I had never been more grateful for revision week. The week off of class right before the first NEWT gave students ample time for the last of our preparations, and for those of us who hadn't been working quite as hard as they should – though I doubt there were many – this week was their last chance. However, I was grateful for a different reason; it was because I would have time to visit Malfoy and Abigail at the hospital wing. Well, I would be visiting both of them under the pretences of visiting just one of them, that is. And that meant visiting just Abigail, because it made more sense.

But as my friends and I made our way up to the hospital wing, I couldn't help feeling, well, a little miffed. What had Abigail meant when she said "I asked you not to do anything stupid"? What, it was somehow my fault? I didn't see how it could be my fault.

We reached the hospital wing and I was somewhat taken aback; I hadn't expected to see other people there, much less that many people. Granted, there were only seven Slytherins in total, but at first it had looked like a small gathering of Slytherins collected around the two beds. I tried to ignore Nott and Blaise at Malfoy's side and approached the Slytherin quartet next to them.

"Hello," Sam greeted us, and I realised that I had mistaken her for another random Slytherin, again. Her two companions at Abigail's bed were Rigel and Weller.

Hermione was, as always, the first to speak. "She hasn't woken up? At all?" she asked the group in general, but reached over and gave Abigail a gentle shake without waiting for an answer.

Weller only shook her head slightly, Sam less so, but Rigel took Hermione's hand from the sleeping form of Abigail. "We'd like to have her around for a little more, if you don't mind."

Ron's face was already the same colour as his hair, but his tone remained calm, "she wasn't trying to kill your little girlfriend."

Rigel smirked. "So possessive."

Hermione took a hold of Ron's arm while Weller grabbed Rigel's shoulder. "Stand down, Rigel, she's taken."

Rigel's smirk abruptly turned to a confused frown, dark eyebrows furrowed at the pale girl. "What are you…? I wasn't-"

"Anyway, we were actually just leaving," Weller announced, and she nodded at us before turning to leave.

Rigel looked displeased. "I wasn't flirting with her," the words were hissed at Sam, who was giggling uncontrollably. They made Hermione blush.

Sam quieted down just enough to convey her next words to us, "No, Rigel really wasn't. That's just how Rigel is. Weller's right though; we were just leaving," Sam then went on her way.

"If you don't terribly mind, Potter, a word," Rigel's address then took me by surprise. I followed the dark-haired Slytherin outside.

"You saw her mark." It was a statement. I wondered if it was how Slytherins traditionally start a conversation.

"I did."

"What did she tell you about it?"

"Enough, I think," saying this out loud plagued me with uncertainty.

Rigel nodded. "She intends to leave immediately after, well… I assume she means to do so as soon as she wakes up. So, don't try to wake her just yet."

I nodded back, fully understanding. "You didn't have to take me aside, you know. Ron and Hermione know."

Rigel frowned. "I didn't know we were telling bloody everyone," the words were said to no one in particular.

Rigel then left with a small bow before I could come to a firm decision to ask whether they were a boy or a girl.

As I made my way back to Abigail's bedside, Malfoy's visitors went on their way out. I was greeted back with a question from Hermione.

"Rigel is a girl, right?" she asked, eyes searching for the ambiguous character behind me.

"He was definitely flirting with you," Ron fumed.

Then Abigail's voice took us by surprise, "keep it down, you …typical Gryffindors."

"Abigail!" Hermione moved in to hug the bedridden girl, but the latter held up a hand to stop her.

"Don't, please, and keep it down." She pressed the heel of her palm to her temple.

I leaned over to touch her other hand. "Sorry, we will. Go back to sleep, now."

"Where's my wand?"

I didn't know what I expected. "You know, I thought Rigel was being overdramatic when he, erm, she said you're leaving the moment you wake up."

"Rigel is not a- Whatever. My wand." She searched the bedside table, then under her covers. She then tried to summon it.

"Hey, take it easy-" Ron began, but didn't finish. Footsteps were heading towards us, and we turned to find the last person we expected to meet again: the old man from the piano room, Mr. Silversmith.

"My dear! Oh, I just heard!" He was swift to reach her side, and I automatically stepped aside.

"Keep it down!" she yelled in desperation, startling the old man. My friends and I then proceeded to just stand there awkwardly.

"Sorry," she mumbled, checking herself. "My wand?" she asked her patron. He actually shrugged.

Madam Pomfrey then appeared. "What's going on here? Please, don't disturb the patient."

"No, it's fine, ma'am, I'm sorry." Abigail seemed to have regained more of her usual demeanour by this time.

"Oh, you're awake. Here, let me just make a quick check-" the matron then proceeded to draw the curtains around her bed and shoo us out of the way.

I was, to say the least, unsure about staying there to wait with this Mr. Silversmith around, but then the old man took the opportunity to check on the occupant of the bed next to his ward's, Draco Malfoy.

I remembered how he had expressed his disapproval of Abigail's fondness for him, and decided to remain in the hospital wing for a bit more. Ron and Hermione seemed to be on the same train of thought as I was.

Ever since his arrival he has taken no notice of us. We watched him warily as he visually inspected Malfoy, taking particular interest in his bandaged left arm. He slowly lifted a hand to touch the bandaged arm, and my fingers tightened around the wood of my wand without my even realising. I was on the verge of throwing curses at the man before he abruptly turned away to return to Abigail's side.

We received another surprise when we see Malfoy Sr. arriving at the hospital at that moment. He was accompanied by Professor Slughorn. Mr. Silversmith turned to greet them, pretending he hadn't just been scrutinising Malfoy's son. It was quite infuriating.

They began talking and I tried to listen in.

"We came as soon as we heard. What happened?" It was Lucius Malfoy's voice.

"We're not sure, we haven't been able to ask; he hasn't woken up yet." Professor Slughorn answered him.

"But it's been a whole day. Oh, Mr. Silversmith, why are you here, too?"

"My ward, I don't know what happened either. She just woke up."

Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind Abigail's curtains. Everyone spontaneously stopped what they were doing and turned to her. Her first words were for the oldest man in the room, "she will see you now."

I looked to her, hesitant, and she gave me a small shake of her head. "Not yet, Potter. Just wait a bit more." She then went to check on Malfoy. He was still unconscious.

In silent agreement, my friends and I moved to the other side of Abigail's bed to eavesdrop on their conversation from behind the curtain.

"Drop the ridiculous charade, sir. It doesn't become you."

"You've put me in a good mood after all. I've never been more proud of you."

"My wand, then."

"It's like you don't know me at all, Smith-"

"I don't."

"-you know I wouldn't want to keep you from your mission; why would I take your wand?"

"It just seems like something you would do. You never make things easy."

"No, but it seems like something Dumbledore would do."

A pause and then, "Dumbledore has my wand? Why would he-"

"Just for safekeeping. Anyway, the entire Malfoy clan is here; remember that Lucius doesn't know you anymore either, so, stay down. And lastly, congratulations, you took less time than I had expected."

"It was Harry's fault. I was going to graduate before I do anything."

"You were going to wait that long? Well, thank this Harry for me. But what has he got to do with any of this?"

I didn't want to admit it, but I was starting to cheer the old man on.

"Just him being a meddling Gryffindor. In fact, he's probably listening in on us right now."

My friends and I were taken aback for the nth time that day. We stopped our intrusion immediately and went to stand back a few steps.

Mr. Silversmith reappeared a few moments later. He bade Mr. Malfoy and Professor Slughorn goodbye and was gone from the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey went back to Abigail before removing the curtains around her bed again. My friends and I took it as a sign that she would now see us.

"So, how are you feeling, Abigail?"

"Just fine, Hermione, thank you. Yourselves?"

I decided to have the pleasantries out of the way and spoke my mind. "Why did you have to do it?" I said it in a harsh whisper, so as not to be heard by anyone else than the four of us.

"Are we going to keep going back and forth on this?" she asked back, almost rolling her eyes.

It was Ron who answered her, "Fine. But what's this we hear about you leaving again? At least wait until Malfoy wakes up or something." We were all whispering now.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that; Dumbledore's sure to keep me here a bit more than necessary," she answered.

"Longer than necessary? Dumbledore? I don't think I follow," Hermione admitted.

"You were listening in just now, weren't you? He's got my wand, I can't leave without it. My father has probably arranged it with him so that I stayed behind to see if I had actually succeeded."

"You mean, Dumbledore knows? About your mission?" And even as I asked the question, I realised I already knew the answer.

"Of course he does. He knows everything. How else were we able to 'infiltrate' Hogwart's defences? It's the safest place in this realm, headed by the greatest wizard of all time. We needed his help if anything was going to work out."

Yes, of course. The piano room being accessible for their Apparition, Abigail getting transferred, him assuring my friends and me not to worry like nothing was wrong; all these unconventional things wouldn't happen without him being 'in on it'.

"But, you father? I thought he died," Ron asked, and I remembered that she had said something about that too.

"It's just short for 'great-grandfather'. That's the old man just now."

There were just so many questions. I had to ask them all. I began bombarding her with questions.

"And how is any of this my fault?"

"Like you heard, I was going to wait until after I finish my magical education before I attend to my task. But you just had to go and tell him, and one week before he has to take NEWTs at that. Are you mad?"

"So what if he knew?"

"He would put up a fight, and I would have to do it the hard way."

"And it's not like I would be able to tell him, isn't it? You put some sort of spell on us that day at the Lake."

"No I didn't. If I did, I wouldn't have felt compelled to do it right then and there."

"So how come I still couldn't tell him?"

"Your conscience, I should think. Remember how none of this was any of your business?"

I was so angry at this point, but Abigail was right. And she was wrong, too.

"So now Malfoy is going to wake up, and he will have confusing empty blocks of memory to explain why he's in the hospital wing."

"He would remember everything except me. You have nothing to worry about, Harry."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

It was, surprisingly, Lucius Malfoy who appeared suddenly to break the building tension.

"Good afternoon. So you are Silversmith's youngest?"

I watched, not understanding, as Abigail looked at him, eyes widened slightly and lips quivering with words that won't come out. Then I remembered that Mr. Silversmith had told her to be cautious of Lucius Malfoy, too, and I wondered what kind of acquaintance they had had before she took his Mark and his memories of her along with it. At least, that was what I worked out to have happened.

"Y-yes," she answered after a short delay.

"I knew your father. I was sorry to hear about his passing. He was a good man, a talented wizard, and a great artist."

"Yes. I mean, thank you, sir."

"We've met before, haven't we?"

Abigail seemed to light up at this. "Yes?"

"What is your name?"

She deflated a little. "Abigail Silversmith, sir."

"No, it was Holly, I think," he said it more to himself than anyone else.

"That's my sister, sir. She helps out at the shop sometimes."

"Ah, it was your sister," he said, assured. "Anyway, get well soon."

"Thank you, sir."

Abigail looked down at her hands. I watched Lucius Malfoy pause on his way back to his son's bedside, and he absently held his left arm as he turned around again. For one short moment I thought he was going to come back and say he remembered something, but his eyes found mine and he went back to his son instead. I wanted to smack my own forehead for deterring him.

I heard Abigail murmured to herself, "for one glorious moment…"

Hermione patted her arm. "You knew each other?"

"You'd think I'd be glad he doesn't remember all those times I told him I wanted to marry him when I grew up."

Hermione laughed awkwardly while Ron and I shared a disgusted look. "What?"

"I was just a stupid little girl. Then I did grow up, and just end up embarrassing myself whenever we met because I can't forget it. My penultimate Harvest…"

"But you're not glad," Hermione stated, "because if he remembers…"

We shared a silent understanding.

Abigail cleared her throat. "Next question?"

After what had just happened, I had come to terms that what's done is done, and understood that the whole thing was more a predicament to Abigail than it was to anyone else. I had no right to be asking her to justify herself to me.

"I'm sorry, Abigail. For everything." And I meant it.

Abigail smiled that sad smile, yet again. "It might be too soon to say that, Harry. I have enough reasons to Obliviate all of you. Now where's Dumbledore? I need my wand back."

I couldn't decide if she was joking or not; she sounded so serious. And thinking on it further did make it sound less like a joke.

"What?" Ron had blurted out.

Abigail responded with a chuckle. "I'm not thinking straight yet. I'm starting to feel tired, now."

We took it as our cue to end the visit. Hermione got a book out and placed it on the bedside table, and Abigail thanked us for visiting. As we headed out, I noticed Lucius Malfoy looking over at Abigail again. I wondered if he was going to talk to her again, perhaps having remembered a pale, dark-haired Harvester.

Author's Notes

Hello, people. I'm facing finals, so I had to procrastinate and type this up instead of revising. As with previous chapters, ignore all mistakes, because this whole story consists of raw and un-beta-ed chapters. Storyline exists, so far.