Author's Notes: Hey, thanks for all zee reviews. Much appreciated. Yeah, so as I've already said I'm not basing this on the fifth book anymore. It really would be boring. Also I'm only going to focus on Draco and Harry. I'm not going to bother going through the day, cuz it would be boring and I really don't want to write it. So if something important happens during the day I'll make a point to mention it or have a flashback. So I suppose that's about it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its subsidiaries (does that make sense?)

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******Harry's POV******

Bloody Hell.

I meandered down the empty hallway. My footsteps were slow and echoed in the cavernous hall. Had this hallway always been this big? I had never noticed the sheer size of it before, nor the intricate detail on the statues. It was really an amazing sight. I had stopped, just gazing at the grim beauty. I heard a noise behind me and jumped, looking around wildly. I stood on edge, listening carefully. There it was again! It was coming closer...

            I was standing stalk still, hand poised to grasp my wand. My heart was pounding so loud I swear it was echoing in the hall. The sound was much closer now, and I managed to identify the sound: footsteps, and laughter. I dropped my hand, sighing deeply and shaking my head. Calm down Harry. You're really jumpy today! It was true, I was unnaturally jumpy. Everything was freaking me out, like this hallway. I've been down this hallway practically every day of my life, but now as I passed down it I found myself quite terrified of it. Could it be because of Defense against the Dark Arts? I thought back to that class.

#####Flashback#####

My fellow Gryffindors and I were waiting outside the Dark Arts room, talking amoung ourselves. The day had started with promise but my anxieties grew every time I glanced at Hermione. The same fear I had seen the previous day was back. She was nervous about something, and I could only guess that it was because of the new DA teacher, Professor Lestair. I couldn't blame her though. I had only glimpsed him briefly during the feast but I had noticed something dodgy about him. His complexion was really unnaturally pale, but there was a mesmerizing beauty about him.

            I really noticed this 'beauty' when the door of the class opened and a stark-white face peeped out. There was a collective intake of breath from Gryffindor house, all stared at the man. His eyes roamed through the crowd until his eyes rested on me. I was frozen, completely incapable of movement. I couldn't even manage a gasp. He had cold, pitch black eyes that seemed to pierce your very soul. He resembled a statue; beautiful, perfectly shaped, but without life. Only his eyes were animated. The corner of his mouth twitched, creating not even the slightest wrinkle in his smooth face.

            "Come in."

            We did as he commanded without a word. We were all mesmerized by his voice. I found myself walking into the room before I even realized I was moving. The room was dark, illuminated solely by candles. The windows were boarded up, thus allowing no natural light to pass. I watched the tall silhouette of my professor stride to his desk, sitting down gracefully. We all stood dumbly in the class, waiting for instructions as if we didn't know ourselves what to do. The same twitch in the corner of his mouth.

            "Sit down."

            We found our seats silently, in a trance. I was staring at him, trying to understand his power. He had controlled us so easily; no potions or spells involved. What was it about him that made him so alluring and irresistible? I watched as he surveyed the room, taking in all that he saw with a keen attentiveness. Then his gaze fell on me.

            Our eyes met and for a moment it seemed that the world disappeared and time ceased to exist. I was lost in his eyes, their absolute darkness. But his eyes were on me for no more than a few seconds and his gaze moved on to someone else. I exhaled, realizing that I hadn't been breathing.

            The rest of the class was a blur. Time didn't go quickly, in fact, it didn't seem to pass at all! And yet class was over before I knew it. Gryffindor filed out of the class in complete and utter silence, too stunned to say even a word. The noise outside the class was deafening compared to the quiet we had just experienced.

            "Close the door behind you," came his deep and melodic voice from inside the class. I turned to face him and saw that he was almost completely hidden in the shadows; only his glimmering face revealed his location.

            "Good-bye, Mr. Potter."

            I jumped slightly, but quickly turned and vacated the class, closing the door with a slam behind me. I found myself running away from the room, but from what I was running I didn't know. I was seriously disturbed, as was everyone else.

#####End of Flashback#####

I shivered, recalling that memory. Even now I could easily remember every detail of his perfect face, even his eyes held the same potency. I shook my head, pushing the image away. He must be the reason I'm uneasy, I thought. There was no other explanation. But nonetheless, I still felt I was going insane.

            The silence of the hall was broken by the beeping of my watch. 8:00. Oh shit! I'm late for my detention! I ran down the hall, practically flew down the steps and crashed into the door, unable to stop myself at the speed I was going. I opened the door and slipped inside, scanning the room for the ominous presence that was –

            "Mr. Potter, you're late."

            I stopped, turning my head to the voice: Snape. He was standing half in the shadows; his face and the faint outline of his body the only things visible. I thought of the Lestair standing in the shadows as Snape was now doing. But unlike Lestair, Snape was nowhere near as magnificent. As I thought of this, Snape was becoming increasingly more impatient. I opened my mouth, trying to formulate an excuse. But Snape cut me off; he had already fabricated the reason for my being late. It pretty much involved me being irresponsible and a slacker.

            The next two hours in that room was Hell like I've never experienced before. I had to clean the entire potions room from top to bottom. This is fucking insane! I thought angrily, trying to rub the grime off a rather large cauldron. It's the beginning of the year and everything is so damned dirty! When was the last time this cauldron was cleaned? I growled, trying to get the last of the dirt off. Sighing, I dropped the cloth in the pot and slumping over it. Does nothing ever get clean?

            Snape was watching everything I did, a cruel smirk on his ugly face. He stood behind me, making sure I did everything just right, breathing down my neck. It was most annoying. I was so relieved when he finally let me go. I bounded out of the room as fast as my tired legs would allow (which wasn't very fast).

            I walked sluggishly towards Gryffindor house, afraid that I wasn't going to make it. My shoulders were slumped and I didn't look up when I walked, letting my feet guide me.

"Mr. Potter?"

            I jumped, whirling around to face the voice. It was Lestair. I tried to avert my gaze but found myself unable to do so. I had once more fallen under his spell and I couldn't fight it. He came towards me, feet gliding along the floor. He didn't rise and fall with his footsteps like people do when they walk, but kept perfectly level. He stood before me, looking deep into my eyes. I felt like he could read my thoughts, and it frightened me. He was staring at me through his dark, thoughtful eyes.

            I was suddenly very tired and I collapsed into his arms. He's so cold... I remained motionless in his arms, listening to the beating of his heart.

            "You shouldn't be out this late," I heard him mutter, almost inaudibly. I mouthed the words 'I know', but didn't move. I felt myself being lifted off the ground and I closed my eyes. When I opened them I was in my bed, Lestair standing over me. His lips didn't move, but I heard his voice inside my head.

            Go to sleep and forget this night.

******Draco's POV******

What the fuck just happened? I stared dumbly at the spot where I had just seen Potter and Lestair. They had just vanished, without a trace. I couldn't believe it. Nobody just vanishes, no matter who you are. And what the hell was with Lestair? He was looking at Potter as if he was in love with him! But how old was he? Thirty, at least. Or maybe not...

            There was something weird about that guy. His face was absolutely flawless. No wrinkles or lines on his face. It was perfectly smooth, like marble. He looked so young, but at the same time so very old. I think it's his eyes that give him an ancient look. I didn't like Lestair, not at all. He was really creepy, and his eyes mesmerized you. But how? I couldn't explain it. I hated him. He had ruined my plan to make peace with Potter and thus set my plans into motion. I growled, but resolved to not let this misfortune get to me. I'd win Potter over, no problem. And I'd get to the bottom of Lestair's strange powers. There had to be a logical explanation for it.

            I turned, heading to Slytherin house when WHAM! I walked right into Lestair. I backed away in anger and fear. How dare he sneak up on me! And how did he do it? I had a keen sense of hearing, so how had he managed to... Lestair laughed.

            "You're out passed your bedtime, little one," he said, smirking.

            I snarled. I didn't like being treated like a child. "Listen, you, my father -"

            "Can't do anything to help you," he finished.

            He walked menacingly towards me, lips curved into a malevolent smirk. I backed away, terrified. I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out. I was paralyzed with fright. He was now a mere foot from me. His hand reached out and grabbed my shirt, pulling me towards him. I was against his chest now, his arm holding me tightly to him, dashing any thoughts I may have had about escape. He traced his free hand up my spine. I shivered. The hand continued its ascent up my neck and into my hair, grabbing a clump of it with ice cold fingers. I gasped. He's freezing! How can someone be this bloody cold?

            He gently pulled my hair so that our eyes met. I saw a strange gleam in his eyes, chilling me to the bone. Then it dawned on me. I knew how this guy had such strange powers. He was a-

He smiled, as if reading my mind.

            "Well done, little boy. You're brighter than I thought," he sneered, grinning maliciously.

            I stared at him, seeing my own death in his eyes. He was going to kill me. I started shaking, eyes misting over with tears. I closed them. He laughed, leaning in, lips parting as he came closer to my neck...

            He stopped. I didn't understand why. I opened my eyes and saw him looking down the hallway at something. I twisted around to see what he was looking at, but I couldn't find it. When I turned my gaze back to him he was snarling. He glared at me.

            "You lucky bastard," he spat. Releasing me, Lestair backed away, eyes still on me. I heard his voice in my head.

            You will forget.

I blinked. I was standing in an empty hallway, but how did I get here? I glanced around. What in the –

            I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye. It was Ms. Norris. Oh shit. We stared at each other for a moment and then she ran back around the corner from whence she came. I ran faster than I've ever ran before to my dorm, hoping to reach my destination before Filch caught up with me.

            I rounded a corner, jumped down a flight of stairs and ran down a long hallway. The entrance to the dorm was in sight now. I screamed out the password. The door swung opened and I ran through, collapsing in a chair beside the fire, breathing heavily. I was asleep in moments.

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End Notes: So that's that chapter. Hope you enjoyed it but I didn't spend a long time on it. I read it through once, so there are probably a lot of mistakes. Please review.

BTW: Lestair is not a pedophile, if you're thinking that. I've been reading a lot of Anne Rice lately and I think it's sort of reflecting on my writing. Not much, but I am thinking of her books while I'm writing this.

BTW: Please, please review.