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4th September

Today I had Astronomy, History of Magic and Transfiguration.

Hah. McGonagall teaches Transfiguration, and she's a miserable old hag.
Turned her desk into a pig and back again. I yawned. I hate it when people
expect you to be impressed. Then all we did was listen her going on and on,
before she let us have a go. We had to try and turn a match into a needle.

A match into a needle?

They almost look exactly the same anyway. By the end of the lesson my match
was still a match, so when she wasn't looking I chewed the end off to make it
look pointy! Professor I've-got-a-strict-scottish-name-and-wear-my-hair-in-a-bun-
and-have-probably-never-had-sex grudgingly said that at least mine was the
shape of a needle.

Ha! So much for her teaching skills.

History of Magic is taught by a ghost. I ask you, a ghost. Not only does he teach
history, he is history. It had to be the most boring lesson ever. Who cares about
the Goblin Revolt? All I need to know is that goblins are revolting. So is
Parkinson. She keeps squinting at me with her little black eyes. Makes me
shudder.

Narcissca sent me a package today. I've only been gone for three bloody days!
The woman really is pathetic. Grape Man enclosed a picture of himself and
Mother. Narcissca wrote a sappy letter. Didn't bother to read it. It probably went
something like...

Dearest Dracs,

I love you my liddle scrummy buns. I miss you so much, the house is so empty
without your idle widdle voice. Mummy wuvs you so, Draccy. Your father says
hello and says he loves you too.

A thousand smooches,

Mummy.

Please. Lucius says he loves me? How stupid does she really think I am? Lucius
is more likely to dye his hair pink and elope with Dumbledore than say that he
loves me.

The picture isn't even a proper picture. Horrible git cut it out from the Daily
prophet. He's receiving some sort of award. Hah. The only reason he ever gets
awards are because everyone's scared about what will happen if they don't give
him one. Probably worried he'll squirt them with his vicious grape juice or
something. I've changed my mind about the grape. He's wearing black robes in
this picture.

Now he looks like a sour grape.

Astronomy happens at night time. More boring, just looking at stars and things,
then writing down what we saw. I livened up the lesson by sticking a picture of a
comet on the professors telescope, then put a Sparkling Charm on it. Idiot
thought it was a real comet and started getting all excited. Everyone else thought
it was hilarious, but I got five points taken off Slytherin.

Now I'm tired. So it's off to beddy-byes. I'm keeping the picture of my mummy
and daddy under my pillow. I miss them so much, it hurts.

Not.


5th September

I'm a genius.

We had Potions today, and I'm brilliant at it. What's better, we have it with the
Gryffindors. At first I thought it would be really rubbish. But no. For one thing,
Professor Snape teaches Potions, and the guy loves me. He loves me almost as
much as he totally and completely HATES Potter.

He started the lesson by asking Potter these questions. I mean, they were pretty
hard. I knew the answer to one of them, the one about the bezoar, but was I
going to help Potty out? Was I hell.

That stupid little Muggle born Granger kept putting her hand up. What a bore!
She's probably memorized all of her books. I bet she's top of the class in
everything. Sour Grapes won't be happy. I think he's got this idea that I'm really
super smart. I mean, what does he expect? Clever and good looking? Well, okay,
I am pretty smart. But I'm not great at everything.

Which made Potions all the more fun because Snape kept using my work as an
example to the rest of the class. I was really proud, because I'd done it really
carefully as well. I hadn't cheated or anything, just followed the instructions.

I think Potty was a little jealous. Well, so he should be. I'm better than him. At
potions, anyway. And he should just wait until we start flying lessons. I bet he's
never ridden a broomstick in his life! I'm great at flying. If first years were allowed
on their house teams, I'd be on it. I'd be the Seeker.

Now for something a little different. To answer my earlier question, there are
pretty witches. Problem is, none of them are in Slytherin. Not like I particularly
want a girlfriend now, but someday I will. I mean, what am I going to do? Date
Pansy Parkinson?

Would Sour Grape prefer me to go out with a pug, or stay single and hold out for
something better?

To tell you the truth, I don't think he really cares. I know one thing though. My lips
aren't coming anywhere near hers. Not if you paid me. Not if Lucius paid me.
Which at some point, he probably will.

Life is fairly good. C & G are getting to be really tiresome. They can't string two
words together. It's getting to be annoying, the only times I ever have proper
conversations anymore are when I'm writing in my diary or arguing with Potty and
the Weasel.

Still, don't want friends who are too clever, just look at Granger. Or the Rabbit, as
I've taken to calling her. Imagine having that as your best pal.


7th September.

I have nothing to write. Weasel's oldest brother is a prat. Percy the Prefect. Get
him back later. Hehehe.


9th September

What's wrong with Professor Quirrel? We had Defense Against the Dark Arts
today. It was crap. I thought it'd be brilliant, all learning how to fight and duel and
stuff, but no. We just sat there while he tried to explain ho he'd killed a vampire.

How hard can it be? Stake through the heart. It's dust. And I wonder why he
wears that turban all the time. Maybe he's hiding something? I don't know.

Flying lessons start next week. And we've got them with the Gryffindors.

Oh joy.

P.S Daddy says to tell you that you'll always be his ickle fluffy dragon.

That was an actual extract from Narcissca's latest offering. I felt like I'd eaten a
bag of Cockroach Cluster.


14th September

Had flying lessons today. It was just completely crap. To start with it was alright. I
mean, that morning, after breakfast, Longbottom yells out that he's got a
Rememberall. Why couldn't Narcissca send me something useful like that? I
mean, sweets and everything much appreciated, but I don't want to get fat.

Anyway, as we walked past the Gryffindor's table, I picked the thing up to take a
look at it. Typical Longbottom, whined to Potty. Potty started to tell McGonagall,
so I put it back. Like I said, I was only looking.

Flying lessons. I was really looking forward to flying lessons. Starts off stupid
bloody Madam Hooch tells me that I've been holding my broom wrong for years.
Saw Potty and Weasel snigger. Not my fault if Grape's crap at flying, is it? I think
I'll write and tell him later. Maybe he'll see it as a personal insult and get Hooch
sacked. Ha.

Then Longbottom falls off his broom and breaks his wrist. I saw the Rememberall
and picked it up so I could give it back to him later. Potty then felt he had to
assert his so called authority yet again - I tell you, he's like some sort of dog,
trying to make out that it's leader of the pack.

Well, I couldn't resist it. I was just going to pretend to leave the Rememberall up
a tree...as if I'd actually do something like that. I flew up and they all gasped.
What, did they think I was lying when I told them I could fly? Then Potty, of all
people, suddenly kicks off and follows me up there. He proceeded to actually
threaten me...threaten me, of all people, and I...well, I saw red.

I threw the stupid thing up in the air and went back to the ground. What
happened next, I don't want to discuss. Suffice to say, Potty is now Seeker for
the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

I hate Harry Potter.