A/N: Okay, my next three chapters are going to be short, but for the sole purpose of dragging out this story. They're going to come close together though, because I have a vague idea of what I want to put in them. But even if I didn't want to drag out the story, because of these TWO measly reviews, you'd get a short chapter anyway. Thanks a bunch to the people who reviewed.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Thanks J.K. Rowling.

Malefacent: Yay, my precious ((Gollum))...well in the next chapter I'm going to tell you how that pissy Lucius gets in! ;-) be patient...

BakuMarik Fan: Oooh, your review just makes me squeal with happiness! Kudos!

Harry POV

Next morning:

Well I suppose that went well. I've always wanted to end a conversation with something that made the other person totally flustered, I thought.

I was bored to tears with the lesson I was in, Transfiguration, after my electrifying chat with Draco. I couldn't stop thinking about it. But I dutifully took notes, with the intention of giving them to Ron, who had almost cried when someone mentioned the NEWTS.

I suppose he can help me get back into Quidditch, I thought dazedly as I traced the diagram of the newer and more complicated version of "swish and flick" that Professor Flitwick had yet to teach us.

"Alright class, I think just perfecting the new motions will be enough of a chore, so have a pleasant day," Professor McGonagall intoned.

I got up from my chair, putting the diagram of the new movement on top of my books so I could study it as I went to my next class.

"Ah, wait, Mr. Potter." McGonagall said with a slightly malevolent smile.

I shuffled back to her expectantly. "Yes?"

"You remember just a bit ago Mr. Malfoy and you missed a detention?" she said slowly, as if I really didn't remember.

"Yes...oh." I replied. I sighed, then continued, "What are we going to be doing?"

Her smile returned, and I was reminded of Umbridge when she had a dreadfully wretched rule to instate. "You're going to be cleaning the bathrooms you were told to clean the previous time."

I gaped at her. "But...have people been using them? Were they cleaned out by someone else?"

"No, no one else has cleaned them. You have to do what you were originally told to do, in addition to scouring out what the people that have used it since then left behind."

My jaw dropped. "But...eew!"

"And I hope you learn your lesson!" she said sternly, walking back to her respective desk to organize homework assignments that they had recently turned in.

I groaned, not ready to accept the atrocious job. "What did Malfoy say when you told him?"

"That's partly why I haven't told you to get out of my room yet." She waved her hand around the classroom, "He didn't come in today. I'm sure everyone realized how peaceful the class was. So I need you to get him at around 8 o' clock, and bring him down here. The password today is "sangre"; it will be changed tomorrow, so don't get any ideas. Oh, and tell him to bring yesterday's homework with him along with an explanation for his absence."

"Um, fine." I walked out of the room to my next class, Potions, to find the hallways completely deserted. Perfect. I'd be late.

The bell rang, as I knew it would, and I sulked into the room, accepting the dock of five Gryffindor Points. The potion assigned to us was incredibly simple—I was sure we had done it in our fifth year at least. Why was he reviewing? Why now, when we need every bit of new potion knowledge we could get?

Hermione too seemed disturbed by this lesson repeat. After several minutes, she finished the potion. She gave Gryffindor a well-needed amount of fifteen points for being the first to remember the potion and turn it in, though Snape looked wistfully around to see if anyone from his own House had finished. She was so restless, combined with her constant anxiety over her relationship and the necessity of knowing every potion available for her NEWTS that she started to chew on her nails. Finally she couldn't take it anymore.

She timidly raised her hand. Snape ignored it. She raised it higher. Still he looked over it. She became bold with her fury over his injustice, and in the silence, started snapping her fingers in the air. No way he could just pretend everyone had not stopped his or her work to stare at Hermione.

Snape sighed, then glared at Hermione, "What is it, Ms. Granger?"

She huffed for a few moments, before answering, "I want to know why you're having us go over this quite simple potion, when we are about to have our NEWTS; when we need every scrap of new information we can get! Why? As a teacher, what right do you have to deprive us of—"

Snape held up a hand. "The reason we are not doing the complicated potion as I had originally planned, is that we are missing a student."

Hermione looked annoyed and slumped in her seat. I sat forward in mine, and said, "The only person missing is a Slytherin. If it were a Gryffindor missing on a day you had planned to do something complicated, you would not have even had to think about saving it. And just let that person fall behind!" By the end, I was yelling.

"Potter...shut up. And a point off Gryffindor. Back to studying." He drawled. I grumbled and mumbled in protest, but to protect the few remaining House Points, I vowed to stay quiet the rest of the class. I did.

In fact, all of my classes were quiet. I didn't fight with anyone, or talk, or joke, and I did my work. I felt inexplicably bored, somehow, but at the same time I was totally ready to just do my work and sit there.

And Draco was not in any of them. I had no idea what he was doing but...I was worried. He didn't even show up for Lunch. I myself could not bring myself to eat anything, my mind drifting back towards the impending terror of my assigned detention. I headed to the library to check out some recently acquired Quidditch books. The newest information and techniques could definitely improve my chances of being made the Seeker again. On my way to the library, I passed the bathroom I would, at the end of the day, be partner-scrubbing with Draco. Even from across the hall, the boys' bathroom truly reeked of old feces and urine. It was disturbing that no one had done anything about it yet. Even for a detention, this was extreme. But I held my breath and rushed past the room.

I wasn't even sure why I felt the burning desire to be part of my House's team spirit again, but something that had died within me was unsettled in its coffin now.

I spent my free hour reading The Latest Quidditch Trends. I felt sufficient in Quidditch once again, not afraid to ask Ron for assistance, and somehow the bathroom did not stink as much the second time. I tried not to gape as I saw a teary-eyed and embarrassed first year scuttling out of the room. Poor thing probably couldn't hold it in. I shivered with disgust at the mere thought of having to use that toilet, then sobered myself with the thought that I'd be spending quite a bit more time washing the room.

In any case, the day ended with only an hour or two's worth of homework. More often than not, the homework could end up taking up to five hours or more. Days, sometimes.

At seven-thirty, I decided I couldn't put it off any longer. In an attempt to get back my Quidditch physique, I did not simply stroll to the Slytherin Chamber, I jogged, stopping occasionally to catch my breath or do some jumping-jacks.

I stopped in front of the entrance, trying to regain my composure, and hoping I was not sweating too much or too noticeably. How embarrassing, walking in on Draco sweaty and telling him we had to scrub filthy toilets only the evilest being in Hell would dare describe the smell of. (A/N: hey, I described it:Guess that makes you an evil being in Hell:)

Taking a deep breath, I growled "sangre" and slithered into the room. Ignoring the stares, whispers, threats, and people who stood up with their wands in hand, I held my chin up and walked leisurely into the room which I remembered to be Draco's. "Hey!" the shout came from across the room from a black girl with eyes like fire. "Don't go in there. He's been snapping at us all day. You goin' to get yourself hexed into oblivion."

Wondering if there were Slytherins with hearts, I replied, "Thanks. But I'm here on business." And finished my ascent into Draco's room.

I fumbled with the door, muttering "alohomora" and barging inside. I shouted Expelliarmus before he got up from his lethargic mood and sleepy position on his bed. His wand flew to the other side of the room. I smiled happily.

"Up and at 'em. Time for detention-y with McGonagall-y, wittle baby." I said, nearing him and pulling at his cheeks in a most annoying fashion.

That got him up—he smacked he hard against the head. "Are you serious? Detention? What do we have to do? Shit, I have to get dressed." And indeed he did. He was still in his black silk pajamas emblazoned with a heart with a triangle in it on the shoulder of the shirt and the bottom of the pants.

He scowled, then said, "Stay..." and was off to the bathroom with some clothes and a comb.

I took this grand opportunity to snoop around his room. I found a dresser by his bed that differed enough from the bureaus of the other boy's that I could tell it was brought from home. I found a miniature desk on the other side of his bed, a beautiful mahogany base with a satin finish. His bed was, though not made, complete with a set of matching Slytherin bed sheets, comforter, and pillowcases.

Most of his side of the room was neat, with a few things strewn on the hardwood floor. However, I noticed underneath his desk a large scroll of the finest quality paper I'd ever seen. I had had no idea that good-quality paper existed. It was all trees to me.

Intrigued, but glancing cautiously at the bathroom, where under the door I could see through the gap, that Draco was moving around rapidly, I pulled the parchment from its crumpled position in the shadows of the niche of the desk.

I flattened it out and looked at the first page. The title was Pallaton's Aid. The first sentence on the page read, "For five hundred years, the Pallaton family has been the source of better sleep, a better day, and a better life."

Forgetting my worry that Draco would catch me prying around his room, because I was too curious what Draco had purchased, I skimmed the first two pages, which were simply an introduction, promoting Pallaton, and Contacts.

The first useful page explained the many artifacts that the Pallaton family had created, and stated their brief summary. The second interesting page proved much more informative.

It was entitled Dream Catcher. That answered my initial question, what had Draco bought. But this brought on a whole new onslaught of questions—why did Draco need one? The summary said "to lock up bad memories that haunt your dreams". What sort of memories did Draco have? How long has he had one? Who got it for him? And so on.

I also wondered where his dream catcher was residing. This device looked tremendously useful and expensive, so it was highly doubtful that he had simply tucked it away.

Quickly looking in the corners of the four-poster, bed, desk, etc. I discovered the elegant dream catcher was hidden in a crevice of the curtain of the four-poster. Not very well hidden, but I didn't think it was likely that anyone was looking for it.

I hurried back to the scroll, wondering how this could possibly take up so many pages.

I turned to the next page, and it read at the top Retrieving Dreams. This definitely looked like it was the sort of complicated thing that could take up ten pages. I moved my eyes along the page and read, "Though the use of this dream catcher is essentially to remove horrendous things from your subconscious mind, at some point it may be crucial or wanted to retrieve these dreams. To do so, follow the instructions on the next..."

I would have kept reading, except that Draco shouted from the bathroom, "No, I'm not taking a shit!" I shoved the paper into my robes and sat innocently on his bed as he walked out. "But my hair had to be beautiful..." and he winked coyly at me.

"You have to get your Transfiguration homework from last night." He nodded and walked over to his desk, pulling out an essay on some more of that fancy paper. I was afraid that he would notice that the scroll from Pallaton's was missing. Luck had it, he didn't even glance down.

He gestured for me to follow, and after putting on his most insolent face, walked into his Common Room. Walking next to him, I saw him glare at several people. I wasn't sure he was angry, or even hated them; I think he just glared at them for sport.

We sulked out of the room, and all of a sudden Draco had a cheery disposition. "So, what's our detention?"

I couldn't bear to burst his bubble, and I think Professor McGonagall deserved to see the terrified look on Draco's face when he learned their fate, so I just chuckled and said, "You'll see."

He appeared satisfied with that answer, but became silent. It was not an unpleasant quiet, but I had to ask, "Why weren't you in class today?"

So much for not bursting his bubble. His face contorted slightly in anger and fear, and with his freakishly characteristic smirk, he said, "I didn't feel like going."

My thoughts went back to the dream catcher, wondering what sorts of things were magically stored inside. And also wondering if one of the things that was destined to be locked inside the eerie chamber had happened earlier that day.

A/N: Don't get angry with me if the schedule has changed a bunch in the last chapters...I made an actual schedule for Harry and Draco now, so no worries! I have such issues giving you guys cliffies. Splendid, aren't I? Review, and feed my ego!