A/N: Some of the things mentioned in this chapter are not found in the UK edition of HBP, which I have, but are instead left out and in the American edition.

Draco Malfoy

Dear Diary

I have never sunk this low before. And it's all Professor Snape's fault. He killed Dumbledore when I was supposed to, and then he brought me to the Muggle world, and now here I am, the famous (or infamous, depending on how you look at it) Draco Malfoy, hiding out in a Muggle home, under the alias of Benjamin Smith. And Snape's my 'uncle', Steven Smith.

If Potter and his little friends saw me now they'd be laughing till their heads fell off.

I can't believe Snape made me do this. The worst part is that Mother agreed to let me hide out in the Muggle world. Stupid woman. But I guess it's partly my fault too. If I hadn't faltered when I had to kill Dumbledore I wouldn't be here.

It's strange how I can still remember Dumbledore's words, even three weeks after Snape killed him. He said that You-Know-Who couldn't kill me if I was dead. That no one would be surprised that I had died trying to kill him. That he could protect my mother and father as well. Why? Why would he say that? He knew I couldn't do it. He knew I couldn't kill him. And I think Snape knew it too. Maybe that's why he killed Dumbledore. Maybe all this was planned before.

Then that means that maybe Dumbledore isn't dead. Then why am I hiding?

Wait. That also means that Snape wasn't working for You-Know-Who. It was all set-up. He pretended to, under Dumbledore's orders. He's been lying to me for three weeks. Did Mother know too, then? No. No, I don't think she did. She never would have allowed it.

But what if I'm wrong? What if Snape really did kill Dumbledore? You know how sometimes you feel like a bucket of ice-cold water has been poured down your stomach? I'm having that feeling now. This doesn't make sense. Nothing does. Not anymore. Things were simpler when I didn't have to worry about…all this. Everything that's happened. Things were simpler when I didn't have to constantly look over my back, as though waiting for You-Know-Who to find me and kill me. Never did I jump at any tiny sound. Never did I have nights as sleepless as those I've had for the past three weeks.

Sometimes, when I can't sleep, I wish You-Know-Who would just find me and kill me. Because then, at least, things would be…better, I guess. Since I wouldn't have to keep looking over my shoulder, wondering if that man in the black coat is Him in disguise…

A/N: I know, this chapter was crap, but it's a little hard doing Draco. And I'm not feeling quite up to my usual writing standard today, so maybe that's why this chapter didn't come out good…Oh, well. I hope you guys appreciated it though!