It was towards the start of Christmas break, and I was walking down this deserted corridor when I saw Malfoy a little ways ahead, stepping out of an unused classroom. He had the look on his face that made me want to pat him on the back. He didn't see me, and went away in the other direction. I kept walking down the corridor after him, and glanced at the shape of a piano in the room as I passed by the doorway that Malfoy had just stepped through. At least, the pile of upset woodwork on the floor looked like it might have been a piano once.

I continued down the corridor, and noticed that it was getting dark. Much too dark. With a dread, I realised that I had walked right past curfew. It was an impolite thing to do, so I took a few steps back to apologise. But it was already gone to the past, and I couldn't do more than just try to find my way back to Gryffindor tower in the dark.

A moment later, I was stopped in my tracks by the sounds of stones scraping against each other. Apparently I had ended up in the dungeon while trying to apologise to curfew.

Malfoy emerged from the passageway before it rearranged itself back into a stretch of wall.

"I hope there's a good reason you called me out of bed, Potter."

Oh, yes, I came here to tell him about the former Death Eater who's out to get him.

But just as I opened my mouth to speak, Abigail's voice ringed out throughout the hallways, resounding in my head, "HARRY! YOU DID NOT!"

She appeared behind me and shoved me aside. I hit the floor, hard, and couldn't move quick enough to stop her from leading Malfoy by the left arm out of the dungeon.

Someone held out their hand to me. I took it and let it help myself up. I muttered my thanks and tried to go after Malfoy and Abigail. But I felt a hand on my shoulder, stopping me gently, and I turned to look into a pair of eyes that were the fathomless pits into eternity and back.

"Rest assured you have nothing to worry about," came his aged voice.

I shook his hand off my shoulder and tried to go after Malfoy again. I heard him call my name, in a different voice.

"Harry, wake up."

I opened my eyes, and they were met with an unfamiliar pair of brown eyes.

Samara Rutledge, no, Sam had both hands on my shoulders. She removed them to adjust my glasses before plopping down next to me on the couch.

I tried to remember why I was alone with the sixth-year in Gryffindor common room. Briefly, I even thought that I was still dreaming. Eventually I remembered telling Ron to go on ahead to bed before deciding to take a short nap in the middle of my reading. But then there were several other students there at the time.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Oh? I guess since I had been watching you sleep the whole time, it's naturally expected of me to know the answer to that."

My brain was slow to process this. I tried to scoot away without her realising. She noticed and snickered.

"I just got here, Harry. Thought that perhaps you'd prefer to continue sleeping upstairs."

I sigh escaped my lips. She burst out laughing. "I'm sorry! Your face! Priceless!" she breathed out between fits of laughter.

"Be quiet. You're waking everyone up." I told her, starting to feel annoyed.

She didn't quiet down as quickly as I had hoped, but her laughter died down soon enough.

Her voice still had a hint of laughter, "sorry," a sigh, "I thought you'd be used to people staring at you, you know, being you."

"Not while I'm asleep, I think. What are you doing here? What time is it?"

I noticed she had a wristwatch, but she didn't check it before answering me. I assumed that it hadn't been long since she last did.

"Two in the morning. I couldn't go back to sleep."

I considered going back to sleep and started gathering up my things, which lay scattered around me on the couch and the floor.

"Say, Harry? Are you guys, I mean, friends with Smith?"

I regarded her briefly. Her face was a blank.

"I guess so."

"I mean, does she tell you stuff? Like why she left the first time, and why she's leaving here again?"

I realised I wasn't sure about the latter, and wondered whether I had the right idea about the former.

"Not everything, I guess."

She turned from me then, humming slightly.

A thought occurred to me. "Why do you call her 'Smith'? I thought you were best friends or something."

"It's short for Silversmith."

"No, I mean, why not 'Abigail'? That's friendlier, right?"

Sam shrugged. "We like 'Smith'."

"We?" I blinked, slightly confused.

"If you remember, I mean, we as in Weller, Rigel, myself, and Smith."

I nodded mutely.

I felt the beginnings of a drowse, and proceeded to pick up the last of my things and excused myself from Sam.

As I lay in bed later, falling back into sleep, I faintly remembered to ask her if Malfoy could be one of 'we', and whether the one called Rigel was a boy or a girl.

I woke up late the next morning, panicking a little before I remembered that it was Sunday. A sudden movement to my left then took me by surprise; Ron had just threw his covers aside and jumped out of bed.

"It's Sunday," I told him.

Ron seemed confused as he swung his head from side to side. "Oh. Sunday," he sighed and stretched, yawning.

"You were up really late last night. I heard you come in."

"I'm sorry if I woke you. And I fell asleep downstairs for a bit, actually."

I couldn't remember my dream from last night, but I did remember the one I had before that girl Sam woke me. I was again plagued with the need to tell Malfoy about Abigail.

So after I got ready, I retrieved the Marauder's Map from my trunk. Ron was watching me with his face slightly pinched in concern.

"What are you doing?" he asked, moving to look at the map over my shoulder.

"I don't think Abigail is going to tell Malfoy anything. She's going to harvest his Dark Mark and disappear from his life, completely."

Ron sighed. "Look, Harry."

I felt irritation creeping up on me. I breathed in deeper to quell it before turning to look at Ron. "What?"

He seemed to search my face for something before he spoke again. "Before, when we thought Malfoy's life was in danger, I guess it made sense to stick our noses in. But we know better now, and the truth is that this thing with Malfoy and Abigail has nothing to do with us."

"I know that, but don't you also feel that it's all wrong? How would you like it if I obliviated you and then gone on my merry way?"

"No, I get that, it's just that… I mean, it's just Malfoy. Argh, I mean, how do I say this?"

I watched him struggle with himself for a bit before he continued. "I get the feeling that you're just using Abigail as an excuse to talk to Malfoy, or something…"

That was only partially true, because in the end it did matter to me what Abigail's task might do to Malfoy's sanity. So I didn't justify it with an answer, and continued to search for Malfoy on the Map. Ron eventually gave up and left the room.

Malfoy spent most of today in his room. At least, that's where he was whenever I pulled the Map out to check on him. Currently, however, he was finally heading towards the Great Hall for dinner.

There were only a few people left in the Great Hall now. Dumbledore and McGonagall were the only teachers still sitting at the high table. I ate my pudding as slowly as possible to drag out my stay. Malfoy was sitting across from Zabini at the Slytherin table, facing the windows. When it looked like he was about to leave, I jumped out of my seat and went to wait for him outside.

"Malfoy," I called to his back.

He turned then, his expression becoming unsure. "Potter?"

Uncertainty started building me up inside me, too. I couldn't understand why I was so nervous.

"There's something you need to know."

Malfoy furrowed his eyebrows and shifted a little. My heart started hammering inside my chest. What spell, exactly, did Abigail use on me that day to keep my mouth shut? I guessed I was about to find out.

I felt the words on the tip of my tongue, but I never got them out, because in that instant, I heard Abigail's voice.

It all happened faster than I could follow.

"Harry. You did not." She hadn't screamed them this time, but the words reached me as surely as they did in my dream last night.

I turned around to find her walking briskly in our direction. She had her wand out. "Stupefy!"

I couldn't respond quickly enough, and I was thrown a few feet to the side.

Her voice resounded in the hall. "Expelliarmus!"

Malfoy's wand was in the air. She caught it in her left hand, and I saw her Mark, silver against the skin of her forearm. She did it all while still making her way towards Malfoy. Once she was close enough, she grabbed his left arm.

She was going to do it, right then and there. I struggled to get back up, but found that my whole body was shaking. In the corner of my eye, I thought I could see Dumbledore and McGonagall hurrying over from the Great Hall.

Abigail pulled the sleeve up, her Mark sliding over his. Malfoy sunk to his knees.

"I asked you not to do anything stupid!" her voice was raw with emotion. I realised then that she was openly crying.

Still unsteady, I forced myself up and moved as fast as my legs could go.

Malfoy was trying to get her arm off of his with his other hand. Their fingers whitened. "Smith!"

I finally reached them, and I wound both arms around her middle, and pulled her back.

I felt her slack under my grip, heard her wand drop to the floor, and watched her arm slide down Malfoy's.

The skin on his forearm was pale and, now, flawless. He collapsed to the floor and Abigail was paralysed in my arms; they were both unconscious.

I had failed.

Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall appeared, and Time seemed to assume its normal speed again.

McGonagall was bent over Malfoy. She checked his arm for his pulse. "Oh, dear." She dropped his arm and moved to touch his forehead.

I was still sitting on the floor, holding an unconscious Abigail. Her breathing was so slow, I almost believed that she had died.

A Slytherin prefect suddenly appeared next to me. They looked Abigail over and reached a hand to pull her left sleeve back down, hiding the last and darkest of Dark Marks from view again. I looked at them and found eyes that were reminiscent of the night sky resting on mine. Rigel's gaze seemed to be warning me to keep quiet.

I realised then that the rest of the Great Hall had poured into the entrance hall, and I caught whispers of my name and Malfoy's from the surrounding students.

McGonagall told everyone to leave. Her stern voice was faint in my ears.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Dumbledore's voice reached me. I only nodded mutely. Someone suggested taking the two motionless students up to the hospital wing.

The Slytherin prefect, Rigel, pulled Abigail out of my embrace. I heard her mumble a protest, and instinctively looked to Malfoy. He was waking up too. I sighed my relief.

Zabini and I held Malfoy between us as we made our way to the hospital wing.

We settled Malfoy onto a bed where he fell into unconsciousness again. I watched Rigel set a very still Abigail down on the bed next to Malfoy's. Was she smaller than before?

I stood observing Madam Pomfrey as she fussed over the two and soon found my voice again. "Will they be okay?"

A hand came up to squeeze my shoulder gently. I turned and found faded-blue eyes. "Yes, Harry, Poppy here will get them up and about again in no time. Now run along and get some rest. Rest assured you have nothing to worry about."

[Author's Notes]

Because I had just finished my second test.

Oh god, you could almost see Boredom seeping out from in between the lines. But hey, the story is moving forward! As bored as I am with it, I'll be damned if I don't finish this. Walalala!