1. In Which Holly Leaves

Holly Evans, of 1101 Crescent Drive, was in no way normal, no matter what she pretended or her father convinced others of.

On the outside, she was the last person you'd expect to be involved in the unnatural (supernatural in this circumstance); however, the inside was a completely different story because, no matter how hard her father attempted to repress her magic, it was a part that refused to stay away. Holly welcomed it, though perhaps that is why it was becoming so dominant.

Her father, James, in all pretenses, was a Muggle, the owner of their small-town's coffee house. He was of average height with inky black hair that never staid flat (glamour charms made him with shaggy, blonde locks. He had almond-shaped hazel eyes that hid behind round, wire-rimmed glasses (outside the house he wore crystal-colored contact lenses). He had a particular liking to plaid shirts which he always unbuttoned and wore as a jacket, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows. Holly had bought him a new one every holiday since she was nine (the age he saw fit to give her an allowance). They lived in a split-level house in the exact middle of Crescent Drive where they had resided for the past fourteen years after the death of Holly's mother.

The Evans family was a perfectly normal family living in PapioBay, a small-town in the Midwest state of Nebraska, the heart of the United States of America. They were never discussed in the town grapevine, other than the comments of how "gorgeous James was still single" and about "Holly's polite attitude, the little darling". Their behavior was picture-perfect, and no attention was ever drawn to them, which was fine with James. The Evans seemed to have everything anyone could want, but they had a secret, and their greatest fear was that someone would discover it.

They didn't dare think of what would occur if anyone found out about the Potters.

You see, the Evans were just their aliases, and their real names were James and Holly Potter. James had married Lily in May of 1979, and a mere later, their first son, Harry James Potter, was born. However, at this time, the wizarding world of Britian was at war with the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, and the couple fought valiantly against him and his followers called Death Eaters. In 1981, Lord Voldemort sought to kill the Potter family, so they went into hiding in Godric's Hollow under a Fidelius Charm. They told all that their friend, Sirius Black, would be their Secret Keeper to lead a false trail while, he other friend, Peter Pettigrew, in all actually, would take on the job.

On Halloween of 1981, Peter revealed their location to Voldemort who attacked the Potters and little Harry. That night, James was taken by surprise and incapitated and Lily Potter refused to move from her son's side and instead sacrificed herself for him. When Lord Voldemort turned to kill young Harry, it rebounded on the older wizard, casting him away. The outside world assumed that Lily and James Potter were dead, and Harry was forever known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the only known survivor of the Killing Curse.

Not all is the truth. In actuality, no one knew that James Potter was near death until the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore, healed him. No one knew, at the time of the attack, that Lily Potter had been seven months pregnant, and when she was murdered, it was her unborn daughter's magic that kept the latter from death as well. Professor Dumbledore and a hysterical James delivered the baby, who was also near death, before leaving Godric's Hollow, sending the Keeper of the Keys, Rubeus Hagrid, to pick up Harry under Dumbledore's orders. As James awaited his daughter's struggle for survival, his old teacher explained the circumstances surrounding Lily's sacrifice and its effect on her son. By dying for Harry, she placed a spell that protected him from Voldemort and his followers; the only catch was that to ensure the toddler's safety, he needed to be with a blood relative of his mother's, and would only break the moment Harry came of age or if he no longer called the place of his mother's relative "home".

The only living relative named Petunia Dursley, a Muggle woman, who lived with her husband, Vernon, and their son, Dudley. The only way to ensure Harry's safety, Dumbledore told James, was to send him to live with the Dursley's.

James, through a storm of tears and torrent of screams, refused to lose any other family seeking to hold onto his children, one who had just escaped death and the other who was approaching. However, upon the revelation that Death Eaters attacked many homes of the Order of the Phoenix in search of Harry, James was forced to admit that in order for Harry to survive and grow up to live a happy life instead of one in hiding, he had to be sent away. So with a heavy heart, James gave Harry to the Dursleys, choosing to take a dying Holly and hide away in the Muggle world. Dumbledore warned him that if he staid in Harry's life, the youngster could never called Number Four Privet Drive his home and Lily's protection would fail. James took Holly and disappeared to the US, leaving his friends to fend for themselves and for Harry to grow up without a family.

It was the hardest decision James Potter had ever made, and it was one he regretted every single day since. But, if he wished the best for Harry, it was the only option.

Time went on, Dumbledore making occasional visits, and Holly's magic began to grow. This intrigued the Professor as all thought she would be practically a Squib since her magic was drained while keeping her alive after Lily's death. There was no explanation as to why Holly displayed accidental magic, but for James, it changed nothing. He taught her little of practical magic, but he taught her of the wizard world through stories of his youth. Years passed and James lived, pretending to be a Muggle. Eventually, though, it all became too much for Holly Potter to handle.

When a rain storm rolled over Papio Bay, while James Potter closed his coffee house just after nine that night, our story starts. There was nothing outside save for a few thunderheads and the moon dancing along the horizon in he distance. James locked the main entrance as Holly leaned against the passenger seat door of the family car, rain droplets just beginning to fall.

As the weather crashed down, James fumbled with his keys, unlocking the vehicle, and slipped one into the ignition. His thirteen-year-old daughter hopped into the passenger seat, rolled down the window, and leaned back, staring restlessly at the world around them. James put the car in gear, pulling away from the street, shifting into the light traffic home.

"Roll the window up, Holly." Even after fourteen years in the States, James still held strong to his British accent; Holly, on the other hand, had adopted an American one long before. "It's going to start raining soon."

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar – his daughter never moving a hand to fulfill his request yet the window moved on its own accord. For a second, James did not realize what he had witnessed until he caught sight of Hollys forefinger flexing, and he stepped on his brakes in the middle of the deserted intersection. The car's inhabitants were thrown forward, seatbelts digging into their torso. Holly cursed lowly under her breath, rubbing her neck to relieve the minor ache she was quickly developing.

"What the hell was that for?"

James held his breath before slowing blowing out, trying to calm his raging nerves. "You know that you are not allowed to use magic, Holly." The young girl opened her mouth in protest, but he continued, ignoring any action she made. "Damn it; don't make me tell you again. Do I have to remind you what is at risk if someone-"

"-Finds out about us, I know," she grumbled in reply, sulking in her chair. "Doesn't matter than I'm thirteen and should be at magic school-"

"We've been over this before, and I reckon you remember my answer."

Holly leaned back in frustration, blowing her dark fringe from her hazel eyes. This was the same argument her father and her had been fighting about for the past three years, since she truly started coming into her magic. Yes, she understood they had to stay hidden. But if there were such things as glamour charms and polyjuice potion – why was James keeping her away? It was her birthright, her identity – the very core of who she was. To fight it felt as if a part of herself was being hidden away from the rest of the world. And wasn't that the truth? Wasn't her father blatantly telling her to be someone else? Her magic was fighting tooth and nail, clawing at her insides to be let out. Suppressing it only seemed to make matter worse, and the reason Holly was fighting so blindly to be allowed to practice wizardry was because it was slowly building up inside her. She was a walking time-bomb, and sooner or later, the magic would explode, destroying anything it could that wished to prevent it from being free.

"Doesn't mean it's right," Holly muttered under her breath, feeling the tension settling in the car.

James continued to drive, staring straight ahead. "My decision is in your best interest, Holly," he announced, casting her a sideways glance. "If staying away from magic keeps everyone safe, then we'll bloody hell do it."

Holly whipped her head in her father's direction. "Just because you traded the wizarding world for the Muggle world doesn't mean I have to stay here!"

James slammed on the brakes for the second time that night; luckily, no cars were in the immediate vicinity. As the two sat in the vehicle amidst the pouring rain, night dawning upon them, the older man placed his head in his hands, shaking it slowly while Holly, breathing heavily, attempted to regain her bearings. It was an unspoken rule in the Evans's household that no one was allowed to draw up James's decision as a defense. Never, in all her thirteen years, had Holly resorted to such a low blow, reminding her father of the sacrifice he had made that cost him everything.

Holly could not imagine what her father went through all those years ago when he had to decide what was best for Harry and herself. In her deepest heart of hearts, she knew that he could not have protected her brother to the best of his ability while trying to keep her alive. James had no choice but to leave the wizarding world, and in the end, all that mattered to him was achieved: his children were safe. However, in doing so, the rest of his family suffered. His brother is all ways but blood was sent to Azkaban without a trial and his best friend was sentenced to a life of cruelty, judgment, and loneliness. It was something he could never come back from, and though it ruined his life, it saved Holly's… The least she could do, she reckoned, was be grateful that James loved her so much to give up everything he knew and loved, including his only son.

"Dad," Holly murmured as the silence dragged on, turning her eyes on her father. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry."

"No, don't just… Let's get home, alright?" James did not wait for an answer, choosing to step on the gas, staring straight ahead, his mind miles away… years away…

The silence lasted the rest of the car ride, and when they finally did pull into the driveway of the ranch-style house Holly had grown up in, James did not spare his daughter a glance and choose rather to hurry inside without giving the rain a second thought. Holly stayed in the car, slouching in the seat as she realized that it would be a while till her father was alright again. He'd wake up tomorrow, force a smile on his face, drown a beer or two, and head off to work. It had been like this for quite sometime. The fridge was never empty of alcohol, and while James wasn't an alcoholic, sometimes the pain from the memories and what could have been was too much for him to bear, so he turned to Budlight.

He was a good father, perfect in every Muggle way. Lily… Holly swallowed thickly at the mention of her mother, Lily had taught him well in the short few years they had been married.

Life had been fine growing up, and Holly couldn't ask for anything else. James taught her how to walk, talk, laugh, and play. He taught her how to write and read; he always helped her with her homework and never once did he put anything before his only daughter. In the beginning, when the accidental magic was sporadic and activated during her tantrums, did she see a change in her father. It wasn't big; he was just more resigned than normal and his alcohol intake increased. In the last three years, though, and her magic grew to a point she was learning how to channel it wandlessly, James was becoming like a loose spark. He was easily angered, and he claimed it was because Holly wasn't in control of her powers. That it could reveal who they were and put everything he had done into jeopardy. They had to stay hidden from the wizarding world; Professor Dumbledore was the only person who could know of their existence.

If the situation wasn't so complicated, Holly would propose her idea to her father. If he would just allow her to attend a school such as the SalemAcademy for Magic in Massachusetts or the Southern Institute for Young Witches in Alabama, Holly could go under a disguise or better yet as herself since no one knew she existed. There she could learn magic and be herself and learn to control what moved and lived and thrived under her skin. But because James Potter was supposedly dead, and Holly Potter had never been born, and Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived, Holly couldn't be who she wanted to be.

The teenager was just tired of pretending. She wanted to practice magic, and if her father wouldn't teach her, she would set out on her own to find a way.

"…That Potter bloke is barmy…" The next instant the glass in Holly's hand shattered to pieces as her eyes widened in shock, playing off the magical outburst as her own clumsiness.

It just happened to a normal week during July, the sun was burning down over the coffee shop even at the early morning hour, the clouds dancing just over the horizon. The sky was blue as far as the eye could see and a gentle wind whipped through the area. Things had calmed considerably since Holly and James's argument the weekend before, and it came to a point that it was never mentioned. It was a moment of weakness that was never addressed. Now, Holly spent her time at her day-job, having dropped the magic act around her father, choosing to practice in the dead of night instead. The coffee shop was an oasis in the Muggle world, and she found herself enjoying the consumers and their stories. The regulars were her favorites, always leaving large tips and being extra friendly.

Today, however, as she had been retrieving one customers order, his story caught her attention. "…You-Know-Who is back? It's not possible…" Holly leaned over the counter to clean up the broken glass, aware of her father's watchful gaze settling over her. "Dumbledore believes it because he said so!"

The man speaking was thin and balding with fluffy blonde hair and watery blue eyes. He was dressed in Muggle clothing, but if he turned just the right way, Holly could see the wand in the waistband of his pants. His companion was younger, perhaps in his mid-twenties, tall and lanky with a long nose and square-framed glasses hiding dark eyes. The two were conversing in hushed voices, but working behind the counter allowed Holly the perfect position to eavesdrop.

"I could care less. It's not like the Dark Lord has his sights set on America, so even if he is back, then I don't think…"

The voices drifted from the forefront of her mind when a hand clasped her shoulder, startling her from her concentration. She turned to find herself facing James, her father ushering her into the back room. When he closed the door behind her, she let out a shaky breath, trying to regain her bearings while her mind formulated a plan to go along with the news she had bore witness too.

"He's back!" Holly gasped, trying to make sense of the world. Reality had become slippery, and she could not seem to be able to hold onto any sensible idea. "The Dark Lord! You-Know-Who!" She threw her hands up into the air with exasperation as James meet her panicked gaze. "Harry… They were saying… Dumbledore… They…"

"Holly," her father said, placing a hand on her trembling shoulders which heaved forward with each drag of air she inhaled, the oxygen like sweet nectar to her burning lungs. "Holly, listen to me."

"Dad, they… They said… He's back!" Her pulse was racing; her heart was pounding. Cold sweat broke out across her brow, and she looked at her father for support, hoping he could provide some form of sanity in the god forsaken hour. "They… It's not possible."

James shook his head. "It's alright, Hol. It's just a rumor."

"You'd heard of this?"

James cast a quick glance over his shoulder, checking to make sure no one had heard the teenager's outburst. Once the area was clear, he paused before looking away, refusing to meet his daughter's accusatory glare. "Yes, I knew about it."

For a moment, the world stopped spinning, simply tilting on its axis. Holly felt the most unbearable coldness seep through her body, freezing her limbs and chilling her deep down to the bones, sending trembles up her spine and jolting her back to reality. The seriousness of the situation set upon her, and the thought that her father knew and yet did nothing about it… He was leaving Harry to die.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Holly asked him, unable to believe that he kept it from her. "All this time… How long have you know?"

"For a while," he admitted, lowering his voice so that they would not be overheard. "Dumbledore came by the house a few weeks ago when you were out, and he was in a rush, so there wasn't much time to discuss things. He told me that the Triwizard Tournament had occurred at Hogwarts this past year, and Harry's name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire." James ran a hand through his hair, fisting it as if to control his emotions. "He thought it had been a trap, but he had to let it play out, and sure enough, during the last task, Harry and another boy were taken from the Hogwarts grounds by a Portkey. Harry was used in a ritual to bring back V-Voldemort."

It was the first time Holly could remember her father using the Dark Lord's name aloud in front of her; since that fateful Halloween night, he had refrained from using His name because of what it had cost him to be so confident, thinking he could rebel without a care in the world. It was only when his family was threatened did James realize the seriousness of the situation.

"You… You never told me," she groaned, unsure of whether to run and hide or face her greatest fear. "You… He killed Mom!"

"Holly, listen to me. We are safe here-"

But Holly could have cared less about her own life. She thought of the brother who knew nothing of her existence thousands of miles away, the same boy who she hoped to one day meet. The same Harry she had always fantasized about, the one who would be the perfect older brother. The missing link of her family. The whole reason they were separated was so that he could be safe from the Dark Lord, and yet, he was closer to him now, more than ever. What could she do? She and her father needed to protect Harry now! He needed them.

"No, you don't understand! We need to go there now! You-Know-Who killed Mom! He could kill Harry next!"

"Holly, calm down! Harry is perfectly safe right now. Dumbledore is watching over him-"

"Dumbledore was supposed to be watching him before, and now the Dark Lord is back!"

"There is nothing we can do right now. You just have to trust – HOLLY MARIE EVANS, GET BACK HERE!"

The brunette paid her father no heed as she bolted from the back room, throwing her apron across the counter, passing the customers who had brought the news which changed her entire life forever. She pushed the front door, the bell tinkling behind her and ran. Her arms pumped at her side, and she only had one destination in mind: home. There, she could find some form of connection to Harry. Her life was spinning out of control, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. What use were the arguments over letting her hide under disguise at a magic school? They were petty and unworthy her time any longer; the fact that remained bold and alert now took over her entire being.

Harry was in danger.

The mantra kept playing in her head, resounding in her thoughts a million miles per nanosecond. There was no beginning and no end to it. It was like staring point blank at the end of a gun, no time to think or rationalize. The image of You-Know-Who killing Harry like he did Lily scared her deep to the core, pushing back any lucid thought she had. She was here, safe, with her father while Harry was in the Dark Lord's clutches, like a pig waiting to be slaughtered. She had to do something about it. What could she though? Revealing her identity would ruin everything James had worked for over the past fourteen years. But she couldn't stay here, could she? Was there a way she could protect Harry and still keep a secret?

That idea replayed as well. Protect Harry. Protect the Boy-Who-Lived. Growing up, Holly had been constantly told that it was her duty to protect her brother by making sure no one knew who she really was. And now, her father wanted her to sit back while Harry was in danger? It didn't make sense. She had to do something about it. She had seen what losing Harry and Lily had done to her father, and she couldn't possibly fathom what losing Harry would do to her. Sure, she had never met her older brother, but she had spent all her life building up the idea of what it would be like to have him know. When she knew how close she was to obtaining everything she had ever wanted, she just couldn't let that go. She had to help somehow.

A sharp crack reverberated around her, and Holly froze. It was the sound that Professor Dumbledore made whenever he appeared in their living room. She reeled as someone pulled her into a side alley between two business buildings. Her heart was thundering in her ears, but it calmed slightly when she recognized her father's disheveled figure. His hair was standing every which way and his hazel eyes were wide in panic.

"Merlin, this is why I don't Apparate…" he said to himself, checking the premises to make sure no one was watching, before wrapping his arms around her, and Disapparating.

Holly felt like she was being squeezed through a tube, shrinking and molding to fit a desired shape. When she finally opened her eyes, her vision blurred, and she only concentrated on trying not to vomit on the carpet of their home. James, meanwhile, waltzed across the living room, reaching into the waistband of his jeans to pull out a long stick.

His wand, Holly realized, something she assumed he had hidden away all these years. It would make sense, though, to have it on him at all times if You-Know-Who really had returned. She put her head in her hands and tried to regulate her breathing pattern as she felt the rush of magic leave her. Magic had never been used on her before; she wasn't prepared for the feeling.

"What the hell?" she screamed, knowing that she could yell all she wanted in the privacy of their own home. "Someone could have seen you, Dad!"

"Oh, now you care about secrecy!"

"What was that all about?"

"I knew you going to go off and do something stupid! I thought I had raised you better than that!"

"I was going home to get away from you!"

Holly braced herself for the onslaught of her father's anger, but James settled down, choosing to seat himself on their leather couch, shaking his head. She froze, face screwed up from all the bellowing and crying, hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palm. With a feeling of mingled dread and anger, Holly seethed through her gritted teeth, deciding to head to her room. She got as far as the staircase before her father's voice shot through the air like the crack of a whip.

"Stay here, Holly."

"So now you want to talk?" she said, slowly facing him. "Anything else you aren't telling me?"

"No," James said, but Holly knew perfectly well that he was hiding something from her.

"I don't believe you." She crossed her arms across her chest in defiance.

"I don't care," James said sharply, "But you will stay and listen to me."

"Don't bother," Holly seethed, "I already know what you're going to say. 'Don't tell anyone who you are. Don't use magic. Don't be a witch. Pretend to be a Muggle. Don't worry, Holly, everything's going to be alright. It doesn't matter that You-Know-You is back and could kill your brother any day now. No, we're just doing to sit here and do absolutely nothing-'"

There was nothing to follow her taunt as James pushed himself to his feet. His fury flashed across his expression as his eyes flickered wildly. "You are so much like your mother that it kills me!"

Both were breathing heavily, careening through the free fall of their words. Both phrases were set to attack the other's deepest weaknesses. Holly knew that "doing nothing" was her father's biggest regret, and James knew that Lily was his daughter's greatest sadness because she had never gotten to know the woman who brought her into the world. Both merely stood there, choosing to do absolutely nothing as it all came crashing down around them. Holly felt broken, out of her element, paralyzed with the circumstances that had been thrust into her arms.

Where was she supposed to go from here?

She swallowed her retort, a thick lump following, only to get lodged. Tears threatened to spill, and she faught like hell to keep them from falling. She would walk away from this fight with her head held high, but she knew she had been defeated. Her father… Now a new thought occupied her DANGER HARRY'S IN DANGER mantra.

Would things between her and her father ever be the same?

Without sparing her dad a second glance, Holly ran up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door shut. She knew without a doubt what the answer was.

No, things would never be the same.

Night had fallen.

The sound of her father's snores alerted her that it was late, but Holly wasn't thinking about the time or the slumber that would normally occupy her. Instead, the teenager was gazing out the window, staring up at the Nebraska sky. The moon danced along the horizon, full tonight, and a part of her wondered how James's friend, Remus Lupin, was fairing without his friends, the three animagi who had risked everything to make his life bearable. There had to be some consolation with his predicament. He was probably as lonely as she was tonight.

The night sky was speckled by many freckles of stars. Holly remembered years ago, on Christmas Eve when she was a small girl of four with her father, and he took her out to look at the Christmas decorations around the town. The two would bring a thermos of hot chocolate with them, and even after it got cold, they would bundle up in his car and just look at the star's through the sky roof.

It was the age where she believed in the nonexistent, mythological childhood Santa Claus, James would hold her in his lap, muscular arms wrapped around her scrawny torso. It was when the brisk season of winter would strike at full force, only leaving a short reprieve a few days before and after Christmas, long before the leaves blossomed on the trees. He would embrace her so that her head rested against his strong chest, feeling his heart thrum at a steady pace, while she clutched the fabric of his thick, winter coat.

"Look, Holly," he would whisper, his rich, baritone voice sinking lower, as if relaying a secret which could change the world. James would gesture to the sky where specks of light were scattered across the dark, velvet blanket above them. "There's the Christmas Star." From the millions of stars, he would choose the one that radiated with the most luminosity, easily seen on a clear night.

Holly's four-year-old head would perk up with attention, having successfully been manipulated into believing the impossible. "Really?" she would breathe out in her trilling, bell-like chime.

Her father affirmed the observation before elaborating with, "They say you can make a wish on it Christmas Eve." His hot breath tickled her ear as he brushed the chestnut waves from her face, leaning in to tell her the rest. "All you have to do is close your eyes and tell it what you want."

Speaking aloud, his words would capture her as the truth. Even today, Holly could still remember giggling in awe, her father mimicking her action. Finally, he would tilt forward to a point where she could taste the faint scent of coffee grinds and chocolate, and she would glance up to meet his gaze, seeing those familiar hazel eyes she had inherited looking back. Holly'd send him a full-tooth grin; he would smile back, and both would stare at the little balls of gas, pulsing with light as they twinkled.

He stopped those trips six years later, around the time Harry began to attend Hogwarts. Holly never knew why, but she missed them. It wasn't the wishes she desired, but the special tradition between James and her every year that made it seem like the rest of the world didn't matter. On a side note, part of her was glad to be done with those visit. They hurt too much because each time she really did wish upon the Christmas Star.

But her mom never came home.

Holly sighed, laying her head over her crossed arms as she continued to stare out the window. The day had taken its toll on her, and she was at a complete loss at what to do. Her heart was crying out louder and louder as time went out, telling her to save Harry. The late-night wars with herself were playing out, but she was still at a loss at what to do. What could she do? Yes, she might be able to get to England, but where was Harry? Perhaps she should try the Leaky Caldron in London and enter Diagon Alley there. Didn't her father say that's where the students bought school supplies? Maybe she'd meet Harry there, but what would she do once she was reunited with him? She had no control over her magic; it needed to be molded to match who she was as a witch. She didn't even have a wand for goodness sakes! Of course, she could always take her father's key for his vault at Gringotts, but from what he had told her, the goblins would probably realize who she was – that might cause trouble. James always said that goblins couldn't be trusted. Assuming that she got a wand, where would she continue? Be Harry's bodyguard for the rest of the time? No, it would never work. She'd have to harness her magic first, and she doubted Harry would enjoy it all that much. Holly knew she loathed the times her father tried to protect her – from magic and boys.

That left her with option two: stay in Nebraska. But how would that solve anything – other than the shambles of the relationship between her and her father. Holly shook her head, unable to comprehend the entirety of the situation. If she stayed where she was, her magic would continue to be repressed, her father would make all her decisions based on what he felt was "right", and she would not be able to protect Harry other than by keeping her silence. Option two would never work! She'd go crazy!

But then… There was always option three.

The idea of such a happening caused knots to form in her stomach. It was a step off from the first plan but combined more lies and pretending and fooling Albus freaking Dumbledore! There was no way she could ever hope to pull it off. But what if she did? She had to find a way to Diagon Alley, of course, and still get a a wand. Supposing she got past the goblins, she'd have to learn magic. Where else by Hogwarts? Professor Dumbledore would never let her, but if she disguised herself as someone else, an altogether new identity with no ties to the magical world whatsoever but exhibiting magical powers… She could pose a Muggleborn! Her dad had told her that in the First War, You-Know-Who had targeted Muggleborns and their families, murdering them – slaughtering them… It was such a horrible thing, but it would give her the perfect cover story.

She could be a Muggleborn whose family had been murdered, seeking protection from the Dark Lord.

The gears in Holly's head were turning faster than her rational mind was able to understand. Granted that she had little time before her father would notice her absence, Holly knew what she had to do.

She had to run.

Holly suffered from temporary insanity as she stumbled over to her closet, pulling the double doors open; she dug into the back corner for a duffel bag. Everything passed by in a blur as she gathered the necessities: clothes, her toothbrush from the adjourning bathroom, and her wallet… She would need money – the thought made her physically ill. She slung the backpack over her shoulders, slipping the duffel bag over her head as she tiptoed out of her room, down the hall where her father was sleeping. His snores could reawaken the dead. She was silent in her movements as she grabbed his wallet, reaching and grabbing a wad of twenties from the main pocket before returning it to its prior stance. She crept out of the room and down the stairs. As she made her way towards the front door, she paused, and hustled across the room where her father's study was located. Holly jiggled the knob but it was locked. She rammed her shoulder against it, and James's snores stuttered. Holly waited with baited breath as she waited for them to proceed before hissing under her breath, "Just freaking open up!"

The door, with a mind of its own, sprang open on her command; something sparked within her and she smiled as she realized she had used magic. She felt so alive whenever her powers came to the surface. It was one of the reasons she refused to be a Muggle. Holly ushered herself into the study and proceeded with one plan in mind. She scanned her father's bookshelf where she knew magic books were disguised as regular Muggle novels. She opened the backpack and shoved a few volumes in such as A History of Magic, Fantastic Beats and Where to Find Them, Hogwarts: A History, Greatest Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, and Magical Theory. She choose these partly for her own benefit and the other because they might help her on her journey. Finishing her packing, she backed out of the room, heading outside.

Once she reached the porch, she took a deep breath, turning to cast a longing gaze back at the house she had grown up in. For the first time in nearly fourteen years, she was on her own. But she had to do it. She had to run – now. Where she was going to go, exactly, she didn't know, but she was certain of one thing: She would protect Harry to the best of her ability. She wasn't going to see her father lose another family member, and she sure as hell was not going to lose the older brother she had never met before.

In an almost dreamlike state, Holly began her trek down the road, pulling her hoodie tighter around her. For the first time in her life, she was alone in all meaning of the world.