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THREE PROTECT FROM HARM

(O SERPENT HEART!)

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       FLO MONTAGUE likes to think she's a little catastrophic.

       As the daughter of two well-known Ministry officials, and rumoured Death Eaters, she sometimes wonders if she's like this because she's always been around catalysts. Her parents never admit it, but they helped kill a muggle family back in the last war. They returned home with grins when Amelia Bones was pronounced dead — the same happened a couple hours ago, when they appeared in the kitchen and said that Karkaroff's been killed. She doesn't ask how they know. She never does.

       But she's catastrophic in her own way, she knows it. The amount of times she's heard other Quidditch teams whisper their tactics in the library, and she's overheard and gone straight to her brother, a little smirk plastered across her face. I know how we can win. It's funny, the amount of times the other Quidditch teams discuss important ideas in her turf, her areas of the school. Flo Montague lives in the library, and they think it's wise to talk about how to beat Slytherin in there? Idiots!

       So she lies on her bed, her brows furrowed and her eyes locked on the ceiling. When she's older she wants to have paintings on the ceilings, not exactly the renaissance stuff she's snuck a look at when her parents weren't watching, but something a little darker, a little cooler. At the end of the last school year Lippincott — who apparently loves muggles now she's going out with Potter — told her that she'd like this muggle band called Aerosmith. Flo doesn't want to get involved with muggles, her parents would kill her.

       But anyway. Her parents are having one of their fancy dinner parties (well, lunch, it's half-twelve) with another Pureblood family. Flo forgot to ask which one, so when she walks downstairs she'll just smile and nod until she figures out what family it is. Her brother's gotten out of this, which is irritating. Apparently his fancy new job at Gringotts is more important than lunch... Which she agrees with, but still. Now Flo's got to deal with a batch of snarky children on her own. At least when her brother was here, he scared them away.

       Flo's relationship with her brother is strange. Because she acknowledges that he is an absolute dickhead, but also, he's her brother, so she doesn't really hate him, but he gets on her nerves at least fifty times a day. Six hundred and eighty on Quidditch-match days.

       There's a knock at the door. Before Flo can make an excuse and buy herself another half an hour before she has to greet whichever guests her parents have invited this week, the door opens. Her mother, a rather short woman called Edith, walks into the room. She does not smile. Flo doesn't think her mother's smiled since she was born.

       "Florence," says Edith.

       "Flo," she corrects.

       "Florence," says Edith again, completely ignoring Flo. She always does, to be fair, every time Flo points out that she hates her full name. She doesn't like the sound of Florence. Her father, a man called Ernest, used to tell her, but Florence is the name of a grand city, a place where history was made. Don't you want to make history too? Flo does not. She wants to read books and then die. Maybe she'll get a girlfriend. She isn't sure right now.

       Flo snorts.

       "We have company," says Edith. "Some children you may know, they're in the year below you." Flo looks at her mother, sighs, and shakes her head, and Edith grimaces. "Josephine Crabbe and Genevieve Goyle are here with their sons..." Well that's exciting! Now Flo's going to spend the afternoon hearing Crabbe and Goyle's wet dreams about Malfoy, which is something she never wants to hear. "Oh, and the Parkinsons are arriving in a little while..."

       Oh.

       OH.

       Flo can already feel butterflies in her stomach.

✧

       HERE'S THE THING — Flo Montague does not know how she feels about Pansy Parkinson. She doesn't think she's spent enough time outside of the library to get a full understanding of what she thinks about Parkinson. She's seen her enough times to know that she's very pretty (very very very pretty) and she's seen her lurking near the Quidditch practice enough times to decipher that Parkinson's incredibly loyal to her best friend, Lippincott, but also, has some strange thing with Malfoy. Which Flo still doesn't get.

       Flo's also got an inkling that Parkinson isn't the nicest, especially to people outside of Slytherin. She thinks she gathered this a couple years ago during the Triwizard Tournament, when Lippincott was their house's surprise champion and everyone took to supporting their chance for glory. Parkinson especially took part in this, declaring to the rest of the school and its visitors how her best friend would be holding the cup at the end of the tournament, that her best friend would be the one finally making Slytherin victorious.

       The same girl that quit the Quidditch team after a month, but it's not like Flo's annoyed about that at all. Obviously there were other things on Lippincott's mind (in the common room at the end of the year, someone said this, and someone else remarked, "Yeah, shagging Potter," and within seconds Malfoy had his two monkeys beating the boy) but still. She quit the team, right before they could win anything. And it was annoying, because she was pretty good, and the tournament showed she had the drive to win, it was just that she made a disappearing act a month in.

       But, like she said, it's not like she's annoyed, or anything.

       Back to Parkinson. Flo does not know whether or not she likes her. Because here's the thing — Flo has a good idea that Parkinson's a little like Malfoy in the terrorising children aspect, but also, the way she cried at the end of last year shows that she has some human emotion. Flo has a feeling that Parkinson means well, but alas, the children of purebloods tend to struggle with growing up and recognising what their parents told them was wrong.

       So Flo would like to give Parkinson the benefit of the doubt. But, then, Flo wonders if this is partly because she finds Parkinson rather pretty. She doesn't know. All she knows is that she's going to spend the following hours with the girl, along with Malfoy's monkeys. (Kill her now.)

       She stays in her bedroom, though, until the last remaining second. Flo doesn't mind awkward small-talk with Parkinson, but she thinks she's rather die than listen to Crabbe and Goyle speak. If they do speak. Do they even have brains? Sometimes Flo wonders if their brute strength is enough to push out a couple grunts every so often. So here she is, still in her bedroom, hoping she'll be able to stay upstairs until dinner's ready.

      But then there's a knock at the door, and Flo realises that she's never that lucky.

      Before she can open the door herself, the door swings open, and Parkinson looks at Flo. Parkinson's dressed up for this strange dinner party, and Flo notes that she's wearing enough black that she looks like she's on her way to a funeral. Flo, however, is half-ready, wearing one of those 'tailored' skirts her mother bought (how can you tailor a skirt? They're just fabric wrapped around a waist, what?) but her t-shirt from earlier's still on. She was planning to wait until the latest moment possible to change into something nicer. But oh, well. The jig is up, a guest has seen her hideous wizard rock tee, they now know that Flo doesn't want them over. Oh, no.

      "Hello," says Parkinson, speaking shortly.

      "Hi," says Flo, and she nods.

      "Your mother said you'd be upstairs still," says Parkinson, and again, without mentioning it, welcomes herself into the room, and takes a seat at the foot of Flo's bed. Flo raises her eyebrows at Parkinson, who looks breathless and the slightest bit annoyed. Parkinson looks up at her, and sighs. "Crabbe and Goyle were pissing me off."

       Flo puts a hand on her heart. "They were never."

       Parkinson gives her a look. "They just kept on talking about Malfoy, how he's been writing to them and telling them that he's got this grand task to do for the Dark Lord, and, I don't know," she says. Flo frowns at her, but Parkinson does not seem keen to elaborate. Instead, she looks up at Flo again, watching her with slight distaste. "Holly was at the Ministry when Karkaroff was killed."

       So that's what she's actually thinking about. Right.

       "She was there, she must've been, it was her first day today as the British Youth representative so she must've been in the courtroom when he was killed... Apparently Death Eaters did it, but they're not sure, they don't even know who did it, their face was covered completely..."

       "Spooky," says Flo.

       Parkinson, unsurprisingly, glares at her.

       "You don't care, I get it," says Parkinson. "Obviously you're above friendships, or else you wouldn't spend your entire life in the library."

       "I — how do you know that?"

       "Your brother's mentioned," says Parkinson, after a pause. She stands back up, her eyes still sending daggers in the direction of Flo, who's incredibly confused. She thinks she's a little pleased that Parkinson knows where she is, but also, she's a little surprised. This girl walks in here, upset, and ten seconds later, she's having a go at her? What?

       Flo stands up, as well, about to cross the room and open the door.

       "It's a little hypocritical, Parkinson, that you're looking down on me for being a lone wolf," says Flo. Lone wolf. That sort-of just jumped out of her mouth, but that's the perfect way to describe herself. She's a lone wolf. That sounds wicked. "You say I'm against friendships, but aren't you pushing me away?"

       Parkinson frowns at her. From her track record, she's probably thinking about something Lippincott said to her. That's normally what she's thinking about — it's the same with Lippincott. Every five minutes she'll say something about what Parkinson said, back when she was on the Quidditch team. Maybe they mention each other when the other's not around to mentally project them into the room.

       Having a best friend sounds weird. Flo's glad she opted out.

       "Crabbe and Goyle are also here," says Parkinson finally.

       Flo snorts. "Oh, wow."

       "I was just letting you know," says Parkinson, grimacing. She pauses for a minute, before she adds, "It wouldn't kill you to be nice."

       "Or would it?" says Flo.

       It wouldn't kill you to be nice... Or would it?

       Would it be disastrous if Flo stepped out of the library, every so often? Would it be disastrous if Flo had one or two friends, people she could complain to her parents about, instead of putting a wall between herself and the world and making herself not care about all of it? Would it be disastrous if Flo actually listened to what this girl is saying, to maybe talk to someone other than Madam Pince on the weekends?

       Would it?

       Parkinson closes the door behind her, obviously choosing Malfoy's monkeys over Flo. She isn't quite sure how she feels about that. Because, on the one hand, she doesn't think she cares that much about Parkinson's image of herself (she thinks she's pretty, yeah, but that doesn't mean anything) but then, how can she be worse than Crabbe and Goyle? What does that say about her, that someone is willing to spend time with Crabbe and Goyle if it means they don't have to speak to her? That's nearing on pathetic.

       It wouldn't kill you to be nice...

       Flo grumbles, and lies back down on her bed.

       This is a mess.

✧

       THIS IS A MESS — everything from the way she can't stop missing the Burrow, to how terribly Buttercup the House-Elf made hot chocolate this morning. And OK, don't think for one second that Holly doesn't like Buttercup, because Holly's known Buttercup for literally two weeks and already she would protect her with her entire life. She's one of the sweetest people Holly's ever met. She can't make hot chocolate, though, which is normally endearing but Holly's getting stressed out and no hot chocolate will compare to the kind her dad makes. Made. Fuck.

       Now, she sits with her hands folded on her lap, her gaze fixed on an area of the wooden floor in her bedroom. Her right arm feels tainted, poisoned, like the memory of what happened had carved a scar into her skin. Maybe she'll never be able to escape this; maybe this one decision will be the one that she regrets the most, thinks to herself in thirty years' time, why on earth did I do that?

       "The Unbreakable Vow," her aunt Narcissa had said, as Holly and Draco looked at each other, both a little confused. Holly was also the slightest bit scared. She can't comment on her cousin for how he felt. "It will help keep both of you safe, and I think we can all agree that the following  year is going to be dangerous, for both of you."

       Holly looked at Draco, and Draco looked at Holly, as if both were trying to decipher the other's expression to figure out if they knew about this or not. Considering the surprise on Draco's face, Holly decided both of them didn't know about this. The only people that did were the grown-ups standing in the room — Narcissa, Margo, Atticus, and Bellatrix. However, Atticus stood up halfway through, sulking, and walked out.

       But Holly didn't think about her step-father, as her mother began to explain how this would not be dangerous at all, that this would just be a way to ensure that both Holly and Draco would be looking out for each other in the upcoming school year. Her mother kept on casting looks at Holly, like she was trying to will Holly to agree to this. Holly could feel her stomach tying into knots. She already annoyed her mother earlier, at the Burrow.

       "So — so what do we do?" asked Holly, once her mother had finished explaining the whole thing. Her throat felt dry as she spoke, and she didn't exactly want to do this. The only reason she was going along with it, really, was because she didn't want to know how this would turn out if she refused.

       And then, they're told how the Unbreakable Vow is done. Holly and Draco held hands and Bellatrix, her eyes wide with astonishment, placed the tip of her wand onto both of their hands. Holly looked at her cousin the whole time, whilst he kept on glancing around, looking away. As if he had something to be wary about... Weird.

       But the words were said and lines made of flames coiled around their forearms, as they agreed to protect the other. Holly, in the corner of her eye, could see her mother pacing around the room, watching with intrigue. Narcissa didn't move at all, simply watched her son, worried.

       "And will you, Holliday, protect Draco from harm?"

       "I will."

       And now Holly sits in her room. Ten minutes ago she made that promise — protect from harm — and as soon as it was over, Holly excused herself, running up the stairs and closing her bedroom door behind her. She hates this, all of this. She knows that she only agreed quickly because she had already pissed off her mother, she didn't know what would happen if she refused in front of Bellatrix and Narcissa. And she supposes this could be a good thing. She can protect her cousin, that's a good thing, surely? Last year they pinky-promised to look out for each other, this is just a more extreme version of that... Where she could die... Shit.

       There's a knock at the door, and before she can get up and open it, Draco walks in. He looks paler than usual, she thinks. He also looks like he's given up sleeping, what with the purple under his eyes. Holly frowns.

       "That was strange, wasn't it?" she says.

       Draco goes still. Holly doesn't notice.

       "I mean, why would they make us promise that?" she continues, her brows furrowed as she looks around her room. She begins to pace, from one side to the other. She passes the fireplace in her room, the one connected to the Floo Network. Apparently it's the only fireplace in the house still connected. Anyway... "We've only got school, haven't we? Why would they make us use the Unbreakable Vow to promise that?"

       There's a pause, in which Draco avoids looking at her directly. "I don't know," he says finally, and he still does not look her in the eye. Holly lets out a sigh, discarding this. "I didn't think they'd actually do that, though..."

       Holly frowns at him. What does that mean?

       Draco turns to her. "What did you say?"

       "I didn't say anything," says Holly.

       "Yes, you did," says Draco, frowning at her. Holly scowls back at him. She said nothing. She thought — "You said, 'What does that mean?'"

       Holly frowns. That makes no sense. She thought that, she knows that she thought that, she isn't going to get muddled up with what she's thought and what she's said...

       Oh, shit.

       "Draco," says Holly, and she looks at him in slight confusion. "I thought that — I'm not finished, don't bother arguing back." Draco gives her a look. Holly ignores it. "If you heard what I thought, do you think, maybe, that this Unbreakable Vow means we have some sort of connection? Like, through Legilimency?"

       "That makes no sense," says Draco. "Why would the Unbreakable—?"

       Holly thinks, Can you hear this?

       Draco looks at her, his eyes widening. By the look of shock on his face, Holly figures that he did hear her, and that he's struggling to comprehend that. Which she understands, because this makes no sense to her, too. Can she hear all of his thoughts? She doesn't think she wants to hear all of them. God, nor does she think he'll want to hear how she thinks about Harry... Or this whole Voldemort situation... Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no.

       "You try it," she says.

       There's a pause. His brows furrow as he concentrates, but Holly doesn't hear anything but her own thoughts. Finally he looks at her, exasperated, and asks, "Did you hear any of that?"

       She shakes her head.

       "The first time, it worked because I was directing it towards you?" she suggests, raising her eyebrows manically. This makes no sense whatsoever. But, the fact that this Legilimency is selective is a relief. She doesn't think she wants to hear the thoughts of a teenage boy at all hours of the day.

       "Right, so," says Draco, and he looks at her. What about this?

       Holly mouth drops in shock. When she was the one directing the thoughts, she didn't realise how strange it felt, to hear someone else's voice inside your own head. She doesn't think she likes it, not at all. It's a bizarre feeling, like you can hear someone talking but they're not, you're hearing them speak inside your own mind.

       I don't think I like this, she thinks.

       I guess we'll get used to it, he replies. I suppose we can now speak whilst in Snape's lessons without getting caught.

       Holly snorts.

       "At least the real problems are getting sorted," she says.

       Draco smiles at her.

       The door to Holly's bedroom opens again, only this time, it's her mother. Draco's small smile leaves his face, as does Holly's, as Margo walks into the room. Her mother has this ability, of drawing all of the attention onto her, when she enters a new room. Holly supposes that, when she was younger, this was a nice thing, but now, after years of change, from the girl in the diary to her mother, it emphasises that she's here. That she's sacrificed so much, that she's such a strong fighter, that she's forever damaged by the last war and by Azkaban.

       "Draco, could I have a private word with my daughter?" says Margo, and she looks at Draco in such a way that suggested he had no choice in the matter. He was going to leave, whether he liked it or not.

       Tell me what she says, says Draco.

       Pinky-promise, says Holly.

       The door closes behind her cousin, and as the door clicks shut, her mother moves across the room, to sit on Holly's bed. She pats the area next to her, gesturing for Holly to sit next to her. Slowly, Holly crosses the room, sitting down beside her mother.

       She hates her bedroom here. The one at Grimmauld Place still felt like hers, even if she hated the circumstances that led to her staying there. She could still have her massive fabric poster of Cher up on the wall, pitch-back with a bright pink halo around her curly hair. Or the shoe-box she kept under her bed, with the four Barbie dolls she refuses to throw out (two Audrey Hepburn ones, one from Roman Holiday with a shirt and a-line skirt and the other from Breakfast at Tiffanys, duh, then one of Marilyn Monroe in a gold sparkly dress, and another in a dogtooth suit) tucked inside. Or even the jewellery box from when she was little, with plastic necklaces and friendship bracelets sitting between old Barbie shoes that got misplaced some time ago.

       Holly could take those things with her, because who would care about a poster for a muggle pop star? Who would care about a shoebox under the bed, with her nine-year-old self's handwriting saying 'THIS BELONGS TO HOLLY!' with little stars and hearts drawn all around it? Who would care about children's jewellery still being held onto, just because? No one would care, because it wouldn't cross anyone's mind. Sure, they were all obviously from the muggle world, but that wouldn't be an issue. If anything, the Barbie wearing the suit would probably just cause her dad and Mr Weasley to discuss how Gus went to extreme lengths to find a Sinatra Barbie doll, or the different items of pop culture her remaining Barbie dolls were inspired by.

       (She doesn't know why she kept them, really. Apparently it's only a muggle thing to hold onto toys from childhood — she's asked her friends if there's are in the attic, or something, and they've all frowned and said they were thrown out once they went to Hogwarts. Which she thinks is bizarre... But, then, also, her children are going to be so cool with their vintage Barbie dolls, so who's the real winner here?)

       (Anyway. Back to the nightmarish world she currently lives in, the sort that's worthy of an Alice Cooper music video.)

       She can't take that stuff here, someone would somehow smell out the fact that they're muggle objects and they'd figure out the rest. That Holly's dad isn't a wizard, but a muggle. That Holly didn't really know about magic until she was eleven. If anyone saw anything remotely related to the massive secret surrounding her childhood, she'd be dead. Then they'd hunt down her dad — they'd find him somehow — and he'd be killed instantly... Her stomach jolts at the idea, and she tries to focus on her mother instead.

       "I recognise that I wasn't the nicest today," says Margo, and she lets out a sigh. She takes a hold of Holly's hand, who frowns back at her, and slowly moves her hand away. "Oh."

       "You haven't been nice ever since the start of the summer holidays," says Holly.

       Her heart's beating faster. She can do this, she can do this. "Stand up for yourself!" she can hear Susannah shout from the other side of the room. Susannah gives a nasty look towards Margo, who looks incredibly confused at what Holly's just said.

       "The way you treated the Weasleys earlier," says Holly. "It was horrible. I thought you were against all of this, I thought it was just pretend — you can let your guard down with them, they're some of the kindest, most amazing people I've ever met, and Mrs Weasley—"

       "I must be careful, Holliday," says Margo quickly, before Holly can say much she adores Mrs Weasley. Holly's brows furrow, and her mother looks away. "I've been able to tell the Dark Lord that you're pretending, you're safe to act how you want. But I can't, Holliday. It's too dangerous for me to do that."

       "But it's the right thing to do, Mother," says Holly. 

       Margo shakes her head, and she smiles softly at Holly. She stretches out her arm, cupping the side of Holly's face with one hand. "Holliday, dearest," she says softly. Holly wants to fidget backwards. "You don't seem to understand — it's difficult to understand, baby, it's so difficult... But the right thing, for us, is to pretend."

       "It isn't the right thing for me, Mother," says Holly.

       Margo goes quiet for a moment. Holly freezes. Slowly, her mother takes her hand off of her face, and she stands up. Holly watches her in slight panic. The fireplace in her room still connects to the Floo Network somehow, if need be she can run and get back to the Burrow...

       "You don't know that, Holliday," says Margo.

       Holly frowns. "Yes, I do."

       "But, dearest, if you choose to do that—" Margo cuts herself off, and she winces. Holly's eyes narrow, as her mother goes quiet for a minute, as if thinking of something dreadful, before she turns back to Holly, looking grave. "Then they might look into your heritage. They might find out about your father..."

       "There's the Order—"

       Margo laughs. "The Order is pathetic."

       "What, and being a Death Eater isn't?" says Holly.

       Margo goes still. Holly winces. I shouldn't have said that.

       "Do you want to die, dear?" says Margo, moving closer to Holly. She shakes her head, leaning backwards. "Do you want to see your loved ones die? Do you want to watch everything you love burn and crumble into ash?"

       Holly shakes her head again. Her stomach's twisting into knots, more than before. She thinks of Durmstrang, of the old Dark Arts professor, and she isn't sure who she'd rather be facing right  now.

       "This is not the easy option. This is the safe option, the right option," says Margo. "Just because your little boyfriend has other ideas doesn't mean he's correct..." Her mother lets out a sigh. Holly watches her in slight panic. "And you forget, Holliday, how much I love you. I would be crushed, truly, if you turned around and went against me. I would be so upset if you left me... Maybe so upset that I'd accidentally reveal the truth, and the Dark Lord would learn of your father and step-father. And then, who knows if you'd be spared. I know they will not..."

       Margo looks away. Holly isn't quite sure what to do. The mention of her parents has left her frozen. She stares at her mother in shock, small tears gathering in her eyes.

       A moment passes. Holly still hasn't moved, just sat and watched her mother look grave and sad. Her mother finally walks out of the room, and Holly doesn't move for another couple of seconds. She worries that she'll be tricked and cursed if she does.

       But she waits until the door clicks shut and the footsteps have disappeared down the hallway before she rushes to the door and locks it. It's a temporary solution. She'll write to Ron, ask if she can stay at the Burrow for the time being, that she'll explain once she arrives... They'll be fine with that, surely, it's just that she can't leave Draco here, can she? Not now they're connected, made to protect each other from harm...

       And then, suddenly, the fireplace roars into life. A burst of green fire appears, and just like that, it disappears again. Holly spins around, about to grab her wand from her bed, but before she can, she sees Harry pull the Invisibility Cloak off of himself.

       "Oh, thank God!" she says, and she rushes across the room, wrapping her arms around him. Harry staggers back, a little alarmed, and Holly pulls away, a smile on her face again. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

       "You left the Burrow three hours ago," says Harry, frowning. She can see him looking around the room, the terribly bare room, nothing like the one at Grimmauld Place. This room doesn't have her soul, not like Grimmauld Place did. If it were to have her soul, it would have countless muggle references, but of course, she's not allowed them anymore. "I wanted to see if you were all right — the way you left earlier, how your mum—"

       "Mother," says Holly quietly.

       "What?" he says.

       "She doesn't like being called Mum," says Holly. Harry's eyes narrow incredulously, but Holly doesn't look at him, doesn't smile weakly to show she's fine. "She isn't my mum, she's my mother. I don't get it, but I guess she knows what she's on about..."

       "What?" says Harry, in shock. "That isn't right, Hol, you—"

       "She says she'll tell him where my dad is, if I act out," says Holly quietly. Harry looks even more shocked, his hand resting on her upper arm as she speaks, like he wants to keep her from harm. She is from harm. As long as she doesn't go against her mother... This is all bullshit. "Please don't tell anyone that..."

       "I promise," says Harry, and the mention of promises makes Holly visibly wince and move away. He looks even more confused — more confused than usual. "What happened...?"

       There's a knock at the door.

       "Put the cloak on," says Holly, quietly and quickly. Harry nods, and she gives him a look. "And Potter, if you dare try and make your presence known, I will—"

       There's another knock at the door.

       "Potter," says Holly, grimacing.

       "See?" says Harry, putting the Invisibility Cloak back on. Holly tries to think directed towards Draco, but obviously it isn't working. Of course it isn't working. Her life's nothing but a horror anthology, one disaster after another.

        Holly unlocks the door, after hesitating for a minute. Her mother looks back at her. There's a moment in which Holly just frowns at her mother. She isn't happy about this, but if she's going to get shouted at, she'd rather it happen when her boyfriend wasn't standing near — especially since her boy friend's so Gryffindor that he will instantly jump at the chance to defend her. Which is normally endearing, but perhaps not when Holly's trying to stay out of trouble. It might be a little dodgy if her mother sees him hiding. In her bedroom. At almost eight o'clock.

       "I wanted to apologise," says Margo.

       Holly nods. She doesn't reply. Unlike with her dad, or even Harry, she can't make any angry retorts back at her mother, because she knows it won't end well. Her mother probably won't get that she's angry, and she'll just get angry herself and then Holly will have to apologise. Her dad would let her vent.

       "I love you very much, Holliday," says Margo. She moves closer to Holly, but Holly steps back. For a second she thinks she sees a blur in her peripheral vision. If Harry dares... "I sometimes come on too strong, and I'm so sorry for my behaviour. Everything is just different, since I broke out from Azkaban. It was so difficult, Holliday, trying to escape from Azkaban, but I had to. All of this is for you, you know that. I sacrificed my life to let you live and, well, when you say you don't care about getting hurt — it upsets me. I destroyed my life so you could have yours. Please don't forget that. So I'm sorry, I really am. I love you very much."

       Quietly, Holly replies, "I love you more."

       "I love you most," says Margo, and she pulls Holly closer. Holly doesn't stop her this time, let's her mother kiss her forehead. She closes her eyes and wishes for this to be over. She can't imagine what Harry thinks of her. He must think she's so pathetic.

       But her mother smiles softly, and tells her that she has to go back downstairs to say goodbye to Narcissa and Draco. Holly nods. She watches her mother leave the door again, only this time, she dreads for her to close it, for Harry to speak to her again. He must think she so pathetic...

       The door closes. Holly turns to find Harry in broad daylight again, his brows furrowed in concern. She can't force a smile.

        "So it's fine," says Holly quietly.

       "No, it's not!" says Harry, trying his best to keep his voice down. He takes a hold of her arms. "You can't forgive her — she isn't good—!"

       "But he'll kill my parents," says Holly, and she looks up at Harry, tears in her eyes again. "I can't let him do that. She can put me through hell if it means it'll keep my dads safe."

       "Hol, can't you see?" says Harry.

       "She loves wrongly sometimes," says Holly. She doesn't look him in the eye. "I don't want to speak about this anymore... But could—could you stay a little longer?"

       "If that helps you," he nods.

      "Thank you," says Holly, still speaking softly. "I love you."

       "I love you too," he replies, and Holly sits down on her bed, feeling completely and utterly defenceless. How can she defend herself, how can she ever feel useful when every time she stands up for something her mother's said the situation's explained to her and she not only feels stupid for not realising it herself, but incredibly guilty. She should've known her mother actually had a good plan, because her mother is good.

       Holly wraps her arms around Harry, frowning.

       She always presumes her mother's going to do something wrong. She hates it. Her mother's done so much for her, and this is how she repays her? She's terrible, she truly is. Her mother's right. Sometimes Holly wonders how anyone can love her when she's this stupid and can't even trust her own parent...

      This is all awful.

—✧—✧—✧—✧—

hi there so im not sure if harry had the cloak over the summer but for the sake of this he did

i hope you enjoyed, and let me know what you thought!! :)

(also did u like flo and pansy)