Disclaimer: You know I don't own the characters.
Draco Malfoy sat at the back of the Potions classroom, prodding the dying flames beneath his cauldron with his wand. The flames weren't getting any bigger and eventually there was a little sizzle and the last spark went out. Malfoy sighed, nothing was going right for him these days, even simple magic seemed to be backfiring on him. It was like everything just turned it's back on him this year, including Professor Snape who no longer seemed to think of him as his golden boy. Malfoy had just scraped his way into the N.E.W.T. Potion class, though when he'd seen who was taking it with him he'd considered changing his mind. Granger, Potter, Longbottom, Pansy, and one or two other nameless people from Ravenclaw. How Longbottom had gotten into the class was a mystery to him but he had over heard the fool telling Weasel that he needed it along with Herbology to get the job he was considering.
Malfoy put up his hand and Snape walked over to him. "Sir, my flames have gone out and my wand is malfunctioning, it won't re light them," he told the professor.
"Your wand is not working? Powerful magical objects like wands do not malfunction Mr. Malfoy. Try again,". Malfoy picked up his wand and again spoke the incantation for fire, but all the happened was the wand omitted a little puff of grey smoke.
"Ahh..I see...Malfoy, give me your wand, I will take it to Mr. Olivander this week and he may take care of the problem," Snape said briskly, snatching the wand from Malfoy.
"Problem, Sir?" Malfoy asked, confused.
"Occasionally, a wand has been known to take a rather unpleasant turn against it's wizard. No one is particularly sure why, but it can have disastrous consequences if not dealt with immediately,"
"What kind of consequences?"
"Well, let's put it like this shall we?, the last wizard who's wand turned on him ended up in hospital with green fungus all over his body and one of his arms missing," Professor Snape looked solemn, "Don't worry Malfoy, you'll have your wand back by the end of the week,".
Malfoy sat at a small desk in the back of the Slytherin common room, away from all the noise. He was bent over a notebook, unaware that a lock of his blonde hair had fallen into his ink pot. He was scribbling furiously across the page, hurrying to get whatever it was down, as though he was worried someone would sneak up and read over his shoulder.
Journal,
Why must I write in this damned thing anyway? Oh, because of Father, "Every Malfoy is very important and important people always keep a history of their lives. It is a family tradition and you Draco, will not break it,". Who cares about damn traditions?! This is so stupid, I have nothing to write about that's very worthwhile. My day was it's usual boringness.
Yesterday, I had a run in with Potty and Weasel. They we're talking about something or another as we waited for Care of Magical Creatures (which we still have to take!) and for a laugh I decided to get Potter annoyed, after all I was bored and it's always funny watching him lose it.
"Hey Potter, what's wrong with you these days? Sad because your criminal friend died? Aww! Boo Hoo!" I said.
"Shut it Malfoy," was the reply.
"That's all? Where's the fight? Turned into a coward, have you? You and Longbottom should set up a club,"
The next thing i knew Potter and Weasley had turned around and were both pointing their wands at me. I reached for my own, but it wasn't there. That's when I remembered that Snape had taken my wand the other day- something about a malfunction. My heart sank, I was dead.
"Oh yeah!" said Weasley, it suddenly dawning on him,"How does it feel to be defenceless, Malfoy?". I just stared at the two wands.
"Tarantallegra!" shouted Potter at the same time as Weasley yelled, "Rictusempra!"
The combination of the two spells was that I did an awkward back-flip in mid air as I was thrown off my feet and slammed into the wall.
I had to crawl my way to the hospital wing, with Pansy helping me up the stairs. I told Madam Pomfrey I'd fallen down the stairs.
I'll have to be careful for the rest of the week, it's hard surviving without magic. How do muggle's manage?! I should ask Granger she's practically a muggle. Muggle-born anyway and that's basically being a muggle. Ha! Imagine talking to Granger! She never talks, only lectures, usually only about how bad you are at something and how great she is.
Like the time last week when I got my potion all wrong and she came over and started to dictate to me about what I'd done wrong exactly and how her potion had turned out perfect. I told her to stuff it and she got all huffy and turned away, retying her hair with a green ribbon. She looked quite pretty then, with her fringe to the side and framing her eyes. But, no! Granger is an annoying know-it-all and always will be no matter what she does with her hair!
Later,
Draco Malfoy V.I.W.
"Whatchya writing Draco?" Asked Pansy Parkinson, a girl with a face like a pug.
"What? Oh emm, nothing, just homework," he told her in a fluster.
"Want to come play chess with me? You could teach me how, I'm awful bad. I lost horribly to Sandra this morning,"
"Oh, no thanks, i have to go, emm, send a letter to my father," he said quickly.
"Please? It would be fun, come on, take a break from your hard work," she simpered.
"Ehh, no, thanks. Why don't you ask Goyle? He likes learning new things." He said, slipping past her and dashing up the stairs to the common room door. Where could he read and write in peace?!
"O.K. Malfoy, just what are you up to?!"
Draco Malfoy looked up from the book he had been reading to see a girl with long brown hair and brown eyes, that were flashing with annoyance, scowling down at him. He sighed inwardly.
Hermione Granger, just what he didn't need.
"Excuse me? Do you mind? This is a library and I'm trying to read,", the handsome blonde haired boy paid no attention to her and turned back to his book.
"Sure, like you're suddenly so interested in books?" She said skeptically, "what is it, The Alphabet for Beginners?"
"Har, har. Actually no. It's Philus Phortegue's Handbook of the Dark Arts,"
"Why are you reading that? You already know everything about the Dark Arts don't you Malfoy?" Hermione hissed in his ear, sitting down in the empty seat beside him.
"Granger, just because you think you know everything about my father doesn't mean you know anything about me!" Draco whispered harshly back, and with that he slammed the book shut and stormed out of the library.
Hermione sat blinking for a few seconds, not quite understanding what had just happened. What was that all about? Why was Malfoy acting so strangely?
Glancing at the place he had just vacated, she noticed that he had left the book he'd been reading on the desk. She picked it up. Probably full of dark magic spells, she thought to herself. But she was curious, as she flicked through it she noticed one or two unusual looking paragraphs. Confused, she stood up and checked the book out of the library.