DRACO MALFOY AND THE STRANGELY SENTIENT DIARY
September 1st dawned bright and clear in the city of London. Platform 9 ¾ of King's Cross Station was brimming with people – excited students who couldn't wait to go back to school; nervous first years; parents who were either weeping or trying to figure out what their child was forgetting at home. Adding to the chaos were a variety of noisy animals ranging from toads to cats to owls. The Hogwarts Express was standing on the tracks with the driver patiently waiting for the clock to strike eleven so it could begin another year full of learning.
Or so it was thought anyway.
Unbeknownst to the crowds, a sinister plot was brewing. Lucius Malfoy stroked his non-existent beard and laughed maniacally within the confines of his mansion. The clock struck eleven; the wheels of fate were already turning. Soon, very soon, a terrifying beast would be let loose upon the world and no one would be able to stop it!
The Hogwarts Express had finally chugged its way back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The excited students nearly caused a stampede in their hurry to get to the Great Hall and sink their teeth into the magnificent feast. However, Draco Malfoy, the true hero of this story, was feeling weary. It was as if there was a great weight on his shoulders, one that he really couldn't carry but had to because father said so. It had been this way for the longest time – ever since he could remember, actually. Father would keep his expectations of Draco so high that nothing the boy did was ever enough to satisfy the middle-aged man. As a result, the Malfoy heir was constantly pulling others down in the hopes of rising to meet his father's expectations.
Getting back to the story, Draco was sitting with his housemates in the Great Hall and watching the Sorting Hat in action. There were a number of new Slytherins in this year and their unofficial initiation ceremony would take place tonight in the common room. Draco rubbed his hands with malicious glee and exchanged looks with Crabbe and Goyle. This year looked like it would be fun…
His intuition had failed him. The year had begun and Draco was already in a sorry state of affairs. His grades were dropping faster than Longbottom's remember-all from first year and it was all he could do to keep up with Quidditch practice (even with the fastest broom in town). It didn't help that the man who called himself Tom Riddle wasn't in the least bit sympathetic towards his plight. But this begged the question, who was this mysterious man? Well, he resided between the pages of a book Draco had pilfered from his father's study. Initially, he had thought it was Lucius' diary and was eager to see if his name featured anywhere in the pages. However, he was sorely disappointed to find it blank and so he decided to keep it. After all, Father wouldn't miss an empty, musty old notebook, would he? (Just in case, though, he'd enchanted another book to look like an exact replica of the diary.)
Then once, after a particularly bad day, Draco decided to vent to the diary – god knew Crabbe and Goyle were too dumb to understand anything he said. Imagine his surprise when the diary wrote back! Draco was overjoyed; he thought he had found a new friend. Since then, he began to recount his daily woes to Riddle.
Meanwhile, Lord Voldemort or Tom Marvolo Riddle as he was previously known, was in a pickle. He needed a human host in order to open the Chamber and release the Basilisk to purge the Mudbloods from the castle once and for all. But this puny little boy…! He was beyond all hope! All he could talk about was Scarhead and Weasel and repeat on loop, "wait till my Father hears about this!" Honestly, he had had no idea a young boy could whine so much in one day. The worst part was getting any worthwhile information out of him. Whoever this boy was, he was very good at keeping secrets and knew not to trust even a seemingly harmless diary. From what he could gather, half the school year had gone by already. Riddle had no clue how to get the boy to abandon the diary so it could finally fall into the hands of someone more gullible.
He was this close to giving up now. He should never have trusted that pompous fool of a Malfoy with something as valuable as this diary. He probably had no idea even of the worth of the object – it was a part of the very soul of his lord and master… if only he knew! He would worship it at the altar!
(Malfoy the Senior sneezed. Surely someone was thinking of him in all his greatness. Although, there was something queer… No news from Hogwarts about the deaths yet? He had certainly slipped the musty old diary into the Weasley girl's book. Bah, perhaps the beast was asleep.)
It seems pertinent to also mention the happenings of the Gryffindor common room at this point. All the lion-hearted boys and girls were happy with their lives – well, if you discount the constant pain of having Gilderoy Lockhart as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Young Potter in particular was relieved. As of now, there did not seem to be anything suspicious going on in the castle. He could for once focus on his academics and Quidditch, without needlessly poking his head into matters way beyond his pay grade. His two faithful companions shared his joy but internally wished for another adventure.
(Un)fortunately for the golden trio, the greatest dark wizard of all time, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was being mentally devoured by a twelve year old who was unwilling to let go of his newest plaything.
And so it was that Harry Potter's second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was uneventful and dry with his greatest nemesis and would-be killer banging his head and concocting ways to kill himself without having to destroy all his Horcruxes.
(PS: come to think of it, Draco Malfoy unwittingly foiled Lord Voldemort's evil plans for an entire year! Oh, what would Father say if he knew?)
