He sits calmly in a worn red chair, settling an ink bottle and the book in his lap. The leather cover is rubbed thin in some places, shining like new in others.
With long, pale fingers, he traces the gold lightning bolt embedded in the cover; it still glows with the same beauty that attracted them the day that it was made. Finally, he sighs and opens the notebook.
Holding his quill in his teeth while he unscrews the lid of the ink, he is careful not to drip any on the pure white pages.
He dips the tip of the quill into the black ink and writes with a shaking hand, my name is Draco Malfoy.
The fire in front of him crackles merrily as the ink dries and disappears.
Hello, Draco Malfoy suddenly appears, spidery red letters etching themselves stark against the whiteness of the page. My name is Harry Potter. How did you come by my diary?
Draco smiles softly as the red letters disappear, imploring, almost inviting him to answer. Tears fill his eyes as the voice of Harry splays itself over the pale sheet from beyond the grave.
One drop slides down his cheek and splashes onto the page. More red letters appear as the tearstain dissolves.
Why are you crying, Draco Malfoy?
Draco takes a deep breath.
You used to ask me that, he writes. You used to ask me that all the time. You told me that I had no business being miserable. You told me that we would always have each other.
His hand falters as the words begin to disappear. More tears roll down his face, but he does not pause to wipe them away.
You said you'd always be there to kiss the tears away, he scrawls, the tears falling like rain onto the paper and smudging the ink. You said all sorts of things to me to make me feel better. How does it make you feel now? I hope you're laughing at me from wherever you are.
The smudged black ink melts away, leaving a clean white sheet.
You lied, he continues to scribble shakily. You lied to me, Harry. You said we'd be together forever. You lied.
Before the diary can reply, Draco slams the book shut and throws it across the room. It hits the wall and bounces, white pages tearing from the binding and fluttering to the floor like wounded butterflies.
Later, Draco watches the diary burn. Page by page, he wipes the last remnants of Harry Potter from the face of the earth.