They had never believed him, when he woke. They dragged him away, ignoring his claims of innocence. The tests showed that he had done it, had murdered them all, but he knew that he was innocent. He had not done it. They would not listen to him tough, not to a wanted outlaw, charge with other crimes that he had not done. He was alone in the world.

Someone entered the cell and he sat up straight. The old, wizened wizard smiled down at him through his glasses.

"Hello, Vandermine. I am Dumbledore. I have come to help you."

"Why didn't you show this to me in the library?" Harry shook his head in disgust, turning away from Hermione before she could respond. "What were you thinking?"

"Harry, I'm sorry." Her voice broke and she buried her head in her hands. "I did not want to have to show you that. I thought that-"

"That what?" He rounded on her, eyes burning with anger. "That I did not need to know that my teacher is a psychotic murdering mutant-creature? That I wouldn't care? Hermione, do you know what this means?"

She bit back a sob and nodded. "I was just hoping that I would not be the one to show it to you. Honestly, Harry, I thought that Dumbledore would-"

"Admit that he instated a nutjob? Think realistically, Hermione! Black is loose, within striking distance of Hogwarts and we've got him in charge of the school's security. What if he is the one who let him in? How stupid can you-"

Hermione stood unsteadily. "Harry, stop it. That's not fair." Her eyes were watery with tears.

Harry widened his eyes in mock fear. "Or what? You'll slap me around like you did Ron? You could use the practice."

Even as the words left his mouth, Harry regretted them. Hermione froze, staring at him with the look of a wounded animal. Her bottom lip trembled slightly as the full impact of the words hit her. Harry felt the same sinking feeling he had felt when he had read the article.

"You meant that." Her voice was flat, neither accusing nor hurt. She stared at Harry for a second longer before she started crying. Harry moved in to comfort her, holding his arms out.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from."

She brushed him off and ran for the girls stairway, with her face buried in her arms. Harry heard her weeping all the way up until the door slammed shut. He swore and kicked at a nearby seat, bruising his toe in the process. He collapsed into the chair feeling completely drained. Too much had happened today. He had been hit with too much information.

Harry idly picked up his wand from the table and aimed it at a cup. He concentrated hard on it and the cup buckled, falling in on itself as magical energy compressed it into a tiny ball. He shook his head in an effort to clear the images dancing in his mind; images of Vandermine wearing a Death Eater mask, Vandermine laughing at them all from inside the privacy of his office.

The thought that Vandermine might have been a Death Eater unnerved Harry, because he could see a lot of qualities in Vandermine that would have made him a prime soldier for Voldemort. He was arrogant, powerful, well-versed in both Dark and non-Dark magic. If he had been a supporter of Voldemort, the whole world could have been a different place.

None of it made sense though. Harry had spoken with Vandermine, had seen him teaching. He did not come across as the type that could do something as horrible as what the article had accused him of doing. Kill Death Eaters and criminals, definitely. But to murder his own wife and child? To lay a trap for two of his best friends, leaving them to be tortured by a Death Eater? Harry grimaced. It did not seem possible. As odd and strange as Vandermine was, stooping to evils that low seemed like something that only someone of Voldemort's caliber could do. Vandermine felt too good for that.

Harry sighed and stared into the fireplace, trying to find answers in the flames. He lost track of time as he watched them, flickering back and forth and jumping from one log to the next. Gradually, his eyelids closed and his wand slipped from his grasp. He thought about picking it up, then his head dropped onto his chest and he fell asleep.

Footsteps echoed all around as he descended into the cavern. He walked carefully, placing each foot with care to avoid loose stones and puddles. Somewhere up ahead he heard them. He could smell them, their dank fur reminding him of wet Welcome mats after a heavy rain. His enhanced sense of sight was immensely helpful. He smiled grimly as he saw the faint traces of heat left by their footsteps. They were over an hour old.

Wand at the ready, he continued forward, entering deeper into the cave, eyes open for any signs of danger. In his left hand he held a low caliber pistol. He hated bringing the thing into here. The darned thing was probably already ruined from the waterfall he had swum under to get here. He thought about leaving it behind, but a nagging voice in his head told him to keep it.

Suddenly, it happened. Bursts of light came from everywhere. He cast a shield in time to deflect the majority of the spells, but it imploded under the barrage, bursting in a brilliant display of colors. His eyes burned from the sudden light, blinding him. Then he was thrown off his feet as a new spell ripped through the color-field, hitting him square in the chest. His body flew several feet in the air, right into a stalagmite. Pain exploded in his shoulder as the stalagmite pierced his shoulder, ripping his shoulder out of its socket…

"Harry!"

A hand grabbed Harry's shoulder and he jerked awake. A burning sensation coursed through his upper body. Ron and a crowd of Gryffindors were standing over him. As Harry's eyes focused, Percy pushed his way through the crowd and knelt by his side.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Where am I?"

Ron held out a hand, which Harry accepted. As he climbed to his feet, Ron patted his back down. "In the common room, where else?"

Harry blinked stupidly and looked down at his right shoulder. His robes were smoldering and blood trickled out from a gaping cut on his back. His arm hung loose at his side, probably dislocated.

"What happened to my arm?" He felt a little numb, too shocked to feel the nerves in his shoulder.

"What happened?" Ron looked at him with an expression of disbelief. "Bloody hell, Harry, you were rolling and screaming all over the bloody place. Woke up half the tower, with that crap. I was running down the stairs when you sat up straight and threw yourself at the fireplace. You got nicked something awful by that poker." He pointed to the fireplace and Harry looked over. A poker was sitting by the fire, its tip glistening with Harry's blood. His mouth dropped in amazement.

"Wow."

"Heck, wow. Listen to this tough guy." Fred and George pushed their way through the crowd, clicking their tongues at him in mock disapproval. "It's about time you learned not to play with fire, Harry. Not good for your health."

Percy scowled at them and motioned for everyone to back off. "Right, then. You're off to Madame Pompfrey's, no buts. That is a serious cut on your shoulder, not to mention you definitely dislocated it. What in the blazes possessed you to make you do that, Harry?"

Harry started to shrug, but stopped when a blazing pain shot through his shoulder. He groaned and clutched at his shoulder. Percy winced and waved Ron over.

"Here, Ron come help me. You help him, I'll make sure you don't get in trouble."

Ron nodded and put his arm around Harry's uninjured shoulder. Harry accepted the arm and started off towards the hospital wing, leaning on Ron for support. Percy went on ahead of them, leaving Ron and Harry alone in the hallway. They trudged along in silence, neither speaking for quite some time. Then, to Harry's surprise, Ron laughed.

"What's so funny?" Harry gave Ron a strange look, which Ron ignored.

"Well, it's not that funny," Ron started, "but just a couple days ago we were in the same position, except I was the one getting dragged along."

"Oh, yeah." Harry chuckled at the thought. It really had only been two days ago, when Ron had been sent to the hospital.

"Yeah," Ron stopped laughing suddenly and his face grew hard. "that was because that little prude got all-"

"Ron." Harry stopped walking, glaring at him. Ron continued walking for a few steps, jerking Harry's injured shoulder painfully before he realized that Harry had stopped.

"What?" Ron gave him a it's-not-my-fault look. "I'm not the one who went flipping mental and started beating on her. Or are you siding with her on this one? 'Ron deserved that, because Hermione's hot.'"

Harry's cheeks flushed and he shot Ron a nasty look. "Shut up, Ron. Give her a break, alright."

"Why should I? What has she done to deserve a break?" Ron pulled Harry around to face him and pointed to his face. Faint lines still showed on his face from where Hermione had scratched him. "Look at what she did!"

Harry bit back a retort and broke off from Ron's grip. "You don't understand, Ron. I…" he exhaled sharply, trying to think of how to tell him the truth. "There's no easy way to tell you this."

"Tell me what? That you're ditching me for her! That she's more important than me?" Ron snarled and turned back towards the dormitory. "Fine, do that."

"Ron, it's not like that. I'm not 'ditching' anyone. You two are my best friends."

"Well, it's about time you picked one, Harry. I'll see you later. I need some sleep before tomorrow's Potions class."

Harry reached out and grabbed Ron's robe with his injured hand, biting his tongue to prevent a scream escaping his lips. "Darn it, Ron. Wait a minute."

Ron turned reluctantly, his eyes staring blankly at the ground. "What?"

"I need to tell you about what Hermione showed me. Yesterday at lunch. It's about Vandermine."

Ron's eyes flashed angrily. "What about him? Fed you more of her trash, has she? Is that why you've taken her side? Or is it because you're trying to go out with her?"

Harry gaped at Ron in shock, feeling betrayed. "What? What could possibly make you think-"

"Oh, yeah." Ron returned his look, cheeks bright red. "Believe it or not, I can actually do that on my own. I don't need your help, or her help. I heard how you went to sit with her at lunch, how Kathryn Stringer left you two at the library, how Vandermine caught you two in the alcove outside his classroom. I know how to put two and two together, Harry."

Harry laughed bitterly at Ron's ignorance. "Oh, yeah? And I bet you were also smart enough to figure out that that makes three, huh. You're absolutely wrong. If you had any brains at all in there, you'd see that we weren't doing anything."

"Stupid, am I?" Ron spat at Harry's feet. "How stupid is this?" he knocked Harry's arm back. "I'm through. I don't need the precious little 'Boy-Who-Lived' to get through school. Find yourself another idiot to boss around. This one's had enough."

He stormed down the hall back in the direction of the dormitory. Harry watched him leave, stunned.

Madame Pompfrey hurried him into a bed, muttering quietly about the recklessness of the younger students. Harry obeyed her quietly, leaning over onto his side as she applied a magical salve onto the wound.

"Well," she said as the salve attached itself to the edges of the wound. "At least you didn't waste any time getting here. If you had been here minutes later, it would have been hard indeed to heal fully."

Harry nodded numbly, his eyes focused on the stand by his bed. He felt empty, like something had just been ripped out of him. Ron and Hermione, both of them, were gone. He had just lost his two best friends in one evening. What on earth had he done to deserve this?

His eyes stung with tears as Madame Pompfrey left the room. A wave of helplessness washed over him as he stared at the stand. He bit his lip to keep a sob from escaping. It was still sinking in what had just happened in the hallway. Ron couldn't leave him. They had the same classes, had stayed in the same house, shared the same jokes. If he left, it would be like he had had one half of his soul ripped out.

And Hermione, he would fail school if it weren't for her. She helped him with his work, she always found some way to cheer them up. He could not imagine what life would be like without hanging out with her. Now, he had probably split their friendship too, all because he was too pigheaded to control his emotions. Why did he have to lose control on her? Why couldn't it have been on someone else?

Tears flowed unchecked down his cheeks as he laid in the bed. He shuddered at the prospect of facing school without them. It was like facing a dementor without a wand. He stare at the stand for an hour before falling asleep. Thankfully, he did not have anymore dreams that night.

When Harry woke, he looked around anxiously, hoping that he had just woken from a bad dream. To his dismay, it wasn't a dream. He was lying on a bed in the hospital wing, his shoulder wrapped in bandages. He groaned aloud and dropped his head on the pillow.

"Mr. Potter you've got a visitor."

Harry turned his head towards the door, hoping to see Ron or, even better, Hermione. He could imagine he entering, slowly and with a few tears, apologizing for having wronged him, hoping that he would forgive her, him reaching up to hug her as she burst into tears, professing her love for him…

Neville peaked his head around the door. "Hello Harry."

"Oh," Harry let out a sigh and nodded. So much for that. "Hello, Neville."

Neville walked into the room carrying a badly wrapped box. He set it down on the stand by Harry's bed. Harry guessed it was candy, judging by the smell.

"I heard that you were in the hospital wing, so I thought I'd give you a visit, see how you were doing."

Harry grinned slightly and held out his hand. Neville grabbed it and shook it firmly. "It's good to see that you're doing alright. That was a nasty stab you got."

Neville grimaced as he looked at the bandage on Harry's shoulder. "Hurts, doesn't it."

He nodded and Neville swallowed hard. Seeing that Neville was affected by the wound, Harry looked for a change in topic. He pointed quickly at the box.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, yeah, that." Neville handed it to Harry, taking care to not drop it. "It's a load of stuff from the Hogsmeade trip last week. I'd been saving it for later, but I figured you could use some. It's okay, they aren't getting old or anything. Designed to stay fresh for over a year, they are."

"Really? Thanks, Neville." Harry opened the package carefully, examining the contents one at a time. Chocolate Frogs, Every Flavor Beans, Licorice Snaps, there was enough candy in there to last Harry a few days. "Wow, thanks a lot, Neville." He pulled out two Chocolate Frogs, offering one to Neville.

"Want one?"

Neville grinned and accepted it. Opening the little box, he looked around the room, as if noticing the lack of people for the first time.

"Have Ron or Hermione stopped by yet? I figured that they'd have come by now, but it doesn't look like it."

Harry's stomach lurched and he faced away from Neville, hiding his face as it turned red. "We've, um, had a little disagreement. I haven't heard from either yet."

"Really?" Neville raised an eyebrow in surprise, making Harry feel even worse. "Sorry about that. I didn't know. They have been acting a little odd though. I figured it would have blown on by now, but they were still acting at it at lunch."

"Lunch?" It was Harry's turn to look surprised. "What time is it?"

"Roughly half past four." Neville shrugged. "I came straight from the last class to get here."

"So I've been out for…"

"About sixteen and a half hours."

Harry placed his head back on the pillow and frowned. For all that sleep, he did not feel the least bit rested.

"Harry, look!" Neville stood up, knocking his chair over as he gaped at the card he had pulled from the Chocolate Frog box. "I got Vandermine!"

Harry shot back up, wincing as a spasm of pain rocked his shoulder.

"You got who?"

"Vandermine!" Neville held out the card so Harry could see it. His eyes were shining and he laughed. "He's one of the rarest, he is. There were barely any made of him. Less than fifty!"

Harry took the card and looked at it, flipping it over in the palm of his hand. The card showed a much brighter, more handsome Vandermine. He was scarred, the scars looked fresh, but his face looked much younger than now. The card read:

Lucas Vandermine, Auror, Order of Merlin First-Class.

A young Auror, renowned for defeating the renegade wizard-werewolf Johannes Outrider, subduing a giant insurrection in Scotland, and capturing an ancient Hungarian Horntail dragon that had escaped its colony in Romania. He teaches at the Ministry of Magic's Auror Academy.

"How old is this card?" Harry flipped it back to the portrait. Vandermine smiled at him and laughed roguishly.

"About ten years old, but the Frog is new. Old cards are recycled back into new Frog-boxes every year or two."

"Yeah," Harry looked back at the mini-biography. "Order of Merlin First-Class, huh. Didn't know about that one. How'd he get it?"

Neville leaned forward excitedly, his eyes glittering with joy. "He got it for defeating Outrider. My mum and dad presented it to him. They went with him, to fight Outrider. They were captured by him and his band of were-creatures, but Vandermine saved them. Together they fought Outrider and brought him down."

"You mom and dad went with him?"

"Yeah. Back then, it was still early in his career, and naturally, the Ministry would not entrust such an important mission to one lone Auror-"

"Important? Just how bad was Outrider?"

Neville's face darkened for a moment as he thought of how to answer Harry's question.

"He was bad. Almost as bad as You-Know-Who. He was old, at least three hundred years old. Rumor has it he had been a major wizard in Germany, until he was ambushed and bitten by a werewolf. The wizarding community cast him out, even though he had been a great leader. He grew bitter, I think, and wanted revenge for being kicked out. About ten years after he was exiled, the people that had presided over his exile started dying. Some by curses, some killed by his own hands, none survived more than two years after the first one died. A great manhunt was launched in an effort to find him and bring him to justice, but he escaped and flew east, to Russia. No one heard about him for a long time. Then, about fifty years ago, he came back."

"How did he survive that long?"

"He had used Dark Magic to survive. Leeched life out of people, I think." Harry shuddered at the thought. "Anyway, he had truly become a monster. He had been infected for so long that he had been permanently transformed into a werewolf, except he retained his knowledge and skills. A werewolf with a wand, a very bad combination." Harry nodded mutely, thinking about Vandermine. He was a werewolf. "He used Dark Magic to corrupt the animals around him, turning them into hideous beasts. He launched a personal war on the wizarding community. Wizards all across Germany began disappearing, murdered. It was only a matter of time before the Ministry was forced to act."

"And they sent Vandermine?"

"Vandermine volunteered. Most Aurors were afraid to go after him. They had heard that Outrider was promising the Cru… he was going to do horrible things to any Ministry officials that he caught. Vandermine was the only one to step up for the job."

"Then how did your parents go?'

"They had been off on a mission, but when they returned they volunteered to accompany him. They were bests pals, you know. They cared for him like he was a brother."

A single tear slid down Neville's cheek and his voice trailed off. He stared vacantly at the wall behind Harry's head and Harry lowered his eyes, examining the card in his hand. Vandermine was still smiling at him, but Harry noticed a touch of sadness in his eyes that he had not seen before. Suddenly Vandermine's smile looked plastic, like he was being forced to pose, not like he enjoyed it.

Neville shook his head and blinked hard. "Sorry about that. Got lost in a memory. Where was I?"

"Your parents treated Vandermine like a brother."

"Oh, right. Well, the Ministry gave them the mission, and they set out for Germany without delay. They scoured the countryside for a month, following leads and hunting down suspected murders, but they could not find him. He found them though. He set a trap for them, attacked them while they slept. Caught my mom and dad before they could mount an effective defense, but Vandermine fought his way out of the trap. Killed a lot of the were-creatures too. He followed them back to Outrider's hideout and attacked him there. He freed my parents before Outrider could get to them and they got away. Before they left though, Vandermine challenged Outrider to meet him in a duel. Outrider took the challenge."

"Vandermine challenged him to a duel?"

"Crazy, isn't it. They fought in a hidden forest near the French-German border. My parents put their memories of he fight into a Pensieve that my Gran showed me. If you ever want to see it, I could show it to you some summer, that is, if you want to come over."

"That'd be great."

"Really?" Neville's face flushed a little. "You'd really want to?"

"Sure."

"Cool. Oh, yeah, back to the story. Their duel lasted for a full day. They fought non-stop, not even pausing to eat or rest. Just as it got dark though, a crowd of vampires showed up. It turned out they were dueling on some ground that was sacred to the vampires or something like that. The vampires were all mad and they attacked them both. So, suddenly my mom and dad, who had been Vandermine's seconds, found themselves watching a three-way battle between two of the world's most powerful wizards and a flock of thirty vampires."

"Didn't they fight too?"

"They couldn't. Vandermine turned them invisible and froze them as soon as the vampires arrived. They could do nothing but watch as he took them all on. Him and Outrider killed the vampires, all of them. Somewhere in the fight though, a vampire got a piece of Vandermine. He was bleeding pretty bad by the time he and Outrider were back facing each other alone. Outrider pounced on him and bit him in the neck, right on top of the vampire wound. He nearly ripped his throat out, but my mom and dad broke free of their enchantment and stunned him. Vandermine finished him off before he collapsed from blood loss. My parents took him back to St. Mungos, where he recovered quickly. He made them promise to not tell anyone about the bites though. They never told a soul."

Harry frowned, thinking about what Neville had told him. "So, you know about his… condition?"

Neville shrugged. "Yeah, I know about it. Kind of creepy, the way that the two wounds counteracted each other."

"The wounds what?" Harry eyed him quizzically, hardly believing what Neville was telling him.

"He told me about it, the day that he gave me the necklace. Showed me what he can do now. Harry, it is amazing." He lowered his voice as if he was afraid of eavesdroppers. "He can change into a werewolf or bat at a whim ! Something in Outrider's bite changed the wounds. He can control his transformations, Harry. He's barely affected by the full moon and he doesn't need blood. I've never heard of anything like it. Outrider was so corrupted that his infection reacted like a catalyst with the vampire bite. He's gotten all the good stuff, like increased senses, resistance to some types of magic, you name it. Anything that makes a werewolf or vampire tougher, he's got it."

"Are you telling me that you knew about all that, but you never told me or Hermione or anyone?"

"Yeah, none of you ever brought it up." He frowned and looked at Harry oddly. "Why are you so interested?"

"I, well, um, it doesn't matter," Harry stammered, thinking of an excuse. "Just curious, I suppose."

"I hope you aren't believing any of the stuff that Hermione's found in the Daily Prophet. They love trashing him, because he's a 'weirdy.'"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I've got to go Harry." Neville looked at the clock on the wall and stood up. Offering Harry his hand, he bowed his head. "Thanks for the letting me talk with you."

"Anytime, Neville, anytime."

As Neville headed for the door Harry could not resist calling out one last question.

"Neville, do you trust him?"

Neville turned slowly. "Who, Vandermine? Of course I trust him. I'd trust him with my life, just like my parents did."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Harry muttered as the door shut, leaving Harry alone in the hospital room.