He was devastated. His wife was dead, his daughter gone. Why, Lord, why had it happened to him? He had tried so hard to protect her from the magic that haunted his steps. She had known nothing, done nothing wrong. Why did she have to suffer for his crimes? Why did she have to pay his price? Why did he survive, and not his family?

Harry could barely sleep that night. Twice he woke with a start, images of Vandermine in a Death Eater's mask vividly dancing in his eyes. He tried to shake them off, but they would not stop. It just did not make sense.

He couldn't have been a Death Eater. He hunted them, slaughtered them, he even murdered them. There is no way that he could have gone bad like that. But the image from the paper kept returning to his mind. Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the worst of the Death Eaters, hiding behind him in the face of a half-dozen Ministry Aurors. He must have had a reason. Known something they didn't. But what?

Harry sighed and stared at the ceiling, counting the flecks of dust as they drifted past him. There is no way…

Harry kept his head low that day, avoiding the others as he thought about the picture. He wanted to deny it, to show that it was a fake, a lie, anything. He did not want to believe that this man, a man to whom Dumbledore had entrusted the security of the school, was a… what? A Death Eater? That, Harry knew, was impossible. But what was he? A traitor, a spy? Something did not fit, and Harry was determined to find what it was.

There is a mistake, I just need to find it. Harry spent his lunch huddled away from the others, flipping the news story over in his mind. He poked and prodded with his brain, but he could not think of anything. The more he considered it, the more he realized that there were no loopholes, there were no explanations. He resolved to talk to Dumbledore about it, hoping that he would shed light on the subject.

As Harry left the Great Hall, he stopped by Hermione, who was packing up her things.

"Hermione, I was wondering if I could borrow the, um, you know…"

Hermione looked up from the book she was stuffing into her bag and nodded. "Yeah, let me get it." She rummaged through the bag for a minute, pulling out loose papers and scanning them one at a time. "Here it is," she finally said, pulling out the dreaded paper. Harry took it and headed off for Dumbledore's office.

"Hey Harry," Hermione hurried to catch up with him as he exited the Hall. "What are you going to do with it?" She cut in front of him and stood her ground, forcing him to stop and look her in the eye. "You had better not go try and destroy it."

"I won't," Harry promised. "I just wanted to ask Dumbledore about it. There is something about the story that I don't believe. I am hoping that Dumbledore will help."

Hermione scowled and turned away, heading for her class. "You do that, Harry. Don't put your hopes too high, though. He's rotten all the way through, that I promise you."

Harry stared dumbly after her until she rounded the corner and disappeared among the crowd of students. He wondered why she seemed so bent on condemning him. Sure he was creepy and a man with blood on his hands, more so than was usual, but he had never seen Hermione so ardently bent on one goal. She acted like it was her purpose in life to find any faults that he had.

He walked to Dumbledore's office slowly, dreading the prospect of talking about Vandermine with the Headmaster. He hesitated as the gargoyle asked for the password, feeling suddenly unsure about the idea. Then he felt a rush of courage, and he answered and went in. He rushed up the stairs, anxious to get it over with.

Dumbledore welcomed him in with a smile, making Harry feel even worse in his stomach. He sat down uncertainly in the proffered chair, butterflies zooming around inside him like a dozen Snitches. He sat silently for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts.

Dumbledore watched him impassively, his mind unfathomable behind the kindly eyes that followed Harry's every move. Harry fidgeted under his gaze, feeling horrible inside for bringing this up. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he found the nerve to speak.

"Well, sir, Dumbledore, I had a question about Vandermine, sir." He cleared his throat and flinched as Dumbledore brought his fingers together and leaned forward, his eyes twinkling merrily as they reflected the flames from the nearby fireplace.

"Go on." His voice sounded soft and friendly, but it made Harry feel even worse.

"Sir, um, Hermione and I talked about him and, um-"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, letting out a low chuckle. "Still convinced that he is the devil himself, isn't she."

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he recovered quickly. "yes sir, she is."

"And what did she show you. Some record of his horrible doings, I presume."

Harry swallowed hard and shoved the paper into Dumbledore's outstretched hand, cursing himself as he did so. He watched apprehensively as the smile faded from Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore examined the paper carefully, then raised his head, his face an impenetrable mask of calm. Harry could hear the concern in his voice though, when he spoke.

"Whatever you wanted to know, I am afraid you must go to Vandermine himself for the answers. This brings up a chapter in his history that few know the real truth about. He has told few, very few, about the truth behind this. He trusted me enough to tell me, and I wish he had not, now that I have seen the pain that it caused him, and still causes him to this day. I trust him full, and I would not betray his trust for anything."

Harry started to protest, but Dumbledore waved him silent and pointed to the door. "That is all, Harry. You may leave." There was a hint of force behind the calm words, so Harry rose and headed for the exit without a word.

"Be warned, Harry," Dumbledore called out to him as he left. "The answers you seek are painful, very painful to him. Getting these answers will cause more harm than good. Believe me when I say that some things are best left alone."

Harry sighed and left the room, the warning ringing in his ears.

The meeting room for the Dueling Club was the same one from last year, where Harry had first spoken in Parseltongue publicly. He entered the room cautiously, Dumbledore's words fresh on his mind. Not knowing what to expect, he looked around quickly as the door opened.

To his relief, the room was exactly the same as when it was last year. Most of the Third Level students were already there, milling around uncertainly in groups. Malfoy stood off to the side, surrounded by the few Slytherins that had made it into the Third level. Harry saw Hermione and Ron on opposite sides of the room. They were glaring daggers at each other. Harry hesitated, trying to decide who to go to, and went over to Hermione. She acknowledged him with a curt nod and went back to glaring at Ron.

"Well, what did he say," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, never taking her eyes off of Ron.

Harry shrugged. "He told me to ask Vandermine himself."

"Are you going to ask him?"

"Not sure yet. Dumbledore said it is a pretty painful memory."

Harry could feel the sarcasm rolling off Hermione when she heard this. "Painful? How painful could being forced to admit that he aided a convicted Death Eater escape custody be? Especially for him, with all the things he did."

Harry turned to her and let out an exasperated sigh. "Just what is your problem with him anyway, Hermione? It is ridiculous how much you hate him."

Hermione jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow. "Quiet, here he comes."

Harry turned back to the front of the room in time to see Vandermine shutting the door to the teacher's room. As the students scrambled to face him, he strode down the steps and motioned for them to circle up around the platform. He jumped on top of it and faced them, eyes wandering among them as he paced it.

"Greetings, Third Level students. Good to see you." He bowed his head a little in acknowledgement. "Third Level means that you have a well-developed proficiency in basic spells and are old enough to take this Club maturely. The Fourth Level, the only level above your own, is reserved for those in the sixth or seventh year that have considerable prowess and abilities.

"Because of the nature of this Club, Dumbledore has seen fit to promote my position, and the position of the others, to those of Teachers. This means we can, and we will, dock you points for screwing around or fighting outside of the rules. This Club is not somewhere to goof off or a place to learn skills to put to use in the hallways or classrooms. What happens in this room stays in this room." He stopped and looked towards Harry and Malfoy as he spoke, eying them meaningfully. "Any reported horseplay and you will receive the proverbial boot out of this Club. Am I clear?" The students nodded obediently.

"Good." Vandermine crossed his arms and pointed at the ends of the platform. "Malfoy, Potter, you're up." As Harry and Draco climbed up to their respective platform positions Vandermine continued, facing the remaining students.

"The first thing that you will learn in this Club is elementary dueling. I know there was an attempt at teaching you this last year, but nothing came of it. This year we will be doing the real thing; proper dueling. I know that you two," he pointed to Harry and Draco, "have had some practice with this. Therefore you two will give us a demonstration."

He cleared the platform and raised his wand. A shimmering, transparent barrier formed between them. "You will draw your wands on my mark. You can move, dodge, shield, anything to avoid being hit. Expelliarmus only though. I don't want to have to send one or both of you to the hospital wing. Anything else and you won't be coming back."

Harry nodded distractedly. His eyes were focused on Draco, noting the twitch of his hand as he brushed his wand, trying to sense how quickly he would draw. He barely heard Vandermine as he counted down from three. All that was in his mind was Draco and his wand.

"Draw."

The barrier separating them abruptly dropped, giving Harry a clear view. Harry whipped his wand out in a blur, aiming and shooting the spell before he had time to steady his aim. Draco fired at the same time. The spells shot straight through each other, wavering as the energies passed over and through like water. Then the spells broke apart and hurtled forward, catching both students and knocking them back a foot. Their wands flew in the air and landed near the middle of the platform.

Vandermine stepped between them and held up his hands. "That was good. Your reaction times are short, and your aim is accurate. Now what did you do wrong?"

Harry looked at him blankly, thinking about what he did wrong. He pulled his wand out fast, he aimed and fired quickly, he watched the spell go and hit… he did not dodge. He raised his hand, but Vandermine had already gone on.

"They did not dodge. The first fundamental rule of dueling: dodge." Vandermine looked from one student to the next as he spoke, as if checking them to see how they were taking the information. "Being the first to get a spell off won't help worth a hill of beans if you don't dodge the other's shot. Or you could block it, but that would take some frantic spellwork and luck to pull off. Watch how it works." He moved toward Harry and motioned for him to step aside. Harry hopped down from the platform and hurried over to Hermione. She grinned as he stood by her.

"That was a nice shot." She whispered. "I think you got your spell off before Draco did."

Harry suppressed a grin and watched the platform. Vandermine was facing Draco, who looked nervous (to Harry's delight). Vandermine faced Draco, his hand straying dangerously close to his wand.

"On three." Draco nodded, his face paling rapidly.

"Three." Draco inhaled deeply, trying to calm his shaking hand.

"Two." Whispers broke out among the watching students as sweat appeared on Draco's forehead.

"One." The whole crowd fell silent, watching the two duelists with rapt attention.

"Draw."

Draco whipped out his wand and fired a quick spell in desperation. Vandermine, standing quietly with his wand still holstered, merely sidestepped the spell.

"Again." Draco took a measured breath and fired an aimed spell. Vandermine followed the spell in with his eyes, bending to the side at the last moment to avoid the shot.

"Try more than one." Draco, his face completely pale and covered in sweat, swore under his breath and launched three quick spells, spacing the spells evenly across the chest region. Vandermine dropped to a crouch as the spells closed in and drew his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco's eyes shined with fear as the spell closed in and he took a step to the side, cursing as the spell whipped past his head, causing his hair to stand on end. He spun back to face Vandermine, who casually disarmed him with a second shot.

"That was very good, Draco. Five points to Slytherin." Harry groaned as Draco slid off the platform, looking both terrified and relieved as the other Slytherins welcomed him back to their huddle with pats on the back.

Vandermine quieted the crowd with an upraised hand and pointed to Draco. "Draco did well, both in aiming his spells and keeping his head cool enough to dodge that first spell. On the second one he did not have a chance, because of the way he dodged the first one, but it was a good start." He indicated two others from the crowd.

"Weasley, Longbottom, you're next."

Ron and Neville took their places on the platform, eyeing Vandermine nervously as he counted down. When he said 'Draw,' they both cast he spell and dodged to their left. Harry's eyes widened in amusement as they both got hit and blown off their feet.

Vandermine shook his head as he picked them up. "Predictable, very predictable. You need to learn to move where your opponent would not expect you to go. It was a good attempt by both of you, but remember for next time to do something not random, but irregular. Do that and there is a fair chance that your opponent will misjudge and miss."

The rest of the Club lesson flew by, with pairs of students being called up and attempting to duel with varying degrees of success. An hour later Harry was dragged outside by Hermione, who pulled him into a nearby alcove and pulled the curtain close behind them. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she rounded on him pinning him to the wall with one arm.

"You want to know my problem with Vandermine? Take a look at this!" She slammed a piece of paper into Harry's chest. Harry grunted from the blow and took the paper, eyeing Hermione cautiously.

He read the article slowly, his heart falling lower in his chest with each word. By the time he had finished, his knees felt weak and he sagged against the wall. A feeling of complete revulsion washed over him and he handed the paper back to Hermione.

"Is this real?"

Hermione looked him square in the eye and nodded her head solemnly. "Every word of it. I checked the source three times."

"But there's no way. I mean, why would he-"

"Face it Harry, it was no coincidence that he showed up at the Lestrange witch's house. He must have planned it all."

"But, why? He would not have, after that, would he?"

"Stop looking for excuses, Harry. There is no way he could not have known that she was the one responsible for it. He had planned it with her, all of it."

"But-"

"Stop it Harry!" Hermione glared at him and held the paper up in his face. "Wife murdered, Longbottoms tortured, Aurors killed in arrest attempt. He had planned it all with her. She was the one who told Voldemort where he lived, she was the one responsible for the death of his wife, she was the one who tortured his 'best friends' almost to death. He knew about it all alright. He's the one who gave her the idea. Kill his wife and daughter, eliminate all close contacts, and he gets away scot free with her. There was just a slight hitch in his plan though. He tried to trust a murderer like himself."

Harry closed his eyes, wishing that she would stop making sense. The article was perfectly clear. The afternoon before the attack on his house, Vandermine had gone off on to investigate a 'confidential tip off.' Records show that he never showed up at the site in question, and his house was attacked and burnt down while he was gone. Then the Longbottoms were captured on a routine mission and tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. Two days later, he was caught in her house, and he killed all of the Aurors in the squad sent to bring in Bellatrix Lestrange, even some of his former students. He even killed the reporter that had been attached to the team.

"Harry," Hermione stepped closer, "he is the most revolting man I have ever heard of. I did some research in the Restricted Section-"

"How'd you get in-"

"Never mind that. The point is I was right about him being a vampire. Bitten by some Transylvanian count while fighting Outrider. And that's not all. Outrider bit him in the same fight. He's a werewolf too. The reports about him don't conflict. They are both right."

Harry stared numbly at her, trying to comprehend what she had said. A vampire and a werewolf? That's impossible. That would have killed him. "How is that possible?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, but my guess would be Dark Magic. He was just as accomplished in it as most Death Eaters. Used it often, too. The point stands though. He's a monster."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but a shadow fell across them. His eyes widened in fear as Vandermine pulled aside the curtain. Vandermine's eyes flicked from Harry to Hermione.

"Aren't you two supposed to be heading back to your dormitory?"

Harry nodded mutely.

"If I'm interrupting anything important," his eyes moved to Hermione's hand, which was still on Harry's shoulder. "I can leave."

Harry's face reddened as he realized what Vandermine meant. Hermione jerked away from Harry and scowled at him. She rushed out of the alcove, ramming her shoulder into Vandermine's arm as she passed. Vandermine watched her leave and shook his head.

"That kid…" He shrugged and helped Harry out of the alcove, grabbing him by his trembling arm and pulling him into the hallway.

"Dumbledore told me that you had a question for me." He looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry hesitated, his conversation with Hermione replaying in his mind. He started to speak, but then closed his mouth again. He needed time to think.

"Nothing, sir."

Vandermine frowned but did not press the point. "Fine. Some other time, maybe." He turned back towards his office. "Go on and get back to your dormitory. It's almost curfew, and Peeves is nearby somewhere."

As Harry started off towards the Gryffindor room, Vandermine looked over his shoulder and called out,

"I wouldn't recommend alcoves by the way. They don't provide enough privacy."

Harry rushed to the Gryffindor room, his cheeks burning red.