"Feeling any better?" Ginny asked the girl who still laid in the bed, under the covers.

"No better than the last time you asked," Abigail replied, pulling off the cover and sitting up so she could look at the Weasley. "They don't seem to be getting any better and something tells me they won't get any better until I can figure out how to, I guess, control whatever this is." She stood up off the bed carefully, keeping herself balanced as she did so by holding the wall.

Ever since the end of last term, she had been having prolonged migraines. They had tried everything, both magic and muggle variety and nothing worked. Recently she spent most of her days locked away in the room she shared with Ginny and Hermione, occasionally leaving to get food or drinks or when she had a few minutes in which the room wasn't spinning and her head wasn't pounding.

"Is my dad back yet?" Abigail asked as she changed into clean clothes.

"He got back a little while ago but they're having a meeting now," Ginny explained. "We can join the rest of them if you're feeling up for it."

Abigail nodded and made her way to the top of the stairs where the twins were dangling their ears.

"It won't work, you know," Abigail pointed out as they stood at the edge of the stairwell.

"And why's that?" Fred inquired.

"Your mother put up an Imperturbable Charm," she replied and everyone was looking at her now. "She clearly knows she won't be able to confiscate all of your belongings so she came up with a solution to you listening in on the meetings."

"Okay, all-knowing witch," George began, "Why don't you tell us what they're talking about?"

"I don't know what they're talking about," she pointed out, "If you don't recall, I don't have complete control over what I know and don't know. If I did, I wouldn't want to know anything at all."

"And give up the gift?"

"I don't see it as a gift," Abigail shook her head as she stared down at the door where the adults talked behind, "I don't want to know things that are supposed to happen knowing I can't do anything about it. Believe me, if you had this so-called 'gift' you'd want nothing to do with it either."

The group fell silent and Abigail spoke up again. "I'm going to go lay down," she decided and turned to Ginny, "Can you let me know when dinner is ready?" The girl nodded and Abigail walked back to her room.

Once she had left the group, Harry looked at where she had been standing in confusion, "Is she alright?"

"She's as okay as she can be," Hermione frowned. "She's had these awful headaches all summer and can only leave the room for a few minutes at a time. Sometimes longer if she's lucky."

"Oh," Harry replied with a frown. He looked at where she had disappeared and addressed the group, "I'll be right back."

He knocked on the door to the girl's room and Abigail looked at the door in confusion, "It's open."

Harry opened the door a second later and closed it behind him, "How are you feeling?"

She smiled at this, "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

He shrugged, "Maybe we're both entitled to ask."

"I heard you've had quite the summer break."

"One could say that, yes."

"Dementors are just strolling around in the muggle world," Abigail shook her head. "Things really have changed." She looked up to see that Harry was watching and her eyes widened, "What? Is there something on my face?"

"No," he replied. "Why didn't you tell me about the headaches?"

Abigail paled slightly. She knew he would find out at some point but she had hoped it would be later rather than sooner, "I didn't want to bother you with it. It's no big deal, really."

"I've been bothering you all summer with my problems," he pointed out. "I don't think there was a single letter I wrote that didn't contain something about last year."

"That was different," she argued, "With that, I could actually make an effort to help you feel better. You wouldn't be able to help me with this."

"You don't know that."

"I do, actually," she countered.

"You know, I hate your 'gift.'"

She laughed a little, "Me too."

"You get to know everything I'm feeling and I don't know anything that's going on inside your head."

"Well that has nothing to do with my 'gift,'" she pointed out, "You kind of wear your feelings out in the open. It's easy to read you."

"No it's not."

"It really is," she countered.

"Why can't I know what you're thinking, Abby?" he asked.

"You know what you need to know," she replied simply. "I don't know that you truly want to know everything that goes on inside my head. It can be a scary place." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into his warmth, resting her head on his shoulder, "I've missed you, Harry."

He placed a gentle kiss on her head, "I've missed you too."

The two stayed like this for a while, neither of them saying anything but merely appreciating each other's presence. There was a knock at the door and the two looked up and Hermione peaked her head in, "Dinner's ready."

She shut the door and the two stood up and walked out of the room together. They made their way downstairs and entered the buzzing kitchen. Abigail cringed slightly but took a seat next to Harry anyway. She rubbed her temple with one of her hands and she felt someone's hand slip into her other one. She looked down to see that it was Harry. He squeezed her hand gently and released it as Lupin and Sirius entered the room.

Lupin walked over to his daughter and placed a kiss on her head, "Feeling any better?"

"A little, yeah," Abigail nodded but it was clearly a lie. She didn't feel much better than the last time he asked but he seemed satisfied with the answer and joined Molly in the kitchen to help serve dinner. The question was growing repetitive but it was expected.

Food was served a moment later and the chattering was quiet as to avoid Abigail any unnecessary pain. She felt bad for making them keep the volume down and not enjoy dinner so she always finished her food quickly and went away.

"It seems your hearing in the Ministry is to be before the entire Wizengamot," Sirius explained as the conversations continued around the table.

"I don't understand," Harry frowned. "What has the Ministry of Magic got against me?"

"Show him," Lupin suggested, "He'll find out soon enough."

Sirius pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet and handed it to him, "He's been attacking Dumbledore as well." Harry scanned over the paper as Sirius went on, "Fudge is using all his power, including his influence at the Daily Prophet, to smear anyone who claims the Dark Lord has returned."

"Why?"

"He thinks Dumbledore's after his job."

"No one in their right mind could believe that..."

"Exactly the point. Fudge isn't in his right mind. It's been twisted and warped by fear," he went on, "Now, fear makes people do terrible things, Harry. The last time Voldemort gained power, he almost destroyed everything we hold most dear." Sirius placed the fork that he had been using to eat down and folded his hands in front of him, "Now he's returned, and I'm afraid the minister will do almost anything to avoid facing that terrifying truth."

"We think Voldemort wants to build up his army again," Lupin added, "Fourteen years ago, he had huge numbers at his command. And not just witches and wizards, but all manner of dark creatures. He's been recruiting heavily, and we've been attempting to do the same. But gathering followers isn't the only thing he's interested in."

"We believe Voldemort may be after something," Sirius explained.

"Sirius," Molly spoke warningly and it was now that Abigail realized everyone had been listening.

"Something he didn't have last time."

"You mean like a weapon?" Harry asked.

"No. That's enough," Molly decided, "He's just a boy. You say more and you might as well induct him into the Order."

"Good. I want to join," Harry spoke up, "If Voldemort's raising an army, then I want to fight."

Abigail wiped her hands off on her napkin and went into the kitchen to clean up her dishes, not caring to hear the remainder of the conversation. While she knew it was inevitable that Harry would fight against Voldemort, that didn't mean she wanted him to nor did she desire to listen to them argue over it.

"I'm heading to bed," Abigail announced to the group. "I'll see you all in the morning."

"Oh, Abigail," Mundungus spoke up and it was just now that she realized he was there, "A friend of mine gave me this, it should help with those headaches of yours."

"A friend?" she inquired, a hint of amusement in her tone.

He nodded, "They swear by it."

She took the bottle that he was holding out to her and smiled, "Um, thank you. I'll put it to good use."

Abigail turned to leave the room and walked past her father who spoke in a hushed tone, "You are not drinking that."

"Oh, darn," she pouted jokingly as she handed over the bottle when she knew Mundungus was distracted, "I was really looking forward to drinking whatever poison lied within and falling into a never ending sleep."

"Very funny," he commented as he tucked the bottle into his sweater. He placed a kiss on her head, "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, father."

"What did I say about you calling me 'father'?"

"That it makes you feel old," she answered, "I hate to break it to you father, but you are old."

He shook his head at his daughter but she simply smiled in response before walking out of the room. Her smile dropped as soon as she left and she made her way back to her room where she would hopefully encounter an uninterrupted, dreamless sleep.