The Darkest of Roses
Chapter 11: A Moon's Gaze

AuthorNotes: here's chapter eleven. hope you like it. It's kinda of a filler chapter. The next one's pretty exciting. :) it's one of my longer chapters that's for certain. that chapter won't be out until I created chapter 13 and finish it. I'm trying to stay one chapter ahead of myself, just so you know. That way I know what's happening before you guys! LOL jk. Anyways, please enjoy. I'm lovnig all the reviews -tears- they make me happy! :')

Having constant bad luck sucked.

That was all that was in Abigail's mind as she traveled back up to the Ravenclaw tower after her usual Wednesday tutoring lessons with Malfoy. It was another uneventful night of him just listening, or his idea of listening. Abigail was getting really tired of repeating everything professor McGonagall stated, just in simpler terms. It wasn't that hard to differentiate motions in the spells used for Transfiguration. There were only four and all of them increased the power used in the spell.

Abigail sighed and clutched her books to her chest, heading up toward the Ravenclaw tower when she stopped, looking up the other staircase, leading west instead of east. She began heading up them, slowly at first before picking up her speed. She would really like to have a moment alone, by herself. Her feet made slight smacking noises as she raced up the concrete staircase before cutting right and heading up the small staircase, leading up to the Astronomy Tower that was aglow with a magical moon gaze. The moon's rays shone against the instruments, giving them a fresh and just-waxed appearance. She moved forward, setting her stuff on the ground and heading to one of the cut out windows. Abigail leaned against it, loving the smell of the crisp night's air with a mixture of a hint of salty water, thanks to the black lake.

Abigail stared out, counting the constellations she spotted as she smiled. She had always been somewhat of a night owl, even though she loved baking in the sun during summer vacation. But she loved gazing at the moon, which always seemed ready for a staring contest. Its beautiful face gazed down at her with its crooked, one-sided smile. It was a waxing half moon. She knew in another week, maybe two there would be a full moon. She rested her elbow on the windowsill and rested her chin on the palm of her hand, gazing endlessly up at the moon.

Her mind drifted to Tim and his weird behavior. She knew she liked him, a lot. She had kissed him the other night, more romantic than any other kiss she has ever received. It had been practically spell-bounding and spine tinglingly perfect. Abigail giggled at her made up word before shaking her head and sighing. "At least I can literally say something went right with my life today," Abigail stated, to the moon that listened intently as she spoke. "I wish I could be up there with you, Miss Moon. It seems a bit less complicated, being orbited and doing your job without any new rules or boundaries. They're always the same, rotating in the same circular motion." Abigail knew talking to the moon was one step away to being tossed off to St. Mungo's but she didn't care. She couldn't talk to Chelsea about her concerns because she knew what Chelsea would just say. "Dork-o would probably say something like "Tim is a marvelous man and the moon doesn't talk back. Talk to Tim about your problems, he'll fix everything blah, blah, blah" and whatever else her stupidity could come up with," Abigail stated, giggling to herself at her imitation of Chelsea.

Abigail sighed and went to say something else but a weird noise caught her attention. She turned around expecting to be caught by a prefect or roaming professor but nothing was there. She looked around, confused before looking back up at the moon, winking and blowing it a kiss before heading out of the Astronomy tower, snagging up her things before shutting the door shut.

The moon continued to gaze down into the many windows of the Astronomy tower, peering into the person standing behind the largest instrument. The conflicting darkness made it hard to tell the features of his face, but he was a tall man with a contemplative crook in his mouth. He was wearing dark clothes, shielding the shape of his body before he turned, hastily around and whisked away, out of the view of the moon's knowing gaze.

…::::…

Chelsea Andrews was really worried. She had stayed up hours after curfew, waiting endlessly on the person that strode through the door with her usual determination. "Where were you, Abby?" Chelsea stated, narrowing her eyes accusingly. She didn't like how Abigail had taken part of the tutoring of Draco Malfoy, the loathsome evil little slug. Chelsea knew if her friend had just said no to professor McGonagall, the professor couldn't just found someone else to tutor the pig. But no, Abigail had to do it herself and be the nice person she was.

"After tutoring, I went to the Astronomy tower to think," Abigail stated, setting her stuff down and peeling off her robes to start getting dressed for bed, in her usual white nightgown. Chelsea rolled her eyes and scooted to the edge of her bed, clearing her throat with a smart-ass tone at the edge of it. Abigail looked over, narrowing her eyes as she peeled her curtains back. "What?" Abigail asked. Chelsea could hear the irritation in the tone of her voice.

"Don't lie to me, Abby. I know you've been eyeing Malfoy and if you don't tell me what you're doing with that cockroach, I'll be forced to…"

"To what? Hex me? We both know you suck at dueling, Chelsea," Abigail interrupted, shaking her head as she grabbed a hair tie and pulled up her hair in a quick bun. "I'm tired. I want to go to bed to get ready for tomorrow's classes. Stop being your usual judgmental person and go to bed, you. You're not appealing with bags under your eyes." Chelsea gasped as Abigail shut the curtains to her bed and she heard her shuffle before no more movement. Chelsea gritted her teeth before shutting the curtains around her bed, slipping under her covers and staring upwards at the ceiling.

She had a weird feeling that Abigail was doing something other than tutoring Malfoy. Abigail wasn't an angel, Chelsea thought. Chelsea knew what Abigail had gone through, devilish and angelic. It was pure scandalous what Abigail has done, in certain situations. Chelsea knew them all; all of Abigail's rowdy summer nights were locked away in Chelsea's mind and they might have to be revealed to save Abigail from getting turned into dirt level by doing anything with Malfoy. Chelsea had no problem with her secret obsession with flirting with muggle boys and then end up frolicking with them for a while before dumping them to leave for Hogwarts. Abigail claimed she didn't use them and had actually fallen for all of them and Chelsea played it doll-like and agreed with her, acting like she understood.

Wearing a worried smirk on her face, she slipped off to sleep like the other ten girls in the dormitories.

…::::…

Stress leads to wear and tear. Wear and tear leads to wrinkles. Wrinkles leads to old age. Old age leads to a mournful life. A mournful life leads to a long awaited for death full of life, beauty and opportunity. Abigail thought of those thoughts as she poked at her breakfast, Thursday morning. She had been waiting for classes to start today and it was taking unusually long. It felt like she was experiencing the entire week in that little hour. She wished the next weekend would come and go so she can suffer the third week of school and be prepared for the first end of the month terms that were coming up for her advanced classes, like Ancient Runes and Double Astronomy.

"Abby, are you ok?" Abigail looked up to see Tim eyeing her, wearily. Abigail nodded, smiling as she began eating. She couldn't keep her mind off the weird thoughts breaking through her boundaries, however. She usually had a journal to write in, to write her thoughts down her mother could evaluate them. Her mother grew up with a family of psychologists for the broken wizards and witches. They helped recuperate witches and wizards who underwent a lot of stressful points in their lives. They were both pureblood people and ultimately sweet and very generous. Ginger Jones was just like them with the ponderous and knowing look she gave Abigail whenever she lied. She giggled at the memories that sprang forth, regarding her mother's knowing look when Abigail was caught red handed in a lie.

"Abby, seriously, you keep zoning?" Tim asked, waving his hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her slight memories. Abigail looked over at Tim's innocent face and smiled.

"I'm fine, Tim. I'm just tired it all," Abigail lied, shielding her eyes with her usual dead look in them that she learned from the best, her father. She saw Chelsea's look darken and Abigail looked over at her, narrowing her eyes. "What's that look for, Shells?" Abigail inquired, darkening her own gaze.

"Why are you tired, Abby?" Chelsea asked, leaning forward and whispering harshly. Tim raised an eyebrow as he watched the two of them, glaring lightning at each other. Tim put his hand in between them, grabbing an orange and grinning as they looked over at him.

"No arguing, ladies especially at the breakfast table," Tim stated. Chelsea grinned as Abigail frowned, sitting back up and returning back to her boring breakfast. She looked over at Tim and he winked, causing a blush to ignite on Abigail's face and a school of butterflies tickling her insides. Abigail smiled and couldn't help but scoot closer to him, under the crook of his arm and continue her eating. She finished her hot cakes and some sausage links before she began standing. "Where ya going?" Tim asked, looking up at her. Abigail smiled.

"I'm a nerd, Tim. I start classes earlier," Abigail stated, lying once more as she gathered her stuff. Tim smirked and tapped his cheek. She giggled and leaned down, pressing her lips against his cheek and scurrying off. She wanted some alone time, especially after that weird look Chelsea gave her. It wasn't like her and Tim were together! They had gone out on one official date (which had gone horribly disastrous) and kissed just one, on the mouth so far. Chelsea was such a drama queen, Abigail thought as she made her way toward the fourth floor and toward her first class, which happened to be History of Magic, so early in the morning. She was bound to fall asleep and as she walked in to see professor Binns writing down the notes for the day's class, she couldn't keep from sighing as she took her usual seat in the back row and pulled out her book, beginning the reading and already becoming as bored as she was this morning, listening to Chelsea and Tim yack her ears off.

Draco Malfoy was leaning against the wall, just outside his last hour that afternoon, on Thursday. It was Charms with professor Flitwick, head of the Ravenclaw house. He had this class practically alone without his posse. He had other Slytherins in with him, but neither of them were Blaise Zabini or Crabbe or Goyle or even Parkinson, he guiltily admitted in his head. He titled his head up, perching his leg up to steady him as he pocketed his hands. Days were boring nowadays, even his lousy tutoring classes with that nerdy Ravenclaw, Jones.

Professor McGonagall couldn't have picked a more boring Ravenclaw to teach him Transfiguration. The professor was boring enough but now he had to suffer twice in a row or he'd get deducted house points and grade points. Draco only kept going to the tutoring lessons to make sure his house gets supported and points every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Even though that was only five points a night, it equaled to fifteen points a week and sixty points a month. It was more than the spontaneous points the Gryffindor house got, whom didn't need anymore of those stupid points.

"Oh, Malfoy!" Draco looked over and saw Abigail Jones walking toward him with a confused look. "I thought you had Divination this period." Draco made a weird look. He's been in the same Charms class with the Ravenclaws for the past five years. He didn't not to say anything as he waited as the Jones girl leaned against the wall, some feet away from him. She looked heavy on the mind, he noted with a little hint of curiosity. There's no way that Ravenclaw would be stressing over anything but monthly exams in the next couple weeks but the wear and tear along her eyes said it was something else. He wondered if he should ask, since she was teaching him Transfiguration but before he could make up the argument brooding in his mind, professor Flitwick came through and allowed access into the classroom as the other students began showing up, slowly and scattered.

Draco headed inside and took his usual seat by Theodore Nott, who nodded his head at him and went back to whatever he was thinking. Draco cared very little for Theodore Nott, figuring that Nott was a brainless wonder when it didn't come to gambling galleons or doing "missions" for Slytherins to make people's lives miserable. Draco glanced over at Theodore to see he had a more successful air to him, which was strange. "What's up with you, Nott?" Draco asked, making a face when Theodore grinned over at him.

"Glad you asked, Malfoy," he slurred. Theodore also had horrible talking manners when he spoke directly to people about latest pranks or tricks. "Zabini paid me to ruin that Jones bitch's date with that Zachary bloke!" Theodore laughed as Draco looked over at Jones, smirking before looking over at Theodore who was eyeing Abigail like she was some sort of goddess who was naked. "However, if Zachary's tappin' that, that might mean I might get a little of it as well… Worth the galleons I got, I say," Theodore stated, shrugging and shutting up as the professor began talking. Draco eyed Theodore weirdly, almost in disbelief. Why did all the guy friends he had around him constantly talked about shagging that Abigail Jones wench? Was she from some high, rich pureblood family or something? She wasn't that attractive but as Draco looked over, his mind deceived him.

She was sitting at the end with her legs poking out the end of the desk. He spotted a lot of leg in that motion, up to her mid-thigh at least. They were copper in color and thicker than average, in a different way. Her body angled over the desk, showing a little bit of cleavage through the few buttons she had unbuttoned on her undershirt. Her hair was in a ponytail that was loose with strands around her young face. She had a very strong jaw with permanent laugh lines around her lips and as she smiled at her neighbor, who apparently said something, Draco saw why. Her grin was large and monstrous compared to most girls', who were self-conscious of their large gums or large horse teeth or if they had anything in their teeth. Draco made a face and nodded, noting laugh lines were a good attribute to a girl.

So maybe Draco saw the attributes the other horny Slytherin losers were rousing about, but Draco wasn't about to sleep with a nerd such as Abigail Jones who probably had no back bone or claws that could dig into someone's skin as revenge. So pushing his thoughts elsewhere on more interesting thoughts, he tried to pay attention to the boring, lagging voice of professor Flitwick who was going on about some disillusionment charm.