Harry Potter and the Circle of Oblivion

A/N - I know it's been FOREVER since I updated. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I'm still a bit buried under this new job and it pains me just as much not to have time to write. I'm working on it, though. Bear with me!! And some of you asked for longer chapters, but I just can't right now… hope this is enough for the moment…

***

“I hope it is a pertinent matter to which Potter, Weasley and Granger must attend as you are withdrawing them in the middle of a lesson.” Professor Snape said thickly to Professor McGonagall, eyes dark.

“I assure you, Severus, that it is. I would not remove them from instruction otherwise.” She turned away, unfazed and swooped past the teens, “Come along.”

Hermione sighed deeply and looked at Harry, adjusting the strap on her bag. “Not even a week back. What do you think?”

“I don't know. Nothing's happened.” He intended to continue but was hushed by a penetrating look from Professor McGonagall. Ron gulped and Harry looked at him for a moment, stifling a laugh.

“On a tear, isn't she?” Ron whispered.

Professor McGonagall shouted, “Pumpkin Juice!” at the entrance to Dumbledore's office and the three friends stood and watched, no longer in awe of the stone gargoyle or spinning staircase. Going to the headmaster's office had become much to commonplace.

“He's expecting you.” Professor McGonagall gave Harry a look that confused him before turning, heels clicking on the floor as she faded into the distance.

They wandered into Dumbledore's office but he was nowhere to be seen and without noticing, they gravitated to different areas of the room. Harry toward the glass cabinet, Hermione to the large bookcase in the corner and Ron, to Fawkes' perch.

Embroiled in individual thoughts, they did not see the smiling headmaster appear from the upper chambers.

“Curiosity takes many forms, I see.”

“Sorry, Professor, we didn't--” Hermione began.

Dumbledore held up a hand and shook his head, “It is of no matter to me, Miss Granger. Without curiosity, we would surely perish from lack of knowledge.”

Hermione nodded and looked to Harry as they found their seats.

“What's happened Professor?” Harry asked without hesitation, his relationship with Dumbledore too honest to feign polite conversation when heavier matters hung in the air.

“Shall we waste no time?” Dumbledore asked quietly, “I suppose not.” The looks he received bade him do nothing but continue. “I did not interrupt your holiday with this information, as some things must remain sacred, even in the midst of war; but now you must know.”

“Is someone hurt?” Ron asked.

“No, but as we are aware, many are in danger.” His gaze darted to Hermione, halting his speech momentarily, “Miss Granger, there has been an attack on your parents' home.”

Hermione gasped, a small, Mum!, escaping from her lips as a hand flew to her mouth, eyes immediately moist. Harry instinctively grabbed for her other hand and Ron looked on, stunned.

“Are the Grangers… what's…” Harry tried to speak for all of them, but could not formulate his thoughts.

“They are fine. We removed them some time ago and have hidden them quite well. The house has been destroyed.”

Hermione seemed to gain her bearings, but wrenched Harry's hand tightly. “When did this happen?”

“The attack came three days ago, on New Year's Eve. Your parents, however, have not been there since Christmas Day. When you left for the Burrow, myself and several other members of the Order were waiting to take them into seclusion.”

“They knew?” She said incredulously, “But why didn't they tell me?”

“I instructed them not to. And they did not wish to place any further strain upon you than necessary.”

“Further strain!” Hermione stood, “Did no one think it might be somewhat of a strain now? Not knowing where they are! What if he finds them?”

“Hermione…” Harry began, pulling her back into the chair, but Dumbledore quieted them both.

“I assure you they are safe.” Dumbledore took out a sheet of parchment and scribbled something onto it before passing it across the desk. “Do not say it aloud.”

Harry, Hermione and Ron leaned in and read the words “In Florence.”

“Is anyone watching them?” Her voice was still shaky.

Dumbledore nodded. “We have been keeping guard over them since first learning of Harry's dream. It was then that we realized our assumptions were correct. We were not the only ones surveying the house.”

“So my dream… when Pettigrew said he'd been watching…” Harry's face grew red with fury.

“We never saw Peter, only various Death Eaters. But it was enough to warrant our warning the Grangers and formulating a plan to remove them. After that it was simple enough to learn when the attack was to occur.”

“If all of you were there watching, how did they not see you?” Ron finally spoke.

“There are ways, Mr. Weasley.” Dumbledore said cryptically.

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione and back, “So what are we to do with this, Professor?”

“To take it for what it was meant to be in the first place.” Dumbledore looked at him sternly, “A warning.”

“Can I see them?” Hermione had yet to let go of Harry's hand.

Dumbledore shook his head, “It is not safe yet. You may write them.” He held up a finger, “But any letter you send must be carried by Fawkes. He has ways to disguise himself that owls do not.”

The room hung in silence until Harry spoke, barely audible, “It's my fault.”

“Harry!” Hermione looked at him angrily.

“What?!” Harry's voice rose a bit, “If you weren't friends with me, Voldemort wouldn't care two knuts about hurting you. Or your family.”

“But I AM friends with you. And that's MY choice!” Hermione's volume matched Harry's, “We've talked about this a hundred times and I won't do it again!”

He turned to face her, “We'll discuss it a hundred times more, I'm sure, because you're so stubborn!”

“ME?” She turned as well, “That's rich! It's not about YOU, Harry! Even if I weren't your friend, Voldemort would eventually come after me because I'm muggle-born. Don't you know that?”

“True or not, being with me puts you in the main fray and I can't--”

“Will the both of you stop it!” Ron said loudly before mumbling under his breath, “I can't believe I'm the one breaking up the argument for once.”

“Mr. Weasley is right,” Dumbledore said, seeming amused somehow. “The most important thing at this time is that the Grangers are safe. I promise to keep you well informed of any new developments as usual, for now, I suggest the three of you go back to Gryffindor tower without dispute. And,” He held up a finger, “I must impress upon you how important it is that you not discuss this with anyone.” His arm stretched out and Fawkes flew over, landing gracefully on his arm. “Miss Granger, you may use Fawkes' whenever you like. All you need to is call to him.”

Hermione nodded her head and the trio, knowing their time with Dumbledore was over, walked silently back to the tower.

***

Hermione's internal debate raged for a full hour before she ultimately gave up. She knew the founders of the school had made it possible for girls to go into the boys' dormitory as an act of trust. And she also knew she was breaking that trust with her reason for going, but found it didn't matter.

She slipped out of bed and moved quietly. No one was in the common room and the embers from the fire cast an eerie glow over the furniture. Everything seemed larger somehow and Hermione felt herself hasten as she tiptoed up the stairs.

She opened the door, finding him immediately. The curtains weren't drawn around his bed and he laid there, eyes open, staring out the window.

“I can't sleep.” He said without looking at her.

“I…” her voice sounded hoarse, “I couldn't either.”

“You could get in trouble,” he said flatly.

She looked at him oddly and moved toward his bed, “I don't care.”

They had gone to bed earlier, almost wordlessly and without a goodnight, not having discussed Hermione's parents or their argument. Now it hung between them.

“I'm sorry.” He said, voice cracking, “About earlier. I shouldn't have yelled.”

“Me either.” She seemed to float from the doorway to his bedside. She knelt down and placed her elbows on the bed.

“But I meant what I said.” They spoke at the same time and looked at one another, laughter in their eyes.

“Well, that's that, then.” Harry grinned.

“I suppose you're right.” She smiled.

“Hermione, are you… alright? With your parents and everything?”

“Yes.” She nodded, “I can't lie and say I didn't think the worst for a moment, but I've already written them and received a reply.”

“Fawkes?”

“Of course. I've studied Phoenixes and they have extraordinary traveling powers. It's their own form of apparating almost, but it's more like--”

“Hermione. The letter?”

“Right,” she blushed a bit, “They sounded fine. As always they were more worried about me than anything else.

“As they should be.” Harry said darkly.

“We're not going to start up another row are we?”

Harry looked intently at her, eyes warm, “No, I'd rather not have another one of those.”

Hermione nodded in agreement and joined him in looking out the window. The night was clear and black, the stars glittering like pieces of fireworks frozen in place.

“Why can't you sleep?” She said finally.

“I'm afraid if I go to sleep, he'll be there. I can't think of anything else.”

“Harry…” Hermione's heart bled.

“I feel it coming.”

“It's always on its way, Harry.” She sighed. “It never really ended, did it? Not even when you defeated him as a baby. It's never stopped. We've only allowed ourselves to think it has.”

“That's comforting.” Harry said wryly.

Hermione leaned closer, taking his hand in both of hers, “Denying it won't make it any less real.”

“I know.”

Hermione watched him intently, the sadness in his voice overwhelming. Without knowing how she got there, she found herself sitting on the bed beside him, the words, “Shove over,” spilling out of her mouth.

Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at her, “What are you doing?”

“Lying down. What does it look like?”

Harry opened his mouth to question her before moving over, but realized he didn't want to.

She didn't crawl under the cover with him, but drew the curtains, wand raised, and whispered something Harry couldn't hear, before falling back onto the pillow. She stayed on her back and Harry rolled to his side weaving his fingers with hers.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She turned her head to look at him, smiling.

He kissed the back of her hand and blinked slowly, “Goodnight, Hermione.”

***

Harry awoke the next morning, sunlight streaming in through a small crack in his bed curtains. Hermione was nowhere to be seen and he rubbed hard at his eyes, unsure if she'd actually been there at all. He reached toward the bedside table, feeling for his glasses and found a small note resting underneath them, You really meant it! I think Ron had the spider dream three times within an hour. Harry smiled to himself, looked up to see his friends still sleeping, and slid the note into his drawer.

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