Chapter three:
Draco sat at the Slytherin table with his arms crossed on the table and his head resting on them. The minute he stepped into the school the students seemed to swarm him, all trying to figure out why the blonde had three nasty looking scratches on his cheek. He could hear them whispering about how it was probably something his father gave him before he made it to King's Cross. That is, for those who didn't see him board the train. For those who had known very well his cheek was as pale and smooth as it ever was, those people, a much different story started spreading the school, more than likely how he had gotten into some row with a girl and she had scratched him out of self-defense. What they didn't know was how close to the truth they actually were.
"Draco, you needn't sit there and hide your face all day," Pansy told him from across the table, "No one is looking and they've all stopped talking, and Madam Pomfrey said she could fix it right up after the feast. Stop sulking."
"I am not sulking, Pansy," he answered her icily.
"Well that's what it looks like to me," she retorted.
"Not like you know much anyway," Draco whispered to himself. He looked up to see her glaring at him, so more than likely she had heard his comment. "I have a headache, Pansy, and it's not any of your business anyway. "
"Draco, what is your problem? You've been acting jumpy and cranky since you got here. Trust me, I am not the only one to notice."
"I don't care, Pansy. What I think about and what I do, is my own business. I do not like you snooping around and sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."
"Draco, before yesterday you'd boast about anything, absolutely anything. Now you are being all secretive. Did your father say anything to you?"
"NO! Pansy I already said I don't need you snooping about, nor do I want you to," he yelled at her, now noticing the extra attention he received for doing so. He glared at the other students and then placed his head back on his arms and let the sorting continue. Most of the little first years stared at Draco as if he were some sort of raving lunatic. Not the type of image about him that he really wanted to instill in their heads, but he had plenty of chances left to change that later on.
Blaise looked at Pansy from the left side of Draco, "I didn't do anything Blaise," Pansy stated defensively. Blaise shook his head and looked at Draco.
"Mate?" Draco reluctantly lifted his head and faced his friend.
"What!" he whispered dangerously.
Blaise looked at his friend intently, but in the end only shook his head and muttered, "Nothing."
"I can't stay here," Draco said before standing from his seat, causing all the eyes in the Great Hall to follow him out of the Great Hall doors. Draco quickly walked up the marble staircase, not sure where he was going because the Dungeon's were downstairs, but he didn't care. He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath.
He held the breath as he leaned up against the wall of the Hallway he had just turned into. He groaned and slid down the wall to the floor, not a position he would be willing to be caught in, but he couldn't take it anymore. He was used to people staring at him because of how he treated people. He was used to people whispering about him because of his reputation as the bully. He was not used to what he was getting now.
"Why now, why this year? I don't understand. I forgot about her… I forgot about her!" he yelled into the empty hallway.
"Could you please keep it down?" one of the portraits whispered crankily to him, "Some of us are trying to relax."
"Oh, shove it!" Draco stood up and continued his way down the dark and empty hallway.
He was almost completely down the hallway when he heard a little girl laughing. Draco shook his head and wrote it off as being one of the portraits. Hogwarts had many portraits, many that he'd never even seen before. Who was to tell him there wasn't one of a little girl, after all there was one of a mother and a baby. Draco hated that picture; the baby never stopped crying. He found it unbelievably annoying.
"Bloody picture," he whispered and turned down another hallway. All was quiet, minus the slight murmuring of some of the pictures around him, "Nothing out of the ordinary," he told himself.
He was feeling quite better after twenty minutes or so of just wandering the halls, that is until he heard the giggling of the little girl again. The type of giggle a little girl would have if they were playing a trick on someone. He turned around to see nothing behind him and that's when the laughing stopped. He glared into the darkness and turned on his heel and headed back down the hallway. The little girl started giggling again, more loudly this time. Draco stopped swiftly, but didn't turn around. He took a deep breath and headed back on his way, back to the Great Hall. All went quiet for a moment before he heard the little voice start whispering.
"It's just in my head," he said aloud. "I'm just imagining it."
"You're silly," the voice answered with a giggle. Draco jumped at the sound of it responding.
"Malfoy, why do you look like you've seen… "
"A mudblood?" He finished for her before turning around and smirking. He recognized her voice, but not the other one.
"I should have just let it take you," Hermione told him.
"What are you talking about, Granger?"
"But I won't go away," she spoke slowly to him. She smiled and crossed her arms.
"You are making no sense, Granger. And I don't have time for you, or this," Draco shrugged as he headed back down the hallway, leaving her in the dark corridor.
"Feeling guilty, Malfoy?" She called after to him.
"I don't feel guilty, and I don't have anything to feel guilty for," he yelled back to her with a smirk, even if she couldn't see it.
"Me," was the last thing he heard escape her lips. He looked over his shoulder towards her, but she was no longer there. He hadn't heard her leave the corridor, he hadn't heard anything, but she wasn't there.
"What in the world…" he spoke quietly to himself.
He was at complete at a loss as to what that whole thing was about, but he wrote it off as just being his mind looking for the crap in situations. He hadn't been himself since he had that dream earlier that morning. He decided that instead of trying to go back down to eat at the feast, he would just go straight to the Slytherin Dormitories and sleep.
At that time, it seemed like a pretty good idea to get rid of the sudden attack of paranoia that had come over him. With a quick intake of breath and a slight shake of his head, he started back down the dark and empty corridor, taking the quickest way back to his own dorm for rest. He was sure he was just under some amount of stress, though as much as he tried to convince himself of that, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched by something other than the normal inhabitants of Hogwarts.