Harry Potter and the Circle of Oblivion

“Excuse me, Professor, but I need Mr. Potter, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to come with me immediately.” Professor McGonagall said sternly from the door of the Charms classroom a few weeks into first term.

The three friends looked at one another questioningly, but said nothing as Professor Flitwick responded, "Yes, yes... right away." And continued to swish and flick.

Ron groaned as he loaded up his books and cast a glance at Harry, "But we haven't had time to do anything wrong yet!"

They received a howl from Malfoy on the way out, "In trouble again, Potter?" But ignored him for once, too curious about why they were being taken out of class.

"Professor," Harry inquired the moment they were in the hall, "What's this about?"

"That is not my business to say, Potter." She turned and began walking. They followed behind, weaving through the hallways wordlessly before finally stopping in front of a large stone gargoyle.

"Butter Popcorn!" Professor McGonagall shouted.

As Harry had seen several times before, the gargoyle moved away to reveal a spiral staircase which he, Hermione and Ron followed up until they found themselves in the Headmaster's office.

"Whoa..." Ron said, eyes traveling the room and landing on Fawkes.

"I often think the very same, Mr. Weasley, but do not feel I portray the emotion so well as you." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling as he strode toward them past the glass cabinet where Harry could barely see the pensive sitting, swirling eager thoughts. "Sit please." He motioned to three chairs.

Hermione had to yank Ron away from Fawes' perch, "RON!" She hissed, motioning toward their seats.

"Now," Dumbledore began, "As you are well aware, I have come to consider it quite useless for me to lure any of you to a situation under false pretenses or to draw you in and expect you to wait patiently for an answer." Harry could have sworn the older man was grinning, "I also find it fruitless to tell one of you that you must withhold any information from the other two as I know that will not happen. I would, however, request that you not share this conversation with any of your other classmates." Dumbledore looked at them for a moment, gathering his thoughts, "I do not have to tell you that great danger lies in wait for all of us, especially you, Harry."

Harry nodded knowingly, ignoring the look on Hermione's face.

"But you have something else besides an unknown power that the enemy cannot understand. A resource that is much stronger than you realize. Your friends."

The three of them looked quietly at one another.

"Yes. You are each other's greatest strength and nothing we could hope to teach you is more important than what you have learned quite without any guidance from your leaders. I find the bond you share to be quite unlike anything I have ever seen - with the exception perhaps, of James, Sirius and Remus." Dumbledore looked to be remembering something about the three men and Harry wished he could have seen into a pensive at that moment. "It is an immense advantage to each of you, as I am sure you already know, and you must not take that fact for granted. It will reward you individually and of course, together in times of great need.” He looked at them intently, “But it is also a great weakness that will be played against you."

The trio was quite confused about why they'd been called to Dumbledore's office to hear him talk about friendship, but remained silent while the headmaster shuffled bits of parchment around his desk with the wave of a hand, obviously looking for something.

“Ah, you are wondering what the secret is, no doubt.” He winked. “Well, then, if you cannot wait until I find my quill,” He waved his hand and the papers fell to the desktop. “Beginning immediately, the three of you will enter into private lessons with various staff members. These lessons, while an important tool of self-protection, will also enhance the invaluable strength you share together.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat eagerly, waiting for more.

“Mr. Weasley.”

Ron gulped as Fawkes burst into flames, “Er… yes?” His eyes kept darting toward the pile of ashes.

“You will be practicing the Patronus Charm with Professor Lupin.”

Ron's mouth fell wider than Harry remembered it being the first time they saw Fluffy, “Will I be up against loads of dementors then?” Ron looked a bit pale.

“It is a possibility, but a good patronus can guard you and your friends from many things besides a dementor. It is a powerful, powerful sort of protection and as Harry will be studying other disciplines, I find it imperative that someone else near him be able to conjure one fully formed.”

“But Professor,” Hermione began, “how will Ron study with Professor Lupin when he's at Grimmauld Place working for the Order?”

“It has been arranged.” Dumbledore said, a secret in his voice as he turned back to Ron, “You must work hard, Mr. Weasley. Very hard indeed. Yet I expect we will discover that you have much more power than you give yourself credit for.”

“Yes, sir.” The resolve in Ron's voice was shaky, but determined.

“Very good. Now, Miss Granger. Your task is one of great skill and much determination. It cannot be done overnight and I would advise you not to feel a failure if you do not grasp it fully within the first three lessons.”

Hermione blushed.

“Could you remind her of that regularly, Professor, because I'm almost certain she'll forget.” Harry smiled.

“Yeah, bloody perfectionist.” Ron followed before realizing who he was talking to and snapping his mouth shut, which Dumbledore seemed to find amusing.

Hermione was about to speak as the headmaster held up a hand, “I have always admired your frankness with one another and feel that both of you are up to the task of keeping Miss Granger in good spirits without much help from me.”

“But what am I learning professor?” She asked.

“Professor McGonagall will be teaching you quite a bit of advanced transfiguration.” Hermione looked defeated as she was already very good at that discipline. “No, no, Miss Granger, I assure you this you have not yet mastered. You will be studying to become an animagus.”

Ron almost fell out of his chair and Hermione seemed, for once, quite speechless.

“Really?” She finally stammered.

Dumbledore nodded proudly and paused again. “And Harry.” The headmaster brought his hand into the air and made a slight sweeping motion which brought a quill from across the room to rest in his fingers. “The mind brings forth great things. When you come to my office from now on, do not bring a wand beyond the staircase, it will do you no good.”

“But…” Harry's heart was fluttering.

Dumbledore only looked at them curiously, waiting.

“Don't you see, Harry?” Hermione sounded in awe, “Wandless magic!”

“Wicked!” Ron exclaimed.

“Professor, do you really think I can…” Harry started.

“I do not think things that are not possible, Harry, and I do not believe in that which is unbelievable.” He chuckled a bit, “Except for magic.” Dumbledore rose from his seat, “You will each have your lessons on Monday nights. This should not interfere with Quidditch or any other activities and as you will all study your respective subjects at the same time, you will be able to congregate and gossip about how silly your teachers are afterward.”

“Professor?” Harry said quietly, “Do you know where he is?”

“No, Harry. The Order keeps an ever watchful eye out and ear open, but things are strangely quiet just now, which only serves to tell me just how crucial these lessons are. But you need not worry yourselves on that just now.”

The three friends nodded, knowing Dumbledore was done and were about to stand when Harry spoke again, “You didn't say who would be teaching me, Professor.”

Dumbledore motioned the door open with his fingers, “I will.”

Harry smiled brightly.

“Now off you go. And, oh,” the headmaster caught their attention with a secretive smile, “Do not neglect my army.”

***

“Blimey! I can't believe you're gonna practice wandless magic, Harry!” Ron exclaimed as the three of them walked back toward the common room. “With Albus Dumbledore!”

“What about Hermione being an animagus?” Harry smiled. Hermione had barely said a word since Dumbledore told her what her lessons would be. “Or your patronus!”

“Bet she'll turn into a blast ended skrewt!”

“Shut up, Ron!” Hermione hugged her books tightly, obviously not in a joking mood, and walked ahead of the boys.

“What's with her?”

“I dunno,” Harry shrugged, wanting to know himself.

“Mental, that one. Properly.”

“She's probably just tired. You know how she gets about her marks.”

“But we've barely had time for any marks yet!” Ron was incredulous.

“It's Hermione.”

“Right on that, mate.” He shook his head as they came upon the Fat Lady.

“Spellotape!” Harry shouted at the Fat Lady at least three times before the portrait swung open to reveal the Gryfinndor common room.

A good number of students had returned from their classes and were milling about in various places, some playing exploding snap or wizard's chess, others reading and studying while yet another group seemed involved in their own conversations. Mainly girls like Lavendar and Parvati who sat giggling in corners.

Hermione was nowhere to be seen and Harry assumed she had gone up to the girls' dormitory so he accepted Ron's challenge for a game of chess before dinner. As usual, Ron won, leaving Harry feeling quite inadequate about his chess skills, but laughing heartily at Ron as he pranced about the room claiming his victory.

“Come on, Harry!” Ron shouted a few minutes later from the portrait hole. “I'm starving!”

“You're always hungry, Ron.” Harry joined him and the other boys and started out for the Great Hall. “Blast! I forgot my wand! Go on, I'll catch up.”

“What's he need his wand to eat for?” Harry heard Seamus ask.

Knowing Ron couldn't say `Oh, because Dumbledore told the three of us to always be on guard, you know, in case Voldemort shows up,' he instead heard “He's been a bit off today. Losing a game of chess will do that to you.”

Harry rolled his eyes, muttered “Spellotape,” and stepped into the common room. He'd gone all the way up to his room, grabbed his wand and was almost to the portrait hole again before he stopped. He'd never seen Hermione look this way. All of her books were open on the table before her, but she was staring straight ahead in a complete daze.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked from behind the sofa.

“Harry! You scared the wits out of me!” She jumped and turned quickly to see him standing there. “You shouldn't do that to people who have a tendency to reach fast for their wands.”

“You don't look like you're reaching for much of anything just now.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood and walked around, taking a seat in the chair beside her.

“Just when I thought the day couldn't get worse, you turn into Ron.” She said sarcastically.

Harry ignored her. “Hermione, please tell me this isn't about being an animagus.”

“Well of course it is.” She didn't look at him.

“How did I know?”

“You must be a genius.” She said shortly.

“Ah. You see, you're forgetting. That fighty thing doesn't work on me. I'm not Ron.”

“I suppose I just assumed. All I felt was an enormous pain in my -”

“Hermione.” He cut her off.

“I'm sorry. I don't mean to snap.” She sighed, “What if I can't do it? Dumbledore wants me to become an animagus because he knows it will help you somehow. What if I can't help?” The words came out so fast they stumbled over one other.

“Even if you couldn't master this, which you will, I'm sure you'd find some other annoying way to be helpful even when no one has asked you to be.”

“Some would call that loyal.”

“And some would call it beyond what you have to do.”

“I don't see it that way.”

“Well,” He laid a hand on top of hers, “I didn't really expect you to.” Their fingers lazily spread and unnoticeably intertwined before Harry pulled his away to point teasingly, “Now please stop worrying about something you haven't even started doing yet!”

“I'll try.”

“Good. Now I'm going to eat. Want to come?”

“No.”

“Hermione.”

“I'm fine. Honest.”

Harry didn't quite believe her and as he left, Hermione wondered, for the first time, if his hand was burning like hers.