Chapter Nine: Fevers and Cheats

Holly stood in the middle of a wrecked house, looking down at the body of a woman with wispy blonde hair, her eyes closed forever.

"My wife," said the man standing next to Holly, wistfully. He nodded at the door. "And over there, in the doorway, that's me."

Holly looked up at him. He smiled wanly at her and held out his hand, politely. "Edgar," he explained. "Edgar Bones. My wife, Emily there."

"She was beautiful..." Holly muttered. Edgar laughed.

"She still is," he said. "Our only concern is our daughter. She had been staying with my older sister that weekend."

"That's sad..." Holly whispered. Edgar sighed.

"I'm just glad she wasn't here. You know, she was only two months old?"

"Why was she with your sister, then?" Holly asked. "Wouldn't it have made more sense if she'd stayed with her mother?"

"My job was too dangerous," Edgar explained. "I wanted Emily to go with her, but she's stubborn as a hippogryff, that one."

"I'm sorry for your loss..." Holly muttered, staring at the body of Emily Bones. Edgar snorted.

"Why should you be? We're content. I have a favor to ask of you," said Edgar Bones. "It's come to my attention that Gideon and Fabian have already contacted you. What did they say?"

"Nothing I could understand," Holly said.

"You are so much like your mother, it's disturbing," said Edgar. Holly frowned.

"You knew my mother?"

"Holly, you like the past tense too much," Edgar laughed. "But we have more important matters to attend to."

"And those matters are?" Holly asked.

"Your brother."

Holly sighed and fell into a nearby chair.

"As usual," she sighed. Edgar frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Well," said Holly, shrugging, "it's always about him, isn't it? Poor little Harry Potter with no one to look after him. Oy, why's he so important anyway? Dumbledore said I'm important too, you know."

Edgar smiled. "Holly, I'm surprised you haven't realized by now that you are important, extremely important, almost as important as your brother."

"Almost, but not quite," Holly muttered.

"Harry has a difficult task ahead of him. Just feel fortunate that you don't have that burden. You carry a different one."

"Whatever," Holly rolled her eyes.

"Listen, Holly," Edgar said. "This year is only going to get worse. Your dreams will become crowded. I think they already are. But for Gods sake, you need to be careful."

"I swear, I'm going to hex the next person who tells me to look after my brother and be careful!" Holly complained. "All of you are telling me the same thing! Dumbledore, McGonagall, even you and I don't know who you are!"

"Edgar Bones," explained the man in front of her. "And I know this is getting repetitive. But the point never seems to sink in."

"It's sunk in," Holly snapped. "It sank in last year when my best friend died!"

"I'm sorry for your loss, Holly," Edgar said. "But I can't tell you things will get easier. I have a bad feeling about the upcoming year. We don't know what is to come, but we can sense negative energy and the air is full of tension. Beware of the red-eyed snake, Holly."

"Yeah, yeah," Holly muttered to herself, before she woke up.


"She can't be serious!" Holly gaped at the Daily Prophet. She looked around to see if her friends were paying her any attention. "Fred? George?"

"... And then you'll be perfectly normal. I swear it, trust me!"

"Fred!"

"What?" Fred jumped at Holly's voice and shoved the suspicious bag behind his back. Behind him cowered a small group of first years.

"Holly," said George with a sugary grin. "Would you like a sweet?"

Holly glared at them. "I don't care what you do to the first years," she said. "I'm not testing your material. And you're not listening to me. Did you know Umbridge was High Inquisitor?"

"Yeah," said George as his twin immediately turned back to the first years. "Heard McGonagall talking about it in detention last night."

"Why were you in detention? You don't even take her class."

George grinned. "Remember when Umbridge's head had somehow became suddenly too big for her cardigan and she couldn't get it off?"

Holly laughed. "She couldn't even get through the door!"

"It was a reluctant punishment on McGonagall's part," Fred added as he watched the first years chew, satisfied. "But she had to do something. We didn't do anything in her detention. And Umbridge tested our Air Head Chews for us. Now, how do you feel?"

One girl looked up at him, blankly.

"I..." but before she could say anymore, she fainted. Soon, the library floor was littered with fallen first years.

"Brilliant!" Fred exclaimed, overjoyed. "George, administer the other end of the Fainting Fancies."

George wove his way through the maze of bodies, dropping a small purple candy into each of their open mouths. Within minutes, they were revived.

"Now how do you feel?" Fred asked.

"Not... bad," said the girl who'd looked at him originally. All the other first years muttered in confused agreement.

George turned to Holly.

"You sure you don't want one? You promised!"

"I withdraw said promise," Holly said, folding her arms adamantly.

Fake tears began to form in Fred's eyes. "Do you mean to say that you don't believe in us Holly?"

"That's a cruel trick to play and you know it!" Holly sneered as she swiped the bag of Skiving Snack Boxes. "What do you need tested?" she asked, reluctantly.


"Have you found my daughter yet?" It was the old man.

"No..." Holly said, slowly. "Sir, when did you see her last?"

"Yesterday," said the man, proudly.

"But you told me you couldn't find her a while ago. And now you've found her?"

"No," the man sighed, regretfully. "She can't help me anymore. I need to find my real daughter."

"I'm confused," said Holly, believing the old man to be senile. The old man smiled.

"You bear a striking resemblance to her," said the old man. "You must be her."

"I'm sorry?"

"You must be her," said the old man. "You must help me."

"Help you with what?"

"To find my daughter."

Holly felt as though the conversation was going in circles. "Sir, I thought you said–"

"No, no, no!" said the old man. "Erik needs to find his daughter."

"Is that your name?" Holly asked, tentatively. "Erik?"

"Yes, yes, that is my name," said the old man.

"And what's your daughter's name?" Holly asked. The old man frowned in thought.

"You know," he said. "I don't remember."


Darkness. Again. Holly was getting too used to getting knocked out.

"Miss Phillips?"

Holly answered with a groan.

"Good, you're coherent," said the voice, cheerfully.

"What was she saying about vacuum cleaners?"

"Quiet, Mr. Weasley."

"What's a vacuum cleaner?"

"I told you to– Well, I told one of you to be quiet!"

"You need to tell us twice. Once for each of us. We're pretty thick."

"Fred? George?" Holly groaned. She opened her eyes to see the two warm faces of the Weasley twins.

"I don't want to see anymore backfires of your experiments, do you understand me boys?" Madam Pomfrey was lecturing the twins.

"Hey, who said this had to do with us?" Fred asked. "We were just concerned about a friend. If this is how you treat innocent people who bring in an injured person they cared about, then we'll stop doing it!"

"Did I just hear you admit that you cared about me?"

"Hiya, Holly," Fred said, smiling down at her. "And no, you didn't, go back to sleep."

When Holly had convinced Madam Pomfrey that she was fully recovered, the twins took her outside.

"What'd I eat and what was in it?" Holly demanded of the twins, who were smiling guiltily.

"Our Fever Bean... It's got Murtlap essence, firefly spirit, Doxy wings– stole those off of the Doxies mum made us clean out this summer." George winked at Holly.

"What else?" Holly asked.

"Just a few other potions ingredients," Fred shrugged. "Oh, and red peppers."

"Red peppers?!" Holly exclaimed. "You idiots! I'm allergic to red peppers!"

"Oops," said Fred and George, shrugging simultaneously.

"Guess we'll have to put a warning on the side of some of our boxes, eh George?" Fred said to his brother, who smiled. "Thanks, Hol, you really helped us."

Holly rolled her eyes. "At least I didn't break out in odd spots this time. I'll see you later," she said, as she turned on her heal and walked down the hall.

George leaned in close to his twin. "You think we should tell her about that large purple rash on her back?"

Fred watched Holly's retreating back with a grin. "I'm sure she'll figure it out soon enough."


In Charms, Marietta sat as far away from Holly as possible. When Cho entered, Marietta beckoned her over. Cho looked from Holly to Marietta. She gave Holly a mysterious smile and indicated Marietta with a tilt of her head. Holly nodded to show she understood.

Cho sat down a desk away from Marietta. "Good morning," she said.

"Good morning, Cho!" Marietta said with the grin. "I love your hair today– but what am I saying, I love your hair everyday!"

"Um, thank you Marietta."

"Hello, Cho, Marietta! Why are you sitting so far away? You know I love to sit with you!" Holly sat her books down in the desk in between the two Ravenclaws. Marietta scowled as Cho suppressed a grin.

In class that day, they practiced illusion charms. Holly decided to have a little fun with it.

"Professor Flitwick!" whined the curly haired Ravenclaw. "I can't do this!"

"I'm sure you can, Miss Edgecomb," Flitwick said, not looking up from the papers he was grading.

"No, sir," said the girl. "I mean, I probably can if I really wanted to, but if I wave my wand like that then I just might break a nail! And you said this requires concentration, well, I can't concentrate right now! I have a hair appointment in Hogsmeade at four o'clock and I just can't decide whether to dye my hair purple or blue!"

The class laughed and Flitwick looked up at the girl and tried to look stern, but he couldn't help smiling as well. Meanwhile, scowling at the back of the class sat Marietta.

"Now, now, Ms Phillips! None of that. That is not what the illusion charm is meant for."

Holly grinned and waved her wand to transform her back to her original shape.

"Professor, I think this spell could come in handy," she said mischievously.

Flitwick smiled at her and addressed the rest of the class. "This spell, as Holly has just demonstrated, can be used to create the illusion that you are someone else. It can also help you blend in with your surroundings, or convince someone's eyes that they cannot see you. I'm actually surprised that Holly has mastered it so quickly, seeing as it's a very difficult spell which is why we're focusing on it in your seventh year. It can be used as an alternative to the Polyjuice potion, except the charm only deceives one sense: the eyes. For instance, if you are pretending to be taller than you are, someone needs only to pat you on the head to know you are not what you appear. It can also cancel the spell. Also, your voice does not change. Though I must say, Miss Phillips did an excellent impersonation of..." Flitwick trailed off as he noticed Marietta glaring at him and he coughed. "Right, class dismissed!"


The class was talking pleasantly until an unpleasant cough interrupted them.

"Hem hem!"

The class groaned as Professor Umbridge entered the room with a stack of parchments.

"I am handing back your tests," said Umbridge. "Many of you did... Well, I'm not going to lie to you poor dears. Most of you did awful, and plenty of you received Ds. I am very disappointed, this is not N.E.W.T level material! I was expecting more from you."

Holly saw the Weasley twins give each other high fives as Umbridge handed back their tests.

"What'd you get?" Holly asked.

"P!" the twins exclaimed together. Holly frowned.

"And that's something to be glad about?"

"Of course!" said Fred. "We were expecting a D."

"And you should have gotten one," Holly said. "Look at your awful spelling."

Fred looked at his paper and noticed she'd left him a note. "Would you look at that?" he said. "Looks like she thinks I'm dyslexic. She's ordered me to see Madam Pomfrey."

George looked at his paper. "It seems she thinks I've got ADD," he said. He thought about it a moment then nodded. "Actually, that would make a lot of sense."

"Don't be ridiculous," Holly said, snatching the paper from George. "You're perfectly fine." She looked at the paper and looked appalled. "These are pity grades!" she exclaimed. "She only gave you a P because she noticed all your doodles and figured you had ADD! She felt sorry for you!"

Fred looked back at Umbridge, who was scolding Angelina for her horrid grade. "I didn't know that devil woman could feel sorry for her own cat," he said. "Still, it's not like it's a passing grade, is it?"

Holly took Fred's paper. "She gave you that grade because you had 'creative answers.' Creative answers! 'William Slinkhard was some bloke who decided he could talk to squirrels and then wrote a book about what they told him!' And 'squirrels' isn't the only word you spelt wrong!"

"I didn't write that!" Fred exclaimed, outraged, taking back the paper. "Oh, I guess I did," he said, resigned. "I swear I'd mentioned he was dismembered by hydra... Oh wait, I said that about Woodrow the Wise. It makes sense now."

"Miss Phillips!" said Umbridge, thrusting her test onto her desk. "I hope you're satisfied. See me after class."

Holly closed her eyes in trepidation. Finally, she turned over the page and gaped.

"Well?" George said.

"I got an O..." she said, breathless. Fred blinked as George stared.

"O for awful?" Fred said, hopefully. Holly shot him a nasty look.

"Awful is spelt with an A, you twit!" she snapped.

"Holly, you didn't..." George said, slowly. Holly showed him the paper, which seemed filled with reluctant checkmarks.

"Alright, how d'you do it?" Fred whispered eagerly.

"Well, I read the chapter, but–"

"Not that," Fred interrupted, "I mean the cheating. How'd you do it?"

Holly glared at him. "I didn't cheat," she said coolly.

"Uh huh, sure," said Fred with a grin. Holly opened her mouth to give a biting retort, but she was interrupted by that noise she'd come to fear and despise.

"Hem hem! Open your books and read the next chapter," Umbridge looked at the class with demonic eyes. "Answer the questions on page 306 and there may or may not be a quiz next class– and you better do better. I'm not boosting anyone's grades out of the kindness of my heart." She glared pointedly at the Weasley twins while the class groaned collectively and took out their books.

"Professor Umbridge, I was wondering," Holly said, approaching the Professor's desk after class. "I mean, not that I'm ungrateful or anything, but you must have made a mistake in grading my paper– I don't think–"

"Well it's evident that you don't think, Miss Phillips," Umbridge snapped. She smiled politely as Katie Bell raised a curious eyebrow as she left the room. Umbridge closed the door with another hem hem. She walked calmly to her desk, glaring at Holly all the while.

"You're right," she said. "You don't deserve the grade you received. But I checked the paper seventeen times and there is not an error on it."

Holly frowned, confused. "Well, alright then, if that's the case, why don't I deserve–"

"Because, Miss Phillips," hissed Umbridge icily, leaning forward over her desk. "You cheated!"

Holly was appalled by the accusation. "Professor Umbridge, I can assure you, I did not cheat!" she exclaimed, outraged.

"In what year did Lloyd Lewiston violate code number 624?" Umbridge asked, an ugly determined grimace on her face. Holly blinked.

"I don't know," she said.

"Ha, I thought not," said Umbridge. She began to file her papers. "Stupid brats, never do realize they haven't read that section yet."

"Well, then how would you expect me to know it?" Holly demanded. Umbridge stopped and looked up at her, startled.

"I'm sorry, dear?" she said with false sweetness.

"If we haven't read it, how am I suppose to know the answer?" Holly sneered. Umbridge blinked and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, dear," she said. "I didn't realize that I... hem hem. Alright." Umbridge folded her arms and stared pointedly at Holly. "A fair question. Why was Woodrow the Wise labeled as such."

Holly thought hard about the question, but for the life of her the answer refused to come to her. She looked at Umbridge and was surprised to see her expression was worried and almost fearful. Her eyes narrowed.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" she asked, coldly. Umbridge was startled.

"What?" she exclaimed. "W-Why no, dear, everything is fine. Answer the question."

Holly bit her lip and stared hard at Umbridge's tiny black eyes. Suddenly, she felt she had the wisp of an answer. "When he... When he wrote his reforms on... On the use of defense magic in specific areas where it would be dangerous to the person using it, such as a high security vault in a bank or battle grounds where magical residue still remained."

"And?" Umbridge prompted.

"And... And the use of magic in Muggle– I mean, non-magical areas," Holly finished. Umbridge was dumbstruck.

"You may leave, Miss Phillips," said Umbridge, trying to catch her breath. Holly smiled. She couldn't help but feel like she'd had a small silent victory against the Professor. She had reached the door when Umbridge made her hesitate.

"I know you cheated, Miss Phillips," she said, bitterly cold. "And when I can prove how, I will make sure you are dealt with by the proper authorities."

Unsure of exactly what she meant, Holly shrugged it off and exited.

"I didn't cheat," she said resolutely, and went to meet her fellow Gryffindors in the Great Hall for supper.