I have to do this. There is no other way. My life is a meaningless particle of dust in the wind to him. He believes me to fail. I realize that now. He wants me to fail. It would be a sliver of the anger he carries for my family. My dear mother, how she wishes we weren't a part of this. But it is my father, that spiteful man, who has forced us into this position. Locked away in Azkaban where he can't be harmed, but my mother and I can. He dragged us into the wrath of the Dark Lord by giving that silly Weasley girl that diary. How I will never forgive my father.
As I tear down the hallways, trying to avoid Filch, straining to reach my common room before someone sees, I gasp for breath looking around the corner. All I see is the billowing robes of my godfather. I wait until he passes down the corridor before taking off again. "Demonyo," I whisper into the darkness. A grate opens from the floor, and I enter the Head Boy's dorm. I shut the door and lock it to make sure no one will enter from now until tomorrow morning. Blaise is prone to coming and going when he please, the self righteous bastard. I turn to the desk in the corner. Sitting down I retrieve three pieces of parchment. One I address to my mother, one to Borgin, and one to the Dark Lord. I start with Borgin's letter, Sir, I wish to inform you that my project is undergoing well. It seems there is a slight glitch in the process that might make my marks less than top score. Please help me find a way to keep the respiratory functions working. Sincerely, Draco Malfoy. That ought to work, coded enough that anyone who will read it would only understand certain parts of it. Befuddle them in others though. Now, for the Dark Lord…Master, (How I loathe that title I am forced to use) The plan is following a strict time table. I believe by the end of the school year I will be able to complete this task you have granted me the pleasure of fulfilling. I have other plans that are working in the background to maybe see if he will slip up. I remain under your command, Draco Malfoy. I hate the way everyone with the dark mark is forced to be obedient and submissive. I've no mind to disobey though. I've seen what tortures the Dark Lord brews for them. I must also keep the suspicions off of my mother and me so that we may have more freedoms than others. To start her letter, before I need to retire to sleep.
My dearest mum,
Everything is going smashingly well here. I may require a few more sweets soon. I have greedy friends who enjoy them more than I do. I am faring well, just a bit of stress weighing me down. I have no interest in marrying Pansy so don't attempt to set anything up. I would prefer someone else. But we will discuss that over the holidays. I cannot wait to be home at the Manor, away from the drafty and boring castle. Quidditch grows tedious, but I have no mind to quit just yet. My Head Boy duties keep me occupied at all times of the night, but that is what I get for being a prestigious and ambitious child. You've raised me well, to deal with the many issues we face in life. How is father holding up? When will be the time for freedom? Or will that day ever come? I do so dearly hope you are in good health and give my best wishes to Aunt Bella. Lovingly Yours, Draco.
I can't wait to be out of this hell hole. All around me I see what my life could have been had I not been chosen to carry out this arduous task, all because of my scum father. He is the reason for my encoded messages, and inability to actually converse with my mother. Gods! I wish he had died. I never want to be like him. I can't believe I used to think it was a wonderful idea to be a Death Eater. And I was actually honored to be chosen for the task of killing my headmaster. There is no way I will be able to carry this out. If I fail, at least it will be away from all the suffering spent on this earth. Maybe I will be at peace for once.