Free Will and Fate

"Help? From the Ministry?" Harry glanced at Hermione as he repeated McGonagall's words. His confusion was mirrored on her face.

McGonagall cleared her throat. "The Minister feels it is important to find proof of this person's wrongdoings so things may be returned to their rightful order." She stared at Harry over her glasses. He blinked rapidly and looked away, suddenly sure she could read the guilt in his eyes.

Professor McGonagall drummed her fingers on the top of her desk, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Minister Dumbledore may also be available to meet with you later this week. He too found it interesting that you were seeking him out instead of boarding the train to school."

Hermione's fingers clenched around Harry's in support. Somehow, he'd known it would come back to King's Cross Station. He still had no way of proving to the Ministry or anyone else that he hadn't been responsible for the attack and he was sure he was no closer to convincing Professor McGonagall that he wouldn't be a threat to the school. In spite of her offer of help, he wasn't fooling himself that she was any closer to believing him than she had been when he'd left her office the day before.

The only difference was that Dumbledore had gotten involved. He noticed that the portrait behind McGonagall's desk wasn't moving, the normally bright, penetrating eyes still as Harry stared at it. It was different, he knew that now. Harry silently thanked the older wizard for interfering in what he knew could've been a one-way trip to Azkaban. He looked at Hermione. At least he didn't have to handle any of this alone.

"What do you think?" he asked Hermione. Before she could respond, McGonagall cut her off.

"I think you'd better consider this a definite plan rather than an offer, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, her cheeks creasing around a deep frown. "I'm afraid you have very few alternatives besides cooperation with us. I don't have to tell you what one alternative may be."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

"She's right, Harry." He turned to Hermione. "There isn't a better alternative than working with the Ministry. At least you know he'll--" Hermione stopped and looked at the Headmistress. "I mean--"

"I know the Ministry means well," Harry started, "but if he sees anyone around me to protect me, I'm sure that would do more harm than good. If I don't act natural, he might try to hurt me again. I'm almost positive of it."

McGonagall smiled. "A professor? On school grounds? I had trouble enough believing your story yesterday without any proof. But now that you no longer have to tell the truth..."

"He hasn't taken the antidote yet," Hermione said quietly, squeezing Harry's fingers again.

Their Headmistress raised both eyebrows in surprise. "Is that right?" She studied the two students in front of her desk for a long moment, arms crossed in front of her chest. "You didn't feel you could trust me?"

Closing his eyes, Harry said slowly, "You don't understand. I can't trust anyone." He opened his eyes again. "Except Hermione."

"Mr. Potter, you must--" McGonagall began at the same time Hermione said, "Harry, we need the help."

His eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them. He nodded before either could continue what they'd been about to say; both were on the same track anyway. "Professor, we'll try to give you as much information as we can to prove his guilt, but you can't ask me to identify him just yet."

That statement was met with a short, disbelieving laugh. "I assure you, Mr. Potter, I can get whatever information I like. I am doing you the courtesy of asking at this juncture. See that I don't regret this approach at a later time." McGonagall's voice was undoubtedly cold, but her eyes were unreadable as she ended the brief meeting.

Harry was taken aback at her sudden abrupt manner, but nodded as he and Hermione stood. "I'll do my best to get information to you. Would you like me to meet you?"

"A parchment with your findings will suffice," McGonagall responded. "If you do find that you need protection from the Ministry, then you have my permission to visit this office." She leaned one hand on the desk and caught Harry's eye. "But know that I will not get the Ministry further involved and disrupt this school unless you are willing to give that professor's name. We cannot proceed further without it. Trust will have to be given both ways, Mr. Potter. Or I will take whatever action I deem necessary."

Harry nodded and exited the office with Hermione, thoughts of how he could request help with the time turner and not give the Ministry cause to arrest him at the same time swirling around his head until he knew he had to give up the entire subterfuge as a lost cause.

Seconds after Hermione sat on the stone bench, Harry lay down beside her, his feet dangling off the side as he reclined beneath the tree. They'd hurried through lunch so they could go outside and talk without threat of being overheard, not that Harry felt much like talking. He had picked at his food, a new worry that he would end up in Azkaban making his stomach churn so much he had resorted to turning away from the table full of food as Hermione hurriedly finished her lunch. By the time she'd picked up her bag, it was taking everything in him to fight off the dizziness and the impending headache he knew would disrupt his entire afternoon. Now, with the cool stone of the bench against his neck and fresh air blowing over his flushed face, he calmed a bit. Harry took several deep breaths in succession before opening his eyes to find Hermione watching him, worry clouding her gaze.

"I'm going to be fine," he said. "You don't have to worry."

She bit the corner of her bottom lip and sighed. "I'm never going to stop worrying, Harry. Professor McGonagall--I've never seen her so angry. I don't think this whole Ministry idea was what she wanted at all."

"I know," Harry responded. "She was upset with me yesterday as well, but I thought it was because she thought I was dangerous. She could've had me arrested if she was still worried, but she didn't." He closed his eyes again. "I thought when she offered me the antidote this morning, she was starting to trust me."

"Maybe Dumbledore forced her to," Hermione suggested. "If that's the case, you should still be careful around her. How do we know that vial even has a real antidote?"

"I'm sure it was. She acted like I might have been lying because I'd already taken it. Which reminds me, I'm sure you can give it back to me now."

Hermione sucked air in through her teeth impatiently and Harry opened his eyes to take in her frustrated expression. "I'll give it back to you when I'm sure it's safe and no sooner." Harry began to sit up, the beginning of an argument on his lips. "Draco!" Before Harry could ask what she meant, she scooted closer to him on the bench and forced him back down, his head now resting in her lap. Harry turned to see the Slytherin making his way alone across the courtyard in long strides.

"Wonderful," Harry said. "How do I avoid him again? Be alone with you?"

"Play along." With that, Hermione placed one hand on Harry's chest and the other on the back of his head, running her fingers through the soft strands. Draco stepped up to them a few seconds later.

"Hermione." He nodded.

She offered a small smile. "Draco. Getting off to a good start?"

"Not as well as you, I'm sure. Already gotten 20 extra points for your House, I heard."

She shrugged, one hand still playing with Harry's hair. She had never liked small-talk with Harry's best friend, liked it even less after hearing a few of Harry's stories about Draco and his friends teasing her for 5 years. It was in another life, true, but his personality now wasn't so far from the Draco this Harry was used to. He and his gang just directed their childish behavior towards younger students and those in their year who weren't Harry's friends. Hermione smiled suddenly as a thought occurred to her. She would be willing to pay to see a teacher turn him into a ferret.

When Hermione didn't say anything else and Harry didn't open his eyes or speak up, Draco asked, "Do you mind if um...if I talk to Harry alone?"

"I can't," Harry said.

"He isn't feeling well," Hermione put in, stroking his hair slowly as she looked down at his face. "I could barely get him to eat, but I think the fresh air will make him feel better." She caught Draco's eye and smiled, an idea forming. "But if you'd like to stay and talk, I'm sure it wouldn't tax him too much. He'll probably be heading up to his room for a nap soon anyway. Unless it can wait?"

Draco was surprised by Hermione's pushiness, and didn't say anything as he waited for Harry to overrule her. When he said nothing, Draco finally responded. "Harry, I had hoped we could finish what we'd started talking about before breakfast yesterday."

"Professor Snape's parchment?" Hermione supplied before Harry could respond.

At Draco's silence, Harry said, "You can talk in front of her."

"I...well, I can't say I'm not surprised." Draco dropped his bag to the ground and lowered himself to sit on it, close enough to the bench that Harry could smell the cologne he'd practically bathed in that morning. "I thought you didn't want to tell Hermione anything because everyone who knows might be in danger."

"I'd trust Hermione with my life," Harry said simply. He was glad he hadn't taken the antidote now. He wanted her to know he was telling the truth when he made statements like that. He had to give someone his complete trust and it certainly wasn't going to be the blonde boy sitting before him, struggling over what to say.

"I suppose it's good you've got another person to confide in. As long as you feel she can be relied on."

Harry resisted the temptation to open his eyes again and fix Draco with his best glare. The lofty tone to his voice hadn't gone unnoticed, if Hermione flexing her hand into a fist briefly was any indication, but there was nothing Harry could do about the subtle insults to her right now. He'd find a way to fix Draco later.

"Is there something specific you wanted to talk about, Draco? Hermione's right, I don't feel well."

Draco cleared his throat. "I--well, fine. How much have you told her?"

Hermione's fist clenched in Harry's hair again and he gasped. Draco had spoken as if she weren't there again and if he hadn't been laying across her lap, Harry was sure she would've pulled out her wand and hexed him just to prove she was worthy of his respect. Not that she needed to prove it to him. Harry took a deep breath.

"Draco, I've told her as much as I could of everything before this past weekend," Harry said in a tired voice. "If you feel she needs to know more details to follow the conversation, say it. To her."

"Fine," he said, petulance coloring his voice as he raised his eyes to Hermione.

She continued stroking Harry's hair, it was the only thing keeping her calm enough to not say what she was really thinking to Draco.

"You're aware of what's been going on between Professor Snape and Harry's mother, I assume." Draco continued after Hermione's nod. "At my house a couple of weeks ago, we overheard my father telling Professor Snape to keep all of the documents safe from prying eyes, especially the Key. There have been too many questions. Professor Snape said he would lock up the parchment in his vault once Hogwarts letters had gone out and the Magical Law Enforcement inspectors stopped checking wizards going into Gringott's. He figured there would be too many people in and out of the bank for the Ministry to keep someone at the door. That right so far, Harry?"

Hermione said, "Yes" before Harry could respond.

"My father convinced him to wait a little longer, to be sure the Ministry wouldn't be monitoring deposits around the same time. Do I really need to repeat all of this if you've already heard it?"

"Yes," Harry and Hermione said at the same time. "Doesn't hurt to make sure we haven't forgotten anything," Harry added.

"After realizing that the document could be valuable, Harry was supposed to sneak into the office at his house, find the parchment, and break any charm on it before he gave it to his mother." Draco paused. "I really just wanted to know what my father was up to. They've been going over those papers for weeks and he won't tell my mother anything."

At this, Harry risked a sideways look at Draco. The boy looked and sounded worried. Perhaps this Draco was a little smarter than the one he'd left behind. He didn't come off as excited or boastful about what his father could be capable of. Nor was he particularly condemning.

"You did get the parchment?" Draco asked, his voice soft.

"We haven't been able to remove the protections on it yet," Hermione began, "but I told Harry I'd get it done this weekend. I'm researching counter spells. Can you hold off asking about it till then?"

Draco looked at Harry for a confirmation of this, but he just lay still as Hermione continued to stroke his hair. After a long pause, he said, "Fine. I'll get back to you, both of you, Sunday."

"See you then," Harry said as Draco stood and brushed off the bottom of his robes. Hermione said nothing as he picked up his books and walked away, waiting until he had gone back into the building before she stopped touching Harry's hair and began drumming her fingers across his chest in agitation.

"Go on. Say it. I know you're dying to."

"Don't trust him, Harry. He's not worth risking your life."

No lectures. No intrusive questions. Just the straight truth from the girl who knew him best. Harry was starting to really like this Hermione.

He sat up from the bench and stretched. "Does that answer enough questions about this parchment I was supposed to go after?"

Hermione nodded, lost in thought. "I've got to send something from the Owlery. It's a long shot, but I think I may know what the parchment is. Maybe. MLE inspectors looking for it," she mumbled. She turned to focus on Harry. "If you have it in your trunk, bring it with you to the Room of Requirement tonight and we'll try to remove the protections. If I'm right, we could be onto something much bigger than you realize."

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Harry found himself smiling as he stood. "When are you not right, Hermione?"

Surprised at his comment, she smiled back. "I'm sure it'll happen one day." Reaching down for her bag, she said, "So, I'll meet you at dinner?"

"What about Herbology? Don't tell me your grades were so high they refuse to let you take it anymore."

She laughed and a blush suffused her cheeks. "I wish. I was actually going to skip so I could go through those books from the library. You've got them under your bed?"

He nodded. "We could look at them before class. It shouldn't take the next hour for you to send one letter. Skipping class the first day of an O.W.L. year? I'm starting to wonder if I've been a bad influence on you all these years."

Hermione shrugged. "With all the running around I did third year, I passed out a couple of times." Harry stopped walking and stared at her. "I'm fine," she assured him. "But any time I don't feel well, I tell Madam Pomfrey and she informs my teachers that I can't come to class because my 'delicate constitution' is acting up again." She grinned. "She refuses to give me potions to force me to stay awake. Says that was what enabled me third year. Came in handy the week before exams when I needed to catch up on sleep."

Harry reached for the door that opened into the corridor. He shook his head as Hermione stepped past him. "Honestly, woman. I feel like I have no idea who you are," he said, chuckling.

A small tinkle of laughter came to him from over her shoulder. "You'll have plenty of time to find out."

When they reached the Great Hall, Hermione turned and leaned towards Harry, her arms outstretched, licking her lips as she reached for him. Just before her lips were close enough to touch his, Hermione paused, letting her eyes go over his face slowly, finally coming to rest on his scar. She pulled up short and blushed, breath catching, and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder before she gave Harry a light hug and stepped back.

"If you get into the books before class, make sure you take good notes," she said without meeting his eyes. Hermione walked away before Harry could respond.

As he watched her disappear into the crowd of students headed upstairs, Harry realized two things. The reason she had been acting natural around him was because she felt like he was still the same Harry she'd known and there were very few moments when she remembered otherwise. The other realization: he wanted to be the boy she'd known, if only to experience what it felt like to have a girl look at him the way she had and know he felt the same way about her.