Dear Diary,
I am sick of this life. I don't want to date Draco. I know he's gay, and he knows I'm lesbian. He's in love with Harry, and I'm in love with damn Gran-Hermione. Hermione is her name, and that's who I am in love with.
We pretend to date, but I don't want to. Neither does Draco, really. He hates it, but at least he and Harry have a chance. Harry is bi, I've heard. I can't tell Draco, though. What if Harry wasn't? Draco couldn't stand it.
I thought this year, our last year back, would be different. The teachers are promised amnesty, but they were the only ones. The kids picked on me, threw hexes and jinxes, but no one had it as bad as Draco.
Draco stumbled into the Slytherin common room, bruised and bloody, and then his housemates would attack him.
I spoke to McGonagall, and she agreed that wasn't a safe place for Draco or I to live. So, we got our own dorm. After assuring her we wouldn't sleep together,(I snorted at the thought), we got to sleep in the same bedroom.
So here I am. In a bedroom with tacky crème colored walls. I hate this room. I hate everything. My life is over. Goodbye, diary.
And Pansy picked the diary up, and lit it on fire. Then, she picked up a small vile of crystals, and downed them in one swallow.
As she swallowed, she thought she smelled bitter almonds, but it was gone almost immediately.
She started convulsing. She couldn't breathe, and her heart was beating to fast.
Then, everything went black.