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

The days following Harry's assault on Draco were not… well, particularly peaceful. Shortly after returning from Hogsmeade, Harry was apprehended by the teachers and taken to an empty classroom for interrogation. Here, they asked him about what had happened during his visit to the village, and Harry, seeing no point in lying about it, had chosen to tell them the truth. They had all looked positively crestfallen after hearing his story. Harry supposed they had never thought the beloved "Boy-Who-Lived" capable of committing such a seemingly senseless act of violence.

Naturally, he had purposefully omitted the part about the Obscurus during his confession. There was no way he was going to tell them about that any time soon.

As an initial punishment for his actions, Professor Flitwick, who was the Head of House Ravenclaw, had chosen to relocate Harry to a different, stand-alone room in the Dungeons in order to keep him separated from his Housemates. Flitwick seemed to think that due to his violent attack on Draco, Harry was now to be considered dangerous, and thus not fit to sleep in the same room as the other students for the time being.

That wasn't all that bad, though. Harry had no problems with getting a room of his own, even if it was tiny, made of stone and hit sub-zero temperatures at night.

That, however, hadn't been the end of his problems. Rumor had spread quickly amongst the students that there had been some sort of fight at Hogsmeade, and once people figured out that Harry Potter was involved, they had become almost ravenous to learn more. This had resulted in him being followed around and harassed with constant questions and heckling about the fight for days. Harry had allowed this to continue for some time before finally hitting his breaking point, and promptly telling the worst of his stalkers to fuck off before he did the same to them as he had done to Draco.

Speaking of Draco, he had been sent to the Hospital Wing to recover from the beating. Harry had rather accurately predicted that the little parasite would go bitching and whining to his father the instant he regained enough of his strength to do so, and sure enough, that was precisely what had happened. Harry was sure Lucius Malfoy would look at it as the perfect opportunity to go after him.

And, to top it all off, Hermione had refused to talk to him or even be around him ever since the incident, so there was that.

Despite all of this though, there had been precious few real, hard-hitting consequences to his attack on Draco. Harry was almost surprised at how reluctant they seemed to punish him. For a second, it even seemed like he would get away with the whole thing almost scot-free.

That was, until he was summoned to the Headmaster's Office.

Headmaster's Office

"I hope you realize that you've put me in a very difficult position here, Harry," Albus Dumbledore sighed, pushing his half-moon spectacles further up the bridge of his nose. "To be quite frank, the Ministry is more than a little displeased with you, and, despite my best efforts, I fear my words may not carry enough weight to quell their outrage. There will be consequences for this, Harry."

Harry, having absolutely nothing to say in his defense, wisely chose to remain silent, letting his gaze stay on the mahogany desk in front of him rather than on the Headmaster. He felt too embarrassed, too ashamed to even look at him. Why had he gone off on Draco like that? It wasn't like him to let his anger cloud his judgement. To let his emotions control his decisions. But, judging by the severity of what he had done to the boy, this time, he had seemingly completely lost it. He had beaten Draco to within an inch of his life, and left him there bleeding on the ground. There had been no mercy in him, no wish to hold back. He wasn't even sure if what he had done was for Hermione's sake anymore. It felt more like an act of pure hatred, committed solely for his own catharsis.

He knew he had most likely been influenced by the Obscurus residing within him, but could such anger really come solely from repressed magical energy? Somehow, he doubted it. And he sure as hell couldn't use it as an excuse to defend himself. That would include admitting to everyone that he had kept the Obscurus, a potentially life-threatening entity, hidden from the world for over a year, which was no doubt illegal in its own right. And, as if that wasn't enough, admitting to having an Obscurus growing within him could easily connect him to the "attack" on Hogwarts last year, which would do nothing but result in his ass skedaddling right on over to Azkaban.

Right now, it felt like everything was falling apart around him. And Harry didn't know what to do about it.

"I do not know what could possibly have motivated you to commit such a heinous act, but now that it is done, there is precious little I can do to help you. In a couple of days, you will be summoned to the Wizengamot to stand trial for the crime of causing great bodily harm to a member of an esteemed Pureblood House. Given that you are still a minor, you do not have to fear being sent to Azkaban, as that punishment is only given to adults, and in response to severe crimes like murder or use of the Unforgivable Curses."

Harry could do nothing but nod in response to the Headmaster's words, his shame and self-loathing for acting so illogically on his emotions too strong for him to overcome in that moment.

"I am sure that a great many people will be very disappointed to hear that the Boy-Who-Lived would commit such an act. If your parents were still around to see this, I have no doubt in my mind that they would be very upset with you for this, Harry."

This time though, he couldn't stop himself from answering.

"Well, maybe if they were still around, Headmaster, I wouldn't have turned out like this."

The old man looked at him for a moment, before letting out a tired sigh.

"We mustn't place the blame for our own shortcomings elsewhere, Harry. Whilst you have undeniably suffered greater tragedy in your life than most, you are ultimately the one in control of your own life. Therefore, nobody else can be blamed for your actions except yourself."

A lie, of course, given that Harry was in no way, shape or form in "control" of his own life, but that was not something Dumbledore was going to share with him any time soon. Harry Potter had to remain ignorant of the fact that he would ultimately have to die at the hands of Voldemort for the prophecy to come full circle. If he told him that, there was no way in hell Harry would willingly choose to sacrifice himself to preserve Britain. And the sacrifice had to be made willingly. Dumbledore was sure of that.

Needless to say, he wasn't planning on letting Harry go to Azkaban either though, no matter what crime he committed or may commit in the future. He was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot after all, so if he put his full weight behind a decision, precious few would dare stand against him. Even so, this little stunt by Harry had placed him in a very bad position, and that was not something he appreciated coming from the boy who was one day supposed to lead the forces of Good against the forces of Evil. Harry could not become a Hero of the people if the people hated him, after all.

"… You're right, Headmaster. I'm sorry… It just slipped out."

"Don't be sorry, Harry. Be better. This whole charade… it's beneath you. You can be so much more than just a petty criminal with a penchant for violence. Your capacity to do good… it's greater than you realize."

Harry had to mentally restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

Always so concerned about Good and Evil… Has Dumbledore ever even considered the possibility that there might exist something in-between those two? Like a moral grey-zone?

"I swear I shall do my best to be… better, then," Harry replied evenly, inwardly cringing at his own words.

"That is all I ask. Now then, I believe I have taken up enough of your time as is. You should return to your room in the Dungeons, as it is getting rather late."

And just like that, the Headmaster was back to acting like a caring grandfather.

"Thank you, Headmaster, I will."

Rising from his seat, Harry gave the old man a short nod of "respect" before turning around to leave the office. Albus watched as he left, his gaze equal parts concerned and contemplative. There was just something a little bit… off… about Harry these days. Like he had some sort of dark cloud hanging over his head wherever he went. Albus couldn't quite place his finger on what it was, but he was sure there was something afoot. And it infuriated him to no end that he couldn't figure out what.

Hogwarts Dungeons

Letting himself fall down into his bed, Harry let out a long sigh of exhaustion as his face collided with the pillow. Everything was going so horribly wrong all of a sudden, and the worst part about it was that he knew it was his fault. He had messed up. He had acted on his irrational emotions, and ended up going nuclear on Draco. And even if he didn't exactly regret beating the living daylight out of that smug asshole, he did regret the consequences that would follow because of it.

If only I could get Hermione to talk to me…

As much as he hated to admit it, he had really grown to care about her over the past few years. And their… escapades… during the summer vacation had only strengthened those feelings. He missed being with her, even if it had only been a few days since their Hogsmeade trip.

And just as our relationship was taking some very… interesting turns as well…

Turning around in the bed to stare at the ceiling, he allowed his thoughts to wander. Ever since the end of his Second Year at Hogwarts, Harry's life had slowly but surely been going downwards. Sure, he had made some new friends, and even developed what he thought was proper feelings for Hermione, but everything else surrounding that seemed to be steadily going to shit:

His Obscurus-condition was gradually deteriorating.

Voldemort had been strangely absent last year, which was worrying in more ways than one.

He was still not completely free of the Dursleys yet (as his arrangement with Dumbledore had only counted for one summer vacation).

His godfather, Sirius Black, was still on the run from the Ministry after being framed for a crime he didn't commit.

Why does everything always have to go wrong for me? It feels like I spend more and more time every day trying to put out fires…

Harry could feel himself growing more and more agitated by the second, the Obscurus within him seemingly waking to life at the thought of how unfair his life was.

Why do I have to be the "Boy-Who-Lived"? I never asked for this life… I never asked for ANY of this!

Rising from the bed, Harry let out a shaky breath in an attempt to control the sudden rush of anger.

None of this was fair. He had never done anything wrong. From the moment he was born into this cold world, everything had been going wrong for him. Every single fucking thing. He could never catch a break. If it wasn't the Obscurus or some other shit, it was Voldemort, trying to fuck with his life and his friends. Harry alone had to face him. Harry alone had to stand tall.

It wasn't like he could rely on anyone else to help him. Dumbledore, who was supposed to be the strongest wizard alive, was seemingly more preoccupied with meddling in other people's business than helping him defeat Voldemort. Hermione, his only friend, refused to talk to him. Luna and Neville were avoiding him, probably to save their own skin and avoid being associated with him now that he had gone full Mortal Kombat on Draco's ass.

It was all just so fucking unfair, and aggravating, and annoying, and…

And then, it suddenly hit him. Out of nowhere, like lightning from a clear sky.

The book. The fucking book. He had completely forgotten about it, ever since he had brought it with him to Hermione's place. It had been lying in his trunk this entire time, forgotten and neglected, collecting dust.

Walking over to the corner of his little room, Harry bent over and opened the trunk containing his belongings. Rummaging through its interior, he finally felt something leathery brush against his fingertips. Grabbing ahold of it, he lifted it up and out into the light, the cloth covering its title already stripped halfway down.

Daemonis Magicka.

The mysterious book sent to him by an unknown person for unknown reasons. Radiating waves of pure malice and darkness, like a wellspring of negative energy. Even now, Harry sensed its nefarious aura, tempting him to look closer and learn more about its dark secrets.

He had been scared of it before. It had felt so evil, so wrong that he had chosen to hide it away. But now, the ghoulish whispers in his mind felt oddly inviting. Familiar, like the voice of an old friend that he hadn't seen in a long time.

Ripping away the cloth, Harry opened the book and took a look at the first page.

TO THE TORMENTED SOULS OF THOSE UNWILLING TO ABIDE BY OTHERS RULES.

The familiar sentence, written in crooked letters, greeted him as he stared down at the yellowed paper. He remembered how it had made him feel the first time he had read it, and it still evoked the same emotion in his heart. Intrigue, mixed with excitement.

Flipping over to the next page, Harry was instantly reminded why he had not made any further progress in the book last time. The entire thing was filled with text, all of it written in Latin. It would be completely useless to him unless he took the time to translate it.

Letting out a snort of frustration, he closed the book with a heavy thud and placed it back amongst his belongings, making sure to cover the title with a piece of cloth. His mind had been thoroughly intrigued by this mystery, and the negative energy that the book gave off didn't bother him anymore. There was no way he was going to hide it away for another semester. He knew exactly what he had to do next. A trip to the Library was needed.

Now where did I leave that Invisibility Cloak?

Headmaster's Office

There it was again! That odd abnormality he had first sensed coming from Ravenclaw Tower last year. A speck of Dark Magic, disturbing the usual flow of magical energy radiating throughout the ancient stone castle. Something so wrong and entirely evil that it had no right to exist in this world.

As usual, the magical signature had only been there for a moment before vanishing just as rapidly. But this time, it hadn't originated from Ravenclaw Tower. It had come from the Dungeons.

Placing the old tome he currently had in his hands back into one of the massive bookshelves adorning the walls of his office, Dumbledore took a moment to ponder the nature of this Dark entity that seemed to pop in and out of existence every now and then. What was causing it to appear in his castle? Someone casting a particularly Dark spell perhaps? … No, it couldn't be that. Spells and charms had a distinctive flair to them that this particular magical signature did not possess. This had to be something else entirely.

Walking over to his desk, Dumbledore absentmindedly started stroking the head of Fawkes, the phoenix he kept as his companion. The bird seemed to tense up for a moment, as if struggling to decide whether or not it should let him pet it, before seemingly settling on letting him. The phoenix had gotten surprisingly hesitant around him lately. Albus didn't know what to make of that.

It was pretty obvious at this point that the Dark entity and Harry were connected somehow. He didn't know how or in what capacity, but they definitely had some correlation to each other. The first time he had felt it, the magical signature had been coming from Ravenclaw Tower. Harry had most definitely been there at that time. And now, after moving him to his own room in the Dungeons, the signature was suddenly coming from there instead. Even a toddler could make out the connection at that point.

The question was just what was leaking such potent Dark energy. Dumbledore didn't know of any item in Harry's possession capable of omitting such an evil aura, bar perhaps the Invisibility Cloak that was secretly a Deathly Hallow. But Dumbledore had held the Cloak in his own hands at some point, and the thing hadn't given off much of a magical aura at all. If anything, the thing had felt positively hollow of magic, which was perhaps fitting given its nature.

No, Albus would have to make a much more serious inquiry into this matter at a later date. Right now, he had his hands full dealing with other problems, such as the preparation for the Triwizard Tournament and Harry's upcoming court case in the Wizengamot. Whatever the Dark entity was, it would have to wait.

Room of Requirement

"H-He's going to be o-okay, Hermione," Neville Longbottom stammered, dragging Hermione right out of her daydream.

"What? Who's going to be okay?" Hermione replied, not quite understanding what Neville was getting at.

"Harry, o-obviously. You don't need to worry about him. He's s-strong. He won't let this weigh him down."

Feeling her cheeks redden ever so slightly at the mention of Harry's name, Hermione let out a sound halfway between a scoff and sniffle, feigning indifference.

"Why would I care about him? We're through. I've put up with his antics for a long time now, but this time, he crossed the line."

"Hermione…"

"I think that's a lie," Luna Lovegood interjected, causing the both of them to direct their attention towards her instead.

"A-And why do you think that?" Hermione asked, trying desperately to defend what she in her heart knew to be a lie.

"Because in reality, you're constantly thinking about him. It's quite easy to see. You often zone out of conversations, and get this really distant, longing look on your face. I don't think you can make it any more obvious if you tried," Luna replied casually, completely destroying what was left of Hermione's weak defense.

"W-Well… I… That…"

"It's okay, you don't have to feel ashamed. Harry did a really bad thing, but I'm sure he must've had a reason to do what he did. The Harry I know would never do something like that out of nowhere," Luna smiled, wandering over to one of the nearby training dummies that Hermione had conjured up when she materialized the Room earlier that day.

"…"

"Personally, I've already forgiven him. I'd love to give him a big hug and tell him everything's going to be okay. But sadly, I am already a target for the other students in Ravenclaw, and I don't want to make things worse for myself by hanging around Harry right now when his reputation is as bad as it is. I'm already a known friend of his from before, so I get enough harassment based on that alone."

Hermione supposed that was understandable enough. Both her and Harry knew how often Luna got bullied by the other students, and despite her general carefree and dreamy attitude, it would be weird if their bad behavior towards her didn't affect her in some way or other. She understood why Luna wouldn't want to make things even worse by giving them yet another thing to target her for, at least.

But Hermione didn't have that kind of excuse to hide behind. Everyone at school already considered the two of them lovers, as they had for years. Whatever reputation Hermione may have had at some point in time had long since been torn to shreds. If anything, the others would consider it weird that Hermione wasn't hanging around Harry, even after the rumors of his violent behavior started spreading.

And in truth, she wanted to be with him. To stand proud next to him and help him carry the burden of being the Boy-Who-Lived. But everything had become so complicated. The feelings she had for him, combined with their long history together, made everything so blurry. And Harry wasn't doing much to help with that. Acting like an overprotective boyfriend to the point where he would beat Draco senseless was not the type of behavior she wanted from him. And whilst a small part of her was a little flattered he would go so far for her; she knew it was not right.

"You don't have to say anything, we both understand how important Harry is to you. He's your best friend after all, and friendships like that don't just break overnight, even if they are subjected to bad things," Luna finished, turning around to send her a warm, almost childish smile. It was so pure it almost hurt to look at.

He's a lot more than just my best friend.

"A-Anyhow… we should get back to the matter at hand," Hermione stated, putting on her "tough teacher" act in order to reel the conversation back into safer waters. "I was about to teach you about the Mending Charm, remember?"

"Oh y-yeah. About that…" Neville asked, raising his hand out of instinct for just a moment before seemingly remembering that they were not in a classroom at the moment, and that Hermione was not an official teacher.

"Yes, Neville?"

"Why a-are you teaching us this s-stuff again?"

The memory of the vow she and Harry had made that night in her guest room at home flashed before her eyes, and she had to fight to suppress the sudden pain that threatened to flare up in her chest.

"Because..."

The reason behind it was obvious. It was because Voldemort was still out there, gathering strength and planning his next move. Because she was afraid that Neville and Luna might not be ready for the return of the Dark Lord. That they lacked the magical prowess and knowhow to protect themselves should another War break out.

"B-Because what?"

"Because…"

Closing her eyes, she made peace with her decision to tell them the truth.

"Because Voldemort is still alive."

A/N: "Harry, backed into a corner and with no way out, finally decides to investigate the mysterious book that has been in his possession for nearly a year now. Hermione, lost and confused, decides to start training Neville and Luna for the inevitable return of the Dark Lord. Draco, beaten halfway to death, decides to turn to his father for help (no surprises there). Dumbledore grows increasingly suspicious of the Dark entity popping in and out of existence near Harry."

Those are the exact lines written as a summary for this part of the chapter in the timeline I made for this fanfic two years ago. Back then, I never thought we would make it this far into the story. I thought I would grow tired of writing on it relatively fast. But here we are, at chapter 20. One third of the way through the entire thing. With almost 100,000 total views on the story. That's crazy to me. Thank you so much for sticking with me through these two years. It means more to me than you can imagine.

Fun fact: this chapter was originally planned to be twice as long, but due to my recent unannounced hiatus, I decided to cut it in half in order to give you guys a lifesign so you wouldn't completely give up on this story. My life has been... incredibly hectic, ever since the publication of my last chapter, and I simply haven't had neither the energy nor the time to write. I apologize for that, but sadly, life takes priority over everything else.

I hope you all have been staying safe in these trying times, though. 2020 has been an absolutely crazy year so far for everyone, so it's more important now than ever to take good care of yourself and your mental health. Treat yourself, even if you feel like you don't deserve it. Life is precious, after all. Just today, on the 29th of August 2020, we found out that Chadwick Boseman (43 years old), the actor that brought Black Panther to life in Marvel's movies, lost his 4-year-long battle with colon cancer. May he rest in peace, and serve as a reminder to the rest of us to live our lives to the fullest, because we never know when it might all come to an end.

So please, stay safe out there, boys and girls. Because I'm counting on seeing all of you again in the next chapter!

-Twisted