Author Note: Well, it HAS been a long time. Real life has a habit of getting in the way of fiction. But I haven't stopped thinking about The Deathly Hullos and I've been adding bits and pieces to the manuscript whenever I've had a chance. Now that NaNoWriMo 2011 has come along, I know what I'll be working on!

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Chapter 3: Beasts in the Darkness

"Draco! Stop!"

Harry dropped to his hands and knees and peered into the tunnel. It was dark and a cold breeze blew past his face. He heard his shout echoing but there was no change in the splashing sound of Draco's receding footsteps.

Harry knew he had no choice: follow Draco or lose him forever. He could only hope that the mysterious dark magic that had possessed his fiance would not, in turn, possess him.

Grabbing the top of the ladder, Harry lowered his feet onto the first rung. A strong hand grasped him by the shoulder.

"Stop! You two can't go down there. S'not legal! You'll both snuff it and they'll blame me!"

Harry stared up at Owen's panicked face. "I have to," he said. The rusty ladder was cutting into his hands. He didn't want to think about what he'd catch from a cut on his hands in a sewer. "I've got to catch Draco and I'll find your friends too."

Owen stared at him. "But you're one of THAT lot," he said. "You're the reason Jimmy and Kev are-"

"No, I'm not," Harry cut him off fiercely. "I FIGHT that lot. I always have."

Owen's eyes widened and he looked doubtful.

"You're right to be afraid of us," said Harry. "Many of us can't be trusted. But I promise that I WILL find and bring back Draco and your friends. You have my word on that." He stared into Owen's eyes.

Owen expression wavered between doubt and fear. Then his face became grim and he gave a single nod. He reached up, took off his helmet, switched on the lamp and dropped the helmet on Harry's head. "Right then. Take this. The air should be okay but there's a lot of other stuff."

"I'll be careful." Harry was already halfway down the ladder. It was like entering another world. The curved, red brick walls shone. Motes of dust sparkled in the light of the lamp. It might have almost been beautiful, but for the darkness and fear flowing in from all sides, especially from the direction that Draco had gone.

Icy water entered Harry's shoes and he shuddered with disgust and cold. By the time he reached the bottom of the ladder, the water was up to his knees.

"He won't have gone far," Owen shouted and his voice echoed. "It's too dark to see."

"I hope you're right," said Harry. He couldn't hear Draco's footsteps anymore. The current pushed against his legs as he turned and waded upstream. He couldn't see where he was placing his feet and wondered if he might drop suddenly into deep, foul water. But he didn't slow his pace.

"Good luck!" Owen's shout echoed.

Harry pulled the chin-strap of the helmet under his chin. Ordinarily, he would have relied on magic for light. But he didn't want to perform magic when there was a chance of a Muggle seeing.

Besides, the pricking of his senses told him he might be needing his wand as a weapon soon.

The water became shallower with every step and before he'd gone two hundred metres there was only a thin trickle running along the floor. His shoes squelched.

A jumble of wet footprints extended up the tunnel. At least three people had gone this way before. All the footprints turned into a side tunnel and Harry followed them.

The side tunnel was completely dry apart from the footprints. But it was scattered with debris that Harry recognised; rubbish that had washed down from the magical world above.

A broken wand, sparking erratically, lay on the ground near a crumbled mass of pages from an ancient Daily Prophet. The images no longer moved but glowed with a faint, white light. A loud clank in the darkness ahead made Harry jump and raise his wand. Nothing came out of the darkness, but the clank repeated itself. Edging forwards, the light from Harry's lamp fell on a cauldron with a broken leg, endlessly rolling onto its side and righting itself again.

Further down the side tunnel, he saw a tribe of Puffskeins, which had adapted to their new home underground. Their fur was grey and they made flatulent noises instead of their usual hum.

The footprints were drying up and getting harder to follow. Harry hesitated at a tunnel junction and wracked his brains for a tracking spell. Hermione was the expert at those. He scanned the walls and floors for clues that Draco had passed this way.

Then he saw the blood-stained footprints. He hadn't noticed them before because they were difficult to see against the red brick floor. Only their glisten betrayed them.

Something dripping blood, with far too many small, round feet, had turned into the tunnel on the left.

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. The darkness seemed to be closing in around him. It's not Draco's blood, he thought to himself. Definitely not Draco's. But he wasn't sure if he believed it.

He followed the blood-stained footprints with his wand raised.

The light from his lamp fell on a hideous, dark shape. His heart hammering in his chest, Harry edged forwards.

It was a Quintaped and it was dead. The shaggy monster lay on its back with its five legs pointing stiffly into the air. There was a freshly-killed pigeon in its mouth and the blood from the pigeon had run down its legs. Blood-stained footsteps led up to the body and then stopped. The monster had literally dropped down dead in its tracks.

Cautiously, Harry reached out and felt the Quintaped's side. It was still warm. It couldn't have died more than an hour ago.

But what had killed it? There wasn't a mark on the body. Harry remembered what Hagrid had taught him about Quintapeds. They were man-eating magical monsters from the Isle of Drear, with tough hides that could repel almost any spell. They were thought to be the Transfigured descendants of a Scottish family, the MacBoons. Somehow, the original Transfiguration spell had been so powerful that it had not only lasted the lifetime of the original victims, but had passed down through the generations for hundreds of years.

So the monster was actually a human being. Harry looked down at it, feeling an odd mixture of sorrow, pity and relief that it was dead. Quintapeds were one of the most savage and dangerous magical beasts. Even werewolves were afraid of them. Remus Lupin had been certain that Quintapeds were coming to get him and Tonks when he'd been Confounded by a Death Eater several days ago.

And now there were Quintapeds living in London, but even they were no match for the dark magic in these tunnels. What spell could have killed a powerful Quintaped instantly? Harry knew of only one - Avada Kedavra - and he knew whose favourite spell that was.

Voldemort's.

Swallowing back his own dread, Harry kept walking. He heard gasping breaths and realised that they were his own. His mind was a maze of fear and questions. Where was Draco? Was he still alive? Was another Quintaped, or Voldemort himself, about to crawl out of the shadows?

Then he heard the voice. It hissed in the shadows up ahead.

"Where are you?" The voice was almost sing-song. "I'm going to find you. I'm going to kill you."

Harry froze. Could Quintapeds talk? He remembered Hagrid saying that they couldn't.

"Kill you, it's only what you deserve," hissed the voice. Then came an odd chuckling or clucking sound from out of the darkness.

A chicken from hell? Harry gathered his courage. "Who's there?" he shouted.

Up ahead, a thin, tall figure scuttled into the light. It took a second glance for Harry to realise it was Draco. The Slytherin was doubled over, though the tunnel was much higher than his head. He moved nimbly and with complete confidence through the darkness, as though it was his native element, merely trailing a hand along the wall to keep track of where he was. There was something methodical about the way his head swung from side to side.

He's hunting, Harry thought. He's a predator.

"Find you... Kill you..." The voice was coming from Draco.

Harry couldn't make out his face in the darkness. "Draco, i-it's me," he heard himself stutter.

His heart clenched when there was no recognition. The hunched figure moved forwards.

"Stop!" Harry mustered a voice of command. Certain forms of dark magic could rub off. He couldn't allow Draco to touch him until he knew what was wrong. At the same time, he was desperate to reach out and touch the one he loved. How could he help him?

Draco didn't stop, but he slowed and straightened as he got closer and sheer horror froze Harry to the spot. The Slytherin's usually immaculate white-blond hair was straggling across his face and his eyes were blazing red.

Harry moaned slightly.

"Kill..." The hissing voice trailed off. Draco tipped his head on one side and peered at Harry curiously. He stepped forward and Harry backed away until he felt the curved wall of the tunnel press against his spine.

A fascinated smile spread over Draco's lips. He reached out a hand and trailed it, not quite touching, down the side of Harry's jaw, down his neck and chest.

Harry found that couldn't move a muscle. All he could do was focus on that wild, red-eyed face, his heart hammering in his chest.

The Draco frowned, not at Harry but at a thought that had seemed to strike him. He turned and whisked away. Harry watched him dart into the nearest tunnel mouth and once again heard the hiss, "Kill..."

Groaning, Harry doubled over and hugged himself. He was horrified at his own reaction. While facing Draco in that wild state, desire had welled up so fast that it was almost like pain. The beast in Harry's chest had met its counterpart in real life. He wanted to grab Draco and shag him right here in these tunnels. He was appalled that he could be so selfish, when Draco needed help.

"Going to find you!"

Harry shook himself. What was he thinking? Draco trying to kill somebody. Not himself, it appeared. But the Slytherin was obviously in terrible danger and so was the one he was hunting.

Gasping, Harry stood up and ran after Draco.

It was difficult to keep up. Though Draco had no light source, there was an unnatural surety in the way he moved through the total darkness, find obstacles by touch and dodging around them. His back appeared to be made of rubber and there was a recklessness to his movements that hadn't been there before.

"You cannot hide! I'm looking for you!" Draco had paused at another tunnel mouth and appeared to be sniffing.

"Who?" asked Harry, stopping by his side and catching his breath. Even though he realised Draco wasn't talking about him, it was still chilling.

In reply, Draco growled and the hairs rose on the back of Harry's neck. The Slytherin took off down the tunnel and Harry followed.

The air became pungent with hazy magical smells. Rivulets of discarded potions were running down the walls. Harry guessed that the potions shop was above their heads. He covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve so as not to breathe the fumes.

Then he choked, but it wasn't due to the fumes. Two dead men were lying on the floor. They were Muggles, dressed like Owen, in white overalls, helmets, waders and gloves.

Both men had open eyes and a look of horror forever frozen on their faces.

"H-Harry," Draco was at his side. His eyes were still red but he was back inside them.

Feeling his heart leap, Harry said, "Draco."

"What's going on?" The Slytherin swayed. "What happened to these Muggles?"

Kneeling down, Harry pressed his fingers into the necks of each Muggle in turn and remembered what Kingsley and Moody had taught him. "No pulse. They're cooling down. I think they've been dead at least an hour."

"There's not a mark on them," Draco was hugging himself and rocking. "Avada Kedavra, it has to be. There must be some Death Eaters still free."

"Or Voldemort." Harry reached over and closed the Muggle's eyes.

"It can't be. We saw Voldemort die last night."

"We thought we did," said Harry grimly. "What if he had another Horcrux?"

"That's impossible! Severus used Legilimency on him. He only saw six Horcruxes in Voldemort's mind and they were all destroyed!"

"I don't know who did this, Draco." Harry got to his feet and silently performed the Wingardium Leviosa spell. The two Muggles floated up above their heads. "But these tunnels are full of dark magic."

Draco clapped both hands to his mouth but there weren't enough to stop the animal hiss of fury escaping.

"What's wrong with you, Draco?"

"I don't know. I was so ANGRY all of a sudden. Nothing else seemed to matter because I knew HE was out there."

"Who?"

Draco made a sound halfway between a chuckle and a cluck. "Him! The one who has to die."

"Who is he?" Harry persisted.

Words seemed to fail Draco. "I don't know," he said, rocking himself. "He's terrible. I can't let him… I can't let him…" Abruptly, all the fear and confusion faded from Draco's eyes, as did Draco himself. "WHERE ARE YOU?" The hissing voice screamed. "COME HERE AT ONCE SO I CAN KILL YOU!"

The scream echoed down the tunnel and Harry felt something change. A visceral dread rose in his chest. HE had heard and HE was coming. Harry didn't know how he knew, maybe it was a whisper in the distance or a barely sensed flicker of consciousness. All he knew were that his instincts were screaming at him to flee. An evil beyond calculation was drawing near, terrifying yet horribly familiar. How often had he battled dark magic?

The tunnel walls seemed to be warping in around them. Harry blinked and the illusion disappeared. Beside him, Draco moaned.

"He's coming. Talk to me, Harry. I can't think. I'm so angry…"

Harry didn't know what to talk about. The sunlit world they had left only a few minutes ago seemed very far away, though it couldn't have been more than a few metres straight up. With dry lips, he said, "I'm looking forward to my engagement present. What are you getting me?"

"A four-poster bed," said Draco instantly. Then he blinked and slapped his own face. "Why did you ask me?" he said peevishly, suddenly sounding much more like himself. "It was meant to be a surprise! Nott is picking it up for me at Carve and Danish's in half an hour or so."

"Our own four-poster bed." Even in his current situation, the thought was enough to make Harry grin. "We're going to have fun with that."

"Aren't we? Oh…" Draco faded out of his own eyes. "Kill you! I'll kill you. Wait..." His eyebrows knitted together. "It's too soon."

"What?" Harry had been staring into the darkness, wand at the ready, but now he turned his head.

"It's too soon," the hissing voice insisted. "Not ready to face him yet, not ready." Draco shook his head and came back to himself. "What's that?" he asked, pointing.

Harry raised his head and the light from his lamp fell on a grey rat with a wand in its mouth. It turned and scampered back down the tunnel the moment the light fell on it. Harry's freezing spell struck sparks from the red brick where it had been standing and glaring at them.

"Get it!" Harry charged forwards.

Draco grabbed him by the arm. "Stop!"

"Let go! That rat was carrying a wand. It was an Animagus or possessed!"

"Don't follow it. HE is coming. If you follow that rat, you'll die. We have to go back!"

"I've fought dark magic a hundred times." Harry struggled in Draco's grip.

"I know, Harry. But you can't fight this. Don't ask me how I know but I've never been surer of anything in my life. If we stay here, we'll die. HE will kill us." Draco's eyes blazed red and his voice hissed. "Soon fight! Soon! Not ready!"

"We can't go back. What will we tell the Order? That we knew dark magic was coming and we ran before we saw it? We have to fight!"

But Draco wasn't listening. "He's here!" The hissing voice rose to a scream.

A rasping noise, like a cloak brushing along the dusty floor, was coming out of the shadows and there was movement. Harry aimed his wand.

"RUN!"

Something powerful knocked all the breath out of Harry. He was being carried back down the tunnel. The walls blurred with speed. He struggled and could only make out sprinting legs below him and the objects on the floor rushing past. He yelped as the dead Quintaped loomed up and he straightened so it wouldn't hit him on the face as he went past.

Draco was carrying him, without the slightest sign of strain or tiredness. Harry thrashed but the arms around him did not falter. The two dead Muggles were being towed along behind by Harry's spell and he had a horrible, close-up glimpse of their dead faces.

"Let go of me, Draco."

The Slytherin merely hissed. His strength and speed were impossible. Harry had wrestled him before and found that they were well-matched. But wrestling Draco now was like wrestling steel.

They were back in the first tunnel, where the water flowed, before Draco put Harry down. Immediately, Harry took a step back the way they had come and felt a hand close over his wrist. Not painful, but immovable.

"He's coming."

Harry knew Draco was telling the truth. Every instinct told him that the evil they had nearly faced was in hot pursuit. It would be here any moment. "I'll fight him-" he began.

"I love you."

Harry fell silent. The red eyes were looking at him, full of sadness and concern. He couldn't resist those eyes. Red as they were, they were Draco's. "Okay, we'll go back. We have to take care of the bodies anyway."

The water rose up their legs as they waded down the tunnel. Up ahead, where the light of day could just be seen, Harry heard a voice.

"Well, I'm not doing the paperwork. S'not my concern if people want to climb in. Maybe I should install some red velvet ropes? Line up over here, for Middle Level Sewer Number One. No shoving, it's an exclusive place. You only get down here if you're Number One. Maybe Number Two. Huh huh. Oh, bugger!"

Harry heard a splash, as if someone had kicked out at the water in frustration. Despite everything that had happened, he smiled. "Owen!" he said.

There was a splashing sound, as if Owen had reeled in shock. "Is that you two?"

"Yes." Now Harry could see the flusher. He was standing in a brilliant sunbeam at the base of the ladder, looking anxious.

"What took you so long?" Owen began, then yelped. He had seen his dead friends.

"I'm sorry, they'd been dead for an hour when we found them," said Harry. "The person who killed them is chasing us now."

Terrified, Owen pressed back against the ladder.

"Take your friends," Harry shuddered and knew that they only had a minute or so to talk. "Tell the police that you found them in the tunnels. They'd be overcome by poisonous gas or something. Don't go back down here again. Shut the manhole cover and don't tell the police about us."

"How did they die?"

"I'm investigating it," said Harry and knew right then that he'd never rest until he'd found the truth.

"You're some kind of copper?" asked Owen.

Harry thought of being an Auror. That was all he'd ever wanted to be. "Sort of," he said.

"Will you tell me what you find out?" asked Owen.

"How?"

In reply, Owen pulled a pad of paper and a pen out of one of his overall pockets and scrawled something. "This is my work number. Let me know," he said, stuffing the piece of paper into Harry's top pocket. Then he lifted his helmet off Harry's head and climbed up the ladder, drawing the bodies of his friends behind him. Harry released the levitation spell as he watched the flusher pull the bodies to safety.

Owen's head appeared in the manhole a moment later. "I'll put the cover on. How are you two going to get out?"

"Our own way," said Harry, not wanting to mention Apparition. The nameless evil was approaching and Harry could see the tunnel warping around them. He draped one arm around Draco, who was snarling at the darkness. "Ready to side-along?" he muttered in his fiance's ear.

Owen looked ill. "Right then," he said and his face disappeared. Then it reappeared. "Is this all because of those whore crotches?" Harry must have looked at him quizzically, because he withdrew his head. "Forget I mentioned them. Goodbye."

A moment later, there was a metallic clank and darkness fell.

OOoOoOo

Author Note: I hope that was worth the wait. There's plenty more where that came from and shagging too! Please review, it's a great encouragement to write.