Free Will and Fate

"Your findings are absolute?" Dumbledore's eyes narrowed as he watched Healers Strout and Cummings fumbling through the paperwork containing their current diagnosis. From the moment he'd stepped into the closed ward, he'd known Harry's condition was more serious than they'd first suspected, but he had no idea the magnitude of what the young man was facing. It had undoubtedly been a serious case when James was diagnosed with the illness nearly a decade before, but everyone who'd been involved then had been under the impression that the length of time it had taken to determine anything was seriously wrong had contributed to the disease's spread. Now, it seemed, there was just as little hope as there had been for James, if the determinations so far proved true.

Healer Strout nodded as she came to the page they'd been searching for. "We've measured the results very carefully since you last checked in, Minister. Every time we give the patient a potion that might alleviate any of the symptoms--fever, coughing, even the brief nightmares--the symptoms seem to increase in intensity for several hours, longer each time if we increase the dosage. If we do not treat any of it, the symptoms remain steady, but do not disappear altogether. The disease is--"

"Completely resistant to cure. That is the true nature of this curse," Dumbledore added. "Any attempt to cure it will result in the patient dying faster and in more pain than he was already in. Is that the whole of it?"

"Yes," Healer Cummings said. "Although, I find it surprising that we had no trouble curing his superficial physical wounds. There were no apparent side effects from healing his bones or bruises."

"Those were not caused by this curse," Dumbledore supplied, though he did not need to. Both Healers knew just as much, or as little, about this disease as he did. It seemed there was little to do now but wait for Harry to die...or come up with a cure that might do nothing but kill him faster. He nodded at both Healers as he left the ward for the Ministry.

The moment she felt the air in the office change, McGonagall resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She'd been rid of Dumbledore's "help" for nearly two days and had managed to convince herself that he would let her handle the Potter situation without interference for a little while. She was at the point where she wondered how he got anything done at his job since he was paying so much attention to how she was doing hers.

McGonagall finished her conversation with Angelina Johnson about the Quidditch team tryouts and dismissed the student from her office. Without turning around, she said, "Yes?"

"More information has come to light and I will be taking immediate action."

McGonagall turned quickly to face the portrait, alarm crossing her features. "Don't tell me Harry's died."

"No, though I fear his condition is more serious than we had first suspected." Dumbledore cleared his throat and spoke slowly, his voice weary. "At present rate, the Healers say he will live only a few more months without a cure. This is only an estimate, of course."

She was silent as she considered this. Even if they were able to find his attacker, it could already be too late. "What has happened that requires action from the Ministry?" she asked finally.

"I have gotten reports from the Department of Mysteries and the Improper Use of Magic Office regarding events that occurred this past Sunday. Their findings worry me. I am going to station an Auror at Hogwarts tonight until such time that the situation is resolved."

Dumbledore spoke with such conviction, McGonagall almost chided herself for questioning his authority. She did, however, expect to be consulted rather than informed about what would be taking place at the school. "Well? What is this information that has you so concerned?"

"For the time being," he responded, "it is best that you do not know exactly what has happened. It will only cause you undue worry."

She crossed her arms in front of her and glared at the man in the portrait. "Albus, the entire situation is worrisome. It could not possibly get any worse. How will I explain an Auror patrolling the school if this unnamed professor is not to become suspicious?"

"Harry still has not trusted you with the name? It is just as well," Dumbledore said. "I am of the opinion that Mr. Potter's story will prove interesting once it all comes to light. The Auror will investigate our young wizard as well as scrutinize the professors at her will. I hope this will relieve some of the worry and burden from you."

It would do nothing of the sort, but McGonagall raised no further objection. It would be useless. Truthfully, she just longed for the Minister to admit she had been right to be suspicious of Potter from the first. About as likely as Sybill Trelawney giving an honest prediction.

"She will be my eyes and ears around the school and provide you with daily reports should you require them."

"Of course," McGonagall said. "Is there a reason she will be investigating Potter as well? I thought you trusted him."

Dumbledore hesitated. "He has some explaining to do. He will do it personally." His tone brooked no argument. "I will be at Hogwarts sometime this weekend. In the meantime, Auror Tonks will enter the school as an Improper Use of Magic official who shall be searching the school for a list of dangerous objects that went missing just before school started."

"That excuse seems a bit thin, Albus. If a murderer were suspicious that Potter or anyone else is on to him--"

"She will be discreet," Dumbledore said, interrupting. "She knows the seriousness of her mission and will act only under my strictest instructions. Can you make sure the staff makes her feel welcome? I would like it if all of the Professors know immediately that someone from the Ministry is watching. Perhaps we can flush the culprit out."

"I don't think that's a good idea," McGonagall said. "If we antagonize or corner him, he is likely to strike again. Harry's life, not to mention that of the other students, is in danger. I will not permit--"

"Excuse me, Minerva, but I am not giving you a choice."

She stopped speaking at his words and stared at his portrait, her agitation growing.

"This is no longer merely a matter of school security. The Ministry will take every step necessary to handle the situation, with or without your permission." When she said nothing, he added, "Expect Auror Tonks just before dinner. Kindly inform the staff before that time."

There was no way he could do it. Harry sat on the edge of his bed repeating his new mantra to himself as the thoughts tried to force their way back into his consciousness. I can't kiss Hermione. I can't date Hermione. I will not sleep with Hermione. It was silly. Nothing like these thoughts had ever entered his mind in all the time that he'd known her, but having her all over him the other night (unconsciously and uninhibited) had awoken something Harry thought best stamped out before it came into fruition.

She was a friend. They'd saved each other's lives, lied and cried and gotten detention together. She knew his deepest insecurities and sometimes knew things he didn't want to admit to himself. There was no way they could be more than friends. She would use it to her advantage. Order him around. Fuss about everything he did. Inject her opinion and mark on everything of importance in his daily life. Oh hell, Harry thought. She's already done that.

But this was different. Another life. A life-threatening situation. They'd gone through those before and came through it as nothing more than friends. Then he'd started to enjoy the way she was kissing him and his friendly thoughts were all for naught. Was this how it had happened to the other Harry? One minute she was helping with his homework, the next she was pulling his hair and moaning his name?

Harry ran a sweaty palm down the front of his pants leg. If that was all it took, he was already gone. After the craziness with Cho--the crying, the insecurity, the sneaking suspicion that she wished he were someone else--it was nice to be with someone who really wanted him. Someone who looked at him like her world was in his eyes. Someone who cared for him like her life would end if he wasn't in it. Someone who wanted to connect with him like she wouldn't be complete until she had. It was no wonder crazy thoughts were going through his head. She was giving him something he was beginning to think he'd never have.

But was she the right person to get it from? Maybe he could like being with Hermione. Maybe he could even love her one day. (Assuming he didn't die in the next few months.) But could he do all that without her driving him crazy? Was it worth trying? Or would not knowing drive him crazy faster? He sighed. He didn't think she'd give him a chance to figure it out for himself.

"Harry!" A hand waved in front of his face and Harry jumped, startled as Ron laughed. "You all right? I've been calling you for a couple of minutes."

Harry nodded, glad he could now lie. He loosened his tie and slipped it off, tossing it onto the bed. "Did you need something?"

"Hermione's waiting for you downstairs," he said. "I know it's none of my business, but you guys didn't have another fight, did you?" Ron shrugged as Harry looked at him. "You've both been acting a little weird for a couple of days. Since," Ron's ears started to turn red, "the night you didn't sleep here," he said in a low voice.

Harry shrugged one shoulder and looked away from Ron. Neither Seamus nor Neville was paying them any attention as they dumped their books and headed down to dinner. He hadn't realized anyone had noticed him slipping into the room early that morning. He'd made a point of getting showered, dressed and going for a walk on the grounds before anyone woke up. He'd needed to be alone with this thoughts, not that it had made anything any clearer.

"We--something happened the other night." Harry began to wish desperately that Ron was still his best friend. He couldn't tell just anyone what had happened, what he was thinking. He met Ron's eyes again. "I don't think I can talk about it," Harry said quietly. He knew he looked sad just then, but he couldn't help the longing to confide in the one person he used to be able to tell everything.

"No, I understand," Ron said. "If you ever want to, you know..."

Harry nodded but said nothing as the other boy went downstairs, leaving him alone in their dorm, second-guessing everything he thought he knew about his relationship with his best friend.

Hermione said nothing to Harry after he'd come downstairs. They put their arms around each other in casual silence and made their way to the Entrance Hall. Before they could get inside the Great Hall, Hermione pulled Harry outside the flow of students. As Harry watched her expression change from stoic to confused, he began to dread what was coming.

"Harry, is something wrong?"

He frowned. "You mean besides that my stepfather tried to kill me and in a few months or weeks or even days, he will have succeeded? Other than that, no, nothing. I don't have a care in the world."

"That's not what I mean," she said. "With us. You've been acting...have I done something wrong?" Her voice dropped lower and Harry had to lean closer to hear her over the chatter of the other students. "When we woke up yesterday morning, you said it was just that we'd fallen asleep. I assumed that we were close together on the couch, but..." She turned wide eyes up to him, willing him to fill in the blank.

"Your virtue is still intact. Don't worry."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "That's not what I meant!"

"Mr. Potter? Miss Granger?" They both turned to face Professor McGonagall. "A word?"

Without sparing Hermione a glance, Harry walked across the Entrance Hall to where the Headmistress stood waiting.

"The time has come, Mr. Potter." When Harry stared at her, confused, she continued. "The Ministry has sent someone to collect the answers you've neglected to give thus far." McGonagall motioned to a woman who was a little ways down the short hall behind McGonagall. She was short and thin, with a young face Harry didn't recognize but felt was familiar all the same. She stood in the hall as Professor Quirrell spoke to her animatedly, a bored expression on her face.

"If you don't tell me the name of the professor immediately, I have instructions to turn you over to her to do as she sees fit. Interrogations or otherwise."

Harry hesitated. "Is there any way I can--?"

"The time for negotiations has long since passed," McGonagall said. "It's now or your freedom, Mr. Potter."

Hermione touched his arm. "Harry."

"Is there a problem?"

Harry barely kept himself from jumping in place as Snape approached. Hermione was visibly shaken by his sudden appearance, but covered it by clinging to Harry's arm and leaning onto his shoulder.

McGonagall glanced at Hermione strangely for a moment before turning to Snape. "Not at all, Severus. Harry and I were just discussing--"

"Quidditch tryouts," Harry said. "I wasn't sure of the date for my House and I haven't seen a notice posted yet."

"No, I suppose you haven't," McGonagall said. Her eyes narrowed on his face, but she continued speaking in a normal tone. "Miss Johnson and I discussed it just this morning. I believe she intends to hold tryouts tomorrow. I am not clear on the time, but the notice should be posted after dinner."

Harry nodded. "I'm looking forward to it."

Snape cocked his head at an angle and smiled slightly. "Quidditch? Really? I didn't think you had an athletic bone in your body, Harry."

"I like to think I got all of my father's best traits," Harry said, looking his stepfather in the eye.

Snape nodded. "I suppose we'll see if you turn out just like James before long," he said. "You certainly have shown a flair for dramatic performances in my class lately. Good luck tomorrow." With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off into the Great Hall at a brisk walk, stark black robes billowing behind him.

"Mr. Potter--"

"He's going to kill Harry, Professor," Hermione said. They both turned to her. She squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry Harry, but she has to know. Professor Snape--" Her voice cracked on the name, but she didn't need to finish the statement. The tension between them had been enough to give McGonagall a hint of what Harry was up against.

After a few moments Harry asked, "Do you understand now why I couldn't say anything?"

For a minute, McGonagall stood there, tension radiating from the stiff way she tapped her foot to the way her eyes narrowed to black slits behind her glasses. "I understand a great deal more than you know, Mr. Potter." Her voice was low, but it communicated an anger Harry had never seen McGonagall demonstrate before. The power that seemed to be emanating from her now felt dangerous and Harry was glad he would no longer be on the receiving end of her anger.

"Professor, you said the Ministry would provide protection. Now that you know--"

"You will not come to harm while you are at this school, Harry." McGonagall turned gleaming eyes on him. "I will personally see to it."

"Not for me," Harry said. "For my mother and my sister." McGonagall raised her eyebrows in shock. "I don't know if he would ever hurt them, but I don't want to take that chance. I didn't want to tell you because I thought you might act differently around him and...my mom, she'd never believe me if I told her."

McGonagall sighed. She stared off again, her eyes losing focus as she spoke. "Lily always wants to believe the best in people. I'll see what I can do to protect her. I'm sure Dumbledore will guarantee that she and Raven remain unharmed."

Harry nodded, not sure if this was a good time to bring up what he suspected about his other self in the hospital and the parchment he'd found. A tug on his arm from Hermione quickly shook him from his thoughts.

"We'll have a lot more to tell you after this weekend, Professor." McGonagall turned her attention to Hermione. "Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest."

McGonagall nodded and stared off again, her face appearing set in stone. Their conversation over, Harry let Hermione pull him away, in the direction of the Great Hall. The look on McGonagall's face as she realized the truth stayed in his mind. There had been confusion and disbelief and a sudden fury so strong, her mouth had barely moved when she spoke. Walking away, Harry knew Hermione had done the right thing. Though it was at once awesome and scary to realize, the three of them had just declared war.