A/N: wow. This story only has about 2-3 more chapters left... AND THEN THE NEXT BOOK YAY (overworking myself XD) but enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Newt's POV

The streets of New York in 1926 were cold and rainy that day, little droplets of water falling onto my blue coat from a murky, dark sky. The rain showed no signs of letting up anytime soon, but at least there was no wind to blow the rain around harshly. Instead it fell peacefully.

People walked the roads and streets with umbrellas over their heads, the cab horses trotting past, shaking out their water filled manes as they went. It filled me with an odd sense of nostalgia and sadness seeing these streets again, the streets that, in a few months, would be in complete disrepair.

He was walking ahead of me, shivering slightly from the cold rain. His arms were folded across his chest to hide his probably nearing numb hands from the bad weather.

I didn't really know what I was doing here. I just needed to see him again, if only just to see his face, hear his voice, anything. And it wasn't like I was needed particularly anywhere else, and if I was, turning back time wasn't that much of a problem to me.

The time of when I'd apparated away was written on my hand in pen, and I had to put my hand in my pocket to prevent it from being smudged. Ideally, I'd just apparate back, no harm done. As long as no one pointed me out, recognised me, or noticed me in general here, it was fine.

So I followed. I followed from a distance so that he wouldn't notice me, or that I wouldn't appear like I was following him to anyone else on the streets. I tried to look casual, looking into shop windows every now and then, but it was near impossible to tear my eyes away from him. If I looked away, would he disappear again?

He reached where he seemed to be going, a bakery on the side of the street. I busied myself looking in the window while he was in there, trying to appear interested in the couch that the store was selling. Even though I was a fairly good actor, I knew that my thoughts and probably my expression betrayed me greatly.

Finally he walked out, a look of despair on his face. Had the bakers turned him down? His face was so pale he looked like a ghost, his face slightly sunken in and gaunt from malnourishment. His lips were a purplish blue from the cold, his hair drenched and dripping water onto his shoulders.

Yet the look of despair on his face was also one of resignation. He knew that this meant; he knew what returning home with nothing came to.

It was then that something seemed to catch his eye. I followed his gaze, my eyes landing on an old and worn out piano sitting outside the bakery. Often places had public pianos outside their shops, usually for musicians to generate business.

I watched as he cautiously stepped towards the instrument, looking around to see if any of the people passing by were going to stop him. When none did, he sat down and pulled the lid open.

He began to play, a mournful tune that I'd heard him humming under his breath more than once. His fingers danced along the keys, water from his hair and face dripping onto them.

Slowly, a crowd did begin to form. He paid them little attention, and I doubted he even knew that they were watching him play. I caught sight of a familiar figure in the crowd, realising it was Mr Graves. Although hatred filled me at the sight of him, I stepped back a bit to shield myself from his view.

He winced every now and then as he played, his pale hands covered in red cuts and bruises. No one else seemed to pick up on the pain he was intent on hiding inside but me. I knew how to read his face, his eyes. I knew when his words betrayed his feelings; I knew who he was. No one else here did, they all saw him as another face on the street.

People tossed coins to the foot of the piano, which he hardly acknowledged. The crowd dissipated as he finished playing, a forlorn and hopeless look on his face.

It was then that he noticed the shimmering pile of coins, which he simply stared at incredulously for a moment before picking them up hesitantly. He was probably wondering if anyone had dropped them by accident.

He walked back into the bakery, this time returning with what I assumed was a loaf of bread, shielded from the rain by his jacket which he'd taken off.

I hid behind a small alcove as Graves walked towards him, having hung back after the crowd.

Graves was a man I'd observed a fair lot in the time I'd seen him. Of course, he wasn't really Percival Graves, but despite what the man may seem to think of himself, he isn't that difficult to understand. I could clearly see the calculating, cold look in his eyes.

He offered the umbrella he was holding to the teen, who shied away from him at first.

"It's alright," Graves' voice was calm. "I'll walk you home if you want. Can't have you getting ill because of this drab weather."

I could see Credence clearly processing what had just been said to him, a look of shock still on his face. If anything, this broke my heart even more. Had no one offered him any form of kindness in his entire life?

It took him a few seconds to compose himself before he stepped closer, under the umbrella.

"Thank you," was his quiet reply, his voice so timid and yet wary, wondering if this man was just another person who was plotting against him.

******

"So you're serious about this, Harry?" Ron hissed as they walked to Umbridge's office. "We're actually breaking into her office?!"

"It's the only way," Harry replied. Finally they reached her office door.

"Alohomora!" Hermione tried. The door didn't budge. "Reculdiam!" She tried hopefully, silently praying that a stronger unlocking spell would work. Again, the door didn't unlock.

Harry looked to Draco for help, who sighed and took out his wand, muttering something under his breath. The lock on the door exploded, the door creaking open.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Hermione whispered to herself as they entered the room, Ron hastily closing the door behind them.

"We can't be in here for long," Draco murmured. "I have a feeling that those cat plates aren't just decorations."

It was true that half the cats weren't on the plates anymore, having walked through the doors behind them. The ones that remained were yowling incessantly.

"Shut up!" Ron snapped, taking out his wand and deciding it would be a good time to practice his silencing charm before the exam.

Sure enough, the fire was crackling away. "Does anyone know how to do the spell?" Harry asked.

"There's floo powder here," Ron pointed out, picking up the small bowl of green dust. "We could use this instead."

"Who'll go through?" Hermione asked.

"No one will be going anywhere," a sharp, furious voice cut through the air. Draco winced, turning to see a bedraggled looking Professor Umbridge standing in the doorway. Her face was red with rage, her teeth bared into an angry snarl.

Ron cursed quietly, and Hermione looked like she was about to burst into tears at the prospect of possibly getting expelled.

Harry's glare was more menacing than Umbridge's by many, many times, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Professor!" Ron tried, hopefully. "We were just looking for you!"

"Enough, Weasley!" Umbridge growled. "I know why you're all here. Who are you trying to communicate with?!"

"No one," Hermione mumbled, looking petrified.

"Liar!" Umbridge hissed. "Who was it? Dumbledore? Mr Redmayne?"

"It's none of your business," Harry spat.

She sighed, although still looked extremely happy with herself. "Expecto Patronum!" A cat soared from the end of her wand, it quickly dissipating. "I have given you a chance to explain yourselves; but since you have refused, I have sent for Professor Snape. A little Veratisium should get some answers."

"But you're not allowed to use that stuff on students!" Ron interjected. "It's not allowed!"

"You forget yourself, I am the headmistress now."

Snape walked in, looking rather disgruntled and upset to be there. After eying the pink office in distaste, his black eyes locked with Draco's grey ones.

What have you gotten yourself into now?

Harry had another vision, apparently Sirius Black is being held captive in the department of mysteries. We had to find out if it was true, but got caught trying to use her fireplace to talk to Remus.

Snape gave him a look of understanding and contempt as he broke the magical link between their minds, turning to the pink professor.

"What?" He said simply, looking like he would much rather be anywhere else.

"I need some veratisium. These students were caught trying to use the fireplace to talk to someone, and I want to know who."

"I only have one phial left," Snape replied, taking the small bottle out of his pocket.

"Any volunteers?" Umbridge asked cruelly, gazing around at the six students.

"I'll take it," Draco stepped forward, taking the bottle from his godfather's hand, eyeing it with a form of wariness.

"Draco, no-" Harry began, eyes wide with fright.

"It's fine, I'll take it," Draco repeated firmly, pulling the cork out of the top of the phial. He drew in a deep breath before downing it in one gulp.

"Right," Umbridge looked positively thrilled. "Who were you trying to contact?"

Draco stood without saying a word, his jaw squared.

"Mr Malfoy? Who were you trying to contact?!" She asked, now looking slightly desperate. Harry was grinning, almost unbelieving that Draco was able to resist the effects of the potion.

"Mr Malfoy is a skilled legilimens," Snape spoke, a hint of pride in his voice. "He is able to resist most mind control, including the effects of veratisium."

Umbridge growled in anger. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"You didn't ask," Snape said nonchalantly. "But that's the last of the veratisium."

Draco looked rather pleased with himself, folding his arms over his chest. She couldn't get the truth out of them that way anymore.

"You can leave," Umbridge snapped at Snape, who replied with a raised eyebrow.

Stay strong Draco, I'll contact Lupin as fast as I can. Try to keep Harry at Hogwarts. This could go too hell very quickly.

I'll try my best. Thank you, Severus.

"Now, there are two ways we can go about this," Umbridge said, her tone now dangerously low. "You can either take the easier way out of this, and tell me, or I will have to resort to more drastic measures." At these words, she turned the animated picture of Fudge on her desk to face away.

Hermione looked like she was about to cry. "What d-drastic measures?"

"I think a bit of the cruciatis curse will get a few of you talking."

"That's illegal!" Ron said, his voice uncharacteristically high.

Umbridge lifted her wand, pointing it directly at Harry. In not even a second, Draco was standing in front of him and shielding him from view, his own wand raised and teeth bared in anger.

"You may be able to force veratisium down my throat," Draco snarled. "But you even dare to touch him, and I will not hesitate to make your life a living hell."

"Is that a threat, Mr Malfoy?" She asked, a satisfactory hint of fear in her voice.

"No," Draco spat. "It's a promise."

She narrowed her eyes even further, if possible. "Crucio!"

Pain immediately ripped through the werewolf, but he gritted his teeth and held his breath. He wasn't going to fall, he couldn't, he had to protect Harry. The pain was mind numbing, his vision quickly becoming blurry.

Harry let out a growl of anger, raising his own wand and opening his mouth to yell out a painful hex he was desperately wanting to cast.

"Stop it!" Hermione finally broke down into sobs. "I'll s-show you, j-just stop it!"

She lowered her wand, and Draco released a shaky breath, his legs trembling and feeling weak. Harry caught him around the waist before he fell, murmuring words of comfort quietly. Draco buried his face in Harry's shoulder, trying to compose himself as quickly as he could.

"Hermione, no!" Ron hissed.

"It's the only way," she sobbed.

"Show me what?" Umbridge said, looking afraid and interested at the same time.

"Dumbledore's secret weapon."

Harry looked over at her with a frown, but she refused to meet his gaze.

"Take me to it, then!"

Hermione left the room, Ron and Umbridge following her, Draco and Harry staying behind the others.

"We need a plan to ditch them and get to the ministry," Harry whispered, glaring at the backs of the other people in front of them.

"Well you can fly anyways, but how do I get there?"

"My broom," Harry hissed. "It's still in Umbridge's office. "I'll run back to get it and I'll shrink it."

And much to Draco's shock, the vampire dissipated into a black cloud of smoke. There were a few seconds where Draco walked on his own, hoping desperately that no one in front happened to turn around. Thankfully, Harry was back within thirty seconds.

"Got it?"

Harry nodded.

******

"Where are we going?" Umbridge asked loudly, tripping over a large tree root. The forbidden forest was nearly pitch black, the light of seven wands lighting the dark forest path.

"We'll be there soon," Hermione replied haughtily, carrying on walking. Finally, they reached a clearing. One that Harry recognised.

A rope was tied around a huge tree trunk, the end of it snapped. "Where is it?" Umbridge said, looking around.

"It was right here," Hermione whispered in reply, Harry quickly understanding that she meant to use Grawp as a coverup. The giant was gone.

"No," Umbridge said. "I get it now! You tricked me! You all tricked me out here!"

"No, we didn't!" Hermione said desperately. "It's just- he's just gone!"

Draco lifted his head and scanned the forest as a sound filled his ears. He knew Harry could hear it too, and out of the darkness of the trees Draco could just make out the silhouette of a human, but with the body of a horse. An arrow whizzed past, thunking into the tree next to Umbridge. The professor let out a cry of fear, watching as six or seven centaurs galloped into the clearing.

Each one of them was wearing the same, bitter, primal and angry expression. They clearly knew who Umbridge was, after all the bans and discrimination she'd put upon their kind.

"Stop right there!" Umbridge said, her voice trembling. "Don't come any closer!"

A centaur with the body of a white horse stepped forward, stamping his front hoof on the ground angrily and clearly making the crossbow he was holding visible.

"I said, don't come any closer, you brute!" She screeched, waving her wand. A rope materialised into the air, wrapping itself around the centaur's neck and beginning to choke him.

The half man, half horse fell to the floor with an angry screech, thrashing his legs around wildly and pulling desperately at the rope cutting off his airways.

A black furred centaur, now clearly furious at the attack on one of his kind, reared up, pawing at the air with his front hooves.

Draco was quick to run to the white furred centaur's side, using all the spells he could think of to try and cut the rope. "Storm, calm down, stop thrashing! I won't be able to get this thing off, Storm-" Draco cut himself off, realising that trying to calm the frantic centaur wasn't going to work. "Harry!" He yelled. "Try and get her to undo the spell!"

The centaur, Storm, was slowly beginning to suffocate, his blue eyes wide as his lungs felt like they'd explode from lack of air.

"Umbridge, stop it!" Harry growled.

"No!" She snarled in reply. A centaur that Harry recognised, Firenze, a centaur with a reddish brown body, let out a screech of rage. He raised the sword he was holding into the air, and the other centaur's raised their weapons and all charged.

Hermione and Ron dove to one side to avoid the stampede, the centaurs quickly grabbing Umbridge and dragging her away through the undergrowth. She was kicking and screaming like a wild animal, clearly terrified of the creatures she'd discriminated for so long.

The spell was cut off as she tried to reason with them, trying to convince them that she wasn't that bad. She was quickly out of sight, still screaming like banshee.

"Merlin's beard, Storm," Draco mumbled. "Are you okay?"

The centaur was coughing weakly, his neck nearly bleeding rim the rope that'd been cutting deeply into it.

"I'll be alright," the centaur said, managing to get to his hooves. "Thank you."

"It's fine, Storm. Look, could you do me a favour?"

"Anything for a friend."

"I need you to go up to the castle, and try to get Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall to send reinforcements to the Ministry of Magic," Draco said. The centaur nodded. "And make sure they get back to the castle safely."

"What?!" Hermione raised her voice. "We aren't letting either of you go anywhere-"

"Hermione," Harry snapped. "We need to go and get Sirius out of there, and you four are absolutely not coming along."

"What're you- no, wait," Hermione whispered. "I-I-"

Harry pulled his shrunken broom out of his pocket, resizing it to normal and tossing it to Draco, who caught it deftly. "I'm sorry about this," Harry said. "But we don't have a choice."

And with that, Harry's form melted away into that of many, many black bats, which took off through the trees. Draco refused to meet any of their betrayed looking gazes, and took off after Harry, a sick feeling in his stomach.

Whatever was going to happen next, he could tell that it wasn't going to be good.