Obligatory Disclaimer: I only own the plot and the oft-mentioned potion. Everything else belongs to Queen JKR. I just like playing with her creations.

Additional Disclaimer: The title of this story and the inspiration for the story comes from the song This is Gospel by Panic! At The Disco. Sadly, I do not own this song, or the band, or Brendon Urie. Dammit.

It was well after nightfall when a young man in dark robes staggered down the center of Knockturn Alley. He knew that it was not safe to be there, but addictions made people do things they normally would not do. He should have planned better, should have made sure that he would not run out of the potion that had become essential to his living. When one lived through the horrors that he had, they did what they had to do to numb the pain. It was better to float through life without being tethered to reality than it was to try to live with the aftermath of those horrid years. He never intended to end up like this. In fact, his life was so far off of this planned trajectory, he often felt he was having an out of body experience and was living someone else's life. He went through the motions when he had to be around other people, but he found himself becoming more and more reclusive. The further he spun into his addiction, the more difficult it became to hide. He told his friends that he was coping with his issues, but neglected to tell them exactly how he was coping. He knew that if his two best friends discovered his secret that it would be disastrous, so he did everything he could to hide any and all evidence of his coping mechanism.

He knew it had been entirely too long since he last took the potion, as he was starting to sweat and shake, so he did his best to quicken his pace. He didn't have much further to go, and was looking forward to getting what he needed and leaving Knockturn Alley as soon as he could. He did his best to strengthen his resolve so that he could make the final few meters to the back room of the Knockturn Apothecary. He silently cursed the fact that the potion could not be ordered by owl post and that he had to pick it up in person. Although he knew the old witch that ran the back room was discreet, as she did not want to lose her steady stream of income from the young man, it was dangerous for him to be in Knockturn Alley at any time of day, much less the late night journey he was currently on. He was almost there, the building was in his sight, just a little further and he would have new stores of the potion that he so depended on. He was just glad that, other than the shopkeeper, nobody knew his dirty little secret. He shuddered to think how people would take it if they knew that he, of all people, was taking this particular potion. But if they felt the things he felt, had seen the things he had seen, they would want to do whatever it took to dull the pain. Witnessing death and destruction, being forced to partake in the death and destruction, all of it would be enough to drive someone to the edge. Finally, he made it to his destination and used the special knock the shopkeeper utilized to indicate that it was someone trustworthy knocking at the door. A moment later, the grizzled, old witch opened the door, her nearly toothless smile temporarily sobering him. He really hoped that he wouldn't look like that when he was old. She stood aside and let him in, and he immediately sank into the nearest chair, the lack of potion having made him a weakened mess physically.

"Hello, dearie," she said. "A little late to be making a social call, isn't it?"

He couldn't believe his ears. He was out of potion, had to make the trip through Knockturn Alley in the middle of the night, and she was being sarcastic. If it weren't for the fact that she was the only person he could trust with his situation, he would have left and not given her a single knut. But, circumstances dictated otherwise, and he found himself sitting there in silence as the old witch cackled.

"Ooh, we're in a frightful mood this evening. Did we run out of potion?"

Finally he had enough of her sarcasm. His head was pounding, he was dizzy, he was shaking, and he was sweating. He could not deal with her mouth on top of everything else.

"Of course I'm out of potion. I thought that much was obvious, you old hag."

She tsked and shook her head. "Now is that any way to speak to you elders?"

"I'd prefer not to be speaking to you at all," he replied. "You know what I want, so let's just get this over with already."

"Patience, my child. I just finished brewing a fresh batch. I'll get it vialed up and ready to go in a moment. Of course, we also have to discuss the matter of your payment," she said glancing at the bag that she knew contained his money. In her line of work, there was only one thing better than someone who was completely addicted; it was someone with unlimited funds who was completely addicted. That in and of itself made him her favorite client. He never begged her for credit or was willing to completely degrade himself for the potion. He simply came in, paid, and left. It was the easiest money she ever made.

He laughed. "We never have to discuss the matter of payment. Unlike some of your other clientele, I have the resources. You know the routine. You put the goods on the counter, I hand you the galleons, everyone goes home happy," he said.

"Of course," she replied. She turned away and walked into the back where she kept her brewing potions, whispered the password and entered the room. A few moments later, she came back with several vials of a very expensive, very illegal potion. She set the vials on the counter and looked at the young man expectantly. He just shook his head and wordlessly reached into his money pouch and put the agreed upon sum on the counter. He immediately opened one of the vials and drank the potion. The effect was instantaneous. He no longer physically felt like hell and he was on his way to the beautiful feeling of nothingness that the potion provided. He gave the old woman a genuine smile, nodded his thanks, and left the store.

Perhaps it was the potion's tendency to make him feel invincible that made him less than aware of his surroundings. This would prove to be a costly error in judgment, as he would soon find out. He had put the potions in his satchel and started the walk back down Knockturn Alley, feeling much better than he had before. For some reason he started thinking about the Cornish Pixies that had terrorized the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom in second year. The potion always had the effect of making him remember the most random events. But as he remembered the look of horror on everyone's faces and started laughing, he paid no mind to anything around him. It wasn't until he walked straight into someone that he realized his error. He looked up and when he saw whom he had bumped into, he groaned loudly. Of all of the rotten luck, he managed to bump into an auror doing patrols in Knockturn Alley. While in possession of a bag full of vials of an extremely illegal potion, while under the influence of said potion. He just knew this was not going to end well. He mumbled a quick apology and tried to maneuver around the auror, but the auror did not allow him to pass.

"Why are you skulking about Knockturn Alley in the middle of the night?" the auror asked.

He froze. The potion was not allowing him to think clearly, and while under normal circumstances he could have come up with some kind of plausible reason, he could not think of one at the moment.

"Well, I'm waiting," the auror said impatiently. "I haven't got all night. I'll ask you one more time, why are you out here at this time of night?"

He knew he should say something. He knew he had to say something. But it was like there were a million miles between his brain and his mouth. He couldn't think of anything to say, he just stood there with his mouth slightly open completely speechless. Come on, he thought. Think of something! But apparently he had taken too long to come up with any kind of response, and the auror was immediately even more suspicious than he had been originally.

"Open your bag, sir," the auror ordered.

"Um," he said, trying to stall for time.

The auror knew something was extremely amiss in this situation, so he pulled his wand and muttered a quick Incarcerous. It was at this point he knew that he was, without a doubt, completely and utterly screwed. He was bound and he watched helplessly as the auror opened the bag, and found a money pouch and several vials of potion. The auror uncorked one of the vials of potion and sniffed. His eyes narrowed as he tried to discern what kind of potion it was, as it was not something that he immediately recognized. That in itself set off alarm bells in the auror's head, and he knew that he had likely just apprehended someone with some sort of illegal potion.

"Well, I'm not sure what this potion is exactly, but let's take a little trip to the Ministry to find out. Draco Malfoy, you are under arrest for suspicion of possessing illegal potions."