Special thanks to Chuck for looking this over.

Chapter 3: Back to Hogwarts

"Psst!" Alex mumbled when Ms Michaels turned to the chalkboard.

"What?" she whispered back for the first time.

"Do you play catch?"

"No," she replied and spared a glance at their teacher to make sure she didn't notice. "Do you?"

Alex nodded again. "It's easy."

"Can you show me?"

"Yeah, but we have to get a ball."

"Okay."

Ms Michaels glanced at the clock. "We'll continue when you get back from break," she said, then eyed Alex and Holly. "And a reminder that there's to be no whispering while you're working."

Holly felt herself grow warm. Alex gave a sheepish smile just before the bell rang.

They headed to the storage cupboard where all the play stuff was kept, dodging a crowd of students. Alex handed her a red ball and started tapping his foot.

"Are you okay?"

Alex pinched his face. "Um...I have to use the fa-cil-ities."

Holly frowned. Sometimes, Alex used big words only their teacher knew. "What does that mean?"

He started hopping from foot to foot. "I have to go to the loo."

Holly grimaced. Ew. "I'll be at the tree."

"Okay."

She went outside. Everyone was already playing, but she knew Alex would be there soon. He was always 'punctual', which he said meant 'on time'. For a boy, he was okay. Alex made her laugh and have fun. He sat with her at lunch yesterday and helped her with their history work. He was really good at learning dates and places, and he didn't make her feel dumb.

Having a boy for a friend also kept Dudley from bothering her. For the rest of yesterday and today, he didn't look at her once. She hoped it would last by tomorrow. Ms Michaels gave out behaviour reports for the week every Friday afternoon, and she knew Dudley's wouldn't be good.

Alex ran over to her. "Back."

She tossed him the ball and sat under the tree. "How do you play?"

"Just toss the ball back and forth."

That was it? Holly thought it would be harder. "Oh, okay."

They took turns tossing the ball and talking.

"Why do you like space so much?" she asked him after he said that moonlight was really reflected sunlight.

"It's really cool," he said. "It's really big and there could be people on other planets!"

Holly thought about it. A planet full of Dudleys would be terrifying. She shuddered. "Yeah, I guess." She tossed the ball back to him.

"So what do your parents do? My mum's a therapist and my dad's an engineer," said Alex proudly. "She helps people and he builds things."

Holly caught the ball and stiffened. "My parents are dead."

There was silence for a long moment.

"Oh," Alex finally said, shifting uneasily. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

She tossed the ball back.

Alex scratched his head. "So, um, who do you live with?"

"Dudley and his parents. He's my cousin."

Alex blinked. He looked between her and Dudley in shock before finally saying, "You two don't look alike."

Holly shrugged. She didn't know what her mum and dad looked like, so she had no way of knowing.

Alex watched him and his friends bother the younger kids. "Is he like that all the time?"

"Yeah. My Aunt and Uncle give him whatever he wants," she replied, feeling rather cross. She had to do everything right just so that they'd accept her, while Dudley could do whatever he wanted.

"Oh." He tossed the ball into the air a few times. "Why just use your powers to make him leave you alone?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, the thing you did with the ball to make it go really high. It was in the air for half a minute before it came back down."

Holly hoped that he wouldn't remember that 'bout of freakishness. She swallowed. "I don't know what you're talking about. It was only a few seconds."

"No, I saw it disappear," said Alex, frowning as he tossed her the ball. "It went really high."

"It was just a few seconds."

"No it wasn't."

"Yes it was."

"No it wasn't!"

"Yes, it was!" said Holly with a scowl, squeezing the ball tightly. "It only took a few seconds! You just weren't looking properly!"

Alex looked rather angry. "I—" Then he stopped and took a deep breath. "Fine. Yeah. Maybe it got stuck in the tree?"

Holly nodded quickly, tossing the ball back to him. "Yeah."

Neither of them mentioned it was less bouncy than it was before.

~•~

"How come you weren't on the train?" asked Fay Dunbar, one of the quieter girls in her dorm after the Feast. She had a long-running ambition of becoming an Auror and a love for Quidditch that rivalled Ron's.

"Oh, the barrier closed on Ron and me, so his parents us Flooed to Hogsmeade and we spent a few hours there," said Holly, slipping on her nightgown.

She had had a suspicion that Dobby was responsible for them not catching the train and blocked the barrier somehow. Luckily Ron had been a good sport about it.

"That's—"

"You spent the day with Ron Weasley?" interrupted Parvati, flabbergasted. "What was it like?"

"Okay, I guess. Hogsmeade was pretty cool. It was nice to see the village early, but it was only for a couple of hours."

"Where'd you go?" asked Lavender. "I heard that Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop is the best place for romance."

Holly laughed in disbelief. "Romance?"

"All the older girls talk about it," said Parvati, her voice taking on a dreamy quantity. "It's decorated so nicely, covered in bows and little hearts."

Holly struggled to keep her face neutral. "Sounds like...quite the place. But Ron and I didn't go there, of course."

"Obviously!"

Lavender nodded so quickly it looked like her head was going to fall off. "That's only for proper dates, of course, when we're in our third year and can go with the older boys. It'll be so much fun!"

"Proper dates?" echoed Holly. They were only twelve!

"Yes, of course," Parvati nodded eagerly. "Not that Weasley is a bad sort, but your real first date should be with someone..."

"Cooler," Lavender gushed. "And fanciable. Oh, and handsome!"

"Like Lockhart!" Parvati beamed. "Oh, Holly, have you read the books?"

"Forget the books, have you seen him on the cover of Witch Weekly? That smile of his...what does he do to make it so bright?"

"I can't wait for tomorrow!"

Holly snuck a look at Hermione to gauge her opinion, but she was reading one of their Lockhart textbooks intently, nodding along. Across the room, Fay was doing the same on her bed, her brows furrowed with scepticism. Sally-Anne laid next to her, pointing at what looked to be a picture rather keenly.

She didn't have any real opinions about Lockhart, having never met him. Ron and the twins had and they weren't impressed. They'd seen him earlier in the summer at Flourish and Blotts signing their very expensive textbooks and 'acting like a ponce'—Ron's words. Percy didn't care for him much, but insisted that they give him respect as a teacher, and Ginny had been so quiet it was hard to tell what the girl thought.

Still, Holly was willing to give Lockhart the benefit of the doubt. After all, she and Alex didn't exactly hit it off at first blush; now they were more-or-less bosom buddies.

Yawning, she climbed into bed, pulling her four-poster closed. She'd just have to wait and see.

"You're still working on that?" asked Ron as he scribbled something down for his Herbology essay that Friday.

She nodded. "The sooner I get it, the better my essay will be." And the faster I'll re-adapt to wanded magic. Transfiguration had been terrible that week and McGonagall was keeping a close eye on her.

Ron dipped his quill in his inkpot and scowled. "I'm out of ink."

Holly wordlessly passed him a fountain pen.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Were you able to fix your wand?"

Said wand was falling apart; Ron had bound it together with some borrowed Spellotape, but it didn't seem to help. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and when he tried to cast spells it had begun to smoke.

Ron shook his head dejectedly. "It's too old."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It has to be, wands last a really long time and Mum got it from her side of the family for Charlie. I reckon I just have to work with it."

Holly frowned and went back to practising, muttering the incantation and tapping her beetle. "Finally."

"At least you were able to do it," said Ron as he eyed the perfect coat button.

"Thank Merlin." She took out her parchment and pen. A thought came to her. "Hey, do you know anyone who's good at drawing?"

"Dean is. He's always putting up these 'sketches' on his side of the room. Why?"

Holly shrugged, knowing full well she couldn't tell him that she and Alex needed someone to design the Eternal Elixirs logo. "Just wondering."

They returned to their work.

"Why's that firstie staring at you?" whispered Ron when he finished, giving someone to their left a suspicious glance.

Looking up, she saw the very small, mousy-haired boy from the Sorting gape at her as if transfixed. She rose an eyebrow at him and the boy went bright red.

Holly turned back to Ron. "No clue."

He gave the firstie a rare considering look. "Strange."

"Almost as strange as your sister."

"Oi!"

"Um, hello," a voice said. The boy seemed to have gained a bit of courage and had walked up to them, standing a few feet away.

"Hi."

"I-I'm Colin Creevey. D'you think—would it be all right if—can I record you?" he said, raising the camcorder hopefully.

"A video? Of me?"

"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead." His eyes raked her hairline and Holly fought the urge to pat down her fringe.

Ron and Holly shared a glance.

Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm recording everything to send home to him and my mum. And it'd be really good if I had a video of you." He looked imploringly at Holly.

Her gut instinct was to say no. She still wasn't used to having people fawn over her, and Ginny and Colin were two people too many. But beneath the obvious excitement in Colin's stance was a fear of rejection that Holly knew all too well. Ron made to speak but Holly beat him to it. "I don't mind."

"Holly!" hissed Ron.

"Deal! I'll go get my tripod!"

Before either of them could respond, Colin ran up to the boys' dorm.

"What's a video?" asked Ron.

"It's," she thought for a moment, "it's like a wizarding photo. Only it has sound. And it goes on for longer than a few seconds."

"Why'd you say yes?"

It was a fair question. "Hermione," she said. "He reminds me of Hermione."

Ron reddened, no doubt remembering his actions last year that lead to the troll incident.

"We were both rude to her. I don't want to do that again."

Colin returned, carrying a metal frame in his hands with a wide grin. "Do you know what you're going to say?"

"We'll surprise you, right Ron?" she said, tapping his shoulder.

"Okay," he sighed as if prepared for the worst.

Colin finished setting up. "Action!"

Holly wrapped a spare towel around her hair and left the bathroom.

"Holly," called Fay, who had stopped talking to Sally-Anne, "is Ron alright?"

"More or less."

Sally-Anne wrinkled her nose. "Isn't he still vomiting slugs?"

Holly winced. Word had travelled fast. "He's doing a lot better now." By the time they'd left Hagrid's Ron was hiccoughing occasionally, but only bringing up two very small slugs.

"Malfoy buying his way on through…" Fay shook her head in disbelief. "Slytherin must be desperate to win this year. The Nimbus Two-Thousand and One isn't the best broom on the market for nothing. Did you know its top speed is one hundred and fifteen miles per hour?"

Holly didn't. Her Nimbus only went ninety. "The player is more important than the broom," she said, quoting Oliver. "Besides, we won last year, I'm sure we can win again."

Fay looked doubtful but dropped the subject, returning to her conversation with Sally-Anne.

She dressed and climbed into bed, pulled her Silenced curtains shut and called Alex.

"Hey Holly," said her friend, who sounded to be in much better spirits than their last encounter. "How's Hogwarts?"

She recounted everything that had happened during the past week, from Lockhart's awful teaching to Colin's odd fascination with her.

"Hopefully the video of Ron and I—"

"Ron and me," corrected Alex.

"Will be enough."

"I don't think it will. He'll probably ask again."

Holly crinkled her face at the thought. Colin had already greeted her five times today, looking as if all his dreams come true each time she replied. "I hope not."

"What about the logo?" asked Alex.

"I'll ask Dean about it tomorrow." Holly yawned. "Sorry, it's been a long day. Oliver had us on the pitch for nearly three hours before Slytherin came, and we were at Hagrid's till lunch."

Alex was silent for a moment. "I can't believe Malfoy would say that to Hermione."

"I can. Malfoy's always been a spoiled little git. I just wish I did a bit of..." she wiggled her fingers on her right hand.

"And I don't suppose he'll get in trouble?"

She snorted. "After buying new brooms for the Slytherin team? Not a chance. Snape was pissed we won last year, he's not going to punish his golden boy."

"Figures."

"I swear, he's worse than Mrs Armstrong. He hates me for no reason."

"I thought she hated you because you turned her wig blue."

Holly smirked at the memory. "That was an accident."

"Right."

"Hey, she hated me from day one. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

Alex hummed.

"How's everything with you?" she asked.

"Pretty good. Oh, and I found a print shop that can make copies of the logo once Dean draws it. It'll cost less than Diagon Alley and we won't get any hard questions." She heard him click a few keys. "Check the link."

She eyed her screen sceptically. "This better not be another Rick-Roll."

"Of course not." Alex scoffed. "And I can't believe you think that I'd do something so juvenile. Again."

"~We're no strangers to love..."

"ALEX!"

His laughter filled the air, mixing with the dance-pop melody.

"Yeah, yeah, you've had your fun," said Holly with a scowl, turning off the song. Then she grinned. "Now brace yourself..."

"Because that never gets old," muttered Alex.

"For this news! I found a spot where I can brew potions without anyone getting suspicious. Percy told me about the potions lab at the basement of the Tower that no one uses. It'll be perfect."

"Really? That's great."

"Yeah, I can't wait to get started. But how is it going to work? Hedwig can carry a lot and she'd appreciate the workout, but it would get suspicious if she makes constant trips."

"You're right. I—"

"ALEXANDER!"

Alex groaned. "Dad's calling me. We'll talk later, alright?"

"Alright. Bye."

The next week passed in a haze of classes, potion-making and Quidditch practice. Holly had hoped Hermione would see that Lockhart wasn't as great as his books made him seem, but she was stubbornly steadfast, even after the Cornish pixies incident. It sparked an argument in the dorm between Fay, who felt Lockhart wasn't giving them the best Defence education, and Hermione who wanted her to give him the benefit of the doubt. Lavender and Parvati had agreed with Hermione, much to her dismay, while Sally-Anne backed Fay. Holly opted to remain neutral, which had both sides feeling betrayed.

Tensions in the dorm were high as a result, and Holly hoped that the birthday party she and Ron set up for Hermione would ease things over. Their usual corner was decorated with ribbons and the non-explodable luminous balloons she bought from Hogsmeade and last year's Christmas crackers.

"Do you know any wrapping spells?" asked Holly as they waited for Hermione to come back from the library.

Ron yawned and raised his wand. "My mum uses this one. It's nothing fancy, but I reckon it should work."

"Maybe I should cast the spell," she said, eying the sparking wand dubiously.

Frowning, Ron put his wand away. "The spell is hoc donum involvent."

"Hoc donum involvent!" she repeated, pointing at the present she bought at Hogsmeade. Simple red wrapping paper covered the book, held in place with a golden bow.

"Do you know when she'll be back?" asked Ron as she cast the spell on the packet of Toothflossing Stringmints.

Holly shook her head. "We haven't been talking much over the last few days. She's still angry I didn't defend Lockhart."

"When will she realize she's wrong about that fraud?" said Ron with a scoff. "He bungled up catching Cornish pixies; my mum can do that!"

She shrugged.

"No wonder she spends so much time in the library. Books don't argue back and she can fawn over Lockhart in her little corner."

Holly frowned, caught off-guard with the redhead's criticism. "What's with you all of a sudden?"

Something flashed in Ron's blue eyes. "Er, what do you mean?"

She contemplated explaining herself, but she wasn't looking forward to fighting with three of her friends in the span of two months. "Nothing," Holly finally said.

Ignoring the awkward silence, she looked over the Common Room. Colin was currently engrossed in the Weasley twins' salamander firework project, giving her a reprieve from constant questions and fawning.

"I'll be right back," she said to Ron after spotting Dean. She hadn't gotten around to talking to him about her project, after all.

Making her way through the room—which was now in a frenzy due to the whizzing, whirling salamander and the yelling Weasleys—she sat down next to the black-haired boy.

"Hey Dean."

He looked up at her with red-tinged eyes, stuffing a piece of paper in his robes. "Oh, hi Potter."

"What's wrong?"

Dean was silent, choosing to stare at the salamander that was running towards the fireplace.

"Dean?" she asked again.

"It's my da. He's in the fire brigade and he got burned really badly putting out a fire."

She winced. "I'm sorry."

He sighed. "Thanks. So what did you want?"

"Ron was telling me that you're good at drawing?"

"Yeah, why?"

Holly quickly explained 'her' idea of the Rod of Asclepius, only with said rod replaced with a wand shooting off multi-coloured sparks. Dean seemed interested, and before long they had settled on how the final product would look.

"Ten Sickles, before Christmas," said Dean. "I can do that."

"Great." She paused, then said, "You know, burn-healing paste might work for your dad."

Dean perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah, I think Pomfrey used some for Neville last week after he burned his hand."

"But Neville's a wizard. Are you sure it's alright for my dad to be using it?"

"Yeah, a lot of potions are safe for Muggles, and your dad already knows about magic. As long as your family keeps it quiet there's no reason why he can't use them."

He still looked conflicted, so she added, "I can make some for you if you'd like."

Dean looked uncomfortable. "Er, no offence Potter, but you and Ron aren't exactly the best in Potions."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Because Snape is a fair teacher? Look, I was only making a suggestion. Nab some off Pomfrey if you'd like." She looked at the portrait hole to see Hermione emerging, and made her leave to rejoin Ron.

September drifted into October, and with it came heavy rain and an increase in Quidditch practices at Oliver's behest. By late October they were practising every Friday, Saturday and Sunday morning or night for three hours each, leaving her little time to do anything else.

Fred and George, who had been spying on the Slytherin team, had seen for themselves the speed of the new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. They reported that the Slytherin team was no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like missiles.

Holly entered the Common Room just before curfew after that Friday's practice, pulling her still-damp hair away from her cheeks. She spotted Ron and Hermione over in their usual corner surrounded by textbooks and parchment.

She sighed. Might as well see what this argument is about. Hopefully I won't have to pick sides.

"Owl your mum, then," Hermione was saying as Holly sat down.

"Are you mad? She'd say that it's not so bad and that I'm overreacting." Ron looked warily at his Spell-o-taped wand. He had added another piece of tape to cover the exposed unicorn core.

Hermione harrumphed. "Well, you aren't going to pass if you don't sort that wand out."

"I know that! Merlin Hermione, you've said it about a thousand times! You don't have to keep reminding me!"

"I'm only trying to help! The way you keep going on about how your wand's not working, I thought you'd like some suggestions!"

"Well I can't bloody well use any of those suggestions, so how much help are they?"

"Ron," Holly said, interrupting the fight. "How about I help you out? I have some Galleons leftover and—"

"I can't use your money!"

Hermione beamed. "That's a great idea, Holly! We could talk to McGonagall and—"

"No!" Ron shouted, causing her and Hermione to stare at him in confusion. Colour suffused to his face and he shoved his wand up his sleeve. "I'll owl my dad about it, he'll sort it out, alright?" Before they could say another word, he gathered his books and disappeared up to the boy's dorm.

Hermione scoffed. "Well. There was no need to snap at us."

Holly raised an eyebrow. Ron had never come out and said it to either of them, but surely she noticed the hand-me-down clothes and worn shoes? She seemed about as clueless as Alex was when he innocently asked why her secondhand dress looked so old all those years ago. Not wanting to bring it up if Hermione hadn't discerned it by now, she said, "Yeah, I guess."

"Well, there's nothing for it. If he wants to fail, then he can fail."

"He does well enough on the essays and tests," she said in his defence.

"That's not enough," said Hermione, shaking her head. "Wandwork means just as much, if not more, to our marks. That's why Neville has such low marks in our wanded classes."

And you, Holly knew Hermione wanted to say. Last year, Holly had had a bad habit of overpowering her spells. The same amount of power that would gently lift an object wandlessly, sent it careening into the ceiling with it. Whether it was because of the magic of Hogwarts or the wandless magic she had gotten used to before, she had no clue. It wasn't until mid-October that she was able to fine-tune how much focus she put into her spells. It wasn't something she enjoyed talking about, especially since it partly contributed to the troll incident.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow," said Holly. "I'm sure he'll be more willing to listen then."

Hermione looked doubtful but agreed.

"Hey Ron," said Holly as she sat next to him. Oliver had kept them so long she missed breakfast and nearly missed lunch—and the opportunity to speak with Ron.

He ignored her, opting to chew his sandwich furiously.

"We're sorry for bringing up...well, you know. We weren't thinking."

He swallowed before saying, "That's a first."

Holly ignored the slight. "I came up with another plan. Remember our first Quidditch practice?"

Ron glared at her, no doubt recalling how it ended for him. "Yeah?"

"Your wand worked then, didn't it? You cast a spell without the incantation!"

"Yeah, it worked, up until I was the one spewing up slugs instead of Malfoy."

"That's because you were angry."

"Can't imagine why?" muttered Ron under his breath.

"What I'm saying is that your spell got overpowered somehow. Probably because you're frustrated using it."

"Of course I'm bloody frustrated! The hair's sticking out and I can't—" he stopped himself, stabbing a slice of roast beef with a fork.

Knowing she was standing on thin ice she carefully continued, "Have you tried to do the spells without saying the words?"

Ron frowned. "That's what they do after OWLs. Percy's working on it now, I reckon."

"But you can do it though, you've already done it!"

Ron flushed. "That doesn't mean I can do it all the time. Even the sixth and seventh years have trouble with it."

"You could at least try, since you don't want us to help or talk to your folks." When he still looked reluctant, she added, "What if they hold you back a year?"

Ron looked worried now. "Well...I guess it wouldn't hurt. But who do we ask? Percy'd tell us to bugger off and the teachers won't take us seriously."

Holly looked around the Hall. There were very few people left, none of whom were paying any attention to her and Ron.

"Well...I might know a spell or two," she admitted.

"Seriously? Wicked!"

"Shh! I don't want the whole world to know!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Ron said, still looking at her in awe. "How'd you learn how to do it?"

Memories of practising spells in the smallest bedroom, staying as quiet as possible with her spell cheat sheets hidden close to her chest flashed. "Oh, just practice and all that."

"Can you do one?"

Holly grinned, taking out her wand. "Sure. I can do the Levitation Charm and the matchstick-to-needle transfiguration." Among others.

With his agreement, she aimed at a roast beef platter. Wingardium Leviosa, she said in her head as firmly as possible. The platter lifted, hovering right at Ron's nose.

"Your lips didn't even twitch!" He said when the platter returned to its' original place. "Even Charlie has trouble with that."

Holly felt warm from all the praise. "It's a first-year spell." She flicked her wrist and allowed her wand to glow.

Ron shook his head in amazement. "Well, first-year spell or not, that was bloody brilliant."

"Still want to learn?

"'Course!"

"It won't be easy," she warned.

"Anything's better than what's been going on so far. When do we start?"

Holly smiled at his enthusiasm. "How about today? There's a few classrooms near the Tower that no one uses that'll be perfect."

"Alright, let's start with the matchstick to needle transfiguration," she said, picking up a splinter of wood.

"Why? We learned this last year."

"Exactly. That way if something goes wrong, we can fix it. Now let's get started."

They poked and prodded at their splinters.

Finally, Ron got impatient and said the spell aloud.

Holly frowned. "Non-verbal spells are supposed to be performed in your head. That's why they're called non-verbal. Try again."

"I'm concentrating as hard as I can," said Ron, speaking mostly between clenched teeth. "It's not that easy."

This isn't working, Holly thought. "Alright then. We'll practice the spell verbally, then start whispering the spell, and then we'll try non-verbal. Sound good?"

Ron nodded.

"But you have to master the spell. Instant transfiguration." She waved her wand over the splinter. It promptly turned into a needle. Another wave reverted it.

Ron's eyes widened. "Merlin Holly, how long did that take you?"

"More times than I'd like," she muttered. Transfiguration was not her favourite subject. "I had to practice a lot."

"How many times...?"

Holly pursed her lips at the unspoken question. "It took me about fifty tries to get that one perfect. I practised outside of class. I focused on what I was doing, then worked on getting it done faster and faster until I could do it with a wave, and then I tried saying the spell softer and softer until I didn't have to say it at all."

Then I repeat the process, only without a wand, she wanted to add but held back. She was already showing off quite a bit.

Predictably, Ron was rather intimidated. "I-I don't know about all this."

Holly decided to try another approach. "Ron, how long have you been playing chess?"

He furrowed his brow. "I dunno. Since I was four or five, I reckon."

"How often did you play?"

"Nearly every day."

Holly smirked. "And now you're one of the best, if not the best in Gryffindor."

Ron shrugged, the tips of his ears turning red.

"It's the same with magic. You have to practice to get good at it. That's why we're here." Holly Levitated her textbook wordlessly to her side. "Let's go over the spells we learned last year, okay?"

Ron managed the Levitation charm nearly wordlessly before dinner.

"That was really good. And your wand hardly acted up!"

Frowning, Ron looked at the piece of wood. "Yeah, but it wasn't completely non-verbal, was it?"

"Hey, Rome wasn't built in a day."

"Huh?"

"It means it takes time to accomplish great things. Remember, practice."

Ron, who was not an overly patient person in the best of times, groaned. "Do we have to do this every day?"

Holly was tempted to say yes just to see his reaction but remembered all the potions she had yet to brew, Muggle schoolwork and Quidditch practice. "No. How about once a week? Is Friday afternoon alright? I have a couple of hours before practice."

He frowned for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that works."

"Good practice!" called Oliver as they descended onto the pitch, marking the end of Sunday's practice. "That was the best one yet!"

"Oi, Oliver!" said one of the Twins.

"When are we going to get a break?" said the other.

"Yeah, we've been practising every weekend!" added Katie Bell.

"And we're getting better each day," he replied evenly. "That's it for today, remember, practice on Friday before the Feast!"

The rest of the team grumbled as they made their way to the changing rooms. Holly yawned and made her way towards Ron, who was writing in his journal.

"What are you writing?" she asked.

Ron snapped the book shut. "Nothing." He looked at the now-empty pitch. "Practice is over, then?"

"Yeah, the Ravenclaw team will be here in a few. Where's Hermione?"

The redhead shrugged. "How should I know? I'm not her keeper."

"Er, right," she said uncertainly. Hadn't they patched things up? "How about we go over to Hagrid's?"

They made their way down the familiar path in no time at all and knocked on the door of the hut. Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was. "Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me—come in, come in—"

The preteens followed him inside. Holly eyed the cupboards that took up every nook and cranny, full of all kinds of substances from sugar to dried dragon meat to Acromantula venom. The ceiling was no less interesting; dozens of drying herbs hung overhead, often of the kind that couldn't be cultivated and had to grow wild. Fungi and pieces of bark joined them as well as—her breath caught.

"Hagrid, is that unicorn hair?" she asked. The silvery bundle was as long as her forearm and as thick as her thigh. Given the difficulty in getting even a single hair from an adult unicorn... And if her eyes weren't playing tricks on her, the tips of many unicorn horns could be seen peeking from behind one of the higher shelves.

"'Course it is! Wha' o' it?" the friendly giant said, unaware of her gobsmacked expression. "Bin handlin' the herd meself fer years an' years. Poor sods be desperate fer groomin'." He waved the huge pink umbrella of his at the fireplace and flames started dancing merrily inside. Their warmth quickly filled the hut, chasing away the late-October chill.

"How'd you light that fire?" asked Ron, looking at the flames so intently that they reflected on his eyes.

"Wha? Ah... er... ehm...magic?"

A memory of Hagrid lighting the fireplace in the old shack the Dursleys dragged them to came to mind. "I forgot you could do non-verbal magic, Hagrid," said Holly.

"Err... best yeh na be talkin' 'bout it." Hagrid shushed them then looked over both shoulders as if to confirm nobody was watching from the windows. "I'm nae supposed ta do magic."

"Why not?" asked Ron. "It's a well-performed piece of spellwork."

"Yeh... yeh think it was good?" asked Hagrid, chagrined.

The redhead rolled his eyes, fingering the journal. "Clearly."

"Right... well... ah... if yeh think...!" He abruptly sat on his huge bed, making the heavy wooden construction creak dangerously. "I'm gonna tell yeh, but yeh not be spreadin' it to no-one, yeh hear?"

Ron and Holly nodded.

"It's re'l simple. Words don't matter much. Forget 'em. Yeh needa think 'bout what you want teh happen. Use yer min' eye. Picture what yeh want an' make it real."

Holly felt vindicated. "Told you."

"What else?" asked Ron.

Hagrid shrugged. "Practice. All yeh can do." He stood up. "Come an' see what I've bin growin'."

In the vegetable patch behind Hagrid's house were a dozen of the largest pumpkins Holly had ever seen. Each was the size of a garden shed.

"Jus' 'bout ready fer Friday."

"Wow," said Holly, impressed.

"How did you get them to grow so fast?" asked Ron.

Hagrid fingered his flowery pink umbrella. "Well, I've bin givin' them—you know—a bit o' help—"

Just then Fang made his way out of the Forest, making a beeline for Hagrid.

"There yeh are! Hungry, ain't yeh?" he asked as he petted the slobbering boarhound. "I'll be back."

Ron stared after them, his face pensieve. "Dumbledore's man through and through," he muttered.

"What?"

"You know, I reckon Hagrid is a better teacher than most people think," said Ron. "Mum says you can't conjure or transfigure good food with magic, you know. All you can do is make more of what's there or help it along the way."

Holly leaned against a pumpkin thoughtfully. "I guess that's why you lot never went hungry, right?"

He nodded. "Mum uses all sorts of spells to make enough for everyone, but they're only nine of us. Hagrid's been doing it for years. Ron pointed at the pumpkin. "I'd bet he has to grow one of those every day or two so that we get all the pumpkin juice we want."

More like all the pumpkin juice you want, she thought with a small smile, happy that he was back to normal. "And everything else."

The two of them stared at the huge crop, then at the rest of Hagrid's garden and facilities. Cabbages, carrots and an assortment of vegetables grew unobtrusively at the forest's edge despite the late autumn weather. Further along, chickens of impressive sizes and colours could be seen through the wire of the coop, and even further she could see wild hogs darting in and out of the forest.

No wonder the bacon tastes so good.

Hagrid stepped out of his hut and walked over to them, beaming at the state of his garden once again.

~•~

"Is your aunt coming?" Alex asked after school.

Holly looked around. She didn't see Dudley or his friends anywhere. "I don't know."

"Don't worry. Mum can drop you off if she doesn't come."

She looked around again. Aunt Petunia picked up and dropped off Dudley every day. She took Holly too, even though she didn't want to because she didn't want to look bad. But if she got the report from Ms Michaels, she wouldn't want her in the car. She probably already left.

Despite wanting to say no, Privet Drive was a long way from Privet Drive, and she wasn't completely certain of the way there.

"Alright," she said grudgingly, just as a grey car came into view.

"That's my mum," Alex said with a grin and pulled her up as he ran to it. "Mum! Mum! This is my friend, Holly."

The open driver's window revealed a woman around her Aunt's age with chestnut hair and honey brown eyes. She looked at Holly with a kind smile. "Hello dear."

"Hi," she said shyly.

"Do you need a lift?"

"She does Mum," Alex said before she could reply. Holly shot him a dirty look.

"Do you know where you live?"

She nodded. "Privet Drive."

Mrs Kann was a better driver than Aunt Petunia, and they were in Little Whinging in no time at all.

"What's your house number?" asked Mrs Kann as she turned onto Magnolia Road. Like Privet Drive, it was full of large, square houses with perfectly manicured lawns, all owned by large, square owners who drove very clean cars similar to Uncle Vernon's.

"Four," she said. Riding in a car was much more relaxing when she didn't have to worry about Dudley pinching her.

Alex's mum turned onto Hazel Grove and made a right onto Privet Drive. Her stomach gave a funny lurch when she saw Aunt Petunia's car in the driveway.

"That's number four," she said and unbuckled her belt. "Thank you, Mrs Kann."

"Not a problem, dear."

"See you Monday!" Alex waved as she slammed the door.

Holly waved back before she walked up to the house. She made sure they had driven away before she let herself in.

"Brat, get over here!" came Aunt Petunia's angry voice after the door slammed.

With a wince, she made her way into the kitchen. Petunia was at the table; Dudley sat next to her.

"We got a report from that teacher of yours. Saying my Diddydums and his friends beat up you and another student," said Petunia with a screech. "How dare you?"

That wasn't what happened. But Holly knew better than to say that. "The teacher saw everything!" said Holly instead.

"She made that boy hit me!" Dudley quivered his lip. His eyes filled with fake tears. "And I didn't do anything!"

Dudley's whinging had convinced her Aunt to send her to her room for the rest of the day. More than ever, she wished she could get away from Privet Drive.