Free Will and Fate

"Ah, I am blessed with a personal visit this time."

"Yes, Minerva," Dumbledore responded. He stepped out of the fireplace and shook out his canary yellow robes before performing a quick charm to clean them. "I thought you might have grown tired of making angry faces at my portrait. I also considered it best to assure you in person." He transfigured a hard-backed chair into a cushioned armchair and took a seat in front of her desk.

She turned quickly and glared at the older wizard. "Assure me of what? Have you finally arrested the attacker?" Better yet, could she finally force herself to forget those tempting thoughts of revenge that had consumed her thoughts since she'd found out the truth? The more she considered it, the more a personal form of retribution sounded appealing.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at her. "Has Harry told you who he is?"

Minerva crossed her arms and leaned back against her desk. "No, but I have a good idea."

"Who is it?"

"What did you come to tell me?" she asked, ignoring his question.

He studied her for another moment before saying, "I just wanted to assure you that there is nothing sinister about Harry's presence here. Suffice it to say, there is an unusual situation at play. When I spoke to him last night--"

"You spoke to him last night? Why wasn't I informed? Why didn't you come to me afterwards?" McGonagall fingered the handle of her wand as she spoke, the irritation she'd been feeling towards Dumbledore recently coming to the forefront as he spoke.

If Harry had managed to reach the Minister without coming to her first, she had no doubt the man in front of her would've left her out of the loop completely. She'd never been bothered by his forward manner before, but with a potential life-threatening situation at the school, she expected the courtesy of being informed of everything taking place. In light of the Minister's attitude, she had no problem letting Harry reveal his attacker's identity in his own time. Certainly, she couldn't expect Dumbledore to act with everyone's best interest in mind. Not when the attack had become a personal cause.

"I thought it best I speak to Harry alone last night, in order to get him to trust me. He refused to speak without Miss Granger by his side, but no matter." Dumbledore settled deeper into the chair. He waved his wand and a cup of tea appeared in the air. "You may want to take this."

McGonagall accepted the cup but did not bring it to her lips. "Well? What is the big mystery?"

"Voldemort." At her shocked expression, he added, "Harry apparently used a Time-Turner at some point in his past in order to escape a life created for him by a previous attack. The scar he bears is a remnant of that attack."

McGonagall scoffed. "There is no curse Voldemort would perform on a child that would result in a scar, much less one that he could live through."

"I don't think Neville Longbottom would agree, Minerva."

She brought the mug of tea to her lips and sipped it slowly, willing her thoughts to slow down as the Minister's words coursed through her mind. Neville had been lucky to escape with that small reminder of the deaths of his parents. If Harry had been in a similar situation, she could hardly blame him for wanting to change it, in spite of the results of his actions. Still, such a claim was highly questionable.

"Harry has spent the last several years as The Boy Who Lived." Before she could interrupt, he said, "Do you remember when I told you Neville was not the only child Voldemort had in his sights that year?" Dumbledore sighed. "Harry was the other child. I had actually believed at the time that it would be Lily and her husband having to defend their son. They went into hiding at my urging. At some point in his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry came across a Time-Turner and used it to prevent what would happen to his parents, himself, and several other people after his arrival at school. Because of the attack Sunday, he was not able to return to the correct date and was caught, for lack of a better term."

"He and Lily and James--?"

"Were supposed to end up as Frank, Alice and Neville did. I shall have to confirm his story, but I do believe him. Now, what has he told you about his attacker?"

She brushed off his question. "How are you going to confirm any of that? It sounds wilder than what he told me."

"I've loaned him my Pensieve," he responded. "I trust you'll be able to help him with his memories if he has any trouble. He'll be giving me a great deal of information."

"About changing his past? Why if he confessed as much?"

"Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "Harry has suffered some kind of attack from Voldemort or one of his followers almost every year since he came to Hogwarts. Fortunately, Neville has never had to suffer that fate. Harry will be extracting a number of memories for me. I may be able to use the information to replace some of the notes stolen weeks ago and perhaps predict if we are to be visited by the so-called Dark Lord again."

Professor McGonagall blinked in surprise. This was nothing like what they had been discussing for nearly a week. "Is that your new priority? What about Harry? What happens to him?"

"I assure you, as I did him, that we are doing our best to look for a cure to this dreadful curse, if one is to be found. Harry understands the realities of his situation," he said.

McGonagall took that to mean, he has accepted that he will probably die. "What am I to do now? Let him continue to go to class while simultaneously dying at St. Mungo's? That hardly makes sense."

"I think Harry is onto something about his attacker," Dumbledore began. "He suspects there is more to his attack than meets the eye."

"Obviously," McGonagall replied. "It would have to be an unusual circumstance for someone to attack a fifteen-year-old." Especially his stepson, she thought.

Dumbledore nodded. "Harry suspects his attack was connected to Death Eater activity." McGonagall clutched her cup tight and finished her tea in one long swallow. "I am allowing him to investigate on behalf of the Ministry, with Auror Tonks relaying any information he and Miss Granger uncover. This could be exactly what we need."

"Exactly what we need to fight someone who hasn't been seen in nearly fourteen years?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"That doesn't mean he is not around, biding his time somewhere."

"Did Harry actually say his attack was from a Death Eater? A professor at this school with the Dark Mark? Did he use those words?" McGonagall asked, doubt lacing her voice. Dumbledore's silence was all the answer she needed. "This is sounding more dangerous by the minute. He did not tell you of Death Eaters exactly, and yet you wish him to continue whatever he is doing behind closed doors. Granted, the attacker needs to be stopped, but not with a rubbish story that'll have you laughed out of the Wizengamot. As Minister, you undoubtedly have a great deal of influence, but you'll still need solid evidence to convict him."

"And I shall have it," Dumbledore responded. "Harry and Miss Granger are in the process of uncovering something...unsavory about this attacker and a number of other people. If you could find an excuse for them to attend as few classes as possible for the next two weeks, and possibly distract this professor from their actions, if you know who he is," he said pointedly, "it would be of great benefit to Harry and myself. He wishes to find evidence of whatever caused the attacker to go after him and, as you well know, I intend to get inside this man's head in order to save Harry's life."

Before McGonagall could interrupt he added, "It was Harry who decided this internal investigation was to take priority. He deliberately chose not to give the professor's name last night because he felt the attacker's other plan was more significant. He did tell you the other day that he wanted to make sure this person is not a threat. He was telling the truth then and I believe he continued to do so last night." Dumbledore stood from his chair and walked towards the fireplace. "Do see that he gets all of the help you can provide."

A few seconds later, Dumbledore stepped from the fireplace and into his own office, leaving the Headmistress using language she never thought she would use to describe a man she'd long since come to respect. His own obsession with the lost soul of Tom Riddle was affecting his judgment, and possibly, the rest of Harry's life. Regardless of what he claimed the boy had chosen to do, she had no doubt the Minister, the adult in the situation, wasn't fighting any plan that would get him one step closer to righting a wrong he should've long since given up on. She only hoped it wouldn't end with Harry, and who knew how many others, dead, paying the price for the whims of an old man who refused to let go of his past mistakes.

"The Draught of Living Death," Hermione said. Harry looked up from his potions book and watched as she fumbled through Dumbledore's notes until she came across the Key. She pulled the page closer and compared the two sets of ingredients. "I think I'm right. Turn to page ten." She waited until he flipped to the page she was reading. "See, asphodel in an infusion of wormwood and valerian roots. It all makes sense."

"Enlighten me," Harry responded.

"Normally, this potion would cause someone to fall into a deep sleep, similar to what Muggles might think of as a coma, but they would appear to be dead. Without the sopophorous bean, it wouldn't have that affect. It would suspend the body's physical state, I think. With Mandrake Draught and Unicorn Blood and all of these other things to revitalize the body, it's probably the only way to revive someone..."

"From being not quite dead?" he asked.

"Well, yes. I suppose. Or create a body. With the proper spell to accompany it. There are several parts to this Key and they're all pretty complicated. I think this is the last step before putting the soul into the new body." Hermione put the parchment down and stared at Harry, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know, if we tell Dumbledore we have this, we could try using part of this on you."

"On me?" Harry slammed a fist onto the table. "You're crazy if you think I'm going to let anyone put any of that on me," he said, motioning to the page that had drifted onto the floor.

"No, it wouldn't be like that," Hermione said, hurrying to pick up the parchment. "We wouldn't use the blood or anything, just the parts of the potion that could heal your body. Maybe it'll boost your immune system enough so you could fight the effects of the curse. Or we could suspend the parts of your body that have been affected so they could be healed separately."

"No!" He settled back into his chair and ran a hand through his hair, shaking in his sudden fury. "Why would you want to do that to me?"

"Why?" Hermione slammed the book closed and pushed it to the center of the table. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what else to do. You never know, this might work. It couldn't hurt. If you're already going to die, anything that could help is a good idea. I don't care what the ingredients are if it saves your life," she said. She pushed away from the table then and, grabbing the box of newspapers from the floor, left Harry alone in the Room of Requirement, wondering what he'd done to make her so desperate to save him, she'd risk his soul.

After a few minutes, Harry got up to go to the Gryffindor common room. He'd make his way to the library after Hermione calmed down, assuming that's where she disappeared to. Putting up with her occasional moodiness had never bothered him this much before, but at least now he could understand it. Still, her desperation to have him around did not justify suggesting something that...insane as a possibility. He hoped it didn't come down to it, but he would rather die in some peaceful way than use that perversion he'd witnessed Voldemort commit in the graveyard to create himself a new, healthy body. Hermione was right. The ingredients were disgusting, and the personal repercussions for using them were unimaginable.

Walking into the common room, Harry realized he had no desire to be around any of his schoolmates. Relaxing and casual conversation would probably benefit him, but he didn't feel like fielding the inevitable questions about what was going on with Hermione, something everyone expected her boyfriend to be the expert on. Waving absently at a few fellow Gryffindors, Harry shifted the two books in his hands and took the stairs two at a time to his dorm room, stopping in surprise in the doorway when he spotted Hermione sitting on his bed, one of his pillows clutched tightly in her arms. He approached slowly, barely glancing at the box that sat on the far side of the bed.

When he reached her side, she said, "I feel like I always have to apologize to you these days." Harry sat on the bed, dropping the books behind himself. Hermione turned away from him and stared at her hands as she toyed with the tag on his pillow. "I don't want you to think I've gone completely around the bend. I know you'd never really want to do any of that stuff, but it frustrates me that you don't want to do anything about the curse." She looked up then and searched his eyes for an answer. "Tell me why. Why don't you want to live?"

"Of course I want to live, Hermione. That's ridiculous."
"Ridiculous, is it?" She bit her lip to stop herself from crying and pushed him away when he reached for her. "Then, why don't you want to fight? I feel like I'm pulling for this by myself. I want you to live. I want you to have the family you've never had, to be able to go to school w-without a threat of the Dark Lord over your head. I want you to live so..." She swallowed hard and looked down again, throwing his pillow to the side.

"You want me to live so we can be together," he supplied. "Hermione, look at me." After a few seconds, she turned, her face once again masking her true emotions. "I don't know how it can work between us. Even if I live. I don't want to get your hopes up."

"You don't want to get your hopes up," she countered. "I know what's at stake here. For the last few years, I've lived it. I know what I feel about you. I know what we had and what we could have again. I refuse to act like our relationship is an afterthought because you don't--" He cut her off with a kiss. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough for Hermione to be shocked into complete silence.

"I'm learning that's the best way to get your attention," Harry said. "You know what I've been through. You know what I will probably go through before it's all over. The odds are so far against me, against us, and I'm tired of fighting."

"And I'm getting tired of your excuses. I don't think you should deny yourself something that will make you happy because you only have so much time left. You should enjoy what you can while you can." Hermione reached for him and let her hand rest on the back of his neck. Her warm eyes implored him. "There are some battles you shouldn't have to fight, Harry."

As he let her words sink in, it seemed only natural to pull her towards him, hold her close and kiss her as if his world wasn't coming to an abrupt end any time soon. She returned his attentions touch for touch, almost shaking in her relief that he was finally returning at least a small part of the affection she had for him. He knew what he was beginning to feel wasn't going to be nearly enough for her, but it was a beginning and she could accept that. She would accept him trying.

Countless minutes later, Harry pulled out of her arms and took a deep breath, licking his lips slowly as he eyed the girl next to him. It was no wonder Professor McGonagall had panicked when she found them in this exact spot months before. Hermione was dangerously persuasive when she put her mind to it. The temptation to go further was almost palpable in the air.

"Your um...Dumbledore sent you the Pensieve," Hermione said, motioning to the box behind her. "There's a note with it."

"Did you read it?"

She shook her head as she handed it to him. "It's still sealed, but I recognized his handwriting."

Harry broke the seal on the letter and read it over quickly. "He's included a book on memory extraction and storage and a number of empty vials for me to use once I learn the charm. I suppose I could get started now."

"No," Hermione said. "You should get a fresh start tomorrow, give yourself a chance to read through everything. Besides, with all that's going on, you still have to turn in homework."

"I had really been hoping to escape all that last week," Harry said. "You're right though, it's probably better if I do this when I don't feel quite so..."

"Right. Exactly." She smiled and stood. "I'll see you tomorrow, Harry. I've got a ton of work to catch up on and I want to get to the library before it closes. Will you try to come to breakfast?"

"I don't know."

"You need to keep up your strength," Hermione said. She kissed him again, a smile lingering after she pulled away. "Good night, Harry."

He nodded and watched as she walked away, realizing with a pang that instead of fighting against her and the idea of their relationship, now he would be fighting himself to control how far and how fast they would go.