'Listen Penny', I said, gazing intently into my owl's eyes. 'Before we set off for Hogwarts, I need to brief you on the plan. The Number One target is no longer Harry Potter. Our goal is to kill Lockhart and steal his magic.'

….

Mrs Weasley sobbed as myself, Harry Potter and her multiple children crammed themselves onto the Hogwarts Express. We squeezed into carriages, and along with Harry and Ron I found myself sat next to a small, snivelly boy who was clutching a book on plants. I turned away from him in disgust. Harry smiled at him. 'Good holiday, Neville?'

The boy sniffed, blew his nose on his handkerchief and then shrugged. 'It was ok. I fell in a river. I got this cool book on herbology, though.'

Harry and Ron attempted to look encouraging. 'That's a great book, Neville', Ron said. 'I bet Professor Sprout will be really impressed'.

I looked at them. 'Who's Professor Sprout?'

Ron looked at me severely. 'Just because you keep skiving off her lessons, Draco, doesn't mean you can pretend to not know her'.

Harry looked at me for a second and rolled his eyes. 'You know, I don't actually think he does know. You know he doesn't bother to learn the name of anyone he doesn't think is worth the time. I can prove it. Draco, what's the name of the dark haired boy sat next to you?'

I looked at the small boy, who looked back up at me. I decided to give it a shot. 'Norbert', I said. Just as the boy opened his mouth to speak, one of my Ravenclaw cronies opened the carriage door, looking supremely annoyed.

'Draco!', he said. 'Why aren't you sitting with us? We've all been waiting for you'.

'Look, Edward –'

'Eric', he corrected.

'-Edvar'- I stood up and whispered in his ear so only he could hear –'Don't you remember the plan?'

Edvar gazed at me stupidly, until a look of dawning realisation came over his face. I had continued the farce of pretending to be in love with Potter over the summer in my replies to my minions letters. Edvar attempted to wink at me subtly but instead blinked with both eyes and walked away. I sat back down, shaking my head.

Ron gazed dreamily out the window. 'Imagine if some git missed the train for an inexplicable reason and tried to drive to Hogwarts'.

'That would be stupid', Harry laughed.

….

As I entered the Great Hall I knew something was different from the moment I stepped into the place. There was an aura of great power and knowledge: I turned my head and saw none other than Gilderoy Lockhart in cheerful conversation with Professor Sprout. I should have known: from the moment I had read about his incredible exploits in his book I had realised I would be to encounter a most powerful wizard. As I sat with my Ravenclaw minions, I began to form my plans.

'Willow' – 'Mary', she corrected – 'Wilhelma, would you say that Professor Sprout and Gilderoy are close?'

'Well', she mused, 'I wouldn't say they aren't close. Look, they're having a really in depth discussion.'

I looked over at them: she was correct. Lockhart was winking at Professor Sprout, who had turned red. Obviously their discussion was so secretive and important they were discussing it in code. I was just leaning forward in an attempt to hear some of their conversation when, typically, Dumbledore ruined everything by standing up and tapping his wineglass so it rang. Everyone immediately went silent.

' Before we begin tonight's delightful feast, may I welcome Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, our marvellous new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!' He promptly sat back down and we all began to eat. As I put 2 whole roast potatoes into my mouth at the same time, I hoped Lockhart wouldn't be as good at teaching as he was in real life. If my classmates were actually competently taught in Defence Against the Dark Arts this could pose serious issues in my rise to power.

As the evening wore on, I mused to my minions about what to do. Sarah was causing some issues with her independent thinking. 'But', she said, 'I don't understand what your plan to steal Lockhart's magic has to do with winning the heart of Harry Potter?'

'Get with the programme, Mary', said one of my smaller minions, a first year. 'This evidently links through – um –'

'It links because if I steal Lockhart's magic I will be more powerful and thus more impressive to the Boy Who Lived. Obviously.' They all nodded in agreement. 'The only problem is that I have no idea how to get closer to the man… he's an impenetrable wall of strength', I mused.

'What about not skiving off your herbology lessons?'

'Don't be ridiculous', I said. 'I use that time for very important things. You know this.'

The minion who spoke looked mutinous. 'I wouldn't consider looking at fashion magazines and trying to make new poisons as particularly helpful to your academic progress', they said. Ah yes: I now remembered the reason why my original Death Eaters hadn't been Ravenclaws. The obsession with hard work and academics did have the tendency to make them touchy if you swayed from this road. I decided not to tell them about the second stage of the plan, which was to kill Lockhart.

'Anyway', the minion continued. 'Herbology's actually pretty useful regardless. It would probably aid you in your poison – making skills'.

…

I glared at Professor Sprout. 'I think it's appalling that you aren't teaching us how to extract the poison from this Diaphinous Herb. It's extremely important for us to know. What if someone was extracting the poison in front of us, but as we hadn't been taught how to do it, we didn't realise? Someone could get into serious danger this way'.

Professor Sprout looked at me in a weary way. This was her first lesson I had ever been in, and while she had looked pleased at having another student when I first walked into the room, within five minutes she had begun to take on an anxious, hunted expression. I had to admit, my minion had really had a fantastic idea: I was enjoying myself immensely.

I had never really bothered going to Sprout's lessons the first time I had gone to Hogwarts either, preferring to spend the time bullying First Years instead. Sprout had never snitched on me. So it was to my great surprise that I felt something akin to happiness as I donned my gardening gloves and began to repot the herb. I almost began to feel relaxed, but thankfully realised in the nick of time and placed myself back into a state of alertness. To keep myself awake, I decided to grace Neville with my prescence.

'Neville', I said. He jumped.

'I didn't realise you knew my name', he trembled. He looked up at me shyly as he took out his trowel and began shovelling compost into one of the pots.

'Of course I do. I keep track of all of my minion's names. It's only polite'.

'What about Eric?', Neville asked. 'He's been your minion for half a year now and you keep calling him different names'. I was surprised by the fire in his comeback: tough talk from a small, freckled boy with a toad which got out more than he did. Also, I was unable to respond immediately as I was trying to recall who this 'Eric' was. Finally, it came to me.

'You mean Egbert?', I asked. 'Really Neville, you have to try to get his name right. I know it's difficult as he has such an unmemorable face, but it's rude not to'.

Neville said nothing, probably ashamed of his rudeness. We shovelled compost into pots for a while. Suddenly, Neville spoke. 'You seem a lot nicer than usual'.

'How do you mean?', I asked as I carefully lifted the herb out of its original pot, ready to rehome it. Neville's remark worried me. I had worked for a long time on creating a cold persona and was not ready to have a small boy disregard it. I needed his feedback so I could improve.

He shrugged unhelpfully. 'I don't know… you seem calmer maybe? Maybe it's the gardening, I think it's good for you'.

Listen…the thing I implied last update about having an update schedule…I lied. I absolutely don't. From now on, to prevent any expectations the only consistency I can provide in regard to updates is that they will be inconsistent. Hope everyone is having an enjoyable spring time!