The Good Slytherin

Chapter Four: Mark

Seeing Malfoy that night surrounded by a who's who of Death Eater children was a grim reminder that something sinister was slowly brewing. It was hard to think of much less as Mark lay in bed that night, but he forced his thoughts back to his summer in France--the weather, the food, the not having to live with his parents for six weeks. Bliss. And if memories of his summer became well worn, he always had Zacharias Smith to ponder. That and France were the only thing that prevented his anxieties from fully overtaking his thoughts.

Coming back to Hogwarts when he fully knew what awaited him had been one of the hardest things he ever had to do--almost as hard as going back home before term started. The knowledge that his parents were willing to ingratiate themselves with the Dark Lord and sacrifice their son for family glory had sickened him to no end. He had to only imagine what lay ahead in Slytherin, at last understanding Daphne's annual sense of dread at returning to Hogwarts.

That said, September had been an eerily quiet month. Both he and Tristan had kept very close watch on their fellow Slytherins for any sign that Voldemort had breached their world. The weeks had ticked by and nothing. However, all this changed when Tristan anxiously pulled Mark aside in the common room to tell him that he needed to talk to him. From the look on his face, he had something unpleasant to share.

"What is it," he asked.

"Not here, mate. Anywhere but here."

They hastily exited the common room and wandered down one of the lesser-used corridors in the dungeon. Lit only by the occasional torch, he had a hard time making out Tristan's expression in the dim light.

"I'm supposed to meet Daph--"

"Just hear what I have to say to you first. Then you can join her," he said sharply.

"What's wrong?"

His friend looked shiftily around him. The corridor was completely empty. Bringing his voice down low, he said, "You weren't kidding when you said Malfoy was up to something."

"What did you expect?" he asked, though slightly annoyed at the implication that he was being anything but serious regarding the threat in Slytherin.

Even in the dim light, Mark could tell that the color was gone from Tristan's face. "So I was making my way through the dormitories on my way to the common room just now and I passed the fifth year dormitory. There was a bit of a gathering going on in there."

"Who did you see?"

"Definitely Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Think I also saw Warrington and some of the blokes from the Quidditch team. There were others, but I couldn't exactly pop my head in there and take count. What I did notice," and Tristan leaned in close as he said this, "was that they were having themselves a bit of a chat about You-Know-Who."

"The Dark Lord?"

"Yeah. Malfoy was really puffed up about how his father had given him an important task. Seems he has secretly been put in charge of recruiting for the Death Eaters."

A strange feeling crept through Mark's body that left him dizzy. "My parents want me to be a Death Eater."

"You knew about this?"

"I--I thought it was only my idiot parents. I didn't know it was part of something bigger!"

"Well, there's something else."

"Something besides recruiting for the Dark Lord?"

Tristan shook his head. "Seems little Draco has been given the task of taking down the names of students with mixed blood. Anyone at Hogwarts who has a muggle for a parent, he's got them written down. And if they aren't on his list yet, they will be. He was boasting about it to others--called it his Mudblood List."

"Did you hear why?" Mark asked, though quite afraid of what the answer might be.

"So that when You-Know-Who comes to power, they can be rounded up and executed," he gulped. "Bloody hell, Mark!"

Mark fumbled for a proper response.

"There's more."

"More?"

"Yeah, mate. He was also bragging about making a list of possible blood traitors. Guess who's near the top of the list?"

"Who?"

"You, Mark."

"Me?" he stammered, sounding far more shocked then he really ought have been.

"Yeah. And you've got company. My name is near the top of the list too."

"You? What did you ever do to get branded a blood traitor? By associating with the likes of me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, mate. I'm pretty sure it's because of my dad."

"Your dad?" All Mark knew was that Tristan's father was one of the top healers at St. Mungo's specializing in spell damage.

"My dad was in Slytherin a few years behind Malfoy's father. He was vocal about his disdain for Mr. Malfoy and You-Know-Who and made himself enemies in the process. Draco's father must have surely told his son this bit of information. Why else do you think Malfoy junior had taken such a dislike to me?"

"I don't know. I suppose I never thought about it."

"Yeah well it's because I was raised to respect human life. More than I can say for the Malfoys."

Mark began to process all that Tristan had told him. There was one question that was weighing on his mind. "What about Daphne?"

"Didn't hear her name mentioned. But I couldn't stick around and listen too long. Last thing I wanted was to be caught by Malfoy eavesdropping on his conversation."

"I've been saying all month that something's been going on in this place."

"Yeah well, mate, here's your proof."

Mark ran a finger nervously over his pursed lips. "The notion of being on Malfoy's hit list . . ."

Tristan said nothing, but still looked rather pale.

"All right." Mark felt his temper rising. "Malfoy thinks I am a blood traitor? I'll show him what a blood traitor can do. I'll--" He stopped, noticing movement out of the corner of his eye. Coming at them from the other end of the low dungeon corridor, of all people, was Zacharias Smith. The Hufflepuff looked particularly rugged and handsome, slowing his movements when he saw him and Tristan. Mark had to wonder what Smith must think seeing two Slytherins huddled in a corner in the dim light.

Tristan followed Mark's gaze to where it fell on Smith and scowled. There was a quiet standoff for a moment or two before the Hufflepuff sneered and continued on. Mark couldn't help but sigh longingly as Smith disappeared.

"My, aren't we easily distracted," Tristan tutted, bringing Mark back to attention.

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"Apparently one sight of Zacharias Smith is enough to make you forget that both you and I are on an execution wish list?"

Mark's stomach lurched a little.

"I have Herbology with him, by the way. He's the most unbelievable twat. You can really do better than that."

Mark crossed his arms defensively. Naturally, Tristan's disapproval made him more interested in Smith. "What do you think he was doing all the way down here?"

"I think the Hufflepuff common room is down that corridor somewhere."

"How convenient. I never knew--"

"Sod this Zacharias lark," he snapped uncharacteristically, grey eyes wide, "and go tell the girls what I just told you."

"Right," Mark stammered and turned to leave the dungeon, but noticed that Tristan did not join him. "Wait. You're not coming to dinner?"

"Sorry, mate. There's something I need to do first," he replied.

Mark did what he was told, finding the girls nearly finished with their meal. He remembered the last time he felt this way, when he overheard his parents discussing him becoming a Death Eater. He waited till they were walking back to Slytherin before telling them what he had just heard. As expected, Daphne was shocked; Marion was less so, shrugging off Mark's gravity.

"It makes sense," she replied with a whiff of arrogance, brushing back her brown hair. "That's what the Dark Lord wants--total purification of the Wizarding world. Lucius Malfoy would be an idiot not to exploit Draco's time at Hogwarts."

"When did you become such an expert on the Dark Lord? I didn't hear your name on that list," he said, perhaps a little unfairly.

Marion's eyes narrowed on him. "Maybe if you stopped talking rubbish half the time and learned to be a good Slytherin, you wouldn't have so many enemies."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You make such a keen effort to let everyone in Slytherin know what side you are on. No wonder Malfoy thinks you are a blood traitor. Perhaps if you learned to be a little more cunning--"

"Marion, have some sympathy," Daphne interjected quietly. "No one likes to find out they are on an execution list."

"Sorry, Daphne, but if Mark would be a bit more shrewd about his time in Slytherin, he would have access to information that he doesn't now. And he wouldn't be on some bloody list."

Mark felt his temper rise. "Is that what you've done, Marion?"

"It's a far more clever way to spend my time."

"Is it? Then why aren't you spying on the Blondie for us?"

Marion was silenced and he resisted the urge to gloat.

"Yeah, you can find out what Blondie has been up to," Daphne eagerly observed.

"I . . . but . . ."

"Yeah, Marion, wouldn't that be a far more clever way to spend your time?" He couldn't resist the jab. "Or are you afraid of risking your cushy life in Slytherin?"

"Sod off, Mark."

"Both of you, stop it," Daphne said crossly, her patience clearly wearing thin.

"I've got to go to the library," Marion said brusquely as she made for the stairs.

"Who needs enemies with friends like that," he scoffed between gritted teeth when Marion was out of earshot. "Daphne, I know she is your cousin, but sometimes I really can't stand her. I have no idea why she dislikes me sometimes."

"Well you must have done something," she snapped. "Why else would she have so little patience with you?"

The comment irritated him. He felt his best friend should be more on his side.

"Besides," she continued, "you should make an effort not to anger her. She was right about having access to information that we will never have. Maybe she can help us to find out more about this list."

He tried not to erupt with a volley of rude words for Marion as they headed back to Slytherin for the evening.

The next day, Mark struggled to take notes in History of Magic, and as always, Professor Binns provided an excruciatingly boring lecture on some irrelevant bit of history. Binns continued to drone on and on although it was quite evident that none of his students were paying attention, and it was so easy for Mark's mind to drift back to his conversation with Tristan the night previous. He was just beginning to daydream about Zacharias Smith when Daphne poked him with her wand.

"You're thinking about that list?" she whispered.

Actually he was thinking about Zacharias playing Quidditch shirtless, but he figured Daphne didn't want to know that. "It's hard to think of much other than that bloody list?" he lied, glancing ahead to where Draco Malfoy was talking to Goyle. The fact that a hit list existed somewhere in Malfoy's possession did gnaw at him incessantly. Morbid curiosity alone fueled a need to see just who was named in addition to himself.

"And Tristan was sure he didn't hear my name?"

"He couldn't hear the whole conversation," Mark said slightly impatiently. He didn't have the heart to remind her that there was a very good chance that she was right up there at the top of the blood traitor list with him. Despite Malfoy's newfound reservations toward Daphne, there was no reason to think he had developed a soft spot for the niece of a traitor.

It was through his parents that he first learned of Delphinia Thorpe--the sister of Daphne's mother. Her betrayal of Voldemort and her subsequent death and that of her parents was a mere footnote in the history of the Dark Lord's rise to power, but her name still provoked ire among his supporters.

"I wish there was a way we could know for sure," Daphne mumbled, bringing his attention back to her. It looked as though she was making a halfhearted attempt to keep up with the lecture notes. She was making circles with her quill.

Mark was about to say something dismissively when he struck upon an idea. "There is a way. We just have to search Blondie's things."

Her green eyes were wider than he had ever seen. "Have you lost your bleeding mind? Just when do you think you will get in there without being caught?"

Mark grinned devilishly. The plan was ridiculously simple, leaving him feeling quite pleased with himself. "Hogsmeade Weekend."

There was a look of fear on Daphne's face.

"Don't worry. Tristan and I will do it."

She made a small whimper of protest.

"It has to be done," he said in a low voice, making sure that none of his classmates could hear him. Professor Binns continued to drone on in the background. "Don't you want to know if you are on that list? Don't you want to fight back against Malfoy?"

Her eyes darted furtively around the room before she nodded reluctantly.

When the first Saturday of October finally came and the Slytherin dorm cleared out except for first and second years, Mark and Tristan seized on their opportunity to go filching through Malfoy's things. Both were eager to get a better idea of what Malfoy was up to and Mark especially wanted to know who else was on that list. As they quietly approached the fifth year dormitory, they kept their ears cocked for signs of any stragglers and stuck their heads into Malfoy's room--it was empty.

"Okay," Mark said quietly and motioned for Tristan to stay close to the door.

Walking over to the four poster bed that he knew as Malfoy's, Mark went straight for the trunk that stood to the left of it and began to carefully shift through layers of badly folded school robes, socks, and other clothing. The act of going through Malfoy's things was repulsive and his revulsion only grew when he found an old and mangled magazine at the bottom. "Ugh," Mark said involuntarily, glancing at the moving pictures of naked women. "Malfoy's got porn."

"Let me see," came Tristan's rather eager whisper from the other side of the room.

Mark chose to ignore that request, shifting through some more things at the bottom including a broken quill, some sweets, and some crumpled wrappers. He was about give up on the trunk when he found it--two folded up pieces of parchment tucked under the magazine. He quickly seized them, feeling rather smug that Malfoy never considered a simple Vanishing Spell to hide the incriminating evidence.

"Tsk, tsk," he said under his breath.

"Did you find anything?" Tristan asked impatiently.

"I think so," Mark replied as he unfolded the first bit of parchment, immediately noting the names of some fifty students listed in lilting, sloppy handwriting. The parchment was titled "Blood Traitors" in big letters and underlined as if for emphasis. At the top were the names of four Weasleys followed by a name he vaguely recognized as a Gryffindor. Just below this name, written in the same scratchy red ink, was his name. Two below his own was Tristan's.

Mark scanned the rest of the list looking for a mention of either Marion or Daphne--both were absent. Shocked, he even read through it again and again, but nothing. Though he wasn't surprised that Marion's name was absent, the lack of Daphne's was rather baffling. Motioning for Tristan come over, he handed him the list with trepidation. "Look who's missing from the list."

Tristan glanced at it for a moment or two before responding, "Now that is strange. Daphne and Marion are not on this list. Bully for them?"

"Yes, bloody fantastic. I realize this is a horrible thing to say, but Daphne deserves to be on this list as much as we do," Mark added indignantly.

There was an awkward silence where they both looked disbelievingly at the parchment.

"Burn it," Tristan said suddenly.

"But shouldn't we put it back?"

"No, burn it. It is the foulest thing I have ever seen. Even if Malfoy writes up another, I will take satisfaction in knowing that I helped destroy the original."

Mark hesitated, wondering if its destruction would tip off Malfoy to the fact that his things had been searched. Tristan seemed to sense this reluctance and got his wand out.

"If you don't burn it, I will. Something like this has no right to exist."

Mark reluctantly handed over the other piece of parchment--no doubt containing Malfoy's list of mudbloods. Tristan didn't give it a second glance. "Incendio." The parchment kindled instantly on contact and burned brightly in his grip. When the flames got close to his fingers, he fanned out the fire, which only left a smoldering black mass of ash. He pointed his wand at the remains, saying, "Evanesco." The charred parchment disappeared immediately.

"Well, I feel better. How about you?" Mark asked dryly as Tristan flicked a piece of ash off his sleeve.

Tristan didn't miss a beat. "Brilliant. Time to go and join the girls."

They placed Malfoys things back the way they found them and left the Slytherin dorm for Hogsmeade. When they arrived, they located Marion and Daphne in the Three Broomsticks discussing some inane aspect of Hogwarts life. Mark and Tristan ordered butterbeers, sat down, and waited for the avalanche of questions.

Daphne was the first. "So, what did you find?" she asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.

Though he had ordered a butterbeer, Mark didn't feel like drinking it after reading all those names Malfoy had amassed for execution. He did his best to quietly explain what they had discovered, repeating what was already known--that he and Tristan were right there near the top of the list. "The good news is that neither of you are on the list," Mark added.

"Are you sure?" Daphne stammered.

"Yes. We checked the list more than once," Tristan confirmed gravely.

Marion set down her mug. "You mean Daphne isn't on that list?"

"What do you think it means?" Daphne quickly asked before Mark could get a word in edgewise.

Truth was, Mark didn't know what it meant. It seemed for too deliberate to be some sort of oversight on Malfoy's part--having singled Daphne out so many times in the past, there was no visible reason for him to start now. He leaned back and looked searching at her, wondering what the niece of Delphinia Thorpe could have done to get herself this unexpected pardon.