The Dragon, The Lion and The Serpent

Chapter 3: Warning and Meeting

"Hermione, Hermione!" Harry and Ron cried out to her.

Hermione looked ahead toward her two best friends as they called her from the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Everyone already seemed seated and served as she quickly walked to her seat - she hadn't realised she was late.

"Gosh Hermione, you look like hell!" said Ron, between two bites of his blueberry muffin.

She scowled back as she sat across from him, although his comment didn't surprise her. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about Malfoy's unexpected kiss all night. Her feelings were torn between pleasure and guilt. Part of her was disappointed it hadn't gone any further, whilst the other part feared the consequences.

What was going to happen now? Could Malfoy possibly hate her even more?

She looked at Harry, sitting next to her, eating breakfast. It wasn't very difficult for Malfoy to get his own back. Hurting either Harry or Ron would prove easy for the new Death-Eater, and she dreaded to think what he could do to her. She could no longer count on her two friends to protect her.

Harry had grown a lot during the summer, but after Dumbledore had cut down his Quidditch practices and matches, he had lost most of his strength, not to mention the last of his confidence. Ron, on the other hand, was taller and much broader. He could have made a great rugby player, if he were a Muggle. Indeed, her red-haired friend could certainly beat Malfoy any time in a Muggle fight, but strength was not all in the wizarding world. Malfoy could easily overcome Ron in a wizard duel. In the end, Hermione knew she was on her own if Malfoy ever decided to make her his next victim, and so she preferred to keep both her friends out of all her troubles.

As she helped herself to breakfast, listening to tales of Lavender's summer love for the tenth time, she noticed Ginny enter the hall with her boyfriend, a Ravenclaw Quidditch player. Hermione didn't know him very well, and wasn't sure how deep their relationship was, but Harry's pained face seemed to answer that question. He had realised his feelings for Ginny at the beginning of sixth year and had sworn only a week ago that he was over her, officially. However, it seemed to prove more difficult than that. The young Weasley had grown a gorgeous figure and as she walked towards the table with confidence, her long silky auburn hair bounced behind her, catching most of the male population's eye.

"Hi Ginny, how are you doing?" Hermione greeted her friend, who hurriedly sat down next to Ron.

"Hermione! I've been looking for you everywhere since we left Hogsmeade! Are you alright? Malfoy didn't harm you in the end, did he? You really scared me; you didn't even come down to dinner last night!" she questioned eagerly.

Mentally kicking herself for not reassuring Ginny before, Hermione watched anxiously as Harry spat out his orange juice and Ron choked on his muffin.

"Malfoy-" Harry began.

"WHAT?" Ron spat out angrily, looking at her. "MALFOY WHAT?"

"Ron, don't make a fuss!" Ginny lectured him. "Malfoy and his Slytherins may have cornered Hermione and had the intention to harm her, but she's obviously ok."

As Ron's face became scarlet, Harry's jaw fell open in shock. Hermione held her breath.

"I'm guessing Abigail helped you out. I sent her after you when I found out -"

"Hermione did he harm you? Did that son of a bitch touch you?" Ron finally exploded.

"Ron!" she shouted back, looking around her quickly. No one seemed to have picked up on his words. Her eyes wandered to the Slytherin table, but she soon pulled away.

"Don't call him that and keep your voice down. And yes, I mean no, Malfoy didn't do anything, well he didn't have time because, well because-"

"Did Abigail get a teacher to kick Malfoy's ass?" Ginny exclaimed joyfully.

"No, in fact she - "

"Abigail!" Ron shouted once more. "Who the hell is Abigail?"

Hermione knew she had to do something to prevent Harry and Ron from discovering that Abigail was a Slytherin, or else they would probably become angry. As Ginny started opening her mouth, Hermione kicked her discreetly under the table.

"What?" she mouthed back at Hermione. Ron looked from Ginny to Hermione and back to Ginny.

"No one in particular Ron." Hermione stated. "She's just a sixth year, right Ginny?"

"Yeah right," she mumbled back, rubbing her leg under the table. Harry, still looking pale, seemed reassured and not too bothered about the mysterious Abigail, as long as his friend was fine, but Ron seemed less convinced.

"Look guys, I'd better go." Hermione started, stuffing a couple of muffins in her pockets. "Classes start in ten minutes and I've got last minute things to do before Transfigurations. You know, Head Girl stuff, so I'll see you later, yeah?"

She left the hall, ignoring the pair of cold gray eyes which were following her every move. She turned quickly around the corner, wanting to get away as quickly as possible - her knees were weak and she felt very faint all of a sudden.

Oh God, what would happen if they found out about Abigail? And what if Malfoy discovered? She didn't any more wizards knowing of her parents' behaviour.

But Hermione didn't have time to answer her questions as she suddenly collided into another student.

"Watch where you're going!" the girl hissed at Hermione, as she picked up her scattered parchments.

"Oh I'm sorry - er - Abigail!" Hermione suddenly realised as her eyes looked up at the younger student. Talk of the devil, Hermione thought, as she started helping her collect her stuff. "Look, about yesterday, I -"

"Save it Granger!" Abigail exclaimed abruptly, heading towards the Great Hall before turning around suddenly. "And next time you're with Malfoy, try to be more careful. If you get hurt, you wouldn't want to get stuck in a Muggle hospital, would you?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed at her words. "If you're off to breakfast, you've only got five minutes."

"I don't eat breakfast," she answered coldly, turning away from the Head Girl.

Hermione sighed as she watched Abigail disappear down the corridor. What was she going to do about her?

*****

Hermione reached Transfigurations just in time before the bell. She rapidly joined Harry and Ron, but as they walked to their usual places, Professor McGonagall stopped them.

"You three, follow me please. Professor Dumbledore would like a word with you," she announced.

Curious to know what could possibly be more important than class, Hermione followed McGonagall to the gargoyle statue. The professor uttered the password and the trio mounted the circular stone staircase up to Dumbledore's office.

As soon as the trio entered, Harry, obviously dreading bad news, ran up to Dumbledore's desk. "Professor, is it about the Order? Did somebody else get hurt?"

The old man looked pitifully down at his favourite student. His sparkling blue eyes softened as he watched Harry's face filled with worry. He stroked his snow-white beard softly, out of habit.

"No Harry. Do not fear. The members of the Order are all safe. It is another important matter that I wish to discuss. That is why you were sent to see me."

Three chairs suddenly appeared out of nowhere and Dumbledore urged the three students to sit down. Hermione looked around the office anxiously. Will Dumbledore warn them, yet again, against Voldemort and his Death-Eaters?

"Professor, what did you need to discuss with us?" Ron finally asked.

Hermione noticed that Dumbledore's warm smile disappeared as he looked down at them, over his half mooned spectacles.

"As you three know, the Wizarding world is no longer safe since Voldemort's return. We have been better prepared to confront him though, as Harry announced his return to me at the end of his fourth year. Unfortunately, last year Voldemort has once again proven to me that his forces outnumbered mine and that my students are no longer safe outside of Hogwarts. However, within the castle dangers lie ahead as well. You must have noticed by now that several of your fellow students have joined Voldemort's ranks. I need to warn you against them and also advise you to stay as far as possible away from them. They are dangerous and might have been given orders to harm you. Oh and I also forbid you to venture around the school's grounds by yourself."

Looking at all three students sternly, he continued. "Do I make myself clear?"

Hermione could not believe what she had just heard. Dumbledore, Hogwarts' Headmaster, was warning them against other students and was implicitly acknowledging the rumours. Now even the teachers knew that Malfoy was a Death-Eater. She cast a nervous glance at Harry and Ron, who simply nodded back to Dumbledore. Did they realise that he was talking about Malfoy?

"There is something else." he continued, pacing back and forth in front of his desk. "Now that you are in seventh year, you will encounter students with more or less magical power and knowledge. Please, beware of those who are too powerful for their young age."

Hermione felt her face flush as the Headmaster peered at her over his spectacles. She instantly guessed whom the warning was against.

"That is all."

Harry and Ron thanked the Professor and left his office quickly, but Hermione was still lost in her thoughts. When Harry called her name from the door she leapt out of her seat and hurried towards the door. Dumbledore's voice came from behind her.

"You have rightly guessed, Miss Granger."

Coming out of his office, the three walked slowly back toward Transfigurations, slightly shocked by their meeting with the Headmaster.

"Well, I think I can definitely classify Malfoy as a Death-Eater now," Ron exclaimed.

"Ron, this isn't funny. Dumbledore himself is warning us against Malfoy. You guys have to be careful now, you can't provoke him like before," Hermione stated.

"Look who's talking!" Ron retorted. "Wasn't it you, I heard, who got in trouble with him yesterday?"

Hermione glared back at him but didn't answer. This wasn't the time for her usual bickering with Ron. She looked at Harry, who didn't say a word, but continued to walk straight on. She had no idea what her best friend was thinking about, but his expressionless face worried her.

*****

It was finally time for Potions with the Slytherins. Snape had assembled the class in pairs for the day's lesson.

"... Weasley with Zabini, Head Boy with Head Girl and finally Potter, being such a celebrity you can surely make the Animagi potion by yourself," Snape announced.

Laughter rang out among the Slytherins but Hermione took no notice of it.

Head Boy with Head Girl?

She nearly had a heart attack at the words and felt her face become bright red. How could she face Malfoy after last night? What was she going to say to him?

Her legs could barely carry her as she stumbled to his desk. She sat down quietly, not daring to look him in the eye.

Placing the ingredients on the table, she realised that he was also avoiding her and she relaxed a little. Neither student was talking to each other, although they both knew what the other one was thinking.

That's fine with me. I'll just do the potion in silence and then walk away as quickly as possible.

But time wasn't on her side. It passed by much too slowly for Hermione, who finally decided to break the uncomfortable silence.

However, before she could utter a single word, Malfoy interrupted her.

"Don't talk to me now Mudblood! Just do the potion," he growled, stirring the dark green liquid anti-clockwise.

Hermione was surprised by his words but did as she was told. She looked behind her and watched Harry prepare the difficult potion as best as he could. Poor Harry, he needed so badly a good grade at his NEWT to become an Auror, but it seemed Snape had decided against helping him improve.

She turned back to her own potion, dropping in bat's wings and then stirred it three times clockwise. Snape was right after all, the potion was extremely difficult, even for seventh-years. How on earth had the Marauders succeeded in doing it? She looked up and her gaze fell on Malfoy, who added the next ingredients and then looked back at her expectantly.

"What?"

"Get the dragon leaves!" he snarled in a threatening voice.

Hermione looked back at him, raising her brow.

"Why don't you do it yourself?" she muttered, in spite of herself, before walking off to the ingredients closet.

Hermione carefully took the glass jar containing the precious dragon leaves. They were quite expensive and although they were called 'leaves', they were as fragile as crystal glass. As she brought the jar back to Malfoy's desk, she noticed that he was still glaring at her.

"You think I can't hear your muttering Mudblood?" he said dangerously.

"Stop calling me that! And here, take the damn dragon leaves!" she exclaimed in return, taking out the leaves from the jar and handing them over to him.

"I don't think so."

Confused, Hermione looked up at him. Steely silver eyes bored into her and before she knew it, Malfoy took the dragon leaves and dropped them purposely at Hermione's feet.

She watched helplessly as the leaves hit the stone floor and shattered into hundreds of small shards.

"Miss Granger, have you gained some of Longbottom's stupidity or have the words 'fragile' and 'expensive' simply disappeared from your vocabulary!" Snape shouted from behind his desk.

Hermione looked up incredulously at Snape and started to protest, but she knew there was no point whatsoever. The potions master had probably seen Malfoy drop the leaves, but he would never accuse his favorite student. Malfoy was a genius for Snape and, no matter what, the Slytherin Prince would always obtain the highest grade.

She glared back at Malfoy, who simply cocked his head, amused.

Cunning git!

Snape would clearly give them the usual four-hour detention, which he himself never attended. If that were the case, then Hermione would soon have a long tête-à-tête with the Slytherin devil in an empty dungeon.

"I am profoundly sorry to impose Granger's presence on you, Draco, but both of you will be starting the potion all over again tomorrow night. I trust you to manipulate the dragon leaves with caution instead of Miss Granger. "

As soon as Snape was finished, a loud explosion was heard from the back of the class. Hermione turned around to find Harry covered top to bottom in his 'potion'.

"And yet again the famous Harry Potter is seeking for attention. Very well then. I'll be seeing you tonight for detention, Potter. Eight O'clock sharp," Snape sneered.

Hermione could feel Harry's anger grow inside of him but he did nothing. Nowadays Harry hardly ever confronted a teacher, Hermione noticed. He seemed to have simply given up sticking up for himself.

She turned back to her potion as the class was being dismissed and busied herself with putting the spare ingredients away whilst thinking about tomorrow night. What was Malfoy going to do to her this time? Hadn't Dumbledore warned her, only a few hours ago, not to get into this sort of situation?! And this time, no one would be there to save her.

As she continued to gather her parchment and quills she felt a familiar presence breathing down her neck.

"I'll be seeing you tomorrow night, Granger," Malfoy whispered to her.

Sensing him so close to her made Hermione shiver, but not from fear: if he whispered in her ear again she would surely faint from feeling so weak. Walking out of the classroom, she ordered her mind to forget last night's kiss once and for all, seeing how Malfoy hated her even more for it; but her body wouldn't let her.

*****

(Abigail's POV)

Abigail woke up the next day with a painful headache. She hadn't got much sleep. Unfortunately her room shared only a thin wall with Pansy Parkinsons' room and last night the Slytherin girl had obviously had a good time.

Crawling out of bed Abigail briefly wondered who Pansy got lucky with this time and opened the window to let her owl in.

She received yet another letter from her father asking her to befriend Draco Malfoy, which infuriated her.

Why does he keep asking me this? Something's definitely up!

The letter had also briefly mentioned the Ministry, which, for the fourth time, had refused to let her mother leave the Muggle hospital. This only made matters worse.

In a moment of rage, Abigail stormed around the room to get her clothes, determined to apparate to Malfoy Manor and give her father a piece of her mind.

Realising that disapparating from Hogwarts would not be so easy, Abigail, still furious, ripped a piece of parchment out from her drawer and wrote frantically on it.

Dear Father,

Are you out of your mind? The Malfoys! Everybody knows that they are Death Eaters! Father, we are forbidden to take sides on this war, remember? You should know that by now! What would Mother say? As for Draco Malfoy, of course I will not befriend that sadistic bastard, nor will I let you stay with the Malfoys forever. I am two inches away from apparating to the Malfoy Manor right now to bring you home, even if I have to drag you-

She continued her race on paper for another few minutes before finally ripping it to shreds. She couldn't send that to her Father, she owed him more respect than that and besides, she was angry with him for something he wasn't responsible for. Also, knowing Lucius Malfoy by reputation, he would probably read the letter before it even reached her father.

Sighing deeply, Abigail pulled out a new piece of parchment. At least she had to warn him from the Imperio curse, if it wasn't already too late.

Dear Father,

Be careful of the Malfoys. Remember what Mother taught you about protecting yourself from curses. I have met Draco. He seems -

She paused.

-determined to know more about me, or more likely about our family. Please write to me soon. I hope your stay with the Malfoys will not last too long. I miss you.

Abigail.

Satisfied with the letter, she immediately sent her owl to deliver it. The stubborn snowy owl had no intention of making yet another long flight but Abigail knew how to convince her with a few mice.

Next, she headed for the showers.

*****

Although her roommates had all left for breakfast, Abigail heard distinctive noises as she stepped out of the steamy room, a towel wrapped around her. She reached her bed to find none other than Miss Pansy Parkinson rummaging through her desk.

"By Merlin, what do you think you're doing?" Abigail yelled.

The other girl turned around quickly, hiding a few papers in her cloak, which Abigail did not seem to notice. She was too angry with Pansy for the invasion, and at the same time too embarrassed to be seen with only a towel wrapped around her body.

"Hello to you too, Abigail." Pansy coolly answered, trying her best to look innocent. "I simply came to see how you were doing. I haven't seen you at breakfast for ages. On a diet, are you?"

Abigail's face turned crimson. "That's none of your business!" she spat out, feeling her body shake in anger. "And now if you don't mind, I'd like some privacy to get dressed! So, in other words, get out!"

"Don't be such a prude, Miss I-think-I'm-so-cool-by-changing-my-name-to-Serpent! There are only girls here!" Pansy retorted haughtily.

"Well, judging by the noises you were making last night, I'd say you're wrong! Who was it this time, Pansy? Who did you contaminate now?" she asked sarcastically.

Abigail had hit a nerve. Although Pansy was the worst of sluts, she hated being called one, even implicitly. "Oh please! We all know you're not the immaculate virgin yourself Abby!" she retorted, venom in her voice.

She watched with delight, as colour suddenly drained from Abigail's face and her jaw dropped open, but she quickly recovered.

"Get out of my room!" she hissed, her dangerous voice scaring the other girl, who instantly backed away from her.

However, due to a problematic lack of brains, Pansy carried on.

"I learnt it from him last night in bed, you know," she said maliciously, smirking, whilst making her way to the door.

Abigail's dark eyes glared with even more fury as she listened to Pansy's words.

"If only you'd put in more effort Abby, he wouldn't have come crawling back to me. Shame, isn't it?"

She then ran for her life as Abigail quickly lunged for her wand to hex her, but she wasn't quick enough and the spell crashed against the door. Pansy was already out of view.

"Aaaargh!" Abigail cried out in frustration. She couldn't believe it was him that she had heard last night with Parkinslut! Her day couldn't get any worse now.

Getting dressed quickly in her robes and then reaching for a cigarette packet hidden in her drawer, Abigail stepped out of the dungeons and took the first available way out of the castle.

She skirted the edge of the castle and made her way to the lake, where she sat down and lit up. Lying on her back she thought of the morning's events.

Why was Pansy in her room? No way could it be out of concern!

She remained lost in her thoughts for a while until she suddenly felt the sun being blocked from her face.

"Miss Serpent, smoking is strictly forbidden at Hogwarts, even for you!"

*****

Abigail reached McGonagall's office at eight o'clock on the dot. The professor had indeed caught her smoking and given her detention, and Abigail supposed it was a fair deal, as McGonagall had caught her red-handed.

The Slytherin girl had decided to change from her robes into jeans and a sweater, as wearing a skirt and tights all day was extremely annoying. She had also noticed that her jeans were too big for her and her sweater seemed to have grown a couple of sizes, but she thought nothing more of it.

She knocked on the Transfiguration office door and walked in. She had dreaded the detention all day, as McGonagall had always expressed a strong resentment towards her. She was a Slytherin after all, whilst McGonagall was head of Gryffindor and Abigail annoyed her even more by her precise knowledge of most Transfigurations spells.

Stepping into the office, she watched as McGonagall stood up from her desk chair and looked down at her student with concealed contempt, which Abigail sensed all the same.

"I see you are on time. I wish it were the case with my classes. Follow me then."

Abigail followed silently, as she was lead to the trophy room. When McGonagall stopped, a small smile crept on her thin lips.

"Wait here please. I shall not be long."

Entering cautiously the room, Abigail looked around. The walls were hidden by glass cases, which encased dozens - no hundreds of different trophies. She had only been in the room once before, whilst touring Hogwarts in her first year. At least now she had a vague idea of what her detention would be...

Suddenly, McGonagall's distinctive footsteps were heard, along with others. She turned around to see the professor standing at the door with another student.

Harry Potter.

"Mr Potter will be joining you in your detention, Miss Serpent, as Professor Snape is unable to hold his detention. I expect this room to be sparkling clean when I return in three hours time, not a speck of dust to be seen. I have not seen Hogwarts' trophies shining for years, such a pity. With your combined efforts, I am sure the room should return to its legendary radiance."

McGonagall watched both students sternly, but Harry looked indifferently back at the walls. He probably wouldn't have cared less if McGonagall had suddenly ordered them to dance naked in front of her.

"Very well then. You shall find everything you need in the closet. Good luck," the professor finished before she left the room.

"Well, this is going to be fun!" Abigail mumbled as she opened the closet and took out the proper equipment.

She tied her long hair back in a messy bun, allowing random strands to fall back in her face. She then turned to hand cloths and cleaning products to Harry, who simply stared back at her, still expressionless.

She looked up at him and watched him closely for the first time. The famous Harry Potter was standing in front of her and of course, he intrigued her, as he did everyone else. Although he was tall, his body seemed frail. He did not possess his friend's, Ronald Weasley, bulkiness, or Malfoy's stature. His body definitely showed signs of distress and fatigue but still, Harry was quite good-looking. He had black raven hair, like Abigail, which was messy but looked good on him. His round boyish features had given way to a square jaw and clean cut features making his face much more agreeable.

The only problem was Harry's eyes. His once shiny, emerald eyes had become empty over the past year and they often held fear within them.

I guess confronting Voldemort and Death Eaters does that to you.

Deciding to make an effort and wipe the pitiful look off his face, she spoke to him again, as she opened the glass windows and started scrubbing the first trophy.

"You know, I've also got a lot of time to kill here and since we're all alone, there's no harm in talking."

Harry grabbed the next trophy, covering it with some blue magical metal polisher that Abigail had never encountered before.

"I guess so."

"My name's Abigail," she greeted him with a friendly smile, "I'm a sixth year."

"I'm Harry," he answered slowly, still cleaning away.

"Harry Potter, right? Nice to meet you. My mother use to tell me stories about you."

"Really? My parents are dead," he replied bluntly.

His voice was dull, as if used to hearing her kind of small talk everyday, and his attitude didn't surprise her. Everyone from the wizarding world would have loved a chance to talk with the famous Harry Potter!

It was best to change the subject quickly or the conversation wouldn't last much longer.

Taking out her wand from her back pocket, Abigail grinned at him and spoke up, breaking Harry away from his reverie.

"What do you say if we used a little magic? After all, Professor McGonagall didn't defend us from doing so."

Debating with himself a few seconds, Harry happily dropped his cloth.

"Ok."

Pointing her wand to the cloths and products, she ordered "Nettum!" and they suddenly came to life, floating in the air and scrubbing away at the trophies.

"That's better," she said breathing out heavily and sitting down against the wall.

Harry followed, sitting down beside her. "Why are you here?" he asked, suddenly curious.

"Excuse me?"

"Why are you in detention?" he repeated.

Abigail crossed her legs as she answered. "I was caught smoking. And you'd think the wizarding world wouldn't care, huh? Guess not, as McGonagall went bonkers at me, even though I kept telling her that I know a counter curse for it."

Her voice suddenly stopped as she noticed Harry's eyes grow wide. "You know a counter curse for smoking? You mean, like smoking without damaging your health or something?"

"It's just a spell a found in a book at home," she answered a little too quickly. She didn't want to bring Harry's attention on the particular book. "I could teach it to you, if you wanted?"

"No, it's ok, I probably wouldn't remember it anyway."

He paused.

"So, are you Muggle-born?"

She snorted as she heard the question. A Muggle-born? If he only knew...

"No, not at all, I'm actually quite the opposite."

Harry's face fell into a scowl. "Oh, so you're a Pureblood?"

Her face fell into a frown and her eyes narrowed at him. "Don't look so revolted! Pureblood doesn't mean Death Eater!" she growled, but then she noticed him shudder at the word and softened.

He had suffered too long from that twisted Voldemort.

"Besides, aren't your friends Ronald and Ginny Purebloods too?"

His eyes lightened up at the mention of their names. "You know them?"

"Ginny, sort of," she shrugged, watching the trophies being polished.

Harry bewildered by her answer fell silent but immediately looked back up at her. "Hey, wait a minute, you're the one Ginny was talking about this morning. Apparently you saved Hermione from the ferret!"

Abigail had never heard such a venomous hiss as the one Harry used to describe Malfoy. She had heard about them being enemies and all, but she had always believed most rumours had been exaggerated. His insult, on the other hand, made her laugh, as she playfully tucked back a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Is that what the Gryffindors call him? I think 'white boy' is a good nickname for him! It only makes me laugh though, because the others are too scared of him now."

It didn't seem to make Harry laugh either, which made her uneasy. She watched him as he stared back down at the floor intently. There was obviously something on his mind, but he seemed to be debating whether to voice it or not.

Finally, as she was about to ask him what the matter was, he opened up.

"So, how do you manage to stand up to Malfoy, these days? Haven't you heard? He's a Death Eater now."

His angry green eyes had given way to fear and anxiety. Sitting next to him even made Abigail nervous. She could not believe how much the Boy Who Lived had changed over the years.

Huddling her knees to her chest, she rested her arms on them before she spoke. "Well, to be honest, I'm not afraid of Voldemort, although there's much to fear."

She noticed Harry's surprised look as she spoke out the Dark Lord's name, but ignored it and ploughed on.

"It's easy giving in to your fear Harry. That's how he obtains his power through the wizarding world's fear. Fighting back and being courageous is the only way the light side will win against him."

She paused, looking back down to the ground. "At least, that's the theory."

Harry reflected on what the sixth-year girl had said and frowned. She knew he didn't believe her, especially after everything that had happened.

"That's what I thought too until I lost too many friends. Last year, it was - it was -"

But he couldn't finish his sentence. The event was too recent for him and she knew it. She did not like talking about the student massacre either.

"I know," she breathed, searching his eyes, "you don't have to explain yourself to me. It's easy to understand how you feel."

Her dark brown eyes stared deeply into emerald as she answered him.

"You may smile, but in your eyes, your sorrow shows," she spoke calmly, holding his enticing emerald gaze and she finally noticed the glimpse of a smile on Harry's face.

"Same goes for you, Abigail," he stated.

At his words, she looked away as if he had seen through her soul.

This is bad! He shouldn't be noticing these things.

And why was she opening up to him anyway? Why did she feel like she wanted to help him?

"We all have secrets locked away, Harry. That's mine. It's something no one should ever experience."

"So you and I are obviously alike. Except that you were brought up as a Pureblood."

Funny you should say that, Abigail thought, suddenly remembering what Malfoy had previously told her. It bothered her that Harry referred to her as a Pureblood again though. He had even scowled again as he said it. She leaned closer to him, facing him to show her disapproval.

"You seem kind of stuck on that point. You know, it's not because I'm a Pureblood, as you say, that I hate Muggles and Muggle-borns. I don't exactly hate Muggles, I even prefer some of their inventions; I am wearing their clothes in case you hadn't noticed," she stated pointing to her jeans.

Harry crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "But..." he looked at her expectantly.

Abigail looked at him uneasily. She didn't like admitting her weaknesses, even if it was to Harry Potter. "But, well - well they scare me," she answered in a whisper, looking down at her hands.

Harry lifted an eyebrow at her. He didn't seem to believe her. "Scare you? Muggles scare you, when you just said you didn't fear Voldemort?"

His sarcasm was starting to get to her. She fought the urge to smirk at him like any other Slytherin would do. She didn't like people making fun of her; she didn't have the patience for it either.

"You don't need incantations to shoot a bullet or drop a bomb Harry." she said dangerously. "We wizards just don't have the same weapons! That's why I fear Muggles, and that's why Voldemort is such a threat to the wizarding world and must be stopped. If he declares war on Muggles, he will expose us to their world and no doubt our kind will be exterminated."

Big green eyes stared blankly back at her. "I'd never seen things that way."

The expression on his face made her laugh lightly. "Welcome to Abby's point of view, my friend. But don't worry, I'm not a Seer, this is just a theory I have. Unfortunately, it will never be considered, as the wizarding community does not give the Muggles enough credit..."

*****

Their conversation lasted nearly three hours before they decided to finish the detention themselves. Picking up the cloths, they scrubbed the remaining trophies as McGonagall walked back in, looking immensely satisfied, though she would not have admitted it if you'd asked her.

As soon as she left the room, Abigail looked at Harry, barely containing her laughter. He joined in, showing off his white teeth.

"I can't believe she thought we cleaned every single trophy ourselves!"

"I know! If she only knew, she'd probably have our necks for this!" she joined in, bending over with laughter, her hair falling back in her face. She tried to recall the last time she had laughed like this or had such an interesting conversation, but she couldn't.

Harry finally braced himself and smiled at her. "It was nice meeting you, Abby. It's weird that I never met you before. What house do you belong to again?"

Her face blanched at his question. "Oh, look at the time," she replied almost too quickly, "it's nearly midnight and I have to get up early tomorrow."

She hated lying like this to him, but she had spent such a pleasant evening with him that she couldn't bring herself to admit she was a Slytherin.

Not just yet.

It was tough being a Slytherin. After all, none of the other students or teachers trusted them and the reputation only got worse since Voldemort returned.

"I'll see you around, Harry," she continued, "and try staying out of trouble next time."

"Yeah, try not to get caught next time!"

He paused uneasy.

Once again, a look of debate fell upon his face. "Would you - would you, by any chance, like to watch the Gryffindor's Quidditch practice, Friday night? I'm only asking because you said you were interested in the game and -"

"Of course, why not," she interrupted, smiling at his unease.

She pulled loose strands once again out of her face and this time noticed Harry watching her smiling.

"I'll be there. Goodnight," and with a brief wave at the door, Abigail walked out of the trophy room and along the dark corridor.

"Bye," Harry called after her.

She hurried down to the dungeons, joining some fellow sixth-year Slytherins in the common room, chatting: something she hadn't done in a long time. A big smile appeared on her face that night as her mind kept running over her more than pleasant detention time with Harry Potter