The Good Slytherin

Chapter Eight: Mark

Mark should have seen it coming. When he added it up--the list, Malfoy's recent strange behavior towards Daphne--he should have tried to protect her, but he was too wrapped up with Zacharias to see beyond himself. And now he had failed--it was gut wrenching.

Silently berating himself further, he sprinted up staircase after moving staircase, past the post-dinner clusters of students, past a couple of first year girls who giggled at him, and finally down the corridor that lead to the library. As he entered, Mark spotted his friend sitting at one of the tables deep in thought and surrounded by a jumble of books and parchment rolls. The commotion of Mark barreling into the library was enough to cause not only Tristan to look up in alarm, but the other students who gathered too.

"Malfoy--" Mark started to say as he came up to him, out of breath and disheveled from his dash up to the sixth floor from the dungeons. He rubbed involuntarily at the cramp that was forming in his side. Everyone was watching him.

Tristan, seeming to realize the need for them to talk in private, gathered his things hastily into his schoolbag and led him back out of the library. It was a good thing because Madam Pince looked quite keen on throwing them out for making such a commotion.

"Tell me everything."

Panting for breath, Mark waited till they were a clear distance from the library before blurting out with the whole story. As he did so, Tristan looked stunned.

"Hang on. Was Malfoy trying to get Daphne to join his side?"

"I don't know. I think so," Mark said with a sharp intake of breath.

Tristan paced for a moment, brow furrowed, as if trying to fully understand all the bits of information accumulated over the last two months. "And he definitely said she was either on the side of the You-Know-Who or not?"

"Yes."

"I remember something Marion said to me a couple of weeks ago. She said that Malfoy has been terrorizing a lot of the younger Slytherins."

"She also said that supposedly Malfoy's father has entrusted him with some task here at Hogwarts. Maybe this goes beyond the execution lists."

A couple of Gryffindor students started towards them presumably on their way to the library. Mark and Tristan waited for them to pass before continuing.

Tristan looked as though he was trying deeply to connect all the bits together. After a few moments, he lowered his voice. "My theory is that Lucius Malfoy wants his son to use his time in Slytherin wisely. So Draco goes around making sure there is a ready population of people to support the rise of You-Know-Who."

"Yeah and anyone not up for it gets put down on the Blood Traitor List."

"It would be a huge coup against Dumbledore if his father, a known Death Eater, succeeded in getting a fourth of the school in favor of the You-Know-Who. And then if the very worst were to happen . . . if the Wizarding world were to fall to him, all Lucius Malfoy would need to do is hand over those execution lists and . . ."

He seemed unable to finish his sentence, but he didn't need to. Mark already knew what Tristan was going to say. Neither of them seemed keen to discuss the likelihood of their executions at the hands of Voldemort's forces. Mark cleared his throat in an attempt to steer conversation elsewhere.

"You think Malfoy really wants Daphne on his side?"

"Why would he want her? She's the niece of a Death Eater turned double agent."

Mark suddenly got an alarming thought. "What if he knows we searched his things?"

"Come off it, mate. There's no way he could know it was us."

"Seriously. Daphne is the weak one of all of us and if he wanted to send us a message, he would just have to go after her."

"You give Malfoy far more credit than he deserves. He's too dim to come up with a plan that sophisticated."

Mark kicked angrily at a nearby wall, his breath finally slowing down but his mind darting from many irrational thoughts. He was as baffled as he was incensed and still unable to shake a deep sense of failure.

"Where's Daphne now?" Tristan asked.

"She went to her room. She was really shaken up by the whole thing."

"That bastard. If I were as evil as him, I would have transfigured him into something nasty long ago. Hagrid's pants perhaps. That would really be a fitting end to that useless git." Tristan paused, looking around to see if anyone was coming. "So now we know a little more of what Malfoy is up to--recruiting for You-Know-Who. Still doesn't explain why Daphne?"

Dejected, Mark stuck his hands deep into his pockets. "What are we going to do?"

"What can we do? We just can't go after him with our wands out in some crude Gryffindor way. No. We wait for an opportunity to quietly and powerfully take our revenge."

Mark managed to smile at his sly reference to Harry Potter and noticed that he had never seen Tristan so worked up. He was normally so easy going, but Malfoy's behavior that evening seemed to have lit a fire in the sixth year.

Malfoy's stunt was clearly a warm up to something larger. On separate occasions, both he and Tristan witnessed Malfoy and Parkinson bullying some of the younger Slytherin students and demanding their allegiance to the Dark Lord. The frightened eleven and twelve year olds quickly acquiesced to pressure. Clearly Malfoy made a persuasive argument when flanked by the hulking forms of Crabbe and Goyle. This only managed to confirm what he and Tristan had speculated.

Even Marion expressed surprise at the turn of events. When she learned that Malfoy had all but given Daphne an ultimatum and was planning on doing the same with the rest of Slytherin, some of her normal arrogance was replaced with a sense of alarm. "You don't think he'd do the same to me?" she all but gasped.

Mark bit his tongue and thankfully Tristan was there to be diplomatic. "Well Marion, look around. It's only a matter of time before he comes for you. Your name wasn't on the list for a reason."

Marion recoiled at the idea and the look of alarm only increased on her face. She struggled to find a response, which was most unlike her.

Mark felt a little frustrated with her. "So Marion, given any thought to playing spy for us?"

She nervously brushed her brown hair back and made some weak excuse about having to be somewhere else, scarpering off without another word.

"What was that about?" Tristan asked, bewildered.

"She needs to get her priorities straight, that's what. Marion seems to think she can have it both ways," Mark snarled with irritation.

"She's got away with it so far."

"Yeah, well, looks like things are changing. She can't call us friends and then hang out with people who have loyalties to Malfoy. She has to figure out which side she is on."

"I'm sure that will be sooner than you think, mate."

During Potions class on Monday, Snape had not forgotten about Mark's threats against Malfoy. He was amazed to learn that even the Potions Master could spare some of his spite for a fellow Slytherin even when Harry Potter sat only yards away. And when Snape found it in himself to loudly berate Mark for some minor mix up with his ingredients, Mark couldn't help but notice Malfoy looking rather pleased with himself. A low anger began to boil up from within him and Mark wished that he could hex that smirk off of Malfoy's face.

After Snape filed past, turning his attention to the Gryffindors, Mark looked over to Daphne and saw that she was keeping her head down and doing her best to get the assignment done without incurring any of Snape's barbed criticism. He didn't think she had much to worry about since she was one of the better students in the class. Snape rarely had any reason to fault her.

Harrumph.

Potions class had put him in a nasty mood and later as he and Daphne headed towards the Great Hall for lunch, Mark was reminded of his nascent romance with Zacharias Smith when he spotted the blond Hufflepuff from the other end of the hallway. A slow grin spread across Mark's face and his bad temper all but vanished.

Daphne must have followed his gaze. "Fine, go to him," she said disdainfully. "You can find me at lunch after your little rendezvous. I expect details by the way."

Mark winked at her and called out, "You're a doll," as he scrambled off so that he could catch up with Zacharias before he disappeared in the crowd. "Hi there," Mark said with a smirk, sauntering next to the Hufflepuff.

"Oh hi, Mark," Zacharias replied and Mark couldn't help but notice that the Hufflepuff looked rather surprised to see him, if not a little uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?" he asked as a sea of students pushed past them on their way for the Great Hall.

Zacharias looked anxiously around him and Mark got the distinct impression that he didn't want to be seen with him. "Let's go up to the first floor."

Following closely up the staircase, Mark couldn't help but watch his agile movements as they proceeded to the first floor. Their relationship had been casual--if you could call it a relationship--consisting of a half dozen encounters over four weeks. Mark honestly wasn't expecting much other than a nice snogging session, but now alone, Zacharias seemed anxious and ill at ease. "What is it?" Mark asked, trying not to sound too anxious himself.

"Mark, we need to talk."

The words hit him like a Stunner. He thought back to their encounter in the hall just minutes before and suddenly everything became quite clear. "You don't want to be seen with me!" he blurted out in irritation.

Zacharias's uneasy silence confirmed this. Normally he was rather aggressive--a quality that Mark couldn't help but be attracted to--but now he could see that Zacharias looked nervous instead. "Mark," the Hufflepuff began, "I just want you to know that I really like you--"

"But?" There was always a "but". Mark could feel his irritation giving way to anger.

"But . . . it's just that, well, I'm involved in this thing that you wouldn't understand and, you know, you're in Slytherin . . ."

He couldn't believe his ears. Was Zacharias really trying to say that he couldn't be seen with someone from Slytherin? Mark suddenly felt very naïve. "Are you trying to tell me you don't have the bollocks to hang around a Slytherin student?"

Zacharias cooled at Mark's verbal onslaught but said nothing.

"I can't believe you! That's like Malfoy saying that he can't be seen with a Muggle born!" For a moment he cursed his luck at being sorted into Slytherin in the first place.

Zacharias didn't take to kindly to being compared with Malfoy. Looking very cross, his upturned nose swung up indignantly as he sneered. He began say something in defense when Peeves, always with the great timing, floated in with a cackle. "Ooooh. A fight!" Peeves was about to throw a chair at them when Mark flashed Zacharias a very nasty look and stormed off in a huff.

He thought about stomping back to Slytherin and skiving off Defense Against the Dark Arts because he was in such a black mood, but instead he headed back down towards the Great Hall where he knew he'd find Daphne at lunch. When he slumped down next to her, both she and Tristan looked at him in alarm.

"Blondie?" Tristan asked with concern.

"This time it's another blond," Mark replied scathingly as he thought back to what Zacharias had said and not said.

Daphne gave him a sympathetic look and seemed to immediately understand that his anger could only have come from his encounter with Zacharias without him having to say so. Tristan still looked at him expectantly, but finally dropped it when it became clear that Mark wasn't in the mood to elaborate.

"It was Zacharias Smith, wasn't it?" she asked quietly as they headed off for Umbridge's class.

Mark uttered a few choice rude words before saying, "I'm finished with him."

She looked like she was about to question him further, but suddenly thought better of it. Good, Mark thought. He really didn't want to talk about it--even to Daphne. Though when she patted him sympathetically on the arm, he did feel a little mollified. She had an uncanny ability to get him to calm down. As they sat down for the lesson, he tried to unsuccessfully put Zacharias out of his mind.

Staring dazedly into the roaring fire of the ornate Slytherin fireplace, Mark could feel himself starting to doze off. It was quite late and he had promised to sit up with Daphne as she finished her work so she wouldn't have to be alone--Tristan and Marion had long since gone to bed. He was also trying not to think too much of Zacharias, the sting of rejection still quite acute after a week.

Suddenly Daphne's voice punctured the thin veil of his sleep. "Mark, are you awake."

"Mmmmm," he replied half asleep.

"Tell me about your summer."

His eyes moved groggily from the fire to Daphne. Her small frame shifted into focus and he could see that she had set down her text and was staring at him. The request seemed out of the blue. "What about it?" Mark replied with a yawn. Why was she asking after two months?

Daphne looked haggard--the effects of the incident with Malfoy still visible. It then became clear that she probably wanted to think about anything but Malfoy. "I was just thinking," she continued. "You came back different and I'm a little envious."

Not having the luxury of seeing himself from the viewpoint of others, he could at least agree with Daphne because he felt different. Mark had never seemed more alive as he had in that month and a half, curled up in his cousin Anna's hammock overlooking the sun soaked hills of Provence and seeing the world as if for the first time.

It hadn't been easy adjusting to life outside of the wizarding world--everything was frustratingly slower for one thing. That said, Muggles were nothing like the stereotypes his family had taught him, especially Anna's husband, Jean-Pierre. He proved to be one of the most fascinating people he had ever met, shattering whatever of misconceptions Mark had of the non-wizarding world and it wasn't until then that Mark realized just how much his family had nearly suffocated him with their notions of superiority and blood purity. Finally outside of the auspices of his parents, he in turn gained an ease of self that he had never had.

Mark consciously hadn't discussed his summer with Daphne in depth. Not only was he still trying to understand the importance of that time spent with his cousin, he just assumed that Daphne wouldn't understand a world so far removed from the one she knew. He had long since got the impression that Daphne's mother Eurydice kept her quite sheltered. He also hadn't shared too much because he was having a difficult time trying to convey what it felt like to have the existence of a family member kept a total secret. Up until his great-uncle Reginald's funeral two years previous, Mark never knew that he had a cousin named Anna, much less a cousin who was a Squib. It was as much a surprise to him to see her as it was to the rest of the family, who had gone to great lengths to hide her existence. That newfound knowledge had done a great deal to paint his family darker than he had ever known them.

"I suppose I learned that there is life out there beyond my family and beyond the magical world," he finally answered. "I realized I had options. Does that make sense?"

Daphne made a face that signaled that it didn't.

Mark sighed and quietly explained everything that he had held back from her. She sat in rapt attention as he explained the desperate note he wrote to his cousin begging for a place to stay once he learned that his parents had offered him up to Lucius Malfoy to become a Death Eater. "It probably sounds daft, but I had to get out of the wizard world and away from anything having to do with the Dark Lord. Anna had given me a standing invitation to come down to Provence and I took her up on it."

"It's like the way I feel right now," she said. "There's nothing I want more than to leave this place. I can barely think knowing that Malfoy is just waiting to have another go at me."

"Maybe you should do what you have always been threatening to do and go find the Sorting Hat and try again." He couldn't believe that he was encouraging her to leave, but he knew just how miserable she was in Slytherin, especially in light of Malfoy's thinly veiled ultimatum. She had been fantasizing about getting resorted ever since me met her. He also had to admit that the thought of doing the same was growing on him given Zacharias's pointed remark that he couldn't be seen with a Slytherin.

Daphne perked up a little at the mention that she could get sorted out, but soon she was back to looking sullen. "My family . . . ."

Mark had a feeling that both their respective families wouldn't take to kindly to the notion of their children anywhere but in Slytherin. He had centuries of tradition and duty complicating things and no doubt this was the very thing that Daphne had alluded to. The crestfallen look on her face hinted that she was probably thinking that she would never be able to find herself outside the Gordon family.