Harry woke up warmly under the thick covers. His eyes still closed, he threw a hand over to where Hermione was. Or at least where she should have been. His hand hit the bed and he opened his eyes to find that she wasn't there.

He got up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and went into the kitchen to find Hermione who was deeply immersed in a copy of the Daily Prophet. Her head was bent low over the table and she didn't hear him enter. In one hand, she had a steaming mug full of tea and was stroking a purring Crookshanks with the other. On her face, she had a look that Harry was only too familiar with. It was the look that showed she was deep in concentration. He watched her for a moment and the softly cleared his throat.

"Anything interesting in there?" He asked her. Her head snapped up so fast that Harry thought she might have given herself an injury. Just as quickly, her head dropped down again and she stared intently at her mug when she spoke.

"No nothing much." She answered. She folded away the newspaper but before she could put it away, he saw a familiar face on the front page. A young man who had jet black hair and vivid green eyes and a lightning bolt shaped scar. Underneath it was a headline: Harry Potter, What Is He Hiding?

His eyes narrowed at Hermione as she made to put the paper away while not showing him the front page.

"So Harry, did you sleep-" she started, trying to sound cheerful, but Harry cut her off quickly.

"Hermione, give me the paper." He said in a voice that brooked no argument from her. She gave him a sympathetic look as she laid the paper out in front of him as he sat down across from her. He saw that the story was continued on page 3 so he turned there immediately.

There was another smaller picture of him there, one from the attack on Diagon Alley. He wondered briefly about who had taken a picture of him when there had been an attack going on but he cast that thought aside. One glance at the bottom of the page showed that it was written by one of Harry's least favorite people.

"Skeeter?" He asked incredulously. "I thought she would have learned her lesson by now."

"She hasn't" Hermione said scathingly. "After I let her out, she started writing horrible stories again. I informed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement about her being an unregistered animagus but she somehow managed to squirm her way out of being punished.

As she was going through the various ways in which she would like to pay Skeeter back for what she had done, Harry read through the article. It posed several exaggerated comments about why Harry had left before the aurors had gotten a statement from him. They accused him of being in league with those that had attacked despite the fact that numerous eyewitnesses claims that Harry had effectively fought off the death-eaters. Rumors were abound that Harry was now in fact allied with Voldemort and that he was in fact responsible for the murder of Rubeus Hagrid. They claimed that he had gotten out of Azkaban not because he was innocent, but because he had bribed and threatened several people in key positions to let him out.

"Oh come on. That doesn't even make any sense. I was locked away. How could I have possibly threatened anyone. The only thing I could have done was to threaten the golems but seeing as they're incapable of speech or hearing or any other form of sensation, that would negate the point." He muttered exasperatedly.

"Don't pay any attention to it Harry. It's just the mindless ramblings of a few idiots. The paper has really gone downhill and I would cancel my subscription if it weren't for the fact that it's good tactics to know what the enemy is saying."

Just as Harry was about to open his mouth and make another scathing comment about the stupidity of the wizarding world in general, the doorbell rang. Biting his tongue, he turned around and headed to the front door. When he opened it, he came face to face with the last person that he wanted to see.

"What are you doing here Weasley?" He uttered dangerously, his voice just barely above a whisper.

"H-H-Harry, I came t-to ap-apologize." Ron stuttered, taking a step back from where he was at seeing the rage in Harry's eyes. He was already so scared shitless that he didn't notice the white aura beginning to form.

"What makes you think that I would ever forgive you? Do you honestly think that you deserve forgiveness? You know what, I once compared us to the marauders the three of us. Hermione was my Remus and you were my Sirius. Now that I come to think of it, you are more like Wormtail. I would have died for you. But you were so jealous that you betrayed your best friend."

"H-Harry please…" Ron began

"Shut up you fool. Don't you get it? I. Hate. You. I never want to see you again for as long as I live. I hope you die an early, painful death. In fact, if you don't get out of my sight in the next 5 seconds, I might be liable to start the process."

The aura had now fully formed to the largest size yet and it was still expanding. Suddenly, it rushed outwards in all directions. For a brief second or two, all anyone could see was white. Even as they shut their eyes, the whiteness filled their screen of vision. In the next moment, it all came rushing back into Harry.

He tossed his head back and took in a deep breath as if it were his first. When he lowered his head and opened his eyes, he was greeted by the humiliating sight of one Ronald Weasley who had just soiled himself. Harry's eyes were glowing all white with no iris or pupils. When he spoke, it was in a deep rumbling voice that echoed loudly off of the walls, making it even more terrifying than it already was.

"Free at last." He said. It was looking in Ron's direction but instead of looking at him, it seemed to look straight through him. Ron ,who seemed to be too terrified to move or do anything else, simply whimpered something unintelligible. Harry or whatever it was noticed him now and locked his gaze onto his.

"You have caused the host much suffering. You will leave now before I decide to rip you limb from limb." With a wave of his hand, Ron vanished with a sound that resembled the shriek of a banshee. Harry turned around to find out that he was on the wrong end of a wand that was being held by Hermione and was pointed straight at his heart.

"Who or what are you?" She asked, making a valiant effort of keeping the fear out of her voice.

Harry's head drooped and rose again, the white glow gone. When he spoke, it was in his regular voice.

"Hermione, its me. Let's go sit down and I'll try to explain it to you as best as I can." He put an arm around a thoroughly shocked witch and led her to the kitchen.

A/N: Can you say irritated?