The ornate, green leather-bound book had been half-shoved underneath his bed, but Vincent Crabbe didn't remember owning an ornate green leather-bound book. It was only natural that he should be curious and open it to see what it was.
The name on the inside cover told him that picking it up had been a mistake.
Vincent could hardly believe it, but after he'd riffled through a few of the pages covered with the familiar bold, sharp writing, he knew enough to carefully put the diary into the bedside cabinet beside his own.
Draco didn't like to have his things touched.