A special thanks to my wonderful, hard ass of a beta i something.l1k3.laughter…I could not have gotten here without you!



-Coming Full Circle-

Chapter 1: First Greeting

-Draco POV-

"Shouldn't we be having one of the butlers do this?" Blaise Zabini grunted as he dragged the last of his eleven suitcases down the flight of stairs of his and his best friend's two-story flat.

"Nope. You seem capable of doing this all on your own." Draco Malfoy replied, leaning his side against the back door.

"And you aren't?" Blaise asked, sitting down heavily on the largest suitcase.

"Well I did have eleven suitcases." Draco sniffed, and Blaise laughed.

"Oh, well, excuse me…twelve suitcases!" Blaise jabbed his thumb in the air. "You're awful, you know that?" He looked at Draco who just shrugged smoothly.

"I try." Draco sighed and smirked at blue-eyed Italian. Blaise rolled his eyes and got up, pulling two cigarettes out of his blazer pocket. Draco took one and looked in the mirror, adjusting his white-blonde hair so that it fell a little more smoothly against his forehead. He knew they would have to go outside on the balcony because Blaise could not stand the smell of smoke sticking to the freshly painted walls. He looked past his own reflection and noticed that Blaise was taller than the stupid Ficus they had sitting in front of the mirror. Draco was not. The brunet didn't seem to notice Draco glaring at foliage, or he just ignored it.

"Oh, for God's sake, you look fine! We're just going outside to smoke. No one will even be able to see you this far up!" Blaise exclaimed, jamming the fag between his lips as he stepped outside. Draco smiled and continued to look at himself. He did look fine, most definitely fine. Better than fine. The blonde followed his friend outside and took a good look at Blaise who looked very fine as well. Both he and Blaise were always dressed to the nine's. The brunet was in a blue-blazer, a pair of black slacks that did wondrous things for his bum, and hand-crafted black Italian shoes. Draco knew they cost more then most of the cars chugging around below their feet because he had an identical pair. Draco himself was wearing a charcoal grey blazer, a white pressed Oxford ™ shirt, and pair of dark-wash True Religion™ jeans. Draco pulled out his platinum lighter and lit Blaise's cigarette for him, and he then touched his own fag to the end to share the flame.

"So, Baconton, Georgia?" Draco asked. Blaise just nodded. "Tell me why we're going there again?"

"My Uncle William needs councilors for his summer camp," Blaise explained, taking a drag from his cancer stick.

The blonde gave him a look. "And, why are we going again?"

"Because, my father says that I need to spend time with my family."

"Oh…" Draco nodded and then stopped. "And, I repeat, why are we going again?"

"Father said if I didn't go he would cut off my rent, and, because you live here, that's cutting off your rent too. In turn, you're coming along."

"This is shit." Draco looked down at his cigarette, shook his head, and smashed it out along the stone railing. "But it's only for a month, right?" Blaise coughed out something that sounded suspiciously like 'the whole summer'.

"I beg your pardon? You did not just say what I think you just said. Not the whole fucking summer, Blaise! I have three interviews lined up in August!" Draco was beyond pissed at this point. The main reason he was going along with Blaise was to get out of the city for a short while. Not the whole summer.

"I know!" Blaise said. "I'm sorry! Look Dray, just stay in Georgia as long as you can, and then leave a couple of days before your first interview. That means you'll be in Georgia for…" He counted on his fingers. "What day is it?"

Draco answered, his voice suddenly soft. "June 19th."

Blaise did a few more calculations. "Roughly a month and a half." The brunet smiled at Draco and then noticed the blonde's somber face. "Dray, are you alright?"

"It's June 19th." Draco repeated.

"What?" Blaise looked confused and then it dawned on him. "Oh." Draco looked away from his friend, but Blaise just grasped his shoulder understandingly.

"Mr. Zabini? Mr. Malfoy? The town-car is here!" The maid shouted from inside the flat.

Blaise called over his shoulder, "Thank you Jennet!"

Draco shook off the brunet's hand and put on a false smile. "Time to go, eh?" He asked, wiping away a tear that Blaise knew he was supposed to pretend was not there. Draco turned around and pushed off the balcony, heading inside. And just like that, Draco was back to his old self, the tender moment washed away like it had never happened. Blaise sighed and followed his best friend inside.

"Jennet?" Draco asked. She came around the corner and smiled. She was pretty, to Draco at least, a little overweight, with soft butter colored hair and warm brown eyes. For as shallow as Draco played out to be, he did not find stick-thin women attractive in the least.

"Yes Mr. Malfoy?"

"Someone is getting our bags correct?"

"Yes Mr. Malfoy, as we speak it is being taken care of."

Draco smiled. "Thank you. Those things were atrociously heavy, but I suppose if Blaise didn't pack so much, we wouldn't have this issue now would we?" he said the last part loud enough for the brunet to hear.

"You must be losing your mind! I recall you saying you had more bags then me." He paused, "Which was why you couldn't even carry your bags down the stairs! You have no idea how heavy they are!"

Draco gave him a look of innocence. "You're right; I have no idea what you're talking about." He winked at Jennet.

"Bullshit!" Blaise said pointing an accusatory finger at the silver-eyed blonde. Draco just laughed and walked over to Jennet,

His eyes sparkled in Jennet's direction as he said, "I want you take some time off. You work too hard. Take your family to the Malfoy summer home in the Bahamas."

"Mr. Malfoy, you know I can't. Senior Zabini pays me well but not that well." Draco's smile grew wider, a real smile, one not often seen. The silver-eyed man reached into his inside pocket and pulled out three passports.

"Well then, that's why someone else is giving this to you as a gift."

"Goodness! Mr. Malofy! I-I can't,"

"Sure you can. And here you go. A car will pick you up tomorrow, and your flight leaves at noon. Both your husband and your son know. Now go."

Jennet smiled and tears welled in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

He waved her off. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You, Allan, and Jamie, have a good time. Off with you then." Her gave her another smile and turned away, heading for the door.

Jennet turned to Blaise. "Please tell him thank you again for me."

Blaise nodded, and again followed Draco out the door.

"What was all that about?" Blaise asked Draco when they stepped in the elevator.

Draco asked raised an eyebrow. "What was all what about?"

He pointed his thumb behind his shoulder. "What you just did. What wasall that about?" Draco gave him the trademark superior Malfoy sneer.

"What are you talking about? It was her Christmas bonus."

"Oh, okay." Blaise decided to ignore that it was more then six months away from Christmas and let Draco just be Draco. Confusing, giving, sneering, shallow Draco.

-Harry POV-

He had been sitting outside on the porch steps for a good two hours before deciding that he needed to stop chain smoking. Harry James Potter sighed and pulled his cigarette away from his lips before blowing another smoke ring. He felt more than saw his best friend approach from behind.

"Ha're you?" Ronald Weasley inquired solemnly, shuffling his boots in the dirt.

"Alright," Harry said looking back towards the setting sun.

Ron followed his gaze. "You're a shit liar," Ron pointed out.

Harry nodded. "I know."

"Yougonna be alright?"


Ron nodded at Harry's response, and got off the wall. "Yer cousin's here, brought himself a friend. I give 'em both a day before they's a-bitchen'. " That brought a small laugh from Harry, and he got up, dusting off his pants. "Whaddaya say his name was again?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head. Harry had a tendency to be forgetful about things that did not concern him until the moment they needed to be dealt with.

"Blaise Zabini." Ron slung an arm over Harry's shoulders and gave him a small squeeze before dropping his arm away. "Weird, huh?" Harry nodded and they both trucked inside the house.

"How long 'ave they been here?" Harry asked pushing open the screen door,

"'Bout 'n hour 'go. Figured you wanted to think, so we left ya 'lone." Ron followed through and stopped in the kitchen, kissing his wife, Hermione.

She smiled brightly at Harry and ruffled his raven colored hair in affection. "How're you, sweetie?"

"'M good," he said

Her eyes filled with concern. "You sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah, don'cha worry 'bout me, 'Moine."

Ron looked at them both and grabbed his wife around the waist, pulling her into a hug; Harry smiled his thanks and left to greet his cousin. Blaise was sitting in a chair and listening as Harry's godchildren, Michael and Samantha, made an attempt to talk his ear off.

"So you're Uncle Harry's cousin?" Michael asked. At seven, he was the older of the two and looked like his mama with his brown curly hair and warm eyes. Sammie, on the other hand, looked more like her daddy. She had the same unruly curls, but it was red like Ron's. Her eyes were blue.

"You're our cousin too, right?" Sammie piped up quickly, not waiting for an answer. Michael looked at his little sister.

"Well-" Blasie began but was cut off.

"No, Sammie. 'E's jus' some man. Uncle Harry's our goddaddy."

Sammie looked thoughtful for a moment. "Then why'd we call Uncle Harry Uncle Harry?"

"Well, because…" Michael stopped confusion crossing his face. "Because…Mama said we could."

Sammie seemed satisfied with the answer and moved on. "How's come yer voice is so funny?" she asked.

Harry wondered how they knew what his cousin sounded like, considering it seemed as though Blaise couldn't get a word in edge wise.

"'Cause he's from Europe," Michael stated,

"How's come you don' let cousin Blaise answer for hisself?" Sammie pursed her lips at her older brother.

"'Cause you're askin' dumb questions," Michael murmured. Blaise just looked amused.

The red head announced, "You're the dumb one!"


"Roses 're red, violets 're blue. Whatever you say bounces offa me and sticks ta you!" Sammie said triumphantly.

"You got it all wrong! It's 'I'm rubber, you're glue-"

"That's enough, guys." Harry finally interjected, kneeling.

Sammie turned toward him. "He called me dumb, Uncle Harry."

"I thank I saw you call him dumb too." Sammie just jutted her lip out, pouting up at him. He smiled. "Li'l bird's gonna come along and sit right there on yer lip like a perch."

Sammie broke out in a grin, already forgetting her little tiff with her brother. Harry looked at Michael. "Howdy little man."

"He-y, Uncle Harry." He looked at Blaise, "We was just talkin' to cousin Blaise. He's nice but awful quite." Harry and Blaise both laughed at the comment.

Harry stood back up. "Mm-hmm, go on ta supper, you two. I do believe you's gonna drive Blaise here crazy." They looked back at Blaise in question, "Out." Sammie giggled and raced outside, Michael just sighed and followed his sister.

Blaise stood up, "Hello," he said and stuck out his hand. Harry shook it and returned the greeting. "She sure is cute. He is too, but I think if he heard me he'd get upset."

"Yeah…he's a tough li'l guy." Harry shoved his hands in his jean pockets and noticed how well-dressed Blaise was. They stood there for a few minuets in silence.

"Dinner should be ready soon. Blaise, since you're new in the house you get to help me set the table." Hermione said through the doorway and walked outside with an armful of plates.

"Alright," he looked toward Harry, "how many people are there?"

"Eatin'? All together? 'S 'bout twenty-three." His brow momentarily furrowed. "Well, twenty-four countin' yer friend. Where is he? I'll go 'n' get him."

Blaise looked at him for a moment, something like apprehension crossing his handsome features. "They told me he was in the room next to yours."

Harry nodded and started up the stairs,

"Harry?" Blaise said,


"If…if he's busy, doing something out of the ordinary, let him be until he is finished, okay?"

"Uh…alrighty. You'd best go help out, I thank I c'n handle gettin' yer friend."

Blaise nodded, looked at Harry once more, and left. Harry shook his head in confusion continued on his way, once he got to the top of the stairs he found he couldn't see a thing. The sun had gone down about twenty minuets ago, which left Harry in complete darkness. The brunet momentarily wondered why Blaise's friend didn't have a light on, but when he got all the way down the hall, he saw the man sitting in the middle of the floor meditating in front of a candle. Harry was certain that this was the 'out of the ordinary' thing Blaise had been talking about. The man looked to be at peace, and for some odd reason Harry felt like he knew him.

"Can I help you?" A voice questioned harshly. Harry snapped out of his thoughts and looked toward the man. He still had his eyes closed.

"What? No…I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" Harry stopped sputtering, turned, and left before he could make a bigger fool out of himself. Halfway down the stairs, he realized he had not given the man the reason he had been moronically standing in his doorway. He stood there for a few seconds more and decided he should just get the balls to go back up to tell the blonde dinner was ready. The brunette turned and marched back upstairs; the man wasn't in his room.

"Come to further interrupt my personal affairs?"

Harry jumped and followed the voice to a bathroom across the hall. "'M sorry. I didn' mean ta, er, 'interrupt yer personal affairs'."

The blonde standing beside the rusty sink was small; he looked barely sixteen. His features were almost sharp-looking and elvish. Everything about him was well taken care of, from his silky blonde hair to his spit-shined dress shoes.

"I'm short, I know. You can stop gawking."

Harry bristled at the comment. "I wa'n' lookin' at you 'cause you're short, er, not only 'cause." The little man raised a single arched, elegant eyebrow; brushed passed Harry; and walked back into his room. "I didn' mean to say that. I…I-"

"Are you always this articulate?"

Harry didn't have a clue as to what 'articulate' meant, so he shut his mouth on the subject. "Dinner's ready," he bit out. What the hell was this guy's problem? Harry hadn't meant to bother him. He just wanted to tell him damn dinner was ready. He didn't have to be such an ass about it.

"A whole summera workin' with that li'l prick…" Harry was gonna lose it before the week was out.