"He looks a bit ill." I said trying not to show any compassion with my tone, so that Harry would not catch on."Draco, I mean... don't you think?" I said while sitting in the great hall where the voices of my fellow classmates were echoing through the walls and laughing of the houses were slightly shaking the four walls that stand tall. I found myself staring at the boy with the long face and once bright grey eyes now turned dull from exhaustion. Harry frowned. "I dunno." He replied, "I guess so. He kind of always looks like that. Why do you care anyways, Mione?" I shook my head. Of course Harry didn't see it. He is blinded by his "hatred" that began in the first year when Malfoy tried to befriend him. Why did I care, anyways? "I don't." I said after a long pause, "I was just observing." I said shaking my head and getting back into my book just examining the familiar pages, but I was lying if I said I did not care because I did.