"Go to class, Abigail," Lupin told her. He was currently in a side room attached to the infirmary recovering from his last transformation away from prying eyes. "You'll be late if you don't leave."

"Snape is substituting for you," she pointed out. "I'd much rather be here."

"Professor Snape," he corrected and she rolled her eyes. "Go."

"Fine," she huffed before standing up and gathering her things. "But I'm not going to be happy about it."

"Mmhmm," he replied and she said a quick goodbye before making her way to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

She settled down in the seat next to Harry as Snape addressed the class, "Turn to page 394." Abigail opened her book and she paled when she realized what he was up to.

"Excuse me, sir," Harry spoke up, "Where's Professor Lupin?"

"That's not really your concern, is it, Potter?" Snape sneered before he spoke to the class. "Suffice it to say, your professor finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time." Snape's line of sight fell on Abigail who did everything in her power not to get angry. Harry looked over at her as well, confusion clear on his face as Snape spoke again. "Turn to page 394."

"'Werewolves'?" Ron read aloud.

"Sir, we just learned about red caps and hinkypunks," Hermione spoke up. "We're not meant to start this for weeks."

"Quiet," Snape demanded.

"When did she come in?" Ron gaped before turning around and facing Harry and Abigail, "Did you see her come in?"'

They both shook their heads when Snape spoke again, "Now, which one of you can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a werewolf?" He looked around, "No one?" He looked directly at Abigail, "Not even you, Abigail?"

Abigail looked up at this and did her best to ignore the looks she received from her classmates. She cleared her throat before she answered, "An Animagus is a wizard who decides on their own accord to turn into an animal. A werewolf has no choice." She cleared her throat before continuing, "Every full moon, when they transform, they no longer remember who they are. If they crossed paths with a friend, they would kill them."

"As an antidote to your ignorance, and on my desk by Monday morning, two rolls of parchment on the werewolf," he informed them and Abigail gripped her quill in her hand. "With emphasis on recognizing it."

"Sir," Harry spoke up, "It's Quidditch tomorrow."

"Then I suggest you take extra care, Mr. Potter," Snape suggested. "Loss of limb will not excuse you."

-

"Is your father okay?" Harry asked her once she exited the portrait, both of them ready for practice.

"Yes," she nodded, "He just gets these awful headaches sometimes. They come out of nowhere and they happen relatively often." She adjusted her grip on her broom as they walked through the castle. "Nothing helps him."

"Oh," Harry replied with a slight frown. "Tell him I hope he feels better soon, will you?"

"Yeah, of course," she agreed, sending the boy a tight smile.

"He's been helping me," Harry informed her as they made their way to the Quidditch field for practice. "With the dementor problem."

"The Patronus Charm?" she inquired as they joined the rest of the team. "How is it going?"

"Well, we're only using the boggart but I can produce a bright light," he answered. "Nothing more though."

"You'll get there," she nodded encouragingly before Oliver announced that practice had begun.

As soon as practice was over, Abigail and Harry made their way to the lake as they made a habit of doing after every practice. They both laid down on the dock by the water, staring up at the sky. Sometimes they talked, other times they didn't. All in all though, they enjoyed each other's company.

"My father was close with your father," Abigail explained as she looked over at him. "He's told me stories and what not, if you'd like to hear about him. Your mother too"

"Really?" he asked, turning to look at the girl, hope clear on his face, "Could you?"

"Of course," she nodded before looking up at the clouds, "What would you like to know?"

"Anything," he replied eagerly, "Everything."

Abigail laughed a little at this, "Alright then." She glanced over at the boy but looked away quickly, "I suppose I should start at the beginning then."

And she did. She told them all about how they first met and how James had a massive crush on Lily that she didn't reciprocate until much later. She told him about how James spent years trying to impress the girl but failed miserably, usually ending up embarrassing himself rather than looking cool like he had desired.

She also told him about his friends. About how both of their fathers were friends with two other boys who did pretty much everything together. And that they were nothing but trouble makers when they were together. Anytime that something went wrong, the teacher's knew it was them.

She explained to him that they got married almost right out of Hogwarts and joined a group of people to fight against Voldemort. Abigail had used his name and neither of them flinched.

And it wasn't something Harry would forget.

-

"Go, Harry!" the crowd cheered as he and the Hufflepuff seeker chased after the Golden Snitch the following evening. The score was close and Oliver was banking on Harry's skill as a Seeker. "Harry!"

Abigail squinted as she tried to see through the pouring rain. She just barely reached out in time to catch the Quaffle Angelina threw in her direction. The girl whirled around and scored, earning a loud cheering from the red section of the crowd.

She flew down to where the Weasley's were on their brooms. She looked around for a moment. "Where is he?" she inquired as she looked up to where Harry had disappeared to go after the Snitch.

Fred and George both shook their heads and Abigail grew worried as they replied, "No idea."

Abigail looked back up and she felt the color drain from her face when she saw something falling from the sky, "Is that...?"

"Bloody hell," George muttered.

The girl was quick to act and immediately rose up on her broom. "Harry!" she shouted as she leveled out a few feet below his rapidly approaching figure. She realized that he was unconscious as he came closer into view and she moved over slightly. Reaching out, she managed to catch his wrist just in time.

She felt her broom slipping out from under her and immediately gripped the stick with her left hand and held on tighter to Harry's wrist with her right. She tried to pull them both upland onto her broom but to no avail, she wasn't strong enough. Fred and George were approaching her and she could hear the gasps from the crowd as she felt his hand begin to slip from her own.

The twins were a moment too late as she tried to get a better grip. The rain made it difficult to hold on and he slipped from her hand, "No!" She gasped as she heard Dumbledore shout what she hoped was a spell that would help the boy. Abigail pulled herself back up onto her broom and immediately made her way to where Harry had landed.

She dismounted her broom and allowed it to fall to the floor before she knelt down next to him to make sure he was okay. Dumbledore, Pomfrey, and McGonagall were rushing over with Ron and Hermione hot on their tails. The rest of the teachers ushered the students away from the field.

"Harry?" Abigail tried, gently shaking his shoulder. The remainder of the players lowered themselves to the ground to figure out what exactly was going on. "Harry," she tried again, "Wake up." She looked up at Pomfrey who was examining him, "He's going to be okay, right?"

"He will be," she nodded. "Between your stalling and Dumbledore's spell...he avoided a great deal of injury." Pomfrey looked up at Dumbledore and McGonagall, "I need to get him to the infirmary."

"Hey!" Abigail shouted after Dumbledore who had started to walk away. He turned around in confusion. "You said they would stay off of school grounds and away from students," she reminded the Headmaster. "What were they doing near the Quidditch field in the first place?"

"Abigail..." Hermione began warily, reaching out to pull the girl back. Abigail brushed her hand away.

"It's your job to protect the students at the school, Headmaster," she informed him, pointing at him accusingly. "And from what I can tell you're doing one hell of a job at it."

"Abigail, come with me please," McGonagall requested with a pointed look. "To my office."

Abigail turned to look at Hermione for a moment, "Bring my broom back to our room for me, will you?" The girl nodded before Abigail followed the Head of her house to her office.

"Have a seat," McGonagall suggested and Abigail obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

"So, what is it?" she asked almost immediately. "Detention? Deduction of house points? Suspended from the Quidditch team?"

"You're not being punished," she informed the girl and she was taken aback. "Have a drink. Take a minute."

"But I-"

"Drink."

"Right," Abigail replied in bewilderment before picking up the glass of water that had appeared. She raised it to her mouth but looked up at the teacher curiously. "This isn't water."

"It's not water," she agreed. "But it will help." Abigail eyed it warily, "It won't kill you."

"I'm not entirely convinced that's true," she replied before taking a sip anyway. She could almost immediately feel any desire to yell leave her and she looked up. "Calming Draught?" McGonagall nodded and Abigail placed the cup down. "I may have gotten a little too angry. I'm sorry."

"Never apologize for being angry," McGonagall informed the girl. "You can apologize for acting on that anger poorly but don't apologize for having an emotion that everyone has." The teacher leaned back in her seat, "You were upset and within reason. Just not at Dumbledore."

"No, I'm pretty sure I was upset with Dumbledore," she disagreed.

"But you were also upset with yourself," she pointed out and Abigail remained silent. "It's not your fault. There was nothing you could have done without getting hurt yourself." Abigail looked down at her hands. "Go back to your house. Get some rest," she suggested, "You'll feel differently when you wake."

She doubted that.