Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
Authors warning/note: Hey, so I'm not good at writing Harry, but what the hell, I gave it a shot. Comments and constructive criticism is always more than welcome!
"He's up to something. I just know it." Harry narrowed his eyes, glaring at the Slytherin table. Yesterday, Malfoy had skipped astronomy, and Sinistra had let him get away with it. Harry suspected she was under the imperius, or maybe had been seduced by the side of the dark.
And also, Malfoy wasn't rising to Harry or Ron's bait. And there was a rumor that he might have demanded Higgs let him be reserve seeker instead of the real seeker this year. He also looked tired, probably from being so evil. And he probably had the dark mark.
"Harry, maybe he just grew up over the summer? He's just a git," Hermione said peacefully, still cocooned in her homework, eating some toast, not even looking up to assess Malfoy as he assuredly, and evilly read the paper.
"An evil git," mumbled Harry mutinously, prodding Ron, who was asleep, face first in a bread basket. His friends were being terribly unsupportive. He was an expert sort of, at fighting evil, didn't they trust him to be able to identify an evil plotting death eater?
He glared, watching as the Slytherin table seemed suspiciously quiet. Only 4 slytherin seventh years remained, but the rest of the house was whole, but they were all being quiet and orderly, and Harry didn't like it. He suspected those missing slytherins were probably already off at Death Eater camp, learning how to undiluted their evil.
Malfoy looked tired, staring vacantly at the paper, and Harry had to admit, that at the moment he looked like the only thing he was in danger of doing was keeling over and taking a nap. But after the nap, he would probably teach the Slytherin first years how to cast the unforgivables. Bastard.
Harry had also seen Malfoy skulking about in the forbidden forest last night. But when he'd gone to get Ron to show him, Malfoy had disappeared. Probably off to worship Voldemort. All in all, this ignoring Harry in favor or slinking around was very suspicious.
He was still glaring at his eggs and trying to figure out what to do, when Hermione dragged him and a very sleepy Ron off to potions. Where Malfoy sat in the back, and ignored Harry, even when Harry gave him his angriest glare. Malfoy in fact, seemed not to notice anything, just resting his head on Pansy Parkinson's arm, and ignoring the whole world. And of course, Snape let him do it, instead busying himself with making Harry's life awful. Stupid Slytherin favoritism. It was all very very unfair.
After class, which Harry had gotten a zero for, as Snape had accidentally dropped Harry's flask of finished potion, Harry decided to try to talk to Malfoy. He had to be talked out this evil, it wasn't good. But as Harry pushed his way through some students, Zabini stopped him by spinning and squaring his shoulders, eyes narrowing at Harry.
"Let me through, Zabini, I want to talk to your all mighty ruler," Snapped Harry, shoving him, when the boy refused to step aside.
A cruel smile played on Zabini's face. "No," Zabini drawled lazily, though it did not sound as polished as it would have if Malfoy had said it. Zabini was big, and while he looked nearly as tired as Malfoy, instead of being withdrawn, the wear and tear looked mean and dashing on him. Malfoy looked like a sick, drawn maiden with the Fainting Spells, but Zabini looked a little dangerous, tired.
Before Harry could whip out his wand, Hermione was on him, dragging him towards the stairs, nearly hysterical about the prospect of being late to charms.
Harry watched as the oldest 15 or so slytherins were huddled in a dungeon passage way. They had been there for quite a long time, sometimes pacing, sometimes not, and it took every ounce of strength Harry possessed not to run to Hermione and show her the map, pointing at the undoubtedly devious going on's of the slytherins.
Then, the group began to move, and they were leaving the castle. It was Friday, tomorrow was Quidditch, where on earth were they going? Into the dark forest to sacrifice a goat to Voldemort? To have an orgy behind the quidditch pitch? Harry didn't like it. Not one bit. They were going off campus now, after hours. Which was against the rules. He stood up, and stalked downstairs, shoving past Seamus grouchily, and ignoring Ron and Hermione. They would only roll their eyes at him, he needed to tell Dumbledore, someone who would understand the potential danger here. They were at war, and there were slytherins on the loose. Surely someone would see to it that they were at least questioned. Suspicious little buggers.