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Track Thirteen: Welcome Home Son, Radical Face
The outside air met her skin with a bite. The wind was harsh and unforgiving. Without the sun to warm her, Circe felt chilled to the bone. She bundled her black and gold scarf tighter around her mouth, shielding it from unrelenting wind. The sun was only beginning to crest over the horizon as she trudged her way up to Gryffindor tower.
The night before, Harry had asked her if she'd mind coming to the Gryffindor tower early the next morning to talk over last-minute preparations for the task. Although, at the time she hadn't realized that the walk up to Gryffindor tower at six would be so terribly cold. The old castle was drafty and vast, which was a poor recipe for students who enjoyed being warm. By the time Circe had reached the portrait of the fat lady, her teeth were chattering so badly that her body began to shake with it.
The fat lady gave her a bored look, eyeing her Hufflepuff crest with poorly hidden disdain. She was only able to stare for a minute before she swung open, revealing the Gryffindor common room. Circe figured that Harry had told her to let Circe in earlier that morning. A large gust of heat rushed into Circe as she walked through the portrait hole, it felt cozy and homey. It reminded her of the burrow or the Tonks' cottage at Christmas.
She was immediately greeted with whispered hello's from Harry and Hermione. They were engaged in a discussion by the fire, with pages of detailed notes sprawled across the floor. It was an ambitious undertaking, educating Harry on three years worth of defense spells, but the trio had a newfound sense of confidence instilled in them after Circe's revelation regarding the summoning charm. For the past few days, the three of them had been working day and night trying to perfect the summoning charm, which was O.W.L material learned during their fifth year. They were all exhausted from the rigor of their training, Hermione especially. As she had been the one to do the majority of their research, which now littered the common room floor.
She sat down cross-legged beside the two Gryffindoors, taking in the common room. It was odd being in a common room that was not her own. She studied the diagrams of wand movements and defense spells as Harry and Hermione took to strategizing. She imagined the three of them looked half-mad, sitting there.
The three of them chatted for another thirty or so minutes until the Gryffindor tower began to awaken. People began sleepily traipsing down the stairs, headed to breakfast or to an early morning study session. A few waved, but most did not.
Harry and Circe had agreed to miss their lessons for the day, agreeing that Harry staying alive would be exceedingly more beneficial than whatever potion Snape would have them brewing. Hermione, on the other hand, would not miss class for her own funeral. So she bid Harry and Circe goodbye, wishing Harry luck before the tournament and promising that she'd come to find him as soon as classes were dismissed.
