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TWELVE HOW TO RAISE HELL

(ALTERNATIVELY: HOW TO DEFY)

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       IT'S THE NIGHT before Christmas, and little lights brighten up their dorm room. It's past curfew but it's Christmas Eve, there's no way in hell that they're going to get into trouble for staying up late talking. Holly's migrated to Pansy's bed, resting her head on her best friend's shoulder as Tracey, Millicent, and Daphne share a bag of sweets.

       "I can't wait for tomorrow," says Daphne, grinning as she throws a jelly bean into her mouth. She winces, and she looks at the others. "It tasted of grass."

       "Lovely," says Holly, smiling softly. The clock on Daphne's bedside table is visible from where Holly's sitting, and she can see that it's fifteen minutes until Christmas Day. She can already feel giddy with anticipation for tomorrow. "And I mean, I know it's not a task, but it'll still look good if I look good at the ball — and Merlin, you guys."

       "Oh, dear," Pansy jokes, because she's seen the majority of Holly's stressing towards the ball. Immediately upon the arrival of her dress, a pretty white one, there was the realisation that she had to match with Harlow, and thus, Holly and Pansy sprinted from the hall to the dungeons in search of the boy.

       Since that, though, it's been smooth sailing. She knows what she's wearing, she knows what Harlow's wearing, and she knows that they can dance together, because she's insisted upon practicing. Everything seems to be falling into place — she even gained part of a friendship with Fleur, who asked her what she was wearing, since they're the two girl champions.

       Her friends, however, have been struggling, like the rest of the school, to find a partner to go with. For the most part they've latched onto their friends, like Pansy, who was asked by Draco a couple days after the announcement, and Pansy proceeded with a 'yeah, sure' and left in search of Holly, who she practically jumped onto as she announced her news. She's noticed, however, that not everyone's as lucky, since Holly's first choice was one of her best friends. She doesn't  fancy anyone. It's not like she's had to spend weeks finding the courage to ask.

       For example. She knows that Harry's been struggling to find a partner to go with, because of the amount of times she's walked into the common room and heard someone loudly scoff about how "Potter still can't get a date!" The last time she heard someone say that was yesterday, and although she would've loved to hit Montague around the head, she was standing next to Draco, who looked overjoyed at the fact that Potter was miserable.

       Holly, however, was not. She spoke to him earlier, when he and Ron were messing about in the library whilst Hermione finished some of the homework set. Apparently they're going with the Patil twins — Harry with Parvati, and Ron with Padma.

       "Oh," said Holly. "That's — nice."

       Susannah had started to cackle. Holly had to fight not to look up at glare at her, or tell her to piss off. But she managed to keep quiet, and she smiled politely at Harry.

       "Yeah," he said.

      Holly left a couple minutes after that, feeling incredibly awkward. She felt strange. She didn't know how to describe it, all she knows is that by the time she left the library and found her friends in the hall, she felt irritated. She still doesn't know why.

      "Didn't you say that Potter's finally found a partner?" says Pansy, snickering as she speaks. It took a lot of her strength not to grumble, or look annoyed in the slightest. She's still struggling with all of this, how her friends hate him so much. She thinks he's all right — but she's seen what they're like when they thought they were friends, she can't risk upsetting them.

      So Holly nods, forcing herself to smirk. "That's what I overheard in the library," she says. "Parvati Patil, I think?"

      "She's all right, I suppose," says Daphne. "Don't think I've ever spoken to her."

      "She's the one with the twin in Ravenclaw, right?" says Tracey.

      Pansy nods, and grins. "Yeah, her twin's going with Weasley," she says. She starts to giggle, and she turns her head to muffle her laughter in Holly's hair. "Do you — do you think he had to get Potter to arrange something?"

       Millicent and Daphne start to laugh a little, and Holly rolls her eyes, lightly nudging Pansy's arm. "Stop it!" says Holly, but she forces herself to laugh a little, to set the idea of oh, I think it's wrong to bitch about people, but also, isn't this funny, huh? "I'm sure Potter didn't ask on Weasley's behalf—"

      "I wouldn't be surprised," says Tracey, grinning.

      "Yeah," says Millicent, snorting as she laughs. Holly thinks it's cute. The conversation, not so much, but Millicent's laugh, yes. "You didn't see it, Hol, when he tried to ask out Fleur Delacour—"

       "Oh Merlin," says Daphne, and she bursts into laughter.

       Holly winces. She's glad the lights aren't the best, and her facial expression can't be seen much. "You guys!" she says. "We'll get into trouble if we talk loudly—!"

       "Oh, please," says Pansy. Holly catches Pansy's expression, and she can tell that Pansy's looking at her in a you adorable thing, thinking that way. "Snape's not going to check up on us. It's Christmas Eve. I bet most dorm rooms are a little rowdy..."

      "I mean," says Holly, grasping at a hopeless cause. All she wants is to find a way to take the conversation away from making fun of one of her friends. "You never know... Durmstrang was a little weird about it."

     She sees Daphne frown, sitting upright. "You've never properly told us about Durmstrang," she points out, and Holly thinks, for a reason. She's never going to forget the look on her dad's face, when she finally caved and told him what the school's actually like. "Is it — is it nice?"

       "No," says Holly immediately. "But, um — Karkaroff hates me, and you guys don't know how evil he truly is, so if I say anything it cannot go beyond this room, yeah?"

       "That's fine," says Pansy, and as she speaks, the other three move to all sit on Pansy's bed. They all look intrigued. Pansy and Holly scoot backwards, so there's more space to accommodate the extra three people perching on the single bed.

      "I don't really know how to start," says Holly.

      Tracey frowns. "What was Karkaroff like?"

      "Well, he used to be a Death Eater, and you can definitely tell," says Holly. She sees Susannah appear in the corner of the room, her ghostly glow creating an outline around her. Susannah looks concerned, like they're both back there, clinging onto any way to survive. "As soon as he became the headmaster everything changed. I never knew anything different, but the older girls used to say how it was a lot nicer. Before Karkaroff, apparently, the school was a little scared, I guess, about the Dark Arts, because of Grindelwald.

       "But Karkaroff's thing was ruling with intimidation. So there was this massive thing with students ratting out others — like, even if you joked about a certain teacher, there was a high chance of someone letting a teacher know, and then you'd be in detention. And Durmstrang's detentions are what nightmares are made of."

       "Did you ever have one?" says Daphne.

       "Once, at the end," says Holly. "But before that, I helped out at them."

       Millicent frowns. "You helped?"

       Holly nods, and she feels her stomach churn at the memory. "They treated detentions as a way for the best students to get extra practice. And since they put such an emphasis on the Dark Arts... Um, they — they'd make you practice the Unforgiveable Curses, because there, they're legal, so it was fine. And often the kids in detentions, they'd be first years, or second years, who still hadn't figured out the ins and outs of the school.

       "So you'd have these poor little children, who probably were late for a lesson because they got lost, and they'd have Cruciatus placed on them, or Imperius, and whilst they were in agony, the teacher conducting the teacher would praise the student practicing the curse on the little kid. The whole thing's sick.

       "But the thing is, though, the safest place to be at Durmstrang is at the top of the class. The teachers are a little nicer, because they think you're smart and this wonderful thing thanks to the education you've received at Durmstrang. So, if you want to get through the school terms there, you've got to be at the top of the class, because it's either that, or you're going to be in detention, cursed to feel pain."

       Pansy looks worried. Now that Holly's taken her head off of her shoulder, Pansy's reached forwards and has her hand placed lightly on Holly's forearm, trying to be comforting. Which makes sense, since Holly's voice has gone incredibly steady. If she doesn't go completely emotionless, she'll probably burst into tears. That's what happened when she told her dad.

       "Surely, though," says Pansy. "Not everyone was a snitch, right?"

       "The higher you go up, the less it happens," says Holly. "But the easiest way, when you're a first year, to make the teachers like you is to tell them if you overhear someone complain about the workload, or something. Often the teachers reward you... What often happened is that you'd tell a couple teachers that hey, this random kid in your year called one teacher a bitch, and then you'd progress in your lessons, and then, you'd get asked to help out in detentions.

       "If you helped out in detentions, you were in. Like, no kid can touch you, because the teachers like you. To an extent. Often people would draw Grindelwald's symbol in bathroom mirrors, or textbooks — and there were a ton of students with relatives that died because of him, and if they were at the top of their class, they could get away with, um, revenge. The teachers would see them cursing the student that drew the symbol, and they'd praise them for excellent spell-work, or something.

      "But there was some loyalty, I suppose. A lot of the girls looked out for each other. I don't know why, but that was always the case. In my second year, when I was helping out at one of the detentions, one of the older girls showed me where they hid the first-aid kits, in case I ever saw another student with a blood quill mark on their hand."

       "What's a blood quill?"

       "They sometimes use them in detentions, depending on what the teacher fancies," says Holly. "But basically, you write with the quill, and it takes your blood to use instead of ink. And you're left with this horrible scab on your hand, and the more detentions you get, the deeper and the darker it gets."

      Holly pulls the sleeve of her sweater up, to show her right hand. The scar from last summer can still be seen faintly — I must not defy.

       "What did you do?" says Pansy, looking both shocked and disgusted. She partly looks like she's going to cry, which worries Holly.

       "Well," says Holly, and she gives a little laugh, because shit, was this a story. "At the end of the last year, I sort-of snapped? I was helping out at this detention on the last day before summer, and Karkaroff was watching over it, because the people helping out were the ones that had gotten close to full-marks on their exams. So I was there, and I was told to do Cruciatus on this little first year — and right, this girl, this poor girl, she had been in countless detentions, and I overheard her crying in the library the day before and one of the older girls comforting her. And I couldn't do it.

       "I refused. I shook my head and I remember how quickly both Karkaroff and the Dark Arts professor came to see the situation, and when I said how I couldn't do it, and I wouldn't, the Dark Arts professor looked at me, and leaned in, with this ugly smug sneer, and he said, 'Do you not have the stomach for this, Miss Lippincott?'

       "I haven't told you this but that was the thing — he said it so much to patronise me, and obviously it worked as motivation, because normally afterwards I became so angry that I wanted to prove him wrong, and I'd do exactly what curse or hex he wanted me to practice.

      "But instead, I didn't curse the girl. I raised my wand at him, and told him, 'If you tell me to hurt her one more time, I'll curse you instead.' You could practically see the steam come out of his ears, and Karkaroff's face went bright red with fury, and he tried to force me to do it as punishment. Which is funny, really, because they spent so much time making sure that we could resist Imperius — and yet, when they tried to cast it on me, they were shocked when I resisted it.

       "So I was grabbed by the collar and shoved into some teacher's office and told to write with a blood quill, I must not defy. They had no idea what to do with me, because they couldn't force me to do it, could they?

       "But after that — I must not defy? Who cares if I defy some nightmarish man that's forcing children to torture others? There was barely a morning left of the term and after that detention, I thought, what's the point? I didn't care if I never attended any school again, I just knew that I was not going to return the following September. So, I — I rebelled.

      "I managed, over the years, to become friends with some of the school ghosts — it was especially helpful, because they could find out where the teachers frequented at certain times, and such — and I talked them into wreaking havoc. And the teachers couldn't do anything, could they, because by the time all hell started to break loose, I was on my back to London and I was never going to see them again... Of course, I left a lovely little card for Karkaroff, which I left empty, and simply signed from myself. I mean, I wasn't going to keep quiet that I was the one that raised hell! Who would do that?"

      Holly laughs, and Pansy lets out a laugh of disbelief.

      "Shit, Holly!" says Pansy. "I can't blame you!"

      Holly knows that she's barely scratched the surface with tales of Durmstrang, but a lot of the others not only make her feel sick to her stomach, but she knows that she wasn't the person in the right. Durmstrang's the type of place that forces you to choose safety over morality — either you're a little evil of you don't get through the term, plain and simple.

      "I can't believe they use the curses in detentions," says Daphne, her lips twisting in disgust. Holly grimaces, and nods in agreement. It's monstrous. "And those blood-quills... You've still got the mark, Hol."

       "It's sick," says Millicent.

       Holly nods grimly. "But then," she says, frowning. "I prefer having this on my hand, and not another memory of those detentions."

       "You can't even call them detentions," says Tracey. She, like the others, looked a little disgusted, and a little shocked. "They sound more like nightmares."

       "You know halfway through last year they kicked me off the Quidditch team?" says Holly. She sees Susannah in the corner of her eye look incredibly disappointed, because yeah, this tale isn't as terrible as the final detention, but it angers her to this day. "They thought they'd improve the quality, or something, of the Quidditch teams if the players were all big and strong. But before that, I was on my house's team — they have houses there, but it's mostly so that there can be multiple teams to compete, and to split the years into classes — and, not to brag, but I was a good Chaser! Even Viktor Krum, Viktor Krum, said that I was good, and that I'd probably be able to become the captain when I got a little older.

      "And then, you know what they do? They kick me off the team!"

      Holly shakes her head, looking bitter. She is bitter.  

      "Karkaroff sounds like a dick," says Tracey, frowning.

       "He is," says Holly.

       "Biggest understatement of the year," says Susannah, looking unimpressed. She floats further up into the air, and Holly watches the ghostly outline dissolve into the air. She lets out a sigh, and decides to retire back to her bed.

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       CHRISTMAS MORNING IS PROVING to be eventful, what with the amount of students giddy because of the snow and the holiday. The tree in the common room's decorated in pretty silver decorations, since the tree's already a dark shade of green. Holly, around seven, was awoken by her friends, who were al grinning with excitement.

       They opened their presents together; the girls had agreed to buy joint presents for each other, and the others had all pitched in to buy Holly a pretty bracelet, a silver snake that coils around the wrist. To show some house pride at the ball, the tag attached read, along with their names and a winking smiley face.

       Her dad had sent his presents, too, but the couple she figured to be books were hidden and opened a little later, in case her friends realised that they were muggle books. The highlight of his was the letter attached to them:

       Holly,

       He said yes! 

       Dad x

       The short, but sweet, letter resulted in Holly jumping to her feet and hugging Pansy excitedly, loudly exclaiming for everyone to hear, "My dad's getting married!"

       And, even if she's spending Christmas Day without her dad for the first time, she's enjoying it so far. All of her friends are acting like they're on cloud nine — they've all been able to mess about for the whole day, without having to worry about scheduling time to finish a Potions essay or questions for Divination. For breakfast they all ate a hearty meal of chocolate frogs, which Holly thought was a premonition for the rest of the day, considering at home, breakfast on Christmas Day was a gingerbread house.

       Around five, Holly sadly left her friends, laughing and enjoying themselves in the common room, to start getting ready. Pansy, Daphne, Tracey, and Millicent arrived in their dorm room about an hour later, after Holly had washed and dried and straightened her hair, using the opportunity of an empty room to pull out her muggle hair straighteners.

      It's ten-to-eight. Holly and Harlow finally decide to leave the common room, after Holly pulled him to the side, as the others began to leave fifteen minutes before. "Woah, woah, woah!" she had said, pulling him by the sleeve of his robe. "We need a big reveal when we walk in! Not just waiting around... No, no, no, people will be looking around for the champions as they wait, and they'll be like, oh, where's Holly? So when they finally see me—"

       "Yeah, yeah," Harlow had said. "I know what you mean."

       They arrive at the hall as everyone else has been let in. Holly, a small smile on her face, links her arm with Harlow's. "Thank you for coming with me, by the way," she says, before they reach the other champions and their partners. "I really appreciate it."

       "I can't blame you, I'm the handsomest out of our friends," says Harlow, grinning. Holly smiles up at him. "And if this makes you look good, that'll help you with the tournament. And shit, Hol, I know we've all been saying it, but it would be amazing if Slytherin could win."

       "And they're going to," says Holly, nudging his arm with hers.

       They walk up to the other champions. Immediately Holly's gaze goes onto Hermione, who's standing next to Viktor. Hermione looks back at her, and Holly smiles at her. "You look really pretty, Hermione!" says Holly, fully aware of the surprise on Harlow's face. She looks up at him, and raises an eyebrow, looking a little devious. "She does, doesn't she?"

       "Um, yes," says Harlow.

       "Thanks," says Hermione, smiling.

      The doors open and the five champions move in line with their partners, to walk in one at a time. Holly makes sure that she and Harlow at the last to walk in, and as they dart to the back, Harlow whispers, "What was that?"

       "Being polite," says Holly. She straightens her posture, and glances at Harlow. "I'll explain it later, but it doesn't matter — for now, we're going to look our damned best and show these losers what a real champion looks like."

      Harlow looks down at her, and nods, smirking slightly. They finally walk into the hall, and she glances over where their friends are sitting. Holly and Pansy grin at each other as she passes their table.

       They sit down at the table with the other champions, the teachers, and the judges. Bagman almost says hello to Holly but she moves past before she can, forcefully steering Harlow clear out of the way of him. Eventually they end up sitting close to Viktor and Hermione, and very quickly Holly realises that they're also close to Karkaroff. She makes an effort to not look in that direction of the table, and instead, just at Harlow.

       "Do you think Skeeter's lurking anywhere, then?" says Harlow, as they go to sit down. Holly looks up at him grimly, because she certainly hopes not, but, with the current events, she most likely is somewhere, hiding in a broom closet with a glass against the door, trying to listen into conversations. "Next thing you know they'll be saying in the papers, is Holly Lippincott supporting the Death Eaters? Last night she brought the son of two to the ball..."

       "Your parents—?"

       Harlow nods. "I live with my uncle, now," he says. "They were killed."

       "Oh," says Holly. She doesn't quite know how to respond to this. She knows how stupid it feels when someone tries to comfort her, when she mentions how she's never really met her mother, so she just frowns. "That's shit."

       "I know," says Harlow, and he nods. "So's everything with your mum."

       "Yeah," says Holly. She narrows her eyes and leans closer to him, to talk a little quieter. "Did your parents know her?"

       "I can ask my uncle," says Harlow.

       Holly smiles gratefully. "You're a godsend." 

       "Well, we have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," she hears Viktor say, a couple minutes later. Holly goes stiff, pausing from eating her vegetables. "We have just four floors, and the fire are lit only for magical purposes. But we have grounds larger even than these — though in winter, we have very little daylight, so we are not enjoying them." Yeah, but still being forced into them. "But in summer we are flying every day, over the lakes and the  mountains—"

      "Now, now, Viktor!" says Karkaroff. Holly narrows her eyes and looks over in that direction of the table, being careful not to make eye contact with her old headmaster. "Don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

       Holly gets an idea.

       "Disastrous," says Holly, and she smiles at him, resting her head in her hand so that the fading scar's in sight. Karkaroff doesn't look happy — but come on. She couldn't help it. He can't do anything, not here, and he's already being biased as a judge. And, really, she's already in the lead, she doesn't need him to win.

       "Igor," says Dumbledore. "All this secrecy... One would almost think you didn't want visitors."

       "Well, Dumbledore," says Karkaroff, an incredibly ugly smile on his face. "We are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"

       Harlow leans closer to Holly. "Was he always this much of a prat?"

      "This is him being friendly," says Holly. "You haven't seen the real him."

       Harlow, she realises as she glances at her, looks worried, because obviously his mind's gone to the worst scenario possible. "How bad—?"

      "I'll tell you later, but," she pauses, and she moves his hand closer to him, to show the remains of the scar. It's mostly healed now, and she knows that, but it's still there. Her handwriting is still etched into her hand, a pink colour a little darker than her skin, making out the words. I must not defy.

      "Oh," says Harlow. "That's shit."

      Holly snorts.

—✧—✧—✧—✧—

      FOR SOMEONE WHO only learnt of the Weird Sisters a week ago, Holly's managing to dance along to their music.

      Harlow's question of "didn't you listen to the radio growing up?" gives Holly the clear impression that if she had been brought up by a wizard, she would recognise the songs. Durmstrang was too strict to allow music, and whoever commands the common room's gramophone has a tendency of lying to the other students that Bowie's actually a wizard, it's just that he isn't that popular.

      "The American wizard music's different," she had quickly made up.

       But she supposes they're good. A little Alice Cooper, but that's not a bad thing. It's the sort of music her dad plays when he's cleaning the house, or cooking. Far too aggressive for the task but amusing to watch, when she passes by a room he's vacuuming and spots him trying to head-bang and hoover up the dog hair.

       "Oh, look, there's trouble amongst the Gryffindors," says Harlow, nodding towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione. By the looks of things Ron and Hermione seem to be shouting at each other, but from where they're standing, it's inaudible over the music. Holly exchanges a glance with Harry for a minute, but before she can return a smile, or anything, she spots Karkarof leaving the hall, a couple metres behind Snape.

      She glances at Harlow, and asks, "Wasn't Snape a Death Eater?"

       "Yeah — why—?"

       "I'll be back in a second," says Holly, and she slips through the crowd, making her way towards the entrance hall. She doesn't bother holding onto her necklace; she wants to see this for herself, if it's anything to do with Karkaroff being just as evil as before. Plus, she knows that Susannah will only distract her, if she does appear.

      Holly darts into the entrance hall, the cool air hitting her instantly. She spots Karkaroff turn a corner and she hurries in that direction, making sure she's as silent as possible, which proves to be difficult in heels. But, she manages, and she stops at the corner. She peers around and spots them talking, halfway down the hallway, and she spots an alcove close to the corner she's standing next to, so she dips into it.

       "I don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor," she hears Snape say, in his usual monotone voice. Holly's brows furrow. What's gotten Karkaroff's knickers in a twist? The only thing she's seen him get concerned about is this tournament, and even then, that's more resentful than concerned, what with Hogwarts having two extra champions.

      "Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" says Karkaroff, his voice quieter than usual. Holly's used to him speaking loudly, with pride, showing off his power. Not this. Not someone talking in a hushed tone, and quicker than usual, as if ­— as if he's panicking? "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it—"

       "Then flee," says Snape. He sounds unimpressed. "Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

       Snape passes the alcove Holly's standing in; she stands closer to the wall, and he passes without noticing her. She takes a minute to think, but before she can choose to slip out or stay hidden until her old headmaster's in the way, she's grabbed by the arm. Karkaroff looks down at her, furious.

       Holly winces, snatching her arm out of his grip. "Hey, sir..."

       "You've gotten worse, I see," says Karkaroff, close to snarling. Holly shrugs, because in her mind she knows — he can't do anything. This isn't his school. He can't send her to detention, make her use a blood-quill. He can't mention this, because she'll be quick to mention the interesting information she overheard.

       Holly steps backwards. She knows that she has the upper-hand, but still. She's still the slightest bit scared of him. "I'm aware, sir," she says. Politely rude. "I also hear that things are getting clearer...?"

       He steps closer, and she moves backwards. "If you dare—"

       "Why?" says Holly, pulling on a frown. She moves her finger to her lips, in mock concern. "Would it be an issue, if someone were to find out? Maybe I should ask Dumbledore, see what his opinion on the matter is—"

       Karkaroff goes still. "What do you want?"

      "Full marks," she says. "In every task... It's clearly evident that you're already judging on a bias, so, instead, you're going to give me full marks in the remaining tasks — or else, who knows? Someone might let it slip, near Dumbledore, that something is getting far clearer, and that it's so terrible that you're considering fleeing..." She sees the look on his face, a mixture of panic and anger. If he wasn't so worried he'd be trying to kill her, she knows this.

       So she smiles. "Disastrous, yeah?"

       "Fine," says Karkaroff. He pauses for a second, and he looks like he's trying his hardest not to curse her, or something, like he would punish the students at Durmstrang. But he can't, can he? He knows this. She knows this. And so she smiles. "Get out of my sight."

       "Clearly, sir, you shouldn't be ordering me around," says Holly. She grins maliciously. "But sure, I'll leave you it. Have a merry Christmas!"

       And so, she walks away. The possibility of what he was saying, about something getting clearer and clearer, sits in the back of her mind. But what can she do about it? For now, her concern has to stick onto the tournament, onto winning, onto getting glory for herself and for Slytherin. She cannot let it slip for something it might mean...

       As she gets back into the hall, she's greeted by Pansy, who puts her arm around Holly. Holly hugs her back, her smile growing into a bright grin. "I've got news, Pans," she says.

       I've got news. It quickly becomes a promise, for when they return to their dorm room and the two sneak off into the girls' toilets, and Holly whispers what happened to Pansy, after making her swear she won't tell a soul.

       The next day, it's the thing Pansy says, as she passes Holly a copy of the Prophet.

THE SLYTHERIN PRINCESS STUNS

       Last night, at the Yule Ball, Hogwarts champion Holliday Lippincott...

      Holly looks at Pansy, and they both grin.

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