The night went incredibly slow, people coming in and out of the library as I sat there, waiting for 10:00 to arrive. Dinner had been fairly uncomfortable, Ron, Hermione, and Harry looking over various times throughout the course of the meal, as if expecting me to lash out right then and there for no reason.

I had wanted to tell Hermione why I had done what I had, but I wasn't sure that Hermione would be able to keep the secret. She hadn't when the four of us were divided and she would do whatever was necessary to get us back to the way things were before. I didn't know if this plan of Dumbledore's was going to work or if it was simply going to leave me friendless, desperately trying to apologize and give a decent sounding lie for why I acted the way that I did.

At fifteen minutes to ten I removed myself from my perch near one of the big windows and headed towards the door. The librarian nodded at me politely as I exited and I headed down the hallway towards Professor Dumbledore's office. As I walked I couldn't help but notice a pain forming nearing my right temple. I rubbed it furiously, hoping that it would go away, but the more I walked the worse it seemed to get.

I stopped, leaning against the cold wall for support as I felt an image was trying to pop into my head. I kneeled down, closing my eyes and letting the image come to me. I could see a black door at the end of the hallway; the floor was black marble and the door appeared to be heavily guarded by some kind of spell or enchantment. I was surprisingly low to the ground, almost as if I had been crawling rather than walking, and despite no one being around me I felt myself starting to head back the opposite direction.

I slithered along, the mental picture of where I was fading in and out, becoming a blur, before becoming as clear as day. I felt myself gasp as I stared into the slitted eyes that Harry had described to us so perfectly. He was smiling, obviously pleased by whatever it was that he had just been told.

I felt the throbbing leave and felt it was safe to open my eyes. I stood up shakily, still leaning on the wall for support as I continued my way down the hall. Professor Dumbledore, whom I had expected to be in his office, was standing outside the statue waiting for me.

"Abby, I am so glad that you could make it," he said with a warm smile.

His face remained calm until I was completely disclosed in the light of the flame near us. I saw some of the color drain from his skin and concern eliminated whatever cool emotion he had. Most prided Dumbledore on remaining calm no matter what the circumstance was, but I for one knew that Dumbledore was merely good at hiding emotion, but really he felt more troubled than most would expect him to.

"Come inside and we shall discuss," he said, whispering lemon drop to the statue before it moved sideways and exposed that familiar staircase. I followed Dumbledore up it, my head still throbbing slightly, and fell into the cushioned chair in front of his desk.

"You had an image?" asked Dumbledore, choosing to stand and pace, rather than sit and force himself to be still.

"As I was walking her. I kept seeing this black door at the end of the hallway. It almost looked like it belonged in the Ministry of Magic headquarters. I was low to the ground, almost as if I was crawling. The last thing I saw was Voldemort smiling at something someone had told him."

Dumbledore stopped and looked at me for a couple of moments. "Is there anyway you could have been inside of Harry's head?"

"It's possible. His reaction to our little fight has been on my mind." I started to play with the edge of my robe, finding peace in something to put my energy and nerves into.

"Yes...thank you for having the fight by the way. I know that must have been rather difficult for you. I do believe that it is working though."

"But Professor, I thought you said the fight would help to take Harry's mind off of the dreams."

"Yes. I do believe that it will consciously give him something else to think about. What I am concerned about is Harry's curiosity. I am aware that this visions he is having are of much importance to him and that he is eager to figure out what exactly is behind that door."

"Do you know what's behind that door Professor?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Yes, but I feel that it might be better if I keep that information from you, that way if the time comes you will be able to truthfully say you do not know."

I sat there for a couple of minutes, wondering who would possibly be curious about Harry's dreams other than Professor Dumbledore and me, and found Dolores Umbridge's face popping into my mind.

"Is Professor Umbridge still trying to figure out the reasons behind our meetings?"

Dumbledore had stopped pacing and sat down in the chair behind his desk. He smiled at me gently.

"Yes, she has been rather diligent...questioning other Professors at the school as well as trying sneakier methods such as spy charms and the like. I do believe that we can speak freely in here though. I have methods of my own to keep the peeping toms out."

I smiled. We sat there in silence for a couple of moments. "Professor Dumbledore, I know you want me to keep you inside of Harry's head and all, but to be quite honest not much has been happening other than the image I just got before here. Most of the time Harry is just thinking about ordinary things."

"Yes...we should take that to be a good thing. I would prefer for you to come to our meetings without much to report, and for the time being let us hope that the door and hallway are the only things that Harry sees."

"But Professor, wouldn't it be useful to have inside access to Voldemort's thoughts?"

"It would be, but my fear is what may happen if Voldemort were to become aware of the connection between him and Harry. Ultimately that is why I am asking you to do this for me."

"Professor...I am not sure that I will be able to sense if Voldemort is aware of the connection or not until it's too late."

"Abby, you doubt your abilities. You were able to sense Harry's distress, even though it was a bad dream, without even meaning to. Phoenix animagi are known for their ability to have a six sense when it comes to people that they love and care about."

I nodded my head. My mother had often found it weird when I was younger that I could sense when she was about to get sick, or when things at work were not going her way. I had always chalked it up to me just being more observant than most.

"Abby, I am sorry to make you fight with your closest friends."

"It's alright Professor. I understand how important this is."

He stared at me for a couple of moments. "I know that my opinion on such matters might be seen as foolish words from an old man, but I do believe that Harry will come to see just how much you truly mean to him. It might not seem like it now, but I believe in the future, he will see."

I felt my cheeks start to redden slightly. "Thank you Professor."

"I merely speak the truth. I know that you have your first class with Professor Umbridge tomorrow, and I do ask that you be on your guard. It would not surprise me if she tries to interrogate you as well."

"Thanks for the warning."

"I believe that is all for this evening, but do keep doing what you are doing."

"Have a good night Professor." I got up from my chair and headed towards the door, stopping with my hand on the door knob.

"Professor?"

"Yes Abby?"

"Do you think I could be capable of getting into Voldemort's head through Harry's?"

Dumbledore was quiet for several moments. "Yes Abby I do believe that you could if you wanted to. I will admit that it is tempting to try and see inside the mind of a man so powerful and twisted as Tom's."

I stood there for a moment, the image of the boy holding the tin box coming into my head, before opening the door and leaving. Perhaps Voldemort could find out about Harry being inside his head, but could he find out about me?