The following week had gone by much slower than Abigail would have liked. Her hand was deeply scared and she was almost certain it would never heal completely. If she moved her hand or tensed it too much, the scab would re-open and start bleeding again. She found that Murtlap helped with the pain but there was only so much it could do.

Abigail scratched around the scar in order to avoid reopening it as she arrived in the corridor where she found McGonagall and Umbridge arguing and students watching on.

"Pardon me, Professor," Umbridge began, "but what exactly are you insinuating?"

"I am merely requesting that when it comes to my students...you conform to the prescribed disciplinary practices."

"So silly of me, but it sounds-" she took a step up, "-as if you're questioning my authority in my own classroom...Minerva."

"Not at all, Dolores, merely your medieval methods," McGonagall explained and she took a step up herself.

"I am sorry, dear. But to question my practices is to question the Ministry and by extension, the minister himself," she pointed out, "I am a tolerant woman but the one thing I will not stand for is disloyalty."

"Disloyalty," McGonagall repeated and she took a step down.

"Things at Hogwarts are far worse than I feared. Cornelius will want to take immediate action," she narrowed her eyes and Umbridge addressed the entirety of the room as she read a sheet of paper aloud, "Having already revolutionized the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Dolores Umbridge will, as high inquisitor, have powers to address the seriously falling standards at Hogwarts School."

Abigail crossed her arms over her chest as the women walked down the steps, narrowing her eyes as she passed by the students. McGonagall smoothed out her clothes and walked off to her classroom, leaving the students to whisper amongst themselves.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked from behind Abigail.

"Nothing good."

-

"We've got to be able to defend ourselves," Hermione exclaimed, "And if Umbridge refuses to teach us how, we need someone who will."

"And who's that?" Abigail inquired.

"Harry." At first, Abigail was surprised but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

"That's mad," Harry shook his head. "Who'd wanna be taught by me? I'm a nutter, remember?"

"Look on the bright side: you can't be any worse than old toad face," Ron pointed out.

"Thanks, Ron."

Ron patted Harry on the back, "I'm here for you, mate."

"Just think about it, okay?" Hermione requested. "There's an upcoming Hogsmeade weekend coming up. A group of us could meet up and...Just think about it."

Hermione stood up and dragged Ron off with her, leaving Harry and Abigail alone.

"How's your hand?" Harry spoke up after a while and Abigail raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think I would notice?" He held up his own hand, "Same thing happened to me, you know."

"I knew you would notice," Abigail countered. "I just didn't think that would be the first question you would ask." She held up her hand to show him the scarring, "Could be worse."

He grabbed her hand and held it gently in his own as he examined it, "Have you been using M-"

"Murtlap?" she finished for him, "Since the end of the first week. After awhile, I got used to the pain."

"Should we have told someone?"

"No," she shook her head, "I mean, McGonagall found out and look at what happened."

He intertwined his hand with hers and leaned back as he watched their hands. He rubbed around the scar gently with his thumb before he spoke again, "Great year, huh?"

"Indeed," Abigail smiled as she rested her head against the chair. "She's right you know."

"Umbridge?" he gaped.

"No, Hermione," she corrected, rolling her eyes, "You would make a great teacher. You know more than anyone else, your top of the class in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Technically we're both top of the class," he pointed out, "You're better and we both know it. Why don't you do it?"

Abigail snorted at this, "Yes, between my unpredictable migraines and mood swings, I would make a fantastic teacher."

"I thought those had stopped."

"Recently, yes," she nodded, "But with everything going on, it wouldn't surprise me if that changed."

"Remember what I said?"

"Yes, I know," she smiled, "I will tell you if anything changes." She sat up reluctantly, "I have to go. I still haven't replied to my dad's last letter and it'll take me awhile to make sure I don't say the wrong things."

Abigail stood up to leave but he was quick to pull her towards him. She laughed a little as he rested his forehead against hers, "What are you doing?"

"Memorizing your smile..." he mumbled in response.

"Afraid you'll forget what I look like?" Abigail inquired.

"I could never forget what you look like," he pointed out, "But seeing you happy seems to be a rare occurrence nowadays and I want to take it in as much as I can."

"Times up," Abigail whispered and he groaned playfully, "I'll see you at dinner, okay?" She stood up and he nodded, "Oh, and Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"You really would make a great teacher."

-

"Who's supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked as the four of them waited for people to show up.

"Just a couple of people," Hermione shrugged.

Harry turned to Abigail as familiar people began to enter the pub, "This was an awful idea."

"It was not," she countered, "Just try and relax, you'll be fine."

"I can't do this without you."

"And you won't have to," she pointed out as she grabbed his hand and held it up, "I am right here, okay? Maybe not right next to you but only a few feet away."

"I want you right next to me though," he countered, "I need your help."

"You'll be just fine," she replied, "You just have to have a little more faith in yourself."

"You're not understanding me," Harry shook his head with a laugh, "I want you to help me teach them."

"Oh, I don't-"

"You know these spells just as well as I do," he pointed out, "Most of them you do better."

"But I don't have any actual experience, you do."

"That doesn't mean you won't be of any help," he pointed out. "Please?"

Abigail looked around at the room that had filled with a fair amount of Hogwarts students and she sighed, "Alright, fine. But I'm only going to assist where needed, you're doing all the heavy lifting."

"I'll take it."

"Harry, they're ready for you," Hermione informed him.

"Go," Abigail told him, "I'm right behind you."

"What happened?"

"He got cold feet and I'm not entirely sure as to how, but I'm pretty sure he roped me into helping him."

"At least then he'll have someone who doesn't procrastinate and overthink everything there to tell him what to do."

"I thought that was your job?"

"I don't know the spells like you two do," she pointed out and she glanced at Harry, "I would hurry up if I were you, he looks like he's about to faint."

"What - oh," she realized and quickly ran over to him and looked around at the group of people.

Abigail gently elbowed Harry in the side to hopefully revive him as she smiled at everyone. "Hi," she greeted everyone, "So I'm sure you all know why we're here." Everyone was now looking up at her and she was beginning to understand why Harry was so worried, "We need a teacher who's had experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts."

"Why?" someone in the group asked.

"Because You-Know-Who's back, you tosspot," Ron snapped.

"So he says," they replied, pointing at Harry.

"So Dumbledore says," Hermione countered.

"So Dumbledore says because he says," they countered, "The point is, where's the proof? If Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed..."

"I'm not gonna talk about Cedric," Harry spoke up, "so if that's why you're here, clear out now."

Harry turned to leave but Abigail stopped him by placing her hand on his chest. He looked down at her and shook his head, "They're here because they think I'm some sort of freak."

"Is it true you can produce a Patronus Charm?" Luna spoke up from the group and Abigail shot Harry a pointed look.

"Yes," Hermione answered for him, "I've seen it."

"Blimey, Harry," Fred spoke, a look of being impressed clear on his face, "I didn't know you could do that."

"And he killed a basilisk, with the sword in Dumbledore's office," Ron added.

"Third year, he fought off about a hundred Dementors at once," Neville reminded them.

"And last year, he really did fight off You-Know-Who in the flesh," Abigail explained.

"Wait," Harry spoke up, "Look, it all sounds great when you say it like that...but the truth is, most of that was just luck." He looked around at everyone, "I didn't know what I was doing half the time. I nearly always had help."

"He's just being modest," Abigail pointed out.

"No, Abby, I'm not," he shook his head, "Facing this stuff in real life is not like school. In school, if you make a mistake, you can just try again tomorrow. But out there...when you're a second away from being murdered...or watching a friend die right before your eyes...You don't know what that's like."

"You're right, Harry," Hermione agreed, "We don't. That's why we need your help. Because if we're going to have any chance at beating...Voldemort...We need you to help us."

There were murmurs throughout the room and everyone looked up at Harry expectantly, "Right. First we need to find a place to practice where Umbridge won't find out."

"The Shrieking Shack," Ron suggested.

"It's too small."

"Forbidden Forest?" someone spoke up from the group.

Ron scoffed, "Not bloody likely."

The time in Hogsmeade was running short so they decided to disband the group after Hermione got everyone to sign the paper so she knew who to inform about meetings.

"What happens if Umbridge does find out?" Ginny inquired as they made their way back to school.

"Who cares?" he replied.

"I mean, it's sort of exciting, isn't it?" Hermione spoke up, "Breaking the rules?"

Ron looked at her in admiration, "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?"

"Anyway, at least we know one positive thing that came from today," Hermione pointed out.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Cho couldn't take her eyes off you, could she?"

Abigail couldn't help but frown at this. She knew they weren't really telling anyone about them primarily because they weren't entirely sure what they were. For all Abigail knew, they were just friends. She still didn't want to think about anyone else liking Harry in that way and she didn't like to think about him feeling the same way toward them.

She shook her head as Harry spoke again, "Over the next few days, we should each come up with a couple of possibilities of places we can practice."

"Wherever it is, there has to be no chance she can find us," Abigail added.

The group split up and Abigail was left alone with Harry.

"So, Cho, huh?" Abigail spoke up after a while.

"It's not like that," he shook his head, "It's-"

"Relax," she smiled, "I mean we never really said what we were. Maybe this is just the universe's way of telling us we're meant to be just friends."

He seemed taken aback by that, "Do you really mean that?"

She frowned slightly, "You tell me."