AN: I planned to update It's Justa Nightmare over three weeks ago but the fanfiction admin team decided to freeze my account and therefore I couldn't update. So for future reference read my personal bio page and I will tell you when my account is frozen. If it is frozen again you can always read a new chapter on my website.

Enjoy and Review!


The afternoon came all too soon and Harry sat on his bed contemplating his new clothes. They were modest dress robes, green with a silver trim. There was also a matching cloak which trailed along the floor when he tried it one. The house elf had assured him it was perfectly normal but now he was not so sure.

Supposing he tripped on the hem while at the ball? Would the other guests laugh at him? He hoped not and a clear yet confusing memory of moldy lace floated into him mind.

"Mum, you've given me Ginny's new dress,"

"I had to buy your second hand so there wasn't much choice,"

"Why is everything I own rubbish!"

The strange phrases assaulted his brain until Harry doubled over groaning in confusion. Were they his memories? But they couldn't be, his mother was dead…dead and gone so long ago. Yet somehow in the back of his mind he was sure his father was too but that was impossible.

"These thoughts are driving me crazy, perhaps it is an after effect of my illness. I must ask, father," said Harry aloud to himself. He shook his head angrily. If he didn't pull himself together soon, he would surely go insane.

Taking the folded robes he carefully put them on, taking thing to adjust the cords and button to his liking. They fitted perfectly over his silver under-tunic; Lola was a good seamstress. Look down at his garment of green velvet he felt extremely out of place already. An odd fluttery feeling entered the pit of his stomach, feeling that he could never quite get used to despite his frequent exposure to it.

Supposing there were people at the ball he was expected to know? What would he say to them? Perhaps his father would explain his amnesia so he could avoid being rude to anyone.

Mindless drivel continued to float through his brain like an eddy current.

"This is servant's stuff" "To a well organized mind…" A man was flying away on a winged creature into the darkness.

The last memory bought an overwhelming sense of disappointment that washed over him and made him feel the raw despair again. The strange image was unfamiliar yet so touching. It pulled at his heart and ripped it to shreds, yet there was nothing he could do to console himself.

"Master must hurry up and dress," came an eager voice behind him and he turned to stare at the small skinny creature.

It was a house elf, but not the same one who had bought his clothes. The other one had been absolutely terrified of him.

"Master must hurry, ball starting very soon," squeaked the elf and Harry marveled at its bravery for even Lola had been afraid of him, initially. However it was a refreshing change from petrified looks.

"I'm coming," said Harry as he pulled on the cloak and tried his best to turn down the collar so he would look less like Dracula. For some strange reason he felt that the cloak would make him look like a vampire when he knew quite logically that vampire didn't even wear cloaks.

Feeling extremely self conscious Harry gathered his wits about him and smoothed out the non-existent creases on his robes. Perhaps he could get out of this? No, he decided, it was impossible. His father clearly expected him to attend the ball and he would be extremely disappointed if Harry didn't turn up

"Master must hurry," implored the elf. Harry signed and reluctantly moved toward the door but the elf stopped him. "No master must go by magic!" it squeaked. The tip of it's finger began to glow brightly and before Harry had mentally prepared himself for what was to come he turned head over heel and landed painfully on the hard marble floor.

It was impossible for Harry to tell whether he was still in the same building for he had not ventured very far from his room since his recovery. He appeared to be in some sort of entrance hall where over a dozen huge marble fireplaces were placed at regular intervals along the wall. The floor too was made of white marble, polished to the point that Harry could easily see his reflection in the floor.

His hair was standing up in all direction despite his best efforts to tame it with a wet comb. Somehow is did not surprise him, neither did the fact that he looked extremely uncomfortable in his dress robes. Perhaps he had always been awkward socially, it seemed to fit with his personality.

From his reflection he could also see the high vaulted ceiling with elaborate carvings.

"Master must hurry," insisted the elf, its dangling ear peaked up with excitement. Harry pulled his gaze away from the marble floor and hurried after the retreating back of the house elf.

They were walking towards two large oak doors at the end of the atrium. Even through the thick wood Harry could hear exciting mutters and classical music. Well here goes nothing, he thought as he took one deep breath and prepared to push the doors open. However just as his hand touched the wood they automatically swung open with flamboyance and caused him to lurch forwards in surprise.

Three hundred pairs of eyes turned in his direction and Harry only just managed to prevent himself from falling flat on his face. He was standing on some sort of raised terrace above the main ballroom where hundreds of colourful robes swirled to the music of the full orchestra at the back of the hall. However all activity stopped when he appeared and for a brief moment Harry felt as if he were glued to the spot.

Gaining his composure once more he marched definitely towards the manservants standing on either side of the staircase that led down into the main ballroom. A distinct hush fell through the crowd and only the sound of the music carried to his ears. The two valets bowed deeply and announced in booming tones,

"His Majesty, the Prince," A huge wave of applause followed, which thankfully drowned out the sound of Harry's pounding heart. Without further a do all the guests turned back to their previous activities, dancing, laughing and drinking fine wines.

"You should proceed down to the main ballroom and approach the Dark Lord," advised one valet.

"Then you must stay with him at all times. You are still classed as a child and therefore are not allowed to dance with anyone," said the other quietly. Harry felt almost as if a huge weight was lifted from his chest. At least now he wouldn't have to dance anymore.

"Thank you," said Harry politely and descended the steps as quickly as possible. As soon as he joined the throng of people dancing he felt a strange sense of safety. Many girls turned around to smile at him but thankfully no one asked him to dance.

His father was visible amongst the crowd only due to his height. The Dark Lord was wearing modest robes of green and talking amicably to a very tall official.

"Ah, my son, I see you have arrive," said the Dark Lord in the way of a greeting. He gestured for Harry to come and stand next to him. "Mulciber, this is my son Alexander."

The tall dark man looked down at Harry from a height of over two feet. He was truly a giant, dwarfing even the Dark Lord. He nodded seriously and in a deep booming voice declared,

"I am most pleased and honoured to meet you, my prince," Harry stared back wondering what to say. Finally he settled for,

"I am pleased to meet you too." Voldemort laughed at his son's awkwardness and raised his goblet for a drink.

"My son is still recovering from his illness so he will no doubt be retiring a bit earlier than normal. However in the mean time I expect he will be enjoying himself," said Voldemort in a paternal tone.

"Yes, I suppose I will enjoy myself," said Harry reluctantly, feeling some of his social awkwardness slip away. Mulciber bowed as a farewell and disappeared into the crowd to meet up with a young lady.

"Harry, come other and have some appetizers," said the Dark Lord as he motioned towards the long sideboards filled with crystal plates. Most displayed exotic sweetmeats that Harry had never seen before. One plate contained translucent gold blobs, which seemed to be alive. Every now and then the blobs would extend tentacles to reach for the edge of the bowl, no doubt in an attempt to escape.

Before Harry could tear his eyes away from the sweetmeats a blonde man came into view. His thin, angular face was perfectly placid and only the grey eyes betrayed any enjoyment.

"Good afternoon, my prince, I am Draco Malfoy and this is my partner Hermione Granger,"


AN: Oh… Hermione, you'll be seeing a lot of her later on. Hope you enjoyed it, please review.