The Two-Way Diaries

Hermione Granger walked alone along the corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had just finished returning her books from the library, along with checking out quite a few more. After all, it was Christmas holiday; she had to do some reading.

She was nearly to the Girl's dormitory when she tripped over her feet, causing her to loose her balance and send her falling onto the floor, along with her books.

Ruffled and slightly embarrassed, she lifted herself off of the stone ground and slowly began picking up her books.

She turned around, looking for any more books she might've dropped behind her. Picking up a small book with black leather binding, she noticed the book did not belong to her.

Odd, she concluded, as she opened the cover looking for a name.

No writing was in the journal, or a name.

She stared at it in amazement as she watched gold letters appearing on the inside cover.

"This Diary Now Belongs To: Miss Hermione Granger."

Hermione closed the cover and opened it up again, hoping that the magically appearing letters had disappeared. The gold introduction was still there.

Giving in to her tired eyes and even curiosity, she put it in the pile of her library books and continued down the corridor.

The next morning, Hermione sat on her bed, running a hairbrush through her curly, brown hair and looking at the Diary she had found the night before.

I could write in it, she thought to herself. It says it does belong to me.

Determining that she was going to bring it with her and think about the idea, she picked up her school bag and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

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"Draco, come downstairs! I have something to give you!" Narcissa Malfoy yelled to her son.

Her snobby, white blonde haired son skulked down the stairs of Malfoy Manor, obviously not wanting to deal with his mother.

"What is it, Mother? I'm busy." He said firmly, annoyed.

She walked over to him, holding a black-leathered journal. "This belonged to your grandfather, Draco, and I'm supposed to give this on to you after we discovered it in his will."

She handed it to him. He did not reach for it, but stared at it in disgust.

"Like I'm supposed to write in that thing? I'm not a girl, Mother! I don't write in diaries."

"I know, Draccy, I'm just supposed to give it to you. Do what you will with it."

Draco took it forcefully from her hand and turned on his heel to go back upstairs.

He walked up the steps, careless to what he was holding.

He dragged his feet back into his room and tossed the Diary aside onto the bed and continued doing his essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Why would I want to write in a stupid Diary, anyways? He thought. I'm not going to write in that ugly old thing, or whatever my grandfather intended for me to do.