The Flip Side - Chapter Twenty-Three - The Death Card

Abby sat cross-legged on her bed and tried very hard to concentrate on her homework, but failed to accomplish much more than rhythmically stroking her cat, Nightshade, from nose tip to tail tip, lost in her own thoughts.

The week had been confusing (to say the very least) and she found that, by Friday afternoon, she could no longer stomach being around other people. On Monday, Professor McGonagall had spoken to her in private after class had ended, and had informed her that at her father's insistence, (though the Deputy Headmistress had had little reason to argue), due to the medical risk of Abby being subject to any heightened emotional stress, Marcus Flint would be expelled if he harassed her again.

For what should have been good news, Abby had felt rather sad; the fact remained that, a mere week ago, as far as she had known, she and Marcus had been perfectly fine. Abby would never have thought that they could have had such animosity toward each other within a matter of days. And yet, over the following several days, when she had seen him in the hallways or the common room, she had felt only disgust. Disgust for him for shattering their three-year relationship by cheating on her (in some bizarre victim-falls-for-attacker complex) and humiliating her in front of most of the school. And disgust for herself for having been planning to lose her virginity to him that weekend, and had retaliated, in what she was now certain was a fit of madness, by throwing herself instead at his best friend.

Adrian Pucey. He had been a whole other layer of confusion, for his demeanor had made such a drastic one-eighty turn that she could not understand where she stood with him. He had gone from acting cool and carefree with a touch of cheeky flirtation that Monday morning to being distant and sullen by lunch through to the rest of the week. She had caught him stealing glances at her in class and at meals, but he had always immediately looked away at a jab from either Bletchley or Higgs. As she had yet to muster the courage to tell the other girls what had transpired, she brooded on this rejection in the silence of self-loathing.

It had been, as she had dreaded upon waking that first morning, the most terribly lonely feeling, and after the final class of the week had finished, she had decided that if she was going to be lonely, she would rather do it alone.

Now, she sat on her bed in the empty dormitory, dreadfully tired and emotionally overwhelmed, with a splitting headache and a nauseous stomach. She sighed, and looked down at Nightshade. Professor Lockhart peered back at her.

"I do hope you aren't in love with the silly boy, dear! Wouldn't that be a pickle?"

Abby snapped herself into consciousness and stared in horror at Nightshade, who was once again a cat. He returned her gaze with a narrow-eyed glare of annoyance that she could have sworn flashed yellow for but a moment. She shook her head to clear the last of nightmare.

"Were you actually just asleep sitting up?" Sam laughed from across the room.

"Apparently," Abby dropped her head into her hands as Nightshade jumped off the bed. "Good news: Lockhart is back in my dreams."

"Kipper again?"

"Cat."

"At least he's becoming more bearable as he goes," Sam shrugged, grabbing her cloak from her bedpost. "Everyone is in the common room about to go to dinner if you feel like showing your face?"

"Not really," Abby mumbled.

"Suit yourself," Sam shrugged and then turned back as she was about to leave again. "Oh - you missed it out there. We were all sitting together and Flint actually comes over to tell Terry and Bletch about practice tomorrow, and then goes and tells Adrian that he wishes he could play next game."

"Seriously?" Abby looked up from her hands and felt her stomach turn.

"Yeah. It was dead awkward," Sam affirmed. "But, I guess we've got Hufflepuff next and obviously the team plays better when they're actually talking to each other. Even if the Captain does deserve to be locked in a tank full of grindylows."

"And so it's Quidditch first and Marcus gets his way again," Abby said spitefully.

"Hey, I'm on your side - he can do one," Sam assured her. "Of course, Violet thinks he's trying to play nice to win you back."

"Yes, well, Violet also likes to pretend we're all characters in some tragic romance that she's writing," Abby rolled her eyes. "According to her, you can't even talk to someone without fancying them."

"Ooh, I'm going to use that on her when she starts up again," Sam laughed as she opened the door. "And for the record, I think you're well rid of that old troll."

Abby snorted as Sam left the room.

"Am I?" she asked aloud, though she was once again alone. Nightshade looked up for the briefest moment before returning to his bath. "Then why do I feel like things couldn't get any worse?"

As the tears began to stream down her cheeks, Abby threw herself face-first into her pillow. The thought of losing half of her closest friends was too much to bear on its own, let alone coupled with the heartbreak of having a boy - that boy - confess his supposed long-time feelings only to turn around and ignore her.

Exhausted, Abby cried until she could no longer stay awake.


Abby awoke from a blessedly dreamless sleep to the sound of soft scratching on wood, and looked around the room with blurry eyes. As far as she could tell, the dormitory was deserted, but there was definitely scratching coming from somewhere. Shaking her head to clear the fog from her brain, Abby slid back the blankets and shivered as her bare feet touched the cold stone floor. She pulled on her bedroom slippers and housecoat and crept across the room to investigate the source of the noise. When she reached the door, she stopped; the scratching was coming from the other side.

Apprehensively, she reached out and turned the doorknob and let out a surprised yelp as Nightshade pushed his way inside and darted passed her legs. She laughed at herself for being so easily spooked and picked the cat up for a cuddle.

"Poor baby, did someone lock you out this morning?" she cooed and scratched behind his ears while he purred happily. Her fingers brushed across something rough and she turned the cat's collar to find a piece of parchment attached to it. "What's this - are you an owl now?" she teased as she pulled the note free and released him to unroll it.

I miss you.

Abby's smile disappeared as she felt a lump form in her chest. She recalled Sam's report last night telling her that Violet suspected Flint of wanting her back, but she had not expected anything this soon. She stared at the three words and, as she felt tears once again threatening to fall, crumpled up the note and angrily threw it into the fireplace.

Wiping roughly at her eyes, Abby stormed out into the corridor, ready to tear a strip off Flint for using her beloved cat to do his dirty work, but calmed enough to think more clearly by the time she reached the entrance to the common room. She waited and listened for a moment and, when she did not immediately recognize any voices, peered around the corner. Flint was nowhere to be seen. Abby leaned back into the corridor and wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly realizing that she was still in her nightclothes.

"Right," she snarled and wiped her eyes again as she began the walk back to her dormitory. "If he wants to play games, I can play games, too."

She spent the next hour making certain both her hair and makeup were flawless.

"Oh, morning Abby - oh!" Sam looked up from where she was reading her Divination textbook by the fireplace in the common room and lost her train of thought at the sight of her dolled-up friend. "You certainly look smart. And now I feel like I'm forgetting something important."

"You're not. It just occurred to me that I haven't exactly been making an effort the last few days, have I?" Abby replied casually as she smoothed her lip gloss in a mirror.

"Oh no," Sam wrinkled her nose. "You're in revenge mode, aren't you? Like when you would row with Flint and then drive him mad by looking fab."

"I've no idea what you're on about," Abby said with feigned innocence.

"Uh-huh," Sam rolled her eyes. "Abby, just please promise me you won't take him back."

"As if," Abby drawled. "He's the one who ruined everything and I want him to know it."

"Right, so what is your plan, exactly?" Sam arched an eyebrow and closed her textbook. "Are you just intending to wait around until he's back from practice to drool over you? Or something more elaborate, perhaps? Swan about the school all day making all the other lads drool until he goes ballistic?"

"The second one sounds more fun," Abby smirked.

"Ugh, I was taking the mick."

"And now you're coming with me."

"What, like this? I'm in my comfies!" Sam whinged, indicating her usual casual wear of black-on-black leggings and halter top.

"Please, you look ace," Abby countered and pulled the other girl to her feet.

"Fine," Sam conceded as she smiled at the compliment. "Just let me get a jumper - I'm freezing today!"


The girls wandered and chatted for about an hour and a half, as Sam filled Abby in on what she had missed by being socially absent (though it was a considerably more halfhearted job than Violet would have done), and Abby shamelessly batted her eyes at anyone she caught looking. As they made their way down the third floor corridor, Sam grabbed Abby's hand and pulled her toward the library.

"Do you mind if we pop in here for a moment?" she asked. "I forgot. There's a few books for Divination that I meant to check out yesterday."

Abby hesitated and stared at the large open doors. "Of course, yeah," she smiled and quickly regained her composure. "I'll just browse til you're done," she added as Sam disappeared into the stacks with a thumb's up. Get a grip, she scolded herself. It's not as though the library can be avoided forever.

"Hullo, Abby!" a voice called her out of her thoughts and she turned to see Hermione Granger waving her over to a small study nook where she had her homework spread out before her . "I was hoping to bump into you today - I've got the notes you loaned me."

"Oh, cheers," Abby nodded, sorting through the stack of parchment as it was handed to her. "Did anything pique your interest, then?"

"Oh, yes! All of it!" Hermione beamed. "It's all so fascinating! I intend to sign up for every new class next year."

Abby gaped at the girl. "That's - a lot. You know you've got til Easter holiday to decide, yeah?" At the mention of Easter, Abby winced in surprise; the back of her neck tingled peculiarly and was accompanied by that intangible flash that happens when a memory is triggered but flits away before it can be recognized. What am I meant to be remembering about Easter?

"I know, but I'm so excited to learn as much as I can - oh, are you all right?" Hermione's tone changed as the other girl rubbed the back of her neck, looking bewildered.

"I honestly don't know," Abby admitted. "I think I almost remembered something but I've no idea what it was."

The girls exchanged frustrated frowns. "I'm sorry you're having to go through all of this," Hermione said genuinely. "It must be terribly trying."

"Do you know, the most annoying bit - oh, thank you," Abby interrupted herself, remembering her manners. "The most annoying bit is feeling like I'm giving a report on a paper that I haven't even read. I feel like, if I could just recall something about last year, then everything else that's happened would at least make sense," she sighed and looked at Hermione suspiciously. "You knew, didn't you?"

"I put the pieces together before Madam Pomfrey could stop me," Hermione admitted. "She made me swear not to say anything. But it felt wrong to let you believe the lie."

"Everyone was given the same instructions, don't feel bad," Abby shrugged, absently tracing a faded carving in the table that someone had evidently vandalized years ago. "Any road, the Dragon Pox doesn't seem to be interested in coming back."

"That must be a relief," the younger girl smiled encouragingly. "And you do look like you're feeling better."

"This is all for show, love," Abby rolled her eyes. "A bit of slap to knock the boys back in line."

"Consider me knocked, then."

"Just when you think he's out, she pulls him back in."

Abby and Hermione turned to see Fred and George Weasley leaning casually against the bookshelf wearing identical grins. Hermione instinctively went to tell them off on Abby's behalf, but stopped short as the blonde girl unexpectedly smiled.

"Still following me around then, Fred?" she retorted, though there was no trace of the usual venom in her voice. "Don't you have any other arch nemeses to check up on?"

"Fresh out, so he's circled back to you," George shrugged.

"You tend to have a much higher probability of landing yourself in a pickle and we didn't want Olly beating us to it again," Fred added.

"Well, I appreciate the thought but I'm just smashing, thank you," Abby replied as Hermione gaped at the three of them.

"I should say," Fred returned with a wink. Abby blushed.

"We actually just wanted to give you this," George said as he tossed her a pack of Peppermint Toads. "For, er, not spoiling things for us."

"I said you shouldn't get anything because you were really quite foul to me," Fred grinned. "But George said I probably deserved it."

"You did," Abby stuck out her tongue, keeping up the game, but truthfully she was feeling rather overwhelmed at the unexpected gift; with the frustration of the past week, the unsolicited gesture of kindness was such a change of pace that she immediately felt her eyes begin to mist. She shook her head to put a stop to it and smiled at them. "Thank you. I love these."

"Mint," Fred smiled back as the twins peeled themselves off the bookshelf and turned to leave. "Hermione, lovely to see you as well. Tara."

"Don't ask," Abby pointed her finger at Hermione who was staring at her incredulously.

"I wouldn't even know where to begin," Hermione went back to her studying. "This has been a very strange year."

"Understatement of my life," Abby drawled, turning the packet of Peppermint Toads over in her hand and lamenting selecting an outfit without pockets. She settled for folding them into her notes for safekeeping and waved to Hermione. "See you later, then."

Abby wandered through the library, staring at the notes and candy and wondering why she had spent the morning putting so much effort into seeking the attention of those who didn't appreciate her. And the ones who have actually made me smile today like Sam, Fred and Granger are the people I don't appreciate, she rolled her eyes, fully aware of her own hypocrisy and wishing that she was wearing something more comfortable, relaxing somewhere warm.

"Oi," she called Sam's attention as she located her friend where she was searching through a pile of books. "I should have followed your lead with the jumper this morning. I'm going to go down and get one and then I'll meet you in the Great Hall for lunch, yeah?"

"I was wondering how you weren't starving after missing dinner and breakfast," Sam laughed as Abby's stomach gurgled on cue. "I'll catch you up in a bit."

Abby blew a kiss and headed back toward the library entrance, perusing through her note pages as she went. She landed once more on the research paper and let her eyes wander down to where Professor Dumbledore's message was scrawled at the bottom.

Come and speak to me more about this when you return. - AD

Abby blinked and re-read the sentence to make sure she wasn't imagining things; the words now meant something completely different than when Hermione had pointed them out in the Hospital Wing. 'When you return' no longer referred to Durmstrang, as she had believed not so long ago, but to St. Mungo's, or perhaps, knowing Dumbledore's tendency to mean more by saying less, meant something more akin to returning to her own mind.

"Well, I'm back from one, Professor. Jury's still out on the other," she mumbled to herself as she turned the parchment over in search of any other mysterious notes. "Wonder if it'll do."

"Wow."

Abby stopped in her tracks just short of crashing into the other person on her way out of the library (which was becoming something of a habit) and clutched the notes to her chest in surprise. Adrian Pucey threw up his hands in anticipation of a collision and took a step back for safety sake.

"You look cracking."

A darkness passed over Abby's face and she felt her jaw involuntarily clench as she stared a hole through his head. Seeing her cheeks turning red, Pucey nervously ran his fingers through his hair and looked at her sheepishly.

"Did, er, did you get my note this morning?" he asked hesitantly.

"Your note?" she hissed. "Your note? Oh! Do you by-chance mean the note that Nightshade was coerced into delivering that I assumed was from Marcus, which made my stomach turn so violently that I ran out in my pajamas with every intention of cracking him over the head with the fireplace poker? That note, Adrian?"

"Ah-"

"Because that note opened my day just so fabulously after crying myself to sleep last night because my so-called best friend hasn't said two words to me all week! Well, until you now rocked up with 'er, you look cracking.'" She said the last bit in the slow drawl that teenagers use to mimic somebody sounding stupid.

"Abby, look, I know, you have every right to be upset with me-"

"Oh! Do I, Adrian? Do I have that right? Oh, thank you - don't touch me!" He held up his fingers to his mouth as she protested being pulled to one side of the corridor. Several students passed and peered at them curiously. She glared at them, and then carried on in a lower volume. "I really appreciate you giving me permission to feel like a complete idiot after last weekend-"

"No, stop, Abby, please don't say that," Pucey shook his head and reached for her free hand, sandwiching it between his and looking her directly in the eye. "You're not an idiot, all right? I am. I'm a complete bloody idiot and I know it. I hurt you and I'm sorry."

"You acted like everything was fine," her voice cracked and she took a deep breath before continuing. "I was only fine because you let me believe it was fine! And then suddenly it was like I didn't exist."

"I'm an idiot," Pucey repeated softly, trying to calm her down. "I freaked out and I panicked when I should have just talked to you. I've been a rubbish friend and I made a pig's ear of everything." He held her eye contact, searching for some sign that she believed him. "And I'm so sorry. Both for making you feel like this and for them raccoon eyes you're getting."

She laughed, despite herself, and then scowled and swatted him with the stack of parchment. The Peppermint Toads went flying, and he caught them in mid-air and handed them back to her.

"You just - you know I've never-" she cut herself off as more students passed (two of which she was half-sure had passed going the other way a moment ago) and wiped at the mascara under her eyes. She continued in a whisper, "You really hurt me, Ade."

"Whatever you need me to do, just tell me and I'll do it."

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and stood up and she froze as an image formed in her mind's eye. She saw a clear image of Pucey leaning coolly against the wall next to her hospital bed, catching her up on whatever news she was missing from the group while Healers bustled about in the background. She remembered moaning about how terrible the tea was and what she would do for a good brew. He had replied, "Whatever you need me to do, just tell me and I'll do it."

She opened her eyes and stared at him quizzically. "What did you say?"

"Abby, whatever you need me to do to fix this - to make it up to you - just tell me and I'll do it," Pucey repeated with clarification.

"No, I mean, did you say that before?"

"What, just now?"

"In Hospital."

"What?"

"I think it must be St. Mungo's. Did - did you visit me there?"

"Oh," Pucey furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of the subject change. "Yeah, over Easter holiday, and-" (Easter!) "Wait," he looked at her funny as she felt her skin crawl at the deja vu. "Do you remember that? Did you just remember something?"

"I think I did, yeah," she nodded, steadying herself against the wall and scratching the back of her neck where it was still tingling.

"Abby, that's great!" he exclaimed with genuine relief in his voice.

"Oh! Hi Adrian, Abby - you didn't make it very far, did you?" Sam commented as she exited the library with an armload of books. "What's so great?"

"Nothing! Oh, er, I had a funny turn," Abby stumbled, having expected a different question, and cast a side glance at Pucey, who had opened his mouth to say something but no sound had come out. "And I think I remembered something from last year."

"Oh, wow!" Sam beamed. "Abby, that's brill! Tell us what it was on the way to lunch - oh! Did you still want to go get a jumper?"

"Here, wear mine," Pucey found his voice and quickly unzipped his hoodie, handing it to her. "Skip the detour. I'm starving."

Abby looked at him with a mixture of annoyance and gratitude and accepted the offer, feeling instantly more comfortable as she slid her arms into the roomy sleeves. It smelled like him, too, and she silently scolded herself for noticing.

"Shall we?" she motioned toward the staircase as she shoved the notes and candy into his hoodie pocket.


The three of them headed down toward the Great Hall as Abby recounted the details that she could discern from the memory. Pucey and Sam were able to verify as fact what she remembered from the conversation in St. Mungo's, and that he had indeed told her, among other news, that:

-Bletchley had become so paranoid about getting sick that he drank enough Pepperup Potion to keep him awake for three days straight, during which he befriended a sofa.

-Lara had singed off the bottom third of her hair practicing fire charms for her O.W.L.s and that was why she was wearing it short this year.

-Everyone had been pretty sure that Higgs and Aretha had snogged while on Prefect patrol one night but they had never admitted it and nothing had ever come of it.

They howled at the last memory as they crossed the Entrance Hall and waved to Higgs and Bletchley, who were just coming in from practice with the rest of the team. Higgs took one look and shot Pucey an incredulous glare but received only an eye-roll in return.

Violet jumped up from where she sat with Lara and Aretha at the Slytherin table and embraced Abby as she joined them.

"Oh, Abigail! I'm so pleased to see you up and about!" she gushed as Pucey and Sam took the next two seats on Abby's other side. "I wasn't sure if you would be feeling up for it today, you've been looking that peaky all week."

"Cheers," Abby wrinkled her nose.

"We were all just concerned about you, is all," Lara clarified in an airy tone.

"Hey, get this - Abby's started to remember bits of last year!" Sam interjected and Abby threw her a gracious look for changing the subject from her apparent week-long dreadful appearance.

"That's wonderful!" Violet squealed as she and the other two girls clapped in celebration and even some of the other Slytherins near enough to overhear offered words of encouragement.

Higgs and Bletchley burst into the Great Hall puffing, having changed as quickly as possible and half-run from the common room. The former whispered something to the latter and they broke apart as though running a Quidditch play, headed for different targets.

"Ladies!" Bletchley turned on what he apparently believed was charm and squeezed himself between Violet and Abby with an arm around each. "Take pity on your favourite Keeper and warm us up? I think I froze my toes off out there!" Had it been anyone else, the action would have been seen as an assault on their personal space. But Bletchley was harmless and the girls tended to treat him as though he was more akin to a scruffy dog that had wandered into their social circle and never left.

"Ohhh," they both cooed, laughing and rubbing his back from both sides. "Poor baby!"

"What do you think you're playing at?" Higgs grabbed Pucey's far elbow, turning him away from the trio.

"Putting things right," Pucey replied coolly, twisting his arm out of Higgs' grip.

"Wait, what does that mean?" Sam raised an eyebrow as she shifted her stack of books to make room for Higgs to sit.

"Here, Patrick, did you hear what we were saying before?" Violet started to fill Bletchley in on the news. "Abby's memory has started to come back!"

"Only a little bit, but it's a start," Abby smiled happily.

"Abs, that's ace!" Bletchley grinned. "Then you remembered you said you would do all my homework for the rest of the year?"

"Strange, that one seems to have vanished," she smirked. "But I do now recall your budding affair with that squashy old sofa in the common room."

"You leave Mrs Davenport out of this," Bletchley winked at her as the four girls laughed.

"Flint was all funny about you leaving practice early after you said you would help train up Warrington," Higgs was talking fast.

"It was freezing out there!" Pucey shrugged. "I don't want to be out there if I'm not playing!"

"Don't act like he's rational enough to understand that," Higgs hissed. "If he comes in here and sees you next to her - it's bad enough she's wearing your jumper! Now, budge up." He shoved Pucey down the bench and squeezed himself between him and Abby.

"What are you talking about?" Sam gaped at them as Flint entered the Great Hall. "Why are you worried about Flint?"

Abby's eyes flicked toward the Captain; he had stopped to talk to someone on his way over and she felt a strange numbness wash over her body; the other boy motioned vaguely in her direction and she was certain he had been one of the gawkers outside the library earlier.

Sam looked from Pucey and Higgs, who exchanged a serious look, to Flint, who was now approaching the table, to Abby, who jumped in surprise as she looked away from Flint to find Higgs next to her.

"Adrian, what did you do?" she asked him in a whisper as Higgs shot her a telling look and Bletchley jumped to his feet, realizing that he still had an arm around Abby, and proceeded to climb over the table ("Mr Bletchley, get down from there!") to sit across from her and next to Lara instead.

"All right, lads? Girls?" Flint asked with a glint in his eye as he came up behind the scattered Keeper, letting his gaze slide over each of them in turn. "You've gone soft on us, Ade. I thought you were going to stay out with us for the whole practice."

"You had it well in hand, mate," Pucey returned easily, reaching for a piece of crusty bread. "Warrington doesn't exactly play my style. Not much more I could help with."

"Lucky for me you showed up when you did, though," Sam blurted out, picking up on what was going on. "I need the help with my project."

All eyes turned to look at her. "You? Needed help from him?" Flint raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Cheers," Pucey shot back sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact, yeah," Sam stalled as she dug into her pockets for inspiration and breathed a sigh of relief as her fingers found her tarot deck. "I need an unbiased subject for a reading," she said as she produced the cards. "Can't exactly keep using Abby or I'll get told off by Madam Pomfrey again."

"And you lot thought I was good for nowt but Quidditch," Pucey smiled wryly.

"Funny, because a little birdie told me the two of you had a bit of a row after you went back in," Flint returned casually, indicating Pucey and Abby, and clapping Bletchley on the shoulder. The Keeper's eyes widened and he anxiously stuffed his mouth full of food. Flint reached for an apple as he grinned at them. "Must have been an exciting reading, yeah?"

"Not that it's any of your business, Marcus," Abby found her voice, though it had a hint of a wobble in it. "But what I was having was a panic attack."

"Yeah?" he eyed her. "Why?"

"My memory started to return," she eyed him right back.

"That so?" he said simply and took a bite of the apple. They stared each other down for what became an uncomfortably long time. Lara and Aretha shifted awkwardly in their seats where he hovered behind them, still with one hand clamped on Bletchley's shoulder. Finally, he swallowed the bite and smiled. "Well, that's nice for you, then," he said, adding after a moment, "Nice jumper." Then he wandered off, whistling to himself.

"Is it me, or is he, like, ten million times more intimidating when he's calm?" Violet asked aloud to the group as Bletchley looked about to vomit. Lara patted his shoulder. "My hands are actually shaking - look!"

"Is that true, then?" a voice asked from behind Abby. "Is your memory coming back?"

The group turned to see Draco looking expectantly at his sister.

"Yes, I think. Sort of. I don't know," Abby corrected herself. "I remember one conversation. It's not as though it's all been miraculously restored."

Draco stared at her with an irritated snarl on his face. "Father told me that the Healers couldn't even give him an answer on whether or not you would ever remember anything at all," he said severely. "Our mother fretted all summer about you coming back here, but she tried not to show it. She wrote letters to everyone with instructions on how to protect you, including this group of wankers you call mates-"

"Um, excuse me!" Violet huffed, but Draco was not finished.

"Good job she told me as well," he continued imperiously. "So I'm not about to let you sit there and tell me it isn't absolutely massive that you remember anything at all!"

"Well," Pucey said after a moment, with an admittedly impressed smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's us all told."

Draco shot him a look that said he might give Pucey an individual telling off as well, but Abby stood and motioned for her brother to follow her. They moved away from the group under one of the hall's large stained glass windows.

"Are you all right?" she asked him, genuinely concerned.

"No, I'm not, actually," Draco huffed. "I've barely seen you since Christmas - which makes it difficult to keep an eye on you, obviously. And whenever I do see you, you're always looking pale." He scowled, rather annoyed at what he was letting himself admit. "I was worried you were getting sick again, all right? Especially after that stunt Flint pulled - and why do you allow him speak to you the way he does? You're above him!"

"It doesn't exactly work that way, Draco," Abby sighed.

"Since when?" Draco countered. "You never used to let anyone off for it. None of your other subordinates talk to you like that," he waved his hand in the direction of her social circle.

"Well, first off, they're my mates, not my subordinates," Abby drawled.

"Tell him off!" Draco interrupted her. "I told Flint off in front of the school, so can you! He isn't scary, he's just a great old wazzock."

"Adrian mentioned you did that, actually," she smiled after snorting at the insult to Flint. "I meant to say thank you."

"Yeah, well," Draco's tantrum seemed to be losing steam. "Thank me by sending a letter to our parents - today. And you could let me know what's going on so I don't have to eavesdrop on you."

"Draco, I swear, it happened barely a half hour ago," she assured him.

"Good," he drawled. "Because while you are my stupid sister, I do give a toss. We're Malfoys. Pull yourself together and act like one!"


After lunch, the entire group accompanied Abby to check in with Madam Pomfrey, who was elated at the news. After a few quick tests, she echoed Draco's instructions to write to her parents while she in turn would report back to the St. Mungo's Healers.

As they all headed back to the common room together, Pucey tugged on Abby's sleeve and they discretely dropped back a couple paces until they were out of earshot.

"I still can't believe Draco said all that to you this morning," he snickered.

"I'm as gobsmacked as you are," she shook her head.

"I'm sorry about the note," he whispered. "Your cat was sitting out there as we were headed up to practice and I had to write quickly before anyone noticed."

"Outside of that tired old option of just speaking to me at any point this week, you mean," she rolled her eyes.

"As previously explained, I'm an idiot," he conceded. "I let Terry and Bletch convince me that it was best to stay clear until everything blew over."

"You told them?" he gaped at him.

"They sussed it out," he replied. "Reckon Sam's done the same by now."

They walked in silence for a few minutes as they sorted their thoughts. Pucey watched as Higgs and Bletchley discussed Quidditch tactics a little more loudly than was necessary and realized that they were providing noise coverage. Looking beyond them, he spied Sam shuffling and reshuffling her tarot deck, keeping the other girls distracted as they took turns drawing cards.

"What if it wasn't a secret?" he asked carefully.

"Then everything gets more complicated, doesn't it?" she arched an eyebrow and shoved her hands into the pocket of his hoodie, feeling the crunch of the Peppermint Toads wrapper. "Isn't that what you were trying to avoid?"

He took a deep breath before he responded, trying to decide how to properly word what he wanted to say. She watched him and found that she was quite nervous about his answer and what it might mean.

"Actually, I think I freaked out because you're not just some bird," he began, exhaling slowly. "You're the girl I always fancied but knew nothing would ever happen. Only now it has and-" he trailed off and bit his thumbnail thoughtfully.

"And what?" she gently prodded.

He looked at her imploring eyes and blurted out the truth before he could think better of it. "I guess I just need to know that I'm not a rebound."

The pure honesty in his dark eyes stung; it had never occurred to her that he had been feeling just as vulnerable as she had been feeling about what had happened between them. She bit her bottom lip but before she had a chance to respond, Sam dropped back to their position.

"Here, slowpokes, you both need to draw a card as well," she said as she held the tarot deck out to them. "I've just had an idea to develop a way to do group readings and I need all your juicy energies."

"I'm fine with anything but more psychedelics," Abby snapped herself out and slapped a sarcastic smile on her face as she selected a card: The Moon.

"Wow, you used to be fun," Pucey replied jokingly as he drew a card for himself, turning over the Three of Swords.

"And you two could stand to be a touch less obvious," Sam lowered her voice as she took both their cards and shook Pucey's in his face. "The Three of Swords, Adrian? Really?" She swatted him with it. "How many times am I going to have to cover for you today? Pick a new one and I'll do a proper reading for you later."

Not knowing how to react to Sam's bluntness or why he was being yelled at for picking a card at random, Pucey selected a new one while he and Abby stared, wide-eyed and speechless, at the other girl. Sam gave them one last warning glare and then moved on to Higgs and Bletchley.

"What's wrong with the Three of Swords?" Pucey asked after a moment. "What's it mean?"

"Usually romantic betrayal and secret affairs," Abby replied softly, and then burst into laughter. She couldn't explain why her body chose to react this way, but, between such bizarre moments as the unexpected memory trigger, the newfound friendliness with the Weasley twins, the telling-off from Draco and the bare honesty from Pucey, today had obviously been an overload for her emotional capabilities.

"Abigail, are you quite all right?" Violet asked as the group turned as one to look at her, various levels of shock on their faces.

"I'm fine!" she managed to squeak between breaths.

"Are you sure?" Higgs asked skeptically. "Because this feels more 'hysterical' than 'fine.'"

"Really, I am," she assured him even as she began to cough and sink to the floor. The other seven crowded around her and a few passing students looked curiously in her direction. "My bloody brain is broken and turned my life upside-down," she continued as she caught her breath. "But for the first time in what is, I suppose, over a year now - yeah! I'm all right," she concluded, which just made her laugh again. The sound was infectious and the situation so absurd that, one-by-one, the others began to join her in laughter.

"Well, that's better than the gloom your Moon is reporting," Sam grinned, holding up the card. "Unless it's just referring to your reoccurring Lockhart dreams, which, yes, before anyone says it, are my fault."

"On your feet, you loony," Pucey held out his hand to her and pulled her upright as the group continued their trek to the common room.

Abby gave his hand a squeeze and held on for longer than necessary (though he made no move to detach either). Higgs threw a balled-up piece of parchment at them, which Pucey caught, never one to miss a pass. He got the hint, however, and released Abby's hand as another wave of students passed them.

"This is a disaster," Higgs groaned as he drew a card and handed it back to Sam: The Hermit. "They aren't even trying to hide it anymore."

"How long have you known?" Sam wrinkled her nose.

"All week," Bletchley shook his head.

"I knew something was funny, but I couldn't put my finger on it," she glanced back at Pucey and Abby before turning the deck to Bletchley. "You have to admit, though. They are cute together."

"Great, we'll carve that on their headstones," Higgs rolled his eyes as Bletchley snorted and then nearly tripped over his own feet as he turned over the Death card.


Higgs' prediction would be realized sooner rather than later, and that afternoon in the half-filled common room, the group's newfound peace was destined to be shattered like a dropped looking glass.

Sam was seated cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace with her notes in her lap and the selected tarot cards organized on the table in front of her like the spokes of a wheel. The other four girls kept a curious eye on her as she arranged and rearranged the order, stopping each time to consult her textbook and then jot down whatever new information she had gleaned. Conversely, the boys, two of whom had quickly ducked into their dormitory and returned with bloodshot eyes, could not be less interested and instead poured over the Quidditch results in that morning's Daily Prophet.

Abby sat in the sofa's middle seat with a half-finished letter to her parents in her lap, Violet next to her and Lara and Aretha standing behind them, leaning on the back of the cushions. Pucey was on her other side with his attention turned to Higgs, who was in the adjacent armchair with the newspaper, and Bletchley, who was facing backward in a wooden desk chair he had angled between them.

"I can't believe the Falcons lost to Pride of Portree," Bletchley scowled. "They started out the year fine!"

"After that big win last match, too," Higgs frowned, scanning the article. "Which they don't even mention. Just a smear about their 'lackluster performance' - I could write a better article than this!"

"It'll be all right," Pucey assured them. "They're rebuilding. Give it time."

"Imagine if we could poach Jenkins from the Cannons," Bletchley grinned. "They don't deserve him. Nobody that skilled should be stuck playing for that orange nightmare." Higgs and Pucey laughed in approval and Bletchley looked over at where Sam was working. "Here, Sam! I still feel like that Death card is pants - can I please draw a new one?"

"Bletch, I promise you, it symbolizes change," Sam replied evenly without looking up. "It doesn't mean you're going to die."

"Would you miss me if it did?" he asked and wiggled his eyebrows at her. She sighed at herself for walking blindly into his joke and shot him an exasperated smile before returning to the reading.

"Anything in there that says we'll all be lying on a beach somewhere hot this summer?" Lara asked as Sam made yet another card re-arrangement. "I need something to look forward to if I'm going to survive this stupid winter."

"Not just yet," Sam admitted, flipping to another page in her textbook. "But, of course, rather than rely on the Fates to whisk us away, we could just do something completely mad and book a trip to Ibiza."

"Ohh, Ibiza!" the other four girls sighed in unison.

"Right, that's it," Aretha declared. "That needs to be the plan. No matter what! I can't stand being jealous anymore of you two having gone before," she laughed, pointing at Abby and Violet.

"I'll have Daddy arrange it," Abby replied with a sly smile and licked the end of her quill.

"Am I invited on this vacation, then?"

All eight heads turned to see who had spoken. Flint stood leaning in the entrance to the dormitories, making an effort to pull his toothy grin into something charming. The air in the room suddenly changed; those who had not been outwardly paying any attention to the group by the fireplace had become suspiciously interested, as if in anticipation.

"Private conversation," Sam self-consciously muttered as she jotted down another note.

"Why on earth would you think you would be invited, Marcus?" Violet folded her arms and instinctively shifted closer to Abby, who linked arms with her as she did.

"To get back to normal, of course," Flint sneered in return. "Once Abby lets me make things up to her."

"You're joking," Abby stared at him angrily, feeling Violet and Pucey tense on either side of her.

"I'm not," he returned. "I've been a bit of a shite boyfriend, yeah." ("A bit?") "I know I should've been more patient with you being doolally and all. But I've been thinking-" he paused, expecting another smart remark but instead received only a collective eye-roll from the girls, "-since your memory is coming back now, we could just remember the good times and give it another go?" He leered at her from opposite the sofa. "What do you say, babe? Give us another chance?"

"Marcus," Abby looked him directly in the eye after taking a moment to steady her nerves, hoping to speak without any trace of wobble in her voice this time. "I would give the Dragon Pox another chance before you."

"Right," Flint's eyes darkened. "Is that why you're sat next to him? Or are you going to deny that there's summat going on between you two?"

Pucey bit the inside of his cheek and worked very hard not to show it while Abby glared daggers at Flint. Bletchley stared helplessly at his mate before putting his head down on his folded arms. Lara and Aretha's heads snapped so quickly in Abby's direction it was a wonder they didn't both get whiplash. Sam pursed her lips and exchanged a look of dread with Higgs. The scattered students around the common room fell silent and even more closely attentive, waiting to hear what Abby had to say - but it was Violet who spoke first.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Marcus," she spat. "Your jealousy has always been out of control but this is ridiculous. You know perfectly well that Abby and Adrian have always been close. What about me? I'm sitting next to her as well - is there something going on between Abby and I and all?"

"Please don't tease me like that," Bletchley blurted out before his brain could stop him.

"Bletch, Bletch, Bletch," Flint's attention turned to the other boy, who shrank down in his chair. "What can we say about you, hey? An absolute cracker of a Keeper, and yet somehow complete rubbish at keeping any kind of secret." He moved around the circle to stand over Bletchley. "Must be all that cannabis. And something tells me that if Pothead One has a secret, then Pothead Two knows about it." He reached over to grab the back on the desk chair and effortlessly turned it around with Bletchley still in it so that he was face-to-face with the other boy.

"So tell me, Patrick: is my best mate shagging my ex?"

Nobody breathed.

Bletchley broke out in a cold sweat, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water struggling to breathe. Abby was seething, but the longer she went without shouting at him, the less confident Violet became in her innocence, and she looked questioningly sideways at her friend. Lara's hands went over her mouth and Aretha looked around the room, taking mental note of the number of witnesses. Higgs and Sam stared pointedly at Pucey, who met their eyes and set his jaw as he summoned the courage to do what he had to do. Everyone in the room turned their attention to him as he stood and faced Flint.

"Leave Bletch out of this, Flint. I-"

Flint caught him with a sucker punch before he could come close to finishing what he was about to say. Pucey's head snapped back and his hands flew to his face as he stumbled backwards.

"You bloody snake."

Pucey squinted in the direction of Flint's voice with heavily watering eyes, feeling the blood begin to stream down over his mouth and into his cupped hands. His ears were ringing and he could feel the pressure building in his face as his nose began to swell. He reflexively licked his lips, tasted iron, and removed his hands from his face to spit it out. The gasp from the crowd at the sight of him was strangely amusing.

"All right. I deserved that," he heard his own voice say in a strange tone, as if he was entertained by the outcome.

"Oh, do you reckon?" said another sarcastic voice from a different direction that he was sure belonged to either Derrick or Bole (it was difficult to be sure over the piercing whistle in his ears), which set the rest of the various Slytherins off.

"Wait, so it's true then?"

"He just admitted it!"

"As good as, anyway."

"Wow."

"Kick his arse, Flint,"

("Can't really blame him.")

"The Abby Malfoy show continues."

"You are such a slapper, Abby."

That one did not sit well; Pucey's stomach knotted as he discovered that he did not mind the broken nose nearly as much as that last comment. Hearing Abby verbally attacked flipped a new defensive switch inside his brain and he pulled himself upright.

"Got that out of your system?" he called the attention back to himself, staring at Flint's blurry outline as it slowly began to come into focus.

"Just getting started," Flint shot back, rubbing his knuckles.

"You know what, Marcus?" Pucey stuck his chin out. "Go ahead. Have another shot. Because, yeah, I do deserve it. I fancied your girlfriend. For years. But nothing ever happened until you cocked it up for yourself, you miserable ego-maniac."

Flint threw another punch and Pucey dodged, catching only a glancing blow on his cheek that had still enough power to knock him sideways into a bookshelf.

"Bloody hell!"

"Are you happy, Abby?"

"Hit him again, Flint!"

"That is a lot of blood."

"Flint, stop!"

Higgs and Bletchley had found their voices and vaulted out of their seats to form a shaky wall between Flint and Pucey. The Captain glowered at the pair of them as though attempting to will them aside.

"I'll assume you both knew, then?" he snarled at them.

"I can take a few more, lads, give us some credit," Pucey saved them from answering, pulling himself back up again and leaning between them on their shoulders. His left cheek was now racing to catch up with his swelling nose and he pulled his mouth into a blood-stained half-grin that made even Flint momentarily uneasy. "He's losing his touch."

"You had best shut your gob," Flint warned.

"You had best leave my brother alone!"

"Matty," Pucey said in a sudden warning tone to his younger sibling, who had entered the common room and immediately reached for his wand. "Stay out of this."

"Ade, your face," Matthew protested.

"It always heals, dunnit?" Pucey's reply was loaded, and the brothers exchanged meaningful looks. "Back off. This one's mine."

"Touching," Flint said sarcastically, setting off a bout of snickering. "Shall I knock your teeth down your throat, now?"

"Oh, go ahead and do it," Pucey drawled. Then his eyes went a bit wild and he laughed strangely. "Only tell us all again how exactly you're the victim in this when you did the cheating but she and I were free and single?"

"I've got an even better story."

Pucey, Higgs and Bletchley looked passed Flint, who turned to find Abby with her wand pointed at his back. Flint sneered as those in the watching crowd began to point and whisper.

"Do tell," he smugly invited her to continue.

"I heard it from Professor McGonagall," she smiled sweetly and looked him pointedly in the eye. "Wonderful storyteller, she is. It's called 'If Marcus Flint harasses me again, I can report him and have him expelled.' Can you guess what it's about?"

Flint's upper lip curled.

"Typical Abby," one of the seventh year girls, Elizabeth Ogden, interrupted with a sneer. "Always have to be the centre of attention. Imagine actually thinking everything is always about you."

"I don't know how you can even show your face," said her friend, Celeste Marlowe. "I saw the two of you with your hands all over each other earlier today."

"I bet she's been gagging for it," Elizabeth agreed cruelly.

Abby's blue eyes flashed and her mind echoed Draco's sentiments from lunch. We're Malfoys. Pull yourself together and act like one!

"The only one who's been gagging for anything around here is you, Elizabeth," she replied evenly. "Unless you really think nobody can see how desperate you are for Marcus's attention? Maybe he'll notice you now - oh, but he's still obsessed with me. How sad for you.

"And as for how I can show my face, Celeste?" Abby turned her attention to the second girl as Elizabeth's gaze flicked to Flint. Her eyes narrowed as she remembered suddenly that Celeste had got away with making a snide comment about her earlier in the week; she would not be allowing a repeat. "At least I can show my face without turning everyone in the room to stone. You should thank me, really. If I wasn't here, who would balance you out?"

"Bloody savage," Pucey laughed, spitting blood down his chin.

Flint spun back around at the sound of Pucey's voice and landed a balled fist just below his rib-cage. The air rushed from Pucey's lungs and he collapsed, coughing, between Higgs and Bletchley, who shouted at Flint once more, holding their hands up to him.

"Marcus!" Abby hissed at him, raising her wand again. "I mean it!"

"If you don't do it, Abby, I will," Sam rushed to her side, wand drawn.

"I'm finished," Flint snarled and spat at the ground in front of Pucey. "You can have what's left of your new boyfriend back."

"That's it?" Pucey wheezed, trying to catch his breath. "This was just getting fun."

"Ade, what is wrong with you?" Higgs demanded and he and Bletchley crouched down to look him in the eye.

"I still had one move left, is all," Pucey shrugged, managing to push himself to his knees. He touched his cheek curiously, then spat out a tooth, which made him laugh - an uncomfortable sound that was a mixture of disbelief and madness. Looking like an absolute wild man, he dug into his back pocket and produced a folded piece of parchment. "Aha!"

"What's that, your will?" Flint scoffed.

"Possibly," he smirked and handed it up to Bletchley. "Read that, will you, mate? Only my fingers are a bit sticky." The Keeper took the letter and unfolded it, gingerly avoiding the bloody fingerprints. As he began to skim through it, his eyes widened. "Out loud," Pucey elaborated on his request.

"Is this real?" Bletchley gaped at Pucey, who sat back on his haunches and laughed again before starting another round of coughing.

"What is it?"

"Spit it out!"

"Who cares? Hit him again, Flint!"

"What is going on with you, today, Carter?"

"I don't like him."

"Bletch, what does it say?"

"It's an invitation to the Falcons' training camp next summer," Bletchley's eyes bulged as he read and then turned to his friend. "You've got a tryout?"

"I've got a tryout," Pucey echoed, spitting another glob of blood on the stone floor. Several students in the common room gave whoops of excitement; the rest made sounds of disgust. Flint only stared at him darkly. "Came Monday."

"No way!" Matthew exclaimed excitedly, running toward his brother as Higgs snatched the letter from Bletchley. Evidently, the news was enough to counter the sight of Pucey's mangled visage.

Flint stood clenching and un-clenching his fists, apparently trying to make up his mind about whether or not to hit Pucey again. He had shown up with the intention of humiliating both him and Abby for what they had done, but she had stood up to him and he had been keeping an ace up his sleeve the entire time.

"Today has certainly taken an unexpected turn," Draco seemingly materialized next to Abby as she watched Flint skulk from the common room with one last glare in her direction.

"Don't you start," she rolled her eyes and pocketed her wand. Her hands began to shake as she relaxed her guard with Flint gone, though she was hyper-aware of how many others were now whispering and gesturing in her direction.

"I wouldn't dream of it. In fact, it's nice to see you disposing of the riff-raff like you used to," he replied with a smirk toward Celeste and Elizabeth, who also darted into the corridor along with several other students. It did not take an exceptional genius to realize that they were rushing off to spread the juicy new gossip. "Welcome back. Now, if we could only do something about your taste in men. I mean, really - him?"

"Oh, stuff it," she swatted at him, which he easily dodged, and then turned to Sam. "Where's Violet?"

"She was just here," Sam arched an eyebrow and looked around the common room. Both girls turned in every direction but Violet, along with Lara and Aretha, was nowhere to be seen. "Weird."

"Hey, you all right?"

Abby turned back around as she felt a hand slip into hers, only to reel backward in fright at the swollen face dripping blood before her. Her reaction alarmed Sam badly enough for her to let out a startled squeak, and even Draco jumped.

"Bloody fucking hell, Adrian!" Abby swore loudly and grabbed at her heart. "What are you trying to do, scare me half to death?"

"Soz," he smirked at her profanity and wrapped his arms around her as she ducked into his embrace and sighed heavily as she squeezed him. "So, just to be sure, this is not a rebound, correct?" She peeled one arm out of their hug and held up a two finger salute without looking up from where her head was buried in his chest. "Right. Cool. Just checking."

"We really should get you to the Hospital Wing, mate," Higgs said as he, Bletchley and Matthew approached.

"Lucky Madam Pomfrey," Pucey replied as he gingerly touched the side of his nose. "Gets to see me twice in one afternoon."

"Flint went out that way," Sam noted. "We may want to wait until we're sure the coast is clear."

"Something tells me he won't bother with us," Higgs glanced at Abby, thinking about her threat of expulsion.