Recap: "You're the one who started this" Draco reminded her smugly.
"Whatever" Hermione said.
"I'll go first!" Ginny said mischievously. Hermione closed her eyes. This was going to be a long night.
Draco was watching Hermione from the window at the Owlery. It was admittedly stalker-ish behavior, but he had a good reason. He had to be absolutely sure she was in Hogsmead before he began his plans.
He made his way back to his bedroom and spoke the password that removed the wards. He removed the diary from behind the bookshelf, and locked and warded the door.
Sitting at his desk, he opened the book to the next entry.
I'm leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow. I suppose I should be excited, but what was really new?
I will be seeing Harry, I guess. But I'll also be seeing Ron.
He's been such a jerk lately—ever since we started dating, really. I did like him, but it was friendship confused with attraction. I did have a small crush on him, but after a few months I realized we were better off as friends. I was going to tell him, before Lavender told me what she's been doing with Ron.
Ron said sorry, but even though I was going to let him down anyway, it still hurt. How can you trust someone who cheated on you?
Then, when I rejected him, he dated Parvati. I really wouldn't mind, except he's been flirting with me and asking me out every chance he gets. It's really unfair to Parvati, not to mention Lavender.
I've ignored him so far, but soon he's going to push me over the edge, and I'm going to try out a new curse I've learnt…
—Hermione
There was nothing really new here, so he began on the next entry.
Dear Diary,
Today was…interesting.
I was wrong—it wasn't Ron. It was Malfoy. So it must just be coincidence that the Heads have all married. There is no way that Dumbledore would want me to marry Malfoy. Even Dumbledore can't think that we would make a good match.
When I saw him in the Head compartment, my first thought was that… well… this is my diary, and unless I am incredibly careless, no one will read this. My first thought was that he looked… a lot better. I stood there, staring at him, for about twenty seconds before I looked at the Head badge on his robes. Okay, I admit it, he looked hot.
It's a good thing he didn't see me until I saw the badge—I would never hear the end of it.
Then I realized what that meant. I immediately asked him who he stole the badge off—admittedly rude, but what else was I supposed to think?
He replied that he didn't, and some other comment about my blood status.
After we did our Head duties—well, I did, anyway. I wasn't really sure about Malfoy; I was trying as hard as I could not to look at him—we arrived at the castle, and Professor McGonagall showed us where our Dormitory was. It was a very nice setup, but I suppose they would have to have a nice room if the people in it had to live with each other.
I did a little reading, and almost all of the heads have been from conflicting houses; Griffindor and Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, sometimes Hufflepuff and Slytherin, you get the idea.
We would have to share a bathroom and a dorm. There's a passage that leads to the Room of Requirement, and a private library. The library is quite well stocked, but this year I'm not going to spend all my time reading books.
Yours,
Hermione
Draco raised his eyebrows, wondering what she meant by the last comment, and internally ignoring what she had thought about him. So she thought he was attractive, so what? It didn't mean anything. He shouldn't get his hopes up.
Dear Diary,
Draco Malfoy is one of the most self-centered, big-headed people I know.
Yep. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.
He thinks that because he's a pureblood he gets to use the bathroom first in the morning! I should have expected it, but it's just logical for me to go first. He took forever with it, and I'm the girl! I suppose he needs a lot of time—and hairgel—to keep his head looking that awful. He looked a lot better without that crap, but I suppose it's good he's looking like someone polished his head. Ron would never forgive me if I even looked at him. Huh. Maybe I should look at him.
Whatever. This year, I'm going to be different. I'll have to act the same around Harry and Ron, but to Malfoy, I'll be like I used to be. Fun.
I can't be fun around the boys because they know I'm usually not. Well, not in the past few years. But around people that don't know me, like Malfoy… I can do whatever I want. He wouldn't be able to tell the difference: he never knew me. And if he did figure it out, no one would believe him over the golden girl of Gryffindor.
Draco stopped reading. So that's why she was so different this year. And why she talked to him. She didn't like him—she just wanted to use him, like a test.
His chest tightened, and he flipped to the last entry, just to give himself something to do.
I think I love him. I don't know. Is it love, when you can't picture a life without someone?
But he could never love me back. I'm plain, and I'm boring. He has plenty of other, much more beautiful, much more interesting girls that would love to have him. And we have nothing in common. Why would he want me, when he could have so much better?
If, a year ago, someone had told me I would fall in love with Draco Malfoy, I would have laughed and asked them what they were doing out of St. Mungo's.