Naturally even though I tried to get some sleep after returning from Dumbledore's office, it didn't work. I ended up showering and getting dressed before heading downstairs and planting myself in one of the plush chairs. Ginny and Hermione came down about an hour later, laughing about something but stopping when they saw my face.

"Are you alright Abby?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. At the touch of her hand a surge of thoughts and emotions came streaming into my body at once. Instantly I jerked away from her, jumping out of the chair so quickly it startled her.

"Sorry Hermione," I said as an apologetic look streamed across her whole face. "I just didn't really sleep well last night is all, so I'm a little jumpy."

Hermione looked at me like she knew there was something else, but decided not to push it. She shifted a look at Ginny who was looking at me curiously. I hadn't looked at myself in the mirror but based off of their expressions and thoughts I must have looked pretty bad. Before Ginny was able to say anything Harry and Ron came slumping down the steps, Ron's hair looking like he had stuck his finger into an electrical socket.

"You know there are these clever inventions called brushes," said Hermione, eyeing his hair in disbelief.

"It's too much effort this soon after I've woken up," said Ron, stifling a yawn as he spoke.

With an amused roll of the eyes Hermione led us out the portrait door and down the steps to the Great Hall for breakfast. I was lagging behind, finding myself not able to concentrate on the small chatter the bunch was indulging in. Harry had fallen back with me, taking hold of my hand which sent another surge of emotion and thought through me. It was so much all at once that I ripped my hand from his and fell back against the wall, gasping slightly.

"Abby?" Harry said, taking a couple of steps towards me. "Was it something I did?"

The group in the front at stopped and was turned around looking at us, concern on all their faces.

"What's going on Harry?" Ron called out.

"Just give us a minute," said Harry, waving them on so that they would go ahead. Hermione made a step to go towards me but Ron took hold of her arm and began to lead her down the hall away from us. "Harry can handle it," he mumbled to her.

"Abby, what's wrong?" Harry asked, whispering it to me so the few students nearby didn't hear.

"I don't know," I said, looking at Harry nervously. "Everything is just too much...it's like I can't control it. I hear everything, and when Hermione touched my shoulder and you took hold of my hand...the intensity of it all just knocked the breath out of me."

"Well what can I do? Should we go see Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked, the urge to hold me so strong, but he knew it would only make things worse.

"Is there something going on here Potter?" came the usual drawl of Snape. We both turned to look to see him standing in the doorway of what appeared to be a storage room.

"No sir, nothing," said Harry, turning back to me instantly once he realized it was just Snape.

"It doesn't appear to be nothing," said Snape, shooting me a curious look.

"I'm fine," I said, pushing myself off the wall. Harry gently placed his arm on my shoulder to make sure I had balance. It sent another surge of emotion through me, but I controlled it from playing across my face. "Do you know where I could find Professor McGonagall?"

"I presume she'd be in her office," said Snape, still staring at me as if he stared long enough he might see into my soul.

"Thank you." I started to walk, Harry beside me just in case I fell over. We walked in silence, nothing but the thoughts of Harry and the other random students we passed filling my mind. We were fortunate that Professor McGonagall was in her office working on a piece of parchment. She looked up upon Harry's knock of the large, wooden door.

"Yes Mr. Potter, Miss Carson?"

"May we come in?" Harry asked. Professor McGonagall took off her spectacles and looked at me fully, instantly jumping out of her chair and practicing sprinting to me.

"What happened?" she asked, closing the door closed behind us and turning around to lead me to a seat. She placed both her hands on me, sending me crippling to the floor, screaming out in pain.

"Miss Carson?!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed.

"Touching her is too much," said Harry, bending down next to me. "She said she can't control her gift and it's making physical contact too much to bear."

Professor McGonagall bent down next to me, this time making sure not to touch me.

"When did this start happening?" she asked.

"Just this morning," I said, trying to stop my eyes from watering from the pain.

"Alright. We need to get you to the hospital wing," she said, standing up.

"What's happening to her?" Harry asked, standing up as well.

"I can't be a hundred percent sure, but if it's what I think it is we need to get her somewhere safe."

"Safe?" I said, using the wooden chair next to me to stand up. "Safe from what?"

Professor McGonagall had flung open the door to a set of scared first year faces. "I'm afraid our lesson for today will have to be postponed. Run along!"

They were practically shoved out of the way as she began to lead us down the hallway towards the hospital wing. The hallway was so crowded that the number of thoughts sent pangs to my head, especially since they were all thoughts about me.

By the time we made it to the hospital wing I was about ready to collapse. Madame Pomfrey came bustling out of her office, looking at me in terror, before rushing over to us.

"Do not touch her," said Professor McGonagall, stopping her as she reached out to touch my forehead. "It will cause her excruciating pain."

"Alright, well, come over onto the bed dear."

I slumped over to it, practically falling on top of it, before hoisting myself up and lying flat on my back. The room had started to spin from the pain in my forehead, almost like a migraine but a thousand times worse.

"What is happening to me?" I mumbled out to them.

"Something that we should have seen coming," said Professor McGonagall, leaning down so that her face was next to mine. "Abby, I need you to think very hard for me. When did you start having the dreams?"

I looked at her in surprise. "How did you know about my dreams?"

"Dumbledore told me of course, and he is on his way to here as we speak. Now, answer the question Miss Carson."

"The last week of summer," I said, the pain adding a fuzzy tint to the room.

"Ahh...Albus!" Madame Pomfrey called out.

"Professor Dumbledore, what is happening to her?" Harry asked, panic starting to come in his voice.

"Harry, I'm afraid this is not a good time for you to be here. I will come find you when you can."

"But..."

"Harry, leave."

After seeing the look on Dumbledore's face, Harry gave me one last worried look before leaving the room. Once the door was closed Dumbledore pulled the curtains closed around us, coming over to stand next to me on the other side.

"Forgive me Abby. If I had known it was going to happen this quickly I wouldn't have let you leave my office."

"If you'd known what was happening so quickly?" I asked, a rising panic starting to form in my chest.

"It's your mother Abby," Dumbledore said, looking at Madame Pomfrey who had pulled a small vial of something out of her pocket.

"What about my mother?" I said, looking at him strangely.

Before I could get a response my eyes drooped and I passed out.