Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
—✧—✧—✧—✧—
FOURTEEN WHAT SHE'S DONE
—✧—✧—✧—✧—
NO ONE SAW THE DEAD BODY until it was too late; Dumbledore had been murdered as well, his body falling from the top of the Astronomy Tower. Margo Valen was found by McGonagall, who ordered the students to stand back as she checked the body for a pulse. There was none. Hermione had whispered to Ron, "I think she was going to kill Holly..." when McGonagall announced the fact that Valen was dead. Ginny told them that she saw Holly leave with her step-dad, and the realisation fell upon their shoulders, just like it did when her friends in the dungeons learnt of what happened. How Dumbledore was killed in cold blood by Snape, not Draco, and now, they had lost the only protection they had against Voldemort — and they can't find their friend anywhere.
But that's another tale. The mystery of where Holly went disintegrates within a couple of days, what with the arrival of a letter addressed to Pansy, saying:
I'm safe, I'm fine, please make sure you can say the same.
Show this to our friends, and mine. I know you hate the Gryffindors but they're worrying just as much as you, they deserve to see this as well.
H xxx
Our tale is not the awkward encounter between Pansy and Potter, Weasley, and Granger, as she walked up to the Gryffindor table the following breakfast, a frown on her face. "I'm not here to make fun of you... Unfortunately. I'm here to show you this." Our tale is not the strange way Pansy felt as she saw the relief wash over the three, and Weasley leave them to relay the news to his sister, nor is it the tale of how Pansy quietly left them, as Potter began speculating where Holly is... Nor is it the tale of how Pansy left the hall, her hand lightly entwined with Flo's, knowing full-well that she doesn't have two of her closest friends anymore. Holly won't return, neither will Draco. Pansy's got the others, but still. It'll never be the same.
Instead, our tale is another type of miserable, a cold night spent in a stately home. The escaped Dementors still aren't letting the sun shine through the clouds, and so, the green apple trees in the garden look just as tragic as the world around them, and the roses in their area of the garden resemble a blood-red. Again, looking like the world around them.
Our tale is this:
Atticus takes Holly back to Malfoy Manor, he goes straight to hiding one of the rooms, making sure the door was only visible to those that were trusted to enter. She stands inside of it as he finishes the enchantment, looking around. There's an en suite, and the bedroom window looks out into the garden, the fountain outside glistening in the moonlight. Holly keeps her arms crossed, not sure what to do with herself. Everything feels numb... She doesn't know what's worse: the realisation that she killed her own mother, or the terror that soon, Bellatrix might try and do the same to her.
