Chapter 1 Harry Is Sick, Malfoy
Draco Malfoy was thinking.
Thinking very hard, actually.
He couldn't seem to remember the last time that Potter and him had gotten into an argument or hexed each other.
Something just seemed… dull without that spark of antagonism that usually existed between them.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps, seeing Granger walking past him with a slight-nod of acknowledgement.
"Granger?" he said inquiringly, not surprised to see suspicion in her brown eyes.
"What's going on with Potter?"
"I don't know what you mean," she lied, her expression cool and calm.
"I mean, that he hasn't hexed, yelled at, or hit me in a very long time."
"I would think that you would be enjoying that fact."
"Well, I'm not. Why is he slacking in his Quest-To-Hex-All-Slytherins?"
Hermione sighed, shaking her head at him, sadness obvious in her eyes.
"When was the last time that you looked at Harry? I mean really looked? Not just seeing what you expect to see?"
"I can't recall. Why does that matter?"
"Harry is sick, Malfoy."
"What do you mean, sick?"
"He won't eat, he can't sleep, and nothing anyone says or does will get through to him. It's like he's lost somewhere in his own mind. Somewhere happier. He's just not there anymore. So far his magic is sustaining him, but I'm worried if he keeps this up he'll die. We all are."
Malfoy looked shocked, his silver-gray eyes darkening as Hermione walked away.
It couldn't be.
He wouldn't allow it.
He'd shake him awake if he had to.
On instinct, he headed toward the Hospital-Wing.