“You’ve got all your stuff? Not just your Quidditch stuff.”
“Yes Da,” Hollie answered, distracted. An excited first year had handed him her ferret when it had seemed interested in the rings looped through his ears. He was trying desperately to rub the things stomach, and the ferret wasn’t having it at all.
“-probably going to win the House Cup,” his Da was saying. As usual when talking about Hogwarts Quidditch, there was an air of fondness in his tone. “You’ll have to send us a picture when you do, yeah? House Cup is the first step to World Cup.”
“Yes Da,” Hollie answered again as he twisted in a circle, chasing the ferret down who had run across his shoulders to get to the other earring.
“Play a fair game though,” Oliver added sternly. “I don’t want a letter home this year, hear me?”
“Yes Da,” Hollie said. He just wanted to - he lurched towards the ferret who panicked over such a quick movement and suddenly fell backwards off of him. Hollie’s eyes went wide and he jerked forward, but before he could even attempt to do anything drastic and stupid, his Dad reached out and caught the fluff ball.
Hollie smiled sheepishly and tried not to look too guilty when Marcus turned to the first year who owned the little shit and handed it back to her with a promise that nothing bad had happened. She scurried off quickly and Hollie aimed for a brighter grin when his father turned towards him with an arched eyebrow. “Sorry?”
Oliver sighed. “Stay out of trouble.” Marcus said, “At least don’t get caught.”
Hollie grinned again and threw himself at both of his fathers, hugging them tightly. He was smaller than them, in height and stature, but somehow he had always managed to wrap them both up. “It’ll be a good year,” he said. “I promise.”
If he felt a hint of guilt as he made his way into the train, that was only because he’d never been a fan of lying. Not that he had really lied. He just hadn’t exactly expanded on the definition of the word ‘good’.
It didn’t really matter though. He tugged the collar of his shirt up around his neck a bit more and then grinned when he saw familiar faces and shoved himself into a compartment. He had stories to share.
The only thing better than Hogwarts was the new broom Hollie had gotten over the summer. It was the latest version of the Lightningbolt model, it was fast and beautiful and fit Hollie like it had been made specifically for him. And yet, somehow, he still fucking lost to Murphy.
A bet. To get out more. To make more friends. To do more living than just Quidditch.
It had been a sarcastic battle of wits at first, Murph had just been shooting the shit, but Hollie had a damn competitive streak a mile wide and before he even knew it they were trading bets and the brooms were out.
And then. And then. Murph had been distracted by a fucking butterfly. He’d flown higher to catch it, and in doing so the end of his damn broom blocked Hollie’s last shot.
At the words "Oh shit... Wait, did I win?", Hollie had demanded a rematch. But Murph, like the tenacious little fucker he was, hadn’t let Hollie back out. So there he was, somehow both excited and nervous as shit, standing inside the cramped Shrieking Shack, the scent of moondew overpowering, behind his friend that was dressed like that.
There were too many people and not enough room and someone wanted the door shut and before Hollie knew it, he wasn’t with Murphy any more. Someone handed him a drink and he took it without thinking, tasting the familiar burn of firewhiskey. That was fine.
The music was loud, the lights bright, and he did his best to make himself small as he tried to navigate his way out. He wasn’t sure who was touching him or who was tugging which parts of his clothes are who was too fucked up to even realize they weren’t his date.
“Uh, sorry,” Hollie muttered, probably too softly to be heard over the music. “My bad. Uh, ‘scuse me. Oops - didn’t mean to grab you - there. Okay. Um. I’m just gonna.”
He ran hard into the back of someone and twisted around quickly, his hands up to show that he meant no harm. Redheads. Weasley’s? The girls, he wasn’t sure what their first names were, they were Gryffindors though. “Fuck, I’m so sorry!” In fact, the group gathered there seemed to be mostly Gryffindors. Including Greyback, which surprised him. He was about to say so when he caught sight of the boy that Lyall was … almost cuddled up to.
“Hey!” Hollie said, pointing an accusatory finger at the curly haired boy. “I know you! You got me fucking detention last May for being out passed curfew. The fuck man, we were almost out for break and I got extra homework for that shit!”