Fifteen-year old Harry Potter sat alone in the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privat Drive. He had been sitting the same spot, unmoving, unspeaking, for the two says since he had parted from his friends at King's Cross Station. Harry had been contemplating the events of the last month, especially the death of his godfather.

Sirius' death had been his fault, but there were others who bore more fault then he. Harry wasn't stewing, wallowing in his guilt. He was re-examining his life as a wizard, concentrating on the way others had made choices that affected him, especially Fudge. The fool of a Minister had cost him a lot in the last year, and Harry was not happy about it.

The final straw came when he received a letter from Ron and Hermione, they were both at Headquarters, telling him that not only could they not send him many letters, or tell him anything important, but that Dumbledore had decided he was to remain at the Dursley's for the rest of the summer. Doubtless the Headmaster thought he was safer there, but Harry had his own ideas. All he had to do was work up the nerve, and given who he was going to approach, this was easier said then done.

The clock downstairs chimed midnight, and Harry made his decision. He packed everything he cared about into his school trunk, keeping his wand up his sleeve, and his Invisibility Cloak stuffed into one pocket. Harry crept silently through the house, no easy feat when carrying a heavy trunk and an owl cage. Once he got to the bottom of the stairs, twenty minutes later, Harry decided that, given what he was about to do, the Ministry could go to hell. He shrunk Hedwig's cage, he had send her to Hermione for the summer, and then his drunk, putting both in his pocket.

Once he was out in the street, he help up his wand, summoning the famous Knight Bus. Stan Shunpike gave the expected greeting, though seemed a pit put off when Harry barked at him to, "Shut the bloody hell up."

"Where to Mr. Potter?" asked Stan after Harry had boarded and taken a bed.

"Spinners End please."

"That'll be 12 Sickles, 3 Knuts."

Harry paid the man, and sat back, trying to nap. He was going to need to be well rested for the morning.

Ginny Weasley was sitting alone in her room at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, as she had taken to doing, thinking about Harry. He had seemed so distant at the end of last year, not that he had ever paid her much mind anyway. There had been no emotion in his eyes, which had always been so vibrant and full of life. It had scared Ginny; she was worried that he had been too deeply wounded this time to recover. She knew he would never turn dark, or anything like that, but she didn't want to watch him slip into depression, closing himself off, and give up. That would almost be worse then Harry going dark.

Ron and Hermione were worried as well, she knew, and Hermione had sent him a letter explained their situations. Hedwig had returned with no response, just a short note asking Hermione to take care of the Snowy Owl for the rest of the summer. Ron was furious with Dumbledore; he had even gone so far as to shout at the professor, but to no avail. Neither Ron's anger, nor Hermione's logic, could dissuade the Headmaster, and Harry was to remain with his Aunt and Uncle. Those people didn't deserve their titles, in Ginny's mind only two people did. But Remus hadn't exactly figured out that Tonks liked him yet, being thick about girls seemed to be a trend in the men she knew.

Harry knocked on the door or the old, ratty looking building. He was wondering why on earth the man lived here, when he was connected to so many rich families, and made a decent living teaching.

"Yes?" answered the familiar sneering voice.

"Potter?! What on Earth?" the surprise was clearly evident on Snape's face. Whoever he had been expecting to be calling on him at one in the morning, clearly Harry Potter was on the bottom of the list.

"I want you to teach me, Professor." stated Harry calmly, knowing better then to let emotion rule his actions, especially in this man's presence.

"Teach you what?" asked Snape, still too shocked to do much else.

"Everything you can. Your right, I am weak, I let my emotions rule me, and my pride blind me. Teach me to be above that, teach me to let go of my feelings and do what I must."

Once again the shock on the Potions Master's face was huge; he had clearly never thought he would hear these words. Snape didn't answer at first, just waved Harry into the house, pouring himself a drink.

"Are you serious Potter?" Snape asked in a daze.

"I know it must seem outrageous, but I am, I'm not going to make anymore foolish mistakes, not if I can help it. You're the only one I know who can help me with this, I know you don't like me, but think of it like this. It's the opportunity to corrupt James's son."

Snape's face curled into a snarl at the mention of Harry's father, but then calmed, as Snape began to think.

"It won't be easy Potter, it's going to hurt, I will enjoy watching you suffer through, but at the end, you will be a stronger person than you can imagine. I'm going to teach you how to let go, to hate unconditionally, to mast the Unforgivables, to kill. And I expect to you to work harder then you ever have before, and learn, and be grateful for it. I was the one who overheard the Prophecy, I know your task, and I can make you equally to it."

Harry thought on his professor's words for a long while, during which Snape had several more drinks, still trying to figure out if he was dreaming. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Harry held out his hand. Snape shook it, a look of distaste on his face, then gripped harder and pulled Harry out of the chair and across the room, to slam into a wall, face first.

"Lesson one Potter: Trust no one."

The summer passed in a blur for the inhabitants of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. They couldn't wait to return to Hogwarts, and to see Harry again. Harry Potter had been a subject of worry in the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for some time. It seemed that he had disappeared just after the summer began, but no one would confirm it, at least not to the children, but they had overheard enough with the extendable ears to guess, and their mother's constant worry confirmed it.

When the morning of September First dawned, it was to a strange sight for Molly Weasley, all of her children, plus Hermione were awake on time, their trunks packed the night before, and ready to go. It was the first time in Weasley history that this had happened. She put it down to them wanting to get to King's Cross as soon as possible and meet Harry. She had to admit that she too was anxious to see the boy, no had heard from all summer, and, though she hadn't told the children, no one had been able to find Harry either. His Aunt and Uncle said that they just woke up one morning and he was gone. Harry had taken his things with him, wherever he was, leading them to believe that he had not been forced against his will, but no one could find him. The obvious places that Harry would go to, The Burrow, Headquarters, The Leaky Cauldron, The Hog's Head, and even the Shrieking Shack had been checked, and re-checked. One thing was for sure, when the boy finally did resurface, he was going to get several ear-full's from Molly Weasley.

They walked to King's Cross once again; it was a bright summer day after all. the closer they came to the train station, the more excited and anxious everyone grew, not to go to Hogwarts, but to find out where Harry Potter had been. The station was crowded as usual, as was Platform 9 ¾, witches and wizards from across the country came to see their children off to school, but there was only one wizard the Weasley's and Hermione were interested in, and he was currently saying goodbye to the last person any of them had ever expected.

Ron's jaw hit the ground first, quickly followed by Hermione's. Fred and George, who had come along "for old time's sake" were the next to notice, and both let out swear words that caused their mother to admonish them, before she to let out a few choice words. Ginny was the last one to notice, but she reacted the least, only staring on in incredulous shock.

Harry turned and saw them, a smile instantly lighting up his very different features. He was taller, as well as broader, his hair was longer, hanging to his shoulders, and it looked as though it hadn't been cut all summer. He was moving with an easy grace, but his eyes took in everything around him, flicking from one face to the next, checking wand hands, taking in his surroundings completely. The really startling sight was his eyes, once bright green and vibrant, they were still green, but seemed to flicker with some unseen light. They pulsated with emotion, clearly visible, and very menacing, almost like twin hole of green fire.

"Hello everyone." Harry's voice was the same, but the manor of his speech had changed, it was articulated and precise.

Everyone just stared at him dumbly, their gazes bouncing between his new features, especially his eyes, and Severus Snape, whom he had just bade farewell. Ginny was the first to recover, which was fortunate, because she had many questions, but the sense to hold of on them. She instead threw herself at Harry, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug that would do her mother proud.

Harry appeared uncomfortable for a moment, than wrapped his arms around the girl, returning the hug. It was odd, he had looked almost like he didn't know what to do, and had had to try to remember. Hermione was the next one to awake, closing her mouth, and joining Ginny in hugging Harry, though they wouldn't have admitted it, both girls were glad to see him alive.

Ron was the next to recover, along with Fred and George, who immediately began questioning Harry about his choice of company. Harry had been expecting this, and replied in the same, cool calculated tone as he had greeted them.

"Don't worry; I've been fine all summer, just advancing my studies."

"But with Snape?" asked Ron, the shock clear in his voice.

"Yes, Professor Snape proved to be an excellent teacher, until I surpassed him.

"First of all," began Hermione "since when do you call him 'Professor'? Second of all, what do you mean 'surpassed'?"

"Well I believe that 'Professor' is still his title and 'surpassed' means just what it is supposed to. I have surpassed Professor Snape in the subjects he was teaching me."

"And what exactly was he teaching you Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley, who had finally recovered.

"Occlumeny, Legilimency, dueling, disassociation, and the Dark Arts." answered Harry, watching the stunned looks on everyone's face.

"The, the Dark Arts Harry?" asked Ginny, speaking for the first time.

"There really is no such thing as good or evil spells, it is people who are good or evil, and it is the way they use spells that count; and we're going to miss the train if we don't get on now."

This shook everyone back to reality, as they took their luggage and dragged it onto the train, before saying their goodbyes. Harry knew he wasn't off the hook yet, as he caught the glances from his friends as he re-enlarged his trunk, and Hedwig's cage.

"Go ahead, ask away, better now than later." said Harry, knowing it was inevitable anyway.

For the next two hours, Harry answered his friend's questions, explaining the things he had learned, and demonstrating some of the lighter things. He was sorely tempted to try using Legilimency on his friends, he'd only been able to practice on Professor Snape, and the man was such a good Occlumens that it was hardly interesting. He briefly probed each of their minds, finding a swirling mix of confusion and relief. It was Ginny's mind that interested him, however. In her head was a colorful whirlpool of thoughts, the most notable of which all had to do with him, it was easily apparent that she still harbored feelings for him, and that they were much more then a simple crush.

Harry was ripped from his ponderings of Ginny's mind by a familiar drawling voice, that of Draco Malfoy.

"Well, I guess the rumors weren't true then. Everyone's been saying you were dead Potty, I was really excited for a while there, but I guess we'll just have to keep trying, maybe on of them first.

Malfoy's eyes were moving over Hermione and Ginny, and held a look that Harry recognized, making his blood boil. He stood, drawing his wand so fast it was a short blur, and spoke.

"Draco, you have ten seconds to leave before I introduce you to pain beyond anything this you can imagine."

Malfoy just sneered, making no indication that he was going to move.

"1, 2, 10! Don't say I didn't warn you Malfoy, Dementius!"

The curse hit Malfoy before he even registered that it was coming at him, and he dropped to the floor, writhing in agony, silent screams fighting to escape his throat. Harry held the curse on him, watching as Draco started to spasm, until he felt a warm hand on his wand arm. It was Ginny, and she looked every bit as scared as she had in the Chamber of Secrets, her eyes silently pleading with him. One look was all it took; Harry lifted the curse, allowing Malfoy to be dragged off by Crabe and Goyle. He returned his wand to where ever he kept it, and sat down calmly, as if nothing had happened.

"What was that curse?" asked Ron, confusion showing on his face.

"It's the Dementor Curse, it replicates the effects of Dementors, makes the victim relive their worst memories over and over, and it's highly illegal, Dark Magic." Hermione answered accusingly.

"He deserves it more then you can imagine." replied Harry, not failing to notice that Ginny was still holding onto his hand.