Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Home for the Holidays
When McGonagall posted the sign-up sheet for students staying over the winter holidays, Ron found Fred, George, and me revising ancient runes in the common room. "Hermione thinks we could free Dobby if we stay over the holidays". Ron announced.
Instantly, I had flashes of Ron and Harry drugging other students, breaking into the Slytherin Common Room, and Hermione becoming a catgirl. "No", I answered abruptly. Though… I highly doubt they had been brewing any poly juice potion in this order of events.
Ron adopted an affronted expression. "What do you mean? You can't tell us what to do".
Tilting my chin down, I pinned Ron with a 'try me' look. I may not be able to do much to Harry and Hermione, but I could hogtie Ron and lock him in my trunk if that's what it took to get him home. "No one's spending Christmas with a possessed and possibly homicidal Lockhart lose in the castle", I said.
Fred and George nodded their support. "Mum would kill you if you're the only one who stays behind", George stated.
"Even Bill and Charlie are coming this year", Fred added.
Ron rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's you three who said it was important to free the ruddy house-elf-".
"And you'll have a whole other semester to get that done", I interjected.
Ron continued as if I hadn't said anything. "And it's only Holly who Lockhart wants to kill".
It was my turn to roll my eyes. On my first day as Flitwick's teacher's aide, the Hogwarts rumor mill was saturated with reasons why I had done so. Class schedules were rarely changed at this school. Fred and George told me they got many questions about where I had gone and if Lockhart had done anything for all the weird things I had said. Adrian too. Except it was the Slytherins interrogating him. Adrian hadn't been pleased when he found out about my new teacher's aide position from a random student. I had to stomach a whole lecture on keeping him in the loop before he forgave me. "What about Harry?" I asked my younger brother; planning on using his best friend against him.
Ron frowned and his forehead became wrinkled. "What about him?"
Fred caught on to what I was doing pretty fast. "That's right. This will be Harry's first Christmas with Sirius at his house".
Ron's face softened as he looked down. "You sure you want to take that from him?" George asked Ron.
Ron gave us a guilt-heavy "No", and we knew we won. "Are you three any closer to getting the diary and stopping Lockhart?" Ron changed the subject; slightly lowering his voice.
We looked around, quickly scanning the room for any eavesdroppers. But, for once, everyone seemed occupied by their own business. "No", Fred answered.
"In fact, Holly's mission to be Lockhart's most hated disliked student was a huge step back", George added as he shot me a glare.
I shook my head but refrained from commenting. My fellow triplets weren't giving me the cold shoulder, lecturing me, or putting slime in my socks; but they still weren't happy with me or my choices. "We don't know what got into her", Fred continued, lamenting to our younger brother like I wasn't there. "But clearly she isn't as smart as we thought she was".
I stomped his foot from under the table we were using to study. Causing Fred to wince. That would teach him not to insult me when he's pretending I'm not there. Ron snorted. "I could have told you that". This prat.
Feeling a headache coming on, I dropped my quill and pinched the bridge of my nose. "You do realize I had a college degree, right? That I've completed some type of schooling when you guys haven't". I said as I tried to explain that I was, in fact, capable of making smart decisions.
"Jolly Holly", George started, making his voice sound pitying; like he was embarrassed on my behalf. "Spending more time in school than us doesn't mean you're smarter".
"If anything, it means you're so slow that you needed all those extra years of school", Fred pointed out.
I turned my head left and right. Fred and George were wearing identical grins and I knew they managed to turn me into a punchline again. Frowning, I sighed. Why was it always so easy for them to get the last word or win every verbal spar? Is it because there are two of them?
Seeing the change in my expression, George decided to keep this little bit of theirs going. "Oh", he cooed. "Don't worry, Jolly Holly. We still love you". He swung an arm over my shoulders while Fred put an arm around my waist; sandwiching me in.
"Even if you are a little thick", Fred added. "We'll help. Make sure you won't need as much schooling in this life as you did the last". I could feel my face heating up, and the smirk Ron wore as he watched all of this wasn't helping. Gits. All of them.
From the other side of the room, I spotted Percy walking towards the portrait exit with his bookbag slung over his shoulder. "Percy!" I called before he could leave; a whiny sound stained my voice. He stopped and turned in our direction. His eyes scanned all the Gryffindors in the common room as he searched for me. There's no question about who called him. I'm really the only sibling that seeks him out for help. When his eyes found me, Percy adjusted his glasses. That's my cue to tell him what I wanted. "George, Ron, and Fred are picking on me", I complained as the three in question shot me incredulous looks. No one really tattle-tales in our family. So, me asking for backup is kind of a low blow. But, I mean, come on. It's three against one.
Percy cleared his throat and looked at each of our brothers before looking back at me. "Better you than me", he called with a half-shrug as he continued his way out of the common room.
My jaw dropped as my fellow triplets and Ron burst out in laughter; startling some of the other students in the room. That wasn't what I expected. As Ron left to rejoin his friends, and Fred and George continued to bust a gut next to me; I buried my face into the pages of our shared ancient runes book as if to say I admitted defeat. In my opinion, the holidays couldn't come soon enough.
Burnt hair. The smell of someone using a flat iron a little too long permeates the air. It's unpleasant and suffocating. And the actual reason as to why the room smells like burnt hair is far worse than someone using a flat iron. "Boys and Girls, please be mindful of where you are aiming your casting", Flitwick reminded his first-year students as I put my hair out for the third time. With the end of term fast approaching, Flitwick decided to teach the first years the fire-making spell. "Something cheery for the holidays", he said. The students worked in pairs; spread out in the classroom with small piles of kindling in front of them. Flitwick and I were going around to each group; correcting wand movements and pronunciations. One boy, in particular, was still holding his wand in an unusual grip, so that had to be corrected too. But that meant Flitwick and I were often in the line of fire. Literally. My hair and robes were getting quite singed. And Flitwick's beard wasn't looking much better.
Why do we teach the fire-making spell to first-years anyway? I mean, I remember learning it when I was eleven. I also remembered right after our charms class, Charlie found us and warned us that if he ever caught us playing with that spell, he'd burn our fingertips until we knew better. And he was right. I mean, seriously, teaching the fire-making spell to first-years was the equivalent of giving sixth-graders matches and telling them to go have fun.
From the other side of the room, I watched as a Hufflepuff girl widened her stance slightly. She pointed her wand downward in the direction of the kindling before carefully saying, "incendio". A small spark shot out of her wand and landed in the fibers of the kindling. It smoked a little before petering out. But that didn't seem to matter to the girl. "I did it!" She exclaimed as she smiled giddily at her partner. I found myself smiling despite myself. Cute kid.
"Excellent, Excellent Miss Condor. Good effort", Flitwick praised. Like me, he was probably happy her attempt didn't lead to more burnt hair.
I turned around so I was facing the students I was trying to help; Luna Lovegood and a boy from Ravenclaw that I didn't know. "Try again", I instructed. The boy nodded slightly, while Luna seemed to be lost in her own little world. Though I know she's not daydreaming. If I were to ask her any question right now, she'd answer me. It probably wouldn't be the correct answer, or it would be a weirdly-worded answer. But I knew she was listening.
"In-incendio", the boy forced out, and automatically I knew nothing would happen. Charms never worked if you stuttered during the incantation. Though I've found some curses can be amenable to slips of the tongue. Not a single spark left the boy's wand.
I tried to make my expression sympathetic, but I doubt I was succeeding. "You have to say the incantation in one go and with intention", I reminded. I mean, how hard was it to say a spell and mean it?
The boy lowered his wand and sniffled. "I don't like fire", he admitted.
I nodded at him in the place of an actual comment, having no idea what to say to that. I could tutor the boy on incantations and wand movements all day long. But it wouldn't mean a thing if he wouldn't let his magic react. I turned to Luna. And even though I didn't want to, I said, "Luna, your turn".
The boy took a cautious step back, and I wanted to do the same. But remained still. When Flitwick had first mentioned he needed help with his first-year class of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, I thought he said so as just an excuse to get me out of defense. But after observing Luna in class… I learned that Flitwick actually did need an extra pair of eyes. Even if the only thing I could do in some instances was yell to get his attention.
Luna gave me a dreamy little smile, suggesting she wasn't fully awake as she raised her wand. I leaned back ever so slightly. It was always hit or miss with Luna. Sometimes she would cast the assigned spell correctly without any mishaps. Other times, Luna would bring to life whatever thought was flying through her fantastical mind; the assignment be damned. A sparkling purple light shot out of Luna's wand and danced over the kindling. At least she had hit the target this time.
It's interesting that Luna, a first-year, could cast magic without incantations. I couldn't do that. And I know it's something taught during NEWT level instruction. I asked Flitwick once why Luna could do nonverbal magic. He had said it wasn't really nonverbal magic. He said Luna was a rare case of a student that had yet to grow out of spontaneous magic.
Our magic is a part of us; a biological instinct in a world where biology wasn't taught. It would flare up without prompting when we, the organism, were in danger of dying no matter our age or training. It was natural, but for Luna to have spontaneous magic when she wasn't in danger spoke to, what Flitwick called, a freeness of thought that only children have. I think the word he was trying to come up with was imagination. An unbridled imagination. She'd grow out of it; Flitwick had assured me with an edge of regret in his tone. And then, when she was asked to cast spells in class, it would be the assigned spell and not what her imagination substituted it for. But still… As I watched the purple light engulf the kindling, I couldn't help but think, if what Flitwick said was true, Luna being able to have spontaneous magic directed through her wand was a mark of a genius. The purple sparkling light faded and in its place stood a feathered, clucking, flightless bird.
"It's a chicken", the boy breathed out in relief as I covered my face with my hand. And yes, a chicken is a better outcome compared to some of Luna's previous attempts. I think her last charms partner was still sporting blue spots on his skin.
Luna hummed to herself as she studied the bird pecking at the stone floor. "Yes, that is a chicken", she said after a moment. "You know, I was thinking about breakfast and how good the eggs were this morning. Do you think there's a correlation?" She asked without directing her question to anyone in particular.
"Luna", I said slowly, wondering if I should have just tried my luck with Lockhart. "This is Charms class, not Transfiguration. We are practicing the fire-making spell. Do you remember the incantation?" I pulled my hand away from my face. Merlin, teaching was hard. Maybe this was why Snape was such a grump. Not because his life didn't work out the way he wanted. Or that the love of his life was murdered. But because he had the seemingly impossible task of making children smart enough to survive to adulthood.
Luna hummed again and offered no answer to my question. "I suppose I could try again", she said as she raised her wand. This time pointing it at the chicken. Bloody hell.
"No!" the boy exclaimed; drawing the attention of some of the other students. But none were surprised by the appearance of the pecking chicken. They had been in class with Luna all semester after all. "Leave Mr. Cluck-cluck alone". I sighed deeply through my nose. Leave it to a first-year to grow emotionally attached to a chicken that was kindling seconds before and name it.
Luna blinked as she stared at the chicken. She didn't lower her wand. "Actually, I think it's Mrs. Cluck-cluck. It's a hen. Not a rooster". Luna tilted her head to the side. "But we are in class. I think I should try again..." She trailed off; eyes narrowing on Mrs. Clu- the chicken. This was the Carrow sisters' influence, wasn't it?
I held up a hand in the universal sign to stop. "You're not setting a chicken on fire", I said in my best big sister voice.
"Oh? But I think Professor Flitwick would be disappointed if I didn't complete the assignment", Luna said in her most lucid voice. It's the most present she's been all class. But at least she lowered her wand.
"You're not setting a chicken on fire", I repeated as I stared at the bird that had wandered over to me and started pecking at my shoes. If I transfigured Mrs. Cluck-cluck back into kindling would I emotionally scar the boy?
"My mum is going to love you, Mrs. Cluck-cluck", the boy said as he walked past Fred, George, and I, standing in line to board the Hogwarts express with the transfigured kindling clucking in a cage. "You're the best Christmas present I've ever gotten her".
I blinked twice before sighing and shaking my head. I was so ready to go home and pretend that the rest of the world doesn't exist for a while. "Think Mum will make her cranberry muffins for breakfast tomorrow if we ask nicely?" Fred asked as we waited for our turn to board. It was kind of a free for all boarding the train from Platform nine and three quarters. But when we boarded at Hogsmeade station, the supervising staff made sure the first-years got on first, since they were responsible to make sure no one who wasn't supposed to, got left behind. My fellow triplets and I had already seen Ginny and friends board the train; looking joyful about heading home but not being too loud about it.
"Umm", I said as I thought out loud. "Do you think McGonagall sent out our report cards yet? We should ask Percy to ask her. She's not going to be too happy with us if she's seen our defense marks", I reasoned. And that is without mentioning my herbology mark. I had gotten an outstanding in potions. That should lessen the blow. Even if the only reason I get good marks in potions is because Adrian is my partner.
George shook his head as we moved up in line. Our trunks had already been loaded, so our arms were free of any burdens. "Percy likes chocolate and pumpkin muffins, and he doesn't like cranberries. What about Ron? Do we know what his marks are?" George asked.
A moment passed as we listened to the sounds of everyone else's conversations. Ron wasn't dumb. In fact, if he tried he could probably rival Percy based on how good he was at chess. But Ron… hated homework… and grammar… and effort. "Maybe if we asked Ginny to ask Mum", I suggested.
"Yeah", Fred said as George nodded. "Let's go with that".
"Weasleys", a familiar voice said as it presented itself. The three of us turned around to see Adrian standing in front of us. "Holly," Adrian continued once he had our attention; only sparing my brothers a nod in greeting. "May I borrow you for the trip home?" Adrian asked me. He was back to being overly formal now that we were in a public space. Not at all like how he was when we were dueling, alone in the unused classroom. Or all the other times we were alone after that.
I smiled. Spending the whole train ride alone with my boyfriend in a compartment sounded wonderful. Especially since we probably wouldn't get to see each other until school resumed. Mum was very gung-ho about family time during the holidays. Even more so now that Bill and Charlie had moved out. But before I could answer, a pair of arms wrapped around my middle and one arm swung around my shoulders. "Absolutely not", Fred said. My smile turned into a scowl. I thought they had gotten over this.
"She's our sister, Pucey. Get your own". George said, squeezing my middle extra hard.
Adrian's left eye twitched. "Holly is your sister", he agreed. "Who happens to be in a relationship with me". He tried to reason. I was surprised he tried. I thought he would've learned by now that it's impossible to reason with Fred and George when they didn't want to be reasoned with.
"Besides", Fred went on to say as if Adrian hadn't said anything. "This goes against our agreement".
Agreement? "What agreement?" I asked, wrinkling my nose.
My brothers ignored me as Adrian shook his head at me. "There's no agreement", he assured.
"We get Holly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays", Fred continued.
"You get her on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other Saturday", George listed, sounding like he was stating the facts of a custody agreement. Merlin. "And on Sundays, Holly's her own woman". I love these two brothers of mine. I love them more than I have ever loved anything or anyone else in both of my lives, but… they can be so embarrassing!
Before I could retort. Before I could tell all three boys that I was my own woman every day of the week, a shadow fell over all of us. "My! Miss Weasley sure is a popular young lady".
A chill ran up my spine as Fred tensed, and George's hold on me tightened even more. Adrian stepped closer and turned around so his back was facing us as he stood between my fellow triplets, me, and Lockhart. Today, Lockhart chose to wear glimmering blue robes with white trim. It matched well with the cold weather and his blonde hair. But it felt too innocent for what Fred, George, and I knew was lurking inside of him. Lockhart smiled at us like he was doing us a great favor by standing in the same vicinity. So, was he Lockhart right now? Or Riddle?
Flitwick's plan had worked. I hadn't talked to Lockhart since that incident in defense class and only saw him in the great hall or passing in the hallways when there were plenty of people around. Not that he hadn't tried to get me alone. Whenever I was out and about in the hallways or the grounds, I always felt like someone was haunting my steps and that eyes were always watching me. But I was never alone. I always made sure someone was around to witness if anything strange happened. "All ready to go home for the holidays?" Lockhart asked.
"Yes, Sir''. Adrian answered; his voice low in warning. Adrian's threat to go to the board of governors was still standing, as far as I knew. But from what I've been told, Lockhart hadn't used magic on another student in class since Adrian initially stood up to him. I don't know if that was because Adrian's threat was effective or if Dumbledore had done something to protect the students from Lockhart's teaching methods.
"Very good", Lockhart said. But he hardly looked at Adrian. Instead, he locked eyes with me. "I've missed having you in class, Miss Weasley. You missed a very exciting reenactment of the Christmas dinner I spent with hags. I had a part you would have been perfect for". My hand curled into a fist. Oh, I'm sure you did. "You switched out of my class to become a teacher's aide. Is that correct? That you have an interest in a career in education?"
"Yes, sir", I said; my voice coming out surprisingly steady. Though, Lockhart/Riddle wasn't that scary when I was standing at Hogsmeade station surrounded by my brothers and other members of staff.
"Why?" Lockhart asked.
Fred and George piped up before I could. "Oh, Holly's always liked kids", said Fred.
"And school", George tacked on.
"Can't get enough of either of them", they said together.
But Lockhart wasn't distracted. His eyes stayed on me, waiting for an answer. He was searching for something. That much was clear. But I couldn't figure out what. "Hogwarts is like a home to me", I said, deciding that, even though it was probably stupid, I'd feed Lockhart the story I knew about Riddle's young adult years. The part where he applied to Hogwarts as a teacher because the school was the only home he knew, and because he wanted to teach the dark arts to gain more followers. Surely, sixteen-year-old Riddle had started to have those thoughts. Or at least, I'm assuming. If I am wrong, then what I'm saying wouldn't make any sense. "I'd like to teach here in the future". And if I'm right, what I say will hopefully keep Lockhart's/Riddle's wheels spinning for a while. "Though I wish they taught the dark arts here".
Fred, George, and Adrian shot me looks that told me I would have to explain to them what I meant. But the worst look I got was from Lockhart. It wasn't an angry look or even a mean look. Lockhart's façade didn't even crack. His smile remained impeccable, though it did, for some creepy unknown reason, seem to become more genuine than fake. Something glinted in his blue eyes. Something that spoke of hunger and… was that pride? A second shiver traveled up my spine.
The train whistle blew and the other members of staff present started to hurriedly gesture for more students to board the train. I'm not sure why. I doubt the train would leave until one of the staff members gave the conductor the go-ahead. "You four should get on the train", our defense professor said; sounding less and less like Lockhart. George moved first. He unwrapped his arms from my middle and grabbed my hand. With Fred's arm still around my shoulders, George started to pull the both of us towards the train. Adrian came too; following close behind. I wish I was holding his hand too. "And merry Christmas", Lockhart called from behind us.