Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co does not belong to me. All characters you do not recognise are my own invention.

Author's Note: Ok, sorry for being a little late with the update but my writing will suffer as I'm working everyday now; I'm too tired when I come back to stay up and write so again I'm sorry. Not many reviews on the last chappie! Did you not like it?

I hope you'll enjoy chapter 6. Wow, already 6 and I don't know how long this fic will last, probably about 20 chapters. Anyway it's Abby's POV and I have done my best not to make her a Mary Sue. She is a Slytherin after all! Oh and Harry's character is more thoroughly developed in this chapter.

Enjoy!

..~**~..

Chapter 6

Abigail woke up the next day with a painful headache. She hadn't got much sleep. Unfortunately her room shared only a thin wall with Pansy Parkinson's room and last night the Slytherin girl had obviously had a good time. Crawling out of bed Abigail briefly wondered who Pansy got lucky with this time and opened the window to let her owl in. She received yet another letter from her father asking her to befriend Draco Malfoy, which infuriated her.

Why does he keep asking me this? Something was definitely up, her fater had never interfered with her social life before! The letter had also briefly mentioned the Ministry, which, for the fourth time, had refused to let her mother leave the Muggle hospital. This only made matters worse. In a moment of rage, Abigail stormed around the room to get her clothes, determined to apparate to Malfoy Manor and give her father a piece of her mind.

Realising that disapparating from Hogwarts would not be so easy, Abigail, still furious, ripped a piece of parchment out from her drawer and wrote frantically on it.

Dear Father,

Are you out of your mind? The Malfoys! Everybody knows that they are Death Eaters! Father, we are forbidden to take sides on this war, remember? You should know that by now! What would Mother say? As for Draco Malfoy, of course I will not befriend that sadistic bastard, nor will I let you stay with the Malfoys forever. I am two inches away from apparating to the Malfoy Manor right now to bring you home, even if I have to drag you-

She continued her race on paper for another few minutes before finally ripping it to shreds. She couldn't send that to her Father, she owed him more respect than that and besides, she was angry with him for something he wasn't responsible for. Also, knowing Lucius Malfoy by reputation, he would probably read the letter before it even reached her father.

Sighing deeply, Abigail pulled out a new piece of parchment. At least she had to warn him from the Imperio curse, if it wasn't already too late.

Dear Father,

Be careful of the Malfoys. Remember what Mother taught you about protecting yourself from curses. I have met Draco. He seems -

She paused.

-determined to know more about me, or more likely about our family. Please write to me soon. I hope your stay with the Malfoys will not last too long. I miss you.

Abigail.

Satisfied with the letter, she immediately sent her owl to deliver it. The stubborn snowy owl had no intention of making yet another long flight but Abigail knew how to convince her with a few mice.

Next, she headed for the showers.

..~**~..

Although her roommates had all left for breakfast, Abigail heard distinctive noises as she stepped out of the steamy room, a towel wrapped around her. She reached her bed to find none other than Miss Pansy Parkinson rummaging through her desk.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Abigail yelled.

The other girl turned around quickly, fiddling anxiously with her cloak. Abigail was angry with Pansy for the invasion, but at the same time felt incredibly embarrassed to be seen with only a towel wrapped around her body.

"Hello to you too, Abigail," Pansy coolly answered, trying her best to look innocent. "I simply came to see how you were doing. I haven't seen you at breakfast for ages. On a diet, are you?"

Abigail's face turned crimson. "That's none of your business!" she spat out, feeling her body shake in anger. "And now if you don't mind, I'd like some privacy to get dressed! So, in other words, get out!"

"Don't be such a prude, Miss I-think-I'm-so-cool-by-changing-my-name! There are only girls here," Pansy retorted haughtily.

"Well, judging by the noises you were making last night, I'd say you're wrong! Who was it this time, Pansy? Who did you contaminate now?" she asked sarcastically.

Abigail had hit a nerve. Although Pansy was the worst of sluts, she hated being called one, even implicitly. "Oh please! We all know you're not the immaculate virgin yourself, Abby," she retorted, venom in her voice. She watched with delight as colour suddenly drained from Abigail's face, but she quickly recovered.

"Get out of my room!" she hissed, her dangerous voice scaring the other girl, who instantly backed away from her.

However, due to a problematic lack of brains, Pansy carried on.

"I learnt it from Blaise last night in bed, you know," she said maliciously, smirking, whilst making her way to the door. Abigail's dark eyes glared with even more fury as she listened to Pansy's words.

"If only you'd put in more effort, Abby, he wouldn't have come crawling back to me. Shame, isn't it?"

She then ran for her life as Abigail quickly lunged for her wand to hex her, but wasn't quick enough and the spell crashed against the door.

Pansy was already out of view.

"Aaaargh!" Abigail cried out in frustration. She couldn't believe it was him that she had heard last night with Parkinslut! Her day couldn't get any worse now. Quickly getting dressed in her robes, she reached for a cigarette pack hidden in her drawer and stepped out of the dungeons, taking the first available way out.

She skirted the edge of the castle and made her way to the lake, where she sat down and lit up. Lying on her back she thought of the morning's events. Why was Pansy in her room? No way could it be out of concern! She remained lost in her thoughts for a while until she suddenly felt the sun being blocked from her face.

"Miss Serpent, smoking is strictly forbidden at Hogwarts, even for you!"

..~**~..

Abigail reached McGonagall's office at eight o'clock on the dot. The professor had indeed caught her smoking and given her detention, but Abigail supposed it was a fair deal, as McGonagall had caught her red-handed. She should have hid behind the greenhouses where all the other smokers usually went.

Having changed out of her uniform and into jeans and a sweater, she noticed that her jeans were too big for her and her sweater seemed to have grown a couple of sizes, but she thought nothing more of it.

She knocked on the Transfiguration office door and walked in. She had dreaded detention all day, as McGonagall had always expressed a strong resentment towards her. She was a Slytherin after all, whilst McGonagall was head of Gryffindor and Abigail annoyed her even more by her precise knowledge of most Transfigurations spells.

Stepping into the office, she watched as McGonagall stood up from her desk chair and looked down at her student with concealed contempt, which Abigail sensed all the same.

"I see you are on time. I wish it were the case with my classes. Follow me then."

Abigail followed silently, as she was lead to the trophy room. When McGonagall stopped, a small smile crept on her thin lips. "Wait here please. I shall not be long."

Entering the room cautiously, Abigail looked around. The walls were hidden by glass cases, which encased dozens - no hundreds of different trophies. She had only been in the room once before, whilst touring Hogwarts in her first year. At least now she had a vague idea of what her detention would be... Suddenly, McGonagall's distinctive footsteps were heard, along with others. She turned around to see the professor standing at the door with another student.

Harry Potter.

"Mr Potter will be joining you for the evening, Miss Serpent, as Professor Snape is unable to hold his detention. I expect this room to be sparkling clean when I return in three hours time, not a speck of dust to be seen. I have not seen Hogwarts' trophies shining for years, such a pity. With your combined efforts, I am sure the room should return to its legendary radiance."

McGonagall watched both students sternly, but Harry looked indifferently back at the walls. He probably wouldn't have cared less if McGonagall had suddenly ordered them to dance naked in front of her.

"Very well then. You shall find everything you need in the closet. Good luck," the professor finished before she left the room.

"Well, this is going to be fun," Abigail mumbled as she opened the closet and took out the proper equipment.

She tied her long hair back in a messy bun, allowing random strands to fall back in her face. She then turned to hand cloths and cleaning products to Harry, who simply stared back at her, still expressionless. She looked up at him and watched him closely for the first time. The famous Harry Potter was standing in front of her and of course, he intrigued her, as he did everyone else. Although he was tall, his body seemed frail. He did not possess his friend's, Ronald Weasley, bulkiness, or Malfoy's stature. His body definitely showed signs of distress and fatigue but still, Harry was quite good-looking. He had black raven hair, like Abigail, which was messy but looked good on him. His round boyish features had given way to a square jaw and clean cut features making his face much more agreeable.

The only problem was Harry's eyes. His once shiny, emerald eyes had become empty over the past year and they often held fear within them.

I guess confronting Voldemort and Death Eaters does that to you.

Deciding to make an effort to wipe the pitiful look off his face, she spoke to him again, as she opened the glass windows and started scrubbing the first trophy.

"You know, I've also got a lot of time to kill here and since we're all alone, there's no harm in talking."

Harry grabbed the next trophy, covering it with some blue magical metal polisher that Abigail had never encountered before.

"I guess so."

"My name's Abigail," she greeted him with a friendly smile, "I'm a sixth year."

"I'm Harry," he answered slowly, still cleaning away.

"Harry Potter. Nice to meet you. My mother used to tell me stories about you."

"Really? My parents are dead," he replied bluntly.

His voice was dull, as if used to hearing her kind of small talk everyday, and his attitude didn't surprise her. Everyone from the wizarding world would have loved a chance to talk with the famous Harry Potter. It was best to change the subject quickly or the conversation wouldn't last much longer.

Taking out her wand from her back pocket, Abigail grinned at him and spoke up, breaking Harry away from his reverie.

"What do you say if we used a little magic? After all, Professor McGonagall didn't defend us from doing so."

Debating with himself a few seconds, Harry happily dropped his cloth. "Okay."

Pointing her wand to the cloths and products, she ordered "Nettum!" and they suddenly came to life, floating in the air and scrubbing away at the trophies.

"That's better," she said sighing heavily and sitting down against the wall.

Harry followed, sitting down beside her. "Why are you here?" he asked, suddenly curious.

"Sorry?"

"Why are you in detention?" he repeated.

Abigail crossed her legs as she answered. "I was caught smoking. And you'd think the wizarding world wouldn't care, huh? Guess not, McGonagall went bonkers at me, even though I kept telling her that I know a counter curse for it."

Her voice suddenly stopped as she noticed Harry's eyes grow wide. "You know a counter curse for smoking? You mean, like smoking without damaging your health or something?"

"It's just a spell a found in a book at home," she answered a little too quickly. She didn't want to bring Harry's attention on the particular book. "I could teach it to you, if you wanted?"

"No, it's okay, I probably wouldn't remember it anyway."

He paused. "So, are you Muggle-born?"

She snorted as she heard the question. A Muggle-born? If he only knew...

"No, not at all."

Harry's face fell into a scowl.

"That doesn't exactly mean I'm a Death Eater either!" she growled, but then she noticed him shudder at the word and softened. He had suffered too long from that twisted Voldemort.

"Besides, aren't your Weasley friends Purebloods too?"

His eyes lightened up at the mention of their names. "You know them?"

"Ginny, sort of," she shrugged, watching the trophies being polished.

Harry bewildered by her answer fell silent but immediately looked back up at her. "Hey, wait a minute, you're the one Ginny was talking about this morning. Apparently you saved Hermione from the ferret!"

Abigail had never heard such a venomous hiss as the one Harry used to describe Malfoy. She had heard about them being enemies and all, but she had always believed most rumours had been exaggerated. His insult, on the other hand, made her laugh, as she playfully tucked back a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Is that what the Gryffindors call him? I think 'white boy' is a good nickname for him! It only makes me laugh though, because the others are too scared of him now."

It didn't seem to make Harry laugh either, which made her uneasy. She watched him as he stared back down at the floor intently. There was obviously something on his mind, but he seemed to be debating whether to voice it or not. Finally, as she was about to ask him what the matter was, he opened up.

"So, how do you manage to stand up to Malfoy, these days? Haven't you heard? He's a Death Eater now."

His angry green eyes had given way to fear and anxiety. Sitting next to him even made Abigail nervous. She could not believe how much the Boy Who Lived had changed over the years.

Huddling her knees to her chest, she rested her arms on them before she spoke. "Well, I'm afraid of Voldemort, of course. I mean, aren't we all?"

She noticed Harry's surprised look as she spoke out the Dark Lord's name, but ignored it and ploughed on.

"But giving in to your fear is a different matter. That's how he obtains his power, because everyone's too afriad to stand up to him. Fighting back and being courageous is the only way to overcome fear and defeat him."

She paused, looking back down to the ground. "At least, that's the theory."

Harry reflected on what the sixth-year girl had said and frowned. She knew he didn't believe her, especially after everything that had happened.

"That's what I thought too until I lost too many friends. Last year, it was - it was -"

But he couldn't finish his sentence. The event was too recent for him and she knew it. She did not like talking about the student massacre either.

"I know," she breathed, searching his eyes, "you don't have to explain yourself to me. It's easy to understand how you feel."

Her dark brown eyes stared deeply into emerald as she answered him.

"Even when you smile, we can still see sorrow in your eyes," she spoke calmly, holding his enticing emerald gaze until she finally noticed the glimpse of a smile on Harry's face.

"Same goes for you, Abigail," he stated.

She looked away quickly as if he had seen right through her. This is bad! He shouldn't be noticing these things. And why was she opening up to him anyway? Why did she feel like she wanted to help him?

"We all have secrets locked away, Harry."

"So you and I are obviously alike. Except that you were brought up as a Pureblood."

Funny you should say that, Abigail thought, suddenly remembering what Malfoy had previously told her, but somehow it bothered her that Harry had brought up her Pureblood status again. He had even scowled again as he said it. She leaned closer to him, facing him to show her disapproval.

"You seem kind of stuck on that point. You know, it's not because I'm a Pureblood, as you say, that I hate Muggles and Muggle-borns. I don't exactly hate Muggles, I even prefer some of their inventions; I am wearing their clothes in case you hadn't noticed," she stated pointing to her jeans.

Harry crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "But..." he looked at her expectantly.

Abigail looked at him uneasily. She didn't like admitting her weaknesses, even if it was to Harry Potter. "But, well - well I guess they scare me," she answered carefully, looking down at her hands.

Harry lifted an eyebrow at her. He didn't seem to believe her. "Muggles scare you, what even more than Voldemort?"

His sarcasm was starting to get to her. She fought the urge to smirk at him like any other Slytherin would do. She didn't like people making fun of her; she didn't have the patience for it either.

"You don't need incantations to shoot a bullet or drop a bomb, Harry," she said dangerously. "We wizards just don't have the same weapons! That's why I fear Muggles, and that's why Voldemort is such a threat to the wizarding world and must be stopped. If he declares war on Muggles, he will expose us to their world and no doubt our kind will be exterminated."

Big green eyes stared blankly back at her. "I'd never seen things that way."

The expression on his face made her laugh lightly. "Welcome to Abby's point of view, my friend. But don't worry, I'm not a Seer, this is my opinion is all. Unfortunately, it will never be considered, as the wizarding community doesn't give Muggles enough credit..."

..~**~..

Their conversation lasted nearly three hours before they decided to finish the detention themselves. Picking up the cloths, they scrubbed the remaining trophies as McGonagall walked back in, looking immensely satisfied, though she would not admit it to them. Telling them that they should quickly head back to their dorms, she left the room and Abigail turned to face Harry, barely containing her laughter.

He joined in, showing off his white teeth. "I can't believe she thought we cleaned every single trophy ourselves!"

"I know! If she only knew, she'd probably have us start all over again," she joined in, tossing the cloth away. She tried to recall the last time she had actually laughed or had such an interesting conversation with anyone, but she couldn't.

Harry finally braced himself and smiled at her. "It was nice meeting you, Abby. It's weird that I never met you before. What house do you belong to again?"

She paused for a moment, before looking at her watch. "Oh, look at the time," she replied quickly, "it's nearly midnight and I have to get up early tomorrow."

She hated lying like this, but she had spent such a pleasant evening with him that she couldn't bring herself to admit she was a Slytherin.

Not just yet.

It was tough being a Slytherin. After all, none of the other students or teachers trusted them and the reputation only got worse since Voldemort returned.

"I'll see you around, Harry," she continued, "and try staying out of trouble next time."

"Yeah, try not to get caught next time!"

He paused suddenly looking awkward and insecure. Once again, a look of debate fell upon his face. "Would you - would you, by any chance, like to watch the Gryffindor's Quidditch practice, Friday night? I'm only asking because you said you were interested in the game and -"

"Sure, why not?" she interrupted, smiling at his unease. She pulled loose strands once again out of her face and this time noticed the way Harry was looking at her.

"I'll be there. Goodnight," and with a brief wave at the door, Abigail walked out of the trophy room and along the dark corridor.

"Bye," Harry called after her.

She hurried down to the dungeons, joining some fellow sixth-year Slytherins in the common room, chatting: something she hadn't done in a long time. A big smile appeared on her face that night as her mind kept running over her more than pleasant detention time with Harry Potter.

..~**~..

Whew! Well, I thought I'd upload now even though its late at night for me! So any guesses as to who Pansy was sleeping with last night? And nope, its not Draco, that sexy devil! And remember, reviews are everything to me! So please review! Please, please, please...

Take care now and I'll be seeing you in a week hopefully! Lots more Draco/Hermione action to come next time - well they do spend 4 hours in detention! Yay!

Hathor xxx