Circle's Close

Chapter Eleven: Christmas at the Burrow

***

Harry's thoughts trailed off to his godfather, who would be arriving within the next hour or so. His stomach tightened with guilt. Sirius Black did not know that Harry had been keeping Draco Malfoy hidden in their home. And personally, Harry had no idea how his godfather really would react. He did, however, assume that Sirius would be extremely disappointed in him, and he feared more than anything that he would lose his godfather's trust, as it meant every thing to him.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom, re-entering Harry's room, her hair in dripping wet, tight curls. She busied herself with getting dressed while Harry quickly took his own shower, waves of nervous guilt washing over him as he did so, still thinking of Sirius' reaction.

When Harry got dressed, he and Hermione made their way to Draco's room, finding him rummaging through his trunk, seemingly looking for clothes to wear.

"Sirius is going to be here around ten," Harry told him, as he and Hermione sat comfortably on the bed.

"Right," answered Draco, looking up from his trunk with a faint smile on his face.

"Don't worry, though," Hermione jumped in quickly, "once Harry speaks with Sirius, it'll be OK. Just for now…"

"Stay in my room, and be a good boy," Draco finished for her.

Hermione's jaw snapped shut, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's OK, guys. I don't mind. Ginny keeps saying that good things are worth waiting for. Patience was never my virtue--but I'm starting to believe her," Draco admitted.

Harry smiled in reply, thankful for Draco's acceptance, even if it was just for show. Later on that night, every thing would be out in the open, and Harry couldn't wait until everything was just so much...simpler.

Harry also had to marvel at how comfortable the three of them felt around each other. After Draco's apology to Hermione, things had changed drastically for all of them, and Harry found that there were things about Draco that he actually found admirable, even enjoyable. He couldn't believe that he and Draco had lived in total hatred of each other over six whole years. Hermione also had confessed to Harry that she could see what Ginny saw in him.

"Expect Ginny over around lunch time," Harry said to Draco. "She plans to skip out after we open presents."

Draco smiled appreciatively. "Thanks. At least I don't have to wait until dinner to see her."

"Oh, yeah," Hermione piped up. "I'll pre-make your dinner and you and Ginny can eat upstairs, here. All you'll have to do is heat it up. OK?"

Harry thought it would be impossible for Draco to look even more appreciative than he already was, but Draco proved him wrong by giving Hermione a look of deep, utter respect.

"You don't have to do that, Hermione," he objected.

"Don't be silly!" exclaimed Hermione, smiling her own sweet smile. "It's absolutely no problem. Besides..." Hermione looked sidelong at Harry.

Reading her thoughts, Harry finished the sentence for her.

"We know exactly what it's like having to keep a relationship a secret. We had to; last year. For most of the school year. We didn't really have anyone to help us through it. Eventually there'll come a day when you will be able to 'come out', but until then, Hermione and I are here for you."

"And you won't have to worry about Remus and Sirius. They'll keep this to themselves. As it turns out, last year Sirius knew all about Harry and me, and never said a word. We know we can trust them," Hermione added.

Draco's already pale face seemed to lose whatever color it held.

"Remus? As in Remus Lupin? He's coming too?" he asked in a choked voice.

"Oh," Harry said, realizing he had forgotten to tell Draco about their last-minute addition. "Something came up. I had to contact Remus, and he'll be arriving in time for dinner. Though he'll be eating dinner with us at the Weasleys, he will be spending the remaining holidays with us...here," Harry explained.

Draco gulped audibly.

"It's just that...he hated me...Lupin. Both he and Sirius hate me..."

"We've told you not to worry about that," Hermione insisted. "I have extreme faith that they'll accept you. They have to...if for no other reason than the fact that they both care for Harry, and respect him."

Draco seemed visibly relieved to hear this. He nodded, staying silent.

Harry took this opportunity to get his day going, and stood up, Hermione following suit.

"I'll bring you up your breakfast, Draco. Just take it easy up here. Enjoy the peace while it lasts," she told him with a wink and exited the room.

Harry followed her, then stuck his head back in the door.

"Hey," he said to Draco, whose head was bent into his trunk still. He looked up.

"Merry Christmas...in spite of the conditions," Harry greeted him with a grin.

Draco grinned back. "Same to you, Harry."

*

"There," sighed Hermione, looking at the clock on the mantle over the fireplace. It was just a few minutes before ten am, and Hermione had just delivered Draco his Christmas morning breakfast. Harry and Hermione had a few minutes to spare, and they spent this time tidying the house, and making sure that the Christmas tree looked immaculate with piles and piles of presents underneath.

During their first week of holidays, Hermione, Harry and Draco had kept themselves busy by decorating the entire house full of Christmas decorations. Harry had been startled when Draco had revealed that he had never decorated a Christmas Tree in his entire life, and that the Malfoy Manor had never seen a Christmas decoration since Draco could remember. The idea of such an absurdity made him laugh with mild bitterness, and Harry had given him an apologetic smile.

It was then that Harry realized that this was a Christmas that not only he would remember until the day he died, but it would be memorable for both Sirius and Draco as well, even if Draco was forced to stay in his room mostly during the day. Night seemed to be the only safe time for him to exit his bedroom, and night was when Ginny found herself at Harry's house, with or without her parents' permission.

Harry could hear a car pulling into the driveway, and he and Hermione rushed to the front door, yanking it open to reveal Sirius Black exiting his car, looking strained. But once he saw them at the doorway, rushing out to help him with his bundles and trunk, his handsome face split into a wide grin, and he waved enthusiastically.

"Merry Christmas, Sirius!" exclaimed Hermione, who was the first to reach him and wrap him into a welcoming hug, which he returned in abundance.

"Same to you, same to you," he exclaimed jovially, as Harry reached them both and included himself in the hug.

Together, with their hands full of packages and bundles, they walked into the warm, inviting house, and Harry heard Sirius in front of him give a satisfied sigh.

"It's so good to be home," he said.

"It's good to have you home," Harry said truthfully, dropping the packages under the brightly decorated tree, and he motioned for Hermione to do the same. He chose to ignore the bout of guilt he felt again, concentrating completely on his godfather.

"How was work, then? Since you found it so necessary to keep working during the holidays," Harry said, with a tinge of bitterness.

Sirius turned to him after surveying the house with a quick glance. His expression was not one of annoyance, but one of apology.

"Sorry," Harry quickly apologized, before Sirius could. "I just...missed you. Having you around all the time...and then suddenly not having you...I just get paranoid sometimes."

It felt much easier to speak his mind, now that the spoken situation had passed. He felt silly expressing his concern, but he would have felt a lot sillier had he said these things a week ago.

Sirius smiled, his light eyes shining with appreciation.

"I missed you, too. Both of you," he added to Hermione, who smiled in return. "And to answer your question, my work isn't done."

Harry's eyes widened, flashing with brief anger. "They're still making you work?!" he exclaimed incredulously.

"They're not making me. I'm doing a special favor for Dumbledore," said Sirius. "I have enough time to sit with you for a couple of hours, then I have to do this one last thing. I'll be gone just for a couple of hours."

After a moment, Harry realized that his mouth was hanging wide open, his green eyes flashing with anger. Hermione sensed his frustration, moving to him and placing a delicate hand on his upper arm. She squeezed gently, peering into his face with a look of calm serenity.

"Hey," she said, jarring him out of his angry stupor. "It's OK. If this is what Sirius has to do..." She looked back at Sirius, who was watching Harry closely.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I know this means a lot to you. But it's just this one last thing, and I swear, once it's finished, I won't lift a finger for the rest of the holidays." Sirius' eyes shone with sincere apology that didn't go unnoticed by Harry.

"Yeah," Harry finally said, thinking of Draco Malfoy upstairs, the guilt on his own shoulders and deciding that being a hypocrite wasn't exactly a Harry Potter thing to do. He forced a smile on his face. "I understand."

Sirius smiled and sighed with relief, and they all sat down in the living room, in front of the fire and the Christmas Tree.

"It looks wonderful," Sirius told them while looking at the colorful tree, as they explained what they had been up to all week.

Hermione continued to talk with Sirius while Harry's thoughts drifted, glancing at the framed photos on the mantle that hung over the fireplace.

During the first week while Draco and Harry had been decorating the living room (at which point Hermione had been in the kitchen cooking), Draco had lifted one of the photos from the mantle into his hand and had stared at it for what seemed a very long time. Then he had looked at Harry with the oddest expression on his face.

"Your parents?" he asked.

Harry nodded, and realized that even though Draco had known all about his parents' death, he had never known what they had looked like.

"You have your mum's eyes," Draco said, with a trace of a smile on his face.

"So everyone tells me," Harry replied, surprised that he didn't feel the least bit threatened by this supposed violation.

"You're tall like your dad, though. Got his hair, too," Draco remarked. He looked up at Harry from the framed photo of Lily and James Potter who were holding Baby Harry.

Harry smiled back. "I've been told that I look exactly like my father," he said.

Draco nodded in agreement, smiling again. "Isn't it funny how for some people, looking like their fathers makes them proud, even happy? And for others...they consider it a curse?"

Harry looked at him in surprise. But before he could say anything Draco was speaking again.

"For what it's worth, Harry," and he gave a small laugh through his nose, "and I very much doubt it's worth anything at all, but I thought I'd give it a shot anyway..."

Harry stared at him, waiting.

Draco looked back down at the photo. "I'm sorry," he said shortly.

Harry didn't know what exactly the apology was for. Was it for his parents' death? Or the fact that Draco Malfoy had tormented him for six years about it? Or perhaps because his own father had been involved with the one who actually killed his parents? Then again, maybe he was apologizing for all three, so Harry nodded briefly.

"Thank you."

"--dreaming again."

Harry sat up, startled out of his memory.

"Sorry?" he asked, looking at both Hermione and Sirius who were looking at him with humorous eyes.

"You weren't paying attention, were you," said Hermione. "Dreaming again?"

Harry smiled guiltily. "Sorry," he apologized again. "I'm a little tired...didn't get much sleep last night."

Sirius cleared his throat. "Is that so?" he said, quirking a brow.

Hermione stood up suddenly, and declared that she was going to finish up making their breakfast. Harry laughed, catching the redness in her face as she sped off through the living room.

They ate breakfast and chatted until just before noon, when Sirius announced that he had to leave, and would see them in a couple of hours. Which meant that Harry was free to go upstairs, inform Draco that he and Hermione would be going to the Burrow, and assured him that Ginny would arrive around noon.

*

"This one is from both Leah and myself," Ron said to Hermione, holding out a large bundle to her.

Hermione accepted the Christmas gift, nearly dropping it from its weight.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly, looking more bashful than Harry could ever remember her looking.

She delicately removed the red and green wrappings as a large, hard-cover book fell out.

"Muggle-born Witches and Their Contribution to the Magical World," Hermione read, her mouth dropping in awe. She looked up at Ron and Leah, positively beaming.

"Mum and Dad helped us find it. It's old, it hasn't been updated in years," Ron explained, looking slightly embarrassed.

"But chances are when they put out a new edition, they'll have a whole chapter on you," Mr Weasley added, making everyone laugh, including Hermione.

"I love it! Oh thanks, you guys!" And Hermione threw her arms first around Ron, then around Leah, thanking them profusely.

"Well, I think that leaves just one more," said Charlie, standing up. "We wanted to save this for last, Ron," and he exited the living room, all of the other eight Weasleys, Leah, Harry and Hermione waiting for him to return, with Ron looking extremely puzzled and amazed at the same time.

Charlie returned with a long, thin package and handed it to Ron, before taking his seat next to Percy.

Everyone seemed to be bubbling with a quiet excitement, Ron staring at the package in utter shock. It wasn't exactly difficult to figure out what the gift was by looking at it.

"Open it!" hissed Fred impatiently, smiling with everyone else.

Ron shook himself out of his stupor, tore off the deep blue wrapping paper and revealed the present within.

"Oh, wow..."he gushed, his mouth dropping open, finding that he couldn't keep it closed.

It was, of course, a broom. Perfectly polished, well kept and beautiful to every last detail. The handle read: "Nimbus 3000".

"Wow!" he exclaimed again. He knew that the Nimbus 3000 wasn't the best, as the Firebolt would exceed any of the Nimbus series, but he also knew that it was extremely expensive, and considered a first-rate broom.

"We all chipped in," Bill said, nodding to each Weasley.

"You deserve one, honey," said Mrs Weasley. "We know it's not the best, but--"

"It is the best, Mum. This is incredible!" Ron said, breathing heavily with excitement.

"One thing's for sure-- Malfoy certainly doesn't have a broom as good as this," George said with some satisfaction.

Harry shot a glance at Ginny, who was staring at her own feet, afraid that the expression on her face would reveal what she was keeping from her whole family. Looking beside him, he could see Hermione doing the same.

The Weasleys laughed at George's statement.

"Just wait until we get back to Hogwarts, eh, Harry?" said Ron, a triumphant gleam in his bright blue eyes. "I can't wait to see the expression on Malfoy's face."

Harry gave the Weasleys a fake smile, guilt hitting him in the form of nausea. He hoped the Weasleys hadn't noticed his face flushing red.

Hermione gave a high, false cough, while Ron, Leah and the others continued to ogle at the broom.

"Mr Weasley?" she said, catching the older man's attention.

As if speaking in a silent, understood language, Mr Weasley jumped to his feet, nodding enthusiastically before exiting the room.

Harry's eyes narrowed in confusion, and Hermione explained to him what Mr Weasley was getting for her.

After having disappeared for a moment or two, Mr Weasley returned with Hermione's request and handed her a stack of newspapers before taking his seat next to his wife.

"What's that, Hermione?" asked Ron, just barely taking his eyes off of his broom.

"The Daily Prophet, a week's worth," Hermione said shortly, glancing at the top issue with a mad gleam of excitement in her eyes.

"Why would you care about week-old news?" asked Ron, looking aghast.

"Like I've told you time and time again, Ron. It's always good to keep up with the wizarding world," said Hermione without looking up.

"Hey? Where's Ginny gotten to?" asked Leah, looking around the living room, which was now cleared of most of the Weasleys.

Harry and Hermione glanced quickly at each other, and Harry shrugged at Leah, hoping he looked clueless.

"Maybe she went for a walk," he suggested. And he breathed a silent sigh of relief at the fact that no one found this suspicious.

"Well, I'm going to use her room to read up on the news in peace. If you need me, you know where to find me," said Hermione, and with her head still bent over the papers, she marched up the many staircases to Ginny's room.

"Leah!"

Harry and Ron jumped. Charlie, who had left a few moments beforehand, had just re-entered the room, his Nimbus 2000 draped over his shoulder.

"Oh, right!" Leah exclaimed. She looked at Ron anxiously.

"Do you think it'd be OK if I used your broom, Ron? I left mine at Hogwarts..."

"'Course," said Ron, looking at his brother curiously. "What's going on then? You gonna teach her your moves?" he asked, grinning.

"Just giving her a few pointers. Though I doubt she'll need any. This is just for fun anyway," he added.

"You don't mind, right?" asked Leah, kneeling down in front of Ron, her dark hair shining from the light that seeped through the curtains. Her big brown eyes twinkled with amusement, her dark red lips spread in a warm smile.

"Course not," Ron said again, and blushed furiously as Leah gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"See you later, then!" and she bolted after Charlie with Ron's new Nimbus thrown over her shoulder.

"Come on," said Harry, standing up himself. "Let's get some fresh air."

Together they walked through the kitchen and through the back door, stepping out onto the snow covered ground dressed in their new jumpers.

"Things are OK with you and Leah?" asked Harry.

Harry couldn't tell whether Ron's face was red from the cold, or from actual embarrassment, but he nodded all the same.

"Good," said Harry, fighting off a smile. They shuffled around the yard, talking about Quidditch. When ten minutes passed, Ron smacked his hand to his forehead.

"Oh, right! I wanted to hear the score on the National Teams," he said and hurried over to the kitchen window which was open ajar to let out the heat that the stove was emitting. "I hope I didn't miss it," Ron added as they approached the window.

The radio was tuned to WWN, Wizarding Wireless Network, but what Harry heard being announced had nothing to do with Quidditch whatsoever.

The newscaster for WWN spoke in a clear voice, "-- still no comment from the Ministry of Magic on the destruction of the Hanging Tree in the village of Ottery St. Catchpole."

Harry and Ron, exchanging extremely puzzled and curious looks, stepped forward to listen better.

"This ancient tree was witness to abominable acts of violence against witches and wizards, many of whom vowed everlasting curses against--"

The newscaster was cut short as the radio was turned off abruptly. Harry and Ron could hear Percy talking to his parents in a heated sort of way.

"You know the kids aren't supposed to know--"

"Kids?" whispered Ron indignantly, glaring. Harry shushed him, and nodded for them to continue listening.

"We know, Percy. We already talked with Sirius about this. The last thing we want is for their vacation to be ruined," came Mrs Weasley's voice, which was slightly higher than usual. Their voices began to fade, and Harry knew that the older Weasleys were taking the conversation elsewhere.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, a deep feeling of foreboding arousing his nerves. Ron grabbed Harry's arm in sudden inspiration.

"Hermione!" he said.

"What about her?" asked Harry.

"She's reading up on the Daily Prophets. Maybe they'll have something about what we just heard in there?"

"It's worth a shot," Harry agreed, as they entered the house.

The two of them hurriedly made their way to Ginny's room and found Hermione sprawled on her stomach on Ginny's bed, reading the most recent Daily Prophet article. The other articles were strewn all over the bed, some scattered on the floor.

They told her about what they heard on the radio, and Hermione, as though a switch in her brain had been flicked on, sat up instantly, and they all searched through the tossed about papers.

"Here!" said Hermione, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet at them. Harry and Ron sat down on the bed next to her, and listened as she read:

"Monday, December 22, 1997.

The Muggle village of Ottery St. Catchpole was the scene last night of an incident that has caused ripples throughout the Magical Community.

Shortly after 8:00 p.m., a freak bolt of lightning struck and destroyed the infamous Hanging Tree in the town square. A remnant of an earlier, less civilized age, it has been shunned and all but forgotten by respectable witches and wizards for generations. In times of past, countless victims, both wizard and Muggle, met a horrible end at the hands of hysterical mobs via this barbaric instrument of death.

Many are openly celebrating its destruction, eager to wipe out the dark stains of the past and embrace the fast-approaching 21st century with a clean parchment. Others, however, consider its sudden and violent end an ill omen.

"It was evil to the core," said an old wizard who declined to be named. "Full of Dark Magic, it was. And where's it all gone, then?"

Many are voicing this same question in more concrete form, in letters owled to the Ministry of Magic. Percy Weasley, speaking on behalf of Minister Cornelius Fudge, promises an investigation after the holidays. But the Ministry's official position remains one of unconcern."

"So that's it then," said Harry, as Hermione finished reading, and lowered the paper. "The Hanging Tree."

Hermione handed him the article at his request and he looked at the photo below the article. A large, charred stump was the focus of the picture, while wizards and Muggles moved past it, some puzzled enough to stop and take a look at the destroyed tree. Over the stump, in the background, Harry could clearly see the Clock Tower in the distance.

Hermione frowned, pondering the article that was still clutched in her fist. "There's something odd about this," she said softly, almost speaking to herself.

"What is it?" asked Ron.

Hermione looked up at them both. "I'm not sure. That's just it. But there's something about it..."

Puzzled, but trying to sound reassuring, Harry said, "you'll figure it out. Whatever it is."

In spite of Sirius' warning to stay out of trouble, and in spite of Ron's parents wanting to protect them all, Harry felt that this new situation was more than just a tree being destroyed, and knew that there was more to the Hanging Tree than what most people thought.

Is this what my vision was about, he wondered.

He had told both Hermione and Ron about Trelawney's latest prediction from a month ago, but he didn't have the heart to worry them with his concerns about the article until there was something to worry about. He wanted to be sure before he said anything.

"I want to go into town and check this out," he told them, his mind set in determination. Ron and Hermione both knew that even if they tried to reason with him, their efforts would be futile. Hermione nodded.

"Dad'll let us borrow the car," said Ron, though the corner of his mouth tugged upwards. "We just won't tell him we're going into town. He'll know instantly why we'd be going there," he said.

"I'll drive then," offered Hermione. "I'm not taking any chances with you guys getting behind the wheel. That's just what we need; to hit a tree on Christmas Day."

"You're never going to let us live it down, eh, Hermione?" Ron said indignantly. "It was five years ago!"

Hermoine rolled her eyes, smiling, and led the boys out of Ginny's room.

To Be Continued...