could you even replace your vault key at Gringotts?

She was procrastinating. Holly blew out a breath, which ruffled the fringe over her forehead. She patted it down and took a step into Knockturn Alley. And then another. Holly found herself winding through the alleyway, keeping her eyes peeled for suspicious wizards and dark creatures.

Knockturn Alley was colder somehow, despite the sweltering sun that had glared down at her in Diagon Alley. The sun didn’t quite reach between the narrow buildings and vendors here. She passed a hunched old witch haggling over newt tails, and a boy not much older than herself was bartering for sprigs of aconite, which were placed in a tightly sealed jar. Holly wondered if the vendor was a werewolf—she couldn’t quite see if he had the same scars Lupin had—but she put it out of her mind. It wasn’t any of her business.

Holly found the shop the clerk in Flourish & Blotts suggested. Oldknowe’s Tomes had a dark wood façade and a single, blue-lit lantern swinging above the door. The glass to the shop was so dusty Holly could only see vague shapes of the interior, and the hand-painted lettering on the window was so faded and peeling she’d almost walked past the shop before she’d taken a second look at the sign.

Inside, the shop was dim and dusty, with just enough light to read. If Holly been had nervous about the shelves in the second-hand shop, it had nothing on the shelves which towered above her here. The ladder to reach the tallest of bookshelves was at least two stories tall, although there did appear to be a second floor to the shop. No bell announced Holly’s entrance, but she had the strange feeling the shop owner must know she’d entered.

Holly instinctively quieted her footsteps as she walked around the stacks of books piled precariously on dusty table tops. The quiet atmosphere and its smell of old parchment and leather was comforting, oddly enough. It reminded her of the far corners of Little Whinging’s library where she would hide from Dudley and his goons, curled up beneath a carrell with her bounty of books.

There was only one other person in the shelves, a tall boy about Holly’s age. He was leaning against the wainscotting of a rare empty wall, perusing a stack of tomes beside him. Holly squinted at the boy. She vaguely recognized him from Hogwarts, but she couldn’t recall the House or year he was in.

As if he could sense Holly’s gaze, he glanced up.

Silver eyes met Holly’s. The boy had a bored, unimpressed look upon his aristocratic face. Holly flushed at getting caught and ducked around the corner. Unlike the junk shop, Oldknowe’s was organized. The Runes section was near the front with five two-story shelves to itself. Holly sighed, and tucking away her list, got to searching. She was halfway off the ladder reaching for the last book when a quiet voice startled her.

“What are you doing?”

Holly flinched and her foot slipped. She just about managed to catch herself, and heart racing, she glared down at who’d spoken. The boy stared up at her, that blank expression still on his face.

“I thought it was obvious,” Holly said waspishly.

One brow rose. “Hmm,” was all he said.

“What?” snapped Holly.

“You’ve a wand,” he said, and then he walked away.

Holly stared at his back until he turned the corner. You’ve a wand. What the bloody hell did that mean? Holly grumbled to herself. She grabbed the book and clambered down the ladder to purchase it.

It wasn’t until she was on the Knight Bus headed back towards Little Whinging, did she realize the boy meant she could’ve Summoned the damned book.