A/N: I'm sorry it took me so long to write this chapter. I wasn't sure how to organize it. Anyways, to those who may read it, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Character's are J.K. Rowlings.
I Write For Me
October 3rd: Journal Entry # 7
I have just received a very strange letter from my father. He has told me that I am to receive my dark mark this summer, instead of in two years. When I wrote to him and asked why, he simply said that it is not my place to know, and to be patient. What exactly is going on? He's been gone an awful lot lately, leaving mother to herself and she gets quite distraught when there are no men around. There is something quite fishy going on here. Quite fishy indeed. It makes me wonder if something has gone wrong with his original plans or if he's just decided I'm ready. Truthfully, I don't feel ready. I have so many spells to master. So much I don't know! And then there's the other thing…
Draco glanced around to make sure nobody was looking over his shoulder and continued.
I don't really know if I want to be a Death Eater quite yet…
He shut the journal and sighed holding his chin in the palm of his hand. He was a disgrace to the family name! A Malfoy who didn't want to be a Death Eater? What on
earth was this world coming to? He tucked the journal under his arm and went up the steps to his dormitory. He then put the journal in his trunk and sat down wondering what it was he was going to tell his father. That is, if he hadn't changed his mind about not being ready. The truth was, maybe he didn't want to spend the rest of his life serving the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord was a mudblood, who for some reason wanted to cleanse the world of all the vile disgusting unworthy people, which was more than half the world's population. Draco was expected to serve a half-blooded maniac.
He sighed. "Granger's a half-blooded maniac," he muttered. He reached into the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a piece of hard candy. He unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. "Cherry," he said.
October 7th: Journal Entry # 8
I've just thought of something. Why is father serving a HALF-BLOODED maniac whose mother was a squib? Who tricked the first Tom Riddle or whatever the Dark Lord's father's name was, into marrying her? And then he left her when the spell wore off and realized how ugly she was? Well almost a squib. But the Dark Lord's father was TRASH. And my father worships that? My we have a problem. See? Because I was raised to HATE, no LOATHE mudbloods and muggle filth and now I'm extremely confused. If I hate Granger for what she is, then how can I worship someone like her? Not personality wise, because I don't see her going crazy and killing her own half-blooded peers. But it's a bit scary because I've begun to think for myself in my father's absence. The only thing I've ever known is taking orders and acting a certain way for my father. I was bred to be a lap dog and now I don't like this path that's been picked out for me. I'm a leader, not a follower. I always have been and I don't want to be under the rule of a mudblood who has a bad family line.
I'm not particularly giddy today. Potter brought a good point to my attention and I hate it when he does that.
Draco looked up remembering that horrible moment.
"Hey Malfoy, how does it feel to lick a half-blood's shoes?" he'd asked. Granger didn't look particularly thrilled about the question even though Potter wasn't exactly a pureblood either. His mother was muggle born.
Draco had turned around to accept the challenge.
"You're talking to me?" he asked. He had been patient at first, but that was quickly slipping away.
"Yes," Potter said. "Didn't you know that your Dark Lord is only a half blood?"
"I-" Draco began, but for the first time in his life he had nothing to say about this new development.
"Oh my God!" the Weasel had exclaimed, clapping one freckled hand over his mouth. "He doesn't know!"
At that point Granger had rolled her eyes and walked off, not understanding anything about the opposite sex. They were so aggressive with one another. So eager to see who could undo the other before the day was over… She supposed girls were that way too, but in a more quiet way.
Draco had then questioned Potter further and gotten the story out of him. Something Harry had just recently learned. He'd listened to his enemy with interest and then turned to leave when Potter spoke rather abruptly.
"Don't let them mark you Malfoy," he'd said.
Draco looked out of the window of the library, not really thinking about much more. That had squashed everything he'd believed in less than a half an hour. He was afraid to tell his father of his thoughts because he knew what would come of it. And of course that was nothing good at all. He realized he was squeezing his journal rather tightly now, scowling at the sunset. He no longer had a plan for his future.
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"He's been writing in that book quite frequently lately," Ron muttered to Harry, who was lying on his bed with his eyes shut.
"What?" he asked sounding tired. It was one in the morning.
"Malfoy," Ron whispered. "He's got a diary."
Harry propped himself up on his elbow, groping for his glasses on his nightstand.
"Really?" Harry whispered back. "Malfoy with a diary," he chuckled lightly. "Well that's a funny picture."
"I think he's up to something," Ron muttered in the dark. Around them their roommates snored lightly, or breathed loudly. Neville was muttering in his sleep.
"Just because he's got a diary?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, he could be plotting something. Don't you think? Like death eater stuff!" Ron muttered. He sounded almost as if he enjoyed the thought. "Wouldn't that be cool if we caught him plotting a mass murder or something? We'd get such a big reward!" Ron sighed as his imagination ran away with him.
"I doubt it," Harry replied. "I don't think we should give him that much credit."
Ron turned on his side and they looked at each other grinning. Even though they both knew that Malfoy was probably quite capable of doing a lot of damage if he wanted. He had a death eater for a father. He had to pick up some dark magic somewhere didn't he?
"I wouldn't look too much into it mate," Harry replied. "Leave Malfoy alone. He's not worth the time. Besides, he probably hasn't got anything interesting to say. Except damn mudbloods! Must get revenge on the world because I'm really just mad at my parents. Blah, blah, blah…"
After that nothing more was said, even though both Harry and Ron were thinking about Malfoy. What sort of things went on in the Slytherin's head? What would he have to write about?
Secretly Harry didn't want to know. But in the other bed, next to his, his best friend wanted to know very much…
A/N: Please review to tell me what you thought. I hope you liked this chapter. I'm sorry but I've been busy studying for finals and such and haven't had much time to write. Plus I've been trying to keep up with my other story the Vampire Epidemic. It's also a Potter Fan-Fic. People have sort of stopped reading it so I'm not sure if I'll write much more on it. The one's that have though have said it's very good. Maybe you should look into it:P You might like it.
