Free Will and Fate

Professor Trelawney could always be counted on to remain the same, whatever else had changed in Harry's world. Almost from the moment he'd climbed up the ladder to her tower-top classroom, he spotted her going from table to table making off the wall predictions, including which students were "in grave danger" or would die a horrific death that year. The sound of the wonky woman in head-to-toe shawls and beads, and even the almost overpowering smell of incense in the warm room was almost a comfort to Harry. At least in this life, her predictions for him could hardly be as ominous as they once were. After all, he'd already evaded death at least twice in the last week. He found himself smiling as the professor Hermione considered the least credible made her way around the room, exclaiming over her returning students in preparation for that day's "mystical and mysterious" lesson.

"I take it you made up."

Harry looked up after Ron addressed him from across the small table, a glint of humor in the other boy's eyes. "I'm sorry?"

"You and Hermione. She looked ready to hex you in History of Magic and you were both missing at lunch." Ron shot him a goofy grin. "From the smile you've got now... I know you needed to calm her down, but one of these days you're going to get caught again. McGonagall was really nuts about those kinds of things at the end of last term."

Harry pretended to study the crystal ball on the stand in the center of the table. "I don't know what you're talking about." He felt his face go warm as Ron's soft laugh carried over to him.

In truth, Harry had no idea how to react. The last thing he'd been doing at lunch was calming Hermione from one of her moods and he felt pretty lucky she hadn't cursed him with something he could never get removed. He thought fleetingly of the bumps Marietta Edgecombe would never be able to get rid of once she'd betrayed the D.A. There was no way he'd end up in her position if he could help it--at the business end of a hex from Hermione.

"Whatever mate," Ron said, turning back to open his copy of The Dream Oracle.

How much did Ron and everyone else know about how close he and Hermione were supposed to be? Normally his private life--what little he had--wouldn't be that widely known. But this was a new life, a new Harry who probably didn't have the attention of the wizarding world on his every move. Now he had to be careful. Though it would obviously hurt her, Harry knew asking Hermione about their relationship would be one of the keys to keeping his mission hidden. The more he appeared the same to Snape and everyone else, the less anyone would pay attention to what Harry feared might be a long-running investigation.

He was glad only a few people had noticed anything different so far. Snape, in spite of the death threats, could be handled. Harry was used to the tactics employed by the man he was growing to hate. On the other hand, McGonagall's attitude had come as a surprise. He should've expected it, he knew she was the school disciplinarian. She was--

"Oh, my dear boy!"

Harry looked up from where he'd been absently gazing in the general direction of the crystal ball to find Professor Trelawney pointing at him. He fought the impulse to smile. Here was his own death omen from the professor, right on time. He shifted in his seat as she began. His eyes widened as she stepped forward and appeared to be pointing right past him.

"Oh dear..." Trelawney said, her voice rising and falling into a soft whisper. Harry turned and saw she was pointing at Neville, who slouched and covered his face with his hands as he sat next to Lavender. Harry knew the feeling. He let a small grin cross his features briefly as Trelawney stepped closer, the bracelets crowding her wrist jangling as she focused her attention on the student behind Harry.

"You are in grave danger," she continued, her eyes wide behind the thick glasses. She slowly walked to Neville and Lavender's table. Her hand went to cover Neville's where it rested and she frowned, shaking her head as she spoke. "I sense a catastrophic event in your future. Someone you love will..." Trelawney paused as if debating her next words. "I cannot say it, it is much too horrific." She closed her eyes. "Tragedy will follow you in abundance this year. You will lose an old friend soon." She patted his hand and opened her eyes, slowly backing from the table. "I fear you will suffer a life-threatening attack before the end of the year. Tell me boy, will you be careful?"

"Yes, Professor," Neville responded mechanically, as if he heard this same prediction all the time.

"Good," she responded. "Though, I do not know what good it will do," she added. "The fates have already decided." She turned from him and gazed around the room again, in search of her next subject. Her gaze settled on Harry and he bounced lightly on his seat, fully prepared to receive the same type of prediction she'd given Neville.

She stopped before him and frowned, her wide brown eyes blurry behind the thick lenses of her glasses. "Harry Potter?" she asked in a clear, flat voice, her head cocked to the side. Suddenly, Harry felt the class's eyes turn to him, undoubtedly drawn by the strange note to the professor's voice as she spoke to him. He was startled himself. He couldn't recall an instance where she'd ever addressed a student by their full name in that tone when making a prediction.

"You," she said slowly, "are a stranger in this life. Your journey here was snatched from the jaws of fate." She paused dramatically. A small tinkle of laughter could be heard from the far side of the room.

There's no way she could really know that, he thought. Harry sank lower onto the puffy bunch of fabric and cushioning she considered an appropriate chair for class. His scar began to tingle. There was nowhere to go, nowhere he could hide as she continued, her normally soft tones rising to be heard over the now silent classroom.

"There is much trouble ahead for you. A deadly illness, an unforgivable mistake..." She took a deep breath and her eyes rolled back into her head. "The one of which we do not speak shall come for you and all who join his enemy in the fight against darkness. He has marked you for a most painful death." As her voice faded on the last word, Trelawney went rigid at the side of Harry's table before falling backwards and collapsing on the floor in a heap of shawls and beads, her eyes wide open but unseeing.

Several students rushed over to her. Lavender was nearly in tears as she reached the woman's side.

"I think she's just unconscious," Lavender said, eyes wide as she looked at her fellow students.

Once more, Harry felt everyone's eyes on him, as if it were his fault their teacher had collapsed in the middle of class. There was a gasp behind him and Harry turned to see Neville shivering as he watched the scene before him, one hand stroking a spot just below his right ear. He turned back to where the professor lay at his feet.

"Maybe someone should get Madam Pomfrey to come up and take a look at her," Harry suggested. A few other students had begun to nod at this when Trelawney suddenly sat up, looking around at the students as if she'd never seen any of them before. Her look of confusion was erased as she stood up and dusted herself off, offering a small smile to the students who asked if she was well.

"There are times when visions from the Beyond overwhelm even those with the power to see and interpret them. There is an abundance of clairvoyant vibrations in the room today. Those of you with the gift of Sight must also be aware." Almost on cue, Parvati and Lavender began nodding quickly.

"I must dismiss all of you from class immediately, so that I may interpret the signs without disturbance," she said, her voice returned to the misty, drawn-out tones.

"So she can get a healing charm for that nasty bump to her head, more like."

Harry acknowledged Ron's comment with a nod, still watching the odd way Professor Trelawney was behaving--odd for her, at least. She was weaving to and fro as she walked across the classroom to her overlarge armchair. She sank down into it with a dramatic flourish of her shawls and settled into the seat with her eyes closed, her arms held straight before her, their shaking causing her bracelets and rings to clank together.

Without opening her eyes, she said, "Students, begin recording your dreams into a journal. This should be done nightly. Read through the beginning chapters of your book for we will begin interpreting the signs from the Beyond at our next meeting." With that, she fell silent, the tinkle of her jewelry the only sound coming from where she sat.

As the students began packing up their belongings, Ron shot Harry a worried look. "What was that about?" he asked.

"Don't know," Harry replied absently. He tore his eyes away from his teacher and groped for his bag under the table. He realized he'd never bothered unpacking it.

"Seriously mental, that woman. First she gives you one of the creepiest predictions I've ever heard." Harry looked up in time to see Ron roll his eyes. "Honestly, it's bad enough for Neville to lose his parents the way he did," Ron motioned behind them and Harry looked over to see Lavender holding Neville's hand firmly as they made their way to the ladder that dropped to the tower landing and steps. "The old bat can't resist bringing You-Know-Who into the conversation at least once a year. Imagine how hard it was for him to hear another student might get his rotten luck. A death sentence courtesy of a dark wizard no one's heard from in years!"

Harry blinked in surprise as he shouldered his bag. Neville's parents had been attacked by Voldemort? At least he wasn't currently attacking anyone. "So, you believe her?"

"Look, I'm not saying she's in her right mind. You know what she's like." Ron cast a glance over to their professor who was weaving slowly from side to side in her chair, jewelry clinking as she swayed. "But she has gotten a few things right over the years. Like when Neville broke his leg trying out for Quidditch second year or when he and Lavender kissed in the middle of the Yule Ball and McGonagall had to practically pull them apart. She just has this way of making most things sound so..."

"Ominous," Harry supplied.

"Right. Makes it hard to believe anything she says. At least you've got one thing going for you," Ron said as they neared the door.

"What's that?"

"When she says someone's in danger, she's only right about half the time. Most of the time, she's only got a decent read on The Boy Who Lived."

Harry tried to smile at Ron's comment, but he couldn't force it. He knew that a prediction of danger for him, even from someone as dubious as Professor Trelawney, had a better than fifty percent chance of being correct. With his sketchy knowledge of the events that had taken place on his way to school yesterday, he knew the odds were much higher on Trelawney being right this time. Especially if she was tuned into anyone who had been a target of Voldemort.