Disclaimer: Don't own and never will.
Dear diary.
It's been just over a year since I last wrote in you and I have some good news. The pig of a man who was married to my mother has fallen victim to the Zabini curse and once again, I am left fatherless. Shall I cry? Be inconsolable in my grief? Stare mournfully at the sky that took him away from me and my mother? (He suffered a broomstick malfunction and plummeted to his death.)
No I don't think I'll bother. I hated him, he hated me, end of. And when his broomstick failed high above the ground and he plummeted to his death, I think the world improved ten-fold. You don't want his impure blood continuing to exist in our world.
I don't suppose I've told you about the Zabini curse, have I? No, it's not something my mother likes to spread about. See there's a curse placed on my mother by a wizard of exceptional strength. (My maternal grandfather no less!) Every man who marries my mother will die within two years. The spell only works with my family though, or I suspect that Auntie Narcissa would have used it against the blood traitor Andromeda.
Anyway, mum chooses some wealthy man, marries him and waits for the curse to do its work. It's actually pretty disgusting to watch mum flirting away like a teenager. She's doing it now, with that greasy git Albert Wester, a rich American half-blood industrialist. Care to take any bets as to when he'll drop dead?