Harry Potter and the Memories of a Sociopath, Ch 3, Zimbardo's Methodology was Flawed, Pt 2

Here's how it is:

Shortly after the story in HPMOR, Hermione decides it is up to her to destroy Azkaban's dementors, even knowing the risks involved. A phoenix arrives to assist her, but after teleporting away with Hermione, immediately returns to Hogwarts.

Harry remains deeply concerned about the fate of the world, despite Moody having made progress toward a functional Philosopher's Stone based hospital, and Bones apparently grudgingly willing to take his cues on national policy. It is revealed that this policy does not include prison reform, despite some interest in the Wizengamot for switching to a non-dementor prison.

Draco Malfoy couldn't believe how stupid he'd been.

Draco was sitting in the third safe, as had become his habit. He had several books and parchments on the desk, and was trying to skim through them, but kept getting distracted.

Draco was angry. He was angry at Dumbledore, who had memory charmed and hidden his mother for years. He was angry at Dumbledore's followers, who had all played along. He was angry at Voldemort, who had killed his father and his friends' fathers. He was angry at his father, who had been stupid and careless enough to get killed. He was angry at Snape, who had quit his job and disappeared at exactly the time he was needed most by many of the Slytherins he was supposed to have been mentoring. He was angry at his mother, who had no idea how to be a parent. He was angry at everyone in the government, who wouldn't recognize good policy if it bit them in the face (and mostly because, without father's protection, their laws kept him from practicing magic all summer).

But he was most angry at Harry, who he had tried to befriend and who had betrayed him. Harry, who had lied to him about muggle science rituals, who had manipulated him into making friends with mud-bloods. Harry, who had promised to help him achieve political power, and then basically ignored him after his father died and Hermione returned.

He thought for another moment. Voldemort, Dumbledore, father, and almost all of father's allies had died or disappeared while Hermione had mysteriously un-died and Snape had quit from Hogwarts all at nearly the same time. There was only one person who benefited from any plot resulting in that outcome: one Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres. Or possibly Amelia Bones, who had apparently inherited Dumbledore's Wizengamot position (minus the opposition faction) despite lacking all traditional qualifications for the post. Dumbledore had been a great and powerful wizard, despite being irredeemably evil; he had learned secret magics and defeated powerful enemies. Bones had spent most of her life working for the DMLE and had now been given Magical Britain's highest office.

It occurred to Draco that a Potter plan would likely have resulted with Harry himself holding the Line of Merlin. Although, Harry had certainly learned secret magic and if he'd helped defeat Voldemort, he would already be better qualified for the job than Bones. Draco shook his head. Even if the plan hadn't gone perfectly, it was still clear who was likely responsible: the first (and only) person to report the incident. With no one left to contradict Potter's version, it was a perfect plan.

Harry was becoming just as dangerous as Dumbledore; seeking out dangerous magic, meddling with politics, and likely responsible for killing one of Draco's parents. No one else in Magical Britain would ever even suspect the Boy-Who-Lived; foiling Potter's evil plans would all be up to Draco.

And then the obvious struck Draco with sufficient force that he questioned whether something had been messing with his mind. His father had clearly known but had never stated it directly. Since January! Only three or four people had ever scared his father, and an eleven-year-old should not have added to that number. After Draco had woken up at St. Mungo's, the nature of his father's questions should have been a giant sign with flashing lights and noisemaking charms. His father had concluded that Voldemort had somehow transfered himself into Harry Potter. And after seeing it, there was nowhere Draco couldn't see it: it made perfect sense that the reborn dark lord could do things everyone thought were impossible, that he would use insane battle tactics, that he would manipulate those who were allegedly his friends and allies, that he would turn his office into a cartoonishly evil lair. Of course he was an occlumens; he'd been one for decades. Of course he'd hide his alleged patronus; some reflected light was doubtlessly easier to fake than the image of an animal. Of course he'd risk Draco's life or sacrifice Hermione's in order to move his plans along. But there was no direct evidence, and Draco couldn't even think of a testable prediction. What could possibly falsify such an incontrovertible truth?

Eventually another dark lord would appear and challenge Volde-potter. Volde-harry? For every dark lord, another naturally arises to fight them. Grindelwald defeated a series of dark lords who ruled various parts of Europe, then Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, and Voldemort was supposed to have defeated Dumbledore. And of course he had; though it had been Harry-mort this year rather than Voldemort-classic a decade earlier.

Anyway, once a new dark lord made his stand against Potter, Draco would have to ensure he would get the number 2 position, not have it stolen from him (again). More importantly, he would have to ensure success. And to do that he would need to bring more to the table than just his family name or diminished family fortune. Draco had gotten a good start working against Harry in the armies; he'd know the enemy better than any other allies a dark lord could gather and was a good strategist in his own right. But even that might not be enough and Draco was unwilling to leave things to chance. Father had amassed a rather large collection of powerful dark (and likely illegal) objects. Unfortunately there was no instruction manual, but there had to be options here for maximizing Draco's utility as a trusted lieutenant and maximizing the chances of victory. He decided to memorize the characteristics of as many of them as possible so he could try to research them later (he wasn't stupid enough to write something like that down).

Then he decided that maybe he was being too paranoid. Surely he could take a few smaller objects (especially some of the texts) with him and keep them in his trunk. When would anyone ever search him? Besides, there were some spells and potions here he was dying to try out...

The phoenix responded a series of chirps and gestures.

"Well, then teleport as close as you can, and fly the rest of the way", Harry commanded.

The phoenix flashed away again.

Harry reached for his time-turner, then let his hand drop. He needed to wait here.

As he expected/feared, the phoenix returned three minutes later, dripping water and emitting an angry shriek.

"What do you mean you can't fly when there's a ward against magical flight? You're a bird; are your wings just there for show?" The phoenix just looked at the ground. "Okay, follow me. I have another idea." Harry climbed down the ladder to his office, pulled a pair of books off one of his office bookshelves, and opened them on his desk.

Hermione felt betrayed; the phoenix had insisted she depart immediately, before she'd had time to plan anything and then abandoned her. She hadn't really had much time to think about whether she'd wanted to accept this mission. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't quite remember what the mission was. After a few seconds, it occurred to her that she felt miserable here and wanted to leave.

Somehow, it was getting colder and darker and sadder in the corridor. Dementors, she realized, and they're getting closer. Then she heard footsteps. After another pause, she realized dementors don't step, so there must also be aurors coming. She needed to get out of there; either the aurors would lock her in here permanently or the dementors would do even worse. She tried to run but fell over backwards. She got up and tried again, stumbling. It was as if something was pushing her back, letting her feet outrun the rest of her body.

There was something she vaguely remembered, something Harry gave her, something that would let her hide. She had felt as guilty about accepting it as happy about getting it, so she was still partially able to think about it. But what?

She pulled open her pouch and whispered, "what was it Harry gave me, what did I put in this the day I got out of St. Mungo's?"

The pouch dutifully responded by ejecting the cloak of invisibility at her hands. She caught it and pulled it on more or less automatically.

She sighed in relief as the fear and confusion faded away then sat down against the wall. She was here to cast a patronus strong enough to destroy the dementors even if she died in the process. She wondered if Harry knew about the anti-dementor feature of the cloak. Of course he did; that was probably why he gave it to her. And the whole hiding-from-death thing made it obvious in retrospect. But even without the effect of the dementors, her situation was still pretty bad: she was alone in the world's highest security secret prison, unlikely to survive, and with no way out if she did (it then occurred to her that a phoenix could have helped with all of those things). She questioned whether accepting this mission, after having decided not to be a heroine, had been a mistake.

Well, maybe if not for the fact that if Harry and a phoenix agreed on something, it was probably the right thing to do. She got up with renewed determination and began walking down the spiral to the lowest levels of the prison.

And then there was noise.