It was breakfast at Hogwarts and everyone was indulging in their meal and chatting cheerfully with their Pals.... Everyone except one person.

Draco Malfoy

For the last week or so he's been a total and utter mess; it was clearly a sight to behold and got noticed by many of his peers. Not only the Slytherin's but also other houses have noticed it.

He stopped teasing and making fun of Harry, his friends and others. To be completely honest, sometimes it seems he stopped talking all together. But when he did dove into a conversation, he either barely spoke or if they irritate him (which was quite easy to do) he'd blow up into a sort of rage that was surprising, and for many quite frightening, really frightening.

He also didn't really take much care of his appearance, for example, his hair wasn't gelled back and combed anymore. Everyone knew how much pride he took in his appearance and this was the first thing that made others worry.

Malfoy as well completely lost interest in nearly every subject, well except potions, he seemed more focused on that than ever before. Even if he barely payed attention, he still managed to keep low about the fact that he was in fact, clearly, not listening.

More than anything, it quite intrigued Harry. How someone so prideful and respected could take his posture down so low, especially it being Malfoy, THAT Draco Malfoy.

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||Harry's Pov||

Looking around the hall everything seemed fine and dandy. Hermione seemed to find a new book that peaked her interest and even before she sat down she started rambling on about the book. Since she sat right next to Ron, poor him, he's been picked as her first victim as Hermione started to blabber on about the book. Ron being Ron sighed looking at his food in defeat. I chuckled a bit to myself before returning to my own food. I started to eat it slowly as I didn't feel like I needed to hurry today really.

Suddenly for some reason my eyes turned towards the Slytherin table. I scanned it, like everyday they were eating food and discussing different spells and hexes their parents created or something like that. Not really interesting if you ask me really. But when I reached the faces of Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini I noticed that in-between them sat a disheveled, sleep deprived Malfoy.

Quite a sight if you ask me. I studied his face, well as much as I could as his face was mostly hidden by his hair whilst he looked down at his plate. He sat there, picking at his food barely eating, his face seemed unreadable.

A type of face that you couldn't know what they were thinking. The one you'd look at and knew that instant that if you did something without thinking you'd be dead meat.

I got pulled out of my thoughts at a Hermione screaming my name.

"Harry. Harry. HARRY." She shouted from beside Ron. I instantly snapped back to reality and looked around, for a second a bit confused at what was happening.

"Harry were you even listening?" she spoke with a quite mad and irritated tone.

"Uhm.. yeah!" I replied, clearly not convincing her.

"Ughh, don't lie, what's even so interesting over there?" She pointed in the direction before averting her gaze there as well, putting her hand down and realising what I was. unknowibly gaping at.

She studied, what I suspected to be Malfoy of course before she looked back at me with a confused, concerned? Ehh I dunno how to describe it. With a look let's say that.

"What's wrong with Malfoy, this is literally nothing like him, and even if I hate to admit this. I do feel slightly worried." She whispered loudly.

"Dunno what you mean. Maybe he finally got a woop around his arse and just can't comprehend that his sAcReD bottom has been hurt." Ron said with a quite evil smirk, or as evil as it can get when your mouth is half full of food I guess.

Hermione slapped Ron and he looked back at her with a sort of face that can be only described as a confused, constipated chicken.
Try to imagine that I guess.

||Draco's Pov||

Can't they just piss off with these dagger glazed glares?

Like seriously. Can a man not get a moment of peace and solitude? Wow.
I nearly am sounding as stupid as one of the Weasleys. Geez I didn't know that from exhaustion one could stoop so low.

Pansy has clearly been worried sick. I can't blame her I guess. I do look like a living corpse. But in all honesty....
I couldn't care less really.

Surprised? No? Yes?
Don't care.

Couldn't care less if I'm trying to be honest with myself. If not for this coffee and some potions I whipped up earlier I would probably be asleep in this damned scrambled egg.

I glared up from the egg that now looks as mushed as I feel. I see the mudblood hitting the weasel. If I had strength I would probably snort at that as it is a quite pleasant sight; seeing the weasels face after that Granger hit him. But again, too tired to care.

I see them staring at me with a look of..... Concern?

Wow Malfoy, wow. You really have gone mad from these god forsaken nightmares. The golden trio and sAiNt
pOtTeR worried about your sorry arse. Please.

But admitting the fact that these stares are getting annoying would be quite an understatement.

So, with as rational a mind as one can have after not sleeping for about 2 weeks or so. I stood up and headed out of the hall before I did anything...

Rash so to say.

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||Third person POV||

Draco headed carefully yet at a quick pace towards the door. No matter how agitating the damned stares were getting he uses his, so to say, Malfoy pride to keep him from lashing out like a madman.

Harry was one of those many dagger like glares. He studied Draco for the past week. Quite unusual and of course he wouldn't admit it but it was just instinct he guessed.

He at last came to the conclusion Draco had nightmares. Bad nightmares to say. Harry has had a first hand experience with awful, terrifying, petrifying even nightmares that he's glad no one (as far as he was concerned) had witnessed. And for a while it did mess him up a bit. But compared to Draco at the moment, it might seem like those nightmares would be a piece of cake to handle.

To mess up someone with such strength and pride to this rate.

It couldn't just be any dream really. Harry knew that. But he couldn't figure out what could make such a Slytherin king, a Malfoy pride heir, the queen of gits. To get so terribly bad.

Uncomfortably bad.