A/N: Hi everyone. Shorter, more fast-paced one today. Quick thanks to the people who have faved/followed my story (incedentally, they own Harry Potter as much as I do. Which is to say, that, we as a group own it about as much as your father does...). This story is set 20 years later than it does in the books, e.g Godric's Hollow incident takes place in 2001 instead of 1981. Lyrics are in itallics. The wiki is the HP fanfic writer's best tool. Seriously. It proved invaluable. Fron collopotus to confundus, and some **m****r*. Censored for the purpose of not revealing spoilers.

Chapter Rating: T

Chapter 2

Take me to your blackened sky...

Look at slow motion,

Asleep at the door.

Next to destruction,

Reach for the sores.

Harry listened to Hermionie's muggle music. Joy Discovery Invention, the song was called. By a band called Biffy Clyro. A rock band, which was a genre Harry slurped up like a cat to milk.

Get up, get up, get over,

Take me to your blackened sky.

Get up, get up, get over,

Take me to your blackened sky.

Harry wondered what the lyrics were about. And as Draco Malfoy listened across, from the Slytherin table, he knew full well that the lyrics had a meaning no-body but his family knew about. Harry Potter, in a few precious days.


Defence against the dark arts. What could that be about? As Harry entered his first lesson at Hogwarts, he wondered. Proffesor Quirrel, was the teachers name. And he was a bumbling idiot. Honestly, if you were qualified to teach, then you were meant to actually say stuff, as opposed to murmuring and mumbling. From that day onward, Harry knew that he wouldn't get any skills from this lesson this year.

After that, was History of Magic. A dreadful nightmare. 2 hours, of a teacher droning on about how magic began, and how it was given to the precious few first wizards. Harry actually fell asleep, amd had to be woken up by Ron. Gosh, today was fun.

After lunch, Harry went to Charms. Where he learnt something. They were doing floating spells, and, as Hermionie told him, it's 'lev-ee-oh-sa', not 'le-vee-oh-sar'. This was very boring. He knew everything else he had been taught today.

Then, came potions. Oh, gosh. Potions. Proffessor Snape was one of the worst teachers that Harry had ever met. He verbally abused most of the children in the class; the only ones he didn't bully were Harry, Hermionie, and Ron. Ron and Hermionie, because they were just a brilliant pair, and Harry? No idea. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they vaguely knew each other.

That night, Harry had a lot to think about. Malfoy had come up to him that evening, at dinner. He'd said that he was doomed. Harry had replied with 'Bog off' in parseltongue. Which meant that most people, apart from the Weasleys, Hermionie, and Neville had alienated him. Ah well. Today had been a long day.


Sink with your wasted,

Dreams when you can.

Find time to console them,

Become what I am.


Draco decided to add injury to insult which hadn't been given yet. Clever. How did he do it? Well, he approached Harry before breakfast, while Harry was in the loo...

"Listen Harry, I'm sorry for the incident in the hall." Draco started.

"It's okay, I forgive you for both." Harry said, surprised. Maybe Malfoy wasn't bad after all.

"No, wait. I'm not! Colloportus! Accio shaving blade!" Draco said, surprising Harry. He was caught off guard, which meant he wasn't prepeared for Draco's attack. Cutting into Harry's skin, and making him unconcious, Draco them heaved Harry's form into a cubicle. Locking the door, Draco used the 'Alohamora' spell to re-open the toilets door, and prepare for the main event.


If you submit to,

All the hopes you've made.

Down, through,

Your heart.


Hermionie was worried. Where was Harry? It was time for breakfast, and Harry had been bought a late birthday present by Hermionie and Ron. Hedwig, an owl, was now sittinig expectantly on their table. Harry had promised he would be there. So where was he? Ron had gone to find him, in the last place he knew that Harry had gone. The gents. Hermionie was jolted out of her thoughts by the redhead himself, telling her to come to the hospital ward herself. There, the two saw Harry, barely concious, and definitely in stress.

"Who? Who? And why?" Harry murmured, with anger in his voice. Obviously, someone had obliviated his memory of the incident. But who would be this sadistic? And why? What advantage would they get? Hermionie swore to get answers, which she wouldn't get for many years to come.


Get up, get up, get over,

Take me to your blackened sky.

Get up, get up, get over,

Take me to your blackened sky.


Draco knew of the unforgivables. Of course he did. It was obvious he'd know, considering that his father had been a death eater. Sadly, to save his own skin, he'd had to give up that that identity. Lucius Malfoy actively promoted using them to his son. He'd even used cruciatus on hsi son once; he'd broken a family heirloom. And then, the following day, he'd taught his son about the imperius, the cruciatus, and the killing curses. And how the Potter's had effectively murdered his master. A horrible death, slowly losing horcruxes, all th Potter's fault. Then that fateful night, in Godric's Hollow. How Lily had spared herself by saving Harry, condemning Voldemort to a painful crushing. Draco was about to get revenge. He knew it was going to be painful, but Harry would be in Askaban by the end of the week. Draco was sure of it.


Passed away,

I hope you don't mind.

What's a little sin,

To see us through?


Once again, Draco caught Harry in the loos, in the morning. Locking the doors, Draco Malfoy put his plan into action.

"Expelliarmus! Accio Harry Potter's wand!" Draco shouted. And now, the confunding part.

"Confundus!" Draco pointed at Harry's own wand. Now, if any scans were done, all spells done by the wand in the next fifteen miniutes would be shown as being cast by Harry. Which meant phase one was done. Now phase two.

"Imperio," Draco cast, instantly controling Harry, "The next time I say that I am late for breakfast, you will immediately turn to me, channel all your anger into your wand, and say Crucio at me. You will also not remember this meeting or the fact I told you to do this for two weeks. Do you understand?" Harry gave a blank nod.

"Excellent..." Draco said, and left.


If you want it,

Get it,

Come and break my heart.

Take me to your blackened sky.


"Oh great." Draco spat. He checked that both a proffessor and the Potter brat were within earshot. 'Albus, get ready.' Draco thought.

"What's up?" Crabbe asked. A buffoon Draco had somehow attained, he was a limpet.

"Well, I had a skirmish with Potter, and I am now going to be late for breakfast." Draco said, making sure Harry heard the last part. Harry turned, suddenly angry. He didn't know where he'd got this idea from. He didn't know what the curse did. But, nonetheless, Harry pointed his wand at Draco, and, channelling all his anger, he shouted "CRUCIO!"

Draco writhed in pain, but it was made a hundred time better knowing that this was for the greater good. His tummy ached. He fought the urge to laugh histerically. Potter stopped. McGonagall rushed over, and swept Harry under her arm, and to his cell in Askaban.


If you want it,

Get it,

Come and break my heart.

Take me to your blackened sky.


The small rowboat creaked. Harry vauguely wandered where he was going. Then he remembered. Askaban, the wizarding equivalent to the tower of London. He was up that very poo-filled creek, not just withour a paddle, but without the canoe itself. As he reached the small island, he saw the guards. One came up close. A dementor. Harry felt every good feeling, every happy memory, every joke, and every friendly face just 'pop' away. And then he realised the meaning of the song. He looked up, at the the darkening sky. Askaban. With the blackened sky.

Passed away,

I hope you don't mind.

What's a little sin,

To see us through?

If you want it, get it,

Come and break my heart.

Take me to your,

Blackened sky.