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EIGHT MORNING GLORY
(WHAT'S THE STORY?)
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IT IS ON A dreary morning in November when Holly beholds the Prophet article. Part of her is still grasping onto habits from Durmstrang, like getting ready as quickly as possible, and because of this, she finds herself sitting in the common room. Her friends are still brushing their teeth whilst she's ready, hair brushed, teeth clean, uniform smart. She's disguised her copy of Frankenstein using a dust cover for a wizard novel, a weird collection of stories for children. It's the closest she could find, and really, why would she buy a book just for the dust cover, when she already has this one, from when her mother sent it on her eleventh birthday?
She knows her friends are lovely, and that their dislike of muggles comes from their parents, but part of Holly still worries that it's too early to mention anything about her dad. They might not be at that part yet, when she can open up and they can accept it. Her mother told the world her father was a wizard to keep her safe — and maybe keep Holly safe. In a way Holly wonders if it did, because if she had told the truth, maybe the remaining Death Eaters would have searched through towns for her, to pull her away from her father, force her to live with her cousin or something. A real upbringing, they'd say.
For now, however, the dust cover is going to hide the cover, however, of an illustrated human heart, around the title and author name. Holly thinks she'll start slipping in conversations about Durmstrang, and then, she'll drop the bomb about her dad. Yeah. That seems to be a good idea. She thinks she'll do that.
Holly's about to turn the page when a copy of the Daily Prophet is thrown onto her lap. She raises an eyebrow, looking up. Pansy's grinning, as she points towards the paper. "Look!" she says. "You're on the front page!"
Her eyes widen, as she looks at the paper. Holly grins, and she gets to her feet, climbing over the back of the sofa to get to Pansy. She holds onto Pansy's hand, excited, and she exclaims, "Shit! I didn't think it would be on the front page! This is so cool!"
Holly looks at the headline, emboldened above the picture of her.
MEET THE SLYTHERIN CHAMPION:
HOLLIDAY LIPPINCOTT
"I look decent in the picture! Fuck yes!"
Pansy laughs. She moves her hand, so that Holly can unfold the newspaper, revealing the article underneath.
Everyone was shocked when the Goblet of Fire announced that there would be two extra champions during the current Triwizard Tournament, the revival of an old contest joining wizarding schools Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Beauxbatons Academy, and Durmstrang Institute. Normally, there is one champion per school — however, this time, Hogwarts has mysteriously acquired another two. We all know the name Harry Potter, the boy who lived, but the champion is unknown to most of us: Holliday Lippincott.
Many of us know about her mother, Margo Valen, one of the many Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban. But, Holliday — nicknamed Holly by her friends ("Nicknamed Holly by anyone who doesn't want to live at the bottom of a well") — was raised by her father, an American wizard called Augustus Lippincott. "My parents had a fling, and they went separate ways afterwards, but since it was safer for my father to raise me, that's what they decided," says young Holliday Lippincott, upon the mention of her family.
The event she is referring to is the event on the twenty-fifth of September 1980, when Margo Valen and husband Atticus Malfoy were arrested on their wedding night, and sent to prison the following day. Holliday Lippincott looks to the side when this is mentioned, her eyes glistening lightly with the tragedy of the past. ("Why would I be upset? What?")
I, the enchanting Rita Skeeter, move the conversation onto a happier subject: the Triwizard Tournament. "Of course I am looking forward to it," says Holliday, smiling ambitiously. ("How the fuck do you smile ambitiously?") "I think it's going to be fun, especially as a way to learn new spells and such."
Holliday informs me of her academic past: she went to Durmstrang Institute until this school year, where she transferred to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and was promptly sorted into Slytherin. "I've made a lot of great friends whilst being here," she says. "My cousin's friends quickly welcomed me, which has been wonderful."
Already, Holliday has become a loved member of Slytherin house. "We're all supporting her in the tournament," says best friend, Pansy Parkinson.
Holly looks up, grinning still. "Hey, it's you!"
"Yeah, she was looking for people to interview, and it was either me or Harlow, and she'd say you were in love with Harlow, which isn't exactly what we're going for."
Holly puts her hand on her heart. "I love you, so, so much."
"Obviously our Holly's going to do well! You haven't seen her in lessons — she knows all of the answers, plus she's quick... She's everything you'd want a champion to be."
Everything you'd want a champion to be. Could underdog Holliday Lippincott rise through the ranks, and beat the champions older than her, or even the Boy Who Lived? Only time will tell.
Although Holly continues to grin and hold onto Pansy, excitedly bouncing up and down as she does so, one thing in the article repeats itself in her brain. The tragedy of her past. She doesn't know if it is her tragedy. She may be a part of it, but that tragedy is not about her, it's about a girl a little older than she is, with ice-blonde hair and ambition in her bloodstream. It's about a girl named Margo Valen, who — she doesn't know what happened, she just knows the ending. Her mother tried to get out, because of her, and the opposite occurred.
In this tragedy, Holly isn't the main character. She's the reason for their end.
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THE TRAGEDY OF MARGO VALEN is still on Holly's mind the day before the tournament, as she walks into breakfast with her friends. All Holly knows about her mother is what the letter from her eleventh birthday says, and what her dad knows — although she isn't sure whether she should credit her dad in the slightest, since all he knew was her name, and he had a little photo of her, from when she was twenty. The letter only explains how she didn't mean to be an evil Death Eater. Which is handy for her daughter, who yeah, appreciates the fact that her mother wasn't entirely evil, but she'd also appreciate knowing something about her mother.
Like, what house was her mother in? Who were her friends? What music did she like? Did she ever sneak out after curfew at school with her friends, and get into trouble? What were her parents like? Were her parents nice, or were they the cookie-cutter Pureblood parents, prejudiced and with a face that suggests constipation?
Ahead, she sees one of the POTTER STINKS badges, and an idea appears in Holly's mind. Draco. His parents must know something about her mother, surely? She's married to his dad's brother, they've got to know her... And they're around the same age, maybe they know a couple stories of her, from when she was at school?
Holly tries to sit near Draco as they all eat breakfast, but he's too busy talking to Crabbe and Goyle about the article ridiculing Harry to notice her looking over, trying to make him talk to her. For fuck's sakes. All she wants is to know something about her mother.
There's no hope. Trying to speak to her cousin, to cut into his conversation with his friends, seems more impossible than winning this stupid tournament. She gives up when she's halfway through her bowl of cereal, figuring that she'll be able to find a way to slip it in later, maybe at the end of the breakfast she can pull him to the side and ask if he knows anything. Maybe in the common room later on, when they're all doing homework or talking about mindless things, she can quietly talk to him. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea. She'll mention it, later on.
"So we'll go over everything after school," says Harlow, as they start to get up. It's a couple minutes before the bell rings, and the students left in the hall are gathering their bags, getting ready for their lessons. Holly nods, holding onto her bag strap. "The first task's after lunch tomorrow, we've still got plenty of time, if you want to go over spells, or anything..."
"I think it'll be good if we practice duelling later, because that's practicing spells and hopefully they can be applied to whatever the first task is," says Holly. "I wish they gave us a hint, or something. It would be so much easier! Like, just a little hint, like, what sort of magic to practice, because it'll be useful. I know it's trying to throw us in the deep end but—"
Someone pulls on her arm, but before Holly can snatch her arm away, Susannah's already done it, forcefully slapping whoever tried to grab her. Holly spins around. Harry looks confused, and she supposes it's because seemingly nothing smacked his hand.
Holly crosses her arms. "I had nothing to do with the article Rita Skeeter wrote about you—"
"I wasn't going to—" says Harry. "I didn't think you did, anyway."
Holly shrugs. "Well, I tried to, but she said that you couldn't swear in newspapers, which I think is a silly rule," she says. Harry still looks confused. She smirks. She can't help it, all right? She's still a little annoyed, sue her for making a couple retorts. "It was sarcasm. So what do you want, then—?"
"It's dragons," says Harry.
"You're having a dragon problem?" says Holly. "Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey about that, um—"
"No, the tournament," says Harry. "The first task is dragons."
Harlow walks up to them, now that they've moved to the side of the corridor, away from the flow of students getting to different classrooms. He looks at Harry oddly, and begins, "Uh, Hol—"
"I'll be a couple of minutes, it's about the tournament, I'll tell you later," says Holly. Harlow slowly walks away from them, in spite of the nasty look he was casting towards Harry. Which makes sense. He's being protective.
Holly stares at Harry for a minute. Is he lying? What if he's saying this to trick her, so she'll be prepared for dragons, but not the actual task? She narrows her eyes at him. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" she asks.
"Because I am," says Harry.
"Why are you telling me, then?" asks Holly.
Harry continues to frown at her. She's changed her tone, she knows that. She doesn't get why he looks confused over this, considering she made it pretty clear that she got annoyed, a couple weeks ago. Especially since she's dropped every attempt to be nice to him since then — which her friends are sort-of happy about, but whatever, they hate him regardless.
"Krum and Fleur know," says Harry.
Holly steps closer to him. She's trying her best to be a little intimidating. She knows it's not really working, but she hopes she gets a couple Brownie points for trying. "You know if you're lying, Viktor will tell me, right?" she says.
"I'm not lying," says Harry.
Holly frowns at him. "OK."
"I'm not."
"Sure."
"Why would I?"
"To beat me," says Holly. She crosses her arms. He looks a little offended, a little standoffish, as if he's the one that's always reached out, always tried to be nice to the other one. You know what? Who fucking cares if he's a little hurt? She got annoyed too. Boo-fucking-hoo. "That's what you want, isn't it?"
"I thought it wouldn't be fair, if you didn't know," says Harry.
Holly narrows her eyes. She looks at him cautiously. "You were trying to be fair," she says. Harry nods. For a minute, she looks at him still, trying to see if he'll crack or not, but he doesn't. She loosens her posture, and steps forwards, smiling softly. "From the sounds of things, you're too much of a Gryffindor to think of a lie like that, you must be telling the truth."
"I — what?"
"So the first task is dragons?" she says. Harry, still frowning, nods at her. Holly steps backwards, leaning against one of the bookcases. She thinks to herself, trying her best to conjure up a game plan for the task. "Are you sure?"
"I was shown them," says Harry. "Do you want evidence to prove it?"
Holly frowns for a second, before she looks at him in disbelief. A little smile appears on her face. "Was that — dare I say — a joke?" she says. "Did you make a joke?"
Harry frowns back at her. "Is it not very Gryffindor of me?"
"Boy," she says. Well, more like breathes out, but in her defence, she's in shock. This is Holliday Lippincott when she's shocked. He made a joke. And then another joke. Before today, the most he's said is so you didn't put your name in, then? What kind of madness is this? "That's another joke. Who possessed you?"
"Not me," says Susannah, sighing. "I'd rather die again than become a teenage boy... Especically that one. He asks so many questions, fucking hell. Who's she? How does she know Malfoy? Do you think she's right? Fuck off. He's so annoying."
Holly chooses to ignore Susannah. It's for the best.
"No one," says Harry.
"That was a joke, but it's fine. It's progress," says Holly. For a minute she looks to the side, where the last of the students are leaving the hall. She turns to Harry. "Does Cedric know?"
"No, I was going to tell him after you," says Harry. Holly's about to step closer to the hall, to see if he's still in there, but Harry's already off, having spotted Cedric heading towards one of the staircases. Holly follows. She supposes she's a part of this now, so.
They're at the bottom of the stairs by the time Cedric reaches the top. Holly casts a glance towards Susannah, who salutes and soars into the air, following him. Harry's a couple steps in front of Holly, rushing to his target. She frowns, and grabs onto his arm, slowing him down.
"You don't have to run at him like a crazed ostrich," says Holly. She rolls her eyes at him, because of how silly he's acting. Is this what all Gryffindors are like? Determined to get right into action, without calming down enough to figure out what's going on? "Trust me, we're not going to lose him."
"How do you know that?" says Harry.
"I just do," says Holly. They get to the top of the staircase, and Holly looks above the heads of students, finding Susannah at the end of one corridor. She takes a hold of Harry's arm and starts to lead him through the crowds, slipping between different students. "There's no need to push everyone out of your way."
"How is this any different from running, then?" says Harry.
Holly grumbles. "We're walking quickly, and we're not pushing people?"
Either he's chosen not to reply, or his response has been masked by the amount of talking by the other students around them. Eventually the crowd thins out and becomes just her and Harry, with Cedric's group at the other end of the hallway. Holly takes her hand off of his arm, which she's pleased about.
"We need to get him alone," says Harry, speaking quietly.
Holly frowns. "How about—?" —we ask to talk to him privately?
Harry steps in front of her. Holly raises an eyebrow, and looks over at Susannah. If he's going to have his back turned, she's going to look at Susannah, and give her a look that's meant to be for him. Susannah looks like she agrees. Show-off.
"Diffindo!"
Well, she wasn't expecting him to do that. It contradicts everything her friends have said, about him being unable to care for himself, though, but she supposes that's because they've only seen him in lessons and around school. Not like this... Because, surely, he's got to be decent at magic, he's managed to escape Voldemort for this long.
The contents of Cedric's bag spill onto the floor. Harry looks over his shoulder at Holly, and she nods at him, a little impressed. She steps ahead of him, walking forwards to help Cedric gather some of his textbooks. His friends have already cleared off, after Cedric told them to go on without him.
"Oh, thanks, Holly," says Cedric. He looks up, to where Harry's standing. "Hi... My bag just split... brand-new and all..."
"Cedric," says Harry. "The first task is dragons."
"What?" says Cedric.
Holly stands up, having tried her best to help gather his belongings. She brushes her skirt down, and she sees Susannah in the far corner, dissolve into the air. Obviously she's bored, then.
"Dragons," says Harry. Cedric glances at Holly, and she nods. If she didn't have to fight them, she'd be looking forward to this. Holly loves dragons. She remembers trying to draw them with crayons in primary school. "They've got five, one for each of us, and we've got to get past them."
Cedric frowns. "Are you sure?"
"Dead sure," says Harry. "I've seen them."
He's seen them? Holly wants to see the dragons! Where are they dragons? She's suddenly turned into her seven-year-old self again, minus the pink-and-green hair wrap, having read one book about a friendly dragon and wanting to befriend them all, and getting disappointed every time she and her dad went to a zoo, and they had none. Seeing a dragon was her childhood dream. But she has to fight one. Her younger self would be so upset.
"But how did you find out?" says Cedric. "We're not supposed to know..."
"Yeah, actually," says Holly. "How did you find out?"
"Never mind," says Harry. Holly and Cedric exchange a look, both confused, both suspicious. (Is this another friend? Holly's proud of herself.) "But I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum will know by now — Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons, too."
Cedric stands up. Holly feels bad for being impressed earlier on, now that she can see him struggling to juggle all of his belongings. She'll figure out how to repair his bag.
"Why are you telling me?"
"It's just... fair, isn't it?" says Harry. He looks at both Cedric and Holly, who now share a suspicious look. "I found Holly a couple of minutes ago, so we all know now... we're on an even footing, aren't we?"
Holly hears footsteps from behind her. For a minute she's transported back to Durmstrang and her heart stops. Detentions were handed to those that were late to lessons, and detentions at Durmstrang were what horror novels were made of. If it wasn't for Durmstrang, she would've shown her panic, her wincing, but then, if it wasn't for Durmstrang, she wouldn't be bracing herself for a detention, would she?
She turns around. Moody stand next to a classroom further down the hallway. "Come with me, Potter," says Moody. Holly breathes a sigh of relief — before she freezes again. Why is he only concerned about Harry? Why is he letting her and Cedric off? "Diggory, Lippincott, off you go."
Holly nods, and smiles politely. "Yes, sir."
Sometimes it's painfully aware how she once went to Durmstrang. Whilst Cedric takes a minute before turning on his heel, walking to his lesson, and Harry tries to get out of going with Moody, Holly's still too worried about getting into trouble. What happens if you get into trouble here? She's been avoiding upsetting teachers since day one, she learnt the hard way at Durmstrang that testing your limits isn't worth it.
But.
Draco was saying, ages ago, that Moody's eye can't see through everything. It wouldn't be able to see through thick stone, like most of the castle walls — "Especially ones a distance away from him," her cousin had been saying, the evening after Moody turned him into a ferret and he was on a brief quest for blood, before he got bored and moved onto tormenting Harry again.
So. Holly walks towards the marble staircase she ascended earlier, in pursuit of Cedric, and waits next to the moving portraits. The castle is fairly quiet, with the exception of some paintings having conversations. All of the other students are in lessons, the usual chatter between lessons isn't present in the air. It's weird.
Some time passes. Eventually, she hears footsteps, and she listens out for Moody's heavy thud, but it isn't there. Holly stays where she's standing, and Harry walks out of the corridor. He sees her, and looks surprised.
"Why are you—?"
"He's weird," says Holly. Harry frowns. "Well, he is, isn't he?"
Harry shrugs. "I suppose so."
"I was just wondering — why was he only speaking to you?"
"I don't know," says Harry.
Holly frowns. "Hmm," she says, as they start to descend the stairs. She glances over at him, who looks a little confused still, why she waited for him. "I thought I should check you weren't dead, or something. You're not, which I guess is a good thing." I wanted to know what he said to you, but obviously you won't say anything.
"I don't think everyone thinks that," says Harry. He's still a little standoffish.
Holly shrugs, spotting her classroom a little further in the corridor. "Anyone interesting has people that hate them."
"Yeah, but the person that wants me dead is Voldemort—"
Holly turns to him, and grins. "You're like my mother, then. See you."
She turns on her heel and makes her way towards the classroom, letting herself in and politely apologising to Professor Binns. Holly slips into her normal seat, the one next to Pansy, and the lecture on some sort of magical history continues.
Pansy leans towards her. "What were you doing with Potter?"
She says Potter like it's a swear-word, like it's a word so vulgar her throat burns from having to say it. Holly lets out a sigh. "It was about the tournament," she tells her. "The first task is dragons."
Pansy gasps, but since they're both trying to whisper, her gasp sounds like a high-pitched attempt to grab the smallest bit of air. "Dragons?"
"Dragons!" says Holly.
Pansy grins at her, and sits away from her for a second, as she raises her hand. "Sir, I feel sick, is there any chance that Holly can take me to see Madam Pomfrey?"
Professor Binns slowly nods. Holly and Pansy gather their things and leave the classroom, their attempt to mask their excitement becoming increasingly pathetic. If anything, Holly's thankful that Professor Binns is too old to give a shit, because at one point, the apparently sick Pansy almost jumps up and down. Holly holds onto Pansy's arm, and guides her out of the classroom, trying her best to be quick.
"Dragons!" says Pansy, the instant that the door's closed behind them. "Do you know what about dragons?"
"Well," says Holly, turning to face Pansy. "They can't make us slay a dragon, can they? Because they'll be uproar about making children kill a dragon, and the health and safety issues would be intergalactic..." She frowns, and a light-bulb goes off in her head. "It's got to be finding something, surely? They can't make us kill a dragon, but they can make us fight one off — but why would we fight one off, for no reason? That's the same as trying to kill one — so it's got to be fighting them off, to get something. Like all of the fairy tales about a knight saving a princess from a dragon—"
"Right," says Pansy, taking Holly to the side of the empty hallway. She has her hands on Holly's arms. "We make sure you know how to fend off a dragon, and then we make sure you know Summoning Charms, and all of that, yeah?"
"Yeah," says Holly, a grin plastered across her face.
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you guys holly's mum is so cool and i'm really enjoying the lil plot line about her. also this chapter was going to be very very very different but then my laptop didn't save the last 1000 words so,, lol,,, i wrote it differently and i think it works a little better. it also means that i could work in the stuff about margo valen, so
i hope you enjoyed!!! let me know what you thought!! especially i'd love to hear what you think about margo valen because she went from evil and terrible to "made a couple bad decisions" in the space of like, two chapters? but she's so interesting and omg i am excited
(also the first task is the next chapter yaaaaay r u ready)