Full Circle

Chapter 8 - Welcome Back, Potter

Finding his two closest friends snogging in the hallway outside of Gryffindor tower was definitely not the kind of welcome Harry had been anticipating. For months, the young wizard had been confined to Remus Lupin's London flat, waiting patiently for a horrific attack by Voldemort that never came. At first, Harry was content: nervous (of course) about the pending danger, but nonetheless enjoying the time with his father's best friends. But as the days droned on, Harry became more listless, spending unusual amounts of time locked in his bedroom, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Being away from his friends and the first place he ever truly called home was starting to take a toll on Harry's mood. His loneliness combined with a lack of sleep caused him to be rather depressed and temperamental. Concerned, Sirius decided it would be a good thing to take Harry back to Hogwarts.

"I think that because of all the things Harry's managed to accomplish in his young life, we have a tendency to forget that he is just a boy. Cooped up and isolated all day is no way for a teenager to live. It would probably be better if he returned to school," said Sirius, pacing through the living room.

Remus hesitated. "What does Professor McGonagall say?"

"Despite any rumors to the contrary, Hogwarts is very safe. She never really like the idea of us taking him away in the first place, but we felt it was something that needed to be done. Obviously we were wrong..." Sirius paused and turned to face his life long friend. "Tell Harry to pack up his things. I'll owl Professor McGonagall to inform her of our decision. She will probably be very pleased to have him back."

A few hours later the three wizards boarded the Hogwarts Express at King's Crossing, which was coincidentally heading to the school to pick up the majority of students who would be heading home for the holidays the following day. The journey from London to Hogwarts had been a long one due to the inclement weather and was topped off by a slushy trek across the snowy grounds to reach the castle - since the owl had not returned early enough to inform anyone of their arrival. Once inside, Sirius and Lupin headed to the Headmistress's office right away while Harry trudged his weary body up to the tower. He was damp, windblown and cold, but kept warm by thinking about his friends whom he had seen or spoken to in over four months. Harry couldn't wait to ask Ron about the Quidditch team and who was the new replacement seeker. Which house was ahead in the pursuit for the school cup? Was Snape still a cranky bat who assigned too much homework? Was Hermione freaking out about the N.E.W.T's?

Hermione. All day long he had tried to keep busy: studying for the classes he was missing or reading muggle books for leisure. He did anything and everything he could to avoid thinking about her. Unfortunately as time went on, it became harder and harder for him to focus on any but Hermione. When he closed his eyes, she appeared before him - sitting on the garden wall, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, her face washed with moonlight. Her eyes were a warm, chocolate brown as they stared into his own, always an inquiring look - which is ironic since she always seems to know what is on his mind. He touches her face and compelled by the softness of her skin he begins to kiss the nape of her neck. Her robe has become untied and he can see the slight swell of her breasts under her tank top. He shudders, wanting to reach out and...

"Harry!"

His eyes would flutter open and he would still be alone, lying on his bed in the apartment. Sirius stood in the doorway, watching his godson suspiciously.

"Is there something wrong, Harry?" he would ask, but Harry would just shake his head no in reply. There was no way he could tell Sirius what was on his mind. With that response, the older man would just shrug his shoulders and close the bedroom door behind him.

Harry hated himself for these dreams. They were originally only at night, but eventually when a goodnight sleep seemed impossible, he would remember her in the daytime. He would replay scenes in his mind a thousand times - they made him feel so good, but later plagued him with guilt. What would Hermione do if she found out that Harry thought about her in such a way? If she knew how he imagined that her kisses tasted strangely like honey. How he ached to run his fingers through her wavy hair. How he desired to....well...these dreams were amazingly real at times.

It made him blush to think of it as he climbed up the moving staircase, but any lingering romantic thoughts were smacked out of his head at the sight of Ron and Hermione kissing in the hallway. Feeling rather awkward, Harry debated for only a moment before interrupting them with a quick cough. They both whipped around quickly to see who had caught them during their private moment.

"Umm...hey guys. Happy Christmas!"

Once they realization hit them that it was Harry standing there, his two friends leapt away from each like they had been shocked by an electric cattle prod. Looking relieved, Ron rubbed his chin (A goatee? Harry thought) as his face broke into a smile.

"Bloody Hell, Harry! You're back!" He seemed honestly happy to see his best friend, considering the situation. Ron walked forward and embraced Harry, his more than six foot frame somewhat towering over Harry's mere five feet eight.

Patting his back, Harry replied "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to come home." Ron pulled away, but kept his hands gripped firmly on Harry's shoulders.

"Hey buddy - why didn't you bother write us once in awhile? It would have been nice to know what was going on in your life."

"I wasn't really allowed to…" his voice trailed off as he glanced behind Ron to see Hermione, who had not said a word since he had arrived. She stood there frozen like those ice sculptures at the Yule Ball: her appearance was partly as radiant as Harry had imagined, yet her face was ashen with shock and her eyes were swollen red with now dried tears. Ron turned to follow Harry's gaze.

"She's probably just surprised to see you," he whispered as Hermione continued to stand speechless."She hasn't been quite herself recently...incredibly worried about you, Harry." Harry wanted to reach out and touch her – to see if she was as real as she seemed, but he hesitated, internally torn by conflicting emotions. Ron felt equally confused by her actions.

"Hermione, you look exhausted. Do you want us to take you to your room?"

Suddenly she snapped back into reality and stared at Ron with her eyebrows raised. "No, of course not. I'm perfectly fine." Her footsteps fell silently on the stone floor was she walked over to Harry and stretched her arms awkwardly around him. "I'm glad you're back, Harry." Hermione was just the right height with her chin resting on his shoulder and the scent of her hair tickling his nostrils. Never before had Harry realized how fresh and clean she smelled. But despite the fact that she overwhelmed all of his senses, he could not help but notice how far away she stood in her attempts to hug him or how stiff her body seemed. It was like the biting wind he had spent the last half an hour walking through.

When she pulled away, her eyes seemed glossy again."I'm sorry guys, but I'm not feeling well. Must be that bug that's going around." Both of the boys exchanged signs of concern. She smiled faintly."You'll have to tell me all about your adventures tomorrow morning over breakfast."

Harry shrugged. "Not much to tell really. I spent most of my time studying."

"Harry Potter cooped up in a room studying? That will be the day." He noticed that Hermione seemed to be forcing her normal banter; Ron, on the other hand, just laughed in agreement.

"Mistletoe," the taller boy said to the Fat Lady who was dozing off as a result of too much eggnog. Her hand could barely cover her mouth as it stretched in drunken yawn as she let the three friends into Gryffindor tower.

If life occurred with the same poised precision of a muggle film, the music would have screeched to halt at the exact moment that Harry Potter entered the room. As it was, paused conversations left sentences unfinished and merry dancers were stopped in mid twirl at the sight of The Boy Who Lived's unexpected return to Hogwarts. Ginny, who was chatting with Neville at the buffet table, almost choked on her chocolate frog at the sight of the trio. Once the initial shock had worn off, Harry was suddenly surrounded by dozens of his classmates - swarming like bees around a solitary succulent flower. They bombarded him with questions about where he had been, what had he done and why hadn't he written. It was delightful to see them all after these last few isolated months, but the faces and voices blurred by his sheer exhaustion. Desperately he scanned the crowd in hopes of catching another glimpse of Hermione, but she had already faded out of visual existence.

Interrupting his line of sight was Ginny, staring at him with wide eyes and a strangled expression. Quickly she shoved her way through the crowds of students and before Harry could truly focus, she was standing beside him. Half of his attention was devoted to Sam's explanation of how Malfoy's mother was the new potions professor while the other half heard Ron introduce Gryffindor's other Quidditch seeker, Lavender Brown. All of him just wanted to lie down in a warm bed. As if she could sense his distress, Ginny interrupted.

"Hey guys, give Harry a break. He's hardly been here five minutes and you've already worn him out with the newest gossip." She grasped his arm gently and steered him away from the party. "Why don't we let him get situated before we catch him up with any more details, ok?"

Acknowledging the truth in her statement, the mass of people dissipated as Ginny escorted Harry into the stairwell heading up to the Seventh Year Boy's Dormitory. Once they were alone, she wrapped her arms tightly around him in a reassuring hug. Immediately he noticed that she had grown even more since the last time he had seen her, bringing the top of her head barely an inch below his own.

"If you get any taller, Gin, and I'm going to start feeling even worse about living in that cabinet all those years." His smile was weak, but sincere.

"It's in the Weasley genes, Harry. For a long time I thought it was going to pass me by, but it turns out that I was just a late bloomer."

"All this while I'm still waiting for my growth spurt to happen at all." Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands.

Ginny swiftly tucked a loose curl back into her formal up do. "Well, you're only seventeen. I hear that guys have until they're twenty-one to reach their full height."

"Thanks for the encouragement."

In Ginny's opinion, he looked like he needed it. "Just so you know Harry, I'm really glad you've come back to Hogwarts."

"Me too, Ginny. Me too." With that, he gave her a friendly peck on the cheek and headed up the stairs. She watched him for a few minutes, realizing how very young he looked despite how maturely he acted. Poor Harry, she thought as she shook her head. He didn't have the faintest idea what other challenges life had in store for him in the near future.

Dragging his weary body around the corner into the upstairs corridor, Harry paused at an unusual shuffling noise coming from the darkness of the empty hallway. It was a faint sound, almost a lusty muffle of quick kisses and fumbling hands. His eyes darted around the corners and crevices, hoping to spot the hormonal culprits' location and successfully avoid it before they discovered that someone was an accidental witness to the event. Feeling more alert, Harry quietly tiptoed past the boy's bathroom where the noise grew louder. He was surprised that it had never occurred to him to make out with a girl in the bathroom, but it wasn't like he had had many opportunities in the last few years. Besides the month he spent dating Cho at the end of Fifth Year (...and what a disaster that ended up being! She dumped him for none other than Lukas Koenig - the famous keeper for the Heidelberg Harriers) and the time he snogged Alicia Spinnet at a party last year, Harry didn't really have much experience with girls.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Harry almost tripped over his own two feet in an effort to not appear as a snoop. That was when he saw Seamus with nibbling passionately on a girl's neck, his hands buried in her long black hair. "Ohh, Parvati!" he moaned in her ear. Harry's jaw dropped like a puppet with a broken string at the sight of this make out session. Twice in one night, he thought, I must be cursed.

"Harry!" Seamus exclaimed once he caught sight of him standing there looking very confused. "Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here tonight. How ya been?" The conversation was entirely too nonchalant especially since Parvati was in the process of fastening up the back of her dress robes.

"Umm...I've been great. But I'm tired. Exhausted, really." Harry couldn't help but stare at her - Parvati really was extremely attractive. She just smiled at him coyly as she slipped her arm around Seamus's waist.

"Well, then you should really run along to bed, Harry. We're just going to head back to the party....right, Seamus?"

With a smile that resembled a cat that had just caught a canary, Seamus nodded in agreement. "Yes, of course. We'll see you around." Harry just shook his head in relief and headed off in the opposite direction. There were few times in his life that he wanted to climb into his own bed so badly. The dormitory was set up exactly as it he remembered, a warm fire glowing on the hearth and five four-poster beds lined up just like he had never left. He had almost forgotten that he would have been Hogwarts Head Boy this year had it not been for the unfortunate death of Professor Dumbledore and his subsequent four month disappearing act. As Head Boy he would have had his own bedroom with private bath, right next to Hermione's.

Harry barely had enough energy to remove his damp clothes and put on a pair of pajamas a house elf must have laid out for him. He pulled back the soft blankets and crawled in between the sheets, placed his glasses on the bedside table as his eyes began to close...

He awoke in a darkened room in the middle of the night. The fire must have died out awhile ago and there was a slight chill lingering in the air. Harry glanced over the other four beds quickly, but for some reason they were all empty. Everyone can't still be at the party, can they? he thought. How late is it?

He guessed it was around 2am, but could not be sure without his watch - the one whose strap had broken the week before and had not yet gotten fixed. About to turn over and go back to sleep, Harry suddenly caught a glimpse of someone standing in the doorway to the dormitory and sat up straight in bed.

"I've been waiting for you all night, Harry" she said in delicate whisper, her wavy brown hair flowing past the shoulders of her white cotton night gown.

"Hermione?" he asked tentatively, turning to search for his glasses on the night stand. Once found and his vision was cleared, he realized that she was gone. Harry panicked, his bare feet frozen as they walked across the stone floor to where she had been standing. "Hermione?" he whispered again, hoping that she would reveal herself hidden in the shadows of the corridor. How strange, he thought as he continued down the hallway to the steps leading to the common room. He noticed that there was no music playing, no sound of voices or light streaming up the staircase. If the party was over, where was everyone?

Upon entering the common room, Harry was welcomed by the most unusual sight, but one that was not entirely unfamiliar. About to exit Gryffindor tower via the portrait hole, was once again a younger version of the beloved Professor Dumbledore. Realizing that he had returned to the exact point in time where the last dream had left off almost two months ago, Harry didn't know whether to be excited or disappointed. How weird it was to know that are in a dream, while you are still in it? Unconscious illusion or not, he remembered that Professor Dumbledore was on his way to the library to find a student named Katherine. Harry had no choice but to follow him.

Quickly he scurried behind this auburn haired wizard, walking through the halls of a Hogwarts locked in time. Harry tried to guess from the surroundings what year it was supposed to be. He remembered the young Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Figg who both looked to be about fifteen. But with the way wizards and witches age, he had no idea of knowing how old either woman was in current times - in order to make a comparison. In the midst of Harry's mental debate, he had succeeded in arriving at the library which looked no different than it did in present day.

The room was virtually empty, but this was of no surprise to Harry. Professor Dumbledore and his unknown companion wandered amongst the stacks of books before they both caught sight of what they were searching for. Nestled in a corner of the Magical History Reference Section, were two students holding hands while they perused over some textbooks. It seemed innocent enough.

Dumbledore cleared his throat to get the scholars' attention. "Good Afternoon, Mr. Riddle. Miss Solare. I hate to interrupt your study session, but I was wondering if I could have a word with you in my office, Katherine."

"Yes, professor." The young girl replied quietly as she packed up her books. Harry, who now recognized the seventeen year old Tom Riddle whose sticky smile was holding back an obvious distaste for the older wizard. Dumbledore turned to leave, knowing full well that Katherine would follow him, and with his back turned she swiftly blew Tom a kiss. His smirk melted into a sincere grin that Harry knew could only be caused by a girl you truly loved. But then again, it was difficult to imagine Voldemort having a girlfriend, even at this age.

Moments later they were in Professor Dumbledore's office, not the one he occupied as Headmaster but the room besides the Transfiguration classroom. Regardless of the different location, you could still see hints of his future sense of humor laced within the decor. At this point in time, Dumbledore sat at his desk across from the young pupil, his face stern and unmoving. The girl was about fifteen years old and her strawberry blond hair was curled in a typical 1940's pageboy. Her green eyes wandered around the room, looking at everything but the person requesting her attention.

"Now, Katie. I'm sure you know what this is about."

Her voice responded clearly. "Yes, I understand. I just don't know why it is such a problem."

"I'm afraid your actions as of late are not representative of how a lady your age should act."

"Walking around the lake after dinner is hardly a concerning situation."

Dumbledore's mouth stretched in an undaunting line as he watched her. "But sneaking out of Gryffindor tower in the middle of the night to meet a certain boy is unacceptable. I hate to sound like your father, but I know that if he were with us today, he would definitely not approve of your behavior."

"But it is not just the fact that I am spending time with a boy that is upsetting you. If he was someone like Al Moody, Jacob Longbottom or even Richard Weasley - I'm convinced there wouldn't be a problem. The issue is that you don't want be dating Tom because he is a Slytherin."

The professor remained calm. "You know I do not prejudge an individual because of the house which he is a member of. Plenty of good and bad wizards have come out of each house which is proof that the individual determines their identity. I resent the fact that you are not aware of my position on this subject."

Katherine sighed, looking somewhat defeated by his truth. "But Uncle Albus, you don't understand....I really like Tom. Why can't you? He is top of his class, handsome, charming - and Head Boy. Why isn't that good enough for you?"

"Being an exemplary student does not guarantee that Tom is the best person for you to spending time with, Katie. I know I cannot truly explain it to you, dear, but it is a gut reaction. And sometimes it is the things you cannot explain that make the biggest difference." He watched her intently, hoping his words permeate through her stubborn demeanor. "You do not realize how important you are to me, Katie. You are the only daughter of my best friend and my little sister. Your father made me promise on his death bed, when you were still just a little girl, that I would always watch out for you. And now that Eliza is at St. Mungo's, I have to be twice as observant." His expression was suddenly distant as if he mind was fading away to another time and place.

Katherine stood up and walked over to the older man's side, wrapping her arms around him. "Don't worry, Uncle Albus. I'll be careful. I promise you."

As the images began to dissolve around Harry and he felt himself pulling out of his dream world, he couldn't help but wonder if this scene represented real life. Had Professor Dumbledore's niece (which Harry never even knew about) really been Tom Riddle's girlfriend during their time at Hogwarts? And if so, what repercussions did this have on the future? Or the better question - why were they reoccurring in Harry's mind over fifty years later....