Draco Malfoy was thoroughly intrigued when he found a peculiar book sitting on the top of an unoccupied table in the Library late one night. He himself was doing some research for Potions class (not that he cared) when he stumbled across it.

It was sitting, quite innocently, right on the corner of the table. Perfectly rectangle in shape and plain black in colour, no lock and key protection and certainly no signs of anyone coming back to retrieve it. He was, after all, the only one in the Library on a Friday night. He decided he liked it that way.

But just because he was alone didn't mean no one would come back… and just because there was no lock and key protection, doesn't mean there was no protection at all.

Draco got out his wand and swished it over the book. Nothing happened. He grinned at his luck.

No charms, hexes, curses or anything. Must be a first years!

Deciding that it would be much more interesting to read compared to Eighty-Seven Potion Ingredient Necessities for Extreme Potions, he opened the curious book and was again pleased to find that everything appeared normal.

The first thing that popped into Draco's mind was a diary. It was all hand written, with loopy handwriting, perfectly in line though there were no lines in the book. Looking closer, he decided that it wasn't a diary, per se. More like a train of thought.

Who cares, anyway, when people ask 'How are you?' They so don't want an answer. Unless it's like, your mom or something, no one gives a fuck. Not really. You can be bawling your eyes out and say, "I'm fine, really," and they'll believe you and be uncomfortable cause you're crying.

Draco snorted at the thought of someone crying. It was something he believed to be unattractive.

Besides, what use is school? They teach you Math and English and Science and yet… what for? For a job. What use is a job? Who wants to spend a good 40 years of their life working for money to get food on the table which is actually free anyway (in reality, we can all have cows and goats). With the food, we keep living, which means working, which means money, and now we've come a full circle. Life is a funny thing and I'm not sure I want to be a part of it.

Draco thought about this. Math? Science? This girl was certainly a muggle before Hogwarts. Unfortunately, that didn't narrow anything down. He continued reading.

can't believe he did that to me today. Utter rudeness. How dare he, a stupid male, doubt my abilities as a woman? Doesn't he realise that I'm the one that gets period cramps every month (Draco gave a big shiver here) and I have to be the one to get pregnant? I'm the one with the destroying hormones and have to push something the rough size of a watermelon out of my vagina?

Draco gave another shiver. He wasn't sure he wanted to keep reading so he put the book down for a moment. This small book had given him a lot to think about and once he found out the owner to the book, he would plot plenty of mischief. The book was nearly full after all, Draco found after flipping through. Surely there would be a few secrets in there?

He flipped to the middle of the book and found plenty of ruffled edges. A good handful of pages had been ripped out, none too carefully. Draco was inordinately curious about this… what had been there? Why had it been ripped out? He wanted to know, ever so badly. Sighing, he flipped a few pages onwards.

I finally saw him today. He was tall and dark and handsome. A face like no other I'd ever seen before. Oh, how I approve.

And that was all of the passage. A small frown appeared on Draco's forehead. Who was the mysterious author talking about? How dare they leave out such detail?

It started off with my quill. How such a minuscule object could behold such major consequences I will perhaps never know. But first, it broke on me. Right in the middle of class.

Bad luck, strike one.

Next up was my shoe. The strap has completely ripped off as I was walking down the stairs. I can say without exaggeration that I nearly died…

Strike two of bad luck.

And then he had a go at me today. Whatever for, I have no idea, I remember a lot of cussing and insults but besides that not a much else. He's not worth my time, I suppose.

It's not that I believe in bad luck. Misfortune, on the other hand, I do. Today was one of those misfortunate days. But then again, what creates a good day? A fortunate day? They always talk about the key to happiness but no one quite knows what it is… Doing something for others, like charity? Achieving a long-term goal, or getting a promotion? No, I don't think so. I think that true happiness is only achieved whilst doing stuff that makes you happy. That of course, varies for everyone, which is good. Everything varies for everyone.

Draco shut the book. He was bored of the deep thinking. On a second thought though, he flipped through again, scanning for anything… a curse, a name, something.

And he found one.

They're together now. I think it's about time, Harry deserves to be happy. Ginny is ecstatic too, so that makes me happy. But I truly don't think I should be alone anymore. Truthfully, Ronald just doesn't do anything for me. Perhaps once, when I forced myself into thinking I had a crush, but I know better now. I know who truly the one for me is.

But oh, would I ever admit it? No, of course not. Shameful, really. But he's smart, and witty, and sometimes even a little funny. He knows what he's talking about and I suppose above all, he is dedicated. Just not to me.

Draco found himself closing the book with a small smirk on his face. Hermione Granger kept a diary and she fancied someone who wasn't a weasel. He tossed the book between his hands gently while he thought.


The next post arrival found Hermione Granger stuck between Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley. Hermione couldn't believe her misfortune.

First her book, now the unfortunate seating arrangements? Thank goodness it was only breakfast.

A plain owl landed clumsily on top of a medium sized package. Hermione untied it quickly and fed the owl some sausage before it went on its way. She picked it up and read the attached note.

Found this somewhere anyone could find it. Keep it close… it could have been found by worse hands.

Hermione grinned and left quickly, keeping her head down while she unwrapped the package. Once she was in the corridor she whipped out her wand and cast a special spell. It was a tricky one but Hermione had mastered it quickly; the spell reveals who the last person to open the book was. She couldn't believe when pure white letters moved across the cover to spell out Draco Malfoy. At first all she felt was pure embarrassment but she was sure there was nothing to hide in there. The book only held her musings, didn't it?

Back in the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy sniggered to himself. While the book was in his possession, he had randomly flicked to the last page.

I hate him, so much. Oh so much it fills me and overflows and explodes. But since his hair is no longer covered in gel, he is so much more attractive than I've always refused to admit. That coupled with his rare grin and his intelligence just makes me so intrigued. I feel the need to know more about him, be closer to him, though I know it's wrong. Besides everything obvious, there's everything else. So many bad things outweighing the good things. Oh, Draco Malfoy will be the end of me.