NOTES
I'm back at school now, but I'm going to try as hard as I can to type away at Holly. So I'm going to try publishing at least one new chapter every month. Sorry if I don't, guys and gals. I love my readers, and all the reviews. Thank you!
I have the strangest beta situation ever. Seriously; throughout Holly, I've had four or five different ones. But thanks to everyone who helped me…no matter how much or how little!
DISCLAIMER
Harry: Go. Away.
Me: Fine. Keep yourself.
Holly
Chapter Seven-New Heights…Literally
Most classes had a combination of two houses. Flying, on the other hand, had all four houses in one class. Translation: I get to show Malfreak that I'm better than him. At breakfast that morning, a Thursday, Mandy wouldn't shut up.
"See, I heard that Malfoy's really good at Quidditch," she was saying. She took a heaping spoonful of oatmeal.
"That's probably all talk, though," Danny countered. "Most Slytherins are just that. Way. They think they're all God's gift to the universe."
"But—"
"We'll just wait and see how he does today," Lisa rolled her eyes. My bet was that she had a headache, like Roger and I.
"I hope he isn't all that amazing. I have five galleons on him epically failing," Terry sighed. Only recently had he, Michael Corner, and Anthony Goldstein began sitting with us. We're just one big, happy Ravenclaw family…right?
"Last thing I want to do is make an idiot of myself in front of thirty-nine other people," Anthony whimpered. He could be such a little drama queen at times.
"Well, thirty-four. You're already an idiot to us, Anthony!" Michael assured him. How encouraging. Did I every mention that I'm not a morning person? Because I'm not.
All that little Malfreak ever did was complain about not being able to play Quidditch. Then again, the only thing you ever heard come out of his mouth was a complaint. Either it was Quidditch, McGonagall, Flitwick, Harry, or something else that crossed him, you never hear something positive come out of his mouth. Living as a pessimist shortens your life. It's true! I read it somewhere…beats me where, though. Someone should tell the little creep that. Maybe he'd become a happier person. But he might not have the ability to. Stupid boy.
Not all Slytherins were as bad his him. Most were, but two weren't. Pansy and Millie Bulstrode weren't. They'd helped us sneak down to Hufflepuff common room quite a few times and accompanied us to Filch's Land of Madonna and Cauldron Cleaning. Pansy could be found humming Like a Virgin while she stared at Draco. To be completely honest, that creeped me out. She was like a little stalker to him. And he didn't seem to care at all for her. She really deserved better, but she had her heart set on him. And doesn't Draco mean 'dragon' in some other language? Doesn't that seem like a warning of some sort?
Flying didn't seem to be extremely difficult, the way Mandy, Danny, and Roger yelled about it. Yes, they yelled. No, I don't think anyone enjoyed it. The other three boys chirped in every once in a while, adding in anecdotes about how amazingly amazing flying is. I'd like to put them all on ice, give them a nice stick, and see where that goes. Flying my ass. Hockey is the sport above all sports. The blood, sweat, and tears are just an added bonus.
That little toad from Gryffindor, Hermione, ended up friends with Harry. Talk about a culture shock. I decided to give her one more chance, just to see how she is. I mean, if Harry likes her, why not? But she was a total know-it-all. Mandy affectionately nicknamed her the Wannabe Ravenclaw. I thought the name was fitting for her. Yes we're insanely brilliant, but we don't go flaunting it around.
That pretty white owl hadn't come for Harry since Hagrid's letter. I say come for him like she's going to kill him. Maybe she will. Owls are perfectly capable of that. But a large barn owl brought a package for one of Harry's friends. At least, I assume he was one of his friends. Opening the paper, he held up a snow globe-looking thing.
"That's a Rememberball," Roger said, following my gaze. "I've got one at home."
"Why do you need one, Roger? You're hardly forgetful…or are you?" Mandy giggled.
Danny glared at her and tried to shove some jelly up her nose.
"I'm not, Mandy. My uncle gave it to me when I was younger. I used it a lot then, but I grew out of it and started…remembering things." He shrugged and looked back to the Gryffindor table. The thing was glowing bright red. "That means that he forgot something," he said.
As Malfreak was passing the table, he snatched the ball from the boy's hands. Look, I don't know the kid, but seriously? If you're going to do something like that, do it when their head's turned. He's obviously not Thief of the Year.
Professor McGonagall was right next to the boy as Harry and Ron hopped up in a very Pop-Tart manner. Words that I couldn't make out were exchanged, but Malfreak eventually dropped the ball and sulked away with his minions.
At five-to-three, the six of us went down the front steps to our first flying lesson. Terry tried to trip Michael down the steps, but only ended up kissing the ground himself. It was breezy that day; Lisa had to pull back her hair, as it bothered her when it got into her mouth. Mandy and I suffered in silence. Thin fingers of green licked at the clear blue sky. It was a bit long, but I liked the look of it. We made our way down a small hill to a valley opposite the forest of dark, unmoving figures.
The Slytherins and Gryffindors were already there. I edged my way over to Harry, standing by him with Mandy on my right. The Gryffindors seemed to be as far away as possible from the Slytherins, so we were opposite them. Pansy waved at us from her place next to Malfreak. He's such a creep. Why does she like him so much?
Once the Hufflepuffs showed up, Madam Hooch got started the class. She could easily be compared to an owl with her topaz eyes and cropped gray hair sprinkled with black.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she snapped. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." Sheesh, Lady. I looked at my broom. It looked like Fang ate it. Great…I wonder how that's going to feel on the legs.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom…your right hand, you there," she scolded Hannah Abbot. Why is she always shaking? She might want to see a doctor about that. "And say 'up!'"
"UP!" everyone shouted. My broom flew into my hand. It was one of the few that did. Mandy's did as well, and she looked pretty smug about it. Harry had a firm grip on his. I noticed that Lisa's eye twitched when it rolled over. Her face just had that look. You know the one that says the…fuck? Terry stood there, kicking his broom. I doubted abuse would get him anywhere. Michael and Anthony repeatedly said "up!" while their broom sat there. Maybe they were sleeping.
When showed how to mount our brooms, Malfreak had a bitch-fit. Madam Hooch told him that he had been doing it wrong his whole life. Both Mandy and Harry suppressed a laugh. Why is it so hard not to laugh when the people on either side of you are letting little giggles slip out? Madam Hooch was correcting everyone's grips; only my left thumb was in the wrong place.
"Now when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet," she said (She's British, why did she say feet?), "and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two –"
But our little eager beaver, the one with the Rememberball, lifted off the ground before 'one'. He rose straight up, first ten, then fifteen, then twenty feet. His face was so noticeably pale that he looked like one of the ghosts. Suddenly, the poor thing tumbled to the ground. I was surprised he wasn't screaming. When he started wobbling on his broom, I knew that spelt trouble for the boy. He slipped from his broom, and everything seemed to move slowly in my eyes. My breath caught in my throat as he fell, flipping as an Olympic diver would. Competition gone wrong, he kissed the ground with a loud crack. What part of his body had broken?
His broom left him behind as it drifted lazily towards to forest. Neville lay there, pink-cheeked, as Madam Hooch bent over his body. His back rise and fell, either with sobs or heavy breathing.
"Broken wrist," she muttered lightly. "Come on, boy. It's all right, up you get." She turned and glared at us, as if it was our fault. "None of you move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."
No sooner had Madam Hooch left, Malfreak burst into a fit of wild laughter. He smiled up at his very large (in more ways than one) friends.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?" A…lump? Are all people from the British Isles this creative? Anyone I know from Massachusetts could do better than that! If Kalee, my neighbor back home, had been in his place, she would've called him a clumsy-assed sack of lard. And that is much better than the term 'lump'.
The other Slytherins joined in, throwing around more pitiful insults.
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped a dark-haired Gryffindor.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy snickered. She surprised me then. Pansy seemed generally good natured to me her. I knew that she must have been putting on some sort of show for the Barbie doll next to her. This was not Pansy. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."
Parvati recoiled, leaning on a blonde girl next to her.
"Look!" My head snapped over to Malfreak. In his hand was Longbottom's Rememberball, glittering in the afternoon sunlight. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
Beside me, Harry's back straightened. "Give that here, Malfoy," he choked out. I'd have to teach him a lesson on self confidence. Malfreak sneered at my cousin, seeming to take advantage of Harry's nervousness. Here we go.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find…how about…up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry yelled. Too bad for our boy hero, Malfreak was already ascending to the heavens on his broom. Though the creep couldn't hold the broom properly, according to Madam Hooch, he really could fly well. I noticed Terry pass a few coins to Anthony. I supposed he lost his bet. "Come and get it, Potter!" Malfreak shouted from the branch of an oak tree.
Harry's hand twitched to his broom, but Hermione Granger grasped his arm.
"No!" she shouted, holding him back. "Madam Hooch told us not to move…you'll get in trouble!" And who exactly gives a damn? Ignoring her, Harry flung his leg over the broom. He kicked off hard from the ground, rising quickly in the air.
I turned and blinked at Mandy. Her chocolate irises sparkled at me in a mischievous way. I soon found out what she had been planning. She picked up my broom and shoved me on it. She nodded eagerly.
"You're sure now?" I murmured, running my thumb over the cold, glossy wood.
"Of course! Go help your cousin beat the crap out of that loser!" I bit my lip and kicked off, rising just as fast as Harry had been. My fiery locks whipped at my face, obstructing my vision ever so slightly. I brushed my bangs behind my ear, enjoying the flow of the broom. It was almost as easy for me as gliding around on the frozen water of a hockey rink. But this, I had never done before. Hockey took me years to learn.
Glancing down from the higher branches of Malfreak's tree, I noticed Harry turn his broom sharply towards him. I had no idea what to do with myself, so I hovered above them, just in case.
"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"
"Oh yeah?" Barbie countered shakily, trying to appear strong. Fail.
"Danny was right this morning! You are all talk! Look at yourself; you're afraid of Harry! Admit it!" I yelled down. The Blonde Bitch glared at me, trying to sneer.
Harry short forward, seeming to aim for Malfreak. I should get him a pair of skates; see what he can do. Too bad Barbie got away from him. I would've loved to see a collision. It probably would've been just as bad (good) as Courtney and that mammoth from New Hampshire. That was a great one; especially after I found out Courtney broke the girl's nose.
Harry looped around and sent a fierce look Malfreak's way. "No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," he spat. Realization hit Malfreak's face. Did the idiot seriously not consider this?
"Catch it if you can, then!" Barbie yelled. Rocketing back for the ground, he threw the ball up. I blinked at the glittering sphere. Catch it, dummy! My inner self yelled to me. I shot out from the leaves and made a grab for the ball. My fingers pressed against the cool glass and fell to the palm of my hand. I looked up from the ball and realized I was about to hit a very lovely tree. I swerved to my right, but dropped the ball in the meantime. My eyes wandered down and rested on my cousin – my cousin who was in the perfect place to catch the ball.
"Harry!" I called. "Get the thing!" He looked up at the falling ball, leaned forward, and pointed his broom handle down. He gained distance on the ball quickly. Reaching forward, he caught the ball. He was nearly a foot from the ground, and rolled onto the ground. The Rememberball was still clutched in his hand. I landed neatly beside him, and shot him a quick grin.
"HOLLY EVANS AND HARRY POTTER!" Oh crap. I felt my heart burst into hot flames and my eyes instinctively narrowed. Yelling was more than uncalled for. Harry looked like he was about to cry. I'm not kidding this time; are all European people such wusses? I gave him my hand to help his shaking body up.
"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –" Professor McGonagall was running towards us while breathing heavily. I think I'll go ahead and petition for Phys Ed classes at Hogwarts. "—how dare you two – might have broken your necks –" That would've been a fun lawsuit; Evans v. Crazy Magic School.
"It wasn't their fault, Professor –"
"Be quiet, Miss Turpin –"
"But Malfoy –"
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, Evans, follow me, now." Barbie and his friends had triumphant looks on their faces and Harry followed Professor McGonagall. I flipped them off quickly before I went after McGonagall myself.
Harry hung his head and breathed heavily as we walked in Professor's wake. Something must have been bothering him that I didn't know. I realized that I didn't know so much about him, though. How could I be making assumptions already? On the contrary to him, I walked holding my head high. I had absolutely nothing to lose. What was the worse they could do? Take away my flying rights? That certainly wouldn't stop me from trying.
On our silent walk up the vast marble staircases, Harry's facial expression didn't get any better. What was he so upset about? And why does he look like he would burst into tears at any moment? Professor McGonagall led us through a few corridors, and I noticed we passed the 'abandoned' hall where the Founders' hallway was. Helena glided by us, offering a small, friendly smile to me, which I returned. My main question was where in the wizarding world were we going?
Professor McGonagall stopped us outside a classroom, which, if I remembered right, was the charms room. Opening the door, she poked her head in.
'Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood and Davies for a moment?" Wood…probably some sort of stick to get lashed with, like they do in Singapore. And Davies was…oh no. Roger Davies. Just my luck, huh? Was he some sort of student authority that got to beat first years with sticks? Great, just great.
Wood, actually, was a person. Roger looked petite in comparison with him; he was nearly twice the size of my older housemate. The way he walked had a certain aura; it made him look overly confident. But he did, unlike Roger, look somewhat baffled. Roger snorted after he saw me, which earned him a glare from Professor McGonagall. He bit his lip and shook a little bit, trying not to laugh at me. Idiot.
"Follow me, you four," she said, leading us down a corridor. Oliver was gawking at Harry. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was another stalker creep. And, you guessed it, I didn't know any better.
McGonagall opened up a door. Peeves, the second best non-living thing on campus, wrote some of my favorite words on the chalkboard. Major points to Peeves.
"Out, Peeves!" Frigging party poopers always ruin everything. He tossed the chalk in a trash can and left in a fit of laughter. McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to us. Her flushed face displayed the exact amount of anger she felt.
"Potter, Evans," she began, "this is Oliver Wood and Roger Davies." Oliver glanced between Harry, McGonagall, Roger, and me. He rested a pretty glare on Roger; house rivalry much? "Boys, I've found you two a pair of Seekers." Oliver's expression changed to bliss. Roger blinked at us, and fought to hold back a grin.
"I'm sorry, Professor, but I can't have Harry as a Seeker, as he's in Gryffindor. You don't really expect me to use my best friend's little sister's best friend, do you?" He was so cheeky! I'd be a damn good Seeker…whatever that is…better than Harry; I'll tell you that!
Oliver shoved Roger in the shoulder, trying to be playful, but he almost pushed Roger over. He glared back at the older Gryffindor. "Are you serious, Professor?" he smiled broadly.
"Yes, I do, Mister Davies," she said curtly. "And absolutely, Mister Wood." Her tone softened when speaking to Oliver. I could tell she was just a bit biased. "This is a pair of natural fliers. I've never seen anything like them. Potter, Evans, was this your first time on broomsticks?"
Harry and I nodded. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. So we weren't being expelled? We were being praised for breaking rules? I liked that.
"Holly caught the thing in mid air and swerved away from a tree that was less than a meter away from her face. And he caught it from a large dive. And there's not a scratch on them! Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it. And Julie Scribner certainly couldn't have, either."
Wood looked like he just saw the most heavenly of scenes and all of his prayers answered. And Roger looked at me like I had to heads. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he returned the favor.
"Ever see a game of Quidditch, Potter?" Wood eagerly grabbed Harry's arm. I shared a glance with Roger. He knows I haven't.
"Wood's the captain of the Gryffindor team; Roger the captain for Ravenclaw," McGonagall interjected.
"He's just the build for a Seeker, too," Wood said, circling Harry. "Light…speedy…"
"But Holly's smaller. Probably lighter, too," Roger countered. What was this? 'Who gets the best new kid – bragging rights included'?
"We'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor," Oliver continued, "a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleensweep Seven, I'd say."
"And whatever he gets," Roger pointed to Harry, "Holly gets the same. We don't want an unfair advantage. Keep it clean, yeah, Wood?"
"Er…yeah." Wood looked disappointed – he obviously wanted the better hand.
"I'll speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we Gryffindors need a better team than last year. Flattened by the Slytherins—"
"So were we…though we flattened you lot, too," Roger chuckled.
"Right, Mister Davies," McGonagall peered over her glasses at him, but switched her gaze to harry and me. "I want to hear you're training hard, or I might change my mind about punishing you two." But she smiled slightly. "Your fathers, both of you, would have been proud. Both were excellent players for Gryffindor in their day."
At dinner, Roger was fuming.
This time, surprisingly, it wasn't my fault. Mandy and Lisa were teasing him for being so cocky about his new Seeker. If you ask me, he had every right to be cocky. That Seeker must be pretty good to be on of two exceptions to the rules…right?
"Roger, if you don't shut up, I'm going to have Millicent come over here and slap you," Mandy growled. Millicent was one of Pansy's friends. She was pretty cool.
"Ugh, no! Not that toad!" he scoffed.
"Be nice, Roger. Or we'll really go get her," Lisa threatened.
Roger coughed. "I'm sorry, but I'd rather if your large and scary friend would not cause pain to my face." I started laughing, grabbing Terry's arm. Michael and Anthony practically fell over.
"Ow! What the Hell, Danny?" Roger glared at the older (and taller) boy behind him who had Cheshire-Cat grin. Danny flicked his ear again.
"You're being over confident, Roger. For all we know, she could suck under pressure," Danny shrugged.
"I do not!" I retorted, pouting.
"I said 'could', child! Not 'will'! I'll give you a chance…but I won't be making promises or anything. I'm not all that wonderful with tea leaves and crystal balls. Otherwise, I'd have a third arm," he laughed at that last bit. Please tell me he was joking.
"You're such an idiot, Danny," Roger laughed. "Holly, we'll start your cruel and ruthless training over the weekend. Some of my methods may be illegal, but they work. So don't go telling the ministry."
I had a feeling he wasn't joking. But I've been through hockey boot camp. It can't be much worse than having your leg sliced open by another player's skate.
"Yeah, sure," I sighed. "It'll be…fun."
"That's what you think." Danny stared at me with a crazed look. What have I gotten myself into? Looking up, I saw Barbie, with his pet pigs, standing over Harry. I strained to hear, but couldn't over the noise of the other students. I made a mental not to learn how to read lips.
Harry's red-haired friend, whose name escaped me, whirled around to face Barbie. After a few more words were exchanged, the blonde left with his followers. Harry looked up, meeting my eyes. He looked like he'd been slapped and insulted numerous times, not to mention extremely scared. Now what did the idiot get himself into?
"Lisa," I muttered, "we need to make nice with some Gryffindors."
She groaned, looking at me with sad eyes. "Do we have to?"
"Yes, if you want to know what Harry's up to. He looks…suspicious, doesn't he?" I stared her down. Really, I was right. I'm always right.
"Well, yeah," she sighed. "But why is it our problem?"
"Because I am a nosy little girl who likes to get herself into other peoples' business, that's why!"
"Alright," she gave up. Holly wins again! "Who do you propose we 'make nice' with?"
A demonic grin creeped onto my face. "Hermione Granger."