(A/N: I don't really know what to say, I guess I went on a unannounced hiatus? And also because that not many people reviewed… I probably went on with my life without much thought of the unfinished story, until… Well, I went through my old mail and remembered suddenly, so let's all thank Prankster 4 life for that particular review And, I know, I have already read book 7. But let's just pretend it never happened, okay:D Yeah, I'm being selfish… Well, anyway, enjoy! I'll be needing more reviews to motivate me, okay?)

The dark night sky was always a soothing view to Draco Malfoy. He used to remember, sitting cross-legged on the marble balcony of Malfoy Manor, young Draco Malfoy used to stare at the black beyond. Like an ebony canvas, dotted with tiny stars and painted moon, the sky was a hypnotizing painting to Draco. Watching the white diamonds dance in the dark has been a nightly habit of Draco. At moments of sadness or deep emotion, Draco would just look out the window and let the sight captivate him with its calming magic. But this time, the sky seemed to bring misfortune as Tom had came into the dungeon only a few hours ago.

"Draco," Tom muttered, his every step echoing into the hollow Dungeon, bringing a cold jab in his heart as every stride brought him closer. His bare back still winced whenever he moved his body and the scars stabbed at his nerves, the pain was almost unbearable. Letting his head fall, he let a curtain of platinum blonde cascade before his eyes. I don't want to see you, I don't want you to be here…

But Tom Marvolo Riddle's feet appeared right before his face.

Draco winced in pain as Tom grabbed the chains, pulling his up to his knees. Crouching before him, Tom, with a swift movement, grabbed Draco's fringe and tugged. Holding his head face-to-face by his hair, Tom's eyes bore into his. "Draco," he muttered. "Do you know what you did a month ago?"

Shocked by the sudden question, Draco nodded his head slightly, his hair still grasped within the Dark Lord's fist. Parting dried lips, Draco muttered the first words he ever said the entire day. "I was a Death Eater." His hoarse voice reduced to a hiss within the brick walls.

"I mean the month that never happened, Draco," Tom muttered, a smirk playing on his lips. "The month that you betrayed me and helped a pathetic band of wizards and witches." He hissed. "That month." He shook Draco's head slightly, the numbing pain stinging his scalp.

"Yes," Draco uttered slowly. "I remember."

"Tell me!" Tom muttered. "Tell me what happened. What you did, what Potter did. What I did!"

Draco tried to back away from the man in front of him, but his face was contorted in determination and frustration. His hand holding his hair had clenched in a strong fist and, Draco could've sworn, he saw his eyes flash red.

"Why?" Draco asked in a tired voice. The voice that escaped from him was alien to his ears. Barely even a whisper. Draco's energy was slowly seeping away, but his immortal soul still had a firm grip on his body.

"Because I don't remember, dammit!" Tom yelled in his face. Loosing his cool composure, he was almost undistinguishable to Draco.

It too a few moments for Draco to fully understand his words. 'Tom Marvolo Riddle…Lord Voldermort… doesn't remember what had happened the month before?' he thought, he barely understood his own thinking as he felt as though his life was slipping from his body. The room began to spin and his platinum blonde fringe jerked. Tom was trying to wake him up… He saw the dagger from before, that damned piece of silver, and his vision blurred. But, a flash of emerald green suddenly engulfed the intricately carved knife and the glow turned black. Before he fell into unconsciousness, he felt himself utter a string of words and a strong pressure on his back followed.

"I'll never tell…"

The dagger that Tom had plunged into his back was nowhere to be seen and so was the sadistic older wizard. What exactly had he done to him? Draco didn't know, but he felt healthier than before and his strength was replenishing. What exactly was Tom Riddle's plan? Draco didn't know, he only knew that his earlier wounds were gone from his back. Reaching to his back, he ran a hand over the exposed, cool skin and the surface felt smooth. As though nothing had happened. That made the young Slytherin chuckle. As though nothing had happened? To say that after the month with Potter and the gang of mixed characters, it would be madness and insanity. He continued to feel his back, he jerked his body and winced in pain. It felt as if someone had poured acid into his bloodstream and had it pumped throughout his whole body.

Yes, it would be madness to say that nothing had happened.

The pain retreated from the rest of his body and back to the patch of skin that his fingers had brushed upon earlier. What exactly was Voldermort's, no, Tom Riddle's plan?

Back at Hogwarts…

"We need a plan," Harry said in a leader-like, glancing at everyone who was present in the Room of Requirements. He had a determined look on his bespectacled face and his green eyes glinted with what looked like determination. Though, a little doubt still hung in the room…

It wasn't easy, getting everyone that was in their previous journey to meet at the same time in the Room. And it was a pretty depressed scene, might I add. Danielle was spacing out most of the time with a lifeless and depressed look on her face, Elvira and Nadia had given up on trying to cheer her up and were both staring into deep space, not really doing much, Viktor looked somewhat worried, Lily and Hermione were brainstorming on strategies, Ron and Sirius were munching on some early-morning breakfast and the rest were pretty much doing nothing.

"And we can't give up now," Harry added, just in case. Everyone looked as if they might stand up, walk out of the room and yell 'I quit!' any second now…

"You woke us up at six in the morning, to tell us that?" Sirius asked sarcastically, through a mouth full of muffin crumbs. Lily casually stomped on his foot.

"Let Harry speak!" she scolded angrily. "Just because you're not a morning person, doesn't mean that you can take your male PMS on Harry."

James's head lolled a little as he threatened to drift off to sleep and loud snores came from a corner of the room and everyone's attention was drawn to Ron, whose mouth was stuffed full of muffin yet he miraculously continued to snore…

Harry felt like slapping himself… He wondered how Draco was doing… But he didn't dare to bring up the subject unless he wanted Danielle to burst into tears…again.

"Well, everyone," Fred said loudly, so that all of them could hear.

"Harry had another dream," George continued.

"We weren't there."

"So tell us already."

"We're curious."

"And somebody poke Ron."

Elvira prodded Ron in the ribs and with a loud snort, he shot back to consciousness, blinking his eyes like a madman. "Wot?" he asked, his mouth still a little full before he swallowed the contents, causing Hermione, Nadia and Lily to cringe. "Ew," Elvira murmured.

And so, Harry proceeded to tell everyone of his dream, which was unusually pleasant, compared to the nightmares of murder and torture that Voldermort always given him. It was more of a… well, Harry wasn't sure what it was…

"Voldermort was watching a chick flick!" Sirius yelled out, standing up abruptly.

Lily slapped her forehead and Hermione sighed exasperatedly while the twins and Ron doubled over laughing and the rest stifled their laughs.

The rest of the meeting was uneventful and everyone soon left. Harry had insisted that he were to stay. He needed some time to think… Maybe thinking would make things feel better…

But Harry felt a little unnerved at the thoughts that now ran through his mind. Why, exactly, did Voldermort have a dream like that? That was the most frequent question that continuously popped up in his head…

Harry didn't have much more time to think when, suddenly, the fireplace behind him started to rumble. A few bits of the wall fell from their original place and the room gave a huge jerk, sending Harry to the floor on all fours and the furniture of the Room of Requirement wavered before finally disappearing. What was going on? With no time to react and no time to think, the room finally stopped shaking and a blindingly bright green light filled the entire room, engulfing everything in sight… Harry heard someone call out his name, the voice was painfully familiar but he didn't recognized it right away.

The next thing he knew, he was sprawled across a bed, with Draco Malfoy staring at him from a bedside chair, the concern on his face slowly morphed to a smirk and the young Gryffindor was lost…

(A/N: You may notice the different writing styles for the first half (in the Dungeon) and the second half (Room of Requirement) But that was because both were written at different times and during different moods. Don't forget to review!)