The school week had progressed nicely and there were very few surprises, save for the heavy amount of homework loaded on to the students.
Alexis sat quietly in class, listening in on mild chatter. She was about to begin ignoring everyone, until she heard a few words that caught her interest.
"There is still no word from mum, or dad, no surprise there. I sometimes wish they would take the time to care."
Her heartbeat quickened. She recognized those words.
"Then again, no one takes the time to really care, not about me, anyway."
Before she knew it, her body had moved itself in front of the narrator: Draco Malfoy. Her voice remained calm and it took every ounce of her strength to keep herself in check. "Return my diary to me. It's not an open book."
"Really? And what are you going to do about it? Write another oh, poor me, entry?" he closed the small book.
"Do I have to say it twice?" her eyes narrowed as she held up her hand.
"I don't know, maybe," he smirked. Then he stood up on the chair, and, much to his satisfaction, all eyes turned to him. Opening the book back up, he began to read once again. "I pity the fools who are dumb enough to do what I say. Sometimes I wonder if they can even think for themselves. Oh well, the world is full of followers and leaders. I'm just a leader."
"If you don't put my diary down, Draco, you will regret it." Her words were menacing and gave him chills for a moment.
"I don't care. I doubt there's anything you can do to me that'll stop me," he turned his attention back to the diary. "I wish that these old boring teachers would croak already. We need some new icons here. I could be a teacher. I could teach these asses something they could actually use. Half of them More than half of them can't even dress themselves and are in dire need of some sort of fashion help." Draco laughed out loud. "How about me, Saint Lexi? Do I dress myself to your satisfaction?"
"Ha," she replied sarcastically.
He turned the pages as she stood there in humiliation. "Don't you have anything interesting here? Where's the juicy stuff?" And then he fell silent with an OH! "Poor innocent first years have no idea about anything. It's almost fun to play with them. I wonder if getting them drunk would be fun. No, the little horn dogs would probably produce less than amusing results."
"Are you through?" she asked, her voice sounding a little bored.
"I don't think so. This modern stuff is dull," he turned the pages back toward the beginning. "Let's take a look at summer stories."
She noticed everyone move half an inch closer. "If you think this bothers me, you're wrong," she lied.
"I went to a party yesterday night. I only remember bits and pieces, though. It was some other rich kid's party so there was an open bar. I must say I had my fill! I wish I drank less, the next day I ended up with such a terrible hangover. And what I regret most was Adrian. Or Derek. Or both. I do think I regret them. They weren't that good, I don't think."
"You've done it now," she whispered. She mumbled a spell under her breath and he immediately dropped the diary.
"What have you done?" he writhed in pain. His fingers were turning backwards and crack after sickening crack the class cringed.
"I told you not to touch my things. It doesn't look like you'll be touching much of anything now, will you?" she said sweetly as she picked up her diary and brushed it off. "I suppose I'll have to make the effects more immediate whenever someone other than me touches it."
"Make it stop!" he yelled as he sat down, holding his hands in the air.
"Oh, they're only broken. It could have been worse. Yes, I could have done much worse," she replied, sauntering back to her seat.
Once the professor entered the classroom hell broke loose. Draco was screaming about his hands and finally she sent him to the hospital wing and gave them both detentions. Later that evening, Draco with fingers fixed, and Alexis with her diary hidden better, showed up to serve the punishment.
"Fancy meeting you here," she said sarcastically. He glared at her. "Is that any way to greet someone?"
"You broke my fucking fingers," he said through gritted teeth.
"You read my diary."
"Fine, we'll call it even," he replied. "For now."
"Fine then," she crossed her arms and they didn't speak for the rest of the evening.