Abby yawned. She had been waiting up for what seemed like an eternity, trying to keep herself awake with games and toys, while still trying to not wake up her sister asleep in the bed next to her, or to call attention to herself from her mother. She was waiting up for her father, who was supposed to return home from a business trip tonight. Her mother always told her not to, but her father always loved it when she came running down the hall and into his arms the moment he walked in the door.
But he had never been this late. A shift in the bed above her told her that her sound-sleeping sister was actually awake.
"Sister . . ." said Aggie, her eyes open wide with tiredness. "Sister, is Daddy home yet . . .?"
Abby shook her head, watching as two flying Quidditch figures swooped past each other. Aggie yawned, then settled back into her bed. Abby continued to watch as her toys dove and circled inches off the floor in front of her. Suddenly, a small sound from outside her door caught Abby's attention. Slowly, she stood and opened the door just a crack, pressing her ear against it to hear better.
There were voices. Voices were drifting up the stairs and into her bedroom, and they were voices Abby wasn't sure she recognized. Cautiously, she opened the door a little wider to hear better. Then she felt something small and speedy shoot past her leg. Her Quidditch figure!
As quietly as she could, Abby raced down the hall after the thing. It had a head start, and was zooming faster than she'd seen it move before. She caught her breath as she rounded a corner and realized that she was almost to the stairs. Moments before the little figure could zip down into the foyer, Abby dove and slid along the hardwood floor on her stomach, her hands closing around the little thing just in time. Miraculously, the people downstairs didn't hear her.
". . . terribly distressing, yes . . ."
Abby was still, hearing the note of sadness in the voices. Where was her father? From her perch on the landing Abby could just make out her mother's bushy brown hair, and it was her voice that spoke next.
"Well . . . when will we know? He . . . the children will want to know where he . . ."
"Mrs. Weasley," said another voice, male, stern, "there is no doubt about it. I'm terribly sorry, but your husband is dead."
Abby's eyes flew open as she sat straight up in bed. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the thin drapes hanging in the window, and trying to get rid of the remnants of the dream. Ten years had passed since her father had died, and instead of fading, her dreams became more and more vivid. With a groan, she banged on the wireless next to her bed, turning on the Network. Sighing heavily, she shifted the blankets from her legs and slithered out onto the floor.
She opened her door to the usual morning stampede of her brothers chasing each other down to breakfast. Without bothering to dress, she wrapped her arms around herself and trudged out into the hallway. She had made it to the top of the stairs before meeting anyone.
"'Morning, Abby-gail," trilled Aggie, falling into step with her twin. Abby rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Good morning," she muttered. Still not fully out of her dream, Abby groped for the banister as she tried not to tumble down the stairs. She could hear her brothers laughing at the breakfast table in the kitchen and tried to brighten up. But it was a lost cause, as her sister's early morning chatter was enough to put anyone in a foul mood.
"Guess what I dreamed about last night," she said, skipping down the stairs a step behind Abby. "Or should I say, who I dreamed about last night. Give up? Julian Malfoy, can you believe it? Of course, I didn't want to dream about him, but there he was, just invading my personal thoughts." She giggled, then turned sour. "Aren't you shocked and appalled?" she asked, to which Abby gave no response. Aggie frowned. "Well, I would have thought that having Julian Malfoy in your sister's subconscious would at the very least make you a bit concerned . . ."
"What you do on your mental time is your business, Agatha," said Abby as she stepped through the doorway and into the kitchen. Elbowing aside a few of her brothers, Abby took her usual place at the table: next to her younger brother Gavin and across from Aggie. She stared at her empty plate for a moment, then let her head fall down onto it, prompting laughter from Gavin beside her.
"Rough night?" asked her eldest brother, Fletcher, from the end of the table.
"You have no idea," she said, not bothering to lift her head.
"Okay, Weasleys, breakfast," came a voice from the other side of the room. Abby picked up her head as eggs, bacon, toast, and apple juice flew through the air and landed perfectly in their proper place. Abby's mother jokingly blew on the end of her wand before tucking it into her robes and sitting in her place opposite Fletcher. All six occupants of the table dove into the food, and the atmosphere was suddenly silenced. Mrs. Weasley laughed.
"It never ceases to amaze me that the only way to get all five of you to sit in silence is to place food in front of you," she said. Another moment's quiet passed by before she spoke again. "Oh, and I forgot. Your Aunt Ginny Floo'd yesterday, and we're all going to Diagon Alley together this afternoon for your school supplies."
This announcement garnered a mixed reaction. Fletcher brightened at the prospect of spending the afternoon comparing notes as Head Boy with his Head Girl cousin, Sara, while Gavin cheered at the prospect of spending the afternoon with his literal partner-in-crime, Harrison. For second-oldest Logan and the girls, however, this was not a promising thing.
"Come on, Mum!" cried Abby. "All that ever comes from an afternoon in that place with them is Aggie, Lily, and I always end up baby-sitting the Terrors, you and Aunt Ginny have migraines, Logan hides in his books, and we spend far too much time dallying in useless shops!"
"Madam Malkin's is not a useless shop!" said Aggie indignantly.
"Mum, she does have a point," said Logan.
"Quiet!" cried their mother. They obeyed. "This happens every year," she said calmly, "and the outcome is always the same every year. We are all going, and that is final. Finish up, I told Ginny we would meet them in the Leaky Cauldron at nine."
Abby was through with her breakfast first, and it took her and her family a record-breaking half hour to dress, wash, and do other such morning rituals and assemble in front of the fireplace. Mrs. Weasley passed out Floo powder, then the entire group stepped through the grate and tumbled into the ramshackle pub.
The second one through, Abby stood, dusted herself off, then grabbed Gavin by the elbow before he could start breaking things.
"Abby!"
The excited call of her cousin Lily snapped Abby out of the mood she had been in all morning. The petite redhead could have easily passed for Abby and Aggie's triplet, although her hair was two shades darker and she was built like a Seeker: small, skinny, and light. Abby was, while the same height, a bit more muscular, her chosen position on the House Quidditch team being Beater. Abby smiled as she saw her cousin, standing next to her own little brother, waving furiously.
"Hi, Lils," she said, having let Gavin take off with Harrison. Lily hugged her.
"Can you believe we're going to be third years?" she asked. Abby shrugged.
"I dunno. It's not that big of a deal. What I can't believe is that Fletch is going to graduate . . ."
"I know! Hey . . . wanna go to the QQS?"
"Sure!"
Lily turned to her mother, and she and Abby took off into the courtyard, pulling their wands as they did so.
"I hope mum doesn't send the monsters with us this time," said Abby as Lily tapped the wall.
"Me, too."
The bustling, noisy world of Diagon Alley opened in front of them, all sights and smells and sounds of the wizarding world they found themselves isolated islands of during the summer. They passed the shops selling potions ingredients, and wizarding snacks, and eventually ended up at Quality Quidditch Supplies, where many youngsters had their faces glued to the window where the Firebolt 350 was displayed. Abby and Lily bypassed the display and walked into the store.
The smell of wood, varnish, leather, and that one particular smell you could never place when you were around brooms hung in the air. Abby was in heaven.
"You know, this was always my favorite store," said Lily, walking toward a wall filled with professional Quidditch team jumpers. She pulled down a Chudley Cannons one and turned to Abby. "You think it's hereditary?"
Abby laughed. "What, the Quidditch thing or the Cannons thing?" she asked, walking toward her cousin.
"Both, I guess." Lily looked at the jumper. "It's not exactly a girl thing to like the Cannons, is it? I mean, it is a hideous color."
"It's not exactly a girl thing to be this into Quidditch, either," said Abby, slipping on a Beater glove.
"That's true."
They spent a few minutes sifting through the various bargain equipment, when suddenly a familiar voice called out to them.
"I knew it. Can't keep you two broom rats away from the sport for too long."
Abby looked up and laughed. "Speak for yourself, Teddy," she said. He grinned back.
"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm not a broom rat," he said. "For you see, I could actually stop playing Quidditch if I had to."
"Okay, quit, then. Nobody's making you come back to the team."
"Who said anything about quitting? You need an expert Beater like me protecting your tail, Potter."
Abby rolled her eyes. "I could take you any day," she said, hitting him playfully on the shoulder.
"Oh, isn't this sweet. A gathering of unfortunates in a place of business."
Abby's blood froze. That voice was familiar, too. She didn't want to look over, but she knew she had to.
"Hello, Julian."
Julian Malfoy's lips spread in his family's signature sneer, his silver eyes glittering like diamonds. "Hello, Abigail," he said, gliding toward her. Abby straightened up and put her back against a display case. Julian laughed, tossing his ash blonde hair in a way that seemed almost as if each fine strand as choreographed in a ballet.
"Yes, that's right, I've come to pick a fight with you lot. As if I have nothing better to do . . ."
"You'd best not try anything, Malfoy," said Teddy, rubbing his thumb on the hilt of his wand, "unless you want to leave here in a body bag."
Julian made an odd sucking sound, almost uncannily like a snake's hiss. "Why, Theodore. Such bravery in defense of blood traitors. I'm sure your father would find that interesting . . ."
Teddy went white. "You wouldn't tell my father," he said with bravado. "You can't even get near my father."
"Yes, but I know the people who can. You have a very exploitable skeleton in your closet, Theodore. I'd be very careful who I crossed this year. Enjoy the rest of your day."
With that, he left. All three children exhaled deeply at the same time as the door closed behind him. Abby threw her Harpies jumper back on its shelf and began to storm out of the door, followed closely by her friends.
"You would think having his entire family disgraced at once would temper him," she said, turning off toward Flourish and Blotts.
"That's the type they are," said Teddy. "All Malfoys are inherently elitist and conniving. Just like all Weasleys are stubborn and -"
"Charming?" supplied Abby with a grin.
"Thick?" joked Lily.
"Pig-headed, actually," finished Teddy. "But most pure-blood families have some sort of trait assigned to them, bad or good."
"Depends on how you look at it," said Abby.
"Like the Founders," said Lily, causing the other two to stop and turn. "Well, think about it. Each of the Houses has their own traits that they look for because the Founders looked for them while they were alive. Basically, they wanted to teach students like themselves. So all the families have inherited qualities down the line."
"That's clever, Lils," said Abby, hooking her elbow through her cousin's. "I wonder if I'm just like my father . . ."
"Me, too. I often wonder what my father was like when he was alive. I mean, I know the whole Boy-Who-Lived story, but I want to know what he was really like . . . as a person, not as a hero."
"Well, I think you two are lucky to have never known your fathers," said Teddy darkly. "I'd much rather be wondering with you two . . ."
Abby smiled at her friend. "It's okay, Ted. We know you're nothing like your father."
Teddy smiled weakly back. He'd spent his past two years at school trying to prove that Theodore Nott the second was fit to be in Gryffindor. His fighting spirit was what made him a great Beater, and he and Abby shared a special connection borne from their similarities and intense friendship. Lily suddenly let go of her elbow.
"You may wonder if you're like your father," she said, "but we know you've got tons of your mother in you, too. You've brought us to Flourish and Blotts again!"
Abby looked up at the sign. So she had. "Sorry . . . I didn't know where I was going . . . I just started walking."
"As long as we're here, let's see if mum's here or not."
Lily ducked into the shop, leaving Teddy and Abby out on the street. Abby sighed. Hopefully the Malfoys weren't in here, otherwise she'd be storming back to the Leaky Cauldron without new robes or even a broom. With a deep breath, she walked through the door.
There were no Malfoys in sight. However, several flashes of red around her told her that there were plenty of Weasleys. The source of the mayhem was quickly spotted: Aunt Ginny was laughing in the corner with another tall redhead with a long scar across the front of his face, marring his otherwise good looks. His hair was shocked with grey, but his smile was still full of youth. Abby smiled and ran through the mess of cousins chasing each other about the shop.
"Uncle Charlie!" she called as she approached them. The two adults looked over at her and Uncle Charlie's grin grew even wider.
"Look who it is!" he cried. "Abigail Weasley, you grow six inches every time I see you."
Abby laughed. "I highly doubt that," she said. "Are you the only one here?"
"Well . . . I do believe you have an uncle or two upstairs . . . I'd watch out, though. Fletcher nearly got his glasses broken trying to climb the stairs."
"Thanks, Uncle Charlie."
With a last hug, Abby turned and raced back through the shop. It was actually rather pleasant among the books and the wild children. A Weasley day at Flourish and Blotts chased away most of the business . . . but the shopkeepers didn't mind, so long as it was only one day a year. Ducking a rogue Dungbomb near the Goblin Histories section, Abby soon came upon her twin uncles, Fred and George, who were actually the ones throwing Dungbombs.
"Sorry about that, Abby," called Fred. "Our aim is a bit rusty."
"We've been out of practice," said George, dropping another bomb just left of his own son Phillip's head.
"Nice to know you still haven't grown up," came a voice from behind Abby. She nearly laughed at the looks on the twins' faces, but that was before she turned around to see her mother, wearing a very stern expression and carrying a cauldron full of books. She turned on Abby. "It's time we left," she said. "Your things are waiting back at the pub. Say good-bye to your uncles and your friends."
Abby looked back to Fred and George as she followed her mother down the stairs, and they winked at her. She grinned back.
It took another ten minutes to shuffle the Hermione Weasleys out of Flourish and Blotts. Abby gave Lily a hug and promised to owl, then exchanged farewells with Teddy. With a last longing look back at the chaos of the bookshop, Abby trooped along, fingers pinching Gavin's ear, and reluctantly took her own things home through the fireplace.
"I saw you with Teddy Nott," said Aggie when they arrived back home. "He's so cute! How can you stand it?"
"I just do," said Abby, climbing the stairs. Just then, she stopped. "Hey, Aggie, you said Julian Malfoy was in your dream last night." Aggie nodded. "What was he doing?"
"Oh, wouldn't you like to know," said Aggie teasingly. Abby fixed her with a hard stare. "All right, all right. He was flying on his broomstick. Why?"
"No reason," said Abby, continuing to stomp up the stairs. "And stop dreaming about him."
Abby was around the corner, so she didn't hear her sister's entertained giggle.