A/N: I don't own Harry Potter

Warning: this chapter has mentions of torture

Nightfall came sooner than either of them had anticipated. They scrambled to find shelter, finally settling for a small alcove in the cliff. Hermione had managed to collect a handful of sticks and started a small fire. She wished they could have found something to eat, but for now, at least they wouldn't be something else's dinner.

"I've been thinking, Hermione. How will know Dumbledore when we see him? Does your stupid Sir Severus give us a description?" Harry asked.

"He's not stupid, and he's not mine," Hermione argued. She still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something wasn't quite right. Her mind was still trying to piece things together; Harry suddenly appearing, her seeing the phoenix and finding the book, the fact there seemed to be a phoenix either following them or flying ahead of them. Could it really be the one that had belonged to Sir Severus?

Hermione tried to remember everything she knew about phoenixes. It wasn't much other than the tales the children often told. It was a red bird that burned and rose again from its ashes. They could live forever.

"Fine, does the book say what Dumbledore looks like? Or Lord Voldemort for that matter?"

"It does not," she answered. "I have a feeling we'll know Lord Voldemort when we see him, since he is the public face of the the traitor. He'll be on the throne, or close to it," she answered.

"Good, we find him, destroy him, and then avenge my parents and I will take the throne."

"What will you once you're king?' she asked, looking over at Harry. "I mean, you must have been getting some ideas since you found out?"

"I'm going to invite Ginny to the palace. Find the rest of Dumbledore's supporters, throw them in the dungeon. Do you think the palace has a dungeon?"

"I'm sure it does," Hermione agreed. So far, nothing Harry had suggested he would be a bad ruler.

"Good, one with spiders and rats to gnaw on their toes," Harry muttered. Hermione grimaced, but Harry couldn't see the face she made in the flickering light.

"Then what? I mean, people have been afraid for over a decade."

"Fear is a good motivator, Hermione. If you're afraid of the consequences, you'll think twice before crossing someone. Fear is power, Hermione."

Hermione shuddered, scooting a little closer to the cliff wall.

"Did I ever tell you what my uncle did?" Harry asked.

"No," she whispered.

"He made me sleep in a small shed, I couldn't even stand up. There were rats and spiders. I could feel them crawling on me. I woke up with bites up and down my arms. He didn't feed me, at least not the food his family ate. I was made to eat with the pigs. Oh, did I tell you they kept pigs?" Harry asked, his eyes nearly glowing the firelight. Hermione shivered.

"You had not mentioned that yet," she answered.

"There was one that was bigger and fatter than the others. His name was Dudley. He was the meanest of the pigs. If I came close to him, he'd charge me. Once he knocked me down, stamped on my arm. It never fully healed," Harry muttered.

"What happened to him? You said his name was Dudley."

"Oh, that was one of my most brilliant moments, Hermione. Uncle was out hunting for food I wouldn't be allowed to eat. I left the pig pen open, laid out some lovely carrots I'd stolen from Auntie's garden, and the rest, well, Uncle and Auntie ate their precious hog that night for dinner," Harry laughed, completely oblivious to the horror in Hermione's eyes.