AN/Warnings: Gimme gimme gimme a maaaaan after midnight! Take me through the darkness to the break of the day!

A song for you. :)

*is pelted with vegetables and told "GET ON WITH IT!"*

Hahah, that was my Monty Python moment.

In Response to the Reviewers:

I forgot to do this in the last chapter. ;-;

I love you all! *glomps* You guys make my day. It's always great to go to my Inbox and see something from the ff.net bot. I love him too.

Sailor Grape: Heheh, if Dracy fell in lurve with a dead Harry, would that be necrophilia? :O SCANDAL! Um…yes. I'm sad about poor Harry-kins too, but I needed an ridiculous reason for him to follow Dracy around. Killing off people is an excellent plot point. Dun worry, he'll have his revenge. It will be sweet, with a cherry on top.

Eheheh, glad you like the end-of-chapter-notes, they sort of take away all of the gloom and doom of the fic.

I hope J.K. never gave us a description of Blaise, because I've formed an amazingly pretty boy in my mind. Teehee. We love you, Blaisey. I think he should have been looked more into in the books, along with everyone else. Most of it just Harry angsting over his family. There was an improvement with Sevvie in the 5th, though.

Wow. That sounded amazingly anti-Harry.

Gabriella2: I checked your profile (it's a bad habit of mine. I'm like a stalker or something), and from piecing together what I could (AKA: my slightly-okay French and sucky Spanish skills, along with 2 years of not paying attention of Latin), I realized you liked Draco/Blaise (Bwhaha. I think I might like that now too. Remind me to write one some time. Would be my first contradicting pairing), anyway, I hope you like the chapter. :D

Kaaera, crazy-lil-nae-nae, Yasmin, wanderingwolf and Agrona Taranis: Thank you all so much for reviewing! It's always great to know that people like my writing. I'm surprised I haven't been flamed yet. Heh.

Anyways, here's another chapter for the bandwagon. Hope you enjoy.

Fais de Beaux Rê ves [Sweet Dreams] : Living Corpse

Draco Malfoy collapsed onto his bed, and stared at the silver stone ceiling above him.

Blaise wandered in after, sitting down next to the blonde.

"Draco, you're never tired. What, been seeing the dead?"

"Just hearing them."

Blaise smirked, and tilted his head. He must be Potter's, then.

"Oh, alright then. Snape's gonna be up here in five to give us our annual Slytherin pep rally. Don't be late, even if you are a prefect, he'll have your head."

"Mm."

Blaise smiled at the now spacing-out boy still lying on his bed, and rolled his shoulders. He poked Draco's forehead, and walked out.

Draco wandered into the Common Room, where all of the first years had already gathered. Most of the second years were here now, along with a handful of people from the other years.

Snape stood by the entrance, waiting a few more minutes for the missing Slytherins. If you weren't at the Slytherin first day meeting, you might as well come with your own gold plate for you head.

They waited for another ten minutes, with the last people sneaking in, Snape coughed. The Common Room fell silent, and the Potions professor stepped forward, into the middle of the Slytherins who now circled him. He appraised then with raised eyebrows, counting and memorizing the faces of those who were here. Some of the sevenths half-joked that he had a photographic memory.

"Alright then, listen up, Slytherin. Once again, our Prefects are Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson."

A few rebellious sixth year boys burst into applause, with shouts of 'Yeah Malfoy!'. The blonde smirked at the cries of his classmates of now six years, but Snape resorted to glaring. Said rebellion was instantly crushed.

"Here are the statistics on all of the other Houses. With Hufflepuff still all teary eyed about Diggory," Groans and retching noises followed. Most of the mentioned House still got sappy when he was mentioned. "They'll be too miserable to be any competition. Ravenclaw aren't aggressive enough to be of any concern. As for Gryffindor, since our hero Potter is de-" Snape's eyes dark chocolate eyes flickered towards the blonde. "Deported, we might as well engrave our names onto House Cup."

Cheers, whistles and roars for total domination of Hogwarts once more coursed through their green and silver veins, and was raised up in their almost victorious voices. They could smell victory like a snake could smell fear.

Snape nodded, mock-bowed, and left the Common Room.

Blaise, who stood next to Draco, slung his arm around the boy's shoulders, grinning.

"It'll be sweet, won't it, Draco? To have that House Cup back inside Slytherin walls? Damn, it's been collecting dust in the Gryffindor Common Room for five years now." The dark-haired boy nodded towards the display case, which was currently filled with last year's Slytherin achievements. The large space that had once occupied the huge trophy that was the House Cup was empty, dust bunnies had made it their home instead.

Draco's lips twitched into a smile, and he nodded.

"Yeah. It'll be great."

Harry was still sitting in Malfoy's room. Or rather, the one he shared with Blaise (the thought of him was still bugging him), Crabbe and Goyle.

"Damn, I don't remember where I put that 'effing book." He thought aloud.

He found the now familiar leather cover of the book against his palm moments later. To his surprise, there was a bookmark in it, that lead to a interesting section he must have skipped.

Angel Ranks

Angels can be classified, very simply, into three categories:

Seraphim: The lowest Angel class. Angels-In-Training, newly appointed Guardian Angels, etc. All Angels start out as this class, with the smallest wings. Limited power, cannot interact with anything that has direct effect on the Waking World at any time. For these Angels, limited Dream Gazing and interaction with their mortal.

Virtues: Second-highest Angel class. Medium-sized wings, as well as a more regal appearance. The majority of all existing Angels are this class. They can appear to the Waking World for, at the lowest level, an hour to the longest, a day. For any time length, energy must be conserved before and after. They are allowed to enter any Dreamer's World. Some interaction with objects, etc. that directly affects the Waking World is allowed.

Archangels: The highest of all Angels, they have a semi-permanent place in the Waking World. They may choose to abandon the Waking World and be demoted to Seraphim. Their wingspan is often quite spectacular, and they are often granted great magical ability. Many Arch-Angels have the gift of premonition, some stronger than others. They serve as guides in the Waking World, and do not need to drain power to be visible to mortals. Unlimited access to mortal's minds (Waking or Dreaming), but they will be punished if their power is abused.

Sub-Classes

All Angels are, at the simplest, classified into three, but there are some sub-classes within these.

Cupids: These Angels are the ones who inflict emotion onto all mortals and immortals. Contrary to popular belief, they also deal with feelings other than love.

Angels-In-Training: These Angels are the ones who are working towards becoming Archangels. They may be of any class, except Fallen.

Guardian Angels: Perhaps over-dramatized as ever-watching Guardians, these Angels are assigned a mortal to watch over. The power to be heard by their mortal is one granted only to these Angels, albeit Arch-Angels.

Fallen Angels: These Angels are instantly recognizable by their out-of-the-ordinary wings. They may be a different color, broken, ripped off or tattered. They have been marked as such to show that they have defiled the word 'Angel', by abusing their power or another disobedience (turn to the The Fallen for more information). For serious cases, their outward appearance to the Waking World may have been changed. While Fallen Angels are eternally shamed, they maintain the main rank they had reached before they had fallen.

It may also be noted that while Seraphim, Virtue and Arch-Angel are widely accepted the three main classes, the entire Angel hierarchy is, as follows, from lowest to highest;

Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominion, Virtues, The Powers, Principalities, Archangels.

Harry's mind was a bit fuzzy from receiving so much information, but he blinked, and it soon sorted itself out. He snapped the book shut with one hand, just when the boy he had been shadowing for a few months walked back into the room.

Draco looked around suspiciously, before closing the door.

What in God's name is he doing? The Angel was now curious, as the blonde sat down on his bed, and looked around the room with the same look on his face.

Quite a few thoughts ran through the post mortem Harry Potter, and they should not be recorded.

However, the outcome of such actions was soon made clear.

Much to Harry Potter's delight, and even though he was suddenly struck with an almost nauseating feeling, he watched as Draco Malfoy blushed.

Blushed, flushed, his face was 'effing strawberry pink.

Harry burst into laughter, even though he didn't know why the blonde was blushing.

"Shut the hell up, Potter!" He almost roared.

"I'll stop when you tell me why you're bright pink."

"I just realized you saw me naked that day."

Only, Harry only laughed louder, until his sides hurt, and his vision was blurred. Grasping at his face to take off his glasses, he realized he didn't have them anymore, and rubbed his eyes.

"You are a riot, Malfoy."

Halloween came as quickly as it left, but it held a few good memories.

Pansy and Blaise had somehow managed to persuade Draco to go to the Halloween Ball with them, along with Crabbe and Goyle (who were rather convincingly dressed as Ernie and Bert from that Muggle TV show, Sesame Street). The Slytherin trio went as Christine, Raoul and the Phantom from The Phantom of the Opera. Except all but one of them was cross dressing.

Blaise had somehow used circular logic to force Pansy into letting him be Christine, which left Pansy to be Raoul, as they had already decided Draco was going to be the Phantom.

Pansy grinned as Blaise waltzed down the stairs in an old-fashioned dress French dress he had ordered. His ebony hair was down, but the hair on the sides of his head was tied back in ribbons. When he sat down on the Common Room couch, Pansy hovered over him with her lipstick.

"Damn, this corset is killing me. I'm wearing like, five layers." The boy moaned, rolling his shoulders. Draco had noticed that ever since the second year, it had become a habit of his.

"You're such a tart, Blaise." Pansy giggled, as Blaise batted his eyelashes and puckered his lips.

This brought a smirk from their blonde accomplice, who was wearing a black suit with a high-collared cape, and half white mask. Pansy had even charmed the half that was covered to look grotesquely burned if anyone tried to take it off.

Pansy was in a black suit as well, but it was much tighter-fitting and complimented Blaise's crimson dress. She also had a bowtie, and a top hat and cane.

"Blaise, you look gorgeous!" Pansy admired her handiwork, and gave Blaise a mirror.

Blaise squealed in approval, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Ooh! Pansy, you're a genius! Draco, will you dance with me?" The boy, who now looked disturbingly akin to a pretty girl instead of a pretty boy, batted his eyelashes again.

Draco sighed, and shrugged, before dawning a dark smile.

"If that is what you wish, my dear Christine."

Draco had fond memories of going to see The Phantom of the Opera in London. His Father actually supported such events (something about being it a good way to become more cultured), and his Mother had no qualms about it. He had simply bought tickets, and told Blaise and Pansy to meet him there.

Blaise giggled, and awkwardly walked over to Draco, before linking arms with him.

Draco raised his eyebrows, and Blaise shrugged.

"High heels." He lifted the bottom of his dress to reveal two scarlet ladies' shoes.

"I can't believe I'm going to the Masquerade Dance with a transvestite." Draco thought aloud.

"S'better than going with Pansy."

"True."

Blaise laughed and stumbled towards the exit (dragging Draco along as well) while Pansy chased after them, threatening to give them both concussions.

The whole time, Harry watched with a funny smile on his face.

One night cold, in late November, Draco was jolted out of sleep by the sound of muffled sobbing.

He knew the sound of Blaise's crying from the time he had gashed open his forehead while flying. Crabbe and Goyle mostly grunted and whimpered, so it couldn't have been them.

Draco got out of bed, and walked down to the Common Room, his feet padding quietly against stone.

"Lumos." He whispered, and he was granted light. The cries got louder as he walked, and they sent shivers up his spine.

The voice sounded strangely familiar - as if from a supposedly forgotten memory.

He was out of the Common Room, but whoever was crying was in the Dungeons, because the ones he heard were echoes.

Draco reached an ancient, tall oak door, and ran his hand down it. It seemed to have some strange inscription on it, a message of some sort. For one reason or another, Draco could understand it.

Spilled blood shall grant you REDEMPTION.

If Angels bleed, do Demons cry?

Shrugging it off as one of Hogwart's many tricks, Draco found the door unresisting, neither locked nor bolted.

He eased it open, but the door still released a groan that echoed down the damp stone halls. Wincing, he peered inside.

It was pitch black, except for one figure that illuminated the darkness.

A figure was on his knees on the floor, his hands clutching his head, as if he had a indescribable headache. He was bent over, and stared at the ground with unfocused eyes.

Pure, translucent wings rose from his shoulder blades, and Draco watched in fascinated horror as blood dripped from his upper left chest. The Angel was sobbing, crying his heart out to an unseen stranger. Draco was frozen on the spot - he had never seen such a miserable, beautiful, heart wrenching thing.

But when the Angel turned his head to stare directly at Draco, the blonde forgot how to breathe.

A tear-stained pale face, wild black hair, bruised red lips, blood on his hands, bitten nails.

Wide, fearful emerald eyes.

Silver.

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End of Chapter Notes: Ahah! It all makes sense now, doesn't it?

I have no idea what you just read means. I'm writing this totally without a structured plan (is there such a thing as improvinizational fiction?), except for a few ideas I know I have to include.

BIG DECISION MAKING TIME! Yes, I'd like to know which song I should insert first (I have specific scene in mind that I want to write); Happy Christmas (War Is Over) by John Lennon or Light the Fire Within, sung by Leann Rimes (It's the song she sang at the Olympics). I'll do both eventually, so don't complain or I'll send my rabid snowmen after you.

I'd also like to thank Google for helping me out with the Angel ranks. They're actually the ones mentioned in the Bible. :X I also don't own The Phantom of the Opera, but I loved it when I went to see it.

Oh my God, I had so much fun with Blaise (I'm just a sweet transvestite!). Sorry if this is a bit too long, I got a bit out of control with the Halloween thing. It was so fun to write, though. I'll definitely get to Christmas by the next chapter.

Things to keep in mind and/or look forward to:

-CHRISTYMAS! (It's a bit late, I know. Deal with it.)

-Maybe even Valentine's Day? Hmm…

-Lucius, Narcissa, and one whole big misunderstanding. (This'll eventually be a main plot point, but maybe not in the next chapter. Just remember - not everything is as it seems.) This may end up as a mystery…dun dun dun…who killed Harry?

-WTF? [/internet_slang_whore] No one in the U.S. know who Busted are. It screams blasphemy, people. Uh, I'm not exactly a Busted fangirl, but some of their songs are fun.

I took a trip to the year 3000, this song has gone multi-platinum, everybody bought our seventh album, it has outsold Michael Jackson…

-Sorry about that.

-Harry gets a promotion, but no raise. Chaos ensues.

-Draco just might believe Harry really is dead when…wait, I don't know either. But Draco will definitely start to realize that The Boy-Who-Lived-Until-That-Crazy-Fangirl-Killed-Him-Off is deceased. Dead. Pushing up daisies. Has bought the farm. Cashed in his chips. Has kicked the can. Es mort. Etc, etc, etc

-I swear, this time - Cats.

-Grabbed by the Ghoulies! Rare, come back…all is forgiven! Um…I'm a Nintendo fangirl. Anyways, a few things concerning ghosts.

I've got to go now, I'm meeting my friends for a movie-fest. Stay healthy and all of that good-will stuff. Don't trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain!