To Pansy:
I've known you since we were but small children. I remember being bored at the parties my father would throw, waiting until you got there and I would have someone to talk to. If only life were still that simple.
I'm sure you know what was said about you at Hogwarts – you were called a slut, a whore, and worse. People assumed that, because you cared about me when I was hurt, because I took you to the Yule Ball in fourth year, we were sleeping together. There's no point in pretending that's not what was thought about us.
The point is, I could have stopped the rumors. I know you tried – I heard you trying, refuting everything that was said – but it didn't work. Because I didn't want it to.
I enjoyed the rumors, to an extent. It made me feel strong, important. "The Prince of Slytherin," some people called me, because I was with you, the undisputed Princess. All it would have taken was me admitting the truth, but I didn't.
I'm not sorry about that, Pansy – you know I'm not. I know it was wrong, I knew what I should have done, but I didn't. If I could go back now, knowing what I know, I would probably fix it. But I can't, and there's no point in being sorry for something I didn't regret until years afterwards.
I'm not making excuses; I'm explaining myself and saying goodbye. Thank you, for doing for me what I didn't do for you.
Draco Malfoy
Rumor-Spreader and
Terrible Friend