The Mark

Harry

I'm scrubbing the floors roughly with a rag.
"Oi, Potter, careful with that rag, wouldn't want you to pull a muscle working so hard."

I don't have to look up at Malfoy to know he's got a sneer. Bloody Malfoy. I can't believe he got me into this mess.

"Shut up Malfoy." I glance up at him. He's sitting on one of the tables, doing nothing at all.
"Why don't you help? You know Professor McGonagall's gonna be mad if the floors aren't clean by the time she comes back."

Malfoy smirks.

"Whatever, Minnie can do as she pleases. There's no way I'm getting down on that floor and scrubbing it like a muggle," he says in disgust, as though even the word makes him want to gag.

"Come on Malfoy. You got us into this mess, you might as well get us out."

He laughs, but it seems forced.

"I'm a Slytherin, aren't I? Isn't betraying people just a part of my house pride?" He says it like he wants it to seem mean but honestly, it just comes out sad.

"Malfoy... are you ok?" I ask.

Hints if sympathy are creeping up into me. And worry. He's been acting strange all year. Today was our first big fight, and it's already December. He's been ignoring me for the most part, and he looks sick. He's got bags under his eyes and his pale skin seems even paler than usual. Worried for Draco Malfoy, who'd a thought this day would come? I sure hadn't. And yet, I was worried. My year had been feeling terribly boring and, well... empty. Life wasn't the same without Malfoy, that's for sure.

"I'm fine, Potter," he retorts. I'm not so convinced. Empty words, they mean nothing.

"Are you sure?" I ask again. I'm getting an honest answer from him, whether he likes it or not.

He sighs.

"I'm positive. Besides, Potter, since when have you cared about me anyway?"

He walks out of the room, leaving me alone to mull over my thoughts in peace. Something is off about Draco Malfoy, and I'm determined to find out what it is