Free Will and Fate

"Is everyone clear on the instructions?" Snape asked.

The Prefects responded with nods and there were a few "yes sirs" from the students around the room. In addition to Harry and Hermione, the other Prefects were Draco and Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin, Cho Chang and Roger Davies from Ravenclaw, and Zacharias Smith and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff. To Harry's surprise and delight, Cedric Diggory was also there serving as Head Boy, with Angelina Johnson as Head Girl.

Harry had tried to control the light pangs of jealousy he was sure would be obvious to anyone who might be watching him, but he couldn't help a certain amount of regret as he watched Cedric and Cho hold hands through most of the meeting, sitting far too close to one another for their relationship to have regressed solely to friendship.

He thought with some agitation of how he and Cho had disagreed over his close friendship with Hermione, who had alternately been watching him throughout the meeting and swiftly averting her eyes when he'd tried to connect with her. Had Cho seen something then, in another life, that was too strong to ignore? He'd never wanted to consider Hermione as more than a friend, but the last few days had changed his perspective on a great deal of his life. Should he leave things the way they were and attempt a real relationship with her?

As she stood to leave the office, last behind the other students, Harry got the urge to beg Hermione to skip class with him, or at least give him a few minutes beforehand. He didn't think he could sit through an hour and a half of Potions with Snape barking orders and insulting him openly as usual while Hermione was upset with him. When all was said and done, he had to know she wouldn't hate him. The last thing he wanted to do was lose her friendship. Before he could reach the door, a strong hand clamped over his arm and forcibly pulled him back.

"A word, son?"

Irritated at Snape's use of the term, Harry turned and faced him, a frown etched on his face. "Professor?" He glanced down at Snape's hand on his arm and he released Harry, a faint smile crossing his face.

Harry was about to question this, when Snape looked over Harry's shoulder and said, "He'll be joining you in a few minutes, Miss Granger. There's no need to wait."

The moment the door closed behind Hermione, another mood pervaded the room. The tension in the air settled on Harry like a suffocating weight. He began to dread this second confrontation of the day, bound to be more intense now that they were assured privacy. Harry backed away a few steps and leaned against the side of one chair. His chest was suddenly tight, his lungs struggling to take in air. After a few seconds, the sensation passed and he looked across the room to Snape who had resumed his seat behind the desk.

"Potter," he said in a quiet voice, "I want you to tell me how you did it."

Barely a beat passed before Harry responded. "Did what?"

The black eyes narrowed on his and Harry braced himself for another attempt at Legilimency on Snape's part. When that didn't come, he let his body relax a bit. He was nowhere near out of the mess he'd fallen into, but the more he held Snape off, the easier it would be to get out unharmed. Harry didn't hold out much hope for that. Few things in his life so far had been simple.

"How did you get to school yesterday? I understand there was...a situation that prevented you from boarding the train."

It was then Harry realized what he was doing. Snape was speaking as if someone else were in the room listening, or as if someone could be recording his words. If Harry hadn't known it was impossible to use recording devices on Hogwarts grounds, he would've thought Snape was protecting himself against possible bugs in his office. More likely he was trying to draw Harry into a trap, forcing him to reveal information about what had happened the previous morning at King's Cross Station.

"Professor, do we really have to discuss this now? I would hate to be late for my favorite class. You know how much I love Potions." Harry followed this lie with a smile. He knew baiting Snape was probably a mistake, but he'd rather face the man's irritation than his questions. He was getting far too close to guessing that Harry hadn't been at the station the previous morning, at least, not in the way Snape thought. That is, if he hadn't guessed it already.

Harry had always had trouble hiding things from Snape, even when the man's suspicions led him down the wrong path. He had an uncanny knack for knowing when Harry was lying, which, he now recognized, was because he'd possibly been reading his mind since first year. Still, his instincts were finely tuned and not to be underestimated. The last thing Harry needed, to spare his life if nothing else, was for Snape to somehow guess even part of the truth.

Harry thought he detected a faint gleam of malice in the black eyes before Snape responded. "I don't believe your professor will have a problem if you are a few minutes late. I'll see to it." Another faint smile appeared before he said, "I want answers from you. You never struck me as the type who could master any form of Dark Magic, or evade it if the time came." Snape leaned back and steepled his fingers in front of his stomach; his elbows rested on the arms of the chair.

"Yesterday and this morning you managed something rather difficult for someone of your age and mediocre skill. I don't believe for a minute you got away yesterday unscathed." With that, Snape gestured to Harry's forehead and the lightning bolt scar that was visible just beneath his hair. His eyes narrowed. "I want to know what you did. You will not leave this office without giving me answers."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't done anything wrong," Harry said. He took a quick step backward and stumbled as his foot collided with another chair. Snape waved his wand offhandedly and cleared the room of extra chairs, leaving two against the far wall of his office.

"No one is accusing you of any wrongdoing--" He stopped in mid-sentence and glanced up as the door to his office opened. Harry turned and breathed a sigh of relief as Professor McGonagall stepped into the office.

"I apologize for interrupting you Severus, but I need--Oh!" She jumped and offered a shaky smile. "Hello Mr. Potter. E-enjoying your first day back?"

Harry smiled. He'd never wanted to hug the older woman before, but he couldn't help the sudden bloom of affection he felt now. "Very much, Professor. If you need to speak with Professor Snape, I'll just go on to class. I'd hate to be late." Harry smiled over his shoulder and ran out of the office before Snape could stop him. He slipped down the hall and into the Potions classroom, offering thanks to anyone listening to his thoughts that he had escaped facing interrogation alone with Snape. For now.

"Are you sure you'll be needing the entire bottle, Minerva? Most interrogations don't require such a large amount," Snape drawled, studying her from behind his propped hands. He had relaxed back into his chair after Harry left, an unreadable expression on his face as the Headmistress made her request.

McGonagall smiled, having regained her composure since running into Harry minutes before. "I believe this will be sufficient. I'll return whatever I don't use as soon as possible. I know how difficult it is to procure Veritaserum."

"Don't trouble yourself, Minerva," Snape responded. "I have another bottle."

"Why is that, Severus?" she asked. She regretted the question almost immediately as the unnerving smile widened on the pale face.

"In case of emergency," he said. He surveyed her carefully. "You never know when answers will be...difficult to come by." The corners of his mouth quirked up before his face settled into its usual sober expression. "My resourcefulness seems to have served you well today."

McGonagall nodded and thanked him, exiting his office quickly. She wondered how often he'd slipped the heavily regulated potion to students without their knowledge. She quickly dismissed the thought from her mind. Albus had vouched for his trustworthiness years ago and Severus Snape had given no one cause to doubt him since then. The man's cool manner not withstanding, there was no reason he could not be given the benefit of the doubt where student safety was concerned.

Harry hurried across the Potions classroom and slipped into the seat next to Hermione before anyone else could sit in front of that cauldron. He heard her sigh heavily and ignored it as he placed a hand over her wrist on the table. "We need to talk."

"Later," she whispered.

"You said you don't want me to run away," Harry began, "but you can't fault me for not giving you an explanation if you keep pushing me away."

Wide brown eyes met his. "That's not fair, Harry. You--" She stopped when Draco sat on Harry's other side. Not paying the two any attention, he began searching through his bag before pulling out his textbook. "We'll talk about this later, Harry. You know where."

She pulled her arm away from him then, reaching into her bag to pull out her own supplies. After watching her a moment, Harry began doing the same, marveling that this version of himself was far more organized than he was used to being. Hermione's influence, he supposed. Harry would never forget her brilliant idea of giving him and Ron talking homework journals for Christmas.

"I'm sorry," he said again, drawing Draco's attention. The blonde raised his eyebrows in question and Harry shook his head, watching Hermione as she opened her textbook to the first chapter. She wasn't fooling him one bit. If he knew her at all, he could be sure she'd studied half the spells in the book already, if only so Snape wouldn't pick on her the first day. If that was the case, Harry felt she was wasting her time. Snape wasn't the kind to take mercy on anyone once they were in his sights and he seemed to be in rare form today.

A cold feeling settled in his stomach as he heard the door to the class open and close in the back, followed by the light click of heels across the stone floor. Stepfather or not, Harry didn't expect any favoritism. It would probably be worse, he reasoned. Snape would expect him to be better than everyone in the class because it would be a reflection on him. Harry closed his eyes and began mentally preparing himself to sit through an hour and a half of Snape at his condescending best. The feel of long, sharp nails sliding over his scalp forced his eyes open.

"Hello Harry," a low, raspy voice said. "How's my other favorite nephew?"

Harry turned and nearly fell off his stool as Bellatrix Lestrange leaned over him, a chilling grin touching her thin lips. She ruffled his hair a bit before straightening, letting her fingers play at his neck. "I missed you at dinner last night. I overheard Miss Granger informing the Headmistress that you weren't feeling well. I trust you're better today?" she asked, renewing her smile for him as if they shared a secret.

Harry felt a revulsion so strong, it rivaled only the nausea he'd felt as he'd watched Snape kiss his mother earlier. He could only hope the way she'd referred to him was an unfortunate nickname. He watched Bellatrix's other hand drift to Draco's shoulder before he answered.
"I--I'm a little better, I suppose. Still not a hundred percent." He couldn't help the way his voice dwindled into a reedy note in the cool dungeon room. The last time he'd seen this woman, she'd been attempting to torture him. When he thought of all the people she'd hurt--including Neville's parents--he shuddered to consider who had to be bribed to get her a job around helpless students.

She smiled again and gave his hair one last caress before releasing him. "Perhaps today's lesson can help you with that." Bellatrix gave Draco's shoulder a squeeze before she made her way to the front of the classroom and pointed her wand at the chalk, which rose from where it rested in front of the board and wrote the words "Draught of Peace."

Harry sighed in relief. Though the potion was difficult, he'd already learned from his mistakes attempting to make it for Snape and knew he could handle this first assignment without a problem. He was also happy Hogwarts hadn't sunk low enough to allow Bellatrix and other Death Eaters to teach students how to torture and poison each other. Though, not having attended his other classes yet, he had no idea how true that was. He wouldn't put it past any of them to begin training students too young to know any better.

"What do you mean, 'he seemed the same', Minerva?"

The Headmistress frowned up at Dumbledore in his frame, her arms crossed before her. "Don't look at me as if I've lost all my senses, Albus. I know you said he may be someone else in disguise, but I'm telling you, there's no way any spell could recreate those eyes--his soul--oh, I don't know what I'm going on about," she said, waving one hand absently. "It was just a feeling I got. With the exception of a scratch on his forehead, he appears to be the same child we've known for years."

Dumbledore sat silently for a moment and, again, she wondered if he had left the portrait and would step into her office. "I had hoped you could be objective about this."

"Where does objectivity fit into it?" she replied, her voice rising in pitch. "I'd hate to think of any of these students in danger, even less that this person is capable of inflicting a horrible disease that cannot be cured by modern means. I would like to believe there is another explanation for it, that is all."

"Would you like me to send Aurors in to do the questioning? If you don't feel you can handle--"

"Of course I can handle it, Albus!" she snapped, her eyes narrowing on the portrait before her. "I will do everything I can to help the Ministry find out what is going on, I just wish there was some other method. Are you sure the child in the hospital is Harry Potter? You mentioned extensive injuries."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "As he was just barely conscious, it was quite easy to read his thoughts. That is something a mere charm could not disguise. They were slightly muddled because of his physical state, but I am sure it was Harry I saw this morning. Please, talk to this other person."

McGonagall reached for the box of ginger cookies on the corner of her desk, prying it open with trembling fingers. She opened the bottle of Veritaserum and poured it liberally over the treats in the box, watching as the cookies absorbed the liquid quickly and silently.

"Perhaps a quick cup of tea to settle my nerves first, Albus. I have to be careful how I go about this."

Dumbledore made no objection as she settled behind her desk and conjured a cup from the Hogwarts kitchens. He knew, after all, that her interrogation of the person imitating a boy they knew and cared for was the best chance they had of getting at the truth without suspicion.

Harry pored over his cauldron, stirring it the requisite number of times before scanning his Potions book for the instructions to add the next ingredient. He felt her eyes on him again and looked up to find Bellatrix smiling in his direction, her dark gaze traveling over his features before she returned to where she'd been watching Neville struggle through the beginning steps of the potion's preparation. She murmured to the other boy encouragingly and smiled as he appeared to do better under her instructions.

Catching Hermione's gaze out of the corner of his eye, Harry returned to his classwork, his mind on anything but the task in front of him. There seemed a simple explanation for the undue attention--Snape was having his fellow Death Eater keep an eye on Harry, the attention on his activities he'd been promised. Still, there was something odd about the way she kept looking at Harry across the classroom, the smile on her face, the way she'd touched him before class had begun.

In a way, it was as if she was attracted--Harry shuddered and blinked rapidly down at his Potions book. There was no way Bellatrix Lestrange felt that way about anyone who wasn't wearing a Dark Mark, least of all someone young enough to be her son. That being the case, why was she staring at him as if she were trying to memorize the placement of every hair on his head? If possible, this was creepier than the faux baby voice she'd used to tease him in the Department of Mysteries. At least he'd been aware of her objective then--to get into his head before she moved in for the kill. Now? Now he couldn't tell down from up where a lot of these people were concerned.

Especially Hermione. She'd gone from hot to cold in a matter of seconds, understanding to fussing before he could even process what she was talking about. At least he'd be able to straighten her out before the day was through. That'd be one less thing he'd have to concern himself with while he attempted to figure out how Snape had landed him in the hospital. That it was Snape, he was absolutely sure. Now that he couldn't figure out how Harry had escaped his fate--though, in actuality, he hadn't--Snape was bound to try again. Harry had to put a stop to all of it before it was too late.

Professor McGonagall's voice broke into Harry's thoughts.

"I hope you don't mind, Bellatrix. I know it's the first day back to lessons, but I must speak with Mr. Potter immediately." Her sharp tones carried throughout the classroom and Harry felt the class's eyes on him as both Bellatrix Lestrange and Minerva McGonagall stopped before his cauldron.

Bellatrix smiled at Harry. "I see no reason why Harry can't join you in your office, Minerva." She peered down at his cauldron. "He seems to be doing well at this lesson. Why don't you attempt to make this potion at another time and turn it in to me before class time on Wednesday, Harry?" Before he could finish nodding, she'd waved her wand over his cauldron and the bubbling potion and fire beneath it both disappeared.

"Potter?" Professor McGonagall said, waving her hand before her. Harry quickly gathered his belongings and shoved them on top of everything else in his bag. As the Headmistress hurried him out of the room, Harry got the strange feeling that instead of saving him as she'd done earlier in Snape's office, now she was doing the exact opposite.