[ Real quick there is the briefest mention of suicide and alcoholism. Like, for a couple of paragraphs, just part of a back-story — but if this makes you feel uncomfortable, you've been warned. ]
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
—✧—✧—✧—✧—
FIVE HIGH HOPES
—✧—✧—✧—✧—
HOLLY'S GOT HIGH HOPES for the Slytherin Quidditch team, and for this whole school year in general. She's going to ace the Quidditch matches — they might not win every one, but, a win's far better if you have equally good competitors, and you have to fight to win — and she's going to sort this mess out with April Hertz. Everything will be fine, she knows it will.
But the next morning, she can't spot April in the Great Hall. She can, however, see Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table, so she leaves her friends, promising to sit with them in their lessons together ("Yes, Pansy, even if I'm going out with Potter — I'm not saying I'm doing him, what the hell... I haven't done that yet.") regardless of her 'new' alliance with certain Gryffindors.
Holly smiles at him as she takes a seat, grabbing a couple slices of toast.
"So where were you yesterday?" she asks.
"Ask your cousin," says Harry.
Holly raises an eyebrow.
"Don't get angry," says Harry. Holly looks at him cautiously, slowly buttering her slice of toast. "But you know yesterday when you went to sit back with your friends?" She nods slowly, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "Well, I might have followed you in the Invisibility Cloak to see what Malfoy was up to..." He slows down to look at her. She frowns at him, trying to make him continue. "And he realised... So he Full Body-Binded me and broke my nose and tried to send me back to London..."
"Oh," says Holly.
"I would've told you," says Harry. "I wasn't spying on you—"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, I know," says Holly, taking a bite of toast. She shrugs her shoulders. "You're fine now... And there wasn't really any point following me. He just said that stuff to impress the others."
Harry frowns. "So you're not angry?"
"I like how you expect me to be angry, but you still did it," says Holly.
Harry pauses for a minute, wincing. "I love you?"
"Yeah, I know," says Holly, rolling her eyes. She starts to slather strawberry jam on top of the other slice of toast, ruefully thinking about the amount of strawberries she didn't eat when they were in-season. Now the ones in supermarkets are the gross kind forced to grow from chemicals. "Speaking of how you love me..." Harry frowns. Holly smiles sweetly. "Do you remember in fourth year, when I was telling you my completely correct theory about Barty Crouch Jr. being Moody?"
