Author's Notes: This will be my first Drarry fan fiction, and I must say that I am pretty excited. I am looking forward to reading any reviews you guys might leave for me! And if you have anything in mind that you think I ought to correct, PLEASE feel free to tell me! I hope you enjoy this first chapter, it's a bit short but it's only the beginning. There WILL be more to come.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the events that take place in this story. All characters and ideas belong to J.K. Rowling.

Summary: During sixth year, Harry notices some strange behavior from Draco, and sets out to find what is causing such a change in his normally arrogant manner. But in doing so, he may be endangering both his and Draco's lives.

Why is it so dark?

Harry opened his eyes. Well, he was pretty sure he opened his eyes. Nothing changed, it was still to dark to see.

Why does my scar hurt so much?

He reached to his bedside table to grab his wand, wishing to check the time, only to realize that there was no bedside table. In fact, he wasn't even in bed. And this definitely wasn't the carpet of his dorm. With a start, he bolted upright. He frantically groped his robes in search for his wand, which, to his relief, had been in his side pocket.

"Lumos."

The light from the tip of his wand allowed him to see 3 walls and a door, and there could be no more than 6 square feet of room in this place. . . .

What the hell?

His cupboard. Why was he in his cupboard? No, he couldn't be. There's no way he was back with the Dursleys, it's only the beginning of sixth year! He couldn't be there, right? Of course not, it didn't even look like the cupboard! Of course, he still felt a bit unsure, and looked for more evidence to what this place might be.

He looked around the area for any evidence of this being his cupboard. On the back wall, above his head, was a shelf. There were two boxes sitting on top of it, and inside were a few old looking text books, titled "Dark Magic Across The Centuries." Those would not be at the Dursleys.

He looked around the room, and vaguely remembered Dumbledore telling him about these storage rooms that had been planted all throughout Hogwarts.

The hidden storage closets worked in similar ways as the Room of Requirement; one is only accessible if you are specifically looking for it.

And how did he get in here, you may ask?

Harry hadn't the foggiest idea.

Harry recalled the events that led up to him to this closet, and remembered the row he had with Malloy.

Malfoy had walked past Harry in the empty corridor, not even bothering a glance at Harry.

His face was quite paler than it should have been and, though they desperately avoided Harry's, he could see that his eyes were a bit red.

He noted that Malfoy had been alone. It spiked great curiosity in him, seeing as Malfoy had almost never walked through the corridors unaccompanied by his two guards.

Alas, Malfoy caught his gaze and gave him a look of detached bitterness.

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy asked without stopping, and his tone held a bit more malice then usual.

Harry, not entirely sure himself what he did want, stared stupidly. His eyes really are red, Harry noted, before following along.

He hesitated, but asked reluctantly, "Where is Crabbe and Goyle? They never leave your side." Harry wasn't entirely sure what made him want to know, but he felt like this was important.

"Could you please explain to me how that is any of your business, Potter?" His voice came across Harry as strange. It was much more hoarse then should be.

"Besides, you don't have your two biggest fans walking beside you either," he added.

"Ron and Hermione are on a date, if you must know," which was true enough. They were out at The Three Broomsticks.

"I'm just curious is all," he said, referring back to Crabbe and Goyle, "because I've hardly ever seen you out from hiding under their robes."

Draco finally stopped walking, his shoulders squared and facing Harry. "I'm not in the mood for this, Potter. Not today." He shot Harry what was intended to be a sneer, but was really just an odd, pained twisting of the face.

"Right, of course. You probably have some important business you need to take care of with Voldemort," Draco flinched harder than ever at the name, looking horribly shaken. Draco was the only one able to fuel up so much anger in Harry so quickly, but Harry didn't even try to stop it. It was only when he was having a row with Malfoy that he seemed to really feel something. He got the impression that it was mutual, as Draco had been acting uncharacteristically aloof since the end of fifth year, only getting angered by Harry. "Say, what do you talk about at the Death Eater meetings? How many times do I come up?" Harry knew he was being ridiculous. He knew. But he just couldn't help it.

Draco's face grew purple with rage, but Harry didn't care. "Have you cast your first unforgivable on a helpless muggle or muggle-born yet?"

Draco looked as if he was about to lunge at Harry. Harry went on.

"Ah, I'm curious to know, Malfoy, when will you be getting the Dark Mark? I'm sure that'll be the best day of your whole life, is that right? Being a helpless slave to Voldemort must hold so much honour, doesn't it, Malfoy?"

"SHUT UP, POTTER!" Harry felt an odd combination of anger and satisfaction, and Harry loved it. Oh, what Hermione would say.

"Perhaps you've already gotten the Dark Mark? If that's the case, then y--"

Harry was interrupted when the tip of a wand jabbed at the side of his throat.

Harry's eyes widened with uncomprehending shock, but then resided to a venemous glare. If looks could kill. . .

"What are you going to do, Malfoy, kill me? Too bad you can't."

"YOU SHUT THE HELL UP, POT--" the sound of a chandelier crashing and Peeves howling delightedly caught Draco's attention, who turned towards the sound, and Harry took advantage of this, withdrawing his wand and placing it right in the center of the Slytherin's chest.

They were just about to launch into a full out duel when professor McGonnagal intervened.

"What on EARTH do you think you're DOING?" she shouted with exasperation and anger. Wands still pointed at each other, they simultaneously turned to look at her.

"PUT DOWN THOSE WANDS!" They both hastily obeyed, though Malfoy could not suppress the urge to shoot Harry a harsh glare.

"I come down here to control Peeves, and look at what I find! Two students about to kill each other! Each of you each of you will be deducted 50 points, though I hate taking points from my own house." She looked disapprovingly at Harry.

Draco looked smug.

"Yes, professor," said Harry.

"Detention for the rest of the week, starting tomorrow night, in my office, eight o'clock. Together." She shot them one last stern look before heading to the Gryffindire dormitories, motioning for Harry to follow along. McGonnagal turned towards her office halfway to the dorms, and when Harry reached the Fat Lady, his forehead seared with a splitting pain.

That was the last thing he remembered.

That really didn't explain how he'd ended up in the closet. . . .