A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her associates. Please support the official release.

WARNING: Mature themes are present in this chapter. Reader discretion is advised.

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The Obscurus was growing tired. It had destroyed mercilessly, fed on the blood of an innocent and tore apart the walls of the school. The devastation was reaching an end, the source of its magical energy almost exhausted. "Harry" would soon have nothing left to give, no anger left to harness.

Now, it had been reduced to floating down the corridors without purpose, without goal. Its lust to ravage was all but sated, its will to destroy used up. It had no reason to exist anymore. It had served its function.

With a final roar of wind and tremble of power, the Obscurus dissolved.

The smoky substance that had once carried with it great magical intensity retreated, seemingly vanishing into thin air, leaving behind nothing but the frail body of one terrified Harry Potter.

Hogwarts Corridors

Hermione had been walking for a solid ten minutes before she noticed it. The tremors had stopped. The vibrations of magical energy that had previously filled the air were gone. The school had fallen silent once more.

At first, she couldn't quite believe it. Expecting the shockwaves to resume at any second, she pressed herself up against the wall, desperately hoping nobody would come this way and spot her half-naked, trembling body.

But the waves never came.

When it became obvious that the nightmare was over, she fell to her knees and started sobbing. She couldn't help herself; the tears just came on their own, flowing out of her like an endless stream. The sobs forced their way up her throat, spasms raking through her body with each gasp.

Hermione had never felt so alone.

She stayed like that for a while, crying for no reason in particular. She didn't even know why she cried, only that it made her feel better. When she could finally cry no more, she whimpered instead.

And that's when she heard it. A howl of sorrow that did not belong to her. Another person was crying somewhere, not too far from her. She couldn't see anyone, but they had to be close.

Getting up on shaky legs, she wiped away her tears as best she could, before continuing down the hallway. Maybe the person was injured, or in need of help.

Rounding a corner, she finally spotted the owner of the cries. The person appeared to be a boy, huddled over next to the wall, his body shivering like crazy. It wasn't before she moved closer that she recognized who it was. It was Harry.

"H… Harry…?" she whispered, her voice coming out coarse and rough. The boy instantly stopped sobbing, his entire posture tensing up.

"W-Who are… Who is it?"

"It's me, Harry! It's… Hermione…"

"Hermione…?"

As he slowly turned around, Hermione let out a gasp of surprise upon noticing the state he was in. His clothes were tattered and ripped apart, his eyes red, his skin pale.

"Harry, what… what has happened to you?" she asked, reaching out a hand to touch him. He immediately shirked back, as if her touch would somehow hurt him.

"I… I don't know… One moment I was there, the next…"

She could see that he was confused, that he was scared. It made her feel sick to her stomach. Harry was never like this. He was always levelheaded and cool. Seeing him so upset, so… anxious… terrified her.

"You… You are hurt," he commented, his eyes tracing her figure. Under different circumstances, she might have felt a bit embarrassed by that. Now, she couldn't have cared less.

"No, it's… nothing serious. Only minor injuries. You look far worse than I do."

"That's… probably true…"

"Harry, what happened to you? You have to tell me…"

He recoiled slightly at that, his eyes shifting to stare at the ground instead.

"I… I will. But not here. We have to get away from this part of the castle…"

"Why?"

"I'll… I'll tell you later. Just come with me, please?" he pleaded, his voice strained.

"… Okay. Okay… But promise you'll tell me."

"I promise, now please just come…"

The couple started walking down the corridor, a deafening silence filling the air between them. It was painful. Hermione was scared, confused and unsure of herself. Nothing seemed to make any sense anymore.

Not a word was said for a long while, before Harry finally broke the silence to lead her into an empty classroom.

"Here."

She followed him in, closing the door behind her with a heavy thud. The classroom was dark, but Harry didn't seem to care. He sat down on one of the empty chairs with a sigh, shifting around so he could face her.

"Okay, we're here now. Time for you to explain all of this," she started, using her right hand to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face.

"I will. But first, you should probably… transfigure yourself some robes or something. It's… kind of distracting, to be honest."

She saw his eyes fall to her breasts, his face twisting into an awkward grimace. This time, she did blush.

"Well, I would if I could! But I've… lost my wand…"

"You can borrow mine."

Pulling out his wand, he leaned forwards so she could grab it. A minute later, Hermione was no longer half-naked, her slender body now covered by black robes with blue highlights.

"Thanks…" she murmured as she gave it back to him.

"No problem."

"Now, explain."

Letting out yet another sigh, Harry took a moment to rub his sore eyes before continuing.

"You remember how I told you about my… condition? About the Obscurus theory I had?"

She nodded, already realizing where the conversation was headed.

"Yeah, well… turns out, I was right. I do have an Obscurus growing inside of me; have had for a long time, actually… And today… it got out."

Despite already knowing what he was going to say, she still couldn't quite hold in the gasp as she heard him utter those words. So Harry had been the one responsible for the earthquakes… for all of the destruction.

"I know…" he muttered, his eyes shifting awkwardly around the room to avoid looking at her. "It's bad. It's… really bad."

"Harry, I…" she started, but he interrupted her.

"Stop. I already know what you're going to say. You are going to say it wasn't my fault, that I shouldn't blame myself for this. Just… don't, Hermione. There is no one else to blame. I'm the guilty party here. This is my fault."

She felt her heart breaking as he talked. She had never heard him speak so… sincerely before. It was obvious that he was in pain. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his words, read it in his body language.

"I lost control. When I found you in the Dungeons… I couldn't contain it anymore. It felt so good to just… let go. To let it all out."

His hands were twitching now, his voice beginning to crack.

"I was so… angry, Hermione. I wanted to kill them. Punish them for what they did to you."

"What they did… to me…?" she whispered, desperately trying to remember anything at all from before she woke up on the floor. It was all a blurry mess to her.

"Yeah. Crabbe came and told me that you had been involved in an… accident…" he nodded, taking a deep breath before continuing. "It was obvious from the moment I saw you that they had done something to you. Why else would you be lying unconscious and half-naked on the ground? I thought they had… I thought they had raped you. Abused you."

Hermione could feel the color draining from her face, her eyes widening in shock. Had Malfoy and his goons actually…? She tried to feel if she could sense any pain coming from that… area… of her body, but her results came up normal. If someone had forcefully pushed themselves inside of her, she probably would have still been able to feel at least some pain. For now, it seemed her virginity remained intact.

"I…" she started, her mind racing to keep up with everything Harry was saying to her. "I don't think they… did anything like that… I don't feel any pain… down there… at least." Talking about it made her feel incredibly awkward, and it was obvious that it was having the same effect on Harry.

"Oh… well… I guess that's good…"

"Yeah…"

An awkward silence filled the room then, before Hermione broke it again a couple of seconds later.

"So… all of that destruction… all of that chaos… it was you? Your Obscurus?"

"I… I think so. I can't remember too clearly, but I do remember feeling angry. So very angry. I wanted to… destroy everything. And everyone. It didn't matter who, or what."

His words sent shivers down her spine. She was just about to reach out to him when he spoke again.

"Hermione, I… I think I killed someone."

Her entire body froze as he said that, her thoughts coming to a complete stop.

Harry killed someone?

The more she thought about it, the more bizarre it sounded. Harry, her best friend for the past two years, had killed someone? Ended someone else's life?

"Wh…" she started, her voice petering out before she could finish the sentence.

"Who?" Harry continued, asking the question for her. She nodded. "I… I think it was a Slytherin… I can't remember his name though."

"A… Slytherin?"

"Yeah. Same Year as us. Dark skin, short black hair. Sticks to himself most of the time, usually doesn't say much."

"Stuck to himself," she corrected, her tone hollow, her facial expression gloomy. She could see that her words hurt him, made him feel even worse about himself.

"I… I suppose you're right…"

He went back to being silent after that, staring at the ground with an unreadable expression on his face. Hermione couldn't tell what he was thinking, what was going through his mind. She wanted to cry again, but had an inkling she wouldn't be able to, even if she tried.

"How… How are we going to fix this?" she breathed, not really believing they could.

"I don't know. I don't know if anyone else knows that I'm the one who's responsible. The Ministry's trace is only placed on our wands, and I never used mine, so they probably won't be able to trace it back to me, at least not yet. Dumbledore, on the other hand…"

"You think Dumbledore knows?"

"No, not really, but you can never be too sure with that man. He seems to know a whole lot more than he lets on."

"…"

Hermione didn't know what to say to that. She had always gotten the impression that Dumbledore was like a loving grandfather, always looking after his children. She could never imagine him doing anything nefarious to anyone, least of all towards Harry.

"Hermione…" Harry suddenly said, his words interrupting her thoughts. She lifted her head to look at him. "I'm sorry. I really am. I never meant for this to happen. Any of it. I know I'm usually a little cold and uncaring, but… but this is way out of line. I need to… I need to be controlled. Supervised. Maybe it's for the best if I just turn myself in to the Professors…"

He didn't get to finish his sentence before Hermione rushed over to him, enveloping him in a tight hug.

"No…" she whimpered, burying her face in his shoulder. "No…"

"H-Hermione?" he answered, his mind running in circles, his hands unsure if they should hug her back or not.

"Don't… Don't do that. They'll take you away, send you to the Ministry. I don't want that…"

Harry finally laid his arms around her torso, pushing her closer, hugging her tightly.

"Okay… if you say so. I won't do it."

"Thank you," she whispered back, a lone shudder making its way through her body.

Headmaster's Office

"This is a disaster!" Severus Snape boomed, his arms flailing about in a fit of anger. "A complete and utter disaster!"

"Calm down, Severus…" Dumbledore answered, the ever-present twinkle glinting somberly in his eyes. "As representatives of Hogwarts, it is our duty to remain calm, even in the face of danger. Getting worked up won't help us with that in the slightest."

"Calm down?! With all due respect, Headmaster, I see no reason to calm down! The school is in ruins, the students scared out of their minds! Many of them are hurt as well, with Madam Pomfrey already working at maximum capacity! Something must be done!"

"We know," Minerva McGonagall sighed, dusting off her robes as she leaned against the wall. "We know something must be done. That's why we're here."

"Do we have any idea as to what caused the destruction?" Remus Lupin interjected, looking to the Headmaster for answers.

"Not presently, no. Our initial search turned up no results, but I can assure you, we will not stop looking until we have found the guilty party."

"That could take ages! The Ministry will want answers, and so will the student's parents. We don't have time to indulge in some wild goose chase that could take months!"

"Severus… that's enough. We share your worries, and will do our best to solve them. But I will not have you frighten the rest of the staff with pointless fearmongering. There is always a solution; you just have to look hard enough for it."

Dumbledore could see that his words had little to no impact on the aggravated Potions Master, but at least they stopped him from talking any more on the subject. That would have to do for now.

"Now, as for the rest of you: we need to start gathering clues. Something caused this. We need to find out what, who and why. For the safety of our students, and the good name of Hogwarts."

The rest of the Professors all nodded in unison, before leaving the office one by one. Well, all of them except for one.

"Yes, Severus?"

The black-haired man waited for the last Professor to close the door behind him before he continued talking.

"Albus, I fear you do not understand the full severity of the situation. The Dark Lord... is still out there. What we witnessed here today might have been his work. The boy… he could be in danger."

"Do you doubt me, old friend?" Dumbledore chuckled in response, walking over to where Fawkes sat perched on his desk. The majestic creature lifted its beak to look at Albus, before letting out a soothing trill that filled the room with an unusual warmth.

"No, I don't. But I do believe you fail to see just how vital this could be. Have you at least made certain that the boy is unharmed?"

"Of course. He is safe, Severus. I know you care for Lily's son, and I would not be so unwise as to let him out of my sight."

"Good. That's at least a start."

"Yes, it is indeed. Trust me, Severus, when I say we shall find the underlying cause of all this. I swear it to you."

The Potions Master just grumbled in response.

Hogwarts Grounds

The cool winter air burned in Harry's throat as he walked along the gravel path leading back to the castle. He had been visiting Hagrid again, the half-giant being one of his only friends apart from Hermione. He was one of precious few adults Harry felt like he could trust.

The snow crunched underneath Harry's shoes as he continued his walk. It was late December now, which meant that Christmas had finally arrived at Hogwarts. Most of the students were in a rather festive mood, despite what had happened only a few weeks back. Christmas decorations covered the school grounds, transforming the bleak castle into a beacon of light that lit up the night sky. It was a good time, a happy time, and something they all needed after… the incident.

The past couple of weeks had been tough. Dumbledore had held multiple speeches in the Great Hall, trying to calm everyone down. He told them that an unidentified creature had infiltrated Hogwarts and wreaked havoc in a fit of primal rage. He also told them that the creature had been taken care of, and would not return.

Both Harry and Hermione knew that was a lie.

He had gone on to warn students about parts of the castle that were still considered unsafe due to unfinished reparations, and advised everyone to look out for falling rocks or debris when they walked about.

His speeches had done little in the way of soothing the unrest, but at least it gave off the impression that the staff were doing something to make things better. Several students had already dropped out, their parents thinking Hogwarts to be too dangerous a school for their kids to attend. Harry didn't blame them. If he'd been in their shoes, he probably would've done the same. It was only logical, after all.

The Ministry had also gotten involved, sending several Aurors to the school to question various students and Professors alike. So far, though, their search had turned up no real results.

To top it all off, Harry's nightmares had gotten worse. Before, they had usually consisted of vague images and sounds that were not inherently scary on their own, but was made so through the existence of Harry's own fear of the unknown. Now, though, they were different. More lifelike. Full memories and scenes playing out in his mind, events from the past, the future and the current. Needless to say, it all made no sense to him. The dreams would rarely be in chronological order, and he would usually dream of a completely different event than that of the previous night.

The dreams weren't the worst part, though. The worst part was the book. The one he had hidden underneath his bed in a secret compartment. He could feel it calling out to him now. Whispering his name with a voice as cold and lifeless as Death itself. The book would try to compel him to open it, to read it and bask in its knowledge. Knowledge that would no doubt end up killing him, if he ever gave in to his impulses. The thing was evil, evil beyond all comprehension. And yet, he felt drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

It wasn't all bad though. The wanted killer, Sirius Black, had yet to show his face. Harry wasn't quite sure what he thought of that. On one hand, he wanted nothing to do with the man. His life was troublesome enough from before. But on the other, some part of him was still curious. Curious to meet his only living family tie, his Godfather. See what he was really like.

Naturally, Hermione had strictly forbidden him from seeking out the man. She still struggled with the aftermath of his outburst, after all. He could see it in her face every time he caught her looking at him. He knew he would have to talk to her about it eventually, but he had put it off so far. That conversation would most likely be incredibly awkward, or incredibly sad. Harry didn't know which he would prefer.

Still, life went on. After it became obvious that Blaise Zabini would not turn up again, Dumbledore had held a memorial service in the Great Hall for those who felt the need to mourn. A surprisingly large amount of students had shown up, despite none of them having known the boy particularly well.

Harry still saw him in his dreams sometimes. Staring at him with hollow, sunken-in eyes, his body halfway rotten. He always woke up with tears in his eyes afterwards, whispering nonsensical apologies to his pillow. Killing a person was a whole lot tougher to deal with than he had originally imagined. Despite his naturally logical disposition, the guilt was still there, gnawing away at him at every turn. Harry suspected he would never quite get rid of it.

Shooting one last look behind him at Hagrid's little hut, Harry let out a sigh of fatigue, his breath turning to vapor as it came into contact with the cold December air. Things had not gone according to plan what so ever. He now knew for certain that he had an Obscurus growing inside of him, a thought that never failed to frighten him. Harry didn't like the idea of something foreign using his body as a host. It sounded too much like a parasite for him to be comfortable about it. But he would have to make do. There wasn't much he could do about it, after all, at least not yet.

Goddammit, this year is really giving the others a run for their money. Who would have thought that after fighting a mad Professor in my First Year and a huge fucking snake in the Second, things could possibly get any worse? Talk about rotten luck.

Now that he thought about it, Harry never did figure out why the Sword of Godric Gryffindor decided to come to his aid when he was, in fact, not a Gryffindor. It seemed kind of ironic that a sword fashioned specifically to answer the call of Gryffindor students would come to the rescue for a Ravenclaw. He would have to do some more research on that later, if and when he got his hands on the sword again.

So many mysteries, so little time… If only I had a fucking Time Turner. Damn you and your extra classes Hermione…

He had practically begged her to let him borrow it when she told him she had one. But no amount of pleading and groveling would get her to turn that thing over. She was too attached to it.

Maybe one day I'll learn how to travel in time without one.

The thought of it made him smile.

Now, if only I could get my hands on another Philosophers Stone…

A/N: So, in the spirit of Christmas and all that, I finally decided to bite the proverbial bullet and went out with a couple of my mates to watch the new Fantastic Beasts movie. And surprise surprise, it wasn't particularly good. I do have to say though: if there is one thing David Yates always seems to nail, it is the atmosphere. I was actually feeling the tension at certain points throughout the movie. The beasts and magic also look fan-fucking-tastic as well, but that has more to do with good CGI than the actual story itself.

And how come no one talks about Grindelwalds' insane control over all that Fiendfyre he keeps throwing around?

But anyway, enough about that. Most of this chapter was written at 02.00 AM in the morning, so forgive me if there are any grammar mistakes present. I was too tired to proof-read it. I would also like to take a moment to thank each and every one of you yet again for the amazing support this story has received so far. We now have over 11,000 readers in just 6 chapters, which honestly kind of blows my mind. That so many of you would take the time to read something I made is genuinely quite humbling. So thank you for that.

As always, if you enjoyed the read, please be sure to leave a review, and possibly even drop a Follow or Favorite.

And I will see you guys in the next chapter!

-Twisted