Backfire

"Are you sure about this?" Holland asks George, her palms getting sweaty as a result of her nerves getting the best of her. Her heart was racing, and she still couldn't believe the words that had left her best friend's mouth. It was 7 in the evening, and the two were huddled up in the corner of the corridor right next to the giant doors of the Great Hall. George waited for Holland right out side the Slytherin common room in hopes that they could walk to dinner together because he had something he really wanted to tell her. There they were, opposite of each other and both uncomfortably shifting at the tension.

"Absolutely sure. I can definitely handle it." The side of George's face was illuminated by the side of the window. The corridor was dark despite the abundance of lit torches on the walls every few meters. Holland couldn't help but notice how beautiful the image before her was. The two had been the best of friends for years and have been spending time with each other almost every hour of every day, but Holland never got used to how perfectly crafted this boy was. She could stare at his face for hours, not caring that she's already memorized every crevice of it. She'd always found herself lost in his eyes, his little freckles, and his grown out red hair. These boys really must have enjoyed growing out their hair, Holland thought to herself, realizing majority of her friends never bothered to get a haircut the previous summer.

"Don't you think I can?" Holland was snapped out of her trance, the boy in front of her looking at her expectantly. What were they talking about again? Oh hell, that's right. How could she forget? George was waiting for her answer, hurt evident in his voice, and his eyes drooped with sadness. His eyes were staring deep into hers, heart beating just as loud and just as hard as hers, the information he shared scaring him just as much. Holland looked down, trying to figure out how she could possibly express how she'd truly felt without hurting his feelings. For sure, the boy wouldn't take it so well. One of George's least favorite things were feeling as if people didn't believe in him, every prank he'd done, always pulled through because Fred and Holland were there to tell him they knew that it was going to be brilliant.

"No, Georgie. That's not it at all. I don't know if I could handle it." She looks down as she feels panic course through her veins. She began to imagine a series of possible tasks and scenarios this idiot could be in if the plan would even work. Dumbledore said it himself, this was not for the faint of heart. And George may have a heart of a lion, but Holland still couldn't grasp the idea of it. Swimming in an deep, bottomless, lake. With serpents. What if champions were charmed to not be able to swim well? Then what? What if George doesn't make it? The idea of a bloodied, not-breathing George made Holland's chest began to heave in panic. "I thought you two were just kidding, and even then I was in no way okay with it!" Holland says. He was sure the news would excite her somehow. She was always so expressive with how she found the twins so brilliant and courageous, he thought she would think they'd easily win the cup with no hesitation. By the look on Holland's face, he knew she was a second away from crying. It didn't take much for Holland to cry, but George never liked it when she did. "If it does work, I'd be happy and I'd be even prouder if that's possible! But what the hell am I going to do if I lose you?" She asks softly, George began to panic as he began to articulate his next sentence, making sure it would calm her down.

"But I'm not going to be alone, I'm going out there with Freddie!" He tries to make her feel better, holding her arms. Holland tried to take deep breaths. Was this really happening? Why was this happening? The twins didn't need eternal glory, with the amount of people that loved their little pranks and personalities, people would know better and say they already had it. She thought back to their candy testing days just a few days before the summer holidays this year, they'd been doing so well on their own.

"Is that supposed to help?" Holland yells in disbelief. She could barely wrap her head around the idea of letting one enter, but both of them? "That's double the loss for me, you git!" Holland shoves his shoulder. Why were her best friends so brilliant, yet so unbelievably daft at the same time? George felt hopeless as he knew nothing he would say could ever make her feel any different about him and his twin's plan. The two had decided to try and join the Triwizard Cup, even though they were underage. Being the fantastically dimwitted twits they were, they knew they could somehow concoct their way into putting their names in the cup. The two could never last a day without mischief, they knew life was all about risk, and what could possibly be riskier than entering an extremely dangerous contest you're not even allowed to enter? What was that? That's right, nothing.

"Please don't do this," She whines, feeling ridiculous for behaving like a little girl, pouting and a few moments away from stomping her foot. Holland no longer knew what else she could do, there was no possible way for her to even allow the boys to creat the aging potion, let alone drink it before jumping in that age line and putting their names in the cup. Holland knew Dumbledore, there was just no way he couldn't have seen this coming, especially after 5 years having students like those two in his school. George felt like he wanted to whine himself. He had already imagined victoriously trudging through challenges and making his friends proud, but Holland's response to his news made him feel as if he were a tiny gazelle about to walk through a pride of lions. Holland was supposed to tell him how she knows he'd be the winner before he could even write his name down on the paper he'd put in the cup! That's how Holland always was. Why was she suddenly so different?

"Holly, if Freddie and I do make it out there, we'll win every task, we'll win it for you. We intend on giving you the cup. Don't tell me you don't think we've decided on doing this without thinking of you?" George holds her face in his hands and smiles, breathing in relief as he somehow managed to find the right words to say. A group of Ravenclaws emerged from the dark to their left from the shadowy corridor as they were about to enter the hall, their chatter coming to a stop before giving a confused glance at the two. It was the perfect stance, Holland was crying, and George had his hands cupping her cheeks, the two looking like they were about to kiss.

"Move along," George raised his eyebrows, not letting go of Holland's face. The younger Ravenclaws each shared a look before reluctantly entering the hall.

"Maybe once we make it to our fourth year." One mutters to the other solemnly as the door closes. Holland stares after them, yearning to be inside the Great Hall instead of where she was right now with the conversation at hand. As they'd entered, another redhead exits. Fred.

"Well? You don't think me and Freddie could win you that cup?" George asks hopefully. Fred didn't even need to ask what they were talking about, already knowing what was going on.

"You don't seriously think we'd wuss and bleed out so easily, do you?" Fred chimes in, standing next to George and placing his hands atop of George's putting more pressure on the poor girl's face. Holland feels their hands push even more in a form of comfort, George just wanted to hear some words of encouragement from the person that mattered most to him.

"I don't think you're going to want to hear me answer that honestly." Holland says, blinking at the two. Though Fred was outright guffawing, George let out a defeated sigh.

"I'm sorry, Holly. You're scared, but we are, too. But you can't change our mind anymore." George shakes his head. Fred nodding beside him.

"Yeah, Holly. We've even thought of making you a shirt to wear! Go, Fred, the better looking one! on the front, and Go, George, the alright looking one! on the back." Fred whines, clearly not picking up how serious the two really were.

"Look, you already know how brilliant I think you guys are! But this is barking mad! It's insane!" Holland was practically losing her mind at this point. She just wanted to make sure the boys don't go through with this. "Dumbledore even said you stand alone. George Fabian, I can't even bring myself to imagine what it would look like for either of you to be out there alone and I don't ever want to find out! You too, Fred Gideon!" Holland began to go ballistic, saying everything that was on her mind, desperate to have the twins change theirs. "I'm sorry, but who told you that you were so unstoppable?" She asks in misery, already regretting it before George could even muster up the most quiet reply.

"You did." Those two words were enough to break Hollad's heart, Holland stiffens, bringing up a hand to her face in realization. Fred had now grown completely quiet, knowing Holland didn't mean it, and knowing it hurt George more than she knew.

"Georgie, no." Holland exhales, carefully forming her next sentence. "George, you know that's not—" She tried walking to him, but stops in her tracks once George had spoken up.

"Mate, mate, just give her a listen." Fred pleads, stopping his brother from walking away from them.

"Not what, not what you meant? I think you've made it clear, Holland. You don't think we can do it." George cuts off, ignoring his brother. "You think everything's just a joke to us." He mutters before storming off to the Great Hall alone. Holland knew she had to keep talking to him before it becomes a full-blown argument, so she followed suit. The two have had arguments before, and they were never pretty. Holland would refuse to talk to George for weeks, and there'd be times George would do the same.

"Come on, Holly. Before the boy transfigures to a beast." Fred jokes quietly, referring to how cranky George gets when reaching a certain point of anger.

Holland took a few seconds to collect herself before entering the Great Hall after George. She pauses for a moment the second she entered the hall, not minding the other witches and wizards staring at her as she looked for her friend. Holland exhales in anticipation as her eyes land on the twin she was looking for, and began to stride quickly towards him in the most discreet way she could. She knew she obviously looked like she was crying, and she didn't need to make a scene in the hall like she had years before. As she was walking, Cedric Diggory was minding his own business and enjoying his evening with his friends.

"Hey, Cedric. You best keep your eyes on your girl Avery. She looks like she's been crying." A younger student named Dustin says. The feud between the two was definitely a topic the entire school knew about. There had even been occasional bets between groups of friends and houses on whose prank would be better than the other, and there were also unofficial forums and clubs supporting rumors about how the two do such things to hide their love for each other— Harry and Hermione probably being the founders of such clubs. But students knew better than to spread it until it would reach the professors. Once they find out, it's all over for the two, and the entire school.

"Yeah, her and Weasley must have been fighting." Another younger student says, a girl this time. It was normal for such students to try and bring up Holland to Cedric, in hopes of befriending the boy. As Cedric was no snob, he responded to every single one of them.

"Oh, I don't know. That's not really my business—" He scratches his head. They had this little prank war, but he didn't exactly want Holland to feel miserable when it came to real-life things. He silently wished for the students to leave him alone, eyeing the plate of heavenly potatoes right before him.

"I don't think they've been fighting. Clara from Ravenclaw said she saw the two snogging just before coming inside." A black-haired girl chimes in, hands toying with the necklace she was wearing. Cedric's face begins to scrunch up in discomfort, no longer interested in the meal he was so keen on devouring. The sentence was spoken for the two students, but her eyes were batting at Cedric. "Anyway, is it true you plan on entering the tournament, Cedric? I just know you'll win, for sure." She squeaks, smiling sweetly at him.

"Oh, I don't know about that." He chuckles nervously, apprehensive of his decision to join the tournament. His eyes scan the hall in search for Holland, and once his eyes land on her, it was obvious. The girl really had been crying, and she still was.

-

"You know I've done nothing but shown how much I believe in you two! But need I remind you, you're underage." Holland explains and all George could do was stare at the ground. He felt as if he had just been slapped in the face when he realized that Holland didn't have faith in him, after all. George was too upset to respond. Fred watching from afar, not knowing how to chime in.

"You know we love you, Holly." Fred says comfortingly, holding her hand. Holland gave him a sad smile, at least Fred had been nicer about the situation.

"Forget it," Holland was officially upset. The hurt, anger, and frustration all piling like a hippogriff standing on her shoulders. She wanted to leave. She didn't want to speak to anybody. She didn't want to be seen. "Ignore me. Do whatever you want." She lets her shoulders drop in defeat. "Goodnight, Freddie." She gives him a small smile and a pat on the head before leaving. What a great way to start the year. Hermione wanted to chase after the girl, deciding against it when Harry and Ron held her back, knowing they all would not want to face the wrath of an upset Holland.

-

It had been a rainy Tuesday, Holland and Draco had been scheming in the library. Most of the students were in the hall, watching as the older years were dropping their names in the goblet. Draco and Holland decided they didn't need to watch it as it was the perfect time to get planning on how they were going to bring down Cedric Diggory. The two were intent on having Holland be Cedric's tutor for the Triwizard tournament. Draco seemed fresh, like he'd actually bathed. Holland on the other hand, looked awful. She hadn't brushed her hair, nor slept or even showered, and her last meal was lunch the previous day. Fighting with George had never stressed her out like this before, but she needed to keep the plan for Cedric going. She was also worried, who knows what would happen to the two when Dumbledore or any other authority were to find out they had tried to enter their names despite being underage? They couldn't get arrested, could they? Expelled, even?

"What if we cast the Imperius curse on him?" Holland blankly asks herself, earning a look from Draco. The two were the only people other than the ghost of Madame Pince in the library, the only sounds coming from rain dropping on the windows, crackling from the fireplace, and the sound of books being magically moved from one shelf to another. Holland let her pupils bounce from one repositioned book to another, easily losing her focus as she'd been drained of all her energy.

"Yeah, I'd love to see you explain to your parents as to why you've landed yourself in Azkaban." Draco snorts. The two were seated in the middle of two shelves, in a secluded area with no windows nor actual chairs just a few steps before the restricted section. They were just sitting on the soft, velvety floor. Holland felt herself most relaxed in the library, she thought there was no better nor more therapeutic smell than fresh rolls of parchment and non-scented candles like the library. Holland always believed that the library was truly a gem everyone had been privileged to be able to experience and freely go to.

"I think I've got it." Draco mumbles, blinking from the dazed off trance he was in. "Just how badly do want to become his little tutor?" He asks the mess of a friend he was facing, eyes softening for a moment in sympathy, then quickly hardening as he remembered who had even tried to make her feel such a way.

"I never liked him." Draco said to a crying Holland the night she'd retreated back to their common room that night George and her had fought.

"Do you not know me? This is the best one we've thought of ever. I'm very close to doing almost anything." Holland says as-matter-of-factly, brown eyes boring into grey ones to prove how seriously she was taking this plan.

Draco's train of thought was interrupted. "Anything?" He asks in a suggestive tone, earning a smack on the head with two rolled pieces of parchment. "Right, sorry."

"Well? Continue!" Holland tells him, waiting for what he was trying to say, the sound of the rain hitting the windows becoming louder.

"You're going to need to get in trouble. But not just you. Both of you. The professors already know you two have it bad for the other—" Holland shook her head.

"Please rephrase that sentence."

"Snape and Sprout already know you two have a history of hexing each other." He starts. "If they find out the two of you have been back on the spells and pranks, they'll go mad! They'll have to find a way to make you bond or some stupid, noble Hufflepuff-Gryffindor shite like that." He smirks. "But you know what that means, right? You'll actually have to put a stop to all of this once they find out."

"You're brilliant, Draco Malfoy!" You hit his shoulder repeatedly in excitement. "It'd be a pain, but not after I get the last laugh. He won't know what'd hit him." She smirks, laughing at how embarrassing it'd be for the most adored boy in the school to make a fool of himself during the tournament.

"What, like it's difficult?" Draco scoffs, trying to fight the smile off his face, not bothering to fight off the urge to roll his eyes as they'd been hushed by Madame Pince once more, though.

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