Happy 2022 everyone. Special thanks to Chuck (via Discord) and weirdhuntergirl (via Tumblr) for looking this over. The story is better off for their betaing.
Chapter 6: Brewing Mandrake
"I'll hide this time."
"What? Why?"
"Because it's your house and you know where all the good spots are."
Alex huffed and covered his eyes. "Fine. One, two, three, four..."
Holly left his room, tiptoed past the twins' room and down the wooden stairs. Alex's mum had a patient, so they weren't supposed to be playing loud games, but Alex had gotten bored with Uno and there wasn't much else to do.
She dismissed the kitchen and parlour as hiding spots. Outside wasn't an option; though Mrs Kann had a machine in the room that muted outside sounds, she didn't want to press her luck. The closets were too easy.
"Coming down!" Alex whisper-shouted from the top of the stairway.
Better hurry. The house was larger than it looked. There had to be a spot somewhere.
Holly ducked into a nearby closet when he came down; Alex didn't bother to look.
He probably thought it was too easy. Ha! She could hear pillows hit the ground as Alex looked through the sitting room.
Maybe he won't see my feet if I hide behind here? she thought, looking over the wall hangings. Footsteps rounded the corner and she quickly ducked behind one.
That was close. Holly turned to leave when she noticed that the area she was hiding behind wasn't even with the rest of the wall.
Why is there a door here?
She turned the handle. It opened easily, revealing a dimly-lit room.
The room was small. Its ceiling was low, only a few feet higher than Holly was tall. A single window let in the mid-August sunshine, the beams of light highlighting the specks of dust that floated around the room. There wasn't much inside. Other than an old record player, an ancient-looking answering machine and some boxes, the room was sparse.
Holly closed the door behind her. She had to go fifteen minutes without being found to win, so she was stuck here for a while. She looked through the box of old clothes. They looked like the stuff people used to wear a long time ago, but different. Like a really long black coat that went all the way down and didn't open. Holly felt cooler after she tried it on even though it was heavy and too long for her.
The next box was full of old-fashioned books. One title caught her eye.
SO YOUR CHILD IS A SQUIB! by Idris Oakby
"Squib?" That was a strange word. She fixed her recently-acquired glasses and read further.
A Comprehensive Guide created by Squibs for Squibs to pursue their passions to the best of their abilities.
What is a Squib?
A Squib is a non-magical person with at least one magical parent. They are very rare.
Can Squibs learn magic?
Unfortunately not, but they are capable of seeing through Muggle-Repelling enchantments and caring for magical creatures!
Can Squibs go to Hogwarts?
Hogwarts does not accept non-magical children. They can be accepted as janitorial staff at Hogwarts upon reaching the legal age of an adult (17 in the Wizarding world, 18 in the Muggle world). They can also be accepted as a member of staff, such as a Muggle Studies teacher!
What options do Squibs have?
There are plenty of options for a Squib in the magical world! Education and career opportunities lie in the Muggle world, but in the magical world Squibs can become secretaries or cleaning staff, or if they're really ambitious, a Muggle Studies specialist, or more!
Magic? Magical creatures? Hogwarts? Holly put down the book. Her head was spinning. Magic was real? Was what she could do magic? Was that why her relatives hated her? She could do magic?
More excited than she could ever remember being, Holly upturned the box and went through the titles. She needed to find out more. Most of the books only had more Squib stuff, except for one thin title: Magical Concepts Made Easy by —
"Huh, this door's always locked," a voice said.
She slammed the book shut with a yelp.
"Sorry," he replied, but his ear-splitting grin showed he wasn't sorry at all. "You won." Then he frowned. "What's that?"
Holly eagerly told him everything.
But Alex didn't look convinced. "So you think you're a witch?"
"How else would you explain everything that's happened?"
"But magic isn't real."
Holly crossed her arms and huffed. "You think aliens exist. Why not magic?"
Alex glared at her but didn't say anything.
There was only one way to convince him. Holly stood up. "Look, try this on," she said, taking off the coat. "It's really cool."
"I'm not wearing a dress."
"It's not a dress!"
"How would you know?"
"I just know!" She stamped her foot. "Look, just put your hand in it and you'll see."
Alex muttered and grumbled but he eventually slipped his hand in the sleeve. His eyes widened in shock. "Woah."
"See? I told you," said Holly smugly. "It's a magical coat."
Alex looked bewildered as he withdrew his hand. "That's not possible."
"But it is! And look at this." She picked a book and handed it to him.
"My Life As A Squib by Angus Buchanan? What's a Squib?"
"Someone born without magic. But they have a magical mum and dad," explained Holly, turning her attention to the clothes box once again.
The sound of pages turning filled the air. "Or. So my mum or dad is a...Squib?"
"Or both of them." She put on a pointy hat. "That's probably why they have all this magic stuff." Holly reached into the box to take another coat – this one a pretty shade of blue – when she noticed Alex gathering several books. "What are you doing?"
"We have to learn more, don't we? I don't think mum or dad is going to tell us anything, and we might not be able to get in here again."
"Okay." Holly picked up Magical Concepts eagerly. "We're reading this one first."
~•~
"Very nice, dear. Absolutely stunning," said the mirror in the dorm bathroom.
"You know, I half expected a lab coat," said Holly as she smoothened the fabric.
Alex chuckled. "You like it then?"
"I love it." She spun around, admiring her new blue brewing robes in the full-length mirror. "I can't believe your mom actually got these for me. Tell her I said thank you. These are brilliant."
She slipped on the enchanted gloves that came with the robes and the spelled goggles that instantly covered her entire face in a semi-permeable bubble.
"How did the Polyjuice plan go?"
Holly sighed, taking off the goggles.
Hermione's potion lasted close to two hours, but it didn't matter—Malfoy had claimed that he wasn't the heir, as he and his goons had apparently discussed several times before.
"It is funny to see Saint Potter, the Mudblood collector and a Parselmouth to boot, getting the blame for all of this," Malfoy had said with a smirk. "If I knew who the heir was I'd give them a medal. They're doing Merlin's work."
"Malfoy's not the heir, he doesn't know who it is but he's thrilled at what they're doing. Hermione's in the hospital wing because she had cat hair in her potion. Ron has raid information for his father. The Malfoys have a secret room underneath their drawing-room floor that they've been using to keep Dark artefacts."
Alex was silent for a moment. "That's interesting."
"That's one way to put it, I suppose." She ran her hand through her hair idly. "Do you like your gifts?"
"Yeah! The toothflossing stringmints are really good and with the notebook we'll have a written record of everything related to the potions. Dad says it's best to have more than one record of anything."
"As long as you keep your book safe. I still have to find a hiding spot for mine."
"Well, there's no time like the present."
"Eh," she said, walking out of the bathroom, "Maybe later. It is Christmas, after all. Oh, and did you get the logo?"
Alex nodded. "Hedwig dropped it off last night. It looks exactly how I imagined it. Dean's very talented."
"Hmm." Holly frowned. Dean gave her the drawing through Ron just before term's end, but he hadn't spoken to her directly since the Parseltongue incident.
"Did the Weasley twins get back to you about the Vanishing Cabinet?"
"Yeah. They have to be custom made, so I won't get them until after the term starts."
For the rest of the holidays—when she wasn't splitting her time between helping Ron and visiting Hermione—Holly had continued her search for the perfect hideout. Abandoned classrooms were immediately off the list. There was simply too much dust, chairs, desks and not suitable for long-term potion brewing. She almost reconsidered a few, but they were all in high traffic areas and defeated the purpose of a hideout. There was an abandoned Potions classroom deep in the dungeons she could use to brew in if the right privacy spells were used, but disregarded it for obvious reasons.
A few days after Christmas, she expanded her search to the little-used corners of the castle, where students and teachers rarely ventured. Finally, on a Friday night, she found one disused corridor on the sixth floor. After passing by Glanmore Peake's portrait, she discovered a room towards the end of the hallway that lead her to yet another hallway. Holly was just about tired of walking when she discovered another door and opened it.
The place seemed to be an additional set of rooms, perhaps for guests, once upon a time, that had fallen into disuse. The windows were caked with dust and various detritus. Her eyes wandered to the two beds to her left atop termite-infested wood and a restroom that had seen better days.
Holly sighed, brushing a hand across her sweaty brow. This was the best she could find. On the plus side, it was only about five minutes of walking to the Tower, and with the hallway-within-a-hallway-design, she could slip away much more efficiently with her Cloak.
"Scourgify." The grime on part of the floor vanished, leaving polished wood behind.
She would definitely have her work cut out for her with cleaning the place up.
Holly hated to admit it, but Hermione being in the hospital wing made it much easier for her and Ron to practice magic once term started up again. Before she or Ron would come up with an excuse of going to Hagrid's or to play chess, which, depending on how well Hermione and Ron got on that week, she would accept or decline accordingly. While they still visited Hermione and gave her her homework, Holly felt less and less guilty about excluding her.
Holly tapped a pamphlet of third and fourth year spells Alex had given her for Christmas, waiting impatiently for Ron. If she expected things to go back to normal after the holidays, she was sorely mistaken. Tempers had cooled some, but others still kept their distance from her in the Common room.
"There you are!" said Holly as Ron descended from the boy's staircase.
"Sorry, I was trying this on," he said, smoothening his new Cannons jumper.
Holly rolled her eyes. "You've worn that every day since you got it."
"That's what laundry spells are for." He followed her out. "So what are we practising today?"
Holly looked at her notes. "Some more first-year Transfiguration. You're doing really well."
"I reckon I have a good teacher."
"Shut up," she said, nudging him playfully. "You're a fast learner."
There was a comfortable silence, then:
"So remember when you were talking about how Muggle-borns were changing things and how culture was important and stuff like that?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, what's the harm in changing things? It's part of life."
Ron pursed his lips. "Well, wizards aren't used to it. Dumbledore's been the face of progress, and he's been around since my grandparents were in Hogwarts."
"Wait, Dumbledore's over a hundred?" said Holly, shocked. The man could pass for someone in his late seventies at most.
"Well yes, it's pretty common. My great aunt Muriel is around the same age, too. Muggle-borns were pretty rare because Muggles were constantly dying but once they started cleaning themselves up they started living longer, and that created more Muggle-borns. They used to be quite rare."
Holly frowned at the 'cleaning themselves up' remark, but Ron continued before she could speak. "Muggle-borns are still a really small part of the population, even at Hogwarts."
"And after Hogwarts?"
"It depends," said Ron as they turned a corner. "There's a lot of Muggle-born emigration from Wizarding Britain, mostly because they don't have the connections to make it very high in the Ministry. Some still stay though, working as assistants and clerks."
I should look into that , Holly thought as Ron Unlocked their training room.
"I thought Fay was a pure-blood?" asked one of the older boys as Holly entered the subdued Common Room.
"Her father is, but her mother is a half-blood—her mother's parents were two Muggle-borns, you know—so she's still a half-blood, technically," replied an older girl.
The boy nodded. "That makes sense. The Dunbar family isn't part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight anyway."
The girl scoffed. "Oh please. The list changes every septennial, and besides, a family has to be at least five generations pure-blooded in order to maintain their place on it."
"Five generations?"
"Yes. Let's say a person starts off Muggle-born, right? Any child they have will be half-blood technically, but they'll still grow up having Muggle grandparents—"
"There she is!"
All eyes turned to her.
Sally-Anne stormed up to her, fists clenched. "Where were you?"
Holly swallowed. "Ron and I were—"
"Don't give me that! Weasley came back over an hour ago, so where. Were. you?!"
She bit her tongue. Saying that she was at her secret Hideaway experimenting with a vanishing cabinet wouldn't go over well.
"Relax, Perks," said Ron. He put a hand on Holly's shoulder. "Holly wouldn't do such a thing."
"Shut up Weasley! She's been at the scene of almost every attack and now Fay is Petrified! All she did was come back from flying! What did she ever do to you?"
"Nothing! I didn't attack her! I didn't attack anyone!"
"Sally, let it go," said Kellan, a redheaded girl from one of the other girls' dorms. "Let McGonagall take care of it, it's clear Potter won't confess."
"There's nothing to confess to because I didn't do anything!"
"Yeah, I'm sure Colin and Justin thought the same thing too!"
Holly snarled. She was sick of the false accusations. Quick as a flash, her wand was in her hand. "You know w—"
A whip of cool air blew through the room. "Alright, break it up!" said Eleanor Birchgrove, a sixth-year Prefect, her wand by her side. "That's enough out of all of you. Head up to your dorms. And put your wand away, Potter."
Still glaring at Sally-Anne, Holly reluctantly did so.
Kellan hooked her arm around Sally's. "You can stay in our dorm."
Sally, who was on the verge of tears, nodded. "Thank you."
"Let's get your things." And with one last glare at Holly, Kellah and Sally walked over to one of the fifth years who began escorting them upstairs.
Ron guided her over to their usual corner silently, letting her take everything in peace.
"Fay was Petrified?" she asked once he had cast the privacy spells.
Ron nodded. "And since you weren't here…"
"Not you too."
"Well, they do bring up some valid points," defended Ron calmly. "You do have a knack for being at the wrong place at the wrong time."
"That doesn't mean I would petrify our schoolmates!" said Holly, trying to keep her voice even. "There are plenty of blood-bigots in this school, there was even a blood purity discussion going on when I came in. Why am I the only one getting blamed?"
The redhead shrugged. "I never said they were right. I'm just telling you how it looks to them."
"It doesn't make any sense."
"I know," said Ron, and with only a moment of hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry mate, we'll find out who's doing this."
Holly sighed and said nothing more.
"You know what? I'm through with people avoiding and hexing me for something I didn't even do. I'll make the bloody potion myself if I have to," she snapped, swiping through the PDA. "I'm sure it's here somewhere."
"Are Mandrakes even in season?"
"No, but there's got to be someone somewhere that's growing them out of season, and we're going to find them."
"You know that this is the adults' problem, right? They're the one's that should be quelling the outrage."
"Not these adults! McGonagall said it's 'out of her hands' and Dumbledore thought I did it after the Parselmouth stuff. We've interrogated Malfoy and he didn't do it, and Flitwick wants to believe me, but I only have an alibi for the second attack. There's just too much evidence against me. I have to take care of this myself," she said, thinking of the last few days.
Things had only gotten worse. With Hermione still in the Infirmary, it was just her against Parvati and Lavender, who had taken to ignoring her existence whenever possible. That didn't stop them from hiding or bespelling her things, however—black-stained teeth and dingy green hair wasn't a good look on anyone—and she was forced into staying in her Hideaway most of the time. Ron stuck to her side whenever possible but that only made them target him too, and they couldn't be together all the time regardless.
Despite all this, though, Alex seemed determined to talk her out of it. "Aren't restorative draughts sixth-year level? I mean, what if it doesn't work?"
"I have to at least try," Holly said, feeling her eyes well with tears. She had reached her breaking point. "I can't live like this anymore and I can't ask Ron and Hermione to look guilty by being around me. Everyone looks at me like a leper and I've been hexed more times than I can count." She sighed. "I know it's not going to be easy, but even if the attacks stop, Creevey and the others will be Petrified until the end of May, at minimum. I won't get into trouble as long as I'm careful, and I will be. I know I'm asking a lot of you but...would you be willing to help?"
Alex stared at her for a long moment. Frankly, she expected him to refuse. Then, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Alright. Whatever you need."
She let out a breath. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I definitely owe you one."
Giving an awkward smile, he said, "What are friends for? Now the first thing we'll need is—"
"The Mandrakes. Sprouts' aren't ready yet, so maybe there's a list of people somewhere that grow them?"
"I was going to say you need the recipe for brewing Mandrake Draught."
"Right," she grinned sheepishly. "Forgot about that. Luckily I have it all scanned in the Database. It's not a restricted potion. Crap."
"What's wrong?"
"Take a look." She sent him the picture of the formulae.
Restoration or Mandrake Draught
This potion has the ability to revive people who have been Petrified. Extreme care must be taken when preparing the mandrakes. They must be harvested after they are fully matured, otherwise, the potion will not have the strength to revive the petrified. After harvesting, the mandrakes must be dropped into a number 2 cauldron filled with boiling water and one-quarter of a jigger of asphodel within thirty-six hours. This is done to maintain the strength of the mandrake. After boiling for four hours, the mandrake must be removed and quartered with a silver knife. The mandrake must be dried for seven days with temperatures between 40 and 50 degrees centigrade. Once the mandrake is dry, the potion can be started.
The ingredients are as listed:
Two large mandrakes, quartered
Two large caterpillars, sliced
The mucus of four flobberworms
The spine of one lionfish
Six peppermint leaves
A sprinkle of wartcap powder
To make the potion, a number 2 cauldron is filled with standard potion-making water and brought to a rolling boil. The spine of the lionfish and three of the peppermint leaves are added. The solution is allowed to return to a rolling boil before adding the mandrakes. This mixture must be boiled for two days, stirring counterclockwise eight times every six hours. The caterpillars and flobberworm mucus are then added. The mixture is allowed to simmer on a low flame for the next four days while stirring the mixture nine times clockwise every eight hours. The cauldron must be brought back to its original volume with water before adding the remaining peppermint leaves. This mixture will be simmered for five more days over a low flame while stirring counterclockwise three times every six hours. At the end of this period, a sprinkle of wartcap powder must be dusted over the surface to thicken the mixture, which should be steel grey. The mixture should be spread over the victim's body to return them to normal. This process can take up to eighteen hours depending on the length of petrifaction.
This potion will keep for up to two months.
"Eighteen days," Alex said, stunned.
"Explains why no one has it. Mandrake is hard to grow and the potion isn't really used for anything but Petrifications." There were potions that took longer, but they kept longer, too—the more magical ingredients in a potion, the longer the potion's shelf life generally was. "I'm still going to make it."
"I was afraid you'd say that," he muttered. "Well, I'll see if I can go to the Alley and find something about Mandrake-growers. Who knows; maybe someone has the potion and we can just buy it."
"That'd be great. Will your parents let you go alone?" she asked, remembering how badly their first trip there went.
Alex rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I'll be sure to wear robes this time and everything. I'm nearly thirteen after all."
"You still have five months."
"Well you have seven."
"Whatever."
"Levitation charm."
Silently, Ron raised the second-year Charms textbook.
"Wand-lighting charm."
He flicked his wrist and a light appeared.
Holly tossed him a padlock. "Unlocking charm."
It opened with a tap.
"Locking charm."
On and on it went until they finished year one charms and went to year one transfiguration. Ron had a bit more trouble here; his lips twitched a bit when he performed the mice-to-snuffbox transfiguration, and the Avifors spell had him grinding his teeth in order to perform it silently, but he managed.
Second-year charms were less tricky than first-year transfiguration, but it wasn't as easy as first year. His shrinking charm could use a bit of work. Second-year transfiguration was the worst of the lot. Ron moved his lips silently as he performed each one, with Vera Verto seeming to be the most difficult, but to his credit, it was done without a sound.
"Well," she paused. Ron gave her a worried look. Holly broke into a grin. "Someone's been practising."
"Come off it," he said, returning her smile.
Holly covertly checked the time. The mandrakes were almost done drying. "Alright then. That was pretty good. Just keep practising and we'll meet next week."
"Er, Holly?" asked Ron.
"Yeah?"
"Are you alright?"
Holly looked closely at her second-oldest friend. Was he always so pale around this time of year? "Yeah, everything is fine. Why?"
"Because this is the second week you've cut our lessons short," said Ron.
She sighed. The recently harvested mandrakes had come in last week and she left early to prepare them; now that they were done drying, she wanted to start the potion. "I'm fine, just dealing with all the crap, you know?"
The redhead nodded. "Don't worry. I'm sure everything will work out soon."
"I hope so."
"I'll leave you to it," said Ron, preparing to leave.
"Thanks. Oh, and check on Hermione for me, will you?"
The redhead snickered. "I will. I have to see if she still has Lockhart's get-well card under her pillow."
Holly shook her head as he left.
This mixture must be boiled for two days, stirring counterclockwise eight times every six hours, she read. After the mandrakes were dry, there was little urgency in making the potion. But she had to time it right. For the next eleven days, she would have to get up early, stay up late, break curfew and even leave in the middle of classes in order for the potion to brew correctly.
Everything was in increments of six or eight hours, so she'd only have to go back and forth three or four times a day. Even that was too much. If Ron was questioning things, Hermione would be sure to follow, and that was the last thing she needed.
Taking out a pen and paper, Holly calculated the starting time with the stirring increments. Dinner was from six to eight on weekdays and five to eight-thirty on weekends. If she started at seven tonight, she would have to break curfew twice in order to stir. Starting at six meant she'd have to leave at midnight and six am. Curfew lasted from ten at night to six-thirty in the morning if she remembered correctly. At least, for the younger years.
The mixture is allowed to simmer on a low flame for the next four days while stirring the mixture nine times clockwise every eight hours.
Eight hours had similar issues. Two AM curfew breaks and a "bathroom break" at ten am, then another at dinner. Rinse and repeat.
This mixture will be simmered for five more days over a low flame while stirring counterclockwise three times every six hours.
Same as the first. Holly assumed she'd be done by around dinner on February 10th. That is if she didn't screw up. Then, within a day, the victims would wake up and maybe the madness would end.
You could keep an eye on it better if you lived right here.
The idea had merit. Despite everything, she'd been keeping up appearances by staying in her dorm room at night. Only Lavender and Parvati remained with her, and they had taken to sending her angry and fearful glances almost equally. Would it be so bad if she lived in the Hideaway temporarily?
Holly looked around the clean, spacious room. The fireplace roared with fire, warming the area. The bathrooms were cleaned and filled with her personal belongings, the one usable bed covered with her quilt and bedspread and pillows. A shelf created with transfigured wood from the broken furniture occupied one wall, holding books and valuable potions' ingredients from the forest and Hagrid's personal collection.
She didn't have to hide her Muggle things either—she could be completely at ease doing whatever she wanted. And it wasn't as if she couldn't make it back to the Tower in a hurry if she had to. Ron would never know so long as they met outside the portrait for breakfast and Hermione...well, Holly would explain the situation once she was out of the hospital wing.
Her mind made up, Holly left the Hideaway to get the rest of her things.
Crap!
Holly ran down the staircase to the Great Hall, knowing she was already late. Muggle work had kept her up until midnight and she didn't set an alarm. Now she was paying the price.
"Over here!" a familiar voice called among the crowd of exiting students at the entrance of the Hall.
Holly headed over to Ron, who was waving slightly as ran over to him. He handed her a napkin filled with toast, bacon and eggs, some of her favourites.
"Best mate ever," Holly muttered tiredly, cramming a large piece of toast into her mouth.
"Why are you late?"
Holly practically inhaled what was left on the napkin before responding, "I overslept." In the dorms, if your or someone else's alarm didn't wake you up, the sounds of the morning hustle would. Failing that, there was always someone who would shake you awake. In the Hideaway, it was up to her alone to get ready in a timely manner. "Hermione's coming out today, right?"
Ron nodded. "After lunch."
"That's good," she said as they headed to Transfiguration. "I've missed her."
Ron snorted.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"It sounded like something. What is it?"
"I've been more than happy without her around," said Ron simply, fingering his ever-present journal.
Holly nearly stopped in her tracks. "Ron, she's our friend!"
"More your friend than mine. The way she gets on my case, you'd think she was only putting up with me for your sake."
"It's not as if you don't give it as good as you get."
"I shouldn't have to keep defending myself for something I said over a year ago, and something that was the truth no less." At her frown, he added, "You yourself said that she wasn't getting along with you or the other girls in your dorm, and the other dorm of girls avoided her outright."
"Her heart was in the right place," she said in defence of her closest and only female friend.
Ron shrugged. "Road to hell and all that. It was all fine and dandy for you girls to voice your opinions, but the second I did I was painted as the bad guy. Doesn't seem fair to me."
Holly remained silent.
"However, if you're happy she's returning, then I'll put aside our differences for your sake," said Ron. "So long as she doesn't start insulting real wizards again."
They entered the classroom and Holly's mind was on anywhere but the lesson. Ron had been acting strangely all year and she had no clue why. He'd been his normal self all summer and nothing bad had happened, as far as she could recall. Usually Ron resorted to anger or jealousy; for him to just become aloof and unconcerned was very odd. He did have his lapses of acting like his normal self, but it was becoming farther and further in-between.
Holly glanced at her friend as McGonagall started lecturing. Ron was taking careful, detailed notes and actually listened when someone asked a question. It was surreal.
Maybe there's nothing wrong. She turned back to her own still-blank parchment. Ron's just growing up a bit, that's all. Some boys just need time to mature. She looked up again as McGonagall cleared the board with a wave of her wand while telling off Dean and Seamus. Or a lot of time. Not every boy is like Percy or Alex. She mentally cringed at the comparison before refocusing on the board. Once I'm done with the potion and everything's back to normal, I'll talk to Ron.
Holly stared at her oldest friend with her best puppy dog pout. "Please, sir, may I have some more please?"
"I've sent you three already!"
"I know, but I can't risk going down to the kitchens this late. You're only a few feet away anyway."
"Give or take seven hundred kilometres."
"Same difference," she said with a laugh as Alex sighed and went off-screen.
"Next time I'll keep my mouth shut about having these." The tell-tale creak of a wooden box opening echoed just as a sudden whoosh came from the corner.
Holly leapt out of bed and ran over, opening her box to reveal jaffa cakes, sparkling water and wine gums.
"Thank you," she said as she fell back into bed with her goods.
"Don't ask me again."
"Fine." She took a bite out of one of the cakes. "I don't know why I'm so hungry nowadays. I'll have to start taking food with me."
"Hmm," said Alex. He tapped the keyboard. "I heard back from Dudley. The tests are going well. He's gotten five more people to try them out."
"That's good. Did you guys look into finding more Squibs or Muggle-born family members?"
Holly wasn't surprised when he shook his head. "How's the potion coming along?"
"It looks fine. I just hope it works." Holly eyed the simmering cauldron. She had added the caterpillars and mucus and had to stir carefully for the remaining two days. Hermione had made her return to the dorm room and was instantly confused as to why Holly and Sally-Anne were no longer sleeping in the dorm with her, Lavender and Parvati. The latter two hadn't said a word.
"Creative differences," she had said.
Of course, that hadn't satisfied Hermione's curiosity one bit, but Holly was only planning on staying in the Hideaway for another week or so. Just until the potion is done.
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Okay, and on the off chance this works, how are you going to get it into the hospital wing? I doubt your nurse—"
"Mediwitch."
"Right, mediwitch will just accept that a twelve-year-old brewed an advanced medical potion perfectly if you just hand it to her."
Holly waved him off. "Let's cross that bridge when we get to it. Now," she took out her Muggle work, "fancy a trip down memory lane?"
Holly stared down at the directions, anxiously gripping the device in her hands. She quickly looked between the simmering potion and the information on the screen, desperately making sure that the two matched. Swallowing, she decided that the potion was likely as correct as it could possibly be and gently sprinkled the powder on top.
There, it was done.
Only…
The Mandrake Potion, instead of being a nice, thick steel grey, was a rather ugly shade of puce. She didn't have to use her stirring rod to know that it was watery, too.
Holly looked at her mess of a potion in disbelief before stepping away and taking off her goggles. "How could this have happened?"
Alex shrugged on screen.
She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. "Okay." Tapping her foot against the table, Holly thought of another plan. "We'll have to get more Mandrakes."
"We can't," said Alex, looking pained. "Not unless you have the Galleons to spare."
"No problem, how much are they?"
"Two thousand Galleons."
Holly froze. "What?"
"Two thousand Galleons," repeated Alex. "Between the cost of getting Mandrakes out of season and shipping them to Britain, we ran up quite a bill."
"Just for two? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Remember the notebook you sent me for Christmas? I wrote it all there. It should be in your copy."
Holly rushed over to the pile where she kept all her Muggle stuff and started digging through the papers. She'd completely forgotten about the notebook. Privacy spells aside, she didn't want it to fall in the wrong hands. Flipping through the notebook she found lists of expenses written in Alex's neat handwriting. From cauldrons to logos to the Mandrake purchase.
"Crap."
"You found it?"
"Yeah, I found it." With a wave of her hand, the pile arranged itself neatly. "Okay, two thousand Galleons. I'll check my vault and withdraw the money. Or better yet, I'll send you the key and you can go."
"There's a bit of a problem with that."
"What's the problem?"
"Mugg—non-magicals aren't allowed to handle Gringotts keys. You'd have to send a Squib or a wizard to go for you."
Holly collapsed into her chair. The book fell. "That's all?"
"Do you know how much is in your vault? Two thousand Galleons isn't exactly pocket change. That could be half your money."
"Good point. Okay, new plan." She paused and thought for a moment. "I'll come back for Easter break—"
"Wait wait?" asked a shocked Alex. "But you never come back!"
"I came back last year." Holly raised an eyebrow. "You know it's only my second year, right?"
"Feels like longer," muttered Alex with a blush.
"Anyway, so I'll come back for break and we can go to Gringotts together. We'll see how much money is in my account and go from there. Do you lot mind if I stay over? Somehow I don't think Petunia and Vernon would appreciate my presence."
"Sure, just let me ask my parents."
"Hey Potter! How are those pickled toad eyes?"
Holly ignored Parkinson with the ease of long practice but she could feel her face flush. "When I find out who sent that damned Valentine—"
"Language, Holly," said Hermione.
"Do you know how embarrassing that was? It's been nearly a week and people are still bringing it up. Why did it have to be a poem of all things? Why not just a short note saying I'm pretty or whatever? That stuff worked fine in primary." Not that she got Valentines' from anyone but Alex, but still.
"It was rather bold," said Hermione. "Who do you think sent it?"
"I don't care who sent it. If they're too cowardly to admit it to my face then I'm not interested," said Holly as they entered the Great Hall.
"At least you got one," said Ron under his breath, his ears red.
"I wish I didn't."
"The Mandrakes are getting moody," said Hermione in an effort to change the subject. "Soon they'll be ready for the potion."
"And this nightmare will end," said Holly, picking up a drumstick. She was still planning on re-making the potion, but if the school could handle it, more the better.
"Are you okay?"
Holly looked up at Hermione's words, but they weren't directed at her—Ron was looking rather pale and shaky.
"Yeah," said Ron, setting a single roll on his plate with a shaky hand. "Everything is fine, I reckon."
"Where's your notebook?"
The redhead paled further, the freckles on his face standing out. "Lost it."
"But you've been writing in it all year."
"Don't care." He tore off a piece of his roll and chewed deliberately.
"Ron, don't—"
He slammed his hands on the table. "I said I don't bloody care! Just leave me alone Hermione, alright?"
Half the table looked up at Ron's shouting. Holly glanced between a gaunt and angry Ron and a concerned and hurt Hermione, unsure of what to do.
Ron got up, grabbing his bag. "Bugger this." He stormed off.
"That went rather well," said Holly, returning to her meal.
Hermione flushed but didn't answer.
It had been nearly three months since Fay had been Petrified. Peeves had finally given up chanting and dancing, Ernie Macmillan and his friends had become quite civil, the hexes had almost stopped and the Mandrakes were nearly adults.
"Within two months they should be fully mature," said Professor Sprout, helping ease Holly's worries.
By late March, things were almost back to normal, much to Holly's relief.
"Today class," said Flitwick, "we are going to practice the Engorging and Shrinking Charm. You'll be learning these two together so that you can always undo an over-enthusiastic cast."
As the part-goblin went on about the charm, Ron leaned over to her.
"I hope I can manage it."
Holly looked at her friend. Ever since he lost his journal, he had slowly begun to return to his normal self, insecurities and self-doubt included.
"You'll be fine. We've practised this last week."
"But—"
"Remember to focus!" said Flitwick, and with a wave of his wand apples appeared in front of everyone.
Ron swallowed. "Right. I'll go first."
"Flitwick isn't going to be expecting much until next class, so focus on the stem or leaf. Don't be afraid to whisper."
The redhead let out a shaky breath and flicked his wand carefully over the apple, making a circular motion before flicking again.
The apple grew to nearly quadruple its size.
"Ha, splendid! Splendid!" From the front row, Flitwick was clapping his hands excitedly. "Did you see that, class? Mr Weasley had just demonstrated how to cast Engorgement Charm non-verbally!"
Holly and Ron were speechless. This was the first time since they started practising that a teacher had noticed. Lockhart rarely let them use their wands and McGonagall was too focused on other students to notice, so long as nothing went wrong.
"Wordless casting is very difficult for sub-NEWT students to accomplish, as it takes strong familiarity with the way the spell is cast and how it works to be able to do so," Flitwick explained excitedly. "I have seen only a handful of lower-years accomplish this over the years, and it is always an exciting thing to witness! Now take thirty points to Gryffindor for your above-average charmwork, Mr Weasley, and ten more for succeeding despite having a damaged wand!" Flitwick finished with a wide, pointy grin.
Holly gripped his upper arm and beamed at him. "You did it!"
Ron stared at his wand, flabbergasted. "I-I reckon I did."
"All that hard work paid off! Look, even your wand's not acting up anymore!"
He blushed bright red. "Er, it's your turn."
Holly let go and coughed. "Right." She waved her wand carefully, softly saying Engorgio. Keeping the effects deliberately modest, her apple swelled to about twice its size, earning her ten points from Flitwick.
After class, Flitwick held Ron back, leaving Holly and Hermione to walk alone. Holly braced herself for the inevitable.
"Did you know about this?" asked Hermione without preamble once most of the class was out of earshot, her face stormy.
"Know what?" she asked, attempting to appear oblivious.
But Hermione easily saw through the ruse. "About Ron learning non-verbal magic?"
Holly decided to go for a partial truth. "Yes."
"How did he learn? Professor Flitwick himself said that non-verbal casting is NEWT-level magic!"
"Hagrid," said Holly quickly. That wasn't a lie either. Hagrid had helped at the start.
Hermione looked aghast now. "Hagrid's teaching him?"
"Only a few things. He isn't supposed to be using magic."
"I know! It's completely irresponsible for him to be teaching anyone anything! I doubt he even has his OWLs, let alone NEWTs!"
Holly frowned. Hermione was probably right, but Hagrid's qualifications - or lack thereof - wasn't her fault. "Stop yelling at me," said Holly firmly.
Just then, Ron made his appearance. "What's all this?"
Hermione scoffed angrily. "I am not helping either of you with your homework anymore. It's clearly not needed."
Ron looked confused.
"Just because Ron and I don't do our homework the second we get it doesn't mean we want you to do it for us. Not everyone is work-obsessed."
"I am not work-obsessed!" shouted Hermione.
Quickly catching on to the argument, Ron rolled his eyes. "Come off it Hermione. Sometimes you act like none of us ever do anything. 'Sides, I didn't learn it overnight."
"You made it look so easy," said Hermione with a scowl.
"It isn't!" Ron exclaimed. "It took me weeks to figure out how to do it."
"Years ahead of everyone else," she seethed.
Ron threw his hands up. "I thought you wanted me to do well, I thought you wanted me to try harder at schoolwork."
"I di–do, but—"
"Then what's the bloody problem!?"
"Ron—"
"I'm not the only one! Holly can do it too! She taught me!"
"Ron!" Holly hissed.
But it was too late. Hermione gave her a look of betrayal. "You told me Hagrid taught him!"
"Well, he did give us a few pointers," she admitted.
"But you could already cast non-verbal magic before we even went to Hagrid's," protested Ron.
"RON!"
The redhead looked utterly unremorseful. There was silence for a brief moment before Hermione sniffed. Her eyes filled with tears. "I can't believe this," she said, sounding heartbroken.
Neither could Holly. She told Ron not to say anything! Holly knew that Hermione was sensitive when it came to academics.
"I thought you two were my friends," sniffled Hermione before turning on her heel and storming off.
Holly whipped around to Ron. "How could you say that?"
"What do you mean? I didn't lie!"
"There was a reason I didn't want her to know! Now you've made her cry!" yelled Holly, an arm gestured in the direction that Hermione went off in.
"I'm not the one that lied to her," said Ron, crossing his arms in a Percy-like pose.
"I didn't lie to her!"
"Fine then, you're the one that kept the truth from her!"
"You could have told her too! Why does it all fall to me!"
"She's your friend!"
"She's your friend too, or is it just because I'm a girl?"
"For the record, I did try to tell her when we first started, remember?"
Holly's mind flashed back to Halloween night. Hermione was rather dismissive of the idea of learning non-verbal casting so young but she and Ron continued, knowing that it was Ron's only chance at passing his exams.
"She made me sound like an idiot for even trying," said Ron, bitterness unable to cover the hurt in his tone. "Non-verbal magic is years ahead, Ron," he said in a passable imitation of Hermione's voice. "Why should I bother telling her anything when she can't respect my decisions? I'm not, not anymore. You can tell her that, too."
Holly stared at him coldly. "Well, you seem to have everything sorted out. You can manage your wand now. It's clear you don't need my help anymore, so we're done."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and went off in the opposite direction.
Easter couldn't come soon enough.
~•~
"Oh! Doesn't Tufty look absolutely adorable in that bonnet?"
Holly grimaced at the ugly cat picture in the album she held. "He looks…nice," she lied.
Ms Figg's house smelled like boiled cabbage and litter boxes. She hated being here. But, with Vernon working late and Petunia taking Dudley out for trick or treating, there was nowhere else for her to go. Staying in the house alone wasn't an option.
She took a quick glance outside and saw several of her year mates walking around with their parents with bags full of sweets. Just like every other year.
Time to put Alex's plan into action. "Um, Ms Figg?"
The woman turned her watery eyes to her. "Yes dear?"
"I have to go to the loo."
"The restroom, dear," she corrected. "Very well."
Holly jumped off the musty chair, rushed in, and locked the door. That went easier than she thought it would. She eyed the only window in the restroom, right above the toilet.
This shouldn't be too hard. The sun was almost down, and the loo was facing away from the street, so she wouldn't be seen easily. She unlocked the window and climbed, ignoring the wobble-wobble of the tank lid as her weight settled on it. She opened the window as far as she could and looked at the ground below.
Here goes! She jumped, landing with an "Oof!" flat on her face. Her control with 'accidental magic' was still shaky.
"Ow." She wiggled one of her loose teeth.
"Holly?" came Ms Figg's voice from the window. "Have you finished? It's time for tea and biscuits!"
She ran off.
Thankfully Ms Figg's house was close to the Alley. She crossed the road, took the shortcut and entered the Crescent, doing her best to blend in with the other trick-or-treaters.
I hope Dudley and Aunt Petunia don't see me, she thought as she made her way down the pavement. She looked down every time she thought she saw a year-mate and narrowly avoided another before reaching number thirty.
"You made it!" said Alex happily when he answered the door. "Come on, Mum has your costume ready."
"What are you going as?" she asked. He was wearing loose-fitting tan pants, an over-tunic and a black cloak with a hood.
"Luke Skywalker," he said, right before the twins ran past him. "Oi! Watch it!"
The toddlers giggled. One of them – the girl, Rhea – greeted her.
"Don't mind her," said Alex once they ran off before she could reply. "She and Sam are just annoyed they can't go with us. He guided her towards the second sitting room. It was plainly decorated with a small wooden table and three chairs with beige fabric covering them; a small fridge sat in the farthest corner, filled with water and other beverages. Alex gestured to the seat closest to them.
"What am I going as?" she asked, eying the fabric on the chair.
"A witch."
Holly stopped in her tracks. "Are you mad? What if your mum finds out?"
"Mum thought up the costume, not me," he said, raising his hands in defence.
Still unconvinced, she asked, "She hasn't found the books, has she?" Over the last two months they had read Magical Concepts multiple times, along with several of the Squib books. It painted a somewhat unfriendly picture of the Wizarding world but they were curious to learn more. There was just something about it that made it so, in Alex's words, 'cap-ti-vating'.
Alex shook his head. "Nah, I hid them pretty well. Besides, what are the chances of her going into the room?"
The chances seemed pretty good, in her opinion, but there wasn't much she could do. Hiding it with the Dursleys wasn't an option. "I guess," she muttered.
"So," said Alex as he took out his lightsaber and posed in a heroic stance. "Are you ready to begin on our mission, oh wise witch?"
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that came to her lips. "What is this mission?"
"To collect as many sweets as possible!"
They'd been out for two and a half hours and had gathered a sizable amount of sweets—and pennies, for some reason—before heading back.
Alex was very pleased. "Good haul this year," he said, dumping his lot on the floor of the parlour. "Much better than last year's."
"Just don't overdo it," Holly snorted. Last year had revealed his sweet tooth.
He paused. "Don't you trust me?"
"Not with sweets."
Alex shook his head and started counting his pile. The twins made their appearance, repeatedly asking for sweets; he shot them down each time.
Eventually, Holly had enough of the whinging. Reaching into her own pillowcase blindly, she grabbed two lollies and gave them to the twins.
That should have been the end of it.
But something was wrong with the sweets – they had a bitter taste, yet neither could stop eating. Alex was worried. He begged Sam and Rhea to drop the lollies.
They shook their heads. Alex looked like he was about to lose his temper.
"Come on, give them to me," she held out a hand, and to her surprise, the lollies jerked out of their hands and into her's.
Oops.
For a brief, fleeting moment the twins gaped at her before they stumbled to their feet, crying as they ran from the room.
Alex blinked, looking between her and the door his siblings ran out of. "Well, this isn't good."