DISCLAIMER: This covers the whole story...I own no characters, places, items, spells or anything else that was created by J.K. Rowling...the plot and ideas are my own...

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Prologue: Hidden Passageway

Where is she going? He looked around the corner as he watched her look around before disappearing through a wall. No way! She just fucking went through stone! His eyes widened and he ran over to the wall. He could not see any difference from the stone in front of him and the stone of the wall behind him. He reached forward and expected his hand to touch the cool, rough wall but instead it went right through as if it were air, cold air. He pulled his hand back and stared at it. What the hell…Then all of a sudden he heard a cough and footsteps coming towards the corner. He hesitated and then quickly walked through the wall as he heard Filch's voice.

Going through the wall was like taking a dive into freezing water in the middle of winter, it was a rush. And when he came out the other side he was instantly warm and was in a narrow passageway lit by a few torches along the wall. He looked and tried to see the end of the hall but it seemed to bend a ways ahead. He walked without a sound, a talent that he perfected over the years, and kept his wand in his hand just in case.

When he came to the bend he saw that there were no more torches to light the rest of the way and the hall was so dark that he was sure he'd run into a wall without light. Instead of using his wand, in case he'd need it in a fight, he pulled a torch from the wall and held it in his left hand, his wand in his right, and continued down the dark passage way.

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Where the bloody hell am I? He stopped after walking down the many bends and turns of the passage way for nearly an hour and kicked the wall. Where the hell is she? I should have seen her by now?

He backed against the wall and slid down to the cool stone floor. His black pants and thin dark blue sweater not helping to keep the chill of the stone from seeping into him. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, wondering if he should just stay there and let her trip over him on her way back, if she was coming back.

Then he suddenly heard the echo of a voice vocalizing. At first he thought he was just imagining it for it was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, but he opened his eyes and realized that the voice was coming from the direction he was headed towards. Maybe he really wasn't that far behind her, if that was even her; he had never heard her sing before and didn't even know if she could or not. He looked hard towards the end of the passageway and noticed a dim light; his torch was down to a few flickers of flames. He stood and put out the torch by scraping it on the floor. He left it there and walked quietly towards the light and the voice.

He turned a corner and came to a wooden door with a hoop for a handle and a metal grate that would have let him see within the room if the hinged wood was not closed on the inside, like a window shutter. He pressed an ear to the door, suddenly yearning to hear more of the voice from within. He pointed his wand at the door and whispered "Silencio" so it would not make a sound, and pulled the door gently open an inch so he could peek inside. He could not see much at all through the small crack so without thinking he opened it enough to slip inside and closed it behind him.

He leaned his back against door and looked around. He was standing on the upper level of the room. There was a small table two feet to his left, against the wall, with a small wooden model of a grandfather clock, which showed it to be midnight. Across from him was another wooden door, except this one had no grating. To his right was a few stairs, four actually, leading to the lower level room. It was small, with a fireplace against the main wall and a painting of the sea hanging above it. A deep purple carpet was in the middle of the room with a black couch facing the fireplace. On the walls were shelves filled with old books and antique looking wooden boxes. And that's when he saw her.

He walked to the pillar jutting out from the wall at the top of the stairs and hid behind it, his head poking out to look at her. She was reaching up, trying to get a book from the top shelf, and he couldn't breathe as he looked at her. Her fiery red hair was so dark that it looked like blood in the light of the fire, and it was in soft waves down her slender back. It looked so soft and silky that his hand ached to touch it. Her flawless alabaster skin glowed in the firelight and had only a few tiny freckles on her nose that you could barely see anymore. Her deep green eyes were like gems as she concentrated on reaching the book, he just wanted to stare into them and melt in their fire. Her perfect lips were parted slightly as she vocalized an ancient Celtic melody and even though he yearned to taste her sweet lips he did not want her singing to stop.

His eyes trailed down her body and he felt a tug at his loins as he did so. Her body was slender but so perfectly rounded in the right places that most girls would kill to have it. Her tight purple v-neck sweater was like a second skin over her voluptuous breasts and smooth stomach, which was showing as the shirt lifted from her reach. Her tight, low cut, black pants hugged every curve of her body and showed her nice rounded arse. She was fit but not built, soft but not pudgy; she was perfect and his body knew it. He took in a deep breath and swore he could smell her. She always smelled of the wild forest with a hint of vanilla, and that sent was driving him wild. He wanted to run to her and take her; he always had since she came back this year; his last year. She was intoxicating and even though his mind screamed at him that this wasn't right, his body screamed for him to take her; and if she had been able to see him just then her face would probably be as red as her hair because she would be able to see how much he wanted her.

When she had finally gotten the book, having to jump slightly making him hurt more as her breasts bounced some (she was obviously not wearing a bra so that little fact didn't help him either), she walked bare foot towards the stairs. Luckily she had opened the book and began reading, otherwise she would have most likely seen him hiding as she walked up the stairs and into the other room; closing it behind her.

He stayed still for a few minutes, trying to calm himself down, and closed his eyes as the image of her embedded in his mind. He reached down into his pants, unable to stop himself, and placed a silencing charm on him so he could not be heard as he released himself from the ache and pain that seeing her had caused. He unzipped his pants and pulled himself out of his boxers as he slipped down to the ground and leaned back against the wall as he imagined touching her, tasting her, having her.

He moved his hand faster and pressed harder against his flesh as he came close to his peak. If he had not placed the charm on himself his breathing and his moans would have echoed into the other room. His hair and sweater were damp with sweat as he touched himself and ached to release. He bent forward, as if pushing himself to release, and then mouthed her name (his voice silenced) as he cummed onto the stone floor. His body slumped and he rolled onto his back as he lay on the ground breathing deeply. He stayed like that, letting the chill of the stone floor cool the heat that burned inside him, until he heard movement from the other room. He quickly used his wand to clean himself off, fixed his pants, and exited into the passageway.

Without looking back he ran down the winding passageways, not making a noise as the charm was still on him, and came to the hidden wall. He listened for any noise but could hear nothing. He slipped through the wall; feeling instantly refreshed from the cold, and ran towards his common room. When he entered he saw no one there and looked at the grandfather clock that was near the exit; it was almost 1:30 in the morning,. He walked up the stairs to the boy's dormitories and found his room; in his house no one in their seventh year shared rooms. On the outside of the door there was a silver plate with his surname etched into it and had a spell on it so no one, except the head of house, could change it; as did all the other seventh year rooms.

He entered, locked the door and looked around his room. There was a large desk covered in his school things and a few books on the shelf above it; including his diary. There was also a large bookshelf next to it filled with all kinds of books. Straight in front of him was his four posted bed, with his trunk at the foot of it, and nightstand. The curtains were black and always pulled back against the posts. A candle was the only thing on the nightstand. To his left was a door leading to his personal bathroom and beside that was his wardrobe.

He stripped off all his clothes and threw them on the ground as he headed towards his bathroom. He turned on the shower and stood under the hot water and bent his head, letting the water rush down his aching and tired body. He stood there for a good fifteen minutes before turning it off, wrapping a towel around him, and walking towards his desk, water still dripping from his wet hair.

He sat down in his chair and pulled out his diary. He wrote in it, like he did every night, but never wrote about his feelings or thoughts in the way most people do. Instead he wrote incoherent thoughts that wouldn't make sense to anyone but him, just like he always does.

Wall…hidden…secret…voice…red…lush…perfect…touch…want…

He finished writing and walked to his bed. He dropped his towel and climbed under the covers, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

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Alright everyone…hope you enjoyed…will update soon…please review…and maybe even try to guess who the guy is…should be interesting what you all think….