Draco's Diary

Sunday

Apparently, recording one's life in a diary such as this is a worthwhile pursuit for a Malfoy. Father tells me that if I am to achieve my goals I must keep some track of said goals, write down my evil plans (And I must tell you I have several of these plans) then carry them out one by one until I can hold everything I ever wanted in the palm of my hand.
My father does go on a bit doesn't he? I mean, does he honestly expect me to hold the dead bodies of Potter, Weasley, Granger and god knows who else in the palm of my hand? I suppose it was simply a figure of speech but honestly, the man does take his whole 'evil' thing a bit seriously.

But here I am anyway, writing down my hopes and dreams (...or should I say - nightmares?) in this diary. I really don't know what I will do if anyone discovers that I keep a diary, it really is such a girly thing to do. However, I will not be using this diary to obsess over crushes (Malfoy's do NOT have crushes), whine about whatever comes to mind or detail every miniscule detail of my life (why girls find these things necessary when keeping a diary I do not know). No. I will use it strictly for... business.

DRACO MALFOY'S GOALS FOR THE POSSIBLY NOT SO NEAR BUT NOT ENTIRELY DISTANT FUTURE

No. Scratch that.

DRACO MALFOY'S (PLAIN AND SIMPLE) GOALS

Monday

Seeing my goals in writing does bring a sick sense of pleasure to my heart. My new slogan is "Can't wait to kill Potter." Ahhh let me list the ways in which I will end him (which I inevitably will do, unless Lord Voldemort gets there first of course).

I would write more, I really would - but the more I write the harder it will be to choose Potter's demise when the time should finally present itself.

Tuesday

Today did not go well, and I am no closer to achieving any of my goals even though I gave potter and his little friends a good staring at during potions. To make matters worse, the good for nothing red-headed Weasley WEED of a girl, Genny or whatever her name is, had the nerve to bump into me today and knock my books everywhere! I mean honestly, I'm hardly the sort of person one bumps into am I?? The name Malfoy still strikes fear in the hearts of its enemies doesn't it? (Well, that's what Father tells me but I'm beginning to think he's getting a bit old and senile after his stupid advice about keeping a diary to achieve ones goals).

Perhaps I'm losing my touch? I used to be able to set the firsties shivering with a single sneer - being a big, nasty third year (emphasis on the nasty) definitely has its advantages. I must remind myself to see if I still have the same effect on them. If not, I may have to resort to violence or malicious behavior (oh goodie!).

Apart from the disturbing encounter with the Weasley girl, I was yelled at during transfiguration with the Ravenclaws when the worm I was meant to be turning into wool suddenly shot up at the ceiling and stuck there. My only comfort is that Filch will have a hard time scraping the wormguts off the roof.

My day did not improve - mostly due to the fact that all I have is Crabbe and Goyle for company. Sure, they look impressive, but try having a conversation with one, all they can manage is to smile and nod and occasionally grunt.

I occasionally engage in conversation with Parkinson, but she isn't much of a conversationalist either (and she talks a lot better than she kisses, so that says something doesn't it?). Talking to her is similar to reading Witch Weekly (which is not one of my favourite pastimes as you may have guessed) - all she can manage is useless gossip. And I talk less and less to Zabini, as I suspect he is gay and might fancy me (really, who can blame him?).

My only intelligent friend is Draco Juniour - the teddy bear I have had since birth. I regularly cast disillusionment charms on him to assure that he is not discovered by no one (but I have a suspicion that Crabbe has spotted him once before at least). When he is not disillusioned, however, he is about 30cms tall and has one eye missing - which just adds to his evil demeanor.

Wednesday

Had Quidditch training this afternoon. I sometimes wonder why I bother, after all - Potter usually manages to steal the cup from under our noses. It is at times like these that I feel I must add to my list of ways to end Potter.

Thursday

It has come to my attention that the Weasley girl has been following me around. I think she is a spy sent by Potter, Granger and the Weasel. I will have to monitor her activities.

12:01 (Lunch) She is sitting at the Gryffindor table, with her insufferable companions. She looks at me. Twice.

12:04 (Still Lunch) Falls off her chair at something 'funny' the weasel-twins said. I don't see why everyone thinks they're so great - they aren't even that funny in my opinion. I mean, how much wit do you have to have to blow up a toilet? (Yeah, I heard they actually did that, the stupid prats. It would have been far funnier if Potter had been sitting on it at the time).

12:05 (Yes it's still Lunch and if I have to write it one more time I'm going to snap my quill in half and stab Potters eyes out with the ends) I'm watching her reflection in Goyle's goblet and she is definitely watching. I wonder what Potter and his little friends have put her up to. Something sinister I am sure.

Friday

The strangest thing happened today. Parkinson and I were erm... at it - shall we say - in an empty classroom at the time. I have to say, I hope all girls don't kiss like her. She tends to get off course and ends up trying to eat me like one of Fortescue's ice-creams. It's actually quite disturbing.
Anyway, we were... well you know... (I had nothing better to do at the time, and I am still trying to clue Zabini in on the fact that I am straight and will not go out with him). And suddenly, there was chalk dust everywhere! I suspect it was Peeves, but someone had managed to charm a blackboard duster to repeatedly hit Parkinson in the head. Apart from the fact that it saved me from the impending danger of her jaws, it was quite hilarious.

She promptly ran out of the room screaming that she needed to wash her hair. In my opinion her hair looks like a dead animal no matter what she does with it, but for hygienic purposes, washing it can't be a bad thing.

I thought I could hear someone laughing, and I would say that it might have been my imagination, but Malfoy's (as I am told) do not have imaginations.

Saturday

As much as I hate sunshine and that sort of thing, I could not pass up the opportunity of possibly seeing the pestilence that is the Weasley twins meet their ends.
They had a bet with one of their equally pestilential friends for ten galleons to swim a length of the lake. I could have done it with my eyes closed - the squid didn't even make an appearance, although there was one glorious moment where one of them (I don't really care which) was nearly drowned by a Grindylow. Nearly.

Sunday

Today was quite pleasant. I yelled at 2 first years (and am happy to say that I still have the effect on them that I mentioned in Tuesday's entry) then I made 3 snide remarks to Potter and his sidekicks (or rather, dropkicks) and I received a parcel of homemade muffins from mother.

What better way to end the week than eating muffins while deciding the fates of Goodie-Goodie-Granger and The Weasel?

Well, that took a load off. I don't know how many more murderous impulses I can keep in check. Now...where did those muffins get to?