17 April 1991
To Draco S. Malfoy, in honour of his eleventh birthday.
Use it well.
Love, Maman
18 April 1991
I think this journal is silly, but as Maman gave it to me, I´ll at
least attempt to write in it.
My cousin came to visit today--Pansy Parkinson, that is. She wasn´t
able to make it to my birthday party yesterday. Not that she missed much.
It was mostly business acquaintances of Father´s that came. Crabbe and
Goyle were there, but they don´t really count.
Dobby snuck me a present after I was supposed to be in bed. It´s a
stuffed animal of some sort (I can´t tell if it´s a dog or a fox or what)
with long silvery fur. I have to keep it hidden, or else Father might take
it away. He says that boys--especially Malfoy boys--don´t need things as
girly and sentimental as stuffed toys.
Well, it´s bedtime now. I guess I´d better pretend to sleep.
D. S. Malfoy
30 April 1991
Father took me with him to London today. It´s the first time I´ve been
allowed to go with him there, and it was very noisy! Really, how can
Muggles stand all that noise, all those smells, all those outrageous
colours? I don´t understand how it is they think we dress funny. I thought
that they looked much more odd than we did. Of course, Father made me wear
Muggle clothes, but they looked much better than what I saw on other
children there. Father always makes sure that I wear the best.
I think Father´s business friends are quite boring, though, always
talking about dark and morbid things. I´m surprised that any of them know
how to smile, what with the way they carry on about death and destruction
and whatnot. Father says that I´m just too young to understand, but...well,
I don´t know. Something just doesn´t seem quite right with Father lately.
I even managed to brew the Polyjuice Potion that Uncle Snape suggested I
try from the book he sent (he said that it´s a fairly hard potion for
young wizards to brew), but Father didn´t seem to care.
I wish I knew why all of the adults were in such a
pissy bad mood.
D. S. Malfoy
12 May 1991
I´m really surprised that I´ve managed to write in this thing so
often. I guess it´s not really that bad.
Father and Maman got into another fight this morning; Maman even threw
the porridge at him. Father looked really funny with porridge dripping
down his face, but I think he was quite mad (his face was turning purple).
Then they started shouting all over again. I ran from the room and hid so
that I could listen, but now I´m really confused.
They were fighting over Harry Potter.
My first year of Hogwarts is due to start on September 1, and I´m
rather excited about it. Well, as excited as a Malfoy is allowed to be,
that is. But Maman and Father´s arguing this morning made me mad. Why
Harry Potter? Why does everyone whisper about him? His name makes some
people cringe in fear, others shout in joy.
But I´ve never met him, so who is he, exactly?
Oh, I know that he´s the Boy Who Lived, the one who defeated
Volde--um, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (that looks rather
silly to put, but his real name makes people act weird). But the Potters
were once a prominent family, so why haven´t I met this kid? I asked Pansy
the other day if she´d ever met him. She just looked at me funny and asked
why she´d want to. (For the record, I think that Pansy´s gotten weird
lately. I saw her kissing Crabbe, which is just gross. I mean, honestly!)
He´d be our age, I think. And though his mother was from a Muggle
family (Father said bad things about it this morning--that´s when Maman
threw the porridge), and though she was in Gryffindor House, she was
Maman´s friend so she couldn´t have been that bad. And, so, it only stands
to reason that her son would be powerful too.
If I´ve never met him, I wonder...I wonder if he´s lonely. Crabbe and
Goyle can´t seem to find a single thought between them, and Pansy´s more
interested in makeup and dresses lately (Yuck!!). Maybe...maybe he would be
powerful enough to be my wizarding partner. His mum was Maman´s wizarding
partner their last two years of school--real good in charms, Mother said.
I´m good at potions and herbology. Father says it´s nothing to brag about,
but I haven´t really shown big talent in anything else (I don´t consider
the Bad Spells a talent!)
Hmmm, this has gotten rather long. I suppose I should go to bed and
write more later.
D. S. Malfoy
2 June 1991
Uncle Snape visited the Manor today. He was impressed with the
Polyjuice Potion, as well as the Veritaserum that I made. At least
someone other than Maman was impressed with me. I wish Father would
be proud of my efforts...
I really like Uncle Snape. I want to get into Slytherin House, not
just because it was Maman and Father´s House, but also because Uncle Snape
is the head of it. It´d be so...um, cool to learn from Uncle Snape all the
time. (Cool is such a Muggle word, but it´s kind of fun to use.)
Uncle Snape left before Father returned from the Governor´s meeting at
the Ministry for Magic. He said that Father probably wouldn´t want to see
him any time soon, and Maman frowned when the said that. Why is it that
the adults all know what´s going on and I don´t? Even Uncle Snape and
Maman were arguing about Harry Potter!
Where the bloody hell is Harry Potter?
...
It´s funny that this whole thing has me so worked up. Pansy said that
I need to get out more, to meet more witches and wizards our age. Pansy´s
parents take her everywhere with them, and she´s gotten to meet a lot more
people than I have. I wish that Maman wasn´t so protective of me. I love
her a lot, but...
But I´m lonely.
D. S. Malfoy
30 July 1991
I think that Maman has gone loopy.
She didn´t come down to breakfast, so I asked Dobby if she was still
in her room. (Father is away in Paris, by the way.) He said that she was,
so I went to her apartments to make sure she was all right (after stopping
Dobby from ironing his hands--I told him that Maman wouldn´t be offended
that breakfast had gone cold, unlike Father...) When I got up there, I found
her looking through an old photo album and listening to some old Muggle
record. She was kind of humming under her breath (it didn´t go with the
record). And she was crying a bit, too.
I´ve never seen Maman cry before.
I hesitated at first going in. But then I grabbed courage from
somewhere (I still don´t want to be in Gryffindor, though), and asked her
if she was all right. She turned after a moment and laughed, wiping her
eyes. All she said was, "It´s his birthday tomorrow."
She ignored me after that, and I left her apartments really confused.
Whose birthday is it tomorrow, I wonder? And why does thinking about it
make her cry?
D. S. Malfoy
31 July 1991
Well, Father´s back from Paris and we went to London today to get my
school supplies. We made a family trip out of it (Father had to get some
things from Knockturn Alley as well), and I was both nervous and excited.
I saw Pansy, of course, and recognised a few other associates of Father´s
who seemed to have children in tow.
Anyway, I met this boy today. It was in Madam Malkin´s, a highly
renowned seamstress´ shop, that I saw him. He was wearing Muggle clothes
that were far too big for him (you probably could have fit half a
Quidditch team in them), and glasses that were held together with
something that looked like Spellotape but wasn´t. He had black hair that
seemed to stick up in all directions, like he´d just pulled a hat off and
hadn´t time to flatten his hair. But what was really interesting were his
eyes. I´ve never really seen green eyes before, and his eyes were not only
green, they were a colour that reminded me of an experiment I´d made with
an acrylic paint set, years ago. I mixed Viridian Green with smaller
amounts of Phthalocyanine Blue and Sap Green, throwing in the barest hints
of Violet and Hansa Yellow. I hadn´t mixed in the latter two colours very
well (they were kind of speckley), but the mixture had looked so beautiful
that I´d simply pressed the pallet to paper and left it to dry. I still
have it somewhere, I think.
I saw a lot of things in his eyes, and I think I finally understand
what Maman means when she says that eyes are the window to the soul. The
boy was scared and nervous, and very, very lonely. But he was also
excited, and despite all of those other emotions that flitted about like
mad mail owls, he seemed happy in a way--like when you´ve done something
bad, but you don´t really care because you´ve enjoyed yourself.
However, when I tried to talk to him, everything seemed to come out
wrong. I sort of talked about it with Maman, and she said I´m just
"socially stunted" because I haven´t had a lot of exposure to children my
own age. I wanted to say bullocks to that, but I didn´t feel like getting
my mouth washed out with soap.
To make matters worse, the Hogwarts´ groundskeeper (apparently his
escort) scared me almost witless. I´d heard talk that he was big and
wild-looking, but I´d thought it was just talk. And the boy seemed to get
offended with every word I said, so eventually I mumbled the inane "I´ll
see you at Hogwarts" and turned away.
I hope I see him on the train, though, so I can apologise. Maybe we
could still be friends--he seems a lot like me in some ways.
Draco
D. S. Malfoy
1 September 1991
I´m learning to hate my father--and that doesn´t sit very well with me.
How can you hate someone whose approval you crave so badly? He wants me to
hate Harry Potter, and I want Harry Potter to be my friend.
Let me explain, since I´m sure this all seems very confusing. The boy
that I saw in Diagon Alley a month ago, the one whose eyes seemed
so...intriguing, is apparently Harry Potter. I was shocked when Pansy told
me, unable, at first, to even think straight.
And, of course, I didn´t bother to wait for clear thought to return
before I went charging off down the corridor with Crabbe and Goyle
trailing dutifully at my heels (really, they´re better than the wolfhounds
at keeping track of a person). If anything, I managed to botch things more
than I did a month ago. It wasn´t entirely my fault, though. I just
got so mad when that Weasley brat laughed at my name. I know that Malfoy
is an odd sounding name in this part of the country, but I hadn´t thought
it that funny. So, as usual, I let my temper get the best of me and
did a spectacular job of opening my mouth and inserting my foot. Really,
Maman would have smacked me, had she been there. But what really hurt was
that Harry turned down my offer of friendship so coolly, so calmly--and in
favour of a person who could wind up getting him killed. Oh, I´ve heard
what Father´s said about the Weasleys; he´s out to get their father in a
bad way.
I got into Slytherin House, and I´m happy about that. Uncle Snape
congratulated me after the Welcoming Feast, which made me feel a little
bit better. The Slytherin Ghost, the Bloody Baron, sat by me at dinner.
He´s really disturbing, dripping silvery blood everywhere, but at least
Peeves is afraid of him. Uncle Snape said the story of Peeves and the
Bloody Baron is long and interesting, and that he´d tell it to me some
day.
Harry ended up in Gryffindor (of course, both of his parents were in
there). I was a little surprised, since I´ve heard rumour that he´s had
family in Slytherin before Slytherin, but... Well, it might sound funny, but
I think I heard him muttering that he didn´t want to be in Slytherin. I
can only imagine what kind of things he´s been told about our House. I
shudder to think what the other Houses say about us in their fireside
conversations.
Things are stirring that I´m not sure I want to be a part of. Things
are moving in ways I´m not sure I want them to. I feel as though I´m being
drawn into something that´s going to change my life, and not necessarily
for the better. As a matter of fact, I think I´m being pulled in to
something that might kill me.
...Oh, hell, that´s a little too melodramatic, even for me. That´s it; I
need to go to bed. I´ll try and write more later, when I´m thinking a bit
more clearly.
D. S. Malfoy
17 September 1991
Looking back on my last entry, I´m starting to think I wasn´t as tired
as I thought I was.
School´s in full session now, and my class load is weighing me down a
bit. Herbology and Potions are a breeze, naturally, but Charms is a bit
harder. The funny thing, though, is Harry. I watch him a lot (so far we´re
only in Potions and Charms together), and I´ve begun to notice a
disturbing trend: Harry has the ability to turn his magic off. I know that
doesn´t make a lot of sense, but if he feels that he´s being pushed too
far, if things aren´t quite going right, all sense of magic about him
disappears. It´s a weird phenomenon that I´d like to know more about, but
so far I´ve been unable to do any research. Wish Uncle would lay off the
Potions´ homework for a bit...
I received a letter from Father as well, and his words made me uneasy.
He wants me to alienate Harry from his friends and his House, to make him
as isolated as possible. I´m not sure why, exactly, but Father made
certain to paint a rather nasty picture of Harry and his deceased parents.
Maman must not know that Father sent this to me, or she´d have chewed him
out and sent a follow-up letter.
I don´t know what to do, anymore. I feel so torn, between Maman and
Father, between what they want and what I want. It all goes back to what I
said the night after the Sorting Ceremony. I´m being pulled into something
big, here, and I´ve got not control over it.
I just hope I figure out something quickly. Otherwise I might
be doing poorly in more than Charms; I can´t remember the last time I had
a decent night´s sleep.
D. S. Malfoy
4 October 1991
I think I´m beginning to get it.
I was reading my Defence Against the Dark Arts book when it dawned on
me (Quirrell never uses the book, but it´s an interesting read) what
exactly it is I have to do.
I have to be Harry´s foil.
It´s so simple, so brilliant, that I can´t believe it´s taken me a
month to figure out. I´m perfect for the job, really. He already hates me,
so no-one will even suspect what I´m doing, least of all him. I already
tout my pureblood status, my Father´s connections in the Ministry and
abroad, my talent in Potions... Really, it won´t take much more work to
begin making Harry wish me dead. Well, he probably already does that (I´ve
seen the look in his eyes), but at least now everyone else will know it as
well.
Some days I wonder how he´s managed to make it this far alive. He´s
reckless in his curiosity, too brave for his own good. Seriously, if
anything kills him, it´s not going to be the Dark Lord, it´s going to be
himself. I´ve seen him and Weasley, sneaking through the halls late at
night...no wonder I have nightmares when I return to Slytherin House (when I
manage to sleep, that is). He would make a saint pull their hair out in
exasperation before too long.
Like I said, I know what I need to do, now. All I have left to figure
out is how to go about doing it without being obvious.
D. S. Malfoy
17 October 1991
I received a message from Father today. Uriel was very distressed at
having to bear the news (he knew it would upset me), so I made sure to
tell him that it wasn´t his fault before having him return to the Owlery.
This business Father´s in...that he and Maman are in... It´s bad, I know it
is. And it´s related to Voldemort.
I wish I were older, wiser. Things would come to me easier, then. I´d
know by now how to get Harry Potter to leave, if I was older and smarter.
I have no-one to talk to, no-one to confide in: Pansy would tell me I was
being stupid, and I can´t even begin to think what Uncle would say.
I wish I could talk to Maman about this, but I´m so afraid...so afraid
that if I tell someone of my plans, I´ll only get him killed faster.
Life really, really sucks.
Draco
31 October 1991
Someone let a troll into Hogwarts tonight. I have a feeling that it
has something to do with the business that Father´s involved in, but I
have no way of proving it. And Crabbe and Goyle have been increasingly
annoying of late. I think their watching me, but I´m not sure why.
Hopefully Father hasn´t begun to suspect--I´d like to think I´m a much
better actor than that.
Uncle Snape told me that Harry and Weasley managed to take out the
troll. Apparently it had cornered a Gryffindor witch in the girls´
bathroom, and they´d rushed in to save her. How very Gryffindor of them;
the bloody prats probably don´t even realise that they nearly lost their
lives. I think that Uncle knows some of what´s going on as well; his leg
was rather banged up with blood on his trousers, but he wouldn´t let me
take care of it--said that it was business I was better off not getting
involved in.
I wish that Maman would write back. I´m awfully lonely, and Uriel
isn´t much for company. Dobby sent yet another box of sweets from home,
but my stomach was too much in knots to eat. I gave it all to Pansy and
her friends instead.
I don´t know what to do anymore. Father wants me to make Harry´s life
a living hell. Of course, I seem to be unintentionally doing a remarkably
good job at that. Maybe...maybe that´s the point. Maybe that´s my purpose in
all of this, the ultimate goal of being his foil. I´m here to make sure
that Harry Potter hates life at Hogwarts more than anything, so that he´ll
leave.
So that he´ll live.
Fuck, l Life sucks.
Malfoy
6 November 1991
I think that Uncle might suspect something. Actually, I´m certain he
suspects something, but he has yet to speak of it. And I don´t know what
I´d say if he accused me. Could I be honest with him? Probably not; I can
barely be honest with myself.
Uriel brought back a reply from Maman. It seems I´ll be allowed to
return home for Christmas, but I´m a little apprehensive. I want to see
Maman and Father...but...
I hate these thoughts of mine. I´m a traitor to my family, to
everything I was raised to believe in, but I can´t help it. Despite all my
doubts, all my fears, I know that I´m doing what I´m supposed to, that I´m
fulfilling my ultimately hellish destiny.
Hey, not everyone can say the Boy Who Lived loathes them, right? At
least I´ll go down in history with some sort of infamous notoriety.
D. S. Malfoy
25 December 1991
Quiet Christmases frighten me more than the loud ones. Apparently
Father and his friends decided to celebrate Christmas in Paris, at the
Malfoy Gardens. Maman, Dobby, and I were left behind to have Christmas to
ourselves. (I heard them arguing before he left, though; she wanted to go
to her mother´s for Christmas, but Father forbade it. I´ve never met my
grandmother before...)
I received the usual gifts from family friends: lavish clothing and
outrageous accessories, bits and baubles that most likely have some sort
of dark wizarding potential I´ve yet to figure out. Uncle sent a set of
diamond phials for Potions, which will come in handy for more caustic
mixes. Uriel brought me a mouse, silly bugger of an owl that he is. Dobby
gave me a storybook, written in a foreign language I don´t know (looks
like Chinese or some such), but the pictures are really pretty. Maman gave
me a book as well, but I can´t figure out how it works. She said that it´s
magic, and it might take me awhile to make it work; she said that she
knows how, but it would be cheating if she told me.
All in all, it wasn´t too bad of a holiday. Maman was a bit distant
during dinner, but Dobby told me she´s been like that for a while. Father
and his associates have been meeting more and more often, and she doesn´t
seem to like it. I don´t blame her, but I also know that she´s involved in
it as well--probably more than I would care to know.
So the books sit hidden with my stuffed animal from my birthday (I´ve
decided it´s definitely a fox). I´m going to have to start keeping them in
my Hogwarts´ trunk, I think. I don´t trust Father not to search my room
for such things.
Maybe at school I´ll figure things out better. All I know right now is
that I´d rather be living with a Muggle family that hated me, than with
one whose idea of love might kill me.
D. S. Malfoy
3 January 1992
Well, the new year has begun, and with it I have begun to feel the
weight of the chains I´ve bound myself with.
Father, I think, wonders what it is I do at school. He wrote to tell
me that I needed to watch myself with Harry Potter, that people have
remarked on my cruelty towards the Boy Who Lived. What did he expect? He
told me to alienate Harry, to make people hate him. Was I supposed to
accomplish that by holding his hand and singing his praises? Really, some
days I wonder about Father´s intelligence.
Anyway, I think I´m getting the hang of Charms. I hear that Granger
(that´s the Gryffindor witch that nearly got her clock cleaned by the
troll on Halloween) is still ahead of me in the grade standings (a fact
which annoys me to no end), but at least I´m ahead of the other Houses.
Crabbe and Goyle have been looking at me funny, lately. Pansy said
they think I´ve been too withdrawn, and maybe she´s right. If I can´t keep
Crabbe and Goyle fooled, there´s no way I´ll keep my father fooled. I
guess I´d better start letting them help me annoy Harry and his friends.
Maybe that´ll get Father off my case.
D. S. Malfoy
22 January 1992
I wish that I could play Quidditch. Maybe I´ll make the House team
next year. Flint said that he heard Madam Hooch say I was a good flyer, so
maybe I´ve got a chance...
I just feel so...isolated. I know that I´ve done it to myself, but how
else was I supposed to accomplish my goal? I watched him, today, on the
Quidditch pitch, flying leisurely in the air as if he hadn´t a care in the
world. He was so deep in thought that he never even noticed me, a lone
speck of silver and black seated in the Slytherin stands. He´s a natural,
I´ll give him that. He doesn´t have the grace and finesse of someone who´s
been on a broom since before they could walk, but he has...something.
Watching him fly...for a moment, a part of me was able to fly with him and I
was able to forget all my worries.
But only for a moment.
Harry´s involved in something right now, something that I´ve yet to
catch on to. I´ve seen him and Granger and Weasley closeted in the corner
of the library, whispering conspiratorially. I just have to make sure that
I figure it out before they get themselves killed.
Really, Gryffindor House should be known as the House of idiots rather
than the House of the brave.
D. S. Malfoy
14 February 1992
Valentine´s Day is the worst holiday ever invented, and that´s all I
have to say.
Draco
12 March 1992
Well, it´s official: Hogwarts is a completely and utterly nutters
place to be. St. Mungo´s has to be more stable than this! I got in trouble
(not surprising) for tattling on Harry and his friends. I was only doing
it because the stupid git doesn´t value his own neck. He could have gotten
killed, hanging out with Hagrid´s dragon, delivering it to Weasley´s
friends at one o´clock in the morning from the Astronomy tower... Well, at
least we´re all stuck serving detention together, Granger, Longbottom,
Harry, and I. And they lost a lot of points for Gryffindor: I wouldn´t be
surprised if Harry´s own House drove him away before I have a chance to.
What´s really odd is that no-one seems to have caught on. Maybe I
really am a better actor than I thought. I´ve managed to convince the
entire school that I hate Potter and will stop at nothing to get him
expelled. Even Uncle´s pulled me aside to tell me that my vendetta against
Harry is a little excessive, and perhaps I should set it to rest for
awhile.
Really, people here are incompetent. All of them, fooled by an
eleven-year-old boy... Make that two eleven-year-old boys. I can´t
believe that the teachers have been fooled by Harry´s goody-goody
exterior. There´s something not quite right with him, mark my words. I´ve
seen the thoughts that cross behind those eyes. He´s not as innocent as
everyone seems to believe. He´d like to hurt people, like to laugh at
their troubles and pains. Somehow he manages to hold it back, but it´s
there. Deep, dark waters stir in him, muddied with serpentic venom.
Hmph, how very Slytherin.
D. S. Malfoy
13 March 1992
In case I haven´t stated it before, the staff of Hogwarts is insane!
You know what they made us do for detention? They put us under Hagrid and
sent us into the Forbidden Forest. We were after something that was
attacking and killing unicorns. If you ask me, something that could kill a
unicorn wasn´t exactly something that eleven-year-old kids should be
tackling. ...Not that anyone wanted my opinion. No, instead I protested
quite loudly about how when my father heard about this, he´d have words
with Dumbledore. I´m very good at bandying Father´s name around when
Harry´s involved; nothing seems to infuriate him faster.
At first Hagrid paired me up with Longbottom, but that didn´t last
very long. Something didn´t seem right to me while we were walking, and it
was more than the fact that the forest creeped the hell out of me. I kept
hearing voices, whispers that almost seemed to come from the trees
themselves: Evil stalks the forest, evil that wants Potter dead. So I
played a prank that made Hagrid switch us around, pairing me up with
Harry.
I admit, when I came face-to-face with the evil the trees warned of, I
screamed and ran. I can´t believe what a coward I was, really. I wrote to
Maman before writing in here, and I´m hoping she´ll have some words of
wisdom that will ease my conscience. I ran to Hagrid and told him what
happened, hoping that when we returned Harry would be all right. He was
saved by a centaur, something that apparently the other centaurs
considered in bad form. Their arguments didn´t make a whole lot of sense
to me, but who am I to try and figure out centaur logic?
I´m the ruddy Boy-Who-Ran-Away.
Malfoy
17 April 1992
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear Draco,
happy birthday to me.
Birthdays suck. Friends suck. Harry hates me. Pansy´s being a pain.
Granger´s kicking my arse in Charms. Professor Sprout whacked me with a
tree limb. Maman says I need to learn to play nice and make friends. Uncle
accidentally poured acid on me. And now I´m going to cry like the little
prat I am and hope that tomorrow´s better.
Have I mentioned that Harry hates me?
Draco
28 May 1992
Secrets. It´s funny how something no-one is supposed to know can
spread like wildfire until everyone knows it. Take, for instance, the fact
that Harry took on Voldemort in the third-floor corridor last night. He
nearly didn´t make it out alive, either, from all accounts. I snuck into
the infirmary about an hour ago to look in on him (Madam Pomfrey almost
caught me, but I managed to hide...somehow), and a part of me burst into
tears. He broke his hand (A good thing wizard magic is faster and better
than Muggle healing in some cases; it would break his heart if he couldn´t
play Quidditch anymore.), and he was covered in bruises and cuts,
terribly, terribly pale in his stripped pyjamas, lying underneath the
infirmary sheets like a corpse.
But another part of me cheered at the sight of him. The Boy Who Lived
Again. Twice now he´s managed to walk away from Voldemort alive. Twice!
But he won´t always be so lucky. Voldemort is probably more determined
than ever to make sure that he dies.
I wonder why he went after Harry in the first place, all those years
ago. Why try to kill a one-year-old child?
All I know is that I have to try harder than ever to keep Harry away
from Hogwarts. He can´t come back here next year--he can´t.
...Because I don´t know what I´d do if he died.
Draco
24 June 1992
The ride home was relatively uneventful. Crabbe and Goyle wanted to go
and pick on Harry and his friends, but I was too tired to go with them, so
they gave up. Really, I´ve been so exhausted lately. Right now I want to
curl up and sleep for a week.
Maybe I´ll be able to sleep better at home. I doubt it, but I´m
hoping. Maman hugged me when I got off the train, and Father said
(grudgingly, I´m sure) that he was proud of my marks. Well, at least I
managed to get a semi-pleased remark from him.
Hell, I wish I didn´t feel so confused! When I´m away from Harry, I
just want to be like any other boy who wants to please his parents. I wish
my father would be proud of me all the time, like Pansy´s parents are with
her. But, I also know the truth about my parents. I don´t love Maman any
less for it, for I know she does the things she does out of love for
Father.
I need to regain focus. I can´t lose sight of the fact that I have a
purpose, a goal to accomplish. I only have a few weeks to think of a way
to keep Harry from returning to Hogwarts next year.
Draco
26 June 1992
If Father finds out what I´ve done... Well, let´s just say that I don´t
relish being me if he does.
It took me a few days to come up with the first part of my plan, but
it´s fairly sound. At least, I think it is. I wish I were more clever,
more creative when it came to things like this, but my nature in that
respect seems to be more Gryffindor than Slytherin--a fact that disturbs me
to no end.
I´ve had Dobby intercept Harry´s mail. It´s not hard for a house elf
to do; their magics, when they´re allowed to use them, are much stronger
than ours. I know he doesn´t like hurting Harry (the house elves
practically worship Harry Potter), but it needs to be done. Maybe if Harry
thinks his friends don´t like him enough to write, he won´t want to return
to Hogwarts.
I don´t think it´s going to work, to be honest. I need to come up with
something a little more drastic, just in case.
Just in case...
D. S. Malfoy
29 June 1992
I took out that book that Maman gave me for Christmas, today, to try
and figure it out. I think it´s some sort of old recording journal, but I
can´t say for sure. Really, it´s hard to figure out... Standard revealing
charms don´t work on it, and it´s impervious to all other forms of magic
that I´ve tried, so far. I can´t even transfigure it, which is
interesting.
Father´s up to something. I´m not sure, yet, what it is, but I know
that it´s not good. And I know that he´s keeping it from Maman, somehow.
Dobby´s the one who told me what he´s been doing, but he knows even less
than I do. Hopefully we´ll be able to figure out what Father´s plans are
before they get too far.
On a strange note, I told Maman I was going to dye my hair black, and
she told me that it wouldn´t work. In the mood to spite someone, I
went ahead anyway and tried it. She was right; the colour wouldn´t hold at
all. I wonder, why, exactly...
D. S. Malfoy
16 July 1992
I hate to put Dobby in this position, but something needs to be done.
I don´t trust Harry to be completely deterred by the lack of mail from his
friends, nor do I trust the Weasleys to let things lie so easily. I´m
going to send Dobby to Harry´s House to cause trouble. If I´m lucky, it´ll
be enough to get him in trouble with the Ministry so he can´t return.
Not that I´m counting on being lucky. The gods know that my luck of
late has been awful. No, Dobby and I have been working on a way to make
the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ impermeable, so that on September 1, Harry
will be unable to get through.
I think that Maman and Father have made up, for now. I heard Father
tell her that she could take a week to go and see her sister. I didn´t
know that Maman had a sister. Of course, I barely know anything about
Maman´s family, since Father doesn´t want me seeing them. I wonder why,
exactly.
Lately, I´ve been wondering a lot of things, haven´t I? Maybe, some
day, I´ll actually have time to figure out the truth. Right now, though,
I´m a little too busy being a backstabbing Slytherin to do anything about
it. Priorities, priorities...
D. S. Malfoy
[Part
I] |