A/N: So, with the new chapter six, the story is going in a completely different place…I think. Oh, this contains mild, and I mean mild, slashiness. I thought I would let my readers know, not that it really matters. If you got through the first three chapters, this will be nothing!

Disclaimer: Not my characters.


Draco's screams reverberated throughout the hospital wing. And they stopped abruptly. Draco was sitting upright in his bed, sweat pouring down his back. He tried to make a noise again, call out for help, but nothing came out. He was silenced yet again.

The sound of footsteps racing towards his room reminded him of his nightly visitor, but these were different. They were hurried.

The door opened quickly, and Harry rushed over to his side, a questioning look in his eye.

"Draco, were you just screaming?"

He nodded. His body was shaking. Draco reached over to grab what he needed to write. Harry muttered "lumos" and a soft glow enveloped them both.

I still cannot speak. I was dreaming and… Draco couldn't write anymore. He couldn't hold on to the quill. He was scared, so incredibly scared. He would close his eyes and all he would see was blinding green light. That light terrified him more than the monster in the dungeons. And he didn't have the slightest idea why.

Harry placed his hand on Draco's shoulder, but removed it when Draco flinched. Draco remembered it was Harry in his dream, not him. He shuddered at the way his dream self felt when he knew Harry's hands were on him. He felt sick that he was in the place where he was tortured, but he also felt something else when he knew the torture would come from Harry. That was what scared him.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. Draco felt ashamed of his thoughts. "I know what you've been through, and I should know better."

Draco shook his head, trying to convey that Harry had done nothing wrong. Harry smiled slightly; relief was obvious in his face. Draco reached out and grasped Harry's hand. Harry leaned in towards Draco, his lips only inches from Draco's. Draco felt his breath quicken. His face reddened slightly from embarrassment, and even a little shame. He wanted Harry to keep moving forward.

Hermione burst through the door, and Harry jerked back.

"Someone said Draco was screaming! Is everything okay?" Hermione was out of breath, as if she ran the whole way.

Draco nodded, his face turned to her. She must have realized she interrupted something because she let out a simple "oh" before exiting the room as quickly as she had entered.

Draco couldn't look Harry in the eye. He didn't know how to handle what he was feeling. He couldn't remember if he had ever felt anything like this before. He didn't even know if it was possible to want what he wanted without even knowing the person he wanted it from! He put his head in his hands: this was too much.

"Wanna talk about it?" Harry whispered gently.

Draco glared at him, picked up his quill and wrote, Talk?

Harry let out a small chuckle, "Okay, wanna write about it?"

Draco shook his head. He just wanted to forget. Not that he had that much to remember. He wanted to forget his nightmares and remember who he was. He raised his head and a single tear fell down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away, hoping that Harry wouldn't have seen it. Harry did.

Soon, more tears were failing. Harry sat on the bed next to Draco and took him in his arms as Draco silently began to sob once again. He hated not knowing who he was. Yes, he knew his name was Draco Malfoy. He knew who Voldemort was; he knew his father hated him. And he knew he needed to be punished, punished for some heinous crime that he didn't remember committing.

His tears stopped, but Harry didn't release him. Draco shuddered slightly as Harry's hands stroked his back. At his shiver, Harry held him tighter.

They were lying on Draco's bed, Harry at Draco's back, and for once, Draco was not sickened by the warmth he felt against him.

Draco didn't remember falling asleep, but it was dark when he woke. Harry was still asleep, his even breathing quiet and soft.

Draco eased himself out of Harry's arms, suddenly feeling restless. His dream, nightmare, was still vividly in his mind. He thought back to it. The tower…the tower looked like where he was! The stones were the same. If he could just find it, maybe he could find something about himself; perhaps even remember who he was.

Draco was smiling manically. He was going to find that tower, and that tower was going to give him answers.

One thing seemed to hinder Draco in his endeavor: the floor was cold and he couldn't find his socks. He couldn't remember even taking them off. Draco was about to begin searching for them, when Harry stirred. Draco quickly realized he was just stalling. For some reason, he didn't want Harry knowing what he was doing. He felt as if this were something he needed to do on his own.

He tiptoed out of the room, his bare feet not making any noise as he crept closer to the door, praying it would not squeak as he opened it. Luck was on his side.

He had no idea where he was going, so he decided to wander. He was told that his memory would come back abruptly; he just needed to be around things that were familiar. Apparently he had gone to school here, so the familiarity thing shouldn't have been easy. However, he did not recognize anything. He went up and down corridors, climbing staircases when he could. The tower was high, so it made sense to him to go up.

As he was climbing one such staircase, it jerked ever so slightly before it began to move. Draco held on for dear life. He had no idea what was happening and yet…. Vague and faint images began flashing before his mind. He had been on this moving staircase before.

The images kept coming, and while he thought he recognized them, they were a jumbled mess inside his head. The staircase stopped at a new landing, and Draco got off and began to walk, not paying attention to where he was going. He was concentrating too much on making sense of what he was seeing in his mind to pay attention to where his feet where leading him. His mind may not remember the tower, but his feet did, and they were bringing him to the place of his nightmares.


A/N: I know, it's a bit of a cliffhanger. However, there are only about two chapters left. Perhaps. I have a vague idea where this will go, it's just a matter of getting it there. Anyway. Like it? Hate it? Let me know!