Harry Potter and the Circle of Oblivion

A/N: Well, you wanted a longer chapter and this is about a page and a half more than usual. Hope it's up to par. And I'll just tell you… you aren't getting a kiss until the end. Don't shoot.

***

Hermione walked through the next day in an extremely uncharacteristic daze. Not only had she gone into the boys' dormitory with the intention of seeing Harry - just because she wanted to - she'd also slept there. On his bed. For two hours.

He would never know, and she would never tell, that the reason she woke up was because he rolled over, slinging an arm across her waist. It had made her feel… silly. An emotion she didn't handle well.

“Bloody hell, Hermione!” She heard a voice behind her and felt a set of hands on her shoulders, steering, “You're about to run into that wall, don't you see it?”

“Ron! You scared me!”

“Yeah, well, if I hadn't, your face would look like Crookshanks' right now!”

“Thank you,” she said sarcastically.

“So what do you think Harry wants to talk to us about tonight?” Ron asked, falling in step with her.

“I have no idea,” she shook her head earnestly, biting her lip, “Top secret conversations can usually mean only one thing.”

“Yeah,” Ron nodded, “You-know-who.”

***

They were right.

“Hermione!” Harry whispered into his photograph, hoping she hadn't fallen asleep waiting on them. “Hermione, are you ready?”

“I'm downstairs,” came the reply.

Harry smiled to himself. “We're coming.”

He and Ron snuck quietly down to the common room where Hermione was waiting, books spread around her on the floor.

“I know you're there.” She said, writing something down quickly.

“Are you studying?” Ron asked incredulously.

“No, I'm actually in the middle of an inquisition.”

“Enough.” Harry said, stopping it before it started, “Come on.”

Hermione stood up, stretched and as soon as she reached the boys, was pulled beneath the invisibility cloak with them.

“Oh this never works well for my feet.” She whispered, looking at Ron.

They moved as one toward the door and out into the hallway. At night the corridors of Hogwarts became an intricate maze, stretching in multiple directions, and the trio spoke only when necessary as they fought through them. Once they found their place by Barnabas' tapestry, Harry turned and looked at the other two, “All concentrating on the same thing, right?”

Hermione and Ron nodded, “Yep.” Together they walked back and forth three times, a door materializing on the last cross.

“Come on.” Harry said grabbing for the handle.

When he pushed open the door Ron whistled. “Looks just like the common room. Good idea, Hermione.”

“Well,” she stepped in behind them, “it's comfortable and we don't have to worry about anyone appearing from upstairs.”

“And we don't have to whisper!” Ron said, plopping down onto the couch.

“So, what's this about, Harry?” She asked, dropping the cloak onto the arm of one of the wing chairs and joining Ron on the couch.

Harry pulled up a chair and sat down across from them, “I've made a decision.”

“About?”

“Voldemort.” He said quickly, “Supposedly he went after squibs last term, but the only one we know he attacked is Mrs. Figg, so it can't be about them. Now he's gone after Hermione's parents and while they ARE muggles, he had no reason to attack them except for the fact that they're tied to me because of you.” He looked meaningfully at Hermione. “He's going after people who it would affect me to lose or see hurt.”

“Guess the Weasley's should be on guard,” Ron said, half joking, but with a touch of fear in his voice.

“It's not really surprising, though, Harry,” Hermione responded, “It's almost expected in a way.”

“I know. But I have to find a way to stop it. If he wants me, that's fine, but I won't put anyone else in danger.”

“Everyone's in danger, with or without you, mate.” Ron's voice was flat.

“That's true, but I can try my best to prevent anything else from happening.”

“How?” Hermione's voice quivered.

“Let him in.” Harry said simply. “Stop blocking my thoughts, stop trying to focus on other things.”

“No!” Hermione interjected. “Absolutely not. Tell him, Ron.”

Ron grimaced, “I sort of agree with him, Hermione. Harry can… monitor what's going on without having to be face to face with… you know.”

“This is ridiculous!” She shouted again, “What good will it do?”

“Hermione, you know what good it will do. We'll know what's coming.”

“Maybe, but what if it's all a ruse like before?”

“It's not. I know.” His eyes silenced any objection on that account.

“Fine. But what about how it will affect you? What about the things he'll learn by having free reign on your thoughts, your mind?”

“I've thought about that, but he's the one with the plans, I have nothing to hide.”

“Harry.”

“Hermione, I appreciate the concern, but I've made up my mind and nothing you say is going to change it.”

Knowing that to be true, Hermione backed off, saying only, “I take it you're not telling Dumbledore or any of the Order about this?”

“Not unless I find out something they need to know. It would only cause an unnecessary uproar.”

“So does this mean more dreams and such you think?” Ron asked, brow furrowed.

“Probably.”

“Harry,” Hermione said, pointing, “In that first dream you had, Voldemort said he was trying to draw you out. Don't you think it's a bit dangerous… playing into his hands?”

“It would happen eventually, wouldn't it?” He asked, grim. “Somehow we always end up face to face.”

***

Harry's idea was noble, but his `open mind' was abnormally blank.

January burgeoned into February with nothing to show for all of his pontificating on the values of inviting in the enemy. His arrival at the decision to leave himself exposed had begun with baited breath and was now falling back into the pockets of his brain that only occasionally made themselves known.

And today was not one of those occasions. It was a Hogsmeade weekend and more than that, it was Valentine's day.

It seemed like every girl at Hogwarts had taken a giggle pill spiked with something that made their cheeks flush every time a boy passed by. He was, as usual, completely oblivious to the fact that many of the gushing looks and sighs were meant for him.

Hermione was utterly disgusted with it all and was freely distributing looks she usually reserved for Malfoy and Professor Trelawney.

“If I hear one more high pitched squeal come out of Parvati Patil's mouth I WILL hex it shut!” She slammed her books down at the table in the Great Hall.

“YOU haven't had Luna Lovegood come and stand in front of you, say nothing, and stare for at least a solid minute, then shrug and walk off.” Ron shouted, “Three times today!” He grabbed a chicken leg, “What's going on around here? Everyone's gone nutters.”

“Looney, huh?” Hermione laughed, “Well, Ron, looks like sh…” Hermione cast a glance sideways at Harry, who was vehemently shaking his head. “Er… looks like everyone needs a stay in the looney bin.” She looked at Harry and shrugged, hoping her recovery worked.

“No joke!” Ron nodded.

“So I suppose that means none of us will be taking dates to Hogsmeade tomorrow.” Harry smirked.

“Why is it necessary to set aside one day to give attention to someone special? Why not just show them you care everyday instead of rushing off to the flower shop at the last minute and scrambling to find a suitable gift?” Hermione pulled her hair into a ponytail, unaware of the way Harry was studying her, “It just seems silly to me.”

“I agree,” Harry said earnestly, “What with the Cho disaster and all.”

“Well, if this is what it's going to do to bloody girls every year, count me out as well.” Ron wiped his mouth, “Not that I have any experience to share, but it just sounds ruddy stupid.”

The three of them laughed and went on to plan their own day in Hogsmeade, “minus the dramatics,” Hermione said.

***

Harry had no delusions. He knew Hermione was being absolutely honest when she explained her feelings about Valentine's Day because he shared them. She was not an overly romantic person prone to swooning and fawning over boys and those things usually held no interest for her. But he also knew that everyone, even the most pragmatic of people, liked to feel special.

During dinner, he slipped the copy of Hogwarts: A History that she often kept in her bag (“Just in case.”) into his and hoped she didn't notice. He couldn't make it into the girls' dormitory and this proved his best idea.

“Ron!” He called later that night. “Are you done?”

“Just finishing.” Ron walked over to Harry's bed, “I tried.”

Harry fought a smile and took the parchment from Ron's fingers, “Let me see.”

Dear Hermione, Harry read aloud, “I know we're all a bit buggered over this stupid holiday, but just wanted to let you know I'm glad it's the three of us and I'm not stuck with some bloody, squealing idiot. Love, Ron.

Harry couldn't contain himself and was buried in laughter for a solid minute before he heard what Ron was saying to him, “What? Not good?”

“It's perfect,” Harry snickered, “She'll love it.”

“Good because that's about as much as you're going to get.”

Harry folded the letter and gathered a few things together. “I'll be back in a bit.”

He made sure she wasn't in the common room, found her circle of books laid out on the floor as usual, and placed Hogwarts: A History with the rest of them before stealing back upstairs.

Hermione came in a few moments later, quite agitated, Colin Creevy trailing behind her. “Colin, will you stop following me around with the camera? The search for my book does not need to be documented. I only asked if you had seen it, not that you run an investigation.”

“Well, I hope you find it then, Hermione. I know you read it lots.” He smiled excitedly, “Have fun at Hogsmeade tomorrow!” And his small figured darted up the stairs.

Hermione sighed, muttering under her breath, and made her way to her `study circle' as Lavendar had, rather teasingly, named it.

“There it is!” She said upon seeing the missing text. “It wasn't there, I know it!” She was rather exasperated and then upon taking a closer look, smiled brightly.

She opened the pages and two things fell out. A piece of folded parchment and a pink rose that had been peeking out of the top, a bit of parchment rolled around its stem.

Hermione opened the small letter first and laughed out loud at Ron's sentiment before sliding the other piece carefully off the stem of the rose.

Not because of Valentine's Day, but because of you.

Love,

Harry

Hermione felt herself take a breath and pressed her nose into the flower, a grin sneaking its way onto her lips.

***

“Is it mandatory to wear red today?” Harry asked, looking at the mass of scarlet around them as they trudged through the crowd near Honeydukes.

“No one told us,” Hermione laughed and looked between her brown jumper, Harry's navy blue one and Ron's black jacket.

“I'm not sure how much more I can handle.” Ron said, watching disgustedly as Seamus snogged Lavendar in full view of everyone.

“Trying to figure out how you do that, Weasley?” The horrid voice of Draco Malfoy asked, motioning toward Seamus and Lavendar. “I bet Potter can give you some good tips after Cho.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “You need to update your material, Malfoy. I've only heard that one five hundred times before this. If you're going to insult me, at least have a good go at it.”

“Don't push me, Potter!” He feigned a reach for his wand.

“Oh back off into your corner, Malfoy.” Hermione shot.

“Must be hard, Granger,” He snapped his head in her direction, “not knowing which loser to choose. Do you go for the scarhead or the weasel?” He tapped his chin in mock thought.

Pansy Parkinson was hanging on his arm and laughed like a hyena.

“Well,” Hermione said, bored, “I'll just be glad I didn't have to make the decision poor Pansy did. Of course, given the choice between you, Crabbe and Goyle, I think she's made a wrong one. With the other two, at least they're aware they're stupid and keep their mouths shut instead of parading their idiocy like a crown around school. But perhaps some girls like that. Enjoy your afternoon.”

Harry and Ron covered bit their lips to stop the laughter and turned to follow her, the look on Malfoy's face blazing in their eyes.

“That was brilliant, Hermione.” Harry said laughing.

“Bloody brilliant.” Ron echoed and Hermione smiled.

“I know.”

An hour later they were settled into a corner at Madame Rosmerta's, sipping butterbeer and laughing ridiculously at all number of things from Draco Malfoy to Colin Creevy, who had been shoved no less than six times from a table for taking pictures of people snogging.

Out of nowhere, Neville appeared at their table, “Ron?” He asked shakily, “Could you do me a favor?”

“What is it Neville?”

“Ginny's asked me to go with her to the Post Office and then to Honeydukes and I sort of… I told her I was supposed to be meeting you and she said you could come along.”

Ron looked toward the door, saw Ginny waiting impatiently and shook his head, “Neville, why would you tell her that?”

“I got a bit nervous.”

Hermione was looking at Neville with a queer sort of empathy resting on her face that Ron was sure would make him feel like a git if he said no. “Fine.” He stood and shoved his chair under the table, “Meet you in a bit?” He asked Harry and Hermione.

“Of course.” Hermione smiled, “Have fun Neville.”

“Yeah…” He waved and followed Ron to the door.

“Poor Neville,” Hermione pushed aside the chuckle that was threatening, but Harry couldn't.

“Poor Ron is more like it!”

They talked for a bit and were finishing up their butterbeers when Hermione asked if he wanted to take a walk.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded thoughtfully.

They maneuvered through the crowd and out into the cool streets, turning to one another, “Where to?” She asked.

“I dunno,” Harry took a breath, “Toward the shack maybe?” And as he had opted to do so many times lately, he took her hand and moved silently forward, the bustle of the main streets fading behind them.

The Shrieking Shack didn't look as it once had. The mystery and fear were gone, replaced with understanding and compassion for the shows of friendship and loyalty that had occurred within its rickety walls.

“Weird, isn't it?” Hermione said quietly. “How things can change without looking any different.”

“Yeah.” Harry whispered, his thoughts on things other than the Shrieking Shack.

“Thank you for the rose.” She was looking out at the hills, “And the notes.”

“You're welcome.” Harry looked down at her, “I found Ron's to be the more heartfelt of the two.”

Hermione's smile widened, “He was very… open…” She lost the battle to keep her eyes from his, “But I think I liked yours more.”

That same indeterminable look she'd seen more than once came onto Harry's face and Hermione fought to keep her countenance. He seemed to be thinking something over and a sad look entered his eyes before he draped his arm around her shoulder and leaned in, planting a small kiss on her forehead.

She was about to speak when a pair of voices blasted through the trees.

“I saw you looking at her, Draco!”

Harry and Hermione ran, hiding behind a large tree as Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson came into the clearing. Big as the tree was, Harry had to pull Hermione tightly to him to keep the other two from seeing them.

“Pansy, don't be ridiculous!”

“I won't stand for it!”

“Come on, let's not talk about it.”

“I'm not about to snog you while you've got another girl on the brain!”

Hermione almost revealed herself with a sneer and Harry cupped his hand quickly against her mouth, watching her eyes laugh instead.

Malfoy and Pansy's voices seemed to fade and Harry wasn't sure whether that was due to them actually leaving, or the fact that Hermione's face was drumming out every other sense.

She lost awareness of them as well when he slowly released his hand from her mouth, eyes trained on her in a way that seemed foreign and yet, oddly recognizable.

His hand trailed down her cheek and Hermione felt her eyes closing ever so slightly. Was Harry leaning toward her or was that her imagination? He was definitely holding her tightly. She could hear his breath coming out raggedly and realized it was possible her heart was louder.

Then the voices came reeling back in.

“She may be pure-blood, Draco, but she's a Weasley!”

Both Hermione and Harry had to cup their mouths this time, looks of disbelief training their faces, the odd sensations they'd just felt, shoved out by shock.

“You asked me if she was pretty. I said yes!”

“You like her?” They could hear her starting back into the trees.

“Pansy, she's a Weasley. Of course I don't like her. Come on… I NEED just a little snog before we go. Pansy please…” Malfoy's begging voice disappeared and left Harry and Hermione alone again.

“Did he just say what I think he did?” Harry was grinning from ear to ear as he let go of Hermione.

She was shaking her head, a thoughtful smile lingering, “You will forever have ammunition against him.”

“I hope I won't lose interest in going at him now that he's proven to be at least part human.” Harry teased.

“I wouldn't go that far,” Hermione found his eyes and took a step back, the peculiar feeling returning.

Harry nodded and looked around, “Er… we should go back, I guess.”

“Right.” She agreed, “Right.”

“Ron will be looking for us.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he's ready to be free of Neville and Ginny.”

“Ok, then,” Harry said, “We'll go.”

It sounded like a question to Hermione, but one she hadn't studied the answer for.

“Alright then.”

Harry tossed his arm gingerly across her shoulder as they walked, “I feel like I've learned so much about Malfoy today. He has needs, you know,” he said and they both laughed out the uneasiness.

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