| Like It's A Bad Thing | Draco Malfoy

Chapter Eight: Translation Please? Won't You Just Tell Me?

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Sarcasm keeps you from telling people what you really think of them...

- Some quote I heard from a friend

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The next few days came and went in a blink of an eye and Slytherin managed to gain a decent amount of points. Now, I can't say that all were given fairly and that Gryffindor didn't go down without a fight - because they didn't - but we weren't too worried with it. Competition was always tough between our Houses yet we never let it bother us much. Besides, it was too good of a first week to sink and simmer in bitterness.

***

It was Thursday now. Lukas and I had Divinations with Ravenclaw first thing in the morning and, of course, seeing how Trelawney taught the subject, no one was ever early in this class. You know, aside from us.

Lukas loved this class with a passion and had a natural talent for it. I only took it because I wasn’t old enough for Arithmancy yet and didn’t know what other course to take.

Anyway, at the moment, Lukas was going on about something he read in the textbook - all involving a REALLY bad prankster and fortune-telling eggs - while I listened happily. It was hilarious. I made a comment how he would make a great life coach with all the experience stories he knew, but he suddenly elbowed me in the ribs, causing me to stop.

I looked at him, confused. "What?"

"Look who just walked through the door. All alone."

Draco! I thought immediately. I spun around in my seat a little too enthusiastically and almost fell off; good thing I caught grip of the table behind for support.

Beside me, Lukas smirked. "Eager today, aren't we?"

"Shut up."

That earned me another chuckle but I barely noticed it. My attention was redirected to the hottest MESS I have ever seen in my whole entire life, storming into the room as he threw the same temperamental tantrum that a snotty, seven-year old boy would have after not getting something he wanted; except, in Draco's case, the kid was on steroids and had the magical prowess to screw people over if they pushed him to his limit.

And by the looks of it, that wouldn't take long.

...Draco scowled and kicked his desk. Under his breath, he was muttering something angrily. I couldn't hear exactly what it was but judging from the barely decipherable swear words he spouted here and there, I could tell it really bothered him.

I frowned. "He seems down," I said to Lukas.

"What do you think's wrong?"

I shrugged and turned back to face my best friend. "I don't know. But whatever it is, it's really bothering him."

"Then why don't you ask him?"

"Because it's none of my business," I stated blatantly. Which was true. I mean, he wasn't really my friend and I knew he definitely didn't return my feelings, so asking him about something so personal wouldn't be a good idea.

But even after saying that, there was no denying the twisting turn in my stomach and the subtle eagerness I had to sneak Draco a note, asking him what's wrong.

'Internal conflict is always so hard to deal with,' I sighed, peering over my shoulder so I could steal another glance of Malfoy. He currently made faces at the crystal ball on his table and talked in mocking voices that, undoubtedly, belonged to the source of his unhappiness. He was so focused on his dilemma; it seemed that he still hadn't noticed Lukas.