Abby found herself in much better spirits the next morning. She awoke, yawned, and stretched out luxuriously in bed. The sun was already fully awake, and came splashing in through the window and over her sheets. It was a particularly chilly morning. She snuggled deeply beneath the quilts for a moment, savoring the delicious feeling of just waking up and having no particular thing to do, nowhere really to go. A smile crept across her face. November 16th, she thought, forcing herself out of bed. My birthday. Wonder if anyone remembered. *does anybody else do that? I do!* She jumped into a loose pair of blue jeans and shrugged into a red knit sweater, hoping it would offer some sort of protection against the chill. With one sleepy foot in front of the other, she plodded down into the common room.

No one was there save for Paul, who had decided to stay and wait for her. Everyone else was already at breakfast. He, however, sat patiently in one of the armchairs facing the dormitories. He smiled when he saw her and stood up quickly, as though there had been pins and needles on the seat.

"Good morning, Abby. Happy birthday," he greeted her. She mumbled some sort of "thank you" in return as he kissed her cheek. Abby, like her mother, was not much of a morning person. It took either a lot of good food or some great conversation to wake her up in the morning, and this was not the first morning she was the last one up. Luckily breakfast on the weekend wasn't until 11. Otherwise she might have starved.

Paul, with an impish smile, straightened up suddenly and crooked his arm as an 18th century gentleman might have done. Abby giggled softly at this gesture, but snaked her arm around his anyway. He tended to be goofy like this quite often. She was very used to it by now, and sometimes, like now, even enjoyed playing along. The two cut a comical figure as they walked, stiff-backed and arm-in-arm, down the halls of Hogwarts to the Great Hall. Even Professor Sands had to chuckle to himself when he passed them. This was the sort of attention Abby didn't mind receiving. In fact, she rather enjoyed it.

There was nothing different about the autumn decorations littered all over the Great Hall, of course, but since it was her birthday Abby was looking at them through different eyes. Paul walked her to her usual seat beside him, and they sat down together for breakfast. Lilith, a fellow first year Abby had come to befriend, struck up a conversation with her almost immediately. That was one of the things she liked so much about her-she was very easy to talk to. Anytime they seemed to run out of things to talk about, she could bring up a new topic in the drop of a hat. It seemed they could talk for hours at a time and never tire of each other. Paul tried hard not to be jealous. After all, Abby was like his little sister. He had to tend her needs, and she desperately needed a best girl friend she could spend hours with giggling late into the night. Lilith, talkative and faithful, was perfect for that. Abby was wide-awake in minutes.

"Oh my god, can you be-lieve the homework Snape's given us for the weekend?" she exclaimed incredulously, handing her friend the plate of bacon. Abby accepted it, hardly paying attention to what she was dumping on her plate. She was more concerned with the conversation that had been stirred up. She nodded vigorously.

"Oh I know-it's impossible! We have to pick out three potions, clear out of the blue, and research their origin, history, exact formulas, ingredients, how they're made, where the ingredients come from…on five feet of parchment! His class is rubbish, anyway. No matter what I do, it never seems to be enough. *cough cough, Conlan, cough cough* Besides, I'm awful at Potions. It's worse than Arithmancy! If you make a little mistake in Professor Vector's class, you get marked off and that's that. But if you get it wrong in Potions…did you hear what Snape did to Cassy's toad the other day? Shrank it, just like that! Lucky she got it right. It could have killed the poor thing. Lily, I swear, sometimes I wonder if that man's brain gets enough oxygen."

Lily laughed out loud, covering her mouth with the back of her hand so as not to spit bits of waffle across the table. "I know what you mean. Potions isn't exactly my class, either. I'm much better at Charms. Did you see my feather the other day? It just sprang up like it was on springs or something! It was really wicked. And you, you're really good at Transfiguration. You're always getting us extra points for knowing some spell none of us have ever heard of."

This certainly helped to lift Abby's spirits. If she ever doubted her abilities, she just had to go to Transfiguration class. She enjoyed the class-the only one she could really say that about-and everyone knew she was always getting top marks in it. And it wasn't as though Professor Granger favored her because she was a family friend. She had, on more than one occasion, given points to other House members, even Slytherins, if they got the right answer (or so she heard). These extra compliments really made her feel better about herself. Maybe I can be a Potter, after all, she thought with an accomplished smile.

She opened her mouth to thank Lily, but before any words came the room was suddenly filled with a noisy fluttering of wings beating. Owl post. The first time she'd heard this it had scared the living daylights out of her. Now it was just routine. She looked up at the flurry of owls, scanning the ceiling for a fluff of white she could recognize as Hedwig. Packages dropped all around her, but she saw no sign of her beloved family pet.

Quite suddenly a bit of parchment dropped into her lap, carried by an owl that stayed put after its delivery. That was odd. It looked like a regular barn owl, the kind the school used, but those always dropped their mail and flew off for the owlery straight away. They never stuck around like this. Puzzled, she examined it more closely as she unrolled the parchment. It was a little younger than the school owls, she noticed, and there was a peculiar patch of white tucked just below its beak that distinguished it from the others. Her eyes returned to the attached letter.

"Abigail:

Hello! Glad to hear you're enjoying yourself. I know Professor Snape can be a pain, but try not to take it personally. Just do the best you can, and if there are any problems please try to tell Headmaster Dumbledore. He'll know best what to do.

A Slytherin? Well, I'm not sure. I never knew any "kind and generous" Slytherins myself. *watch he does in book five, making me look like an idiot* But if Professor Dumbledore thinks he's all right, then he might be. I suppose there's nothing wrong with being friends with him. Just watch your back; you never know what he could be hiding. And please don't let him get in the way of your schoolwork, or have you breaking any school rules. Have fun, but don't get carried away.

Yes, Professor Granger told me all about your accomplishments in her class. Very well done! Now I know it's awkward for you to call her that, since you've known her for so long as Mrs. Finnigan, but it's a Hogwarts thing. Something about the original founders and maiden names…I'm not exactly sure, but it's a sign of respect. Thank you for following it.

Do you like the owl? He's yours. Happy birthday! He hasn't got a name yet. We thought you might like to name him.

Let us know how things are going. We look forward to seeing you soon!

Love,

Mom and Dad"

She sighed and set the parchment down at the table. Lily reached over and snatched it up, but Abby hardly noticed. It was her father who had written it, no doubt about that. The letter had a definite, slightly arrogant tone to it. It sounded as though he were talking to a co-worker or an adult friend, not his own daughter. At the same time there was also a bit of a protective undertone that suggested he still greatly feared for her safety. Yes, that sounded just like him. Short, sweet, and to the point, with little emotion that was forced. She drew the owl toward her, trying to change her focus of attention.

Lily read the letter over quickly. "Ooh, neat, your own owl! What are you going to name him?" Abby had been wondering the same thing. She ran her fingertips thoughtfully along his glossy feathers, tickling him affectionately on the spill of white under his beak. He blinked slowly, stretched his wings out wide, and hooted loudly in delight. He was sweet, no doubt about that. But what to name him? She began to muse aloud.

"Hm…well, he's got this spot of white that kind of makes him different. Makes him special. It also reminds me of Hedwig. She was named after a famous witch, so maybe I'll name him after a famous wizard."

Lily chuckled at this suggestion. "So name him Harry. He's just about as famous as they come." Abby frowned, though she knew Lily was only saying this for the reaction. Even the owl whose name was in question seemed indignant about such an idea. He flapped his wings and shook his head disapprovingly. This made both of them giggle.

"No, see? Even he thinks that's a terrible idea. No, he's young, so I think I'll name him after a young wizard. Maybe one of the only two wizards to ever die at Hogwarts. Yeah, that sounds right…I'll call him Cedric. It's a good name, and Dad'll be pleased. Not that I'm doing it for him, of course," she added hastily, "I just like the name."

Cedric seemed satisfied. He gave a sharp hoot similar to that which he gave when he was pet, nipped at her finger affectionately, and flew off. Abby watched him go, smiling to herself. A pet owl. Now that was probably the best gift her parents could have given her. She had something to take care of, something that needed her more than she needed it. Maybe her father was rotten at putting his love for her into words, but what he did for her was incredible at times and his actions spoke louder than his words.

She gave another sigh, this time of satisfaction, and turned to return to her meal. Only that wasn't what she found. As she'd been busy with the letter from her parents, more packages had fallen in front of her. There were an assortment of them, all of which were labeled with the names of her friends and family. One from Paul, one from Lily, one from Hannah, and the Finnigans, and the Weasleys…but one in particular stood out. It was a letter, just a plain little white card with the words, "To Abby, from Elijah" written across it in black ink. Her heart jumped. Elijah had remembered her birthday? But she hadn't seen him in weeks, not since Professor Snape moved their seats in Potions so they sat at opposite ends of the rather large room. It seemed he had noticed the new camaraderie between the opposing House members, and his new life mission was to keep them apart. But at least he'd stopped the "Potter" comments.

Curious and bewildered at what he could have written, Abby opened the card and read its contents.

"Dear Abby,

Thought I'd forgotten? No such luck-happy birthday! Meet me by the lake this afternoon after tea. I want to give you your present in person. Don't worry-Snape won't bother us. I have special permission from Dumbledore. I told him we wanted to work on that Potions assignment, and we already have our research done but want to write our essays outdoors. The fresh air will keep our minds clear, I told him. And he wrote us up a pass. *do they give out passes at Hogwarts? Oh well, they do now!* So bring your books, just in case!

See you then,

Elijah"

Abby couldn't wait.