Chapter Seventeen: Voice of Magic

As Harry looked down at the lapping water of the Black Lake beneath his feet, inches away yet not touching his shoes, he reminded himself that he really did have a lot to learn about magic.

Dumbledore's lessons were not held in any classroom or even the Headmaster's office. They'd left the office immediately after classes were concluded for the day and walked straight to the lake. Harry had no idea what to expect, especially when Dumbledore cast an illusion charm over the whole bloody lake and crafted an invisible platform across the water for them to walk on.

Now here they were, standing in the middle of the Black Lake.

"Are you nervous, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"A little, sir."

"If it would comfort you some, you are welcome to release Selena and Aurelion to join us. I can cast a charm to protect them from any accidental magic."

He felt relieved and immediately opened the suitcase handing over his shoulder to release his friends. They looked as equally bemused by their current location as Harry. Aurelion seemed to dislike the invisible platform and took to the air, levitating a few inches up.

Dumbledore cast a quick charm to ensure the snakes would be safe behind them, then turned to Harry again. He seemed to consider the boy before he spoke. "You and I are amongst only a handful of wizards and witches throughout countless generations. Whenever someone with our capabilities is born, they have, almost invariably, left their mark on history. The last hundred years alone has seen four of these wizards born. We account for two of them."

"Who are the others?"

"Tom Riddle," Dumbledore answered, his face grave. "You know him better as Lord Voldemort, but his true name was Tom Riddle. A brilliant student who fell into the depths of depravity and became the most powerful Dark Wizard of all time. Another was Gellert Grindelwald."

The old man paused. His eyes became wistful and sad. "He was once my best friend. No, more than that. In our youth, we were…close. Forgive me, Harry, but I do not wish to discuss the depth of my relationship with Grindelwald. Not today."

Harry just nodded and Albus took a breath. "For all of Voldemort's notoriety as the most powerful Dark Wizard there has ever been, Grindelwald was by far the most dangerous. Voldemort's solution for the vast majority of his problems was simply to kill or destroy them. He sought nothing but power. Dangerous, yes, but Grindelwald was a different kind of danger.

"Words were his weapon, although he possessed an immense magical strength as well. In his prime, only I was able to match him in a direct duel. But put him in front of people and his true strength was revealed—with a few words, he could convince an audience that his cause was just. He could place himself on the same level as the population and brought forth his ideals with a silver tongue few could resist. In the right circumstances, I believe he could turn anybody to his side. He could pit family against each other with just a number of choice words. That was all it took. He was exceedingly good at it."

Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back and looked towards the castle. "Voldemort's supporters followed him out of fear. Grindelwald's did so out of loyalty to him and the cause he so fanatically preached. Do you understand what I mean? The Death Eaters of Voldemort would die because failure would mean death as a punishment anyways. Grindelwald's loyalists would have died for the ideal he created, not just for the man himself. He was beloved. Raised on a platform as their hero. In contrast, Tom Riddle seems much like a dangerous toddler throwing a rather spectacular tantrum."

The old man stopped and snorted. "Listen to me rambling. Age really must be getting to me, Harry."

"It's alright, sir," Harry replied. "I like to listen."

"And while that is a great quality to have, please interrupt me if I go off like that again," Dumbledore chuckled. "Or we won't get anywhere in your lessons."

His expression relaxed and he looked out over the waters again. "Now then, shall we begin?"

Dumbledore stepped forward and extracted his wand. It was the first Harry had seen of Dumbledore's wand, and the appearance struck him as unique—though the wood itself seemed normal, the wand had a series of nodules running down its length, along with a small inlay inscribed with runes. He cocked his head to the side as he regarded the wand. He hadn't seen a design quite like that before.

He watched as Dumbledore closed his eyes and lifted the wand, holding it aloft towards the deeper parts of the lake. Harry felt the atmosphere thrum with magic and gasped.

The water rose, a gigantic, liquid serpent transforming as it climbed up into a dragon, then a bird, then a boiling, oceanic mockery of fire, and on it went. It encompassed their surroundings on a scale that filled him with awe. He watched as the fish and other creatures of the lake swam through tunnels of water flowing twenty feet above him, not caring or totally trusting of Dumbledore's masterful spellwork. And a wordless spell, at that! A casting done with such practiced expertise that it was second-nature to him. The very idea was mind-boggling.

Dumbledore let out a long, soft breath and slowly lowered the wand, depositing the surface of the lake back to where it belonged with scarcely a ripple. The control he displayed was unmatched. Harry hadn't read of any witch or wizard before who could have achieved such a thing without leaving a total mess of things.

The Headmaster turned to him again and smiled, barely looking drained from the ridiculous amount of power that was required to achieve such a feat. "Are you ready to try?"

"I…I'll probably drown us trying to do that," Harry replied weakly.

"Please don't," Selena hissed, still appearing to be stunned from Dumbledore's display.

"I'll keep us safe," Dumbledore promised. "And that is the point of these lessons, Harry—to teach you how to wield your magic at its utmost and control it. To bind it to your will and command that force with surety. You will make mistakes. That is simply a part of learning. There is no shame in it."

The old man walked over to Harry and stood at his side. "Your wand, Harry."

Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the water. Dumbledore held a hand over Harry's and gave him a questioning look. Asking permission. When the boy nodded, he slowly, gently took the boy's hand by the wrist—an easy guide with a feather's touch.

"I chose for our lessons to be here on the lake because you've told me before how you enjoy elemental spells above others," Dumbledore told Harry. "This will be the best place for you to start learning, I believe—on magic you are comfortable and eager to practice. Other spells can come later. It is my firm belief that one learns quicker and better if the subject is something that excites them."

"How do I…" Harry nodded his head towards the vast expanse of water. "I've never—nothing I've done even comes close to what you did."

"As it should not," Dumbledore acknowledged simply. "Never forget that you are still learning. It will take time to grasp your full prowess in your hands. Be patient. Now…breathe. Slow. Deep. Center yourself. Close your eyes."

Harry did as was instructed. Dumbledore's voice became his focus. "Do not summon your magic, not yet. Extend your senses. Listen. Feel the world around you. The breath of the wind. The ebb and flow of the waves. The creatures, big and small, going about their lives. That's it…the world is saturated in magic. You have only to realize it."

The Headmaster paused a minute as Harry oriented himself. "Magic, at its deepest point, is interpreted differently by each person. For me, it is a heartbeat. The pulse of the world. The deep breath and exhale of magic, coming and going from the core of the planet like a wand gathering magic for a spell."

Harry frowned, trying to feel for something like that, but Dumbledore must have known he would try, because he followed his example quickly. "That is not necessarily how you will interpret it. As I said, it is different for everyone, but it will feel natural to you. That is the difference. Do not seek an interpretation that is artificial—it will not serve you as greatly as it could. Focus. Feel for it."

"How?"

Dumbledore's voice became somewhat amused. "Did you speak Parseltongue intentionally just now?"

Harry frowned. "No?"

"Then focus on it," Dumbledore suggested. "Parseltongue comes so naturally to you. It is as easy as breathing, is it not? Magic should come to you as easily as you speak to snakes. It is a part of you, just as it is a part of the world around you."

"Like…a voice? Maybe…"

Harry relaxed and reached deep—

And suddenly it was just there—no! Not just there. It had always been there, he was just deaf to the melody. A soundless voice, a rhythm he could hear and yet could not, for it filled his being, not merely his ears. A soft melody of the water, the various songs of animals and plants and a poem that rose and fell as the wind picked up and died again. There weren't words—they weren't even truly sounds, but he felt like they should be.

"That's it," Dumbledore's voice, though soft and encouraging, was almost ugly in comparison to the pure—if chaotic—sounds of magic Harry had been exposed to. "Open your eyes."

Harry did.

He froze in surprise at the sight of countless, individual droplets of water hovering around him, suspended and frozen. The air was full of magic—his magic.

His control slipped almost immediately and Harry yelped as the water plummeted back to the lake, an instant downpour that was over in an instant.

"Well done," Dumbledore praised. "That was excellent, Harry."

"There's—there's so much," he whispered, dazed.

"It's extraordinary, isn't it? Now, you said it was a voice for you?"

"Kind of. It's hard to put into words. Actually…I'm not sure I could."

"Then don't," Dumbledore suggested. "If it is a voice for you, then imagine a choir. An orchestra, countless instruments in need of a conductor to make music of them. Try it. Guide the voices so they may sing for you."

Harry took a deep breath and reached again. It was easier now that he knew the feeling, he realized. He held his wand aloft and focused on the song of the water. "Ascendio."

Initially, the water fought his direction and only a bit of it started to rise up. Dumbledore advised him again. "Direct your wand. Guide the song. Allow the magic its nuances, but remember that you are in control. You are the conductor."

Harry considered that and loosened the tight grip he had on his wand, slowly guiding it up and around in a loop. The water's song ebbed, then with a low roar, began to rise up en masse. It wasn't nearly as large as Dumbledore's manipulation and it was a lot messier—water was cascading back to the lake constantly—but he was doing it.

"Release it," Dumbledore quietly ordered. Harry did.

The water crashing back to the lake was reminiscent of a liquid meteor, cratering into a void that was filled with the rush of empty space being smothered in a flash flood. Dumbledore waved his wand casually to direct the resulting waves to smooth out and calm, returning the surface to its lapping calm.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, who removed his hand from the boy's and beamed at him. "A good attempt. You can only improve from here."

"Can I try again?"

"Yes. Whenever you're ready."

Harry looked at the waves, narrowed his eyes, and grinned. He felt for the voice of magic and tried to guide the water's song once more.

It was a tense few days before Newt Scamander arrived at Hogwarts.

He'd brought along with him his magical suitcase (as usual) and Charlie Weasley, who had apparently been doing some work with Newt on a recent study of Norwegian Ridgebacks. It was Harry's first time meeting Charlie, and to no surprise, Ron's older brother was as friendly as he'd expected.

"Nice to meet you, Harry," Charlie grinned as they shook hands. "Ron's told me a lot about you in his letters. The Twins even dropped in a good word or two."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Harry said bashfully, not really sure how to respond to the praise. "I didn't know you met Mr. Scamander."

"Charlie and I are colleagues in Dragonology," Newt filled him in. "I'd heard good things about him from his peers, so I hired him on as an assistant during the study. Since I'm not quite as spry as I used to be, I thought he might be a good man to do the heavy lifting while I sat back and took notes."

Charlie laughed. "Don't listen to him—I've seen him wrangle dragon chicks like it's nothing. Did you know he worked with Ukranian Ironbellies during the first war? The dragons loved him and tried to eat the other handlers. I think the Ministry closed the program down because they were worried he'd amass some sort of dragon army."

"Rubbish," Newt scoffed.

Dumbledore shook his head in amusement before turning serious. "I hate to cut our pleasantries short, but we should really get to the matter at hand."

"Yes," Newt looked from Dumbledore to Harry, who had Selena coiled around his feet and Aurelion flying in a lazy circle over his head. "Could you tell me exactly what happened, please?"

Harry filled him in on what they'd experienced, trying to remember every detail he could. Dumbledore occasionally added in a bit of information, mostly some history regarding the Chamber of Secrets and the supposed beast that lived within it.

Newt's brow furrowed in thought. "All the signs point to the creature being a Basilisk. Still, a thousand years…I find it very hard to believe an animal of that size could survive for so long on what I assume is an extremely limited diet. Someone would have noticed long ago if it was actively hunting."

"Could be a charm that slows aging or puts the animal into stasis?" Charlie suggested. "We use those charms on dragon eggs when the population starts to boom too much. On the off-chance something goes wrong and the species becomes endangered, all we have to do is lift the charm and the eggs are usually good as new."

"It's a possibility," Newt admitted. "I never met Salazar Slytherin myself, but if the stories are to be believed, he was certainly strong enough to put an animal like a Basilisk in long-term stasis. That doesn't change the fact that this creature is likely severely emaciated from unnaturally long hibernation and the lack of a healthy diet. A thousand years—I couldn't even imagine…"

Harry looked at Dumbledore curiously. "What reason would he even have to leave a Basilisk here?"

The Headmaster grimaced. "Slytherin was a notorious Pureblood supremacist. He felt that only those hailing from the most ancient and noble families should bear the right to be educated at Hogwarts. When the other founders rejected his demand, he was…displeased to say the least. It's entirely possible he left the Basilisk to guard the Chamber of Secrets, but I doubt it. He was plenty powerful enough to utilize magic to lock his treasures away. No, I think the creation and imprisonment of this Basilisk was likely for something more sinister."

"If a creature like that got out and started just looking around, it would be a slaughter," Newt agreed. "Any charms Slytherin may have used—and I doubt he bothered in the first place—to restrict the death curse in its eyes would have worn off by now. He probably hoped that over time, it would be awoken by this 'Heir' mentioned in the message on the walls to carry out his work."

"Which is?"

"No telling exactly what yet, but I have my suspicions," Newt grimaced. "There's only one reason you trap an animal in a place like the Chamber of Secrets, unknown by others and with minimum restraints kept on it; you want it to get loose."

"So it's a time bomb," Charlie said flatly.

"I imagine that was the intention, yes. Slytherin probably hoped his Heir would inherit the same Pureblood mindset as himself and would use the Basilisk to exercise his will long after he died."

"I sincerely hope you're wrong, but I agree that it's certainly a possibility," Dumbledore sighed. "What must be done? When we locate the creature?"

"That will depend a lot on its mental state and if it's willing to even accept another human being outside of Slytherin and his Heir. I've rehabilitated Magical Creatures all my life, and if there's even the slightest chance I can help them, I will try. But if there's one harsh lesson I've picked up over the years, it's that we have to measure honestly when we're just prolonging its suffering. This animal has been kept caged for a millennia. It is undoubtedly the oldest of its kind, and certainly not the sanest or healthiest. Who knows what sort of state it is in? In addition, it is immensely dangerous. So—we try. If it's woken up already, I don't expect it will live much longer. Depending on its condition, that could mean a matter of months or years. I just won't know until I see it."

Newt stopped for a moment and thought a little more. "There are two ways I see this scenario unfolding: the Basilisk will respond to Harry's Parseltongue and at least hear him out, or it will ignore him entirely and attack to satiate its hunger. If it is responsive, we can move it to one of the cases I keep exclusively for isolating dangerous, recovering magical creatures and go on from there. If it attacks, well…"

"Blind it," Selena hissed quietly. "Freeze its weakened body. It is already tiring—it will fall swiftly."

Harry translated and Newt looked terribly sad. "I wish that was unnecessary, but it's something we'll have to consider, yes."

Dumbledore reached up and squeezed the other man's shoulder gently. "If it comes to that, we will try to make it as painless as possible."

"Yes," Newt sighed. "Now…as for where it may be—I've honestly got no clue. I never even heard of the Chamber while I was here at Hogwarts. But Harry, you said it was in one of the walls?"

"Yeah. Or behind it. I couldn't tell exactly, but Nym said there were only castle foundations behind that part of the corridor."

"Not necessarily. There are pipes—the plumbing," Newt fidgeted with his hands. "Depending on their size, it's possible a snake as large as a fully-grown Basilisk could fit through them. It's more likely if the animal is emaciated and skinny."

"Searching the pipes would be a suicide mission," Dumbledore pointed out. "If it's dwelling in the pipes—or at least has a way to access them from the Chamber of Secrets—then there must be some sort of exit point. How else could it have petrified Ms. Norris?"

"Mm. We could try to bait it out," Newt suggested. "Bring it to a location of our choosing and attempt to communicate with it there rather than hunt it to the Chamber."

Dumbledore spun on his heel. "I'll find the layout of the castle plumbing and see what our options are."

"I'll help," Charlie offered. "We use a similar strategy with dragon-handling sometimes."

"I appreciate it," the old man beamed at him, then looked at Harry and Newt. "I think the two of us can manage this for the time being. If you'd like to take this opportunity to discuss Selena and Aurelion's progress, we'll let you know when we find a suitable location to lure the Basilisk out."

"Thank you, Dumbledore," Newt said graciously. The old man set his case down on the floor and opened it, then looked at Harry. A roar echoed out from the space within and Newt grinned. "Shall we?"

Harry smiled and followed him down.

"They're growing remarkably fast," Newt commented, his quill writing furiously into the parchment on his desk.

The four of them were in the small "shack" that acted as their immediate entry point in the suitcase. Selena took everything in again and swiftly returned her focus to Newt, but Aurelion had never seen this place and was eagerly exploring. Harry watched the young Horned Serpent with fond amusement.

"I was going to ask you about that," Harry told him. "I read that magical snakes grow a bit faster than normal snakes, but nothing like this."

"Mm. I have a hypothesis regarding that," Newt replied, holding up three fingers. "There are three reasons I suspect are attributing to their accelerating growth. Firstly, you are keeping them in a magical space that mimics the most optimal conditions for them to survive in. That keeps them healthy and lets them thrive. Second, they have access to a constant supply of food whenever they so choose. Young snakes eat much more frequently than the adults of their species—and in ideal conditions, even more so.

"The third and final reason I suspect is because Hogwarts is located on a magic nexus. That's the reason the school was build here of all places—the very earth is positively buzzing with magic on a scale matched by only a few other locations in the world. It wouldn't be unreasonable to suggest that Selena and Aurelion's bodies are responding to the surplus of magic by growing faster."

Newt shook his head as he regarded the pair of magical serpents with admiration. "You two are in beautiful condition. You're caring for them very well, Harry."

Harry reddened in embarrassment while Selena and Aurelion hissed in pleased glee.

"Now," Newt set his hands on his hips. "Your most recent letter mentioned something about a Black Mamba?"

He was received that Newt changed the subject and explained what had happened during the dueling club. The Magizoologist raised an eyebrow when Harry told him that he'd forcibly subjugated the Mamba without really knowing how.

"That's not something I've heard of before, but then Parseltongue is seeped in mystery," Newt murmured thoughtfully. "It's possibly you could, in theory, impress your magic into the language when you speak it and that might be enough to make a normal snake obey your will without question. I doubt it would work on a magical serpent. Perhaps the simple ones like an Ashwinder, but Selena or Aurelion…definitely not. Too magic-resistant."

"And don't you forget it," Selena sang.

Harry's brow furrowed. "I don't want to make them do things. I just wanted the Mamba to calm down."

"And you did," Newt smiled at him reassuringly. "It's a useful skill to have in case a snake is endangering itself or others. Of course there's no reason to use it more than you deem necessary—just never forget you have that option in a worst-case scenario. I can't tell you how many times I wish I could simply tell a creature to calm down so I could help it, but it's wishful thinking."

"Can you take the Mamba back home?" Harry asked. "I don't think I should keep it at Hogwarts—I'm pretty sure it was born in the wild before Malfoy summoned it and it would probably be happier there. And safer."

Newt considered that. "I'll tell you what—I'll take the Mamba now and house it until the Winter Break, at which point, I'd like to extend an invitation to join me on a trip to Uganda. We could release it there together while I check in on the Nundu Research Preserve."

Harry's eyebrows rose high. "Nundu? As in 'the XXXXX Class African super-predator' Nundu you wrote about?"

"They're not so bad," Newt grinned. "Of course they aren't Kneazles, and we'll be keeping our distance, but if you're interested—"

"I'd love to!" Harry burst out before he could stop himself. He felt himself heat up again. "Um. That is—I'd appreciate the opportunity, sir."

"Please Harry, call me Newt. 'Sir' was my father's name," Newt joked, shaking his head. "Selena, Aurelion, the two of you are of course welcome to join our little expedition as well."

"You mean be the voices of reason while you two galavant after some of the most dangerous predators on the face of the earth?" Selena retorted dryly. "No one can ever say I'm not a glorified bodyguard with how often Harry goes looking for trouble."

"That's not true," he protested. "Trouble finds me."

"You are going to look for a wild predator as dangerous as myself or Aurelion—and you cannot ask this one not to eat you. How is that not looking for trouble?"

Harry pursed his lips. Selena let out a sighing hiss. "You're lucky I love you."

Newt looked all-too amused and inclined his head towards the door of the shack. "Well, until Dumbledore and Charlie sort out a suitable location to bait Slytherin's Basilisk, would you like to help me with some of my creatures?"

"Yes, please!"

Newt grabbed a bucket of magically-preserved fish and opened the door to the expanded space. Aurelion immediately went wild trying to catch all the sights and scents of the place, while Selena just slithered alongside Harry.

"Here," Newt tossed a pair of well-worn gloves to Harry. "The Occamies can get a bit nippy with strangers at first. I'm not sure if your Parseltongue will work on them."

He followed Newt to a large, bowl-like nest housing a few small, green-and-blue serpents with beaks and blue wings. The colors were extremely vivid, and they raised their heads and began to cry insistently as the group approached.

"Yes, yes," Newt murmured. "Mum's here. Let's have a look at you."

He reached into the nest and scooped one of the Occamies up from below, holding it out so he could inspect the little creature. "Looks like we're just about in the clear. Few more days, I think."

"What was wrong with them?"

"Well they were illegally imported," Newt replied. "The eggs were seized from a smuggler and he wasn't keeping them well in the first place. They were too cold, a few of them didn't make it. I've been keeping them with me to make sure they've developed properly. So far, so good."

He offered the little creature to Harry, who held his hands out carefully and smiled as the Occamy slithered into his arms. It reared its little head up and inspected him with eyes that were much more birdlike than a snakes. When it chirped, he didn't hear even the slightest echo of Parseltongue.

"I can't understand it," Harry told Newt. "Guess they are more like birds, like your book said."

"You never tell with chimera-esque animals like Occamies," Newt admitted, kneeling to inspect the other Occamies in the nest. "They can display dominant traits of one species, but be rules by the instincts of another. It takes observation and experimentation to know what does and doesn't work."

Aurelion looked like he wanted to inspect the Occamy nest from above, but the group still in the bowl squawked at him offensively until he retreated. Newt shot the Horned Serpent an apologetic look. "So sorry—their eggs are made of silver, so they're often ransacked by poachers. They don't appreciate things coming at them from above."

"Duly noted," Aurelion hissed, lowering himself to the ground to slither next to Selena. She wasn't as interested in the Occamies since they clearly didn't speak Parseltongue.

Harry let the Occamy in his arms return to the nest and followed Newt once the Magizoologist was satisfied that the others were healthy. They took the bucket of fish to an area with floating water spheres of varying sizes, which kept a number of different species.

"So tell me, Harry," Newt began as they started throwing fish into water spheres occupied by Grindylows, who eagerly devoured the meals. "What piques your interest the most? Magical snakes, or magical creatures in general?"

"I mean, I can talk to snakes, so I think they're easier for me to work with," Harry grinned as a Grindylow seized a fish in its spindly fingers and consumed it with a few big bites. "But they're all interesting. It's…kind of weird to say it, but I like animals more than people."

"Not weird at all," Newt dismissed. "Human beings have distanced themselves from mere animals—or have tried to, but they've given up something important in doing so, I think. They are not capable of evil as we know it, they simply go about their lives day after day. If you earn their trust, you will find there are many beasts who are more companionable than the vast majority of mankind."

The Magizoologist chuckled. "Within reason, of course. Grindylows, for example, don't appreciate hugs. You have to learn each individual animal. But once you can do that—understand each creature as they come—there isn't much I find more rewarding than being allowed to work with them."

"I love reading about them," Harry admitted. "And the idea of working with them is exciting, too."

"Well, if our little expedition to Africa goes well, perhaps I'll just have to take you on a few more travels," Newt winked at him.

"I'd like…that…" Harry stopped as he heard a whisper of something further in the expanded space. It sent a chill up his spine and he turned away from the Grindylows to stare after where he thought the source was.

"Harry?" Newt looked at him in concern, then realization dawned. "Ah. You felt it?"

"What…?"

Newt set the bucket down and gestured for Harry to follow. "Come on. Stay close to me."

Selena's forked tongue flickered out. Aurelion took to the air again, dancing around the water bubbles as he followed them.

They came to a small, secluded habitat filled with ice and snow. In the center was its sole resident: a magic bubble containing…something. Something black and misty and dark, an entity that was pure darkness.

It was mesmerizing and horrifying. Harry felt its 'voice' with his newfound skill in magic and delved just a bit deeper to try and understand what it was—

It's song was a scream, cruel, poisonous and shrieking with pure pain. Harry recoiled, magically and physically. He felt his gut roil and dropped to his knees as vomit spilled from his mouth.

"Harry!" Selena hissed.

"It's alright, Selena," Newt reassured her, kneeling down to sett a hand on Harry's back and rub gently. "I'm sorry, Harry. You must be particularly susceptible to its aura."

"Wh-what is—" Harry choked and threw up more.

"You're alright," Newt encouraged him. The older man looked up at the thing in the sphere and his eyes were haunted. "It's an Obscurus."

Harry's blood flooded with ice more freezing than the snow beneath him. "That's an Obscurus?"

It had been one thing to hear about Obscurials from Olivander, then to find out that he'd almost developed one—and a relief to learn he hadn't reached that point. Even though it had been so close, too close—

But this—

"This could have been me," Harry whispered in numb Parseltongue, staring at the calm, yet writhing black mass just an arm's length away.

Selena disregarded the snow and slithered up Harry's back, coiling the whole of her body around his torso and pressing her snout to his forehead. Newt backed away as she comforted Harry, standing to observe the Obscurial with a tired expression.

"Who?" He choked out.

"I never learned her name," Newt told him. "She was a Sudanese girl I met in the 20s. She'd been imprisoned for her magic and punished for…I don't know how long. Long enough. Too long. By the time I found her and got her away from that place, she'd already developed an Obscurus. It went out of control and I tried to save her, but all I could do was separate the Obscurus from her body. It wasn't enough."

He was quiet for a long, long moment. "She was eight."

Newt shook his head and helped Harry to stand up—Selena still attached. "I kept the Obscurus contained in this so it could be studied. I hoped if ever I encountered another Obscurial, I might be able to help them where I couldn't help the Sudanese girl."

Harry shivered and backed away from the poisonous mass with Newt. "Did you ever have to?"

The man somehow managed to look even older than before. "I didn't get the chance."

He knew instantly there was a story there, but Harry didn't want to know and Newt didn't seem interested in talking about it, either. "Come on, Harry. Let's feed the Mooncalfs. They're much more friendly than an Obscurus, I promise."

"Yeah," Harry replied, dazed. He cast one more look at the Obscurus, felt the shriek of its presence down to his bones. With a shudder, he all but ran after Newt, away from that dark parasite.

A/N: I can't stop writing this story rn. Idk why. I'm gonna get back to Viridescent soon, but I think I want to spend a bit more time on this- I want to make sure I'm feeling fresh to write MHA content again so I don't burn myself out.

In other news, my work schedule is all kinds of jacked. The good news is I work only at night and my days consist of staying home and recovering from said work- which means I have lots of time to write! When my cats aren't badgering me, that is XD

Anyhow, as ever, please review and thanks for reading!