Chapter Seven
With January came Lupus's birthday. January 7th was a cold day, and Holly and Hermione sneaked into the boys' dorm to wake up Lupus with the help of Neville. Fred and George had shown the kitchens to them recently, and Holly was in charge of arranging the cake with the help of the house-elves. The three of them crept through the dormitory, carefully avoiding the creaky floorboards they had learned to identify.
As they reached Lupus's bed, Holly held her breath and pulled back the curtains slowly, but Lupus woke up as soon as they moved, startling them. "Surprise?" Holly whispered, not quite sure how to proceed.
Lupus's eyes crinkled with amusement as he took in the sight of his three friends standing by his bed at 4 a.m., holding a chocolate cake. "Well, this is a nice way to start the day," he said, sitting up.
"Happy birthday!" they all whispered in unison, mindful of not waking the other boys.
"Get on, then," Lupus said, patting the bed. It was a tight fit with all four of them on it, but being eleven, they made do. Quietly, so as not to wake the others, they hummed the happy birthday song as Lupus cut the chocolate cake—his favorite type, which Holly had made sure of.
As they enjoyed their early breakfast, Neville handed over his gift, a small potted plant. "It's a cutting from the Silverleaf I told you about," Neville said proudly. "Thought you might like to have your own."
Lupus's face lit up. "Thanks, Nev. It's perfect."
Hermione handed over a neatly wrapped package. "It's a book on ancient magical texts. I thought you might find it interesting."
Lupus unwrapped it and smiled. "Thanks, Hermione. This looks fascinating."
Holly handed over her gift last, a carefully sketched portrait of Lupus reading by the Black Lake. She had animated the portrait and portrait Lupus would occasionally look up and raise an eyebrow. "I hope you like it," she said, a bit nervously.
Lupus examined the sketch, his expression softening. "I love it, Holly. Thank you."
With their gifts exchanged, the quartet decided to head out for their daily run, Lupus leading the way as always.
As the day went by, their friends and acquaintances from other houses wished Lupus a happy birthday, even Ron Weasley dropping by to offer his wishes. Lupus accepted the greetings with his usual polite demeanor, but there was a noticeable lightness in his step throughout the day.
Later in the afternoon, they sat by the tree near the Black Lake, soaking up the sun. Neville and Hermione were immersed in a discussion about how the moon affected plants, Hermione eagerly scribbling notes while Neville explained the different lunar phases and their impact on magical herbs.
Holly lay her head on Lupus's lap, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the peaceful atmosphere. Lupus was reading another book, occasionally glancing down at Holly to make sure she was comfortable.
Lupus gently tugged on her braid to get her attention. "Thank you for the sketch, Holly," he murmured quietly. "It's one of the best gifts I've ever received."
Holly smiled up at him. "I'm glad you liked it, Lupus. Happy birthday.”
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the lake, the four friends sat in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Holly was sure she would be adding today's photos to the album Hagrid had given her during Christmas.
The rest of the school year proceeded much like the first term had. Professor Snape’s animosity towards them remained as intense as ever, making each Potions class a test of patience and skill. McGonagall, their stern but fair Head of House, continued to cast suspicious glances their way, particularly when they were engrossed in their extracurricular projects. It seemed she couldn't shake the notion that they were plotting something nefarious, despite their protests to the contrary.
The general student body’s fascination with Holly, whom her close friends affectionately called ‘Holls’ some days showed no signs of waning. Anytime she did something remotely remarkable—which was a broad category, encompassing anything from mastering a complex spell to merely answering a question correctly in class—the whispers and stares intensified. This persistent attention was tiresome, exacerbated by the fame that clung to Holly like a shadow, a constant reminder of her infamous past and lineage.
Despite the constant scrutiny, Holly found solace in her expanding circle of friends. Thanks to several study sessions in the library, she became loosely acquainted with Susan Bones of Hufflepuff and her best friend Hannah Abbott, and another pompous Hufflepuff nicknamed Ernie, whose full name was Ernest Macmillan.
These study sessions also led to introductions with a number of Ravenclaws and Slytherins. Among these, Holly only considered Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davies, and Padma Patil as acquaintances.
The first three mentioned Slytherins had originally approached Lupus, undoubtedly because of his impeccable bloodline and high social status within the wizarding community. Over time, a tentative truce formed between the three Slytherins and the four Gryffindors. This unusual alliance allowed them to share insights and knowledge.
Despite the challenges, their friendships deepened. They found solace in their shared experiences and mutual support, navigating the complexities of Hogwarts life together. However, there was one person who seemed determined to make their lives difficult—Draco Malfoy. His constant antagonism, particularly towards Lupus, became a daily nuisance. Holly decided it was time for a little retribution.
One day, after much cajoling, Hermione finally agreed to play a prank on Draco with them and they started planning a harmless but humiliating prank for the blonde.
It seemed Professor McGonagall had a sixth sense for plots because the next week she watched them like a hawk, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She was particularly wary of their extracurricular projects, always assuming they were up to something suspicious.
Today, she had caught them huddled together during a break, whispering excitedly over a book Lupus had brought back from the Black library, apparently outlining pranks that his father and his friends had invented. It also contained simple spells created by them.
“May I remind you that Hogwarts is not a place for secretive plotting?” McGonagall’s voice cut through their conversation. Holly straightened up, a picture of innocence.
“Of course, Professor. We were just discussing our next Charms assignment,” she lied smoothly, earning a skeptical look from the older witch.
“See that you are,” McGonagall replied, her gaze lingering on them for a moment longer before she moved on. Holly was confused to see a look of nostalgia on her face and exchanged a confused glance with Hermione, who was on the verge of breaking, in the face of her favorite teacher.
A few days later one evening, after much planning, the quartet executed their plan. Holly had received an Invisibility Cloak as a Christmas gift which apparently belonged to her father. Using that, Lupus and Holly followed the Malfoy Heir.
They enchanted Malfoy's robes to change colors sporadically throughout the day, cycling through the most garish and clashing hues imaginable. Lupus, with his natural aptitude for charms, added an extra touch: the robes would emit a loud, quacking sentence whenever Malfoy tried to cast a spell.
The next morning, as Draco Malfoy entered the Great Hall for breakfast, Lupus sneakily waved his wand and muttered the second half of the spell so that the enchantment could take effect.
His Slytherin green robes turned a shocking neon pink, causing heads to turn and whispers to erupt. Malfoy's face turned as red as a tomato as he tried to maintain his composure.
"Potter!" he hissed, glaring daggers at Holly, who was doing her best to hide her grin behind a piece of toast. Lupus and Neville struggled to contain their laughter, their eyes sparkling with mischief. Hermione, their ever disapproving friend, too couldn't contains the giggles that escaped her.
Malfoy pulled out his wand, aiming to reverse the spell, but the moment he began to chant the incantation, his robes let out a loud quack, followed by, “My father will hear about this!”, in a squeaky voice followed by another quack.
Draco, red-faced, and trembling, looked at Holly and shouted, “My father will hear about this!”
This seemed to be the last straw because the entire student body burst into laughter, even some of the Slytherins couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Back in the Gryffindor common room that evening, the four friends recounted the day's events, laughter spilling from their lips as they relieved Malfoy's humiliation.
"Did you see his face when the quacking started?" Neville managed between fits of laughter.
Hermione nodded, smiling despite her disapproval of rule breaking. "And the colors! I don't think I've ever seen anything quite so vibrant.”
“Not to mention his signature phrase,” Holly said, snuggling into a smirking Lupus. The golden quartet as Hogwarts had started to call them, had taken over a corner of the common room and could be mostly found there when in the dorms.
“Good prank, inckle firsties!” A Weasley twin appeared, as he messed up Lupus's hair.
“How you do us proud!” The other twin said sparing a wink towards Hermione, before leaving as fast as they arrived.
The Weasley twins were third years and had somehow become friends with the quartet over the past year. Lupus and Neville would hang out with them sometimes when Holly and Hermione were off doing their own things.
Holly, too, liked them a lot and they sometimes lent her their broom to go flying. They were sure she was gonna be in the Quidditch team, come second year. Holly was hopeful anyways.
Soon, it was the most dreaded season of the year: exam season. Hermione began nagging everyone to study months before they realistically needed to, her anxious energy palpable. Only Neville truly heeded her advice, immersing himself in his textbooks and notes.
Lupus and Holly, on the other hand, were more laid-back about the whole ordeal. They often accompanied Hermione and Neville to the library, not so much to study, but to engage in other activities. Lupus would often be engrossed in one of his many foreign books, while Holly tried her hand at drawing and sketching her friends, an endeavor tied to her cultural lessons.
Holly’s sketches were far from masterpieces, but the exercise allowed her to explore obscure spells related to art and observe people under the guise of artistic study. She found joy in the creative process, even if her drawings didn’t always turn out as she envisioned.
After the grueling history exam, which seemed to drain every last ounce of their mental energy, the small group of First Year students eagerly sought the outdoors. The castle walls, which had felt like a protective cocoon during the colder months, now seemed stifling. The sprawling, lush, green hills surrounding Hogwarts called to them like a siren to sailors. The warmth of the sun was a welcome contrast to the cool stone of the castle, tempting them to bask in its rays.
“Freedom!” Neville exclaimed, throwing his arms wide as they stepped onto the sun-drenched lawn. Over the past year, Neville had slowly but surely overcame his confidence issues.
Hermione laughed, her usual tension momentarily forgotten. “We still have more exams, you know.”
“But none today,” Holly said with a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And that means we get to enjoy this beautiful day.”
The allure of the Black Lake proved irresistible. Its cool, inviting waters shimmered under the bright sun, and the group made their way to its shores. Holly, feeling particularly adventurous, dipped her toes into the water, shivering at the sudden chill but laughing nonetheless.
“Come on in, the water’s great!” she called, her voice carrying across the still surface of the lake.
Neville was the first to join her, cautiously wading in. Lupus and Hermione followed, though Lupus took his time, ever the cautious observer. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to lose her usual reserve, splashing water at Neville and laughing when he splashed back.
They spent the afternoon by the lake, their earlier worries about exams temporarily forgotten. Holly found a flat rock near the shore and continued her sketching, capturing her friends in their moments of carefree joy. Lupus lay beside her, reading but occasionally glancing at her sketches with a faint smile.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the landscape, the group gathered their things and headed back to the castle. The day had been a much-needed respite from the stress of exams, a reminder of the simple pleasures that Hogwarts had to offer.
“Today was perfect,” Hermione said softly, her eyes reflecting the fading light.
Holly nodded in agreement. “Just what we needed.”
Lupus and Neville exchanged smiles, content in the knowledge that, no matter how challenging their studies might be, they had each other and moments like these to make it all worthwhile. The camaraderie they shared was a powerful antidote to the pressures of school, and it made them all the more determined to face the remaining exams with renewed energy and confidence.
As they walked back, side by side, they knew that, together, they could overcome anything Hogwarts threw their way.
When Holly had her brainwave about the Philosopher's Stone and Hagrid, she immediately wanted to rush off to find the giant groundskeeper. The urgency in her voice was palpable as she relayed her thoughts to Hermione, Neville, and Lupus. Just as she was about to sprint out of the common room, Lupus reached out and gently caught her arm, halting her in her tracks.
He simply smiled, a calm and reassuring expression that somehow held an unspoken depth. "I've already taken care of it," he said softly. "I informed my grandfather during the winter holidays. The stone is secure from certain long-fingered individuals.”
Hermione, Neville, and Holly stared at him in disbelief for a moment. The idea that Lupus had preemptively handled such a significant matter was astonishing. But after a few seconds, they accepted his words, knowing that Lupus was not one to make idle claims.
Lupus was a dry-humored, quiet individual with a penchant for letting his actions speak louder than the few words he did utter. His subtlety often masked the full extent of his capabilities, and he preferred it that way. While he liked to play pranks on those who had wronged their circle, these pranks were rarely malicious. They were calculated and precise, aimed at delivering a lesson rather than causing harm.
However, occasionally, there was something darker lurking in the shadows of his eyes. A dangerous edge that was seldom seen but always felt. It was a reminder of the immense power and potential that Lupus held within. This darkness never surfaced around Holly, Hermione, or Neville, but it was a part of him nevertheless. Those shadows had been present in his aura just then, a silent warning of the lengths he would go to protect his friends and ensure their safety.
Later that night after they had said their good nights, Holly processed Lupus's revelation, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude and admiration for him. His foresight and protective instincts were remarkable, and they added another layer to their already complex relationship. Hermione and Neville seemed to share her sentiments, their expressions reflecting a newfound respect for their quiet, enigmatic friend.
Lupus, sensing their unspoken acknowledgment, simply shrugged and returned to his book. He preferred to stay out of the spotlight, content to know that his actions were appreciated even if they went unpraised. The room had settled into a contemplative silence, each of them reflecting on the events and their growing bond.
The incident with the Philosopher's Stone became a turning point for the quartet. It underscored the trust and reliance they had in one another, solidifying their friendship even further. They knew that, despite the challenges and dangers they might face, they had someone like Lupus watching their backs, ready to step in with quiet strength and unwavering loyalty.
Neville, who was ready to follow Holly and her hare-brained plan if it meant that they were doing the right thing. And Hermione, the rule follower, who was ready to break them for her friends. Holly didn't know what she did to deserve such dear friends.
Their First Year thus ended with relatively little excitement and fanfare. Ravenclaw won the House Cup; much to the consternation of both Slytherin and Gryffindor. The Lions tied with Hufflepuff for first place in the inter-school Quidditch Cup.
It had been a nice year, Holly thought. Certainly much nicer than she had expected that night in a rickety but on a rock in the sea. She had actual, real friends now, a protective, solicitous betrothed, and reliable if slightly loose acquaintances in all the Houses. All in all, the petite eleven years old could hardly complain.
Apparently she had spoken too soon, because as soon as she left the feast to go to the bathroom she saw Professor Quirrell standing by the alcove.
Before she could ask him something, a red beam came towards her and she knew no more.
When Holly finally came to consciousness, she could see a dimly lit room and could make out the silhouette of Quirrell. Her scar was throbbing painfully and she didn't have her wand.
The professor seemed to be muttering to himself and she could make out the word ‘Master’ thrown around a few times.
“She's awake.” Holly could hear an inhuman voice say. “Let me speak to her.”
“But, Master, you are not strong enough.” This time, it was Quirrell, who whimpered pathetically.
“I'm strong enough for this.”
Quirrell whimpered again before starting to open his turban. He turned round and Holly wished to have her wand, all over again.
Holly knew someone was out to get the stone for Voldemort, but she hadn't known it was Voldemort himself. There was a face attached to the back of her professor's head and it was the most inhuman and disgusting thing Holly had ever come across.
"Potter," the inhuman voice hissed, sending shivers down Holly's spine. "I know you have are aware of the stone, you've been meddling. Just like your parents."
Holly tried to speak, but her throat was dry, and no words came out. She felt a wave of panic, but she forced herself to stay calm. She had to think of a way out of this. She had to survive.
"Holly Potter..." it whispered.
“You are evil.” Apparently, Holly had found her voice.
“There is no good or evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it.”
Holly tried to take a step backward but her legs wouldn't move.
"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor ... I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds.... Unicorn blood has strengthened me these past weeks... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own.... Now... why don't you tell me where the stone is?”
Holly shook her head, determined to give nothing away. Voldemort's eyes narrowed, and she could feel his rage simmering just beneath the surface.
"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me... or you'll meet the same end as your parents.... They died begging me for mercy..."
"LIAR!" Holly shouted suddenly.
"How touching..." it hissed. "I always value bravery... Yes, girl, your parents were brave.... I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died... she was trying to protect you.... Now tell me where the Stone is, unless you want her to have died in vain."
"NEVER!"
Holly sprang towards the professor, and at the same time, Voldemort screamed, “Crucio!”
A red beam hit her as she barrelled into Quirrell. A few things happened simultaneously: first, a needle-sharp pain seared across Holly's scar; her head felt as though it was about to split in two. Secondly, it felt like her blood was boiling, and she experienced unimaginable pain, hearing herself screaming hoarsely. Third, Quirrell was struggling with all his might, and to her surprise, it seemed like wherever she touched, his flesh melted away.
Holly felt the spell drop, and a moment later became aware of someone pulling her into a tight hug. She could hear screams, and realized she was still screaming, and stopped while Quirrell screamed on.
Holly felt her vision clear just in time to see Quirrell die, and a dark misty cloud that could only be Voldemort flying towards and through her and the person holding her.
Dumbledore was standing in the center of the room staring at Quirrell's body and looking very very pale. McGonagall was standing near the door and clutching her heart in shock and Neville and Hermione stood behind her staying at Holly, both pale and terrified.
Holly realized that Lupus was the one hugging her and leant against him in relief.
“Voldemort.” Holly croaked.
“What?” Professor McGonagall seemed to pale even further, if that were possible.
“That was Voldemort. He wanted to know where the stone was. He stunned me outside the Great Hall and brought me here. When I refused to tell him, he said something, and the pain—” Holly shuddered violently, and Lupus's grip tightened around her, his presence a grounding force.
“I’m so sorry, my dear child,” Dumbledore said, closing his eyes in pain.
“No, you do not get to be sorry!” Lupus spoke up, his voice hard and angry. “You're the Headmaster and supposed to be keeping us safe, but you're harboring powerful Stones in this castle that work as bait to the likes of Voldemort. Someone call our guardian, and before anyone says anything else”—here he glared at the Headmaster—“I’m taking my betrothed to the infirmary.”
Before anyone could respond, Neville bravely crossed the room, stepping over the dead professor, and moved to help Lupus support Holly. Hermione, still in shock, found her voice and rushed forward to assist as well. McGonagall, regaining some composure, quickly conjured a stretcher for Holly.
“I’ll send for Madam Pomfrey and inform Lord Black immediately,” McGonagall said, her voice trembling slightly.
As they carefully laid Holly onto the stretcher, Lupus stayed by her side, his face a mask of fierce determination. He held her hand tightly, refusing to let go. Neville walked beside them, offering silent support, while Hermione followed closely, her eyes filled with worry.
Dumbledore watched them leave, his expression a mixture of sorrow and guilt. He turned to McGonagall, who was already sending a Patronus message to alert the necessary parties. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on the Headmaster, and he knew that the safety of his students had been compromised in a way he had not foreseen.
As they made their way to the infirmary, Holly felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She closed her eyes, trusting Lupus and her friends to keep her safe. The image of Voldemort’s face lingered in her mind, but she pushed it away, focusing instead on the warmth of Lupus's hand and the comforting presence of her friends.
In the aftermath of the harrowing encounter with Voldemort, Holly found herself recovering in the infirmary under Madam Pomfrey's careful watch. Lupus stayed with her throughout regardless of Madam Promfrey’s protests, however others were still not allowed to visit. Aunt Cassie had also visited and apparently had given quite a tongue lashing to the Headmaster that he wouldn't dare forget, in her words.
Dumbledore visited her a few days later while Lupus was out having lunch, when she was finally well enough to sit up and receive visitors. The Headmaster approached her bed with a gentle smile, his eyes reflecting concern and sadness.
“Good evening, Holly,” Dumbledore greeted her warmly, his voice carrying a comforting tone.
“Good evening, Professor Dumbledore,” Holly replied softly, still feeling the lingering effects of the recent trauma.
“How are you feeling?” Dumbledore asked, his gaze searching hers with a mixture of empathy and curiosity.
Holly hesitated for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Better, thank you. Madam Pomfrey says I should be able to leave soon.”
“That’s good to hear,” Dumbledore nodded, his expression thoughtful.
Holly nodded slowly, her mind racing with the memories of Voldemort's presence and Lupus's protective embrace. She knew Dumbledore could sense her thoughts, much like Lupus often did.
“Professor, why... Why did Voldemort want to come after me?” Holly asked tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dumbledore’s gaze softened even more, and he sighed deeply. “Voldemort is a dark and dangerous adversary, Holly. He seeks power and immortality, and he believes that the Philosopher’s Stone can help him achieve those goals.”
Holly nodded, her eyes flickering with understanding. “And Lupus...” she started, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “Lupus being my betrothed, does it make him a target?”
Dumbledore's expression became grave, his blue eyes piercing. “In a way, yes,” he admitted solemnly. “But it also provides you with a formidable ally. Lupus cares deeply for you, Holly. He has shown great courage and determination in protecting you.”
Holly nodded again, her heart swelling with gratitude for Lupus's steadfast presence. “I can't lose him,” she said firmly, her voice steadier now. “He's always been there for me. He's my best friend.”
Dumbledore smiled gently. “Love is a powerful bond, Holly. It will serve you well in the times ahead.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air. Dumbledore reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Holly’s shoulder.
“If you ever need to talk or seek guidance, my door is always open,” Dumbledore offered kindly.
“Thank you, Professor,” Holly replied sincerely, feeling a sense of reassurance in Dumbledore's words.
As Dumbledore prepared to leave, Holly gathered her courage to ask one more question. “Professor, about Voldemort... How did he come back? Why won’t he just... stay gone? Why didn't he die that day?”
Dumbledore’s expression grew somber, his eyes distant, and flashed in recognition before he replied.
“Voldemort’s soul is fractured and bound to this world by his desire for power,” he explained gravely. “It will take more than defeat in battle to truly vanquish him. But we will do everything in our power to protect you and ensure that he does not succeed in his darkest ambitions.”
“But, why did Voldemort come after my parents?” Holly asked tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dumbledore regarded Holly with a mixture of sympathy and solemnity, his eyes reflecting the weight of the past. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding, his voice gentle yet tinged with a profound sadness.
"Holly, there are things that are difficult to understand at your age," Dumbledore began, his tone carrying a hint of regret. "What happened to your parents was a tragic consequence of Voldemort's quest for power. They were brave individuals who stood against him, and in doing so, they became targets."
Holly nodded slowly, absorbing his words. She knew that her parents had been brave, but the details of their struggle against Voldemort had always been shrouded in mystery and pain.
"I promise you, Holly," Dumbledore continued softly, "when the time is right, I will tell you everything. But for now, it is important to focus on your studies, your friends, and staying safe."
“Remember it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”
Holly nodded again, feeling a mixture of disappointment and acceptance.
"Thank you, Professor," Holly replied sincerely, her voice tinged with a quiet determination. "I understand.”
And really she did, she knew what to do now. As Dumbledore departed, Holly settled back into her bed, her thoughts racing with the revelations and assurances he had provided. She knew that there were many unanswered questions, but she also felt a renewed sense of determination to face whatever the future held, bolstered by the guidance of those who cared for her and believed in her strength.
Voldemort was right in a sense, there was no good or evil, there was power and it wasn't about seeking it but how you used it that mattered. It was all about intent. And Holly promised to be stronger and better the next time they met.
Later that day Hermione and Neville came to visit Holly, who lay in her bed, propped up by pillows with her hand clasped in Lupus's hand, with Hermione and Neville seated closely beside her. The air was thick with a mixture of relief and lingering tension, the aftermath of the harrowing encounter with Voldemort still palpable.
Hermione, usually so put together, was visibly shaken. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she reached out to hold Holly's hand tightly. "I'm so sorry, Holly," she managed to say between small whimpers. "I can't believe what you went through..."
Neville, his expression a mix of guilt and determination, wrapped his arms around both Hermione and Holly in a protective embrace. "We're here for you, Holly," he murmured earnestly. "We are never letting you go alone anywhere, anymore.”
Holly squeezed their hands reassuringly, feeling a surge of gratitude for their unwavering support. "It's okay, Neville," she said softly. "I'm glad you all weren't there, I'd never forgive myself if something had happened to you guys.”
Lupus stood watchfully by the window, his usually calm demeanor overshadowed by a simmering intensity. His eyes never strayed from Holly, his hand absentmindedly brushing against her arm in a gesture of silent reassurance.
Hermione eventually composed herself enough to speak, her voice tinged with a newfound wariness. "I never realized... Dumbledore..." She trailed off, her trust in authority figures shaken by Lupus's outburst.
"It's okay, Hermione," Holly said gently, sensing her friend's turmoil. "We'll figure this out together.”
As the afternoon wore on, their other friends from the study group arrived, their faces etched with concern and relief. They gathered around Holly's bed, exchanging heartfelt words of support and promising to stay in touch over the summer. The Weasley twins hilariously dropped by with a toilet seat as a get well gift, and were thrown out by Madam Promfrey.
Later that evening, as dusk settled over Hogwarts, everyone bid farewell for the summer, promising to write and share news from their respective homes. Invitations for summer visits were exchanged and plans were made for reunions.
Holly lay in bed, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. She knew that Voldemort's threat loomed ominously in the background, but she also felt a newfound strength in the solidarity of her friends. As Lupus gently tugged at her braid, she nestled closer to him, finding solace in his steady presence.
Come what may, she knew her friends would be there.