The Davis'
Harry walked with them all the way to the train early that morning, leaving Ron tucked up in bed still. The walk seemed long, but before she knew it, she was standing on the platform, hugging her brother goodbye. “Please be careful,” she told him, “Don’t go looking for trouble, alright?”
Harry smiled. “Why would I look for it when it always seems to find me so easily on its own?” he joked, and she laughed, but she still made him say the words ‘I promise’ anyway.
The whistle blew. It was time to go.
“I have something for you,” Holly told him, pulling out the carefully wrapped magickal photo that Tracey had somehow snuck of them, spinning in the snow. Holly suspected her of taking it first and then hiding her camera away before they noticed her… Holly had framed the picture with some protective herbs she’d braided together and bound with a simple chord. She had thought it looked stupid, until Tracey showed her how to transfigure it into a proper metal frame that would still hold the pattern of the braid. “Tracey took it, but I added something to it, so I guess it’s from both of us.”
“Oh, yeah, I have one for you, too…” He patted his pockets down until he found what he was looking for, and produced a slightly smaller, somewhat lumpy bundle of newspaper. She couldn’t guess what it was because it was no particular shape, but she was sure she’d love it when the time came.
The whistle blew again, and Holly hugged her brother goodbye. She boarded the train, found the little compartment Tracey and Hermione had claimed as theirs, and settled in for the long ride.
Hermione gave each of them a small parcel, Holly’s was wrapped in silver, while Tracey’s was wrapped in green.
They had one for her two, of course. They’d actually worked really hard on it, wanting to make sure she knew that she was not a nightmare and that she was actually quite enjoyable to be around. It was a notebook, of a sort. They had asked Professor Flitwick to help them charm it so that it always had room for more notes without ever getting any heavier, and it always had room for pens and pencils, too. He’d given them the spells they would need, and pointers along the way, but insisted it would work best if it came from them. Holly had to agree. It had taken them several tries, but the end result was magnificent!
Soon enough, the train was pulling into Kings Cross Station. Hermione had changed from her school robes into a nice looking sweater and jeans, while Tracey looked somehow even more of a witch than she did in her school robes. Holly just kept her uniform on. It was all she had, since Tracey had made her get rid of all Duddlys old clothes.
The three of them hopped off the train, helping each other with their carts and keeping track of the gifts they now carried, then Holly and Tracey hugged Hermione goodbye. “Happy Christmas!” Hermione squealed when they both squeezed her at once.
“You too,” said Holly, when they pulled apart.
Hermione smiled one last time at them, and then turned to find her parents in the crowd.
Tracey took Holly’s hand and led her through the maze of people, stopping in front of a rather strange looking couple. The woman was almost six feet tall, pale, and ebony haired. She had Tracey’s hazel eyes, and clearly Tracey got her height (second only to Daphne in their year), from her mother because her father was a stout dark-skinned man with warm brown eyes and almost no hair at all. To make the contrast even more extreme, Mrs. Davis sported a dramatic set of floor length witching robes and matching hat, while Mr.Davis wore trousers and an egregious Christmas sweater.
“Oh it’s good to see you, Trace!” Mrs. Davis cooed, pulling Tracey into a tight hug. “School is good? You’re doing well in all your classes? Eating enough?”
Mr. Davis smiled fondly at his wife’s barrage of questions, then turned his smile on Holly and it became as bright as Tracey’s. “You must be Miss Potter! We are so thrilled to have you joining us this Christmas!” he told her, earnestly.
“Oh absolutely!” agreed Mrs. Davis. “And we are so pleased to see Tracey’s made some good friends! I know how… unpleasant some of Slytherin House can be. I’m glad you’ve found each other.”
Holly was a little confused. “I like being in Slytherin,” she said, awkwardly.
“Oh, “ said Mrs. Davis, lightly, “as did I, my dear. And I’m better for it, but there are some in the community who hold some rather… archaic views, shall we say?”
Mr. Davis grinned up at his towering wife. “They sure weren’t happy about me, that's for sure!” he said, but didn’t sound too bothered by it. He looked back down at his charges and waved them towards the barrier. “Come on girls, let's go home.”
Holly felt as though she were being warmed from the inside out.
They had quite a drive, getting all the way to Cardigan, in Wales. Holly had never been to Wales before, but she was excited to explore it with her friend.
Tracy had said her mum’s family came from there, but there weren't many of them left, so it was just the three of them living in a big house by the sea.
Holly found this to be true when they arrived. It was an old house, but not rickety at all. There was quite a lot of yard before the ocean touched the grass, but all of it was theirs. And the garden, even in the winter cold, was like something out of a fairytale… “it’s my dads,” Tracy explained. “Mum keeps telling him to stop calling it a fairy garden because we don't want any here - they're a pain, but he still does.”
Holly was enchanted by the wonder of it all.
“Come in, come in,” Mrs. Davis said, beckoning Holly inside. “I’ve got a room ready for you right next to Tracy’s. This way,” she said, leading Holly upstairs and down the hall to a small room that was still definitely worlds larger than the cupboard. It had a little window with the prettiest view, and a closet stacked with spare blankets and pillows. The bed was long and narrow, not like any bed Holly had ever seen, but it was comfortable and really, more than she could ever ask for.
“Thank you,” Holly said, a little meekly. “Really, thank you so much for having me.”
Mrs. Davis hugged her. It was such an unfamiliar and wonderful thing, being hugged by an adult... “You and Harry are always welcome here, okay? It's a big house that's not at all as full as it should be. We’re always happy to have anyone as wonderful as you here with us.”
Holly felt tears sting the corners of her eyes, but, not wanting to cry in front of her host, she forced them back and did not dare speak. Instead, she nodded, and ducked into the room.
“Alright, I’ll let you settle in. Dinner’s at six.” Said Mrs. Davis, an echo of understanding in her smile.
After dinner, as Holly was settling in for the night, there came a knock on the door of the guest bedroom the Davis’ had given her. Holly went to answer it, finding Mr. Davis standing in the hall with a friendly smile and a box full of cloth. “I keep meaning to take these to the little thrift shop up the way,” he said with a nod past her window, “they haven't fit Tracey in ages but I haven't gotten around to it. Why don’t you try some of them on? If they fit you like them, you can keep them.”
“Oh,” said Holly, unsure. “I- that is- you don’t mind? I don’t want to take Tracey’s clothes away from her..?”
Mr. Davis shook his head softly. “Nonsense!” he said, “they haven’t fit her since she was much younger. She’s so tall, you see, like her mother. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see they've gone to a good home.” He reassured her, setting the box just inside her room. “It’s up to you. I’ll just leave them here for you to look through.”
The box was left, the door was closed, and Holly heard his footsteps retreating down the hall. She stared at the box for a long while, trying to figure if it was some kind of trap. Mr. Davis had not sounded too terribly like he was planning to trick her. There was nothing for it, she decided, and sat down in front of the box.
Inside were five or six sets of clothes. Some were witching robes, some were regular muggle clothes (something Holly had never actually seen Tracey wear, but she imagined she might need to to visit her dads family). She tried on a pair of jeans and a pink and blue knitted jumper first. They fit her surprisingly well, though the jeans ran a little too long, so she had to roll the cuffs, and the jumper was big enough to curl her whole body into, but she was used to that. These were far nicer clothes than she had ever worn at the Dursleys.
Holly carefully folded both items and set them in her travel bag. She found also, a pair of leggings that went part way down her calf and had little bows on the ends, and a t-shirt with butterflies all over it, and a hoodie that zipped in the front. It was a bit worn, but stitched in some places with embroidery threads of different colors woven together, making interesting contacts. Tracey must have really loved that sweater for so much care to have been put into it. Holly set it aside to ask Tracey about in the morning.
Holly moved onto the witching robes. There were four, all of a similar size, but no two were the same in either color, nor shape. Holly liked them all, to be truthful. And, upon trying them, she found that while they were all a bit big on her, they were all infinitely comfortable. And pretty.