Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, who did write some truly excellent children's books.

Also multiple people seem to have been confused about when this chapter occurs. There was a massive time skip, and this chapter occurs after the fifth year, ie the year covered by Order of the Pheonix. So Hermione is 16, almost 17.

Hermione hadn't expected the summer after her fifth year would be much fun - and she'd been right. Harry couldn't visit due to an internship he wasn't allowed to talk about. Hermione thought it probably was with the unspeakables, and no doubt it was terribly interesting and educational for Harry, but it meant their normal vacation plans could not happen. Just as bad Harry was barely responding to her letters, he'd only send a few sentences once or twice a week. It felt awful to be cut off suddenly after talking to Harry for at least an hour most days for the past five years.

Hermione had stayed with Luna already this summer, and next week everyone but Harry would stay for a week at the Burrow, but without Harry it wasn't the same. Hermione really missed him, and hoped he never took another job that kept him away from her. She didn't think that was selfish - Harry needed to be near his friends just like she needed to be near Harry.

So on the morning of June 30 Hermione felt a bit sorry for herself as she stumbled downstairs to grab breakfast. In between a gulp of coffee and a bite of muffin the tawny owl that brought her subscription to the Daily Prophet flew in. Hermione absently handed the owl a piece of bacon as she shook open the paper - only to drop her muffin as she absorbed the giant headline "New Terrible Dark Lord? Dozens Dead!" The story beneath read:

Nothing like this has ever occurred, even You-Know-Who never killed on this scale. Much of the government is dead; the first attacks were on the Wizengamot last night, Minister Fudge, Lucius Malfoy, Albert Yaxley, Delores Umbridge and Theodore Nott among many others (full list on page 2) were killed by the assailant who was polyjuiced as the historian Bathilda Bagshot.

After attacking the Wizengamot the killer broke into the Department of Mysteries, and killed the head unspeakable Saul Croaker along with three others. Then the killer stayed in the ministry, killing seven more, including five of the aurors hunting him. The aurors only knew he was gone when people started to die elsewhere.

In Knockturn Alley, Borgin of Borgin and Burkes was the first killed and his shop was completely destroyed, following this three more businesses were destroyed with their owners and eight people doing business in the alley were killed over the next thirty minutes. As night fell people fled to their homes, expecting to be safe; sadly they were not. It is still not clear how many homes were attacked, as the anti apparition wards and destruction of floo connections make it hard to check, however, at least six attacks on houses are confirmed. Around 4 AM Azkaban prison was attacked. The warden is dead as are a majority of the prisoners.

We are facing the greatest threat Magical Britain has seen since the Boy-Who-Lived saved us from You-Know-Who. Maybe an even a greater threat. At this paper we can only wonder, who is this new Dark Lord? What are his intentions? How does he choose who to kill? And can we hunt him down? Will Dumbledore be able to defeat him? Will Harry Potter?

Merlin! he just walked into the press room and killed my boss Barnabus Cuffe. He killed Barnabus right in front of me. He was polyjuiced as Lucius Malfoy; Barnie had his hands up and didn't even try to defend himself; the man just flicked his wand and Barnabus was blown apart.

Hermione frantically turned to page 2. She pushed everything on the table out of the way so she could lay the paper flat, and didn't notice that a plate fell and cracked on the floor. Hermione read the long list with a pounding heart; they hadn't been alphabetized so she had to read every single name, and then she had to read them a second time to make sure she hadn't missed a name.

When she was done Hermione collapsed into her chair and let out a long breath. No one she cared about was dead: the Longbottoms hadn't been attacked, the Lovegoods hadn't been attacked, and the Weasleys hadn't been attacked. Most importantly Harry wasn't on the list; she'd been terrified when she read about the killings in the Department of Mysteries. She looked around and saw the broken plate, but for a minute felt too shaky to clean it up.

When Hermione stood up to clean the mess she imagined what her schoolmates with dead family must feel like; Draco wasn't a friend, but his father was dead. So were Crabbe and Goyle's parents. And Theodore Nott's father - even though Teddy didn't like his father it still must be awful to have him to die so suddenly. And while Neville's house hadn't been attacked, the uncle who'd thrown him out of a window once was dead. And a wizard she corresponded with just a few months ago about a paper in her magical theory class had died. And Hermione still felt scared, and would for weeks. He hadn't yet killed any of her friends, but he might.

A few hours later the entire gang - except Harry, who'd not responded to anyone's letters - had gathered at the Burrow. They crowded into the living room around an old Wizarding Wireless set as they listened for news. The actual murders seemed to have stopped, but dead bodies continued to be discovered as aurors checked people's houses to see if they were still alive. A pair had stopped by the Burrow an hour ago and stayed just long enough to hear who was there.

There was a barely touched pile of biscuits and cake on the counter. Molly cooked when nervous, but nobody was hungry. She bustled in and out of the room asking "would anyone like some tea?" Molly had a clock she kept glancing at, its hands pointed to where her family members were, and reassuringly they all pointed at home. But with a new dark lord you couldn't trust you were safe because a clock didn't point at mortal peril.

Mr. Lovegood sat on the edge of the Weasley's red sofa with his arm around Luna, with a quill scribbling into his notebook as he worked on the lead article for the next issue of the Quibbler; Hermione sat next to Luna and tightly gripped her hand as she desperately tried not to think about how Harry still didn't answer.

Mr. Weasley looked old and sick in a dressing gown and cap while parts of his body uncontrollably spasmed every few minutes. The twins had told Hermione in a serious tone, "Dad fought You-Know-Who with Dumbledore, so he thought he could help the aurors find the attacker."

Fred finished for his brother, "An auror standing right next to him was blown apart, Dad woke up covered with bits and pieces of him - the healers say he'll be fine but the spell used to knock Dad out disables the nervous system for a while."

"Mum had to spoon feed him this morning," Ginny added in a worried voice.

Neville was on the far end of the faded sofa with his arm around Ginny. With every new announcement he'd squeeze her; Neville's grandmum was at a special session of the Wizengamot to pick the temporary minister and plan how to fight the new dark lord. The location was secret and Dumbledore was there, so it should be safe. But Neville had said, "the killer can find where it is, nobody else has been able to hide from him. And what if he could beat Dumbledore?"

There were no announcements about an attack on the session, instead the nasally voice of the host would read out, "Witnesses report seeing a suspicious man near Hogsmeade, could it be the killer?" and "Three bodies found next to the international portkey office in Diagon Alley."

Most of the broadcast was far more terrifying; they interviewed people who'd survived. "Mrs. Corner please tell us what you saw."

"It was horrible," Michael Corner's great aunt spoke with a badly slurred voice as she also was recovering from the spell the attacker used on Mr. Weasley, "he walked into the store and just waved his wand a bit, there wasn't any sound, and Borgin - Merlin, he was there alive one moment and a second later his blood was painted everywhere and he turned to me and I was sure for a second I would die. I can't believe Borgin is dead, I've been friends with him since Hogwarts; I've spent the whole day shaking from this damn spell and wondering what I'll say to John about how I was there when his father was killed."

The host said cautiously, "I - I'm sorry to be the one to tell you. Martha, John Borgin was killed last night with his wife. I thought you knew."

"Excuse me, I - I need to go" there was a sound of stumbling as the woman left the room.

After she was gone the host said, "Merlin, I really thought she knew - John was Mrs. Corner's godson." There was a long silence, "I bloody hate him. I thought when You-Know-Who was defeated - I thought I'd never have to watch so many learn their families are dead again. It's sick, and it's wrong, and, by Merlin, I hope he dies horribly."

As she sat squeezing Luna's hand, Hermione knew she'd always remember this day; dark lords and wizarding wars had always been something which happened in books. She'd been alive when You-Know-Who was stopped, but it felt like history not part of her life. And now she was terrified. Now a horrific murderer was attacking people, and nobody could stop him. If he decided to kill her she'd die. If he decided to kill any of her friends, even Harry, they'd die. And she didn't no where Harry was.

Eventually the wireless announced Dumbledore was the provisional minister for magic. He'd hold the post until new elections were held in six months. Amelia Bones resigned as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after the spectacular failure of her aurors, and was replaced by Rufus Scrimgeour. Hermione had met Susan's aunt several times and thought it was unfair; Scrimgeour probably wouldn't have done better. Dumbledore spoke briefly, in an extremely grave tone, Hermione only remembered fragments of what he said, "Love is a greater magic than hate. We know we will triumph over evil due to the care we have for one another" and "do not hate him, let us pity this man, and all like him who live without love."

It was only after two days of frantic letters from Hermione that Harry sent a scribbled note "I'm fine, don't worry, I'm perfectly safe. Very busy though. I'm looking forward to seeing you again." Obviously Hermione did worry. Harry was from a old rich family - exactly the sort of person the killer might go after. And Sirius was from an even richer family with dark connections; Hermione was sure he'd have been killed at Azkaban if he'd still been there.

How Harry acted was very odd. He should have done more than send her a few short notes, and when Harry wrote longer letters several weeks after the original killings he never talked about the killings and ignored her questions and comments about them.

When she visited Luna's house Hermione shoved Harry's most recent letter in Luna's face, "What is bloody wrong with him?"

Luna grabbed the pair of glasses she'd claimed earlier let her see a small imaginary species; she looked carefully at the letter through the garish blue and pink lenses, "There definitely are signs of a wrackspurt infestation." Hermione felt irritated as Luna looked back at her and said seriously, while still wearing the spectrespecs, "Hermione, Harry doesn't want to talk about it: perhaps it brings up bad memories for him; maybe he's even been involved in trying to find the attacker and wants to focus on something more pleasant when talking to you."

That made sense. Hermione knew enough about his nightmares to know he'd lived through people close to him dying. So many dying so suddenly must have brought up awful memories. Especially if he knew more about who the new dark lord was than the general public; it was very possible that he did. What really was Harry's summer job?

The anxiety that had ebbed out over the past weeks spiked again as Hermione sat down on Luna's grey couch. Was Harry still in danger? Luna scooted next to her and gave Hermione a tight hug "I'm worried about him too - everyone I know of who was killed had been mean, and Harry can be a bit mean sometimes; I hope they realize he is always mean because he is really nice."

Hermione hugged Luna back; for the last weeks she'd felt like she had the time an emergency made her parents stay at work for hours after closing. They had been too busy to call her, and she knew they were probably fine but kept worrying more and more as time went by. Except when they finally called home Hermione knew they were okay. This didn't end. After a minute Luna continued, "I was really worried for Harry that first day when we were sitting together at the Weasleys' but if they wanted Harry they would have attacked him already. So I'm not worried anymore. Besides I'm sure they can tell he isn't really mean"

Hermione asked Luna, "You think mean people are being killed?" Hermione knew why Luna thought Harry could be mean, Luna was convinced the only reason her housemates didn't make her life miserable was because they were scared of Harry.

"Neville's uncle was really mean, you know what he did to Neville as a kid, and Barnabus Cuffe said really awful things about Daddy and the Quibbler. And - " Luna glanced side to side and lowered her voice, "I overheard a relative of his talking once, supposedly, he'd rape muggle women and then obliviate them."

"So you think our new dark lord is a vigilante who kills bad people?" Hermione asked skeptically. "Also," Hermione firmly added before Luna could respond, "It doesn't matter - nobody should take justice into their own hands, and anyone who decides they have the right to kill dozens of people is a monster."

Luna pulled her legs beneath her on the couch, "Oh, I suppose you are right - even Batman never kills anybody. Still I feel better thinking they are only killing bad people."

Hermione responded sharply, "Murder is murder. It doesn't matter who is murdered - and I don't believe everyone he killed is a rapist or otherwise bad."

A week before Hogwarts started, Harry was back. Moments after she received the owl announcing his arrival at 12 Grimmauld Place Hermione grabbed her permanent portkey and was there. Harry dozed on the red and yellow couch in the front living room. He'd lost ten pounds, his skin looked whiter than she'd ever seen it, he had prominent bruised circles around his eyes and a red rash that extended up his right forearm.

Sirius walked into the room behind her and touched Hermione on shoulder to lead her out. Sirius looked tired too - and he was nervous and twitchy, like the first year after Azkaban. He'd seen a mind healer for two years after that awful place. Hermione wondered if the murders had triggered flashbacks, and if he'd been as scared for himself and Harry as she had been for him and Harry.

"Best let Harry sleep for a bit, he's been - sick - only mostly recovered now. Just like James - no rest, always pushing himself too hard." They sat around the big wooden table in the kitchen, and the way Sirius glanced repeatedly towards the living room door frightened Hermione. Harry had scared even Sirius.

As Hermione sipped the excellent tea Dobby had given her, she asked, "What happened to his arm?"

Sirius glanced at the door, and frowned "Too much magic and no rest; also a nasty burn which the crazy boy never gave time to heal - it was swelled up to twice the normal size and he kept casting - took two weeks after he stopped to get to where it is now."

Hermione had seen Harry fly and exercise, so she knew he could happily ignore his own safety and comfort, but… honestly, that sounded extreme even for Harry. "Just what was he doing that drove him to keep going like that?"

Sirius nervously glanced around the room, "Uh - can't tell you, uh - non disclosure agreement and all. Shouldn't have said this much."

Sirius stopped talking, and during the awkward silence nervously glanced around the room, as if he expected dementors to attack at any moment. A feeling of unease settled in Hermione's stomach, whatever Harry had done over the summer was far worse than she'd thought. Sirius' nervousness was contagious, and as they slowly sipped their tea her anxiety intensified. To distract herself Hermione desperately looked for a topic of conversation: "Awful, really awful what that murderer did - were you two worried he might attack you?"

Sirius startled and gave her a wide eyed stare "No - no. I mean - yes it was absolutely frightening. Awful what he did. Was pretty sure Harry and me could take care of ourselves though, and we were out of the way. So - no worries," Sirius smiled with his teeth, "how about you?"

There was a false note to how Sirius spoke. When he finished Harry stumbled into the kitchen, bleary eyed from his nap, but with a smile. "Hullo Mione."

Hermione stared at him as a broad smile pulled across her face, and then she jumped up and wrapped Harry in a tight hug. After a moment he responded with his own hug. He was alright and alive. Nothing had happened to him. As she held Harry she noticed Sirius quickly sneak past them.

"Harry James Potter, don't ever scare me like that again. People were dying everywhere and I couldn't talk to you. I thought, I thought for those two days when you didn't respond that you were maybe - well that you were maybe one of those dead bodies, stuffed in a building that hadn't yet been searched. Merlin I was so scared. I thought your internship was maybe the Department of Mysteries, and they'd been attacked so badly."

With the emotional release of seeing Harry again Hermione started to cry while still smiling broadly, as she shook him. Harry looked at her with a happy smile and rubbed her back while murmuring "I'm okay, I'm sorry - I won't do that again. Mione, I really am fine - not hurt at all."

That last comment didn't help - Hermione pulled back, "Sirius told me you used too much magic and didn't treat a burn - how could you be so stupid? I know you want to find your limits, but even you should care that you could destroy your arm, or cause permanent damage - or don't you care that using too much magic isn't good for you - especially at our age - who were the awful people who made you?"

Harry smiled wider, "Don't worry, I've learned my lesson, I won't push so hard next time."

Hermione looked Harry over once again, and with a superior tone sniffed "Hmph, see that you don't."

They sat down around the light colored kitchen table and Dobby popped in to give Harry a cup of tea and replace Hermione's. Despite how tired and ill he seemed Harry looked happy. He'd been stressed and busy, working on things he could not talk about related to his internship for the last three months of the school year. And when he popped out of the library or the come-and-go-room, to talk or hang out, he was tightly wound and he never fully relaxed. Right now Harry looked looser than she'd ever seen him, slouched in his chair, smiling while swishing the tea around his cup, and slowly sipping.

"Fraid I can't tell you much about my summer - it was terribly busy, as you've gathered, but a lot of fun and very satisfying - how were you?"

This went beyond Luna's theory that Harry didn't want to talk about it with her; it was as though Harry had been completely unaffected by the horror that rolled through the Wizarding World - if Hermione met an acquaintance in Diagon Alley the conversation inevitably would include, 'Oh where were you when you heard - do you think the aurors will catch him? No I don't either.' When Hermione met Daphne Greengrass after she'd returned from the hidden location her family had fled to Daphne said, "I'm still so scared; I haven't been able to sleep well for weeks because every creak makes me think he is about it to break in and kill us."

Hermione's mouth fell open as she incredulously looked at her nonchalant friend, "Well a dark lord decided to destroy the government and killed more than a hundred people. But otherwise it was lots of fun."

Harry straightened and put down his tea, "Yes, but - hmmm, I suppose I can see how it would be terribly frightening - but really," Harry's face twisted into a smirk, "They are calling him a new dark lord in the Prophet?"

"What?" Hermione's mouth hung open again, she leaned forward across the table, "You can't possibly have ignored all of the coverage - how could you have been that busy?"

"Well after the - work load - lightened I didn't want to know what they were saying - The Prophet's rubbish anyways. But a dark lord, really?"

Harry's attitude angered Hermione - how could he find this amusing. People were dead, the world would never be the same, and he thought it was funny that the Daily Prophet called the murderer a dark lord. "Well," Hermione slapped her hands on the table, "what would you call someone who murders a hundred people and destroys the government?"

Harry shrugged and slouched back into his chair before he sipped his tea again, "I don't know, always thought 'dark lord' implied a desire to rule something, clearly he isn't trying to take over, unless…" Harry's mouth twisted into a mischievous smile, "It was Dumbledore."

"I never would have believed it of you - that you would treat this like a joke. It is awful and horrible, and so many innocent people were killed - and now that you're back from wherever you disappeared to maybe he'll come after you and Sirius, and - and - " Hermione felt herself start to cry again.

Harry set his cup down again and leaned forward to touch her elbow - "Sorry Hermione, it is serious. And - but you have nothing to worry about, me and Sirius don't fit the pattern anyways and -"

"What do you mean - you are both prominent and politically involved - and Sirius was in Azkaban and had been accused of working with You-Know-Who."

Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it, and with his head tilted he slowly asked "Is that how the Daily Prophet thinks targets are chosen, rich and politically involved?"

"Well, how do you think he chose his targets?"

Harry frowned at the table, then he looked her in the eye with a hard glint that caused Hermione's anxiety to surge again,"I thought the pattern was obvious."

Harry stopped and gave Hermione a look that said she should be able to figure it out herself. She had spent the summer reading newspaper reports, and thinking about ways the aurors might be able to catch him, and thinking about ways someone, ways she, might defend herself if attacked - and Hermione had attended several funerals and memorial services for relatives of classmates. And she had talked to friends as everyone tried to comfort each other. But despite her conversation with Luna she'd never thought about what the murderer wanted to accomplish.

The killer was evil and that was enough. Many of the dead were criminals who'd worked with You-Know-Who, but not everyone had any connection: Mafalda Hopkirk worked in the ministry department tracking underage magic use, Minister Fudge had been an auror who fought You-Know-Who, and the aurors he killed were brave civil servants protecting everyone.

However, Hermione couldn't think of any muggleborns who had died. Which was statistically improbable. But she wasn't sure, it wasn't like she could tell from a name in a list if the dead wizard had magical or muggle parents. Politically prominent and well connected wizards had been the main targets (along with criminals), which excluded most muggleborns - but what connected them politically? It probably was something about You-Know-Who since he'd killed everyone connected with the old dark lord.

Hermione remembered how Dolores Umbridge had forced Professor Lupin to leave Hogwarts. Everyone who had vocally supported her had been killed. Had he murdered all of the politically prominent people who opposed creature and muggleborn rights? And was it only people who opposed creature and muggleborn rights? Hermione had an excellent memory and she had read the Daily Prophet religiously since she came to Hogwarts. She spent several minutes trying to remember what she had seen about each name. The pattern held; every time she'd seen the name of someone who was killed, they had been in favor of protecting traditional rights for pureblood wizards or imposing tighter controls on magical creatures. Some magical creatures had been killed, but Hermione was fairly sure they all had connections to You-Know-Who like Fenrir Greyback.

"It doesn't make any sense," Hermione looked at Harry, "Why would an evil person want to stop discrimination?"

Harry's face had an odd expression, like he'd tasted something weird and couldn't decide if he liked it or not. Eventually he shrugged "well at least you can see the pattern."

Hermione realized something horrible - it was in his body language, his good mood, and what he said "You - you approve of what happened. You think it was a good thing that all those people were killed - that Mr. Weasley was splattered with - with blood, and still has nightmares, that the Minister was killed, that Draco doesn't have a father anymore - you approve of all of this because you didn't like the politics of the people who were murdered."

Harry replied with the vicious tone she'd only heard before when he talked about Dumbledore, "sometimes Hermione, sometimes people deserve to be murdered, and sometimes there needs to be a murderer. And sometimes," Harry leaned forward and almost shouted, "sometimes it is good when people die!"

Harry settled back into his chair, and took a deep breath to force himself to release his anger. During the silence that followed Harry grabbed his tea, and the red rash on his hand and forearm caught Hermione's eye again, and with a sickening realization she knew. Suddenly everything made sense. Harry was the killer. Harry must have seen it in her eyes because he tensed, and then relaxed with a sad expression that looked old. "No! No, it can't be you" Hermione shrieked.

Harry silently watched her with what she knew was a pitying expression.

"How could you? Why?" Hermione was too shocked to do anything stare at Harry as he replied.

With a deep breath Harry began, "I suppose I should explain - I suppose I want you to know - I'd have acted differently if I didn't. And you wanted to know why I was so weird." Harry's face twisted into a humorless smile, "This will sound rather unbelievable, just how it happened is extremely confusing - I never properly understood and gave up trying years ago - I went through something like time travel, but completely different from what a time turner does. I suppose this is my second life. I lived as Harry Potter once before until I was 24. I went to Hogwarts with you and Ron and Neville and everyone; except it wasn't you but a different you. And almost everyone was killed in the war."

A grief-stricken look flashed over Harry's face as he looked down at the table, but he shook away the feeling and continued, "Anyways, I got revenge, and then I went to Africa as a mercenary. Eventually I became rather arrogant; I had all three of the deathly hallows which made it devilishly hard to kill me, even indirectly, which is how those with the deathstick usually die. So I stopped being careful. Actually, I think I wanted to die. I walked right into an ambush, but instead of trying to kill me this group of African shamans tricked me into stepping into a ritual circle; there was a burst of magic, and suddenly I'm living the day I learned I was wizard and got my first wand again. Also, I had the absolute worst headache of my life."

Harry stared at the residue in the bottom of his tea cup, "Right confusing it was, finding myself eleven again, with everyone still alive, except, not really alive. You aren't her you know, you were the same person she had been when she was eleven, but that didn't make you her." Harry continued with a depressed frown, "she was still dead."

Harry didn't speak for a moment, then he forced himself to continue, "Anyways when I was sorted into Slytherin - first time round I was Gryffindor you know - I decided it was sign that I probably shouldn't interact with the old gang. I wasn't the same person at all and probably not the sort who should be near kids."

Harry looked contemplative as he stared past Hermione at a blank spot on the wall - Hermione didn't think to interrupt. She didn't doubt the story at all; it all fit, and it answered the questions she'd always had about him. Harry continued with a nostalgic voice, "you were so lonely, and so young, and - you looked so unhappy, I'd kept an eye on you, and you cried on your birthday. I knew then I needed to do something…" Harry trailed off, "Anyways you've lived the rest."

He straightened and his hard look returned, "As for 'why', In that first life they brought Voldemort back, and they won. All of you were dead. Neville, Luna, Ginny, Fred and George, Molly, McGonagall and Snape - all of you died in that battle. And then those people proceeded to kill every muggleborn left in Britain, and every muggleborn child, and their families. So I killed them all. And when I found myself here I knew immediately I'd kill them all again; they deserved to die, and I wasn't going to wait for it to be revenge. And that is what I am," Harry flung his arms out and gestured at himself, "a killer."

Hermione sat pale and shaking, there was no way she could pretend it wasn't true. He'd boldy, proudly proclaimed himself the murderer. She was in a room with the worst murderer since You-Know-Who. He'd was a monster.

When Harry leaned forward a bit Hermione startled back, jumping up and knocking her chair over; she was suddenly scared of the boy - monster - who'd been her best friend. She clutched her wand tightly. Harry looked at her with a frown, "Hermione, I'm so sorry, I was only thinking of myself when I told you - I hadn't thought how it would hurt you. I - I shouldn't have told you -"

He got up, and Hermione stumbled against the wall and waved her wand at Harry "Stay away, don't hurt me - don't!" Harry backed away.

Hermione stood there, pressed against the wall, her hand shaking as she kept her wand pointed at Harry. The hair was the same, it was still black and messy and still fell over his forehead, the famous scar was still there and Harry wore a Chudley Cannons T-shirt she'd seen him wear a dozen times. But everything was different. Like a stranger wore the body of her best friend; for an instant Hermione wondered if it might be someone else polyjuiced to look like Harry. Sadly, that didn't make sense.

After several minutes Harry took a deep breath, "Alright, unless you want me to obliviate you, I'm going to need a binding vow to prevent you from telling anyone. It won't be a dangerous spell; I'm sure you can find a way to give Dumbledore enough hints to figure it out. Don't. I hate him. You know I do. Unfortunately he isn't evil and I can't kill someone just because he is a horrible leader. But if he comes for me…" Harry trailed off with a vicious smile, "So think before you try to tell him."

Hermione put her wand away, it was pointless, even without holding his wand she knew how good Harry's wandless magic was. Hermione felt tears stream down her face as she said, "You're a monster. You were right, people like you shouldn't be near children."

Harry had a haunted look as he replied, "I suppose you are right; you always are."

I hoped you enjoyed reading; did you know that you aren't supposed to italicize 'the' in a newspaper title? It should be 'the Daily Prophet' not 'The Daily Prophet'. Things you learn writing fan fiction. Also my current guess is that it will be a bit over 40k words, not 30k. Things do grow, when I published chapter one I hadn't yet realized I needed a chapter between the first year chapter and this. So it could have been an even more abrupt time jump. Review if you think Hermione should have behaved differently when she found out. Review if you think she behaved exactly the way she should.