Full Circle

Chapter 21

"Excuse me. Am I interrupting something? Narcissa Malfoy asked as she peaked her head around the door of Professor McGonagall's office.

Minerva calmly looked up from her desk. "No, nothing important, Narcissa. It's just a meeting that started twenty minutes ago - a meeting where I had requested your presence...."

Professor Malfoy glanced awkwardly around the room. In front of her, two black haired men sat, both growing terribly impatient with the situation but each for different reasons. Off to the side, Madame Pomfrey was methodically reviewing her documents.

"Oh... I forgot....I'm sorry I'm late....Minerva," Narcissa stammered as she closed the door behind. "The lines at the Apothecary were outlandish."

"What is she doing here?" Sirius asked.

"This she has a name, Sirius, and as I must remind you - Narcissa is an esteemed member of Hogwart's faculty," replied Snape.

"And she is already privy to important details of this case," continued Professor McGonagall, gesturing for Narcissa to sit down. "I was just explaining to Mr. Black here about the predicament we have on our hands - Mr. Potter's apparently unknown paternity and the safety precautions put into place to ensure Miss Granger's safety."

"Safety precautions?" Narcissa repeated.

Minerva glared down her interruption. "Yes. The secret location of Miss Granger's room and the charms created to protect it...."

"Oh, of course," she replied.

Sirius squinted his eyes at Narcissa. "She doesn't sound too familiar with the circumstances to me."

"Well, Narcissa certainly knows more about this than you do," Snape quipped.

Professor McGonagall slammed her fists against the top of her desk. "I have had just about enough of this nonsense. I cannot let this situation continue any further." Her audience focused on the rarely aggravated fury of the headmistress.

"Now that I have everyone's undivided attention," Minerva continued, "I have a request to make. One of you needs to go and find Harry, tell him the truth, and bring him back to Hogwarts - immediately!" And before he had a change to respond, she whipped her face in Sirius' direction. "And, no - absolutely not!"

Sirius stood up. "And why not?" he demanded.

"You've gotten the boy into enough trouble. I need someone who is determined, reliable and not prone to funny business."

"Well, if you had bothered to tell me that Hermione was pregnant, I would have never let Harry leave-"

"That is certainly no excuse, Sirius. You had no right to take him off Hogwarts property without my permission," McGonagall replied, curtly. "End of story."

Sirius crossed his arms against his chest and returned to his chair in the corner.

"Well, I feel the best candidate for this task is Severus," said Narcissa. Snape shot her a glance.

"Well, of course, you would!" spat Sirius.

"That is enough! If you can not act like an adult, I must ask you to leave." Everyone turned to Sirius in anticipation of a rebuttal that never came. Returning her attention to Snape, Professor McGonagall asked, "Severus, will you be able to help me?"

Snape was silent for a moment, his face obviously contorted with displeasure, before replying. "Minerva, I have classes to teach....final exams to prepare for."

"It will not take long if you are the person to complete the task. I can always have Aberforth cover your classes until you returned."

"Besides, Severus... who else do we have?" asked Narcissa.

Snape felt the two witches' heavy gaze upon him. Realizing there was no way out of the situation, Snape breathed sharply through his long pinched nose. "Fine," he complied. "Let me gather a few things and I'll leave this evening."

"Thank you," Professor McGonagall responded. "Meeting adjourned."

**************

Of all the teachers that Mandy Brocklehurst could have complained to about yesterday's Stinksap incident, Neville wished it hadn't been Professor Snape. He grumbled to himself as he shoved a roll of parchment under one arm and tucked a textbook under the other. Neville was not looking forward to spending Sunday evening writing an extra long DADA essay under the watchful eyes of Snape.

Entering the Gryffindor common room, Neville caught a glance of Ginny having a very quiet conversation with Lavender Brown on the sofa by the fireplace. Poor Ginny, Neville thought. Always playing the part of the mediator.

"Hey, Neville, where are you headed?" asked Dean, looking up from his sketchpad.

"Detention with Snape," Neville replied in a monotone voice.

Dean winced. "Ooh. Good luck with that, mate."

"Thanks," he muttered, climbing through the portrait door.

Less than ten minutes later, Neville glanced at his watch before walking into the Defense of the Dark Arts Classroom. Exactly seven o'clock. If I'm lucky, Snape might let me out by nine, he thought. The room was empty when Neville quietly opened the door, but he could hear some noises coming from the professor's office. Neville decided to take a seat at a desk in the front row and begin working.

Name the top five defensive techniques to counter attack Unforgivable curses:

Neville shuttered slightly. Even though his performance in DADA had improved greatly during his involvement in Dumbledore's Army, this particular topic was not one he liked to focus on. Neville dipped his quill into the inkwell imbedded into the desk top and pressed the point onto the parchment.

"It's about bloody time you got here!" a voice called out from Professor Snape's office. Neville's head snapped up quickly at the sound. He opened his mouth, about to stutter an apology, when he heard a female voice respond.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't just waltz into this place like you can," she snapped. "Besides, it took weeks to undo the damage you created with your little temper tantrum."

"Shut up, girl. I'm not in the mood," the man replied.

Neville grabbed his study materials, tiptoed across the room and swiftly pressed himself against the wall beside the office, so not to be seen. How do I always manage to find myself in these situations? He thought, as he debated whether or not he should leave.

"This is the thanks I get for saving you? Why you ungrateful bastard!"

The man seemed undaunted. "Don't play coy with me. You didn't come here to rescue me out of the kindness of your heart," he smirked. "As if you even had any compassion left within you...."

"You're right," the woman answered, smoothly. "I came here because the Lord asked me to do so."

"And you can't help but to obey him," the man replied.

"I should want to do nothing but obey him." Her words were firm. Neville heard a shuffling sound. "Here, this is for you," she continued, apparently handing something to the man.

"And you expect me to take this?" he asked.

"Well frankly, you can't go walking around looking like you do now."

There was silence for a moment as he thought the situation over. "I suppose you're right," he said, gruffly.

The woman sounded annoyed. "Oh course, I am. Now, hurry up! We don't have all night." Neville heard more shuffling. "When you're done with that, put these on and meet me in her office. At that point, we will go over your next assignment."

During this entire conversation, Neville had been slowly creeping back toward the main door of the classroom. When he heard what sounded like the woman's voice exiting from Snape's office, he panicked and instinctively called out, "Excuse me? Professor Snape?"

Neville was unsure if his interruption contributed to the sharp sound of glass breaking from the next room. Professor Malfoy quickly emerged from the office and narrowed her eyes at the student.

"What are you doing here, young man?" she asked, venomously.

Despite his queasy stomach, Neville held strong. "I...have detention...tonight. With Professor Snape."

Both of them turned at the sound of struggling coming from the next room. A moment later, Professor Snape came out, looking somewhat disheveled. "Detention, you say?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "How could I have forgotten something as important as a student's detention? Well, boy, I hate to disappoint, but I have more important things to do tonight than sit around and watch you clap erasers. Consider today to be your lucky day....what did you say your name was again?"

"Longbottom, sir. Neville Longbottom."

Professor Malfoy cocked her head and stared at Neville before flashing a smile. His personal discomfort was growing exponentially by the minute.

"Well, Mister Longbottom. Your detention has been dismissed. Run along now."

Neville glanced at both professors, wide eyed with disbelief. Unanswered questions ran rampant through his mind until the elders' unfriendly glares forced him to stammer a thank you and head back to Gryffindor Tower. Neville was unsure what to make of the current situation, but decided that he needed to share this information with someone...

*****************

Ginny Weasley was at the end of her rope. She could hardly pay attention in class as Professor Delacour went over the details of Conjuring Spells for the upcoming final exams. After the heated argument Ginny had had with Draco Malfoy in the courtyard yesterday, she then tracked down Lavender Brown and spent over an hour convincing her that Ron was not the father of Hermione Granger's baby and then another two hours persuading Lavender to keep this information to herself. By the time Neville returned to Gryffindor Common room asking to talk with her, Ginny asked for a rain check meeting for the following afternoon - she had already had too much conversation for one day.

As she walked out of the Transfiguration classroom, Ginny could hear her friend Luna Lovegood signing softly to herself, despite the annoyed glances she was receiving from their classmates.

"Day after day, alone on the hill. The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still. But they never get to know him. They can see that he's just a fool. And he never gives an answer-"

"The Fool on the Hill," Ginny interrupted. "I never knew you were a Beatles fan, Luna."

"Oh, of course!" Luna replied with a large smile. "I love Muggle music. I can't wait to see their reunion concert on New Year's Eve 2000! Can you just imagine the turn out? It will be the first time all four have performed together in decades!"

Ginny raised her eyebrow. "All four, Luna? But isn't John dead?"

Luna hiccupped a laugh. "That's just what they want us to think. I know for a fact though, that John Lennon is alive and well and living in Morocco. A roving reporter, Nebbie Winkler from The Quibbler had an interview with him just last month, discussing all the facts surrounding the conspiracy. I'll give you a copy of the magazine when it comes out in few weeks, if you want to read about it yourself."

"No, no. That's quite alright," Ginny replied, as they found themselves standing outside the Great Hall. "Hey, do you mind if we grab some sandwiches and eat lunch by the lake this afternoon?"

"No, I don't mind. I prefer eating outside the dining hall whenever possible." The two stepped inside briefly and walked over to a small table set up along the side wall. There, stacked in a pyramid formation, was a variety of sandwiches sitting next to a large bowl of fruit. Ginny deliberated for a moment before picking roast beef, but Luna hunted to the bottom of the stack for a tuna on rye. "Besides," Luna said, sticking an apple in her knapsack, "it's obvious there's something you want to talk about."

Ginny grabbed a banana and headed out through the side door of the Entrance Hall, but remained silent. Luna continued with the conversation, oblivious to the lack of the response. "I hope you didn't just assume he'd wake up one morning and be a completely different person."

The Gryffindor's heart froze momentarily as their eyes adjusted to the bright afternoon sun. "Who are you talking about?" Ginny questioned.

Luna brushed her long blond hair out of her face. "Draco Malfoy, of course. I saw you two squabbling in the courtyard yesterday."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ginny stammered in response.

Making herself comfortable on the soft grass, Luna removed the quill from behind her ear and jotted notes on a piece of parchment. "Virginia! I know people might think I'm a little odd at times, but I'm certainly not dense. I am in Ravenclaw."

Ginny stared at Luna as if she was wearing another roaring lion on top of her head.

"There's been an obvious increase in communication between you two since the whole black mail incident-"

Ginny's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Wait a minute, I never told anyone about that!"

"Au contraire! I came to visit you in the hospital ward after the blinding accident (which by the way is my second observation) and while you were deliciously drowsy with sleeping draught potion - you rambled on a great deal about things." Luna began to unwrap her sandwich before reaching into the front pocket of her bag and pulling out a small clear bottle of red liquid. Lifting up the top piece of bread, Luna shook several droplets onto her tuna salad. Ginny was temporarily distracted from the conversation at hand.

"What is that?" Ginny asked. At the same moment, she remembered her own roast beef sandwich and sat down beside Luna to eat it.

"Cayenne pepper sauce. Last summer The Quibbler ran a whole series of articles on the hypothermic seasonings used to cleanse the lymphatic system. It's actually very complex." Luna glanced up at Ginny with her large pale eyes. "Would you like some for your sandwich? It is supposed to increase one's ability to perform reflexive spells."

Ginny shook her head. "Back to the conversation... what makes you think-"

"He intrigues you. More than you'd like to admit. Why, I'm not exactly sure, because he doesn't seem to be terribly insightful..."

"This coming from the girl who considers my brother Ron to be an intellectual!"

Luna simply smiled. "He plays a wonderful game of wizard chess." She took a bite of her sandwich. "Perhaps you find him to be a challenge."

"Ron?"

"No, not Ron."

Ginny sighed. "Do you think I told things to anyone else while I was in the hospital ward?"

"I doubt it," Luna replied. "Most people stopped by only when you were awake. Though, Neville did bring you a nice bouquet of flowers the morning after it happened. Mundane daffodils, I'm afraid."

Ginny wasn't actually sure what Luna was referring to, but did not question it. She was more perturbed with the idea of her innermost secrets being spoken out loud - dancing in front of her like a house elf in a tea cozy. But on the other hand, it was also a relief to finally be able to talk about this situation with someone....someone who wasn't Draco Malfoy. And while Luna's thoughts were sometimes quite bizarre, Ginny knew she could trust her friend to keep this information to herself. Now if they could only find Harry...

***************

He knelt down before the shattered remnants of the building, overgrown with a decade and a half worth of weeds...and cried. His face was dirty, his hair a mess, the hospital pajamas he was wearing were torn in places, but at this point - Harry no longer cared. There was no one there to see him shed his tears and there was no way he could stop himself from doing so, even if he wasn't alone. They were not just mere droplets of salty water streaming down his face. His body was wracked with childish sobs, immature for a near-grown wizard like himself. Harry felt his life, like the home that had once stood in this spot, had crumbled around him.

The first part of his plan was to return to the house that appeared his dreams, in order to unravel the secret of his unconscious thoughts. He had gone to Le Maison du Solare, he had climbed the staircase to his grandmother's room and in his mind's eye he saw the sordid affair that lead to his mother's conception. Lily Evans Potter had been the innocent byproduct of a rape between a man turned animal and his estranged wife. A daughter was born to the future Lord Voldemort and the beloved niece of Albus Dumbledore - the only wizard besides Harry himself that Voldemort had ever feared. A child raised by Muggle parents, never to suspect her true origin.

When he had returned consciousness, Harry could do nothing but mutter to himself "I am the heir of Slytherin. I am the heir of Slytherin," over and over again. Words - that if overheard by Professor McGonagall - might have stirred up memories that she had spent years trying to forget: recollections of a young Hogwarts professor, using her gifted magic to erase a name from The Golden Book, in order to protect the life of a child.

After a few days in St. Mungo's in almost complete isolation, Harry began to devise the second part of his plan: to return to Godric's Hollow to his parents' house. He needed to peel back the next layer of this mystery. Unfortunately, two things occurred to throw Harry of his course: first being the unexpected discovery of Hermione's pregnancy. For hours after Harry disapparated from the deserted parking lot behind the hospital, and even now, he couldn't even fully comprehend the information. Harry barely remembered punching Ron or skidding down the hallways in order to escape. In fact, he was so disorientated when he popped into thin air that he reappeared in a totally unfamiliar field beside a small winding stream. Harry lied on the grassy knoll for a long time, totally lost and confused, before picking himself up and headed out to a nearby road.

The second devastating event was his arrival at Godric's Hollow, only to find the place in shambles. It had taken him two days to determine where he was and the desired location on a map he had bought at a wizarding pub. The problem was that no one had told Harry that his parent's house had been almost completely destroyed the night of their murder. Years had gone by and no one had bothered to restore the old house, or even knock it down to start anew. Who would want the misfortune of living so near to Voldemort's last great attack? So now he knelt there weeping, the arms of his sweater moist from using his sleeves as tissues. All the repressed emotions of the last seventeen years of his life flowed through his body and spilled out onto the ground before him.

Harry recalled his neglected childhood and the emotional abuse he suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. He felt the high that came from learning that he was actually a wizard only to be shot down by the discovery of Lord Voldemort. He recollected the delight of learning to play Quidditch and the tasks he accomplished during the Triwizard Tournament. He remembered the accusations he had suffered, the deaths he had witnessed, the battles he had fought. Every miserable encounter he had had with the Dark Lord over the past six years. But there were other fond memories too: Christmas at the Burrow, trips to Hogsmeade, moving in with Sirius. What was better than swapping Quidditch stats with Ron? Or teaming up with Ginny for a practical joke? Or having late night conversations with Hermione....

For that matter...it was often nice to study with Hermione. Or receive letters during the summer from Hermione. Or figuring out how to solve a problem with her help. Or having someone know exactly what you're thinking without ever saying a word.

Harry remembered feeling lonely when Hermione started dating Ron. He wasn't jealous, but at the same time couldn't understand how Ron would ever be able to truly understand Hermione. Months later, he did his best to hide his happiness when the two of them broke up. But despite the twangs of emotions that started to form about his best friend Hermione, Harry never once thought to do anything about it. He pushed them aside and pretended they weren't real.

By the time his birthday rolled around, the persistent thoughts were getting harder to ignore. Not only was he smiling at the way that she laughed or pondering the meaning of the words that she said...but he started to imagine Hermione in a new way. A passionate, fiery, adult sort of way. Running his fingers through her thick bushy hair or gazing into her brown eyes. The kind of stuff people write about in stories.

Harry closed his eyes and in his mind saw a vision of Hermione standing there before him. He saw her completely - everything from the snippy little girl he had met on the train to the intelligent mature woman that Hermione eventually grew into. But Ginny's painful words continued to ring through his head.

"Neither she nor Professor McGonagall want anyone to discover that Hermione's pregnant."

At first he was angry that someone as smart as Hermione would have gotten into this situation. Even if Ron had been too dense to use protection, surely Hermione would have conjured up an appropriate spell. But then again, he thought, what if she never agreed to having sex in the first place? What if she was pressured into the act, became pregnant and was forced to hide it...similar to what happened to Kate Riddle?

Suddenly Harry's eyes flicked open and his heart skipped a beat. For months, he had been having dreams unraveling the story of Tom and Kate Riddle. During the same time he had different dreams, about the soft kiss and smooth skin of his best friend, Hermione. As the two worlds collided, he realized that both sets of these dreams were in fact reality and the child Hermione was carrying....his child...was in great danger.

At the same moment, Harry felt the pointed end of a wand pressing right between his shoulder blades and heard an unfamiliar voice smirk,

"Well.... if it isn't Harry Potter?"