This story has been altered from its original form to conform to rating standards. The entire, unedited version can be found on my website under an NC-17 rating. Most edits are minor in nature and don't affect the plot, where they do, I have done my best to maintain the integrity of the plot.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Harry ducked behind the statue at the base of the stairway. He readjusted his invisibility cloak to make sure his toes were covered. He had thought he heard someone coming. Why was he here? He couldn't believe he was lurking around the dungeons. Here he was, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, seventh year, and head boy to boot, sneaking around trying to get in to the Slytherin common room on a dare.

He laughed quietly at the thought. He considered what other people would say. Oh, yes, in their spare time, the Gryffindor boys play truth or dare. It was true, but not at all the way it sounded. They had started in sixth year. It was no ordinary game of truth or dare, more like extreme truth or dare. They were still playing the same game from sixth year, taking their turns, often less than willingly. There were no cop-out answers. If you said 'truth,' you were asked for more than just a truth. If you were asked how many girls you could have in one week, you were expected to take a week and find out. If you were asked if you were gay, you had better not answer before you find a bloke to snog. The dares were worse and often took long periods of time to complete.

Harry wondered what had made him say 'dare' when Seamus had called his name. His mind had been a complete blank. Seamus had thought for a moment, then had stood to proclaim the challenge. "Your dare is," he had paused for effect, damn Irishman was so dramatic, "Draco Malfoy!"

Harry had felt his stomach hit the floor. Seamus had continued. "Find out his deepest secret, the thing he guards the closest."

Ron had piped up. "'My dad is the Dark Lord's lapdog' doesn't count, we all know that!"

Seamus had nodded to Ron. "Right. Then," he had stopped for a moment to think, "then make him knowingly reveal it to the person he most dreads telling!"

Ron had clapped his hands together. "All right!"

Dean had taken this as a cue and had begun a round of applause. Neville had joined in, as had Ron. Dean had slapped Seamus on the back. "Good one, mate!"

Harry had felt about ready to pass out, but he knew the ritual. He had stood on as the applause faded. "I accept your dare unto myself and it shall be done."

Now, Harry cursed the game, sending him after his enemy's secrets. It would be just his luck that he'd find out Draco's mother was dying or something. He kicked the statue and immediately regretted it; it was much harder than his toes. He kept quiet however, because the sounds of approaching students were getting closer. Yes, here they came around the corner; three girls, third or fourth year by the look of them. He slipped out behind them and started listening in on their conversation in hopes of getting the password.

"Do you think he's in there? I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight if I see him in the common room. He's so hot."

"No, Blanche, it's 8:30; he bathes at 8:15 for an hour, you know that as well as I do."

"But what if he didn't go tonight, Meredith?"

"Don't be a dummy, Sloane, of course he went. He's a Malfoy!"

"Oh, just hearing you say that gives me shivers. Serpent's Sanctuary."

The wall rearranged itself into an opening and the girls climbed through, heading across the room. Harry followed them though and pressed up against the wall beside the door. Score two for Potter. One for the password and an extra for finding out when Malfoy was in the shower. He thought for a second, then awarded himself another point for not hurling listening to those girls. He didn't let himself think of the fact that he hadn't really wanted to hurl, more to strangle them and make them shut up. Well then, three points. A good start. He looked around the common room.

Student were starting to head off to bed it seemed. It was Thursday night, everyone went to bed early, especially the first years. He kept track of a couple and soon found that the girls were heading down the corridor to the left and boys to the right. Good, now he wouldn't set off the alarm. He picked his way across to the right hand corridor, keeping close to walls and chairs so as not to collide with anyone. The hall wound about a bit, then abruptly joined another. He peered up this new hall and soon saw a student coming. He pressed up against his wall and watched as she passed. So much for the girls' hall. He followed her down the hall by the doors, reading the signs.

'First Years' Green on silver sign. Across the hall, the same sign, silver on green. Must mean boys and girls.

'Second Years'

'Third Years'

'Fourth Years'

As he was making his way down, he noticed that there was a door at the end of the hall, but he couldn't read it.

'Fifth Years'

'Sixth Years'

'Seventh Years'

He was about to tuck himself in a corner and wait to see which was girls and which was boys when he finally realized what the door at the end said. 'Malfoy' Leave it to Malfoy to have his father get him a private room. He turned the knob. Locked. Pulling out his wand, he muttered "Alohamora." The door swung open under his touch. Apparently, he felt safe down here. Harry closed the door, locking it behind him.

The room was just a cut above average. The usual twin curtained bed was a double with gauzelike draperies. A chest of drawers against the wall bore a mirror and several toiletries. A bureau, assumably containing uniforms, was topped by an empty cage. In the corner was a perch, for Malfoy's eagle owl, Harry guessed. He glanced at his watch. 9:10. It had taken him a long time to get here. If Draco was prompt, he would be back in five minutes. He began looking for somewhere to hide. The corner created by the bureau and the wall looked promising, but something told him it was a bad idea. Instead, he leapt into the bureau itself, tucking down beneath the hanging uniforms. It was a good thing he did. Just as he pulled the door shut, Draco came in.

"Damn prefects think they have all of the rights. 'Get out of the shower, you're taking too long!' 'I'll deduct house points!' 'First Years first!' You would think they had authority!"

He heard a couple of drawers open and shut. The plush comforter was turned down. "I hate Thursdays." Draco climbed in, he thought. Then he saw the lights go out outside the bureau. They didn't stay off long. "My fairies!"

The lights came back, the covers rustled again, and bare feet slapped across the floor. The door slammed open. "Crabbe! Goyle!"

A few seconds later, larger feet approached.

"Where are my fairies?"

"I thought – "

"You thought? Crabbe, how many times have I told you not to think? Goyle, hit him."

Harry heard a smack as Crabbe took his punishment.

"See? Now Goyle knows his place. He never thinks; he just waits for me to tell him. If I didn't talk to him for three days, he'd stay right…all right, he'd wander up to the Great Hall and stuff his face, but he would keep doing that until I came and told him what to do! He would never resort to thinking! Out of my sight, both of you!"

He slammed the door and his feet slapped across the room, toward Harry. Was he going to open the bureau? He didn't. Instead, he went into that corner beside the bureau and practically knocked the whole thing over, probably getting the empty cage off the top. He heard the door rattle as Malfoy shook it.

"What am I going to do now? Light my wand all night? Damn Crabbe and his thinking." He tossed the cage onto the chest of drawers and headed back to the bed. Harry heard him climb back in and the lights went out again, but not all the way. There was still a faint glow. Harry waited some time to be sure Draco was asleep, then slipped out of the bureau.

He looked for the source of the glow. It was within the gauzy confines of the bed.

He walked up to the edge of the bed, but still didn't see the source of the light. It seemed Draco was in the way. Harry pulled the curtain back and saw that Draco was turned away from him, his shoulder-length hair, still damp, splayed out on the pillow. The boy's delicate cheekbones were just visible, as were his shoulders. It seemed he didn't wear a shirt to bed.

He walked around to the other side of the bed and pushed aside the curtain there. On the pillow before Draco's face was his wand, lit and illuminating the room. Harry tried to focus his mind on what that meant. He stared at Draco's peaceful face, lit by the wand. Why was the wand there? Why was it lit? Did he, perhaps, need it there? Why did he have fairies? Wait, was he, perhaps, afraid of the dark? Harry blinked. Draco Malfoy was afraid of the dark? He laughed to himself. This was probably the easiest dare that had been handed out. He had Malfoy's deepest, darkest secret.

No, wait, there was one piece left. Who did he most dread telling? He sighed. The answer couldn't be 'the population of Hogwarts,' there had to be someone in particular that Draco couldn't stand telling.

But now, it was getting late. Harry could see his watch reading 10:45. He needed to get back. He pulled the silvery green curtains back around the bed and snuck back out. It could wait for tomorrow.