Free Will and Fate

It was several long hours later that Harry found himself finally saying goodnight to Tonks. If this was a ruse Dumbledore had cooked up to sneak an Auror into the school, Tonks was a finer actress than Harry had ever realized. She'd had him walk her all over the school, from the storage rooms on the ground floor through half the classrooms on the fourth floor, before telling him they'd pick it up tomorrow after classes. They hadn't even gone through any of the passageways Harry was sure would need to be searched if there really were dangerous objects hidden in the school, not to mention the student dorms and teacher's quarters.

He'd only been in his dorm a couple of minutes when he realized he was too tense to sleep. In between searching each room, she'd been questioning him. At first, about his life at school, class work and friends and the like. Then, the questions became more pointed. Before long, it was an all-out interrogation and Harry got the feeling Dumbledore trusted him a lot less than he'd let himself believe the last few days. At least he had McGonagall's allegiance now, however hard-won it was. He only hoped it was enough to guard against whatever Snape might try next.

He'd thought longingly of the warm waters in the pool-sized tub of the Prefect's bathroom and before he knew it, Harry was sneaking down the stairs under his Invisibility Cloak and into the bathroom before Filch or anyone else could catch him opening the door. As he watched the bath fill, he wondered what he would do if the news came that his other self was about to die and he personally only had a few hours or days left.

Would he act on all the things he'd been debating the last day or two? Would he tell Hermione he was sorry? Would he leave Hogwarts and try to experience what life was like without a target on your back for a few days? Spend the money his father had left him before he took his last breath? Would he abandon everyone and everything he'd come to know for a few days of peace before it was all over?

No. Even if it came down to standing in front of Voldemort and his followers with no one at his side, Harry knew he'd never give up the fight for something easier, even if he sometimes felt that he more than deserved the break. He couldn't leave everyone else to their fate. Not if he was the one person who could stop it.

With that thought, he cast the Impervius Charm on his glasses, sunk his body into the hot water filling the pool-sized tub and floated on his back amidst the scented bubbles, eyes closed.

What tenet of fate had he violated when he'd tried to change his past? He hadn't asked for this burden, had no way of understanding it, and it seemed, no way of escaping it. Technically, he was no longer The Boy Who Lived, but it still felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. No matter what he did, there was always a mystery that needed to be solved, some enemy that had to be thwarted and he was always cast as the hero whether he wanted to be or not.

For once, just once, he wanted to know what it felt like to be a normal teenager, when his biggest worries would be what essay he could put off until the last minute and whether or not the girl he was interested in liked him back.

It was this last thought that made Harry curse under his breath. He couldn't go there. It was a wonder he wasn't more wound up. Before long, he would have to have a long talk with Hermione. He didn't want to hurt her, and he couldn't say no to her help, but what was he supposed to do about her feelings? He couldn't just make her turn them off. He knew from his experience with Cho that girls didn't work like that. For that matter, neither did he. Anything she was thinking or feeling had to be handled with kid gloves. He would rather have a friend who resented what he'd done by changing the past than a girlfriend he constantly had to lie to in order to receive her help. But how was he going to get that?

Harry took a deep breath and let the water wash over him completely. He let himself sink to the bottom of the tub until he felt some of the tension ease from his back, neck and legs. He stayed there until the weight that had been pressing down on him hard for days seemed to ease a little bit. He didn't move until he heard a slam that signaled someone else coming into the bathroom and closing the door behind them. Was it Snape? Had he somehow been followed? Was the end he'd been dreading tonight?

Slowly, Harry let himself come to the surface, careful not to make waves as he peeked at whoever had entered the bathroom from the center of the water. His head broke the surface just in time to see the girl drop her robe. It was Hermione. She hadn't noticed him yet. She had unbraided her hair facing away from him and was now stretching, standing on the tips of her toes and arching her body as she reached both arms above her head. Before Harry could consider warning her or making a noise, she turned and spotted him, shrieking as she saw his head in the water.

"Harry! What are you doing?" Her face flooded with color and she looked around wildly before returning her gaze to him.

He smiled. The view from the front was much better. "I'm taking a bath. You?"

"I'm--" She seemed to realize then that she was standing before him naked and attempted to cover herself with her hands as Harry walked to the edge of the tub.

"You'd be better off getting into the water if you don't want me to see anything. Not that it matters now," Harry said, grinning. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll get out..."

"No!" Her skin flushed an even darker shade of red at the suggestion.

"You know, I never knew you had freckles. A lot of them."

"Shut up!" She said it with plenty of conviction, but her voice had lost all of the volume that had accompanied her initial reaction. After a few more seconds of Harry smirking at her, she finally lowered her hands to either side and stood before him, trembling slightly.

"Are you going to join me or do I have to come out and get you?"

She seemed to consider this suggestion for a few seconds before shaking her head. "Why didn't you lock the door? Anyone could've come in here."

"We're Prefects. Just us and the Quidditch Captains can come in here. Plus, it's after midnight. I didn't think anyone would be up."

She nodded at his words.

"You never answered my question."

Hermione tilted her head to the side, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Am I going to get you wet or are you coming in here on your own?" His eyes raked her up and down as he asked the question and he knew from her change in expression that her getting into the water at that point would probably entail a lot more than splashing around together. What had he been telling himself earlier? That he needed to let her down gently or something along those lines? Perhaps he'd been too hasty. It was a minute before Harry realized Hermione had dragged the small bag she'd brought with her to the edge of the tub and had slipped into the water next to him.

Between the water and the bubbles he suddenly wished he hadn't added, she was covered up to her collarbone. And she was smiling at him. Not the usual smug grin she got whenever she answered a question in class or the goofy smile she had whenever he caught her staring at him, but a seductive half-smile that gave Harry pause. He had no time to consider what he might be doing to her when the truth was, he couldn't figure out what she was doing to him. And when she stood in front of him, nothing between their bodies but a few splashes of scented bubbles and water, with that expression on her face, he wasn't sure he cared.

She closed the space between them. "Harry, tell me something." Just like that, she'd gone back to Serious Hermione.

He frowned. She picks now to talk?

"What happened yesterday morning? I remember doing homework, going through the books...the next thing I know, my back is practically dislocated and you're looking at me like I've got some contagious disease." She stuck out her bottom lip in a small pout. "What did I do wrong?" She put her hands on his shoulders and held him, the tips of her fingers keeping her from floating away from him in the waves of the water.

Nothing. It's me. I'm an idiot. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Why was she touching him like that? "When you were asleep, you kissed me."

"Is that all?"

Is that--? "You uh...you kissed me on the neck and my ear and you..." Am I breathing too hard? I'm breathing way too hard. "And you were kind of rubbing against me," Harry said. He found himself looking at a point over her shoulder as he described the events of the early morning. He could practically hear her laughing as she listened to him. On the inside, he was doing it himself. He was such a coward.

"Oh," Hermione said. "So, I touched you here?" She ran one hand from his chest down his stomach, slowing her movement when she reached his waist. His eyes shot to her face just as she pulled away. "And I kissed you here?" One small fingertip found the spot behind his ear that Hermione had touched with her tongue. It seemed to tingle when she touched it now.

Harry nodded.

"So I wasn't dreaming, then," she said. "Now, that doesn't seem so bad to me. But then, I'm not you." She took a deep breath and stepped back from him. "Maybe you don't want me touching you at all. Is that it, Harry? Am I too dirty for you?" Hermione turned her back to him then and leaned against the side of the tub.

Crap. Is this one of those stupid Pureblood arguments? She had to know he wasn't like that. He would be the last person to come down on anyone for having nonmagic parents.

"Hermione, no. That's not a problem."

"Isn't it, Harry?" She turned to look at him over one shoulder and he swallowed hard. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were unreadable. "If that's how you really feel, maybe you should help me with that."

"What?"

She turned to face him fully, her expression sober. "I said, you should help me out if you feel like I'm too dirty for you." She turned and pointed at the bag she'd brought over earlier. "Pick it up."

He grabbed the bag and opened it, still confused.

"Start with my hair." She turned away from him then and waited.

Harry stood still for a moment, still unsure of what Hermione was doing. Start with what? When he looked inside the bag, he saw that she'd brought toiletries with her, shampoo and conditioner and some kind of liquid body wash. Following her instructions, he pulled out the bottle of shampoo and set it on the edge of tub.

He grabbed Hermione's shoulders and she tensed before relaxing as he leaned her back, getting her hair wet. When he brought her upright, he wasted no time in getting her hair filled with peach-scented suds. It was a lot of work. He now fully appreciated how much time it must've taken her to get ready for the Yule Ball. Not only to wash and condition her hair, but to try to tame the curls that were currently wrapping around his hands like Devil's Snare. After her hair was washed, he used the conditioner she'd brought, smoothing out her curls until her hair hung longer than he'd ever seen it dry, down almost past her butt.

She turned to face Harry when he was finished. "Good enough yet?" Hermione leaned towards him and frowned when he tensed. "Apparently not. Here." She reached for the last bottle and squeezed some of the creamy body wash into the palm of his hand. She raised her arms above her head and watched as Harry stared at her in disbelief. "Any time now," Hermione said.

He took a deep breath and began washing Hermione with his hands, starting at a safe spot, her outstretched arms. When he reached her shoulders, he tensed, then brought his soapy hands down her back. By the time his hands stroked over her butt, he wasn't sure how much he was cleaning her or if he was merely running his hands over the curves he couldn't see. This was dangerous. He pulled his hands out of the water and backed away.

"Hermione..."

Frowning, she reached for the bottle of body wash and grabbed his hand again. "Don't forget the front." She squeezed a big handful of liquid into it and stood still as she waited for Harry to touch her again.

Trembling, he came closer and put both hands on her shoulders. "Are you sure?" he asked. She didn't move or respond, just stared him in the eye until he began to move his hands over her, slowly caressing the upper part of her body. When his hands moved over her breasts, Hermione closed her eyes and leaned back into his touch, shuddering as his thumbs teased over her nipples. Harry quickly moved his hands away and stroked down over her stomach before his hands came to rest outside her hips.

She opened her eyes and eyed him again, all trace of her supposed anger gone. "Almost done," she whispered. She took one of his hands and put it between her legs, sighing as his fingers made contact with her sensitive skin.

Before Harry knew what was coming, Hermione had thrown herself against him, her hands tangled in his wet hair, her lips crushed against his. She kissed him as she had the night they'd truly met, when he first arrived at Hogwarts earlier in the week, as if he were the love of her life and the only thing on her mind was joining them in every way possible. He kissed her back hungrily, greedy for the touch of her slick skin against his, the small moans that escaped from her throat driving him to touch her anywhere, everywhere, as they splashed and touched in the water.

Her hand snaked around to his front, down his chest and over his stomach and he jumped away from her. He pulled out of her grasp as a flash of hurt crossed her face.

"What is wrong with you?"

Her whispered question somehow bothered him more than any chastising shout he'd ever suffered from her. There were tears in her eyes now and he'd put them there. He shook his head. "Hermione, we can't. I'm not--"

"Shh. You are. Whether you believe it in your mind or not, you are the person I love. Nothing can change that. You know it here." She placed her hand on his chest where Harry didn't doubt she could feel the quick thumping of his heart. "I know what you're thinking."

"No, you don't or you wouldn't look at me like that."

Her eyes widened at that, but she kept going. "I know you want what we could have together. If you had gone back to the right date, we would've been together by now."

"Would we?" he asked. "I'm never going to know, am I?"

She blinked and looked away from him then.

Harry sighed. He really didn't want to hurt her, but she was making it harder on both of them. "We can't be together, not like that. Not with...with everything we know. The things that are going to happen."

"You don't know it's going to happen. It's just a theory," she said quietly. "And so what? I love you and I want this. We both do." As he started to interrupt, she said, "Don't bother denying it. You have been for days and it's been killing me not to tell how you I feel."

"Hermione, what are you talking about? We can't be a couple. I'm probably going to be dead soon and I don't want you left with nothing but the memory of sleeping with someone you barely know. I can't do that to you. You love someone who is lying in a hospital bed in who knows what condition and I...I want you to--" He swallowed hard. "I want you to want me, not the person who shares the same genes as your boyfriend. I'm not a substitute for what you can't have. I can't be him for you. Too much has changed."

Hermione frowned and the tears finally began to fall as she spoke. "You can deny it all you want, Harry, but you and I are together. You're the same person I love just like I'm the same person you knew. Changes in time don't matter. This is going to happen. And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can stop fighting me." With that, she got out of the water, wrapped a towel around herself, grabbed her robe and her bag and left the bathroom.