"We're going to be using a special quill of mine." Umbridge stood by her desk, offering it to Abigail. She hesitantly took it and looked around for ink, however from rumours she had been hearing, she felt there was no need.

"What do you want me to write, professor?" she enquired. Umbridge thought about it before sending her a sweet as honey smile.

"'I must not attack fellow students with intent to harm'." she answered, pacing around the office. Abigail looked down at the ghastly pink carpet, unable to understand how someone could have so much of one colour.

Looking back at the parchment, she rubbed her thumb and finger together. She didn't question Umbridge - she would tell her to stop when she was satisfied. Starting to write, her writing curved but each letter separated. She reached halfway through the third line when her left hand began to burn and she winced, looking at the skin. Forced to stop, she stared in shock as the words carved into her skin: messy, but legible. Grimacing, Abigail grit her teeth and eyed the finished sentence, skin red.

I must not attack fellow students with intent to harm.

Umbridge stood over her, peering at the words. Abigail glanced over her shoulder at Umbridge, pursing her lips and slowly put the quill down. The woman walked round the small table and down at Abigail.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes, ma'am," Abigail whispered, gently caressing her hand. Umbridge nodded, excusing her. Abigail quickly got up and left, glaring down at her hand as she stormed out of the classroom. It hurt more than she'd like to admit, but luckily no one was around to see her pained expression.

She sat herself down near the Grand Staircase, staring at her hand. Bright red, fresh… Biting her lip, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked up at the sound of footsteps.

"Look, there she is!" someone called, racing down the stairs. Abigail watched as Seamus, Alistair and Lavender joined her at the bottom.

"Let me see." Seamus sat beside her, Alistair crouching in front. Revealing her hand, she let him inspect it and he made a face, looking back at her, "Glad it ain't me."

"That makes me feel loads better, thank you," Abigail huffed, taking her hand back. She looked back down at it and Lavender leaned over her shoulder, hands on her knees.

"They say it goes away in a few days." She attempted to be helpful, and Abigail got to her feet. Seamus stood with her, gaining a look from Lavender when they were behind Abigail, and Alistair sped up.

"Well, at least Emile got his comeuppance too," he reassured, "Not going to Hogsmeade, remember?"

"Yeah but while you guys are away, I'll just be stuck here doing nothing!" she whined, standing in front of the Fat Lady. She hesitated, knowing that the password would have changed within the evening and looked at the others for help. Said painting was already asleep.

"'Ey! Wake up!" Seamus demanded loudly enough, "Oi! Firewhisky!"

"What- what?" the Fat Lady stammered as she awoke, looking down at the students. Fixing herself, she straightened up and glared, "You shouldn't be out at this time of night! That Umbridge might catch you!"

"She already did." Abigail said tiredly, brandishing her wounds. The Fat Lady merely opened the door with a glance at the words. Walking in, she saw that a few students were still awake, whispering quietly to each other.

"What time is it, anyway?" Abi asked, looking at her hand in the firelight.

"Nearly eight. Dunno what the Fat Lady's talkin' about." Seamus answered. Alistair excused himself, claiming he was tired, and left for the dormitories. Abigail bode him goodnight and then sat on her hip, legs curled to the side, by the fire.

"Does it hurt?" Seamus sat by her, gesturing to her hand. She nodded, and watched as he revealed a small packet of sweets, and she smiled happily. He offered it to her, letting her take out a few jelly beans before offering it to Lavender, who had taken her place on the floor too.

"Are you two doing anything during the Christmas holidays?" Lavender asked after a moment of silence. Abigail shook her head; she had hardly spoken to her parents since she arrived at Hogwarts. They were always busy with their work with the Ministry, she felt detached sometimes. These holidays were the things that brought the family together: Abigail would sit with her family in the house, play with their presents, have a laugh and then have a big meal. It wasn't as extravagant as one would expect from high paying Ministry workers, however the Hollyoaks were easily pleased people. They didn't need a holiday to celebrate. Looking back at Lavender, she put on a smile.

"You?" she finally asked, and Lavender nodded. She began to brag about going away abroad somewhere, not wanting to go through another temperamental Winter. Abigail began to zone out after that, looking down at her hand. The colour had calmed, but still alarmingly red.

Lavender excused herself, yawning all the while, and the pair said good night as she left for her dorm. Abigail rubbed her eyes, tiredness coming over her. However she didn't want to leave now, she knew she had something to do before sleeping. Getting to her feet, Abigail took a blank piece of paper near the Gryffindor notice board and quickly borrowed a quill from a late night homework doer.

"What're you up to?" Seamus joined her at a table, leaning on it rather than sitting, and Abi glanced up at him; she had forgotten he was still here.

"Just writing a letter to my dad," she answered, "Then going to bed."

"Well, as interesting as that is," he snickered, "I'm off t'bed. See you in the mornin'."

"Night!" she called after him, then looked back down at the paper. She pursed her lips in thought, quill end slowly touching the parchment. How would she start this letter off? How could she even begin to explain the tortures of the 'good natured woman with a sweet disposition' that had been his co-worker in the Ministry for years? He had spoken kindly of her on more than one occasion. He was a very stubborn man - he would probably refuse to believe the abuse Umbridge put children to. He continued to ignore any 'poppycock' about Voldemort, too. A good friend of Fudge's, Mr. Hollyoak wasn't the person to go to. Realising this, she gave the quill back and retreated to her dorm, giving up.

The morning was alive with buzz about some sort of secret that couldn't be shared 'in the presence of listening ears'. Abigail, having woken up late, was behind on the news and was determined to find out what exactly everyone was talking about. She walked down between tables, making her way for familiar faces: Alistair, Ron and Ginny.

"Alright?" Abigail smiled, but it fell quickly when she sat down with them, "Where's Harry and Hermione? Not like you to be separated."

"They're away, sorting out some… Business. You know." Ron answered, giving her a significant nod. Abigail stared, rattling her brain. Did she know? Was this part of the buzz she kept hearing about? Letting out a small sigh, Abigail picked up a piece of toast.

"No, I don't. No one's telling me anything," she mumbled, "What's going on?"

Ron glanced around carefully, watching as Professor Snape strode by, however his mind seemed to be on things not including his students. Ron frowned and looked at Abigail.

"I don't think I should tell you here. Someone might hear." he gestured to Snape. Abigail rubbed her face, giving up and nodding, looking at her toast as she lathered it with butter.

"That's not healthy." Alistair pointed out, and she sent him a glare. He pursed his lips and mumbled something incoherent. Biting into her toast, Abigail looked up when Harry and Hermione arrived, sitting and speaking quietly with Ron. Harry seemed upset about something.

"No, I don't want to…" he hissed to Hermione, "Look, it won't work, I don't-"

"Harry, you need more faith in people…" Hermione was whispering, however Abigail couldn't hear the rest. She glanced uncomfortably at Ginny and Alistair, who were also blocked from the conversation, and Ginny smiled a little. Finally Hermione looked at them.

"You will come to the meeting, won't you?" she spoke in a hushed tone. Abigail watched Ginny nod and Alistair look away uncomfortably.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." she hissed at Hermione, "Explain to me, and don't tell me it's too busy here."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, almost taken aback by Abigail's suddenly short fuse. She then nodded and began to explain a meeting happening in Hog's Head during the next Hogsmeade outing. The goal was simple: have Harry teach them real magic to protect themselves from the Dark Arts. Abigail smiled, eager to go, but something quickly dawned on her.

"I can't go," she whined, "I'm banned from Hogsmeade visits all year!"

"What? Why?" Hermione questioned. Abigail hesitated and then offered another smile - this one more cheeky.

"I got into a duel," she confessed, "With Emile. From Ravenclaw?"

"Nice." Ron smiled, however from Hermione's look he quickly hid it and straightened up. Abigail pursed her lips and Hermione sighed.

"Well… When, there's a parchment everyone needs to sign to show your allegiance. We'll bring it to you when we can so you can sign it," she thought quickly, nodding at her own plan.

"If it's successful," Harry added doubtfully. Abi chuckled and he shrugged, looking at her, "What? Really, I think whoever goes will just want to laugh at me for being the liar that saw Cedric's death."

"Harry," Abigail interrupted, "Have some trust in people, will you? I'd go - not because you're crazy - but because I believe Dumbledore. So, I believe you."

"See?" Hermione reassured, then turned, "Alistair, will you come?"

"No," he admitted, "I don't think it's necessary…"

"What? You're the insane one!" Ron said immediately, "Don't you understand the threat, you tosspot?"

"Hey!" Abigail glared, and Hermione smacked Ron on the arm.

"He'll come round." she said hotly, smirking at Alistair. Alistair avoided eye contact and instead got up and left, excusing himself quickly. Abigail finished her toast and brushed away the crumbs, looking at the trio.

"I'll talk to him, but I doubt I can get him to go." She tried a smile, "Good luck!"

"We'll need it." Harry called after her. She smirked, leaving the area and peeked down the halls, but Alistair was no where to be seen. Harry, however, was thinking over their conversation and furrowed his brow.

"Did she call me crazy?"

The time for visiting Hogsmeade - and the secret meeting - had come upon them quite suddenly.

Abigail sat in the Gryffindor common room by the window, watching as several students raced each other out of Hogwarts. She sighed and turned, watching Dean and Lavender meet at the bottom of the dormitory stairs.

"You sure you're not coming, Seamus?" Dean asked his friend, who shook his head.

"That Potter's full o'lies, Dean," he began confidently, "Look! Abi's not goin'. At least she's got some sense."

"Please," Abi huffed and walked over, fixing her jumper, "I would, I'm just banned from going to Hogsmeade."

Seamus frowned at her and glanced at Dean and Lavender as they said their goodbyes. He then looked at Abigail and let out a loud tut, walking past her to a desk to sit. She rolled her eyes and followed, leaning on the edge. She watched him continue to write something, doing his best to ignore her. Abigail could do this all day, but it seemed Seamus could not. He stopped momentarily to look up at her.

"What?"

"Why don't you believe Harry?" she asked innocently, and he attempted a laugh.

"'Cause me mam doesn't believe it. The Daily Prophet says he's a liar, too." he watched Abigail as she snickered and shrugged. He glared, closing one of his books, "What? What's so funny?"

"Those are pretty bad reasons," she answered plainly, "Surely you'd trust Dumbledore over the Daily Prophet?"

Abigail had learned from Seamus' argument with Harry not to insult his mother's beliefs. He ignored her and packed up his things, and Abigail pursed her lips. She felt like she was close to crossing a line. But, he toughed it out, and looked at her when he got up. Deciding to change the subject, she smiled.

"So, you not going to Hogsmeade at all then?" she asked, and he shook his head. She walked with him until the steps leading to the boy's dormitories, "Well, why don't we hang out for a bit?"

"Where's Alistair?" Seamus stopped at the third step to turn and look at her. She shrugged, shoving her hands into the pockets of her tan jeans. He smirked a bit and nodded, giving in, "Lemme just put this away and I'll be back down."

The pair travelled through Hogwarts happily, able to forget about the fun they'd be missing out by not going to Hogsmeade. They stopped in the Great Hall, seeing a few people here and there sitting with groups of friends. Abigail watched, spotting Emile sitting by himself. He was glaring at a book on his lap, back leaning on the table. Going unnoticed, Abigail's eyes trailed to his left hand, staring at the horrible green hue it had taken on. She looked down at her own hand, seeing the same marking. Had he been given the same punishment as Abigail after all? Before she could look away, Emile snapped his head up to glare at her. She looked down, trying not to watch him as he got to his feet and strode out of the Great Hall, fixing the shirt sleeve to cover his hand.

"Git," she muttered under her breath, which went unnoticed by Seamus. Attempting to brighten her own spirits, she looked around the room for happier faces, and caught sight of the Hufflepuff girl Mallory. Nudging Seamus, she led him to her.

"Hey, Mallory," Abigail stated friendlily, sitting beside her, "Why're you not at Hogsmeade?"

"I'm just waiting on a friend, then I'll be going." she answered quietly, looking from Abigail to Seamus. She pursed her lips, and the Gryffindor pair waited patiently for her to let out what she was thinking, "I thought you'd go to… You know, that meeting. You believe Harry, don't you?"

"Banned from Hogsmeade." Abigail said almost proudly, "Got into a duel."

Mallory was slightly speechless, probably confused as to why Abigail was claiming this in such a casual manner. Abigail had gone from feeling bad to proud about the duel. She held her own against Emile who - and Abigail was reluctant to admit this - was a powerful wizard for their age. The last time they duelled was in the Duelling Club, and Emile had easily given her a lovely pair of antlers that took hours to disappear.

"So, uh, you're goin' the see Potter too?" Seamus asked, and Mallory nodded, returning to her solitary exterior as soon as he spoke. Abigail sighed inwardly, looking down at her lap. Seamus said no more, and Mallory gulped, looked up and excused herself, claiming her friend was at the doors.

"Do you have to do that?" Abigail asked, and he gave her a look. She rolled her eyes and explained, "You know, questioning everyone about that meeting? It's getting ridiculous."

"Oh please, I just asked one person!" Seamus countered, which was very true, and shrugged, "Everyone's a nutter for Potter nowadays. I don't understand it."

"Please, he's the Boy-Who-Lived. And he's closer to Dumbledore than any of the other students, so why wouldn't people trust him?"

He leaned back onto the table, crossing his arms stubbornly, as if it would protect him from any of her arguments. Abigail smiled in amusement, shaking her head and put her elbow on the table, chin in hand.

"He's kind of cute, too."

"Oh don't start on that rubbish!" he exclaimed, getting to his feet, "If you're gonna go on about Potter's good looks, then do it on your own time."

"You're leaving?" Abigail exclaimed, watching him. He sent her a smile.

"I ain't leavin' because of Potter," he excused, "I've got some stuff to do when Dean gets back."

"Right!" Abigail called after him mockingly, "And you just happened to remember that when he's brought up!"

Seamus ignored her calls, and Abigail chuckled to herself. But now, left along in the Great Hall, she decided it wasn't best to hang about. She left the Great Hall and made her way to the grounds, watching Hogsmeade from afar. She wondered how the meeting was going, hoping it wasn't too empty. She felt awful for not being able to go. But, now she knew she had enough time to write a letter to at least her mother. While a strict woman with a sharp tongue, she was more understanding than her father, especially when it came to Umbridge. Her parents - on a professional basis - differed extremely.

Setting herself up in the library, she stared at the parchment. A sense of de ja vu rose in her mind, but she ignored it and began to write:

Dear mum,

Well, fifth year is off to a great start. By that, I mean it's going alright. And by that, I mean Professor Flitwick took me off the choir. I'm sorry it happened, but I knew it was a matter of time, like you said. There's a new professor, Umbridge, like dad said there'd be. She's worse than evil! Her punishments are out of control! Words got engraved into my hand! It's going away, but it's still sore to touch.

It was at that point she realised she had nothing else to write. Hesitating, Abigail glanced at her mostly healed hand and rung her fingers. What else was there to write about? She didn't want to mention Harry's plans in case someone was monitoring the letters (not that she'd be surprised with the way the Ministry were intervening). Deciding to quickly finish it off with enquiring about her little brother - too young to get into Hogwarts any time soon - and how dad was. Sealing it away in an envelope, Abigail left the library and made way to the Owlery.

Walking along the grass, she put her hands in her pockets, clinging to the letter. No one was around, and she looked up to watch owls glide away and into the tower. Cautiously, she made her way up the staircase, not wanting to slip. But, when she reached the top, she could hear talking. A deep voice with a slight accent.

"… How could you get banned from Hogsmeade? You idiot - what do you think we can do now? You'll get the Malfoy boy to help you, and I don't care if you don't like him. He has requested we do this, and we cannot fail him!"

Abigail heard no arguing back. Daring to peek, she glanced to see a Howler hovering in front of Emile, whose back was to the open door. The Howler consisted of old, slightly crumpled paper for the envelope and was nothing like a Red Howler. She tried to hear more.

"… Your mother and I are disappointed, Emile. We need you to-" Abigail winced as an owl hooted loudly, blazing its wings and watching the door. It was very large, and also very dark. Emile immediately crumpled the Howler and turned sharply.

"This is the second time I've found you listening in something that's none of your business, Abigail," Emile hissed, "Didn't the first time teach you a lesson?"

She ignored it, walking in and raising her arm. A light owl fluttered down, landing gracefully on her.

"I'm just here to send a letter." she excused, walking to a window. Emile kept his eyes on her, stuffing the letter into his pocket and stroking the large black owl's head, much to its satisfaction. As he made his way for the door, Abigail pursed her lips and turned.

"How's your hand?"

Emile ignored the question and left the tower. Abigail huffed and rolled her eyes, turning back to the window and putting the letter in her owl's mouth. She watched him fly off into the distance, leaning on the stone wall. What that Howler was saying to Emile circled her mind. Who was 'he'? Why was communication between Emile and his parents so important? She moved from the window to the door, looking over the edge of the stairs to see Emile stalking into a courtyard. Her eyes moved from him to a group of people in the distance, two with flaming red hair. They could be no other than the Weasleys! That meant they were back from the meeting! Grinning, she raced down the stairs and made way to catch up with them.