A new year, another Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Usually Abigail Hollyoak wasn't against new professors - she welcomed them and hoped for the best, in fact. She hoped they didn't get killed, she hoped they weren't impersonators that wanted to kill the students… However, during their welcoming feast, Abi sent uncomfortable glances down the Gryffindor table as Dolores Umbridge spoke of a new way of teaching. Raking her fingers through her blonde hair, the somewhat wavy strands falling behind her shoulders, Abigail sighed quietly.

"This is going to be a fun year," she whispered when Umbridge took her seat. Goosebumps raced along her spine and she felt eyes on her. She refused to give in, keeping her own brown irises to the table instead of looking at Umbridge. Her tall friend casually looked at Abigail, his black eyes sparking with interest.

"What's wrong now?" he asked, sweeping his shaggy black hair from his eyes, "Feeling homesick already?"

"No," Abigail answered firmly, looking up. Dumbledore allowed them to begin eating and Abigail finally looked at Umbridge. To her relief, the professor had moved on from her and began talking to someone. She rolled her neck and began to choose some bits of food. However, nearby she heard Fred and George discussing Umbridge's new role in Hogwarts.

"This'll be a fun year," George anticipated, repeating Abi's words. Abigail looked down at them, seeing Ginny nudge Fred with her elbow.

"She might hear you," she hissed.

"You'll be fine," Abigail piped up, gaining their attention, "Toads don't have that good a hearing,"

The twins chuckled, and she earned a smile from Ginny.

"How was your holiday, Abigail?" she asked, elbow on the long table, "Any fun news?"

"Not really. Just my little sister getting into Hogwarts," she answered, cutting through a sausage with a flimsy knife, "Mum got attacked when trying to calm an out of control sphinx at Gringotts,"

"Is she alright?" Hermione interjected, "Sphinxes have really vicious tempers!"

"Well, that's why my mum was called," Abigail answered proudly, straightening her back, "But yeah, all she got was a slash in the shoulder. Nothing serious. How about you lot?"

"Not bad," Hermione was the first to answer. Ginny nodded in agreement, looking down as she thought of something to say. Abigail glanced at her silent shaggy haired friend. Now that her attention was brought to him, the trio of girls felt it was right to involve him in the conversation.

"How about your holiday, Alistair?" Ginny questioned, "Good?"

"Not really," he admitted, playing with his food, "Dad's going mad trying to calm the talks about - uh - You-Know-Who."

The mention only pushed the awkward tension. Harry looked up at the mention and Alistair looked over at him. It seemed Alistair was the only one to not outwardly show uneasiness.

"What about Voldemort?" Harry demanded. Alistair pursed his lips, looking Harry in the eye. Abigail looked from one to the other, hesitating and put her fork down, rubbing her thumb and finger together.

"Alistair can't talk about his dad's work," she looked at her friend, then at the others, "He got into trouble for it last year, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Alistair nodded, chin in his hand, "But I'll just say this, Harry. It's nothing special."

"Anything about him is special," Ron insisted, eyeing Alistair, "Come on, it's not like you can't just tell us a few things here and there! Even just hints! Don't hold back from us!"

"Leave it, Ron!" Abigail glared. Ron hesitated, giving him a look. She composed herself, looking at them before getting to her feet, "Anyway. I'm going to head to the common room. See you guys later."

"I'll catch up!" Alistair called after her. She nodded and walked for the large door. Passing by the feasting students, their murmurs ringing in her ears, Abigail made way to leave through the large exit. However, as she exited the Great Hall and briskly walked down a hall, something caught her eye: a tall boy, most likely of Asian decent (or so she guessed), speaking harshly to a small girl. Unfortunately, she recognised the tormenter.

"Emile," Abigail said firmly, taking it upon herself to interfere, "I see the holidays hasn't change you a bit. Stop picking on people, will you?"

The tall boy looked over at her. He snorted, fixing his Ravenclaw tie. Abigail readied herself for a witty retort, thinking over anything she could say after. However, Emile was unpredictable when it came to arguments and she found herself just waiting.

"I'm not picking on her," he insisted, glancing at the frail looking girl, displaying a Hufflepuff tie hanging from her neck, "I'm just reminding her that she needs to keep to her own business,"

"I walked into you by accident," the Hufflepuff finally squeaked, "I said sorry!"

"Yeah, well," Emile tutted and turned, sauntering away from the pair and into the great hall, "Don't do it again."

Abigail glared, not wanting to leave this argument with her not uttering a real retort.

"Just leave people alone, Emile!"

Smiling, Abigail then looked at the Hufflepuff victim, not wanting to forget the person she had 'saved'.

"He's a Slytherin deep down," she tutted, crossing her arms, "Where you heading?"

"Just anywhere," she answered vaguely. Abigail was satisfied with this however, and walked down the stone hallway with her. She recognised her: her short honey coloured hair and sharp features were easily remembered, but her name escaped her mind. A quiet Hufflepuff could only stand out so much before getting buried by louder Slytherins and Gryffindors.

"So…" Abigail trailed off, looking at the Hufflepuff. She pursed her lips and quickly looked at Abigail, her green eyes wide and almost creature like. Abigail immediately looked back ahead, almost embarrassed by her attempts at talking.

"I'm going this way," she excused, "See you."

"Uh, oh okay - bye," Abigail watched her disappear round the corner.

Letting out an unsuccessful sigh, Abigail moved on and up the ever moving stairs, waiting at the top of one as it switched. Her fingers clutched around the banister, eyes refusing to look anywhere but ahead. When the steps came to a jolting halt, Abigail scurried off and towards the Fat Lady, who looked at her expectantly.

"Carnelian red," she said firmly.

"Ooh," she smirked, the portrait slowly swinging open, "Someone's in a hurry."

Ignoring her comment, Abigail made her way to the common room. She was almost immediately assaulted by a collection of arms reaching for hugs. Overwhelmed, Abigail stumbled back and let out vocal disapproval.

"Abi, it's just us!" Katie Bell grinned, along with Seamus Finnigan and Dean. Abigail, realising it was just her friends, grinned and hugged each separately.

"What're you guys doing here? What about the feast?"

"We were there 'till Umbridge stepped forward," Seamus admitted, sitting on the back of a couch. Dean smiled and nodded, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, we snuck out about half way through," he finished. Katie, still grinning, sat back down on her armchair and picked up the book she was previously reading.

"Lucky," Abigail snorted. But she turned when she heard the portrait opening up once more. Soon, a wave of students flooded into the common room, greeting and chatting away to each other about the new professor. Umbridge was on everyone's minds tonight, and it would most likely be the same in the morning.

Sitting by the fireplace on the floor, Abigail was already sick of hearing Umbridge's name being uttered. Alistair soon joined her, a small cat cradled in his arms. Wary of such creature, Abi eyed it before looking up as Harry entered the room. Everyone fell silent, looking at Harry. The poor bloke looked petrified.

"Alright, Dean. Seamus," he greeted the pair, and Seamus soon ignored him. Abigail rolled her eyes, watching the scene unfold, shifting to a chair so she could see better. Alistair, however, continued to stroke the cat in his arms and gaze at the fire.

"Good holidays?"

"Better than Seamus'," Abigail heard Dean comment. Pursing her lips, curiosity peeked, she watched as the argument escalated. Both reached near yelling point, and Abigail moved to try and intervene.

"Don't you dare talk about me mam like that!" Seamus feigned approaching Harry, but Harry didn't move.

"Both of you, calm down!" Abigail glared. Ron quickly approached, moving past Seamus to join Harry's side.

"What's going on?"

"He's mad, that's what's going on!" Seamus answered bitterly, "Do you believe the rubbish he's coming out with about You-Know-Who?"

"Yeah, I do," Ron nodded, "Anyone got a problem with that?"

"I do," Abigail answered confidently, "When you start to insult people for stupid reasons, you start to look like an arse, Harry."

Harry said nothing. He turned and left, leaving Ron to glare accusingly at Abigail before retreating after his friend. Abigail looked at Seamus, who sent her a glance and then looked down. She put her hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off and left the common room.

"Seamus, wait!" Dean looked at Abigail, "I'll sort him out."

"Right," Abigail held back the urge to yell 'whatever' and leave the stroppy Irish lad to himself. Instead, she sat down on the couch and slouched, eyeing Alistair when he finally looked at her. She gave him a look and he smiled and looked back at his cat.

The days went on. The first Defence Against the Dark Arts class was awful. Abigail had stayed quiet for most of the lesson, however Harry's continued frustration on Umbridge began to bring up Abigail's as well. But Umbridge seemed to catch up in the storm as well, and when she put Harry in detention. Abigail sent a glance at Harry, however he didn't notice and she looked back down at her paper, biting her lip.

During the evening, Abigail made her way down the hallway from the common room. It was stuffy and too many people were still talking about Umbridge. She was tired of the old news, and it wasn't helping that all the classes were piling homework onto them. Unable to concentrate with so many distractions, she planned on heading to the library.

On her way, she saw none other than Harry Potter. Looking at him, her eyes laid on his bright red hand. Her eyes widened in shock and Harry, noticing her reaction, shifted his sleeve over it.

"Is that what happens when you get detention with Umbridge?" she questioned and Harry hesitated, unable to just walk on now that she was talking to him. They stopped in the hall way and he shrugged.

"Maybe just me, I don't know," he answered, not wanting to frighten her. Attempting to lighten the atmosphere, he put on a small smile and continued, "I seem to get special treatment a lot."

Ignoring the statement, Abigail took his hand and looked it over. He seemed uncomfortable and a little shocked by the sudden contact, but didn't fight back.

"That looks painful," she finally decided, letting him have his hand back. He nodded, looking down at it and shrugged. Abigail smiled, wondering if he was just trying not to make a big deal out of it. If it were her, she would; she'd be all over Hogwarts showing people what Umbridge did.

"Well, anyway, sorry," Abigail laughed, "See you later."

"Where are you off to?" he asked, and she walked on past him, looking over her shoulder.

"Library. It's too crowded in the common room," she replied, disappearing round the corner. Abi was almost disappointed when Harry didn't follow after her: he was one of the more mellow students in Gryffindor, and she really needed that right now. But her mind quickly forgot about the situation when she arrived in the quiet library, and she set her books down by a floating candle above a large, old desk. Trying to get into it, Abigail pulled the hefty chair under her and studied the lyrics to the new choir song. It was unfortunately supposed to be learned for tomorrow, but Abigail never got round to it (i.e she never really bothered). Sighing, she took the sheet of paper out and looked up at the floating candle, which seemed to be almost gliding away from her. She removed her wand and whisked it once, and the candle moved back, giving her a better light.

"Right." Abigail put her wand down, eyeing the title 'Gaudete'. Pursing her lips, Abigail began to mutter it, however the Latin was giving her difficulty, "Gal… Gaud- Gowdate-y, gowdate-y… ugh."

"Gaudete," someone spoke softly and she jumped turning to look to her right. The Hufflepuff from a few days ago stood shyly, leaning on the bookshelf, "It's pronounced gow-date-tay. It means rejoice."

Her humble voice would usually be too quiet to hear, but under the circumstances of the library, Abigail could hear her.

"Oh," Abigail looked back at the words, "Yes, yeah I see it now. You know this?"

"I'm in the choir," the girl said almost dejectedly. Abigail felt her heart sink and she looked away embarrassedly. The pair was quiet for a moment. Abigail finally looked back at the Huffelpuff and gestured for her to sit with her.

"I've never noticed you in the choir," Abigail admitted the obvious, "You've learned this?"

"Yeah. I'm the solo," her cheeks burned, "Professor Flitwick wants me to 'show my talent'. Whatever that means,"

"It means you're a favourite," Abigail mocked. Her cheeks merely brightened and Abi looked back at the lyrics, saying the words as well as possible in her head, "So, what's your name?"

"Mallory," she replied, "You're Abigail, right?"

"Well, I didn't know people knew my name!" Abigail boasted, her ego soaring. Mallory smiled shyly, as if she didn't have the heart to admit something. Abigail let it pass and looked back at her, suddenly noticing that Mallory didn't have any studying material. It wasn't odd for people to be in the library obviously, but she didn't appear intent on finding any books either.

"What're you doing here, anyway?" Abigail put the sheet of paper down. Mallory's eyes shifted and she quickly looked back at Abigail, and the blonde smiled as she awaited an answer.

"Just, uh. Wandering," Mallory spoke, gesturing to the sheet, "Practicing that. In my head, really."

"Right. That's a good idea," Abigail agreed. Suddenly, she changed the subject, "What do you think about Umbridge? I hate her - Umbridge needs to keep her fat nose out of Hogwart's-"

"Hem-hem," a high pitched voice interrupted her. Abigail could feel goosebumps running up her spine as she turned and saw Umbridge standing before them, hands clasped in front of her. The professor quickly exposed a smile, "It's nearly eight o'clock, dears."

"Yes ma'am." Mallory shot to her feet, "Sorry."

Umbridge nodded politely to Mallory as she left. Abigail stood herself, collecting her things and putting them away, not wanting to have the toad's eyes on her for much longer. However, as she moved to walk past her, Umbridge shot her stubby fingers out and blocked her way. Satisfied, she then clasped her hands in front of her again.

"Speaking out of turn about the staff of Hogwarts is frowned upon, don't you know," she began, "Surely, being a fifth year, you should know that, Miss Hollyoak?"

"Yes, professor." she nodded, refraining eye contact. Instead she eyed the gaudy rings attached to Umbridge's fingers.

"So, I don't need to have you on detention, do I, Miss Hollyoak?" Umbridge smiled, "I would feel dreadful having to waste your free evenings for such a silly reason. I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't be too pleased about your actions either,."

"Of course not, professor." Abigail just wanted out of here. Finally, she looked Umbridge in the eye. Her smile was still there, however it looked anything but sincere. Nodding, she stepped aside to let Abigail pass.

"Straight to bed, now!" Umbridge tittered. Abigail nodded and scurried out of the library, face red and eyes wide. She wasn't sure if she was scared or just embarrassed.

The next few days were slow. Professor Flitwick was rightfully upset about Abigail not learning the lyrics well enough; Professor Umbridge was keeping a keen eye on Abigail in D.A.D.A and making the class worse and worse; Professor Snape was perhaps just a bit more bitter than usual, bit it was difficult to tell. Everything in Hogwarts was taking a turn for the worse…

Choir practice was quite possibly becoming the deadliest subject she was going through. Every time Abigail opened her mouth, she was forced to take a peek at the papers in front of them. That wouldn't have been so bad any other day, but being so close to their official performance date, it was unacceptable.

"Abigail," Flitwick spoke as the students packed up, "Can you stay behind?"

Abigail made a face while her back was turned to him, but straightened up and spun to look at him. She found it difficult to take him seriously, however she repeatedly tried to remind herself that he was professor for a reason - he was a powerful wizard, no matter the size. He walked over, waiting for the rest of the choir to leave before speaking.

"I've been noticing a lack of concentration from you lately," he admitted, "I'm concerned. You were a good student in first year… Second and third too, really. But lately you don't seem so interested. Is there a problem with the choir?"

"What? No," Abigail insisted, pursing her lips, "I just, I've been busy with other classes. You know, uh, Defence Against the Dark Arts… That sort of thing,"

"There's nothing to be busy with in that classroom," Flitwick immediately commented in good humour, making Abigail smile. Flitwick smiled himself, "Abigail, there are other girls and boys that want in this choir. I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go: your singing's not up to par with the others, and you're just not putting in enough effort."

"Aw, but professor-" she began, but he cut her off with a wave his wand. This also caused her satchel to fly into her hand, and she jumped a bit before frowning and nodding submissively, "Alright. Thank you, professor…"

"I'm sorry, Abigail," he admitted, "At least I'll still see you in Charms!"

"Barely," she mumbled as she walked out the room. She sighed and walked down the hallway, noticing how empty the place was. She hesitated, glancing nervously towards the Gryffindor common room. Usually she would see two or three people wandering around. Shrugging it off, Abigail made her way into the common room and relaxed by the fire, rolling her neck uncomfortably. She could hear the mews of someone's cat, but ignored it, preferring the noise of the crackling fire.

She wasn't sure how long had passed, and she was getting bored of waiting for a few people. Rolling her head at the sound of people coming in, she smiled at them. Katie Bell smiled back, but looked perplexed.

"You're in fifth year, aren't you?"

"Yup."

"Don't you have Potions now? With Snape?"

"What day is it?"

"Friday."

"Oh bloody hell!"

She ran and ran through Hogwarts, all the way down to the Dungeons. She passed amused sixth years and confused seventh years. The sounds of her shoes clacking against the stone floors couldn't keep up with her. Snape was not going to be happy, and in all honesty, neither was Abigail. Oh Hell, she was going to get so much detention for this. Oh bloody bullocksy bloody hell.

"If you look at page 456 and follow directions-" Snape stopped speaking as the door creaked open. He raised his head, eyes peering through strands of hair, and Abigail slowly looked round. All eyes on her. She bit her lip.

"I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule to join us, Miss Hollyoak," Snape began. She could sense Slytherins snickering at her, "However, I would suggest you try and make it on time in future…"

"Yes, professor," she sat at the first empty seat she found. Snape eyed her carefully as she opened her book, and looked back down at his own.

"Stay behind for detention."

Abigail hung her head.

"Yes, professor."

Oh yes. A good start to the year indeed.