Circles Chapter 2: Inconspicuous Minus the In, a harry potter fanfic

CIRCLES, by CheckerBoard

A/N: Woo! Okay, Chapter 2. It takes an amazingly long time to write these things, and they're still short-ish in a long kind of way. Anyway, I'm writing this note (not only because I like to talk to people who can't see or hear me) to beg y'all for reviews. I'd really like to know what you want to see in this story and if I'm doing a good job! And that ends my begging. ENJOY CHAPPIE TWO!

DISCLAIMER: Just 'cause Rowling wrote the book means I have to say, "I took". (In summary: Not mine, not yours, but we can still pretend.)

CHAPTER 2,

Inconspicuous Minus the In

"Happy Wednesday," Harry announced to the morbid looking breakfast table. Ron, groggy and surprisingly not revitalized by the prospect of food, sat picking at his eggs half-heartedly. Hermione, tired as always, rubbed sleep from her eyes and hoisted her Charms book onto her empty plate. Ginny was a tad angry because she had missed the bench and fallen on her butt when she attempted to sit down, and Neville had lost another homework assignment and was emptying his lint-filled pockets onto the table.

"I particularly dislike Wednesdays," Ron said, chopping a piece of egg off the mother-piece with his fork and shoving it into his mouth. "It's kind of like you're trapped in the middle of the week, you know?"

"Surprisingly, you're right," Ginny said, dusting herself off and sitting in front of the bulky Charms book.

"Aren't I just? You're dead from lack of sleep anyway from Monday and Tuesday, and now it's Wednesday, and you've got Thursday and Friday to look forward to, which, by the way, isn't much to be looking forward to at all."

"Sure, Ron," Harry said, his eyes slanting towards Hermione who was reading the same line of her book over and over again. "Hey, Hermione."

"Mmm-hmm?" Hermione acknowledged.

"I was just wondering," Harry started, stealing a glance at Ron from the corner of his eye, "why you've been missing dinner these past few nights." Hermione almost jumped out of her skin. She tried to look Harry square in the face but found her eyes shying away.

"Well, you see… it's mostly because… I've been… well, I don't know." Hermione offered, but she knew it was a sad attempt and could tell Harry didn't buy it.

"You don't know? Is something wrong, Hermione?" Ginny asked, turning to face Hermione. The brunette shook her head vigorously and smiled at the lot of them.

"Guys, seriously. I just haven't been feeling well, you know? You people worry a bit too much." She said, shaking her head and standing from her spot. "I think I'm going to go put my book back in my room, it's a bit heavy and I don't need it for Potions today." She slung her bag over her shoulder, took a final sip of her morning juice, and stepped away. Harry's eyes trailed her as she flounced out of the Great Hall.

"I'm worried about her," he said, and Ron nodded. The Gryffindor's tore their eyes away from her retreating form and looked at each other. "She's always tired and keeps missing dinner…"

"Hum." Said Ginny. "Maybe she's just being a person, guys. She can't always be happy-go-lucky Hermione. Sometimes she can be stressed-out Hermione too."

"Thanks, Gin, for telling us that Hermione has multiple identities."

"Shut up, Ron. You obviously don't know anything about girls," Ginny said and turned to her breakfast.

"Maybe Ginny's right, I mean, with all of this stress about the Order and school…" Harry began, and then shook himself. "Let's just not worry about it for –" Harry was interrupted by the sound of what seemed like a thousand owls bursting in from the ceiling and dropping packages often less than accurately.

He was surprised when a huge package for Hermione landed in his in his eggs. The owl ruffled its feathers snobbishly and took off for the windows. Harry just stared blankly at the parcel, wrapped in brown paper. He picked it up, only to have it snatched away by Ron, who enthusiastically shook it.

"Stop it, Ron, it's not for you!" Ginny cried, tearing the package away from him and shaking it herself. "We'll give it to her later," the youngest Weasley decided, and tucked the box resourcefully under her seat.

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Hermione flopped onto her bed, letting her Charms book fly a little until it landed noisily against her headboard. She dug her face into her pillow and let out the tiniest of screams.

I am tired, she told herself.

I am sick of hearing them be worried.

I am sick of classes.

I am even sick of homework.

I am sick of Lavender Brown and her nosiness.

I am sick of carrying my fat Charms book around.

I am sick of Slytherins.

I am sick of the Daily Prophet.

Hermione picked herself up from her bed and stared around at the peacefulness of the Gryffindor girls' dorms. If only it could be like this all the time! She mentally exclaimed.

She looked over at her clock and sighed. It was almost time for Double Potions with the Slytherins. She quietly picked up her bag and stomped out of the room, her bed messy and the covers tearstained.

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"Today we will be doing something new."

Snape's voice was usually very low-toned and dangerous, but today, he sounded almost happy. And, if you were in the Gryffindor house, a happy Snape is a bad Snape.

"We'll be working on a new potion today – it's called the Firmo venenum. Used by travelers and warriors. Has anybody heard of it before? Ah, I would've suspected, Mr. Malfoy. Please describe to us what the Firmo venenum is used for." Malfoy cleared his throat loudly and smirked.

"The Firmo venenum is a strong potion that wards off fatigue and exertion. A few sips revitalize you after any physical exhaustion. Some people use it as a sleepless potion, sort of like caffeine."

"Very good, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin." Malfoy and the other Slytherins grinned and the Gryffindors had to hold back their groans. "Now, this potion is rather complicated, far too complicated for me to expect most of you to complete on your own. Therefore, I have randomly placed you in groups of four, two boys and two girls. Over the next two weeks you and your group mates will properly prepare and create your potion, use it in practical real-life application, and devise a three-foot long essay about the experience."

Hermione could feel eyes boring into her – she glanced over at Harry and Ron and saw them staring back, looks of utter disbelief and anguish plastered on their faces. She gave them a little smile and turned back to Snape, who was eagerly calling out the names of groups.

"Brown, Seamus, Bulstrode and Hersh will be one group… Mr. Potter, Patil, Clorr and Mr. Malfoy will be another… Granger, Longbottom, Miss Parkinson, Crabbe, you'll be working together…" Harry and Hermione exchanged alarmed glances, while Ron sat pondering his fate while Snape rattled off more names. Malfoy sent a dirty look in the direction of the two, and Hermione looked up to meet his eyes while Harry decided to ignore him. Malfoy smirked and switched his gaze back to Snape who had just placed Ron with the threateningly bulky Goyle.

"Now, I want all of you to go to your group mates and discuss and start the potion. Ingredients and instructions will be on the board. Begin!" Snape looked positively gleeful and practically flounced to his desk, setting his elbows on the wood and leaning forward, watching the class with pleased eyes.

"Urgh. Snape will go to any measures to separate us!" Harry said, picking up his books since Malfoy and Anna Clorr were already seated with their feet hoisted P.I.-style on the table.

"Yeah. Two weeks of torture," Ron said, swallowing as he watched Goyle pound his fist into his flabby hand with a sickening smack.

Hermione stuffed her things into her bag and picked it up, scanning the room for her group mates. "Bye, guys," she said sadly, and then set off in Longbottom's direction. Pansy was already screeching in his ear about how much she hated the new arrangements. Crabbe stood stupidly behind Pansy, nodding at everything she said and grinding his teeth together threateningly.

"Oh, well." Hermione walked over and set her heavy book bag on the table. When Pansy didn't stop her relentless verbal abuse, Hermione stepped between her and Neville and cleared her throat. "Let's get to work, hm?"

"No way, Granger. How about you get to work while Crabbe and I here criticize you for doing it wrong? Mudblood," she spat, and Crabbe nodded even more stupidly. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Can you trust a Mudblood to do your work right?" she said, watching Pansy smile at the self-insult.

"Hmm, I suppose not. How about I give orders and you do what I say. Now, Neville, get out the wormwood. Granger, I'll let you handle the fire." Hermione knitted her eyebrows together angrily, pulling Neville away from his duties at the wormwood and stepping closer to Pansy.

"That's not how it's going to work. We are all going to do this together. Which means I will be copying down the ingredients, you will be lighting the fire, Neville will be sorting out herbs and Crabbe will be putting the cauldron on the table." Pansy was about to open her mouth in retort but Neville and Crabbe had already obediently gone to their duties, Neville out of fear and Crabbe because… well, because he was an idiot.

"Crabbe! What are you – fine, Mudblood. Only because I want a good grade." Pansy said, and Hermione, though she wanted to bite off the Slytherin's head, just nodded and turned toward her parchment to scribble down the ingredients.

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" – and then Malfoy was like, 'Oh, Potty, are you quite too famous to copy notes down these days?' I can't believe it. We're in 5th year and he called me 'Potty'. And he's still hung up about me being famous! He's so jealous, that's all." Harry had been telling Ron and Hermione all about his escapades during Potions that day during lunch. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to her food, while Ron's ear began to turn pink with anger.

"Snape is so impossible," Ron declared, with a few agreeing grunts from other Gryffindors. He proceeded to swallow his goblet of juice in one gulp, then began to choke and cough.

"So are you," Hermione said under her breath while Ron sputtered and Harry worriedly whacked him on the back. When Ron's dying throes began to calm, Hermione stood up and dropped her fork a little louder than she had intentioned. Nearly the whole Gryffindor table turned their heads to the sound, inadvertently sending many pairs of eyes staring Hermione's way.

"Oh, I'm just going upstairs, stop staring at me," she said reprimandingly, picking up her bag and sparing a few moments to watch her plate successfully disappear before she left.

Once outside of the Great Hall, she quickly made her way to the library with minimal distractions and delays. When she finally sat down in a seat by a far table, she laid her head in her hands and turned her brain on full throttle.

Hermione's thoughts traveled to earlier that morning, where Harry had expressed his concerns over Hermione's absence at dinner. She knew it was the club that made her miss the meal, and she also knew that if she just stopped going then she wouldn't have to lie or miss dinners in the Great Hall anymore – but at the same time, she knew she was unable to do that. She had already accepted that tonight she would be visiting again, though the question that remained was how. Her two best friends were already overprotective and had noticed a lot. She couldn't just tell them that she was visiting an illegal nightclub where she drunk her ass off, even though she was underage.

You don't drink your ass off, dear, Hermione's consciousness said, trying to console her. She laughed a little at the prospect but felt the silky tendrils of denial breathe soft patterns on her face.

You have a lot to worry about. It's a rite of passage. You are fifteen.

Hermione tried to shake the voice out but it held tight.

Harry and Ron wouldn't understand. They don't know what it's like to feel like that.

She pinched herself a few times and gasped while it hurt, trying to stop her brain from whirring, but it was already unstoppable.

Don't you remember what it was like? Don't you remember what he smelled like, what he felt like?

It didn't matter… Harry and Ron knew everything…

They don't know what it's like to feel like that. Sneak away…

Maybe if there were a way to get to Hogsmede faster, she wouldn't miss dinner…

Harry and Ron wouldn't understand. You are fifteen. They don't need it – you do.

She couldn't apparate out of Hogwarts, but if there was another way, a spell or a… a something…

You have a lot to worry about. Don't you remember what he felt like?

Maybe it was in one of the books, right here, in this library…

Didn't it feel great??

Wasn't she the smartest witch in the school?

Could you live without him? Without that boy?

She would find it…she would look for it right now…

Wasn't it great?

Hermione opened her closed eyes and picked her head up off of the table, standing and rushing to the shelves of books. She looked at the meaningless titles, skipping whole shelves, pulling off important books and trudging back to her lonely table with them. She leafed through a few pages on the history of apparition while her mind played on continuous replay, warming her insides.

Wasn't it great? This is for you, Hermione. Something just for you. They don't have to know…

That night Hermione decided to dress in a mini skirt and practically see-through top. In her mind, she was positively floating – after the revelation at the library, her guilt had practically been stripped, at least for tonight, from her mind. Tonight was just for her – wait, no, her and him. She could almost feel a girlish giggle try to surface as she slipped her robes over the clothes she was sure he would love. She buttoned her robes up tight and slid out the door and out of the portrait.

Unfortunately, her good mood was dampened when she realized first she'd have to go to the Great Hall and eat a quick dinner, just to make Harry and Ron feel better. She felt almost guilty for lying to them, but her inner voice that had helped her so much at the library began to whisper in her ear as she purposefully waltzed down the hallways.

Harry and Ron looked fairly excited when Hermione plopped down next to them at dinner.

"Finally decided to grace us with your presence, Hermione?" Ron said jokingly, and Hermione just smiled, her mind stuck on thoughts of later that night.

"Well, let's eat, I suppose!" Harry said happily, glad Hermione had come to dinner tonight so he didn't have to worry. He speared his meat with his fork and lifted it loftily. "I claim this land in the name of Hermione, who has decided to eat today!"

"Harry… you're embarrassing us." Ginny and Ron said together, and Harry just laughed and attempted to stick the whole steak into his mouth. Hermione didn't notice though – her eyes were far away and dreamy. She didn't notice she was staring at the Slytherin table until a few of them began to point and laugh at her. She quickly slid her eyes away and onto Harry, whose mouth was full of steak, his eyes bulging. Ron, Neville, and Ginny were all practically rolling on the floor laughing. Hermione had to admit it did look really funny…

But she had an appointment to make. She quickly took a sip of juice and coughed it back up. Ron, Ginny, and Harry quickly turned towards her, eyes wide. She continued to cough and her eyes began to water.

"Hermione! Are you okay?" Ginny asked, clapping her lightly on the back.

"Yeah… I'm going upstairs…" Hermione said, with a few more theatrical coughs, and the three other Gryffindor's nodded.

"I'll take you," Ginny started, but Hermione shook her head vigorously and just smiled, suppressing another spasm.

"I won't be very good company right now," Hermione said and took off for the doors. Ginny just sat back down half-heartedly and began to pick at her plate. Harry choked out his steak onto his plate, much to the disgust of everyone watching.

Ron watched her out, and then smacked Ginny a little forcefully on the head.

"Oy! What was that for?" Ginny cried, smacking Ron in the forehead twice as hard.

"Ouch! That was because you forgot to tell her about her mail!"

"Well you could have remembered! Why didn't you tell her?"

"I forgot until now, thank you very much!"

"Be quiet you two," Harry reprimanded them. "We'll give it to her after dinner when she's feeling better."

"Can I get ya something?"

"Yeah. Whatever I had last time," Hermione said, and to her surprise, the greasy bartender nodded and brought out a dusty bottle, exactly the same as the drinks she'd been consuming the last couple of nights. She fleetingly worried about how he could remember her – but she shrugged it off with a few sips of the liquid and let her insides be burned by it. She was about to go out onto the dance floor to look for the guy when she felt someone take her hand and she turned to see her dark haired admirer.

"You look nice tonight," he said, eying her transparent top, and she giggled, took another swig of her drink, and let herself be led out onto the dance floor. While the lights flashed around her, all she could think about was this boy…

He talked to me! I missed this boy…

Hermione's chest kept bumping up against his and she couldn't help but feel the pleasant tingle it gave her. She wrapped an arm around his neck and willed herself even closer.

"Baby," he said, startling Hermione, who looked up at him. The music switched to a slow song and he locked his arms around her. She pulled her other arm up around him and leaned her head on his shoulder, so his mouth was right next to his ear. "Baby, what's your name?"

"Herm... i…" she started, then caught herself, taking a few moments to think. "I'm Mya."

"Mmm, I'm Brad." He said, and she smiled at his name.

Brad… that's so sexy…

"Mya?"

"Mmm, yeah?"

But whatever he was going to say was drowned out by a loud, fast song bursting from the speakers. Hermione shrugged it off and handed herself over to grinding against Brad until midnight.