Chapter 8

    Diana was eating her breakfast, and she, as well as everyone else in the Great Hall, couldn't help but notice a long thin package carried by six large screech owls. It was going to the Gryffindor table. Diana knew what it was, and she left the Great Hall to tell Draco. He, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing by a staircase.

"Harry's got a broomstick!" Diana told Draco.
"First years aren't allowed them," said Draco disbelievingly.
"They aren't allowed to be on the Quidditch team, either."
"The kid gets everything."
"So do you, Draco."
"What do you mean?"
"Your family's got a fortune. You could buy your way on the team."
"Are you saying I'm not talented?"
"Nothing of the sort. I'm just saying you're rich."

    Diana saw Harry and decided this wasn't something she wanted to stay to watch. She went to the Slytherin common room. As she went through the trapdoor, she hears Pansy giggle maliciously. Diana saw Marcus Flint and walked over to him. He was devising a devious plot to beat Gryffindor in Quidditch. Quidditch was a more popular topic than usual, ever since Harry Potter was deemed Gryffindor's Seeker.
    Diana didn't listen very intently. She enjoyed watching Quidditch and reading about it, but listening to game plans didn't interest her that much. Marcus was a great captain. He was very intent on winning the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin for the 8th year in a row.

    Diana got this feeling Slytherin, as a whole, would have to work harder this year to get the House Cup. It was mostly because Harry Potter had been in Gryffindor. Any house would benefit from having someone that famous. Professor Snape wouldn't want Harry in Slytherin, though. He didn't like Harry near as much as the other professors seemed to. His favorite student was Draco. Professor Quirrell got really nervous around Harry. He had a st-st-stutter that m-many S-Slytherins m-mocked behind his b-back.
    Slytherins usually weren't the hardworking type. They would do whatever it took to get their way. Most of the time, they'd find a way that required minimal work, even if it broke a rule or two. No deed is really bad unless you're thick enough to get caught. That's the philosophy of every Slytherin. People thought Slytherins were wretched people, but most were just unfortunate enough to have a killer thirst to prove themselves.

    The trapdoor opened, and Diana looked over to see Draco, who was closely followed by Crabbe and Goyle. Draco looked angry and confused. He walked to Diana, who looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"That is not fair! Potter's getting special treatment, all because he's famous!" said Draco, outraged.
"That, and Dumbledore seems to like him," said Diana.
"He better be good," said Draco.
"Why?"
"If he's not, I'll tell father about Dumbledore's favoritism."
"You're not a fan of Dumbledore, then?"
"Father isn't. Why should I be?"
"You really seem to love your father."
"I do. He's my father, but I suppose you wouldn't be able to relate to that."
"I think my father is still out there. I still remember seeing my mother's dead body, but I was never told if my father was alive or not."
"That must be strange, not knowing if he's alive or not."
"It is, but I'm used to it by now."
"So you live with the Weasleys?"
"Percy found me in a forest. I don't know why I was left there. I know my father loved me too much to abandon me like that. I think it was in his will that I was to be given to the family of one of his Death Eaters when he died. I just can't remember who it was."
"How can Mrs. Weasley tolerate you, knowing who your father is and all?"
"She can't. Percy, Bill, and Charlie have been the ones to raise me. They've always done their best to separate Mrs. Weasley and I."
"What does she do when she does see you?"
"She insults me, laughs at me when I'm hurt, doesn't feed me, doesn't let me sit down outside of my room...things like that."
"Insult her back."
"I do, and she cries herself to sleep."
"That's good."
"Yes, but it is kind of distracting to hear her sobbing when I'm trying to write."
"Well, I know this may seem like a strange thing to ask of you..."
"What?"
"Promise you'll consider it?"
"Maybe."
"Would you like to stay at my manor this summer?"
"You have an extra room, right?"
"We have about five."
"Oh. That will work, then."
"Don't you share a room with the Weasley twins? I think that's kind of sick."
"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't want me to poison their son's minds by being in their rooms. They chose Fred and George, because they figured their minds were already wild enough. They thought I would kill their daughter."
"I have a more personal question to ask of you. Would you ever kill anyone?"
"I don't know how to answer that."
"Think of the person you hate the most. Think about the worst thing they did to you. Oh, don't cry. Would you kill them?"
    "Yes." said Diana softly, drying her tears. More still fell, quite like water from a broken faucet. Draco hugged her comfortingly, apparently wondering what could be so bad that Diana cried at the mere thought of it. He kissed her lightly on the cheek and let go as the tears stopped falling.

"I suppose hatred like that would hurt," said Draco with concern.
"It does," said Diana.
"Would you mind telling me who?" Draco asked curiously.
"I'd rather not," she said.
"Must be a Slytherin thing," he told her, as if he had felt the same way many times before.
"Miss Riddle," said the voice of Professor Snape from behind her. "Come with me."