"So, is Draco alive or dead?" Hermione asked, looking at Harry while doing her handstand. She'd switched into sweat pants instead of robes, like she always did when exercising and testing her limits. Hermione lifted her right hand off the ground and held it out to her side. She kept perfectly still.

Harry didn't even raise his head, resting face down on the desk. That's how he'd taken to thinking, the last few days.

"Does it matter, Hermione?"

He heard her flip back onto her feet and walk over. "Of course it matters. You're always telling everyone how much life matters. Draco betrayed us and got Neville killed, as well as those Aurors and even those evil wizards..."

Harry waved his hand over his head, conceding the point. "I meant from a practical standpoint, not ethically. Draco went well out of his way to create a situation where his death or life wouldn't matter to me, on a practical level. That was the point of his ridiculously complicated setup."

Harry turned his head to the side, so that he could look at Hermione and watch her as he spoke. Not to see her ridiculous exercise, but to see if she looked as annoyed as he felt. Harry sighed and continued.

"If Draco survived, I'd wonder if he actually died. If he didn't - so long as he got through at least part of his plan - I'd wonder if he was still alive. He tried to make it undecidable. As difficult as possible for me to tell. He's practically Schrödinger's cat, now. I don't know if he stumbled onto the plan in frustration for being unable to decide about me, or if it just appealed to his aesthetics."

Hermione frowned at that. "Draco learned the lessons you taught him. Maybe not as well as you'd like, but well enough. You put him in a situation where he had to make a terrible choice. Where only luck would save him, like with the Iran Air Simulation. I'd say he learned your lesson too well. So you do not get to pretend that Draco's plan was some unfortunate coincidence. I didn't know Draco had that in him and neither did you, but you knew his background. Lucius hired him the best tutors. He learned deception from his father. You tried to redeem Draco, we both tried. You trained him. Don't just say 'Draco stumbled onto a plan' to salve your conscious."

Harry grimaced. I'm not sure if she's trying to pick a fight, mad at me, or mad at Draco. Harry thought about it some more and realized he wasn't sure who he was mad at, either. Draco would probably know. That stung a little.

"Right. Rule Ten. One must not rant about the opposition's unworthiness after they have foiled you."

"Who knows how much of the last year was a lie," Hermione said, stopping her jumping jacks in disgust. She still hadn't broken a sweat. "You haven't answered the question."

"Given the evidence we've seen, I thought it more likely than not that Draco survived. But that was before he left you his diary." Alastor Moody had examined the Diary for several days before giving it back. He didn't declare it safe - Alastor Moody never declared anything safe - but its return meant it wasn't obviously dangerous. Anything not obviously dangerous to Mad-Eye was effectively safe.

Hermione thought briefly. "Which matters because it would be useful to Draco."

Harry nodded, as much as possible still resting on the desk, while Hermione continued. "Draco couldn't ever use his cane again. That would reveal his identity and his cane's magic seems geared towards public displays. But a small tutor with secrets going back centuries would be incredibly useful. I can't even imagine how advanced I'd be if I'd had that for a few years. It's like having a full library, if what Narcissa says is true."

"Not even counting what ever else it knows, Hermione. Draco could have kept it. I might notice it missing, but I'd hardly consider it important. I didn't realize it was anything more than a never ending scroll. If Draco is still alive and left that behind, he voluntarily imposed a significant cost to help sell his death. That doesn't mean he's dead, but it makes it more likely."

"Another double bluff, perhaps," Hermione offered.

"Perhaps. But bluffs work because you risk something tangible. It isn't just blustering, Draco took a cost by leaving that behind. If I hunt for Draco, he's at a bigger disadvantage without the diary. And if I don't hunt him, he's worse off in his day to day dealings. He's only better off IF leaving the diary behind changes my decision. If his bluff makes me fold."

"But you admitted that it does tip the balance for you," said Hermione.

Harry finally raised his head off the desk.

"I said it makes me lower my estimate of the fact 'Draco is alive,' from over fifty percent to under. But I'm not altering my strategy based on that. Consider this a poker game between me and Draco. I have to play a mixed strategy in any case - well, it's not really mixed because we're only doing this once, but the same idea applies. My best strategy requires some randomness in it. Just like in real poker, you can't bluff every time and you can't tell the truth every time. My best play is to decide a range of resources I'll spend to investigate, and then randomly pick something in that range. If this were a simple game I could prove the perfect strategy mathematically."

"Father says that poker is a game of bluffing and psychology," Hermione ventured.

"Well, if you play the right mixed strategy nobody can do better than chance against you, assuming they can't literally read your mind. Even if Draco meant to play poker, I'm not getting into a psychological game with him, he has a comparative advantage there. I'm playing strictly according to the maths and randomizing my effort. I do have to try and figure this out, short term. Being able to prove this would be a huge boost. I've got to develop a reputation for punishing my attackers, but in a noble way that makes me seem like a better leader. So I've got to investigate. But I've got other things to do, too."

Harry got up and stretched as he spoke, finally getting into the mood for a conversation.

"Time I spend chasing Draco eats away at my other efforts. That's my cost. If Draco's dead, well, he's already paid the price. Alive, he's spending most of his effort staying hidden. But if Draco messes up just once, I'll know he's alive. He's clever, but this isn't like Peverell where he can spend months planning out one day and several years living expenses to craft the right tools. This isn't an ambush. Draco gets one day to plan for every day he's out there. No days off. He has to get money to live. Every day I don't find him, I lower my probability of Draco being alive ever so slightly. Eventually, it won't be worth my effort. And emotionally..."

"It will just be easier to consider him dead," Hermione finished.

"Yes. I mean, intellectually I'll always know its a possibility..." Harry trailed off and scratched the back of his neck. "At least I have some idea why Draco did it. Maybe."

"Dumbledore? I'm not sure I'd believe that. Not everything can be about you, Harry. Even if Professor Lockhart believes its true, he could just be wrong."

"Perhaps. Maybe I'm just hoping this because in that case Draco hasn't really gone evil. I just wish I knew Dumbledore's motive. I get all of last year, he had to keep so many things in the air, and I ended up with the Vow to help me. I get that, but of course at the time it seemed terrible."

The Unbreakable Vow still restricted Harry somewhat, but he had gotten used to it. People get used to anything, even people who'd been in terrible accidents and paralyzed or blinded, Harry thought automatically. As disabilities go, not being able to destroy the world isn't so bad.

"I don't see why you are worried. If Dumbledore is behind it, you'll understand after it's over, just like you did last year."

"I just don't see why he couldn't tell me," Harry said.

"Maybe Lockhart messed up. Maybe Draco got it wrong. Dumbledore could fine tune his plan when he's around. It sounds like he nudged Professor Lockhart once, and maybe dropped some information into Draco's lap. He's limited. Maybe Draco mis-interpreted it."

"Possibly. Reasoning from limited information isn't perfect. But he went after the Hall of Prophecy. Maybe he found something."

"Dumbledore probably did it to teach you humility," Hermione said firmly. "He knew that you'd never learn from a simple lecture, like a good student. You're too stubborn for that. But everything was going so smoothly, and now you've got a ton more problems. That's the only way you can teach Harry Potter."

Harry started to protest, but unfortunately Hermione's argument could not be lightly dismissed.

Harry waited outside of Gilderoy Lockhart's cell patiently, trying to ignore his entourage. The two Aurors were easy to ignore; outwardly they looked like they were just lounging around on break. Only their eyes betrayed them, casting around incessantly. Vincent and Gregory, on the other hand, were standing at attention, flanking him. The knowledge that their only purpose in a battle was to absorb any spell aimed at Harry made him uncomfortable, but he hadn't been able to dissuade them and didn't dare order them away. They felt it was their penance, perhaps. Harry didn't really understand that, but he acquiesced, for now. If nothing else they discreetly whispered names that Harry didn't know or - more likely - had forgotten. After a few minutes, the door opened and an elegantly robed witch exited. Harry's head snapped up, he hadn't known who Gilderoy's visitor was.

"Lady Malfoy," he said with a calmness he didn't feel.

"Lord Potter," she answered. "I apologize if I've kept you waiting. I did not know Gilderoy had other visitors. Vincent, Gregory," she added, with some warmth and a small smile.

Harry nodded at the apology, but didn't know what to say. Vincent's face looked torn, betraying waves of emotion that had rippled from the last few weeks events, but after a moment he just clinched his jaw and said "Lady Malfoy," and Gregory nodded slowly.

Harry simply stood aside as Narcissa Malfoy walked away, quietly, like a stalking lioness. He waited for a second then carefully rapped his knuckles on the cell door, before opening it without looking in.

"I can come back later, if now is not a good time," he said.

"Harry! Of course, of course, come in!" Even in jail, Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to be constantly smiling, in good spirits. The vote to reduce his sentence to a mere month helped, no doubt. "How are things going? No problems you can't handle, I wager."

Harry walked into the cell and closed the door behind him, thankfully free from his entourage. Well, Professor, the goblins have conceded the point that creating gold is hardly the same as transfiguring money, so we're not in a state of war. But they've made complicated economic arguments that the practical effects of diluting a gold-based economy are similar enough that if I do it again they'll be forced to act. I've studied economics for several weeks, and as a practical matter I doubt I'll be able to just create wealth as easily as I did before, although it's not a long term impediment, and I can use the money from Slughorn's blood debt until I fix it. Half of the country fears me, but some of that is just tabloid interest, and the political situation is still tangled up and Amelia Bones has taken a large hit, some of which to protect me but I don't know the best course...

Harry just shrugged. "Right, nothing I can't handle."

"So, what brings you to my confines, Mr. Potter?" Gilderoy's cell sported even more luxuries than before. Gilderoy didn't have a wand, but with the food, drink and comforts around him he didn't appear to want for much.

"I was wondering what you planned to do after your release," Gilderoy's face fell into a frown and his eyes glanced towards the door and Harry quickly appended, "Professionally speaking, that is."

"Ah! I. Well, I hadn't decided, honestly. I'd considered going back to South America," he said.

"Re-joining Geralt?" Harry asked, but Lockhart shook his head.

"I think I've learned all I care to from that man, no. I'm sure I could learn more, but there must be more pleasant ways to do so. My apprenticeship had already garnered me some notoriety, but I think I've got enough to break free. As long as I steer clear of him, I suppose."

"And you hadn't considered staying?" Harry asked, single eyebrow arched.

"Well, of course I've considered it. But London isn't as interesting."

"Not London, Scotland. Hogwarts." Harry sat down in the visitor's chair. For once Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to be struck speechless. "You taught well, and despite your incarceration the Board of Governors considers your actions ... well, excesses committed in the defence of the students isn't frowned upon. You'd be the first Defence Professor to serve two consecutive years in quite some time. Might make you a bit more notorious."

Gilderoy nodded absent-mindedly. "Technically I'm the first Offence Professor but, yes, I see your point. And you don't have a problem with me?"

"The real question is, Professor, do you have a problem with me?"

"You've always struck me as off, Mr. Potter. I'd heard the stories ... who hasn't heard the stories of the Boy-Who-Lived? But I heard the stories from your first year. And they were stories ... and yet. And yet you dodged my ambush in the first lecture. Draco," at this Professor Lockhart's voice faded for a moment, "Draco reacted, but you anticipated. And that's when I began to suspect that all the stories were true, even the contradictory ones. Not that I did much about it, I suppose. No, I have absolutely no problem believing you are somehow Voldemort's shade. But I also have no problem with you. I've worked with dangerous people, and I've worked with evil people."

"You aren't worried I'm fooling you, a clever lie ready to trap you?"

Professor Lockhart shrugged, "Eh, you wouldn't be the first. Besides, I can't afford to spend all of my time living in fear of what may happen. Isaac always said that was your problem. Too much thinking."

"Professor Asimov said that about me?"

"Well, not in those exact words, no," Professor Lockhart said, and suddenly the smile fell from his face. "What can I possibly teach the students next year?"