Backfire

"Holly, hurry up!" Holland's roommate Pansy whispers shrilly as she tugged the duvet off of the brunette's body. Holland hisses as she adjusts her eyes to the very brightened room, also noticing her already-dressed friend. Good Godric, first day of the year and the girl was already contemplating on skipping. She begins to close her eyes for a few more seconds, still not accustomed to being awake. To this, Pansy threw a pillow her way, point-blank towards her head.

"You've got to be joking. You're completely mental if you think I'm going to let you go back to sleep!" Pansy scoffs in disbelief with her arms in the air. The pale skinned girl had her hair in a sleek ponytail, she looked gorgeous. Holland never understood how she was identified as a pug by all the students.

She had an upturned nose, but that didn't exactly mean she looked like a dog. She knew her terrible personality contributed to all the comments, and with that, Holland couldn't do anything in her friend's defense. Holland now sits up in her bed, blinking and rubbing her feet against the smooth duvet.

"Could you please just hurry up! Draco wanted to make sure we'd walk to class together." Pansy whined in pure irritation. Holly must have woken up later than she thought if Pansy was in this big of a mood. Holland tried to tame her mess of a hair, smoothening the brown, bushy locks out. It was always in tangles no matter how many times she'd brushed it, so she eventually just stopped trying.

"Oh, hell. What time is it?" Holland groans while stretching out her arms and legs, as if she her friend weren't already in a hurry. Holland forced herself to stare at the bright body of water out out the dorm's window in hopes of having it wake her up. The dark, circular room still had a touch of that dungeon-like feeling to it, with 4 windows between four beds, three beds out of four were made. She stood up and put her hair up in a tight knot, like how those muggle ballet dancers that she loved so much did. With a quick wave of her wand, she was dressed, neat, and glowing.

Pansy rolled her eyes, used to how advanced her friend was with magic. Because Holland's parents had always been so strict with how she shouldn't use magic to make her life easier, Holland made sure she could do just that, but in secret. It's not that she didn't want to listen to her parents, Holland just simply didn't like feeling controlled, detained, limited from such privileges. She began privately practicing in her room, beginning from levitating books to organize them in a particular order, to then learning how to completely revamp her room without moving a finger, but rather, a simple flick of the wrist with wand in hand.

She was thankful the letters of Mafalda Hopkirk reached her before her parents, and she was even more grateful when the Ministry of Magic seemed to assume that Holland was merely getting a head start on auror training at home, somehow lifting the Trace off of her years before she would become of age.

"With the talent and mind of yours, I still don't understand how you manage to keep playing it safe with your pranks on pretty boy Diggory." Pansy almost spits out his name in disgust, just as repulsed by the boy as Holland. Nobody really understood how Slytherins' minds worked, who to hate, why to hate, and how long to hate, but it seemed that they just found the right people and wordlessly agree to dislike and just how much so. Holland figured people who were more popular were the ones at risk for such irrational hatred. Holland usually didn't conform, being friends with Harry and the lot and all, but of course, Cedric Diggory was a different story,

"I wanted to stoop down on his level. If I don't, it's just cheating." Holland purses her lips and shrugs before proceeding to the mirror for a quick check on her appearance, already dabbing a finger of some kind of colored balm on her lips. Holland was spitting out lies, and she knew it. Cedric Diggory wasn't just Hogwarts's pretty boy, he was one of the smartest, too. He could probably charm a broken clock to have it sing him the time, if he wanted to.

But Holland didn't have the energy nor intentions of ever admitting to the boy's magical abilities. He never went all out to prank her, so she saw no need to do the same to him. It was a prank war. Holland wanted to win, but playing dirty such as bursting out spells levels ahead of their current pranks was disgusting. Holland found victory tasting sweeter when she won even just by downplaying, proving just how powerful she really was.

"That's completely unnecessary. You're already gorgeous. Can we go now, please?" Pansy begs. Holland rolls her eyes, knowing Pansy was just trying to leave as soon as possible. But even then, Holland was without a doubt one of the most beautiful girls in their year and she knew that.

She had long, dark brown locks that were mesmerizing when she had her hair up, even more encapsulating when they cascade down past her shoulders, swaying as she walked, lips that always looked like they were plump and puckered, and bright brown eyes that looked like honey under the sun. She never really used that for her own benefit. She never saw the point as she only wanted to be with George Weasley, one of the only boys in Hogwarts who didn't seem to fall for her so-called beauty.

Pansy, who was now relieved that her friend was finally ready to leave, made her way towards the door to open it and squeaks in delight when she sees Draco waiting for her down in the common room. The common room had a different feel to it, looking just the same, no sunlight, cool, black and green furniture and everything, but its atmosphere almost glowing as a new year awaits its residents. Right next to the fireplace, a bulletin board was clean, only one poster stuck unto it.

It was a Quidditch tryouts poster, letting people know when they could try out, Holland looked closer to see that it was last year's Quidditch tryouts, wondering if there would even be time for Quidditch this year when there would be that tournament. The common room was now empty, of course. As people had already gone out to eat before hurrying off to their own classes.

"I'm so sorry you had to wait." She apologized, arms up as she was ready to engulf the boy in a hug. Draco looked dapper, having grown quite a lot since their first year. Holland knew her friend was attractive, but because of his immaturity, she never saw herself having a crush on him. Holland never said anything, but she actually sometimes felt that the boy himself liked her, or maybe it was because she was the only ever girl the boy had ever communicated decently with.

"Don't worry about it." He puts his hand out to prevent the hug from taking place, ignoring Pansy's hurt expression. "So where's Holly?" The question made Pansy's nose scrunch up, was she not downstairs yet?

"I'm here! Let's go." Holland quickly hollers while bolting down the stairs towards the common room before Pansy could yell at her once more. Holland shook her messenger bag, making sure it actually had parchment and quill in it before joining her two friends as they head off to class.

The three leave the common room calmly, as if they weren't late for their class, only haphazardly walking when they reached the moving stairs, scared to have been beaten to a different level as the case had changed while Holland was scrolling through last year's notes, checking little spells their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would quiz them on for their first day. The students were still quite clueless as to who the new professor might be. But Holland had a sinking feeling it would be Mad-Eye.

Nobody else was at their table, and it would seem completely mental if they'd invited an dark wizard catcher to Hogwarts so he could teach Divination. Despite the obviousness, Holland still hoped it wouldn't be him. She couldn't bare the pressure of having a family friend be her professor, it could go well but people would think there was a bias, or it could go terribly wrong and he'd write to her mum and dad and have her transfer to another school, or even have them lock her in their basement as her skills were too shameful to even bring out for institution to see.

Obviously though it had only been the first day in school, Holland had a lot on her mind. She vowed to herself to begin studying for her N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s so that reviewing just before them could be a lot easier. She wanted nothing but to make her parents proud with her results, and she knew she had to start early for her grades to be grand.

"Mental, you are! As if there's anything you don't already know." Draco laughed as he realized that their friend was studying. The remark made Pansy ooze with envy. She knew her friend had no interest in her crush, but that didn't guarantee that her crush didn't have any interest in her friend. She snaked her hand up Draco's arm, trying to catch his attention but failing. With a hasty turn of her cheek, she simply kept quiet.

"Oh, sod off." Holland laughs softly, still not able to grasp the fact that people on their year perceive her so highly. She apparently had this reputation that she was too kind, too wise, and too courageous to be a Slytherin. But Holland knew being sorted in Slytherin didn't mean she wasn't any of those things. Though before her first year, Holland hadn't even considered being a Slytherin.

Holland had always wanted to be a Gryffindor. No particular reason, it was just such an enticing house to the girl. She had been reading the books and journals her mother kept hidden in one of her drawers that Holland liked to sneak into whenever her parents weren't around. She wanted to be known to be bold, great, chivalrous, and legendary. That's how Godric Gryffindor was known, and that's how her parents were known, as well. Growing up, Holland made it her sole devotion to live up to the glory of her parents, stopping at nothing to be just as powerful and just as talented as they are. With the mere age of hers now, she knew she had a long way, but will continue to strive nonetheless.

"Holland Avery." McGonagall calls her name before her trembling feet could make their way towards the chair. The hat was placed on her curly hair, but she was still deep in thought and nerves. She snapped back to reality when the hat began to say all her qualities and quirks. Even noted that Holland was a perfect Gryffindor.

"Another Avery, eh? Perfect, top of the class mother back in her time... Most popular, strongest chaser, Quidditch captain of a father.. Both such strong, courageous individuals, and you're no different. But what's this deep in your heart? You're more than your strength, your courage.. so much ambition, plans, and dreams. I see nothing but greatness from you. What a heart and mind, indeed. Oh, to be cunning and determinant of your ambitions.. What other house to put you in other than —

SLYTHERIN!"

Holland had been confused for days. She didn't really hear any good things about the house she had just been sorted in. Her parents always explained that they'd be so proud no matter what house she'd be in, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or even Hufflepuff. But they never mentioned Slytherin. This had actually been the first time Holland had even heard of such a house. She found herself confiding in none other than Albus Dumbledore himself, asking him if she was bound to become a dark wizard and if that was the reason her parents never told her about the fourth house.

Albus said that none of those were true, and that she should never try to consider them again. He believed that the Averys had their reasons, reasons that should come from the parents themselves and not the headmaster. But to answer her first question, the sorting hat cannot predict the specific future of a person by deciding their house. The hat had merely recognized Holland's thirst, devotion, and ambition to become the great auror she saw in her parents, her greed to become great and bold had become so intense and so immaculate that her ambitiousness had overpowered her chivalry.

That being said, it did not mean that she was not fit to become a Gryffindor or any of the other houses, for that matter. It just happened that she had the strongest sense of cunningness, that it would almost be a heinous crime to say that she wasn't a Slytherin. Holland had left Dumbledore's office elated at the information of her amazing sense of ambition, but her confusion about her parents decision to leave her in the dark about the fourth house remained.

Three years had passed, and Holland never actually got to ask that question. She wrote them when she told them she was sorted in Slytherin, so she never actually had a chance to see how they had initially responded to the news.

"Dear mum and dad,

Hogwarts is even better than I had ever imagined! I couldn't even get my mind off the floating lanterns and candles, and then food magically appeared in front of me! It's great here! This is the best school ever. Though when I was sorted, the hat said I had belonged to Slytherin! Isn't that a laugh? You hadn't even told me of such a house. Yet it's where I belong after all! My room mate's name is Pansy Parkinson, she's a pureblood so I reckon you might know her parents. Can't wait to come home for Christmas holidays. I love and miss you both!

Love, Holly"

Holland then realized her parents just might not be comfortable with the fact that most of the cells in Azkaban are filled with parents whose children are from the house of Slytherin. They were not even fond of the fact that Holland had been so close with a Malfoy, always reminding her to keep safe and not trust him too much because she never knew just how much he took after his father. Her parents were always so cautious with Holland because of their job, Holland not being able to do much out the house because of it.

Holland was cut short of her reminiscing when she felt two pairs of hands grasp different parts of her limbs. "Holly!" Pansy scolds. Holland turned out to be too deep in thought to had realized she had almost walked off a moving stair. She took a peep at how far down she would have been falling if Draco and Pansy had not grabbed her.

"Have you lost it? Shite really happens when you try to study." Draco snorts, running a hand through his almost silver hair. Holland lets out a breath of relief before the three took their last turn and began to trudge up the seemingly-endless spiral stairs and finally arrive at their destination.

"Alright, what we've agreed on is that the painting wouldn't let us out because Crabbe and Goyle had left him in a great mood, alright?" Draco's stern voice echoes through the corridor before they enter the classroom.

Holland waved the two a small goodbye in which the two returned with rolling eyes as they knew she would be sitting next to the Gryffindors. The bunch were actually not late, but just in time as the glass-eyed auror was about to begin. The classroom was the same room every Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson was held, but something felt wrong. Eerie, even. Holland couldn't shake the discomfort off. She felt as if something was wrong, what it was, she couldn't tell.

"Take a seat." Moody says sinisterly, eyes on Holland. Yup, he remembered her. But there was something about his gaze that felt different. Holland was not reminded of the man that was actually allowed to carry her and jokingly throw her up in the air. His demeanor now resembled a man's who would be cursed by her parents if he even dared to lay a finger on her. Could it be him, how mad he's gotten?

Holland made sure to try and find out if her mum and dad were still even friends with him, afraid there'd been some sort of dispute, and that Moody was out to get her. But that was mad, wasn't it? Surely Dumbledore would know better than to hire some madman. Holland tried to shake out the suspicion out of her, she was probably just hungry and out of it.

"Hey. You starting your move on Cedric today?" Ron asks, interested in what she had planned for the boy. Holland decided to sit next to Ron, as Harry's and Hermione's desks were already occupied.

"Oh, you bet." Holland smirks, being reminded of the fool-proof plans she had even written down in a special book of hers. Weird as it may sound, but Holland actually had a special, leather-bound notebook that contained all, sketched and planned out schemes ready to put into play for Cedric. She'd say it was one of her most prized possessions, had it not been completely about Cedric Diggory and Cedric Diggory only.

Her friends had always been supportive of her and this yearly prank war with Cedric, all in different kinds. Ron was without a doubt the most supportive, chiming in with his own ideas, which would then be shot down by his brothers as they'd be more experienced with such things. The Weasleys were very familiar with Cedric, being in the same year as him, and traveling together to the world cup.

But seeing as they'd never forgiven him for being in the team that had cost Gryffindor one of their losses the previous year, they seemed to be more than willing to help Holland out with her schemes. Harry found the entire war amusing and fascinating, but was never actually involved in any planning nor hexing as Holland had banned him from doing so. It wasn't that Holland had no trust for him, she just knew that the boy already had such a fragile reputation, he didn't need a prank war to be added onto the list of why people should hate him.

And Hermione, she was supportive of the fact that Holland was a pure fighter, not ever backing down. But was she supportive of the actual prank war? Of course not. The girl despised trouble despite the fact that she faced it every year.

"I could never understand how the two of you can keep going at this for years." Hermione shakes her head, clearly hearing their conversation while her eyes were scanning over last year's notes, just like Holland was earlier.

"It's bloody brilliant, that's what it is." Ron counters, never seeming to agree with anything Hermione says. Harry was minding his own business, trying to look over his seat-mate to peak at the parchment Hermione was holding.

"You know what this is?" Hermione turns her head to look at Holland, Holland trying to see if Hermione was holding anything. "I think you two have this clandestine kind of infatuation with each other. If you two actually hated each other, you wouldn't even be paying attention to one another." Hermione concludes confidently, letting out the cute little bucked teeth she's always had.

Holland tried to keep the almost acidic bile in her stomach to stay where it was as it began to rise from what Hermione had just said. Her mind was brought back to when her stomach decided to go bonkers and flutter when she and Cedric had made eye contact.

"Now that's absolutely mental." Holland begins to cackle at the thought of liking someone like Cedric. She wasn't Snow White, and she didn't need a Prince Charming. She was simply too much of a troublemaker that she couldn't possibly refuse a wonderful prank war. That was it. No love, no clandestine, nothing.

"I don't know." Hermione says in a tone that seemed to say 'I know something you don't'. "The amount of effort you two put for each other just seems a bit different for me, that's all." She smiled in satisfaction at the image of Holland looking mortified before facing the professor who was still preparing his things before finally beginning the class.

"Do not make it all sappy and word it that way, Hermione!" Holland groans as Ron next to her chuckles, bringing up a hand through his bright, red hair as it shone in the early morning sunlight.

"Yeah. Word it how it really is." Harry chimes in, nodding from his desk. Holland looks over at him in gratitude once more, remembering it was he who had graciously given her the chocolate their first feast the night prior.

"Thank you." Holland reaches across her desk to Harry's so she could lay her hand on Harry's shoulder, a casual gesture that made Draco's eyes narrow. His grey eyes had been on them, never trusting a single moment Holland had alone with them.

"What you should have said was, The amount of effort you two put for each other doesn't actually seem different. It is different. It's quite obvious. You two are in love with each other!" Harry whispers quickly, as Moody was about to begin the lesson. Lucky Harry was, too. She was about to whack him with Hermione's parchment.

"Alastor Moody. Ex-auror, ministry malcontent, and your new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher." The class watches as he begins to scribble his credentials on the chalkboard messily. The students' chatter come to a halt, quietly listening to the very intimidating professor standing before them.

"I am here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end." He explains hastily. Boy, this was quite the first day. As he began to discuss, Holland thought of writing a quick note to her parents, and maybe even Dora. Just to let them know how she'd arrived and how Hogwarts was so far.

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