A/N: yay, new chapter! Stuff finally starts to happen now, I've got some good stuff planned in the next few chapters :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

It'S TaKiNG OvER

I'm GoINg tO HUrT ThEM

GOinG tO EsCAPe

Goodbye.

******

Two weeks had passed, yet the time had flown, as it was already the end of September. Hermione had made no further mention of Harry giving Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, although he had told Draco about the 'ludicrous' idea.

The werewolf hadn't really replied with a direct 'yes' or 'no.' He'd simply listened, before telling Harry to do what he wanted.

At least his detentions with Umbridge were over, though he doubted that the words etched into his hand would ever completely fade.

There had been four more Quidditch practices, and Ron and Harry at least hadn't been shouted at in the past two of them. Angelina still was holding a grudge against Harry for getting so many detentions.

The library was quiet in the evening, most of the students up in their common rooms. Draco was sitting silently near the window, a book in his hands as he read over a page on Asiatic Anti-Venoms. Of course, the werewolf already had all of the knowledge in this potions book packed into his head, yet it was better than suffering the awkwardness that came with Harry forcing him to hang out with the golden trio.

Harry had dragged him along to the library, for what he said was protection, as he didn't want to be alone with Hermione or Ron who might bring up the 'forbidden' subject of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classes.

Harry was working his way through his own pile of homework, when Hermione finally decided to break the crushing silence.

"So... Have you given the Defence Against the Dark Arts thing any more thought?" Hermione asked.

Harry's eyes flickered upwards from the book, watching her carefully. He had, but for the majority of the time he'd been thinking he'd deduced it was an insane idea. But then again, he always found himself picking particular spells that had helped him the most in fights with Death Eaters and Voldemort, almost like he was subconsciously planning lessons.

"Yes," Harry replied shortly.

"And?'

"I don't know."

"I thought it was a good idea," Ron piped up, his voice still slightly nervous, almost as if he expected Harry to start yelling at them like he'd done a few weeks ago.

"But all of it was luck."

"Not all of it Harry, there's no point pretending you're not good at Defence Against the Dark Arts, because you are," Hermione said softly.

"What do you think?" Ron's voice rung out.

"Draco?" Harry's voice caused the werewolf to look up after he'd finally managed to immerse himself in a muggle book he'd picked up. Something about an inhumanly intelligent detective?

Draco's eyes quickly flickered around, in an almost panic when he realised Ron had been talking to him. He'd never directly spoken to Ron before, and had been under the impression that the redhead still hated him, but simply put up with him for Harry's sake.

"I mean, it's a good idea," Draco replied, simply wanting to leave. He felt pretty uncomfortable.

"See!" Ron said. "Go on, Harry. You should do it."

"Just... I don't know, how many people exactly are we talking? I'm a nutter, remember?" Harry asked tiredly.

"Actually..." Hermione said. "You'd be surprised at how many people would be interested in this, or what you've got to say."

Draco quickly found himself unable to keep reading the book in his hands, abandoning the tale of Sherlock Holmes in favour of looking up and surveying the conversation silently.

"Look, the first weekend of October is a Hogsmeade weekend... How about I tell anyone who's interested to meet us there, and we can talk it over?" Hermione suggested, hope sparkling in her eyes.

"Why do we have to do it outside of school?" Ron asked.

"Because I don't think that Umbridge would be very happy if she found out about this."

******

It's dark. It's very, very dark. Do I even have my eyes open? I don't know. Wait, yes I do. I can blink. Blinking is strange. Blinking feels weird.

It's cold here too. There's a stone wall up against my back, which is uncomfortable, and metal cuffs bind me to the wall. I can't move, my muscles have seized up and it hurts. When did I last move? Days ago? Weeks ago? Months ago? Has it been years?

It can't have been years. Can't. But could it? I haven't seen the light in a while. There are no windows here, so for all I know it could be day, it could be night.

I am disoriented, I know that. I can't think straight, in fact, it's hard to think at all. My thoughts are just one big mess of randomness. I don't know real life from hallucinations, I can't be sure of anything anymore. I don't like it here.

I don't like the people that keep me here either. They're mean. They hurt me. I don't like that. They use that magic curse on me, and it hurts so badly I can't think. I forget things. Important things. My life, who am I? Who was I? I can't remember. Am I insane? I think I'm insane.

My name. I don't remember my name, but I know they gave me a new one. I had an old name. I didn't think I liked my old name, it meant something stupid. What was my new name? I didn't forget that, I'm sure. What is it... What is it... Hmm. It started with L.

L. L. L.

I wish they didn't give me a new name and make me forget my old one. Someone important to me called me by my old name. And another one at times. I have a lot of names, isn't that funny?

Someone important. Important. I still remember his face. He has a pretty face, he's very handsome. His eyes are pretty too. They're blue, like the sky, or the ocean. I can't remember his name though. Or how I know him. Or who he is, even. I just remember that he's very important to me. I hope he saves me.

Saves me. No one has come to save me so far. Will I even be saved? Will I stay here for the rest of my existence?

No. No, I won't, I refuse. I-I want to leave. I don't like it here, it's dark, it's cold, people hurt me. I don't like them. I hate them. I hate them all, I wish they'd all die.

I could get out. I could try. I have to try. And when I do, they'll all suffer. They've hurt me, and now it's time to return the favour.

I am powerful. I can feel it, it feels like fire and electricity are running through my veins. I'm leaving now. No one will stop me, not even an army could hold me back now. I'm leaving.

******

"This is ridiculous!" Harry hissed, clawing at his hair as he paced across the room, Draco watching silently. "I can't teach a class! I-I... What the hell do I do?!"

Draco sighed, not really having an answer to that question. He walked over to Harry, who'd now stopped pacing and was looking way too tired.

"You need sleep," Draco murmured, taking Harry's hand and pulling him in, kissing him passionately, Harry willingly deepening the kiss and opening his mouth, allowing Draco to explore freely.

The kiss quickly became heated and desperate, Harry tugging at Draco's hair as the werewolf pressed him up against the wall behind them, Draco's mind a whirlwind of random emotions he didn't understand but didn't care to.

Harry bit his lip, holding back a gasp as Draco leaned down to kiss his neck, tongue flicking over the two barely visible pinprick scars before he bit down, causing Harry to let out a quiet moan that Draco practically revelled in. Satisfied that he'd left a mark, Draco pulled away, breathing deeply as he got lost in Harry's crimson eyes, the vampire's pupils dilated.

"Better?"

"Definitely."

******

The Hogsmeade weekend rolled around faster than Harry had wanted it to. The weather was beginning to get colder as it got closer to December, the winter season having now truly kicked in.

The air was cold and bit at Draco's pale skin as he walked, his Slytherin scarf tied tightly around his neck and partially covering his mouth. It hadn't begun to snow yet, but it probably wouldn't be long until it did, another month at most.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. Harry had, of course, as per usual, dragged him along to the meeting they were having at the Hog's Head. (A place Hermione decided on of course, although Draco hated it there).

Harry was walking next to him, and Draco could practically feel the vampire's nerves radiating off of him. Ron and Hermione who were on his other side however, didn't seem to notice a thing.

Draco's train of thought was cut off as he caught sight of a familiar figure making their way past them towards Hogsmeade, seemingly not noticing them all. Harry lifted his head from staring piercingly at the ground, watching the figure with some form of interest and worry.

It was Newt, yet something was...wrong. Draco only just caught a glimpse of his face as he walked past, as, like Draco, his face was partially obscured by a scarf, although his was in Hufflepuff colours.

He was horrifically pale, all the colour seemingly haven drained from his face. His usually bright and attentive eyes were dull, red and glassy, tear stains littering his cheeks.

******

Earlier that morning...

******

Newt awoke with a groggy groan, the sound of someone furiously banging on his door shocking him out of his sleep.

He fell out of the armchair he realised he'd fallen asleep in (for the third time this week), and stumbled towards the door. It was extremely early in the morning, plus it was a weekend, so Newt had no idea who could be knocking so furiously on his door at this hour.

He pulled the door open, preparing to glare viciously at whoever had disturbed his sleep, glare quickly fading to a look of confusion as he saw Severus Snape standing outside, an unusual look of worry on his face.

"Can I come in?" The potions master asked, Newt raising an eyebrow but opening the door anyways.

"What is it?" Newt asked, somewhat perplexed.

"It's about Credence."

The effect that this simple sentence had on Newt was immediate. The colour drained from his face, his eyes glassed over, and he had to grip the back of the couch to make sure he didn't fall over because he seemed to suddenly go numb.

"H-He's not... Dead, is he?" Newt asked weakly, his voice cracking.

"No," Severus replied. "But he's escaped, and he's in a dangerous state."

"See?!" Newt yelled, angry. "This is what happens! You refused to keep me updated, and now look at what's happened!"

"I couldn't, because if you knew what was happening, you'd go after him!"

"Why is that a bad thing?!"

"Because it'd be suicide!"

"Again, why is that a bad thing?!"

"Because the order needs you!" Snape snapped.

Newt huffed, clearly distressed. "When did you find out?"

"Only last night, but I got back about half an hour ago. I was called to the Malfoy Manor. All the death eaters that'd been there at the time had been killed, but we don't even know how they were killed."

"What did their bodies look like?"

"Nonexistent, there was just lots of blood and bones."

"Tell me everything that you know. If he's escaped, and dangerous, then we definitely have a problem."

Severus nodded. "The dark lord had been planning to use him as a weapon, but only after he'd been turned into a completely different person. They tried to obliviate him, but it didn't work, so they resorted to the curciatus curse. They gave him a different name, and tortured him until he stopped responding to anything at all."

"No wonder he managed to escape," Newt muttered. "The more afraid, in pain, or should I say, the more negative emotions that the host experiences, the more an obscurus manifests, the more it takes hold. It probably got too strong and he couldn't restrain it anymore."

"From what we know, Credence isn't in control of his own body, the obscurus is. All the death eaters are hunting him down."

"The chances of finding him are unlikely," Newt replied. "Put it this way, no one knows what power an obscurus truly holds. They are supposed to kill their host when they're ten years old, but Credence is turning nineteen in a few months. He's managed to keep himself alive, so its safe to say that he's powerful, even for an obscurus. People are going to start disappearing."

"Well we can't monitor and look into every single disappearance, there'll be too many, it's impossible."

"Well what do you suggest we do?! I don't know much more about obscurials than you do, and you've kept me in the dark this whole time," Newt snapped, grabbing his coat and scarf. "I'm going out. Keep the school on borderline lockdown, although, if Credence decides to show up I'm pretty sure any defence we can knock up will be useless anyways."

******

The Hog's Head was definitely a place that Draco couldn't see himself ever entering again after this.

It was dark, muggy, and it smelt like stale alcohol and mould. Draco could see Harry wrinkling his nose in disgust as well, but the werewolf stayed behind, still purposely hiding part of his face in his scarf and leaning against a wall at the back of the room.

Even though he'd taken to hanging out with Harry a fair bit in public, he was still a Slytherin, and therefore, still the worst evil scum to ever walk this earth. He doubted he'd be particularly welcomed amongst the (apparently) five or six kids that Hermione had told, but as soon as people started piling in Draco felt himself sinking further and further into the dusty corner behind him.

It seemed that word amongst the students had travelled fast. The look of abject horror on Harry's face was increasing with every student that entered the room.

There were a lot of Ravenclaws, no doubt here because they were terrified that their education was going to be absolutely ruined by a woman who taught them nothing. There were a few Hufflepuffs Draco didn't recognise, and a lot of Gryffindors that Draco knew to be people Harry used to hang out with. He was the only Slytherin the room, and this fact made him want to curl up and die.

He got a few sideways glances as people entered the room, finding places to sit on tables and chairs, or simply standing at the back like Draco was, although no one dared to go near the glaring blond figure. He did however, catch the gaze of the Weasley twins once or twice, the identical redheads staring curiously at him.

Harry, was sitting down, looking vaguely like he was going to throw up. He caught Draco's gaze for a few seconds, Draco giving Harry the most encouraging and comforting smile he could before Hermione rose to speak.

"So, uh, hi. We all know why we're here," she began, Draco already fighting the urge to cringe and sink further into the corner. "We need a teacher. Well, a proper teacher, one who will actually teach us Defence Against the Dark Arts, not that rubbish Umbridge is teaching. And not just in theory, using the spells as well-"

A voice piped up from the crowd. "And you want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL too, right?"

"Of course I do," Hermione replied immediately, her voice more confident. "But we also need to be trained in defence because....because..." She paused to draw in a breath. "Because Lord Voldemort is back."

The reaction was immediate and very predictable. Draco himself, didn't move a muscle. He'd been in the Dark Lord's presence far too many times, and his true name didn't hold any effect on the werewolf. The same couldn't be said for others in the room.

Cho and her group of giggling girls all shrieked simultaneously and slopped butterbeer down themselves, Terry Boot twitched rather violently, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he somehow managed to morph into a cough. Most of the eyes weren't on Hermione anymore, now most of the people in the room watching Harry and waiting for his reaction.

"Well, that's the plan, anyways. If your going to join us, then we need to-" Hermione started.

"How do we know he's actually back?" And obnoxious voice from the crowd rang out.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it-"

"You mean Dumbledore believes him," the boy said, nodding rather aggressively at Harry, Draco watching with narrowed eyes. "I think we all have the right to know what exactly makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Well, I-" Hermione started, Harry standing up.

"It's ok," he nodded towards Hermione, who sat down somewhat shakily. "Look, if you're all here to know exactly what happened last year, and you want to know a detailed recount of what it's like to watch Voldemort kill someone, then I can't help you. I'm not here to talk about Cedric Diggory, so if that's what you want, you may as well clear out now." He gave Hermione a sharp glare, feeling angrily that this was her fault, that she had spread the word around and now people had turned up expecting some sort of freak-show.

"So," Hermione started again, her voice oddly high pitched. "If you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out where we'll meet, when, and how often-"

"Is it true," Luna interrupted with a small smile on her face. "That you can produce a corporeal Patronus?"

"Yes," Harry replied, somewhat defensively.

"Blimey, Harry. I didn't know you could do that!" Said Lee, looking impressed,

"And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" Terry Boot demanded.

"Yeah, I did," Harry replied, still cautious.

"And in our first year," Neville piped up. "He saved that philosophical stone-"

"Philosophers," Hermione corrected.

"Yes, that, from You-Know-Who."

And is it true, that last year, you survived an attack from a vampire and was turned into one? Is it true that for the past nearly two years you've been living as a monster, hidden underneath the facade of a concealing charm? Is it true that you saved me, a lowlife who'd made fun of you since you started school here?

"And not to mention all the tasks he had to do last year, with the dragons and the merpeople," Susan Bones said.

"Well most of those things I had help with-" Harry started.

"Not the dragon," said Luna. "You did that in your own."

"And fighting off the dementors this summer," Ron said.

"Ok, well some of those things I did alone, but-"

"Are you just trying to weasel out if showing us any of this stuff?" The same boy that had demanded the story from Harry at the start spoke again.

"Here's an idea," Draco snapped from the back of the room. "Shut your mouth."

"Well we've turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it."

"That's not what he said," Fred snarled.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" George asked angrily, pulling s rather long and lethal looking instrument from a Zonkos bag they were carrying.

"Or any part of your body really," Fred spat. "We don't really care where we stick this."

"Well... Then. We need to decide how often we should have these lessons, does once a week sound good?" Hermione cleared her throat.

"Yes," Angelia said. "But we just have to make sure it doesn't clash with any of the houses Quidditch practices."

"I'm sure we can find a day that suits everyone," Hermione said. "And now where."

"The library?"

Harry frowned. He didn't exactly see Madam Pince liking the idea of a bunch of students practicing Jinxes and defence spells in her library.

"An unused classroom?"

"Maybe," Hermione sighed. "We'll find somewhere. But I also think that we all agree that we shouldn't tell anyone, especially Umbridge, about what we're doing. So I think everybody should write their name down," she pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and began handing it around. "As a sort of agreement, to say that we won't tell anyone."

Fred finished signing his name with a grin, and handed the quill and parchment to Draco, who quickly scrawled his name down in cursive before giving it to Luna, who was sitting in front of him.

******

"I think that went well," Hermione said brightly, Harry wincing at the sun shining directly into his eyes as they left the dark pub.

"Better than I expected," Harry mumbled under his breath.

"Very optimistic today, aren't we?" Draco asked slyly, Harry grinning and shoving him playfully, Draco's stormy eyes sparkling.