Dear Diary

October 15th, 1999

Dear Diary,

That sounds bloody ridiculous. Who honestly addresses the damn book? What moronic muggle conjured up that brilliant idea? I suppose it gives the entries a more personnal feel, or some such rubbish. I'd ask the psychiatrist, but I've no interest in hearing another two hour monologue on the joys of keeping a journal. If she says I'm to address the damn book, then I'll address the damn book. Just a few months of this and I'll never have to touch a diary again. If I'm lucky, this one will turn out to be possessed and I'll have my soul sucked from my body before then.

Well, I'm officially on probation from Azkaban due to services rendered in the war for the good of the Ministry. I believe someone, Potter probably, has taken it upon themselves to make me as miserable as possible during this time. My current project involves slave manual labor, which no Malfoy has honestly been suited for. The task is to help construct a shelter for children who lost their families during the war. And I'm not allowed a wand.

The work itself might actually almost pass for bearable if my supervisors were anyone other than who they are. I swear, Weasley and Granger live to torment me. Worse yet, they volunteered to do this out of their own free will. Nutters, the both of them. At least they're no longer seeing each other. The arguing I can take. If they start flirting I think I'll be physically ill.

Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy

October 17th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I think I'm going to die here. My meals can hardly be considered palatable by anyone's standards. (The fact that Weasley digs into them with great abandon only attests to this.) My whole body is sore. Tomorrow morning I probably won't be able to move, and then Granger and Weasley will laugh at me and make some insufferable comment concerning my upbringing. Oh, how I loathe them.

There is a blister in between the two smallest toes on my right foot. You'd think it could have at least had the dignity to place itself somewhere less uncomfortable. Not that it will matter in the long run. I'm sure before this is through both of my feet will be nothing but blisters. Oh that such beautiful feet should have to endure such torment. Someone should write a ballad on the lamentations of my feet. It would bring grown men to tears, I gaurantee it.

Bother. I'm writing nonsense. Not that this diary buisiness isn't already nonsense.

Yours most painfully,
Draco Malfoy

October 18th, 1999

Dear Diary,

How many Weasleys does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

Answer: None, because they'll make me do it, after they broke the damn thing to begin with!

Someone would find that funny, I'm sure. Probably Granger, as the muggleborn twat was giggling in this entirely too irritable girlish manner the entire time. I'm sure Weasley being tall and clumsy enough to run into 3 uncovered light-bulbs in a row would be funny to anyone not responsible for the mess that followed. Bothersome little wretches, the both of them.

Irritated,
Draco Malfoy

October 20th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I tried getting out of working today by pretending I was ill. Unfortunately, instead of letting me off, Granger brought me some sort of tonic she said would "certainly fix me right up." It would have, I suppose, except that I obviously wasn't sick to begin with. Now I feel a bit light headed and not just a little nauseous. If I ask to get of duties now, though, it's going to be rather obvious that I was originally faking it, which I'm willing to bet she'd already wagered a guess on.

I'd ask you to remind me not to try and fake an illness in the future, but you're just an unhelpful book.

I think I'm about to spew again,
Draco Malfoy

October 25th, 1999

Dear Diary,

It's starting to get much colder.

There are heating charms placed inside the building structure, but they don't extend past the outer walls, and I can already see that working on the roof during later weeks will be unbearable. This means, of course, that I'll most likely be spending more time on it than necessary, what with the bloody heartless bastards I have for supervisors.

Chillingly (is that a word?),
Draco Malfoy

October 27th, 1999

Dear Diary,

Seven hours on a rooftop today. Seven. I can't feel my fingers.

Granger seems to have taken pity on me momentarily. I imagine my reddened nose and overall unhealthy appearance reminds her of a bloody damnable house-elf or something else she can knit scarves for and pretend she has some sort of bleeding heart, the pretentious bitch. I'm onto her little games. Feed him hot chocolate and wrap him up like a fucking doll and maybe he'll keep working without complaint, is that it? Well, screw you, Granger. I'm going to whine like a sick puppy every single minute I'm up there.

Hot chocolate is a wonderous thing, by the way. I'd share some with you, but - whoops... well, there you go.

(The signature is made incomprehensible by a large chocolate stain.)

October 29th, 1999

Dear Diary,

The sun was out a bit today. Finishing up the rooftop was much easier than working on it for the past couple of days has been, and when Granger offered me a coat I told her exactly where she could shove it. Oy, but that felt good.

She hasn't offered me anything else today either, but it was worth it just to see the look on her face.

Tomorrow we should be working completely on the interior of the building, which means I'll be back in close confines with the two arse-kissing good samaritans again. I don't think I'll be able to breathe through their saccarine melodrama.

Just,
Draco

October 30th, 1999

Dear Diary,

Weasley thinks I'm going to be working all day tomorrow.

Well, I've got some news for him - tomorrow's All Hallows, and I'm not working for shit. Put that in your pensieve, you freckled ogre.

Hmph,
Draco

October 31st, 1999

I fucking hate you, Weasley.

October 31st, 1999 - again

Dear Diary,

I don't recall ever telling Hermione Granger that I had a sweet tooth. Nevertheless, I found myself returning from a hard days work to find a basket of treats at the end of my cot, with a note of apology. Surprising, but I was deserving of it. At least someone around here is capable of being respectful of regular holiday traditions.

Well, technically, the card was from the both of them, but it was obvious all the effort had been Granger's. Weasley has no taste when it comes to candies.

And no. You can't have any.

Sticky fingered,
Draco

November 3rd, 1999

Dear Diary,

Granger didn't show up for work today. Weasley says she's home ill for the day, but I say that's rubbish. Avoiding work, more likely. Weasley certainly couldn't say no to her even if the whole performance was obviously just that - an act. He'd probably send her home early if she sneezed too loudly, the sap. She should be pulling her own weight around here, like I am. Why just the other day I was being sick all over the place and still I had to work. While it's true that this was due to having eaten too many candies all at once, the fact of the matter is that I was still ill. It's favouritism, that's what.

There's a rather nasty bug going around, I hear. It would be rather nasty if she'd caught it.

She'd better not pass it to me when she comes back.

Wishing I had the proper cold remedies,
Draco

November 5th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I think the cold went to Granger's head. She's been a right bitch all morning. Hasn't said as much as a proper greeting to me - only snapped at me once or twice. She's making more of a mess than she is getting any work done. Maybe it's her time of month or something equally as unpleasant.

I'll be working the basement today. Shame for Weasley there's currently only room for one.

The key is avoidance,
Draco

November 6th, 1999

Returning to my tent that evening found Hermione sitting cross-legged on top of the cot with my diary in her lap. I could merely stand dumbly as she looked up at me, then flipped to the next page without faltering. I was too dumbfounded to run over and snatch it from her, even though I desperately wanted to.

"Interesting how you talk to the book as if were actually listening to you," she remarked casually. "Is that part of your therapy also?"

I finally got a hold of myself after that, and two strides had me beside her. "What are you doing?"

"Obviously I'm reading your diary." She was so irritatingly smug. I just wanted to scratch the smile off her face, but while she had my book I didn't move. Then she tossed it to me, and I grabbed it up with far more enthusiasm than I should have, which only made her smile more.

"Why the fuck were you reading it, Granger?" I snapped, fuming. I know my face had gone red at this point.

She just shrugged, getting up and leaving my tent. "Research," she said on her way out.

Curse me for just standing there.

Dear Diary,

I'm a great prat. A really great prat. I'm a bloody irritating ferret and I deserve everything that's been shoved upon me. In fact, I think I've decided I need to work several more months on this building than scheduled - until my fingernails are ripped off from the

Fuck you, Granger.

November 7th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I should be able to report yesterday's offense as a violation of my privacy. Granger deserves punishment for what she did. This diary is a personnal effect of mine, and she had no right to be reading through it as if she had every right to it. I'm going to have to tell Weasley about what.... fuck it. He'll laugh at me.

I hate my life.

Draco

November 8th, 1999

Dear Diary,

Granger hasn't talked to me since I caught her snooping in my tent the other day.

I think she's purposefully avoiding me. As she should. I deserve at the very least an apology for her intrusion, if not more. If she thinks she can get out of an arguement with me like this, she's wrong. I'm going to sit her down, and I'm going to give her what for just as soon as I get the chance.

By Salazar, this is infuriating.
Draco

November 10th, 1999

Dear Diary,

We should be finishing up most of the inner structure of the building within the week. I've insisted on a light gray for the walls instead of the stark white in the plans. It's much easier on the eyes, and would suit the maroon carpeting much better. I swear I'm the only one here with any sense for color at all. If I left it to Weasley, the walls would be orange and the floor tiled in green. The man's a real case.

Granger's talking to me again, which is a relief. I plan on yelling at her the first chance I get. Just as soon as I'm out of Weasley's earshot. He was walking around with a crobar today, adjusting the pipelines...

Draco

November 13th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I didn't know Granger could cook.

She made some sort of stew this afternoon - said it would warm us up, as the temperature's been dropping quite swiftly. It did, too, and I suspect it must have been slightly enchanted, as the feeling lasted several hours. It made the day's work much easier in any case.

Carpeting also came today. I'm of the opinion that it's a bit too thick, but Granger assured us it's what we're looking for. All blame's on her if it ends up a mess.

Feeling toasty,
Draco

November 16th, 1999

Dear Diary,

It's fucking cold out. I'm refusing outside work until I'm allowed proper warming charms outside. I want a bubble of warmth at all times. Weasley's not entirely willing to comply. Amasingly enough, Granger's sitting this out with me. Her and her bleeding heart... I give it another hour at the most before he gives in. He's too damned soft sometimes.

Draco

November 17th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I tell you what - warming charms are the best charms ever created by wizard kind. You'd think I wasn't even working outside anymore.

Charm or no charm, though, the wind's starting to pick up. We might get snow as soon as a couple days from now, and if it's hard enough we'll have to move back inside. I hope we can get as much of our current project done before then. It would be a shame to leave the siding half completed.

Draco

November 19th, 1999

Dear Diary,

Snowed in today. And I mean that literally. We could barely get the front door open.

We've managed to get a working floo together, which has been wonderful for transporting small bits of supplies at a time. Unfortunately, I've been banned from using it myself, as both Weasley and Granger seem to think I'll try and use it as a viable escape route.

I don't deny the thought crossed my mind.

Draco

November 20th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I have a problem.

I'm not sure what to say about

There's something about

I'm having issues coming to terms with some unexpected thoughts I had today. More to come when I'm not wallowing in my own confusion.

Baffled,
Draco

November 21st, 1999

Dear Diary,

As I'm more coherent now, I'd like to note that I have no idea what I was saying yesterday, and I'm glad I didn't write anything further. Granger is a horrid little muggleborn bitch, and there's nothing more to add on the subject.

Draco

November 22nd, 1999

Dear Diary,

All right. I lied.

Truthfully, for the past couple nights I've been having rather disturbing dreams involving myself and Granger Hermione in positions of doing things that having rather graphic sex. There. I've said it.

Not only am I disturbed by this, but it has been causing me no end of irritation while working, and I'm afraid she might ask me something about why I'm distracted. No way in hell could I answer truthfully.

Horrified,
Draco

November 23rd, 1999

Dear Diary,

She's smiling at me way too fucking much. I can't stand it.

Draco

November 25th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I seem to have worked out things with whatever mental issue were causing me such discomfort over the past few days, and I must say I'm incredibly relieved. I don't think I even dreamt last night, which was bliss.

On an unrelated note, Weasley spent the day off with his parents, the lazy sod.

Weary,
Draco

November 30th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I've made my descision. I'm going to talk to Weasley about Hermione.

If there are no further entries following this one, you'll know that I have most likey been bludgeoned to death with some large heavy object.

Sincerely,
Draco

December 1st, 1999

Dear Diary,

Weasley believes I'm suffereing from a misplaced infatuation that stems from Hermione being the only female I've been in contant with for several weeks now. Well, he didn't say that in so many words, but that was the gist of his argument. He hasn't threatened to beat me with anything yet, but I did see him in a heated debate with the girl in question not too long after our discussion.

I found several copies of Playwizard on my cot today. I can only assume they're from him. Cheeky bastard.

Draco

December 3rd, 1999

Dear Diary,

I've been threatened with castration by one extremely annoyed red-headed man if I don't stop insisting upon being nice to him. I admit to finding this a bit humorous as I'm usually threatened for not being polite. Apparently, I lose either way now.

Point of the matter is, I still have over a month left assigned here with Hermione and Ronnald, and unless I can get the latter's approval, I see my chances of pursuing things with Hermione safely to be slim.

I did mention I was attempting that, didn't I?

Bother,
Draco

December 4th, 1999

Dear Diary,

Hermione is now obviously aware of my interests in her.

And she finds it amusing.

The wench.

December 6th, 1999

Dear Diary,

Note to self: Ron likes chess.

This is good. I can work with this. Now I only need to learn how to play chess and we'll be cooking.

Hermione tried to teach me the basics during our lunch break this afternoon. It's so bloody confusing. The queens should just duke it out in the center of the board and be damned with all the other pieces. That would make for an entertaining game, I think. None of this "knight moves two and over one" hogwash. Who designed this game?

Knight takes pawn!
Draco

December 8th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I just had my arse brutally handed to me five times today while playing chess with Ron. At least it seemed to improve the berk's spirits. What a simpleton!

Bringing up the subject of Hermione again didn't prove all too successful, however. He avoided it like the plague.

I think he's on to me.

Draco

December 9th, 1999

Dear Diary,

I may be making progress. Ron used the words "good" "job" and "mate" all strung together in one phrase - while addressing me in a non-sarcastic manner, even. I feel like I should be getting a medal in the mail any day now. Above and beyond the call of duty - that's me.

Your Esteemed,
Draco

December 12th, 1999

Dear Diary,

After many grueling days of relentless inner turmoil, I have made a propsition to Hermione... and she has accepted. Tomorrow evening we go for a walk.

Yes, I know. I'm working in baby steps. This is a very awkward thing for me. I'm still not entirely sure how this whole ordeal came across.

Damn it all. I'm a Malfoy! I should be in charge of this fucking situation.

Fuming expectantly,
Draco

December 13th, 1999

It seemed like I should have had something more proper to wear for the occasion. However, having a good percentage of one's possessions repossessed by the Ministry coupled with my current working environment didn't leave me with many options. Though perhaps what I'd found would put her more at ease, as I was currently wearing almost all muggle attire. It was oddly comfortable, and warmer than the lighter robe I'd been wearing prior.

She did appear rather baffled when she saw me, as if not even certain it was really me. I gave her a wave, and she approached me warily, settling once she was certain of my identity. "The other boss isn't waiting behind the corner to pounce on me, is he?" I asked casually.

Hermione laughed then, shaking her head. "Ron's invited Harry over for some company." I made a face at this but she went on anyway. "I think he's still a bit put off. How's your eye, by the way?"

That reminder I didn't need. I'd let slip to Ron my plans for that evening, and we'd had a bit of an arguement about it. Thankfully he seemed to have gotten over the initial shock. However, that didn't change the fact that my left eye now had a nice dark bruise around it. "The swelling's gone down," I muttered.

"He's actually starting to like you, you know." Hermione slipped two gloved hands into the pockets of her coat as a bit of a breeze picked up and caused us both to shiver.

"Well, you know how charming I can be." I winked, and was rewarded with an eye roll. It had begun snowing lightly just a couple minutes before she had arrived, and I glanced down the darkened streets with a sigh. "It looks like it's going to be picking up soon," I cautioned. "You do still want to walk with me?"

In response, she stepped in closer and grasped my arm in one of hers. "Of course." A smile. "That just means we'll have to walk closer, doesn't it?"

I honestly don't know how I made it through the evening.

Dear Diary,

Life is great.

Sincerely yours,
Draco Malfoy