Operation: Potential Breakup

Abigail shrugged as Hermione stared back at her in confusion. What was so hard to understand about what she said? It shouldn’t have been that hard; maybe Hermione was having trouble understanding how to get him how to do that, she thought. Letting out a sigh, Abigail crossed her arms and leaned against the bedpost – something she seemed to be doing a lot lately.

“Perplexed, much?” Abigail said with another sigh. “It makes perfect sense, you know. If she never lets him out of her sight, then you just have to wait for Harry to let her out of his.”

Hermione continued to gape at her in speechlessness. Rolling her eyes once more, Abigail pushed herself off the bedpost and marched to where Hermione was sitting. She took the brunette’s hand, pulling her off the bed.

“Follow me,” she told the dazed Gryffindor.

Releasing Hermione’s hand, Abigail creaked the dormitory door open and slipped through the opening. She tiptoed down the staircase as they quickly approached the Gryffindor Common Room. Abigail turned to Hermione with a frown; she could hear the shrill bellows of the Potter-Moore spat; however, by the sound of it all, the quarrel was more of a one-sided screaming match – just like all of their other fights.

And just like all of their other fights, Caitlyn was the reigning champion.

“Can you believe her?” Hermione hissed in a low whisper. “The nerve of this girl!”

Abigail shrugged as she continued to creep down the steps. “What do you expect, Hermione?” she whispered back, peering into the common room to spy on the scene. “It’s Caitlyn Moore. She’s been like this since we were little.”

Still furtively observing the squabble, Abigail inhaled deeply. The couple was much too distracted with their ongoing shouting to even notice anyone else, but Abigail knew better than to just waltz across the common room to get to where she needed to go. As Abigail learned from her previous encounters with Caitlyn and Harry, the two of them easily detected motion; even if she were to crawl across the room, the lovebirds would notice and she would fall prey to their screaming deathmatch.

Abigail folded her arms against her chest, feeling the hand-me-down wand she had received after her mother’s death. Smirking, she pulled it out of her robe pocket and pointed it at the glass flower vase at the edge of the table.

“Locomotor vase!” she said quietly as she flicked her wand at her target.

Slowly, the glass vase began to rise from the table, which was not too far from Harry and Caitlyn. However, just as the vase began to rise, Abigail speedily shoved her wand back into her pocket, causing the vase to smash to the floor, shattering it into tinier glass chips.

Just as Abigail had planned, Harry and Caitlyn turned their attention to the shattered vase that was only a few feet away from them. Immediately, Abigail grabbed hold of Hermione’s wrist and dashed to the staircase across from them. The two friends rushed up the stairs to the sixth years’ boy dormitory.

Knocking on the door in a rushed fashion, Abigail pushed the door open before she could hear a response from behind it. She let go of Hermione’s wrist when the two of them were within the walls of the dorm. Slamming the door, she turned to face the boys, all whom were staring open-mouthed at the girls.

“What?” Abigail smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re only here to speak with Weasley, so the rest of you can go back to whatever it is you were doing.”

Hermione and Abigail walked across the boys’ dorm as Ron continued to gawk at them in awe. He fumbled about his bed, trying to get on his feet to meet them halfway.

“What’re you doing here, Hermione?” he asked. “And who’s she?”

“Name’s Abigail,” the girl said, looking up at the much taller boy. “And since you’re one of Hermione’s favorite people at this school, you can call me Abs. We’re here to talk to you about the demon spawn of the underworld.”

Ron put his hand out for Abigail to shake. Once she accepted the handshake, his eyes moved around the room nervously. The lanky redhead let go of Abigail’s hand, leaned closer toward the two girls and whispered, “What did Caitlyn do to you?”

As Hermione’s eyes widened, Abigail snickered feverishly. This was the second Weasley to get her nickname for Caitlyn, but this one didn’t need any other context to know it was Caitlyn. The blonde smirked and crossed her arms once again.

“I see why you like him, Granger,” Abigail said, nodding toward Ron. “He’s clever.”

Hermione glared at her friend before turning back to Ron. “Is there some place more private we can talk?” she asked, looking at the all the boys that surrounded them. “I don’t want word to get out about this.”

Ron and Abigail exchanged a mischievous look with each other. Soon Ron mirrored Abigail’s signature smirk and crossed his arms. He nodded her way and waited for the blonde girl to respond.

Abigail nodded back, her smirk growing. She turned to Hermione and shook her head. “Hey!” she called as her voice rang through the boys’ dorm. “Show of hands. And be honest, it’s not like he’s around. I swear on my mother’s grave that these two won’t rat you out and neither will I, but… ummm, how many of you actually like Caitlyn Moore?”

The sixth year boys’ dormitory fell dead silent after Abigail’s question. They all looked at each other in shock before glancing back at the blonde in the center of their dormitory. While some of them grinned at the sight at Abigail, others stared at her in confusion. Abigail sighed; she knew there was only one other question that crossed their minds.

“And for those of you that care to know,” she droned in boredom, “I’m Abigail Crenshaw. We’ve only gone to school together for like six years now. Just give us an honest answer. We promise: whatever’s stated here stays with between us.”

Again, Abigail’s voice was followed by a dumbfounded muteness. It was one thing for some of the boys from her own house to not know her, she figured that much, but for them not to know Caitlyn Moore… that was something else.

“Skin’s like porcelain. Perfect hair,” Abigail thought about the things that would make Caitlyn stand out to all the boys. “Wears the cutest clothes. Accessorizes flawlessly. She’s the heart-stopping, jaw-dropping double take…?”

Still nothing from the boys as Abigail continued to describe the girl she despised. She whirled around to face to a crestfallen Ron and a scowling Hermione. Then she scratched the back of her neck, feeling the awkwardness of what she had just done. Then again, maybe she wasn’t doing it right…

Abigail stood in the middle of the dorm, thinking of other ways to possibly describe Caitlyn Moore to the rest of the boys. If commenting on Caitlyn this way did nothing for her, she knew she had to modify her depiction of her rivals to make it paint the perfect picture for the boys.
“Good at everything she does. Teacher’s pet… Snape included,” Abigail started. “She’s drop-dead gorgeous and you know she knows it. Her parents are loaded. Got a following – an entourage of copy queens, if you will. Sometimes she can really get to a person-.”

The boys let out a roar of laughter as Abigail continued to speak. Hermione, Ron and Abigail looked at each other with uncertainty.

“What’s so funny?” Hermione questioned baffled. “None of you responded before when Abs asked you all the question… why is it so hilarious now?”

“Granger,” Seamus managed to say through his laughter, “we all know who she is. Who wouldn’t? She practically runs the school!”

Neville nodded. “And now that she’s dating Harry, everyone knows her.”

“She’s Gryffindor – if not Hogwarts – royalty,” Dean remarked. “If Weasley is our King, she’s the Empress!”

As clamorous chatter filled the room, the trio shared looks of worry once more. If the boys loved and adored Caitlyn the same way the rest of the school did, the three of them were in for a world of hurt; however, it wouldn’t be just a vicious admonishment from Harry, it would be never-ending bullying from the rest of the house and possibly the school.

“She’s alluring as hell!” Seamus confessed. “… but she’s mad as a hatter she is.”

At that statement, the jabbering noise of the room changed moods. Abigail could hear the tone go from loving and adoring to malicious and rancorous. She glanced at Neville, who gaped back at her embarrassed. The Gryffindor girl shrugged at him before shooting him a small smile of gratitude.

“As you can see,” Dean said, “none of us like her. Why’d you ask?”

Hermione and Ron huddled closer together as Abigail spoke for the three of them. “We just wanted to see who else was on the same page as we were,” she said, “but Hermione wanted reassurance that she and Ron weren’t the only ones who didn’t like Harry’s girlfriend.”

Seamus and Dean laughed while Neville scratched the back of his head. The three of them looked over to Hermione and Ron with faint smiles.

“We can’t exactly speak for the rest of the school,” Neville replied softly.

Dean nodded. “But we understand why you feel the way you do.”

Hermione let out a notably tense laugh. “Oh thank goodness!” she cried, putting her hands to the sides of her face. “I would die if Harry knew how we felt before we told him ourselves.”

“Still need a more private place to talk?” Ron wondered with a smile. “Or is this okay enough for you, Hermione?”

Dismissing herself from the conversation with the boys, Hermione nodded and agreed to the latter. She smiled, making her way to Ron’s bed. Abigail followed suit and plopped herself on his bed as if it was her own. She sat with her back against the other boys as she leaned against the bedpost. As Hermione did the same, Ron rushed to sit near his pillow. The three of them looked at each other, unaware of where to start.

“It’s safe to say that we all agree that Moore is the demon spawn,” Ron chortled. “But was it necessary to come into my dorm to tell me that? You could’ve told me in at dinnertime or something.”

Hermione looked at Abigail with the same looked of bewilderment Ron had. “She dragged me in her. She broke the glass vase in the common room just to get us here!”

Upon remembering what she had done, Abigail beamed at Hermione and Ron; she was proud of what she did, there was no use in denying that. She then fiddled with her long, red-coated nails. “Hermione told me that Caitlyn never lets Harry out of her sight,” Abigail stated simply. “So I told her the perfect solution: get Harry to let Caitlyn out of his sight.”

Almost in the same way Hermione had only a few minutes before, Ron stared at Abigail in wonder and awe.

“I see why you’re friends with her, Hermione!” Ron commented. “She’s bloody brilliant!”

“What?” Hermione was flabbergasted at Ron’s statement.

Abigail shook her head in response to Hermione’s outburst. She guessed that Hermione was surprised that Ron understood what was being said while Hermione was lost and confused at the idea. Rolling her eyes as she usually did, Abigail put her hand on Hermione shoulder.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Granger,” teased Abigail. “Weasley and I are just on the same playing field when it comes to scheming.”

Ron chuckled, “I don’t understand what you didn’t understand about what she said. It was pretty straightforward. Plus, knowing Harry, it’ll be pretty easy.”

“Care to explain?” Hermione scoffed in a huff. “Because I fail to see the logic of this plan.”

“Simple,” Ron said with a small shrug. “Caitlyn never lets Harry out of her sight, but Harry usually lets Caitlyn out of his.”

“You’re not making any sense!” complained Hermione.

“For being dubbed the brightest witch our age,” Abigail groaned, “you’re pretty thick! Okay, look… Harry can’t be alone with you guys because Caitlyn always seems to be around. But what about when she’s with her friends? I’m sure she leaves Harry alone then, right?”

“Yeah,” Ron replied, suddenly realizing the problem with Abigail’s plan. “… but when that happens, we can never find Harry…”

“Damn,” Abigail sighed. Her perfect plan came as soon as it went. “Okay… new plan.”

“No!” Hermione finally exclaimed. “That’s the only plan we’ve got; we’re sticking to it! It can’t be that hard to locate Harry when he’s alone… we just have to go to extreme measures to find him in that state.”

“Hermione, are you insane?” Abigail wondered. “No way in hell are we going to be able to do that unless we stalk the living daylights out of that boy! What happens if he catches us in the act? Or worse, what if she does?”

Ron locked eyes with Hermione for only a moment before he caught on to what she was seemingly suggesting. “He’d know…” he muttered in a hushed voice.

“Doesn’t seem to use it much nowadays,” Hermione stated with a smirk. “And we don’t have to be the one to do it.”

Abigail’s puzzled gaze moved with the to and fro of their conversation. She arched on eyebrow before staring off into space in more confusion. Crossing her legs as she rested her chin against her fist, Abigail tried to think of what Hermione and Ron were suggesting.

“Okay… I’m officially lost,” Abigail complained. “What the bloody hell are you two talking about?”

Hermione leaned closer to Abigail and whispered in her ear, “Do you remember in our third year when I caught you in the library with Malfoy… even though you told me that you were going to spend the afternoon napping?”

Abigail nodded. “You always seemed to catch me when I was alone with him,” grumbled the still confused Gryffindor. “I’m surprised you didn’t figure out that it was him I asked to the ball before even with all that-.”

“You always told me the two of you had just finished fighting!” Hermione rebuked. “That’s besides the point… how do you think I always knew where you were?”

“… magic?” Abigail assumed that the answer wasn’t as dumb as it sounded, considering they all went to Hogwarts.

Hermione grinned widely. “We used a map.”