So, here's the first chapter!! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer & Warnings: If I owned HP, would I have let Fred die? … No, I wouldn't have. So I don't own it, Rowling does. There, was that so difficult?

This story contains Spoilers for HP:DH and light slash in future chapters, though nothing graphic.

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One

Abby Midgewood woke up. Her nightshirt was sweaty and stuck to her skin like glue. She sat up, cursing passionately about humidity in general. She reached for the brush and pulled it resolutely through her hair.

It was more or less straight and had this kind of tone when you can't decide wether it's blonde or brown - she liked it, nonetheless. When she had been little, it had been of a darkbrown color, it had lightened up over the years; much to her parents' surprise whose hair had darkened with time. Her eyes had changed, too. Earlier they were a - beautiful, it's the best word - shade of steelblue. Everyone else's eyes were simply greyblue, or babyblue, or whatever. Her eyes were steelblue. And after that - THAT - incident, there were little green dots all over the irises. Green dots. Not that she didn't like green, it was just that her eyes now looked like… like someone had taken two pots of very gooey blue and green and had done a really horrible job at mixing.

Abby groaned and went for the shower. It was september, it wasn't supposed to be so hot!

It was now her sixth year, and Hogwarts was a total, complete and utter mess. After Dumbledore's death the school had been closed, but now, when many high-ranked wizards had pointed out it would be probably more safe for the young wizards and witches here than anywhere else it was reopened. Security had been heavily increased, even more than the time the Chamber of Secrets had been opened.

There was a lot of self-defense lessons now, given by various teachers, especially due to the lacking of a Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. Slughorn proceeded to teach Potions, but focusing more on poisons, antidotes, the fast identification of the former and the equally fast production of the latter. McGonagall had taken up the place of the headmistress beside Transformations, which left her most of the time exhausted and therefore irritable. She had also decided to drop the whole thing with house points - the pupils should work together in an emergency, not start arguments about house rivalries. The sorting ceremony at the beginning of the year had remained, though. Abby snorted at the sheer irony of it.

She stepped out of the shower and dried herself. School was going for three weeks now and she really liked it, despite the fact that Voldemort and companions could show up every moment and murder them all. But it was unlikely. Abby wasn't utopian - she was realistic: why should He Who Must Not Be Named (What was that for a name, anyway? The Really Really Bad Guy sounded far more descriptive. And funnier) massacre a bunch of more or less angst-ridden teenagers that weren't even a threat to him and his army of Death Eaters, but were guarded quite well by aurors and other powerful magicians? He would succeed (in the part of murdering them all), that was for sure, but it would cost him definitely a few of his followers and why should he kill someone who could possibly become one of his henchmen later when he succeeded in the part of taking over the world?

And, most importantly, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived (Another stupid nickname) had not returned to school. Abby suspected he was somewhere in the muggle world, plotting a way to bring Voldemort down. The Dark Lord had other things to worry about than said bunch of teenagers.

Maybe she just didn't want to think about what would happen if he decided it was worth the cost. Life was a habit you don't really want to get rid off.

When she dressed, the girl in the bed next to her, Sarah Abbott, shifted and half-sat up, blinking sleepily. "Whaddime isit?", she mumbled.

"You can go back to sleep, it's not even seven yet", Abby replied, grabbing her wand and stuffing it into her pocket. Sarah 'hm'ed absent-mindedly and fell back into the pillows. Abby made her way down to the common room - they weren't allowed to be outside their respective common rooms/dorms after six o' clock but no one had ever said something about it being prohibited to be out early - through the portrait of two young monks playing chess and into the hallway.

"What are you doing again so early?", asked the first one, moving a white pawn.

"These are dangerous times, little girl", added the other one.

"I know it by now", Abby said, "I just couldn't sleep." She waved a good-bye and walked in the direction of the great hall. The corridors were empty aside from two wizards who had taken the early patrol shift. She avoided them and finally got to the great hall, peeking inside. Rays of milky sunlight shone through the high windows, giving everything a dream-like glow. The sky was mildly clouded and still reddish. Grinning, she spotted a few house elves that were cleaning the floor, the food already sitting on the long tables. She opened the doors a bit farther and slipped inside.

" G' Morning!", she greeted them. The house elf next to her jumped at least half a metre in the air from the sudden noise. He turned around to meet her with wide eyes. "Mi-Miss!", he squeaked. "W-What are you doing here already?!"

Abby chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Another house elf hurried towards them, slightly pushing the first one aside. He bowed deeply. "Mistress, I apologize for you being not able to dine in calmness", he said in a high-pitched voice, "We will immediately leave so you are not to be bothered with---" He stopped as he noticed that Abby had taken a seat at the Ravenclaws' table.

"How often do I have to tell you it's okay? I like your company." She took a bread and smeared it with jam.

It was true. At breakfast the atmosphere was again very tense since school had started. The post came, and with it, news from families or the Daily Prophet, that told of deaths and disappearing people and other things one usually does not want to think about while eating.

The house elves continued cleaning, not really confused by her presence, with exception for the house elf who had jumped: he cast her some nervous glances. They were finished soon and left, but not without biding Abby a reverent farewell. She was done eating around the time other early risers entered the great hall. She went back to her dorm where the other girls were currently dressing to get her books.

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I don't really like the part with the house elves, but otherwise it's acceptable, I think. Now: What do you think?