Operation: Potential Breakup

Once Abigail reached the grand doors of the Great Hall, she sucked in a quick breath, shutting her eyes and shaking her head slowly. She had gotten Harry to remember her, but at what cost? He didn’t see her as Abigail Crenshaw, Hermione Granger’s best friend; no, the Boy Who Lived saw her as Caitlyn’s childhood companion… as Abby.

In addition to the humiliation, Abigail had nothing to present to Hermione and Ron. Returning to her friends without the map was like showing up to class without completing the assignment – a feeling Abigail hated and one she knew all too well, despite being best friends with the brightest witch their year. She sighed to herself as she pushed through the double doors of the dining hall; the little mission had not been a complete failure, right? After all, she managed to get some information out of Harry Potter without even trying.

Abigail dragged herself along the aisle of the tables, lazily scoping the room for her bushy-haired best friend and the red-haired boy who accompanied her. Shortly after locating them, Abigail’s eyes drifted from the Gryffindor table to the Slytherin one. She immediately locked eyes with her date to the masquerade. Draco was sitting with his usual gang: Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Raising an eyebrow at her, the young Malfoy shot Abigail a concerned look to which she frowned and shook her head in reply. The two broke eye contact as Abigail plopped herself down beside Hermione.

“There she is,” Ron said before shoveling a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth, “the girl who’s going to help us help Harry.”

Hermione giggled as she turned to look at Abigail. Dropping her utensils, she threw her arms around her best friend. “I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to this, Abs!” squealed Hermione.

With her hands trapped at her sides, Abigail did not return Hermione’s tight embrace. She bit her lip nervously as she wriggled Hermione off her. Piling mountains of food on her plate, Abigail let out another sigh.

“Save your breath, guys,” she muttered, taking a spoonful of casserole and shoving it grumpily into her mouth. “I couldn’t find the map.”

Hermione glanced at Ron in confusion. Then she turned back to Abigail, who continued to miserably guzzle down all the food on her plate. “Abs, what are you talking about? It should be in Harry’s trunk; he hasn’t touched it since last year!”

Abigail shrugged, poking at a lone pea on her plate. “Tell that to the map,” she mumbled. “I tore through the contents of his trunk and I found nothing. I might’ve poked through his other belongings, but he popped into the dorm unexpectedly…”

Ron and Hermione went wide eyes. Abigail could tell the same thought had probably crossed their minds at the mention of Harry. Rolling her eyes, Abigail used her fork to stab the steak on her plate.

“Don’t worry,” added Abigail. “Wonder Boy literally walked in right after I cleaned up the crime scene. He thinks I went in there because I left my wand on Ron’s bed from earlier.”

A wave of relief swept over Hermione and Ron’s faces.

“I’m really sorry though, guys,” Abigail said, letting her fork hit her half-empty plate. “I feel like I’ve failed you…”

Hermione let out a sigh, putting her hand on Abigail’s back. “No, we just have to figure out how to do this without the map,” she replied, shooting Ron a confused look. “I just don’t understand where the map could be…”

“Maybe he moved its location randomly one day,” Ron suggested. “It’s not like one of us would know if he did, right?”

Abigail scoffed, “Moore would. That snake spends every waking hour with him.”

At the mention of Caitlyn, Abigail noted that Hermione and Ron winced a little. With a short exhale, she muttered another apology about the map; regardless of what Hermione had said, she still felt like she had disappointed them somehow.

“Wait,” Hermione stared up and down the Gryffindor dining table, “even though that’s true, why was Harry up in his dorm when Caitlyn’s over there with Lavender and Parvati?”

“Oh,” Ron explained nonchalantly, “Harry and Caitlyn’s row from earlier was never actually resolved. Harry came into the dorms like an hour after you two left and he was miserable! But before I could get a word outta him, he decided to take a walk around the castle or something.”

Abigail’s thoughts drifted back to the short time she shared with Harry Potter. It was nerve-racking, eye opening and blissful… up until the last few moments. But what bothered Abigail the most – other than the Abby thing – was what Harry had said about Caitlyn. Was Moore really giving him such a hard time that he was starting to beat himself up about it? Abigail wanted to help, but what help could she offer to him without stirring up drama with Caitlyn?

“What do you want, Malfoy?” sneered Ron, tearing Abigail away from her own thoughts.

Abigail turned to see the Slytherin boy standing behind her and Hermione. Draco crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes at Ron’s greeting – if anyone could even call it that. “Stow it, Weasley,” Draco hissed in replied. “I’m not here for petty arguments tonight; I’m here for Crenshaw.”

Ron scoffed as the blood rushed to Abigail’s cheeks. She hadn’t even completely explained to Hermione the relationship she shared with Draco! She had just met Ron and he seemed to be liking her from the looks of it; Abigail knew that adding Draco Malfoy to the mix was really pushing it.

“Why would Abigail to be involved with the likes-?”

Before Ron could finish, Abigail shot him a weak smile as she gently nudged Hermione. She quietly excused herself from the scene, bidding her goodbyes to her two friends. Though she received a confused look from Ron and a look of slight disapproval from Hermione, Abigail stood from her seat. As she turned to exit the Great Hall, she motioned Draco to follow her closely. Luckily for Abigail, no one else seemed to notice anything that happened – then again, why would they?

“Hanging out with Weasley too now?” Draco mocked as he and Abigail slipped into a small, empty broom closet on the first floor. “I tolerated your friendship with the Mudblood, but Weasel-bee? You’re really pushing my patience here, Abs.”

Abigail rolled her eyes at Draco before she shoved him lightly. “Don’t call her that!” she scolded. “Your little Slytherin posse isn’t around; you’re not impressing anyone with your petty name-calling, Draco.”

“But still, Abigail, Weasley?” Draco questioned as he inspected under his fingernails for any signs of dirt. He pressed his back against the wall nearest Abigail, forcing her to scoot aside to allow him room. “Your sense of judgment has gone to the dogs!”

“I suppose it has,” remarked Abigail, shooting Draco a death glare, “considering the fact that I have allowed myself to be in a broom closest with the likes of you, you cowardly snake!”

Draco rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oooh, not very friendly,” he jeered. “Your littler Gryffindor posse isn’t around; you’re not impressing anyone with your petty name-calling, Abigail.”

Great, Abigail thought, he was using her own words against her. She stiffened, straightening herself to her full height… but even then she was still shorter than Draco, who now still leaned lazily against the wall. “Your so-called group of friends isn’t any bigger in numbers than mine, Malfoy,” retorted Abigail thinking of the four other Slytherins Draco seemed to frequently be around.

“Is that so, Crenshaw?” Draco sneered. “What? Have you gone completely mental and allowed Saint Potter and his sinful sweetheart to join your band of Gryffindors-?”

The glare Abigail shot at Draco was enough to shut the Slytherin up. Right now, the last person she wanted to hear about was the despicable Caitlyn Moore. The idea of the girl hadn’t crossed Abigail’s mind too much while she was wallowing in her own sorrows, but now that Draco had mentioned it…. Abigail wanted to rid Wizarding World – or maybe even the world in general – of the she-demon.

“Or not…” Draco added quietly, pushing himself off of the wall. “What’s the matter, Crenshaw? The Potter-Moore relationship getting too much for you to handle? I saw that look you shot me in the Great Hall; obviously, things are not getting better for you-.”

“I shot you no look, Malfoy!” Abigail defended. “You shot me the look!”

He rolled his eyes once more, towering over her as he stood up straight. “A look to which you responded, Abigail; if I remember correctly, you frowned at me and shook your head!”

“I wouldn’t have done that if Harry hadn’t called me ‘Abby’!” Abigail shouted without thinking. The memory resurfaced her thoughts and she could feel herself drowning in her distant past. Shutting her eyes, she tried to drown out the past.

Draco’s eyes widened, shocked at what he was hearing. “He didn’t,” Draco said, quickly taking the shorter girl by the shoulders. When he received no reply whatsoever from the Gryffindor, the platinum blonde sighed and brought her a little closer to him, pulling Abigail into a tight, protective hug. “How the bloody hell does he know you by that name?”

In the same way that Draco was the only person to ever see her vulnerable side, Abigail was the only person he would openly express (to a certain degree, at least) his fondness for her and his protective nature. Shrugging, Abigail brought her hands to Draco’s chest and immediately buried her head within the wrinkles of Draco’s Slytherin robes. She groaned miserably as she felt Draco’s hold on her loosen.

“Hey, look at me, Abs,” he said gently, bringing fingers to her chin and lifting it so they could see eye to eye. “You’re going to be fine, okay? You-.”

“Draco!” Abigail shouted, pushing him away roughly. “No, I won’t be fine! I can barely stand it when Caitlyn calls me ‘Abby’, but to have people calling me that on a regular basis, not knowing its origin – no!”

Draco rolled his eyes. Despite how broken Abigail seemed to be, the Slytherin knew very well of how over-dramatic she could become when it was just the two of them. He took a step another step away from Abigail, giving her as much space as he assumed she needed; Draco did not want a repeat of their last emotional encounter…

“Oh, stow it, Crenshaw,” Draco coolly hissed at her. “It’s not like all of Hogwarts has gone out of their way to mock you with that nickname; it’s just Potter. And besides, you said it yourself: even if they did start calling you Abby, they wouldn’t know the origin!”

“But I would, Draco, I would!” Abigail cried out. “You live a perfect life with your perfect family in your perfect manor. Perfect, perfect, perfect! Caitlyn never had a reason to mock you-.”

A small smirk tugged at the end of Draco’s lip. “She used to make fun of my hair. The only ones free of her torture were Blaise and Pansy! Blaise because she was infatuated with the bloke and Pansy because she scares the shite out of Moore.”

“But you changed your hairstyle!” Abigail remarked. “After third year, she stopped going out of her way to say stupid things about how dumb your hair looked. But she’ll never stop with me. With me, there’s always something…”

Draco glanced down at Abigail with a small frown. It was like she was purposely looking at the negative side of the situation! What happened to the Abigail he knew growing up – the little girl who tried to look for the good in everything and everyone? What happened to the Gryffindor girl he had fallen for all those years ago?

“If you say so…” he muttered with a quick sigh, crossing his arms. “So… what are we wearing to the ball?”

Abigail looked up at Draco with a look of disbelief. Had he not heard her little spiel? Or was he just choosing to ignore her? Could the Slytherin boy not see how broken she felt anymore? What had happened to the sympathetic child she once knew – the childhood friend she would play with in her backyard? Where did the Draco Malfoy she once dated go?

“The dance is the last thing on my mind right now, Malfoy!” Abigail straightened her posture and refused to make eye contact with Draco. One minute he was holding her in his arms, the way he used to… and the next, he was concerned over affairs as petty as the school’s masquerade! But then again… she was the one who had over-reacted in the first place… “I’m surprised you even had the guts to ask me to this year’s ball considering the little stunt you pulled at the Yule Ball!”

“You haven’t changed one bit, Crenshaw!” Rolling his eyes, Draco thought back to the scene in the library two years ago. “And if I must remind you, it was you who wanted to keep our relationship a secret! Forgive me for wanting to respect your wishes!”

“You didn’t have to ask that Beauxbatons girl!”

The young Malfoy bit his tongue. He knew better than to reference anything from his past – especially the dark mystery of his relationship with Abigail. He shook his head as if hoping his thoughts would disappear from his mind.

“If it’s any consolation to you,” Draco said coolly, “she threw pumpkin juice in my face after Pansy had a nice little chat with her.”

“You bloody deserved it,” Abigail murmured, staring down at the floor beneath her.

And there it was, Draco told himself, the infamous pout of Abigail Crenshaw. There was something still bothering her. But she refused to listen to reason! How could anyone change her mind about the matter? It wasn’t like Draco could just march up into the Gryffindor Common Room and explain to Potter the history between Abigail and Caitlyn, right? No, the idea itself was simply absurd!

“You’ll live, Abs,” he whispered to Abigail, pulling her into another tight hug. “You lived when she taunted you when we were younger. And you’ll live now… because you’ve got Granger and Weasley on your side this time…”

Shutting her eyes, Abigail took a deep breath. There he was – the Draco she knew and loved. Smiling, Abigail returned the hug. “Thank you, Draco. I’ve missed this…”

Draco continued to stare down at Abigail with his signature smirk. “So have I, Abs. So have I.”



“You’re friends with Malfoy?” Ron exclaimed. He, Hermione and Abigail were now sitting in the privacy of the Gryffindor Common Room. They had arrived a lot later than the other students, so by now, the common room was clearing out. In fact, the common room was oddly empty. “Are you mental?”

“Not completely,” muttered the blonde to the lanky redhead. “Look, Ron, as I explained to Hermione this afternoon: the Malfoys are very good friends with my father. After my mother passed away, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy helped my father with his grieving. Draco and I are even going to the Masquerade Ball together.”

“Nope! That’s it: you’re completely mental, Abigail!” remarked Ron with disbelief in his eyes. “Hermione, tell her she’s mental!”

“Ronald!” Hermione scolded from the squishy armchair. “Take that back! If Abigail sees the good in Malfoy, who are we to judge? I mean… he and his family aren’t exactly… well… they aren’t that bad? Oh, who am I trying to kid? Abigail, the Malfoys are just terrible.”

Abigail found herself staring blankly at the fire that danced in the fireplace. The last thing she wanted to have to hear was a lecture about the Malfoys. Rolling her eyes, she glanced back at Hermione and Ron who continued to go on and on about the wretchedness of the pureblood family.

“I get it!” she hissed at the duo. “They’re not all that good, okay? But if you could just stay out of my personal affairs for now… I thought we were banding together to help your friend get out of his toxic relationship… so could we please try to focus on that?”

Hermione and Ron muttered their apologies to Abigail solemnly.

“That map was supposed to be in his truck,” Hermione thought back to their conversation at dinner. “He hasn’t touched it since he started dating Caitlyn. I think the last time he even bothered with it was last year during our DA meetings!”

Abigail scratched the back of her head with a frown. “You’re saying that the map just sprouted legs and hopped out of his trunk? Hermione, even in the Wizarding World, that sounds insane!”

“What if someone took it?” Ron blurted out.