a/n; Thanks, everyone, for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I'm so glad people are enjoying the story! :D I hope you all continue to!

disclaimer; I don't own Harry Potter, which is probably a good thing.

the fabulously vintage world of holly potter

—third: the true history of holly potter

Another problem soon came to light: Holly had no idea how or where to buy her school supplies. When she sent her enrollment letter later that day with the owl, which she did not mention to her aunt or uncle, she asked about the supplies. Where should she buy them? Did the wizarding world have the same currency as the Muggle one? (Holly had decided, from reading Deputy Headmistress McGonagall's letters, that Muggle meant non-magic.) Why on Earth would she ever desire to wear a pointy black hat? How utterly expected of wizards; how very dull.

In the response to Holly's second letter, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall wrote that she would be sending someone to help Holly go out and gather her things. That someone would be arriving within the next day; his name would be Rubeus Hagrid. The name sounded as though it belonged in one of Dudley's sci-fi movies about the apocalypse.

Holly was sitting in the living room watching the television with Dudley when a loud knocking echoed down the front hall. "I'll get the door," Holly declared, jumping to her feet. This was rather pointless, however, as Dudley was the only other one in the house; Vernon was at work and Petunia was in the backyard gardening.

Would Rubeus Hagrid be a gentleman wizard? Holly certainly hoped so. She reflected, excited, on the possibilities as she neared the front door. Then she reached down, gripped the door handle, and swung the door open.

A massive man stood on the other side—if he could be called a man. He was more of a giant. Were giants real as well? Holly decided they must have been. He had thick, unruly hair and a black beard that matched. He had small dark eyes that flashed in the sunlight outside, and he looked fairly tan. He was wearing an incredibly unfashionable brown overcoat. It also must have, Holly thought, been incredibly hot; it was a sunny July day outside. The day before her birthday, in fact.

Holly knew it was rude to stare and smiled at the man. "Hello," she said, sticking out her hand toward him. "Are you Rubeus Hagrid?"

"Yes ma'am," said Mr. Hagrid, shaking Holly's hand gently. His hand could have engulfed half her body. "And you mus' be Holly Potter! Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby!" He smiled at her. "Yeh look a lot like yer mum, but yeh've got yer dad's eyes."

Holly blinked at him. "Thank you," she said graciously, hoping this was a compliment. She quickly moved out of the doorway. "Please, do come in. I can start some tea if you would like."

"No, no, that's all righ'," said Mr. Hagrid. "I'll jus' sit down for a mo', if that's all righ', before we head out."

Watching Mr. Hagrid walk down the hallway was a very surreal experience. Watching him turn into the living room and frighten Dudley out of his wits was an even better one. "Dudley," said Holly, while Dudley quivered behind an armchair in his pajamas and Mr. Hagrid watched in amusement, "this is Mr. Hagrid. He's from the school I'll be attending in the fall."

"Oh," Dudley squeaked.

Holly turned back toward Mr. Hagrid, who had taken up the entire couch by sitting down. "Are you sure you wouldn't like some tea?" Petunia had ground being a good hostess into her skull.

"I'm sure," said Mr. Hagrid. "Yeh don' need to call me Mister, by the way."

"Oh," said Holly, surprised. "All right." She flashed him a smile before seating herself in a cushy chair across from him, nearer to the television set. She turned off the television, which Dudley had left on, and focused her attention on Hagrid. "What will we be doing today? Is there a place we can buy all my supplies in London?"

Hagrid raised his eyebrows. At least, Holly thought he did; she couldn't make out his face very well under all his hair. "Yeh don' know?" he asked.

Holly shook her head and clasped her hands in her lap.

"Did yeh know about Hogwarts?"

Holly shook her head again. "I wrote a letter back asking for more information, though," she offered. "It sounds like a very good school."

"It's the best," said Hagrid, but he sounded puzzled. "Didn' yer aunt an' uncle tell yeh about yer parents and Hogwarts?"

Holly shook her head for the third time, perplexed. "All I know is that they died in a car crash," she said, wondering if this was too much information to share with a man she'd only just met.

"Yeh don' even know they're—you're—famous?" Hagrid demanded.

"Famous!?" Holly repeated, astounded. "For what?"

She and Hagrid stared at each other for a long moment. Then Petunia entered the house through the back door. "Dudders!" she called. "Holly! Are you ready for some lunch yet…?" She stopped short at the entrance to the living room, her voice trailing off. Then she said, as she straightened her apron and managed not to stare, "Hello. You must be here to help Holly with her school supplies."

Hagrid looked to Petunia in astonishment. Holly was proud of her aunt for her reaction. "This is Rubeus Hagrid," said Holly. "Hagrid, this is my Aunt Petunia."

"Good morning," said Petunia. Holly could tell she was trying not to be uncomfortable.

"Mornin'," said Hagrid. "Yeh haven't told her a thing abou' yer sister?"

There was no mistaking Petunia's level of discomfort now. "Well, no," said Petunia. "I don't like talking about her." She seemed to want to add and it is none of your business. Holly wanted to know more, but now it occurred to her that Hagrid was indeed being startlingly rude.

Hagrid gave Petunia a vaguely nasty look. Holly was affronted, as was Petunia. Petunia, however, stayed standing there, watching Hagrid speak to Holly. Dudley still hid behind the armchair; Holly was fairly certain she could hear a whimper. "Well, yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'," said Hagrid knowledgeably. "It's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh—mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it…"

Holly wanted to tell him to get on with it and reach the point. It was impolite to beat around the bush so much.

"It begins, I suppose, with—with a person called—but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows—"

Holly waited for a moment, but Hagrid seemed to be waiting for her to ask the question. "What is his name?" Holly asked as politely as she could manage. She disliked interrupting people as she disliked being interrupted herself. Hagrid, however, seemed to be as different from anything Holly had ever encountered or imagined.

"Well—I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it," Hagrid said, clearly uncomfortable. "No one does."

Holly frowned. "Why?" She couldn't recall anyone being afraid to say 'Hitler' or 'Stalin.' She guessed, though, that the people being oppressed by those leaders had likely been afraid of their names, just in case there were secret police nearby. Holly wondered if Hagrid thought this terrible man—he had to be terrible, a great man would be lauded—had secret police stationed here. How absurd!

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Holly, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went…bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…"

Hagrid seemed to try and say it, but nothing came out.

"Excuse me?" asked Holly.

"All right—Voldemort," Hagrid suddenly blurted. Then he shivered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this—this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too—some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Holly. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches…terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him—an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Yer mum was even head girl at Hogwarts in her day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before…probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em…maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an'—an'—"

Quite suddenly Hagrid withdrew a handkerchief from his ugly coat and blew his nose into it. Holly exchanged a split-second glance with Petunia; they were both scandalized. "I think I understand," said Holly, hoping to spare everyone involved of more of Hagrid's storytelling.

"Tha's not the whole story, Holly," said Hagrid. "Anyway—You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then—an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing—he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead?"

Holly was startled. She had, in fact, quite forgotten she had it. The lightning-shaped scar on her forehead had become such a part of her life that she had accepted it a long time ago. Whenever anyone she met paused to ask about it, she merely reported that she couldn't remember, and everyone moved on.

"That was no ordinary cut," Hagrid continued. "That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh—took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even—but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Holly. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age—the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts—an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

Suddenly Holly thought she could remember something. A flash of green light—and a high laugh. Was that the voice of Voldemort? Holly decided not to ask; Hagrid might have a meltdown in the living room.

As it was he was studying her sadly. "Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot. And You-Know-Who disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see…he was gettin' more an' more powerful—why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could'a done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Holly. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on—I dunno what it was, no one does—but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

For some reason now Hagrid was regarding Holly with respect. She felt it was rather childish to thank someone who had no idea what they'd done for something that had happened by matter of circumstance years ago. She hoped the rest of the wizarding world was less like Hagrid.

"Oh—got summat for yeh here—a very happy birthday to yeh," Hagrid added. "I might'a sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

Holly was torn between flattered and alarmed. "Well, thank you very much," she said, giving Hagrid a smile. He was digging in his dreadful overcoat; he came up with a smushed-looking box. He passed it to Holly, who opened the top and saw a badly-decorated homemade chocolate cake. Happy Birthday Holly was written on it in blue icing. "I'm sure it will be delicious," Holly added, carefully closing the lid again.

"You can eat it when yeh get back," said Hagrid. He suddenly stood up and looked at Petunia, who now seemed disgruntled. "Thanks fer lettin' me sit in yer house an' all."

"I have a question," said Petunia. She was using her clipped tone, the one that meant she was angry but didn't want to say it. "Where will Holly be finding the money to buy all these school supplies? We haven't enough set aside for it."

Petunia made a fair point. Holly looked to Hagrid. "Oh, don't worry about that," said Hagrid with a lopsided shrug. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

Holly blinked at him. "I suppose not."

"First stop for us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank—only one. Run by goblins."

"Goblins?" Petunia echoed.

"Yeah—so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Holly. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want to keep safe—'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business. He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you, gettin' things from Gringotts—knows he can trust me, see."

Hagrid glanced down at Holly. "Got everythin'?" he asked.

"Oh—no," said Holly. "One moment, please." She rushed out of the living room, hopefully leaving too fast for Dudley to notice she'd taken the cake with her. She hurried upstairs to grab a hat and a small brown leather purse; she set the cake down on her desk, away from important papers in case it melted, and then strode back downstairs. In the front hall she pulled on her favorite brown Oxford shoes.

Hagrid squeezed back down the hallway. Petunia was right behind him. "Have a good day," Petunia said to Holly. "Make sure you buy all the necessities."

"I will," said Holly. "Goodbye."