NOTES
YAY! You didn't have to wait two months this time! Just one! I'm getting better! Sort of…
What can I say? I have awesome betas.
This is my longest chapter. It destroys the other one by about a thousand words. I'm insanely proud.
DISCLAIMER
Me: Her-
Hermione: STRANGER DANGER! AHHHH!
Me: She's not going to be of much help to me, now is she?
Holly
Chapter Six-Questions Left Unanswered
"Wakey, wakey, Massachusetts…" Mandy was shaking me. I hated being shaken…
"Go. Away," I said, my eyes slowly opening. I recognized the domed ceiling with the stars painted on it. I must've fallen asleep on the couch.
"C'mon, we're going to be late for breakfast!" Mandy shoved Lisa and me off the couch.
"Is that...?"
"I think it is!"
"She's the Girl-Who-Lived!"
"She can't be! Where's her scar?"
"Under her fringe, stupid!"
"Oh…"
When people started gawking at me, I began to feel like a zoo animal. An invisible iridescent sign was placed above my head saying, 'Look here! Look here!' Of course, I didn't get the perks of being a lion in a cage. I didn't get to loll around all day, doing nothing. I still had classes. And I didn't get to roar when provoked. Well, I did, but then I'd get into deep trouble. Some idiot turned a circle at the end of a hall to walk past me again. Stupid people are only good for one thing, I say. They make me feel even smarter.
In one hallway, on the way to our first class, I was stopped by an insanely short Gryffindor. Honestly, the girl looked about eight. Lisa and Mandy shared a look, one that included a small smirk.
"Hi!" she chirped. She reminded me of a cardinal on Red Bull. It was pretty damn frightening, actually. She even looked like she was attacked by a permanent marker. She had to be the same age as me! I preferred the natural look, but I guess she can do whatever floats her boat.
"Hello," Mandy trailed off and leaned away from the girl. "Who, exactly, are you?"
"Luca, Luca Caruso! It's lovely to meet you, Holly…and…" Oh wow. I never asked for this to happen. I never asked for my parents to die, to temporarily defeat Voldemort, and to end up being a magic-doing, foul-mouthed little American in the land of Brits. Life is just so much fun lately!
"Hi…Luca…um…don't you have class to go to?" I edged away from her. Who knows if she's rabid?
"Yeah, but you're much more fun!" Great, I now had a following. The Cult of Holly. Remind me to make T-shirts for that.
"Really, though, if we don't get going, we're going to be late. If we are late to class, we get in trouble. 'We' includes Holly. Do you want Holly to get into trouble, Luca?" Lisa earned herself the title The Amazing Get Us Out Of Trouble-er. Permanently.
"No…not at all!" Luca mock-fainted. How juvenile of her. Grow up, people.
"Then we best get going!" Mandy cried. She grabbed me by the wrist and Lisa by the ear and scampered down the hall.
"Bye Holly!" Luca yelled, waving at us. I'm surrounded by idiots!
Hogwarts has a pretty interesting floor plan. As I'd learned from Danny, there were one hundred forty-two staircases in the school. How he found the time to count them, I had no idea. Unless it was common knowledge around here. Some were wide and sweeping, as I'd imagine the stairs in a castle would be. Others were narrow and long, some changed where they led to once a week (no joke, I'm serious), and some had steps that vanished halfway up. Lisa fell through one once. That was funny…but sad, as she got very bruised…but mostly funny. She was the one laughing!
The doors were just as insane. You seriously had to tickle some of them! That was plain stupid. Tickle a door? Come on! What happened to open hallways? Other doors you literally had to ask for entrance. And you had to use manners! I hate using manners! Burn the door instead! I once caught a coat of armor walking around. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Of course, it had the decency to apologize for scaring me. The people in the portraits went around to visit each other sometimes, so getting around was pretty hard.
I didn't really bother asking the ghosts for help. The only one who ever gave assistance was Helena. For one, the Bloody Barron, who Helena said killed her, usually turned up his nose or gave a snide remark. Not that I ever asked him. He should be in jail or something for murder! Ghost jail…that's new.
And then there was one ghost, who I was told was a poltergeist, not a ghost, who liked causing trouble. Therefore, I like him. Not many people liked him, especially when they were late for class, but I was never running late. I was usually early. I once had a waste bin dropped on my head, which I now consider the new in fashion for Fridays, and Mandy was pelted with chalk. Because of that, Professor Flitwick taught us a simple cleaning spell that class. Some unfortunate Hufflepuff had a rug pulled from under his feet before transfiguration one afternoon.
After our first encounter with Filch, Mandy, Lisa, and I didn't quite care what he did to us. So far, he threatened to hang us by our ears, lock us in the dungeon, and drown us in the lake. As if he could get away with that! We definitely qualified to be on his bad side. And his stupid cat, Mrs. Norris, was a real pain. If she caught us anywhere, she seemed to run off and tattle to Filch. That cat was like his soul mate. Forget the crazy cat lady, we've got Filch. I heard he knew the school better than anyone, aside from a pair of Gryffindor boys. If I got the chance, I'd gladly hang Mrs. Norris by the ears, lock her in the dungeons, and drown her in the lake.
Once you found them, there were the actual classes. Most were pretty enjoyable. Magic was more than "abracadabra" and a few rabbits.
Every Wednesday, at exactly midnight, we went up to the astronomy tower and studied the stars. We learned about the constellations and planets, orbits and axis, and phases, and tides. I had a bit of background knowledge, as my fourth grade teacher was big with astronomy. I found it intriguing. The sparkling of the stars was like Holy Angels flapping their stardust wings and letting heavenly lights shine down to the earth. And I know that sounded really cheesy, but it's true. Don't judge me.
Three times a week, we played in the dirt. No, really, we did. I'm not exactly a fan of dirt. Ice is clean, crisp, and clear. And indoors. No dirt invasions. So I preferred hockey to Herbology. I preferred hockey to just about everything, really. Go Finch Blue! Gliding around on the ice and murdering a puck is much more fun than digging holes and getting dirt out from under your fingernails. Professor Sprout, the name was so fitting, was way too enthusiastic about it all. She's a woman! How can she enjoy herself?
Professor Binns, our only dead professor, made History of Magic less than enjoyable. Now, don't get me wrong, I liked the subject in general, but the ghost-professor was almost intolerable. He droned on and on while having us copy down names and dates. I missed History in Massachusetts. Ms. Russo had us take sides on important events in history and give an argument for the entire class. Or she might throw around an Earth-shaped ball to play a study game which was like Jeopardy. And she often used Jerry, her game show host puppet. If only Professor Binns could think up something fun like that. Roger told me at lunch one day that Professor Binns fell asleep in front of a fire and his spirit drifted away from his body.
I already had liking to our head of house, Professor Flitwick. Call me biased, but Charms soon became my favorite subject. We Ravenclaws put him on a symbolic pedestal in our minds, though he had to stand on a pedestal of textbooks to simply teach our class. Since we had Charms with the Gryffindors (yay us – we had Luca), I got to stalk my lovely cousin for a little while longer. Harry kept his head down unless called upon. Sometimes he'd answer questions right, sometimes wrong. Remember that know-it-all from the train ride? She's in our Charms class. She's practically standing on the table and screaming, 'Pick me! I know the answer; pick me!' for the entire class. I swear we should try a tranquilizer. During first roll call, when Professor Flitwick called Harry's name, he fell off his books for around ninety seconds.
If Professor McGonagall wasn't head of Gryffindor house, I would swear that she was a Ravenclaw while at school. She was clever, but not one to cross. Don't get me wrong, she'd be fun to anger, but I'd bet her consequences were as severe as Filch would like to have them. Once we sat down for our first lesson, we got a good scolding for events that she was convinced would happen in the future. I'm sure she had to say it quite a few times a day.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. Her face held a hard, stern look as she glanced around the room. I seriously doubted her first statement. There must've been something worse than changing one thing into something else. Potions can explode. There are charms to make things go on fire and/or explode. I didn't see anything there exploding. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." Like I haven't heard that one before. Come on, now, this in the twentieth century. She can't be threatening death.
When she changed her desk into a pig and back again, the Gryffindors let out little gasps. Some Ravenclaws gaped at her. I must admit, it was pretty cool. I figured that Transfiguration wouldn't be a cakewalk, so we probably won't be changing furniture to animals for a long while. For most of our class, she had us jotting down complicated notes. After we did, Professor passed out a match to each student. She told us that we should turn the match into a needle. By the end of class, only Hermione Granger (Know-it-All) and I had a shiny, pointed needle. With a smile, she showed off Hermione's needle. To me, I received a curt nod and a 'very good, Miss Evans.' I supposed she favored her little Gryffindors.
I had Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Hufflepuffs. They all seemed to have had a few espressos before our class. Some Ravenclaws displayed some mild excitement, too. Those who had high hoped were severely disappointed by the end of our class. Professor Quirrell apparently sprayed his room with garlic-scented air fresheners. He claimed that it was warding off a vampire he met in Romania that he said would try to come back and murder him. I say that he was warding off all chances of finding a girlfriend to occupy his time instead of hanging out with vampires, but that's just me. He wore a large purple turban, which he claimed an African prince gave him for getting rid of a troublesome zombie. I didn't believe it. The closest this one's ever been to royalty was probably Burger King. Michael Corner asked what sorts of defensive spells were required to fend off a zombie, but Quirrell turned the color of a strawberry and mumbled something about the weather.
Everyone was generally clueless when it came to magic. Not even the ones who came from wizarding families were very far ahead. All they really knew were a few hexes, which didn't help much. Most people actually came from a family with at least one Muggle parent.
Mandy, Lisa, and I rarely got ourselves lost going to our meals. Danny or Roger would find their way to our last class before lunch and walk us down, or wait for us to get up before going to breakfast. By the end of the week, we had generally memorized the way down to the Great Hall. Conversations with the two of them were highly animated and interesting to be caught in the middle of.
One morning, I nibbled at some eggs while Lisa ran through our Friday schedule.
"Double potions?" Danny questioned, peering over her shoulder.
"Oh, look, he's learned to read!" Mandy cried. She clapped her hands and smiled smugly at Danny.
"Shut it, Mandy," he glared. "You're not going to like having an hour and a half with Snape."
"Al least they're not with his prize Slytherins," Roger chimed in. "They've got it with the Hufflepuffs. He hates us equally."
Danny rolled his eyes. "Just do what he says, when he says it, and don't mess up. He should be somewhat tolerable if you do that."
I honestly couldn't believe what I was hearing. A teacher, that cruel? If you're a teacher, you should at least like children.
Then, the morning mail arrived. Seeing all the owls together for the first time was a mesmerizing sight. I noticed Harry's owl, Hedwig, give something to Leonardo. Harry was sending me a letter from ten feet away? Talk about laziness. Leonardo flapped his way down to my plate. I gave him a small piece of my toast. He dropped a letter in my lap while he took a place on my shoulder. I unfolded the parchment and looked at Harry's writing.
Holly –
Hagrid's having tea this afternoon, 'round three. Wanna come?
– Harry
I rolled my eyes at how awkward his words sounded. I glanced up to find my cousin's green eyes staring at me. I smirked and wrote a reply under his brief message.
Harry –
Sure, I'll come. And lighten up, okay? I'm your cousin. And I'm not even a Slytherin, for crying out loud!
Yours, Holly
I looked up when I felt someone's eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. Mandy was reading over my shoulder.
"Tea with your cousin and the Hogwarts gamekeeper? Sounds…fun. You sure you wouldn't rather hang out in the common room, maybe with Filch?" she asked. She was playing with her quill, a blue jay feather.
"That's the point, Mandy," I countered. "I can get into trouble and have a party with Filch and you guys any time I like. I honestly doubt I'll be able to spend much time with Harry."
"What gives you that idea?" Lisa said from my left. The girl looked like a deer with her wide, innocent eyes. She's a very good actress.
"I don't know. I just feel it." With that I gave the note back to Leonardo. While he was making his way over to Harry, I stuck my tongue out at him. No harm in a little teasing, right? When Leonardo dropped the letter, Harry quickly unfolded it. He looked way too excited. I'm not that amazing…or am I? He looked up and smiled at me. See, we're making progress! On another piece of parchment, probably Hagrid's letter, Harry scribbled something and gave it to Hedwig.
This afternoon, I had double potions, then a break, and Herbology. I remember from when Mandy swiped Know-it-All's schedule that she, and all the other Gryffindors, including Harry, had double potions while we had Herbology and break. The potions dungeon was the height of cool. It was cold with pickled animals in colored goo filled jars scattered around. I knew, from the first banquet, that Snape didn't exactly like Harry and me. My suspicions were proven right by the end of my first lesson, but he had a general disliking for everyone. Though, however, he seemed to have a strange soft spot for me.
"Yes," he muttered, "An Evans. Let's hope you have the mind of your father and aunt, shall we?" What on Earth was the creep talking about? Professor Snape did scare me a little, worse than Professor McGonagall, but there was something about him. Like he wasn't a cold, heartless man, but he had been hurt and was just protecting himself from the pain again with some kind of metaphorical mask. His eyes were a frigid black. I swear the man was hiding something…but what?
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making." No, sir, we are here because the law requires it. But carry on. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really fully understand the beauty of the softly shimmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…" Yup, he thinks highly of us. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Gee, thanks, Professor. Guess we'll have to prove that one wrong.
"Evans!" he snapped. It's rude to call someone by their last name, you know…though I do it myself. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Simple. If you read One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, you'd get it. "Draught of Living Death, sir," I replied, looking Professor Snape in his cold black eyes.
His face didn't change when I answered correctly. "Where, Brocklehurst, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"
Mandy pursed her lips, probably trying to find the answer in that head of hers. "A goat's stomach. It will save one from most poisons."
The same reaction from our Professor. We Ravenclaws are good. Scary good.
"And, Abbott, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" He sent a sneer her way. This was the first example I got of how cruel the professor could be. He had opted to question a student who was already shaking before she entered his class.
"I…er…I…" Hannah shook like she was left in Alaska wearing nothing but a wet swimsuit. The poor thing looked really terrified.
"They are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying those answers down?" Already did, Professor. I gave him a good run for his money there. And I did the same many, many more times. There was a sudden rummaging for parchment and quills from the Hufflepuffs. Over the noise, Professor said, "And five points from Hufflepuff; come to my class prepared."
Professor put us into pairs to have us brew a simple potion to cure boils. Lisa and I were together, and Mandy was behind us with Terry Boot. He swept around the room like a bat in his flowing robes, observing us while we weighed dried nettles and crush snake fangs. He had a bit of criticism for everyone. I, apparently, was crushing my fangs the wrong way, like she used to do. There were different ways to crush fangs? And who is she?
By the end of class, most Ravenclaw potions, and a few Hufflepuff potions, were sending clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hiss through the dungeon. Potions, I thought, turned out to be extremely uneventful. Well, aside from the fact that I had a little mystery on my hands. Maybe Harry would know something about it.
After Herbology had passed, it was quite dull this time, though Malfreak screamed at a spider, it was about ten to three. I left the classroom picking dirt from under my nails.
"See you in the common room, Holly," Lisa gave me a one-arm hug as she turned down the hall.
"Yeah," Mandy continued, "don't get in trouble for being out late without us. We'll miss the fun," she said with a wink.
"I'll do my best. Harry probably won't want to get himself caught by Filch. I doubt he would want to tarnish his Harry-ness," I smirked. I waited by the stairs to the dungeons for Harry. No one likes to walk alone, right? Harry came up the stairs with some tall redhead. No, not an Irish model. Some random boy who was apparently a Gryffindor, too; his tie was a red as his hair.
Harry sent a small smile my way. "This is Ron," he said. Person-Named-Ron gave a little wave.
"Hi," I said.
"How'd you know we had potions?" PNR asked. Now, if I could come up with a good lie for that, someone should elect me to congress.
"Well," I started, "I can read minds."
"Doubt it, Holly," Harry smirked. "You steal someone schedule?"
I sighed. "Yes," I muttered.
"I won't tell. We should start out. Don't want to be late for Hagrid, do we?" Harry started walking again. We made our way across the grounds. I loved the openness and all the green. It was almost as beautiful at Fitchburg, minus the glittering sunlight. The scenery here was almost always overcast. Little dots of yellow poked their heads up across the grounds. Trees littered the gentle hills. Some were evergreen, others were deciduous.
Ron walked with his hands in his pockets, bobbing his head up and down with each step. He looked pretty strange while doing it. Harry walked between us. Hagrid's tiny house could easily be mistaken for a hut. It was a wooden structure by the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Outside, he kept a crossbow (Why did he need that? Did he hunt his own food?) and a pair of rain boots. Harry knocked twice on the door. Inside, we heard a frantic scrambling. There were a few ferocious barks.
Hagrid's voice rang out, "Back, Fang – Back!" A furry face, not the dog's, appeared in a crack in the door.
"Hold on," he said, closing the door again. "Back, Fang." Finally, he controlled his dog. The door opened again. Fang was an enormous black boarhound. His mouth was dripping with drool.
We moved into the one-room cabin, closing the door behind us. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling. I guess he did hunt his own food. On an open fire was a copper pot. A patchwork quilt rested atop a massive bed in the far corner.
"Make yerselves at home." Hagrid let go of Fang. He bounded over to Ron, tackled him, and started licking his ears. That's my kind of dog; attack the visitors, but still harmless.
"This is Ron," Harry said, "And Holly…but you probably met her already." Hagrid was pouring boiling water into a teapot and set rock cakes on the table.
"Yep, met 'Olly 'fore school started. And another Weasley, eh?" He glanced at Ron's freckles. "Spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest." So the infamous Gryffindor twins were Ron's brothers? I really couldn't get that from their personalities.
The rock cakes Hagrid made were shapeless things with raisins that nearly broke my jaw. I got enough of that from hockey, thanks. Harry and Ron shared pained glances as they helped themselves to more. I could tell that they weren't enjoying them any more than I was, though I settled for one. Harry talked about his first few lessons, with Ron and me chiming in every few sentences. Harry's robes were soaking wet from Fang's head on his knee. Hagrid called the new friend of Ravenclaw an 'old git'. I'd have to tell Mandy and Lisa about that; they'd be delighted.
"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D' yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it."
Harry started talking about potions. Snape wasn't that bad. Not exactly enjoyable, but it was fine…sort of. Hagrid told him not to worry about it; Snape doesn't really like any of his students.
"But he seems to really hate me," he pressed. Oh, God, Harry, give it a rest! Back-to-school stress could be the culprit.
"Rubbish!" Hagrid said. "Why should he?" He didn't meet Harry's eyes when he said that, though. I had an interesting thought. Why did Snape seemingly hate Harry, and almost favor me? Something to ponder. Maybe Roger or Danny knew something.
"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked, facing Ron. How many brothers did this kid have? "I like him a lot – great with animals." While Ron rambled on about Charlie, Harry picked up a news clipping from under the table. He glanced it over and tapped my arm. I leaned over a little, pretending to concentrate on Ron while listening to Harry.
"Gringotts was broken into," he whispered. "They think it was a Dark wizard. The vault that was broken into was an empty one."
"But what was in it that someone would want?" I replied. My eyes drifted from Hagrid and Ron, the way they do when I start to think about something.
"It had to be something more than money; they could've broken into any vault for that. The article didn't say, though."
"I wonder…" I trailed off.
"Hagrid emptied a vault in Gringotts when I was there with him…seven hundred thirteen…all that was in it was a grubby little package."
"Do you think that was when the thieves wanted, Harry?"
"I don't know," He said. He looked up again. "Hagrid! That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday!" Oh gee, is that all that was going through his head? "It might've been happening while we were there!" Did he not just say to me that the vault Hagrid emptied might've been the vault that was broken into? Unless they saw it in front of them, he was contradicting himself!
Hagrid merely grunted this time, definitely not meeting Harry's eyes. He looked at the article again.
While we walked back, I laughed at Harry and Ron for the rock cakes they were forced to take with them. Apparently, they had never learned how to politely decline something. I thought about Harry's words after the teasing had ceased to entertain me. Was it that package Hagrid got from the vault? Did he get it just in time? And where was the thing now? And what was up with Professor Snape?
Back in my common room, Mandy, Lisa, Danny, and Roger were waiting for me by the door. What are they? My parents?
"How'd it go?" Lisa spoke first.
"Well, I found out that there are at least four Weasley brothers—"
"Nope, six brothers, one sister," Danny corrected. "But go on."
"Gringotts was robbed on Harry's birthday," Mandy smirked at this. "But the robber didn't get anything, as Harry and I think that the vault broken into was the vault that Hagrid emptied earlier that day. Snape hates Harry more than anyone else—"
"Honest?" Roger asked. "Why would he hate him more?"
"And that he apparently likes me."
"That was unexpected," he said bluntly.
"But I have no idea why. And during class, he kept comparing me to her."
"Who's her?" Danny asked.
"I don't know. That's the thing."
"If you do some simple math," Mandy started. "People usually have children between twenty and thirty give or take a few years."
"And," Lisa jumped in, "Snape is about twenty years older than you."
"Meaning?" I asked. Where were they going with this?
"Professor Snape was in school at the same time as your dad. His sister, your aunt, was a few years younger than him," Danny finished.
I finally got it.
"So Professor Snape might be referring to Lily Potter – your aunt! You look exactly like her…there's a good chance, Holly!" Roger said.
"But why?" I asked.
"That, grasshopper, we have to figure out," Mandy patted my shoulder.
"What on Earth are you doing up this late? Get to bed, you lot!" Penelope Clearwater shooed us all upstairs to our dorms and she came down for her evening patrol in the halls. Filch in Training.
That night, I laid awake, thinking about the possibilities. Snape hated Aunt Lily for something that she did to get him upset, or he was distraught by Aunt Lily's death. If it was the latter, why would he have reason to? Could they have possibly been friends? And if they were, why did he hate Harry, her son?
So many of my questions led to more and more that I couldn't answer. I left time to untangle this one; it was much too big a knot for me to untie.