Full Circle

Chapter 6 - Life Without Harry

The reflection of the early morning sun on the newly fallen blanket of snow cast a sharp light onto the walls of the History of Magic classroom. It was this illumination that awoke Draco Malfoy from his dreamless sleep; his eyes forcing themselves open, dry and burning from having cried the night before. Immediately he was confused about his location, accustomed to waking up in the darkness of the Slytherin dorms. He moved slightly in an effort to sit up, but the sharp pains resounding through his body compelled him to remain still. Once his eyes had adjusted to the light, he became aware of the lap that had served as his pillow during the night. Ginny, who had fallen asleep against the legs of a desk, was unaware that it was morning and that Malfoy had woken up.

He looked up at her from his awkward position and immediately felt the color of embarrassment rise to his cheeks. Was there any way he could get out of this situation without waking her up? He dared to move again, but his body protested. Damn it! He cursed in his head. I deserve this for affiliating myself with a Weasley. But as he watched Ginny sleep, he felt a slight twang within his chest. This girl had watched his father put the Cruciatus curse on him and then proceeded to comfort him as he quietly sobbed himself to sleep. There were not many people who would do such a thing for him, particularly not a Gryffindor student and a member of the Weasley family. In fact, besides his mother, he could think of no one else.

Just then her eyes opened and gazed around the room as she absorbed the unexpected surroundings.

"Felling better?" she asked with a faint smile when her attention fell on Malfoy.

"No, I feel like shit," he muttered.

"Oh," she replied, somewhat taken aback by his response.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Malfoy knew he had to get out of here. He slowly tried to slide his hands beneath him in an effort to push himself up from the wooden floor, but doing so made him flinch in agony.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked.

"Trying to avoid being caught in this classroom with you. Our little midnight meeting has caused me enough problems."

With this, Ginny propped up his head (with little regard to how painful it might have been) and slid her body out from underneath him before dropping his head once again. He was thankful that it had been his non-injured ear that hit the ground. She stood up and dusted herself off angrily.

"You are an ungrateful prat!" She scowled at him.

With a firm grip on the desk behind him, Malfoy was finally able to pull himself up into a sitting position. "How am I ungrateful? I never asked you to stay here with me last night. In fact you were only coming back here to cuss me out, if I remember you correctly. Now why on earth should I be appreciative of that?"

Ginny grumbled to herself, wondering why she kept assuming that Malfoy would ever change. What made her think that he was perhaps human deep down beneath his crude exterior? She watched him climb onto the chair, his face contorted by the hurt she could only imagine he was feeling. It was obvious his body was still very weak and was probably covered with purplish bruises hidden under his Hogwarts robes.

"Well, regardless of your opinion of this situation, Mr. Malfoy..." she made sure to catch his eyes when she said these words "...I know I did the right thing. Despite how invincible you seem to think you are, you needed someone to be with you last night. It's just a pity you think so poorly of my help." When she was finished, Malfoy averted his gaze and said nothing. Ginny's robes swirled as she turned and once again walked out of the classroom. Malfoy sat and rested; he knew it would take all the strength he could muster to walk himself down to the Slytherin dungeons.

"I can't believe this snowstorm! We have no choice but to cancel practice for this morning." Ron was standing by the tall windows in the Gryffindor common room completely decked out in his Quidditch uniform. It had not occurred to him to check the weather before getting dressed this morning.

"You're kidding!" replied Lavender Brown, looking somewhat out of place wearing her own uniform. "Our next match is against Ravenclaw and I really need the practice." The expression on her face was of honest dismay. Gryffindor had only played one match this season and they had been fortunate that it had been against Hufflepuff. The whole team had been nervous, despite the fact that in previous years - when Harry had been seeker - a game against Hufflepuff would hardly be cause for alarm. They had beaten them, but just barely, and Lavender was painfully aware of that fact.

In the nights before the match, she secretly prayed that Harry would return to school to takeover his position as seeker. As much as she was honored at having been chosen, Lavender was still anxious. Her teammates had faith in her ability, yet it was difficult to follow in the footsteps of the famous Harry Potter. She watched their captain pace back and forth in a distracted manner, sensing that he was formulating plans in his head. He, too, was worried about the fate of the team.

Both of their heads jerked up when Ginny burst into the main room of the Gryffindor house, but she didn't even notice the two of them as she stormed through on the way to her dorm.

"Hey, Gin, where's the fire?" Her brother called out, not even questioning why she was entering the tower at eight o'clock in the morning. The only response was the sound of the door slamming at the top of the stairs.

Ron sighed to himself. "Between Ginny and Hermione, I don't know what to think about girls recently. They can be so....emotional."

Lavender cleared her throat loudly and he turned to fully acknowledge her. "You know what I mean. They are two of my best friends (yes, even though Ginny is my little sister), but I'm just not used to dealing with their feminine drama without Harry to balance the situation out." Suddenly appearing crestfallen, Ron withdrew and faced the window again.

"You really miss him, don't you?" She asked, walking over to him. He continued to survey the snow covered grounds of Hogwarts.

"Yes and no. We've been best friends for six years. He's like a brother to me (not that I need any more brothers). And the fact that I haven't heard a single word from him in over four months is starting to worry me." Ron quickly checked the room to see if anyone else had come down. Lowering his voice, he continued "But in a way, I kind of enjoy the time alone. Does that sound as bad as it seems?"

Lavender was confused as to how she should respond to his confession. "Well, what makes you feel that way?"

"Eh, it's probably nothing," he grumbled to himself as he moved to sit down on the plush red sofa. "At least Hermione and Ginny think I'm just overreacting."

"Well, I am neither of them, in case you have forgotten," she retorted.

Ron sensed her edginess and motioned for her to sit beside him. "I haven't forgotten, Lavender. It just...complicated." He reached for his broom (a now somewhat outdated Nimbus 2000 Fred and George had bought for him three years back) and rubbed his hand against the smooth wooden handle. "Why can't anyone seem to understand that I'm tired of always being Harry's friend?"

Lavender raised her eyebrows in bewilderment. "I thought you liked being friends with Harry."

"Of course, I like being friends with Harry!" He sighed, gripping the broom tightly. "It's just sometimes I don't like being Harry's friend. It's almost like that is all there is to me! Am I so inconsequential that I don't deserve an identity outside of being his sidekick?"

"Inconsequential?" She grinned.

"Damn Hermione and all her studying for the N.E.W.T.'s, it's starting to wear off on me!" His rebuttal struck Lavender as humorous, but she quickly hid her amusement so as not to aggravate him further. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I can understand why you might feel that way, but there's really no need to be this angry."

He pulled away from her touch. "First of all, how can you possibly understand how I feel and second of all, who are you to tell me I don't have a right to be angry?"

For a few moments, she just silently watched him before speaking. "It's because you feel there is nothing special about you. And if you constantly compare yourself to Harry, you'll always feel mediocre. Harry is, and always will be a celebrity in the wizarding world. First he almost destroyed You-Know-Who as a baby. Then he comes to Hogwarts and becomes the youngest Quidditch player in over a century. Later he is the youngest person ever to compete for the Goblet of Fire and eventually beats all of his competitors. Toss in a few more meetings with You-Know-Who..." Ron looked at her suspiciously. "Come on, Ron. You don't honestly think the other house members aren't aware of what goes on, do you?" He shrugged half-heartedly as she continued. "The important thing you need to realize is that Harry doesn't ask for all this. I'm sure he'd rather have your normal life any day of the week. Being famous can be a real hassle sometimes."

"What could possible be bad about fame?" Ron asked sourly.

"Are you blind? You've forgotten second year when everyone accused Harry of being the Heir of Slytherin. And what about when the school turned against him when they thought he cheated to enter the Triwizard Tournament? There have been times when Harry has been very unpopular here at Hogwarts, Ron."

He sulked angrily and said nothing. None of this information was new to him: Hermione had said the same things a dozen times before.

"But the reason you take this harder than other people is because you are convinced you have no special qualities yourself. Hermione is not affected by Harry because she has accepted her talent. The girl's got brains and the whole school knows it. Ginny, too, is not bothered because she has embraced her own musical gift. Between playing the piano and singing..."

Ron had never heard Lavender talk about his friends like that before. "I didn't even think you liked Hermione or Ginny."

"Well, I don't not like them. Just because we're not really friends, doesn't make us enemies. It's true that Hermione was a little geeky when I first met her - that nose of hers always in a book, but over time she's turned out to be pretty nice. The reason why I've never hung out with them is because they always spent all their time with you and Harry. For the first four years at Hogwarts, the three of you were inseparable and none of you gave Parvati and me the time of day. Add Ginny in the mix during fifth year and there you have it. You guys are practically a secret club that is not very eager to hand out invitations."

Ron stared at Lavender as if she had just turned into a tea kettle with a tail. "You think we're unapproachable? You and Parvati used to be attached by the hip!"

"What was I supposed to do? We were new at Hogwarts and didn't know anyone. Parvati and I were roommates and we just happened to click immediately. We enjoyed all the things normal eleven year old girls like to do. It's not our fault Hermione would rather be friends with boys than giggle at them from a distance." Suddenly Lavender's face grew pink. "Looking back, perhaps we were kind of dumb. But then again, isn't everyone a little insecure at that age?"

Now it was Ron who was blushing. "Yeah, well I guess I'm still kind of insecure -but look what I have to compete with? My best friends all have amazing talents!"

"Oh and being the school wizard chess champion means nothing? It is your ability to develop strategy that helped you become our current Quidditch captain!"

"But Charlie and Harry have done that before me. It's nothing that I can claim all by myself."

Lavender was approaching the end of her rope. "Well, how do you think I feel? Here's a girl who has never been good at anything, never been taken seriously and now I have to live up to Harry's reputation as seeker!"

Ron felt like a frog had jumped down his throat. "I guess I never looked at it that way." He glanced down at her with empathy. "But then again I don't see you as someone without talent." Desperately, he fumbled for the right words. "You are probably the best seer at Hogwarts. No one has been able to make predictions as accurately as yours - not even Professor Trelawney on a good day."

Again Lavender felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but shrugged it off. "But who cares about things like divination? People like Hermione think it's the most made-up magical skill a witch or wizard could possess!"

"She's only mad because it's the one subject she can't improve by just studying harder," Ron laughed.

Lavender continued. "Then there's also the issue of being best friends with the prettiest girl in our year - well, tied with her twin sister, of course."

Suddenly Ron was reminded of the Yule Ball during fourth year. At the age of fourteen, Harry and he were too naïve to realize how lucky they were to have Parvati and Padma Patil as dates! They had spent to whole evening fawning over Cho and Hermione, Ron sighed to himself. And to think that was three years ago. The Patil twins were exponentially more attractive now at the age of seventeen.

"She's smart, beautiful and has an exotic mystery that guys cant resist," she insisted. "And then there's me - plain, boring Lavender Brown."

Ron sat back to examine what could possibly be wrong with Lavender's appearance. Her light hair was pulled back neatly into a ponytail to keep it out of the way during practice; normally it fell into soft curls on her shoulders. Her eyelashes were pale and eyes were green - no...more hazel - almost moss colored with specks of gold around the edges that now looked at Ron inquisitively. Her nose was small, almost perky with a faint dusting of freckles across her cheeks. Between her smooth moist lips were two rows of tiny white teeth which was a near heavenly combination when she smiled.

"What are you doing?" she questioned.

"Noticing what everyone else must be missing," he replied, softly.

Simultaneously they heard two sets of voices rising from opposite directions in the common room. From the dormitory stairwell, there was Sam Watson and Edward Bell frantically debating how angry Ron would be because they were almost twenty minutes late for practice. Entering through the portrait of the Fat Lady, they heard Tina ask her fellow chasers Dean and Antoinette what could possibly be taking everyone so long. The entire team looked surprised when the three groups met by accident in the middle.

"What is going on here?" asked Dean. "Practice was supposed to start at 8am."

"Yeah, we were wondering what you guys were waiting for," said Tina.

Ron looked utterly confused. "What do you mean practice started at 8? I'm the captain and I was planning to cancel it because of the snowstorm that happened last night that you guys apparently missed."

"Well, we didn't just spend the last hour helping Madame Hooch melt all the snow off the Quidditch Field for nothing," replied Antoinette with her hands on her hips.

"Really? That's great!" Lavender jumped up anxiously from the couch and grabbed her broom. "Let's get started. Don't forget our next match is against Ravenclaw and with Lisa Turpin as the new seeker, they are going to be a hard team to beat." The rest of the Gryffindor team agreed and followed her out of the tower and down to the pitch.

From Hermione's bedroom window, the Quidditch team looked like red ants marching across the snow covered ground. She had fallen asleep in the window seat after another solitary late night study session and had only awoken because Crookshanks had jumped into her lap and knocked her textbooks onto the floor with a crash. Startled, Hermione banged her head against the window pane.

"Son of a-" she grumbled under her breath. "Crookshanks, what did you do that for? Can't you see I'm trying to get some sleep?" She stood up and stretched, her body ached from sitting hunched over all night.

"You might want to try cucumbers for those dark circles under your eyes," was the advice the mirror offered. Hermione was tempted to respond with a rude gesture in irritation, but once she glanced at her reflection, she almost couldn't help but to agree with it. The last few weeks have been rough - after spending most of the semester of skipping meals and hiding in her bedroom for fear of being caught in a bought of nausea, Hermione sensed some people were getting suspicious of her behavior. Since then was determined to regain her usual status at Hogwarts. She insisted on being present at the Gryffindor dining table three times a day, resumed with diligence her role as Head Girl, and succeeded to answer questions in class at every opportunity (much to the dismay of Professor Snape who had savored Hermione's quietness). She even managed to be more social - attending the Quidditch matches and trips to Hogsmeade - all in the effort to create the image that nothing was out of the ordinary. But it was the strength required to maintain this façade that was slowly wearing her out.

Hermione turned away from the mirror and slowly removed her school uniform which she had still been wearing from the night before. Her bare toes recoiled from the iciness of the bathroom tile as she hung the fresh red and gold embroidered towel on the back of the door and walked over to the shower stall. With a flick of her wrist she turned on the faucet and stood waiting for the waiting for the water to reach the desired temperature before she stepped inside. The hot clear liquid dripped onto her neck and down her back as she lathered her thick hair with shampoo. Soapy bubbles trickled along her arms and chest, slowly pooling in the valley created by her tender breasts.

After rinsing her tresses, she used a soft washcloth to scrub the rest of her body clean. Starting at her feet, she traced her ankles and lean calves, moved along her strong thighs and hips until hesitating at the slight swelling of her stomach. Her throat tightened and she closed her eyes letting the warm water splash against her face. It was starting to become noticeable now and she wondered how much time it would be before she was unable to hide it from everyone else. How much longer would be able to keep this life inside of her a secret? When would she finally be able to tell him what had happened?

Harry, I'm pregnant. No, that didn't sound right. Harry, I'm going to have a baby. Our baby. No, that wasn't it either. Harry, you're going to be a father. How about saying what she was really feeling?

Oh god, Harry, look what we've done! We've ruined our lives in one single evening. We're only seventeen years old, we're still at Hogwarts. And most importantly - we are not even a couple. We've never been romantically involved! Yet here we are with some terribly real consequence of our actions. I just don't understand. How did this happen?

The water's sudden shift to tepid broke Hermione from her reverie. Quickly she finished washing and rinsed herself off. No sense dawdling any longer in the safety of the shower. Even though it was Saturday, she had tons of things to do today, she told herself. Studying for an Arithmancy exam, a paper for Defense of the Dark Arts, visiting the greenhouse for extra credit in Advanced Herbology, she went over in her head as she dressed in a clean outfit and applied straightening potion to her hair. I should also wrap Christmas presents - a book of rare sheet music for Ginny, a broom polishing kit for Ron, and for Harry...

What Hermione had for Harry was not a gift she wanted to give him. She pulled a thick sweater out of closet and slid it over her head, effectively covering up her impending motherhood. Pulling back the sides of her hair, she finished off her ensemble by tying it with a green ribbon. Without a second thought she grabbed her potions textbook from the pile on the floor and headed down for breakfast.