The diary of an underappreciated little villain.
Day 1: Accepted to damned Hogwarts. A temper tantrum was in due order, for such a travesty.
Day 2: Father whacked me with snake cane for being little snot. On Mother's behalf, of course. Fuming at injustice of damned family. (And I mean literally, a damned family.) Decided to turn over new leaf, and be perfect angel. Then got whacked again for having a halo. Was really light glancing off of the excessive amount of hair gel.
Day 3: Maimed snake cane by throwing it into chamber filled with Blast-Ended Skrewts. Feeling v. evil and satisfied.
Day 4: Father searching madly for snake cane.
Day 5: He has even resorted to looking in the dungeons. Saw him come out of Pit of Hell with demon in tow. Would be v. good replacement for gibbering house elf.
Day 6: Father found remains of snake cane. He emerged with burnt hair and singed robes, carrying his cane as gingerly and reverently like it was his bloody only child. (Whereas I am his bloody only child and am being whacked about the head.) Informed me tacky cane actually conceals super-slick wand. Oops. Father whacked me on head with remains of cane, which promptly crumbled into ash on my hair. Bugger.
Day 7: Father bawling, shut up in his room. Really quite frightening for a Death Eater who never cried at his boss' downfall.
Day 10: Father got over loss of snake cane-wand and promptly dragged Mother and me to Diagon Alley to celebrate latest bout of evil snottiness. Big plus. Except also doubled as cane and school supplies shopping. Wanted to look at spiffy new racing brooms but first had to be fitted up in dashing robes. Wanted also to preorder Slytherin House winter cloak (v. v. dapper) but no go. Hmph.
Met ugly, spec-wearing boy in Madam Malkin's. Obviously one of those unfortunate purebloods who are Muggle lovers. Need to take him under my wing at Hogwarts, as a sort of charity project. V. good idea! If poor, will of course buy treats. Like contact lenses.
Great! Will be like dog I never had. When I was 6, Father tried to conjure up a magical dog but had no clue what he was doing. Like I told him, real dogs don't develop an odd and scary affinity for snake cane (-wand).
Day 15: On the train. Met up with Crabbe and Goyle, son of Crabbe and Goyle the equally blundering Death Eater pals of Father. Will definitely use for "cracking & smacking" my enemies. Met charity case again, sitting with Weasley, who is a walking poor box. And charity case blew me off!!
Anywho, charity case is actually Harry Potter, sworn enemy of Father's boss. (The Dark Lord.) Oops. Apparently Dark Lord covets his sworn enemies as much as his collection of vintage teddy bears. V. v. possessive, snakey fellow.
Got into Slytherin at Sorting. Ho-hum. What's new? Malfoys as predictable as Weasleys when being sorted. All the goodie-goodies sorted into Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw.
Saw one of my fellow Slytherins eyeing me from across the table. Was most surprised when Goyle told me something useful. Was greatly surprised when he told me fellow Slytherin was a girl. It was Pansy Parkinson from the Kilt-Killing Parkinsons. Huh. Had no idea would bear so much resemblance to a pug dog. (Well, they don't call her a bitch for nothing!)
Still, ugly pureblood better than hot Mudblood any day. Or so Father says. Really have to learn about not looking into his advice. What is he talking about?! Would rather have hot Mudblood any day.
Day 16: Flying lessons. Longbottom (hahaha) left v. shiny Remembrall in grass. Think have part-niffler brain. Anyway, flew with it and Potter followed, much like do-gooder niffler-dog. Demonstrated great throw and Remembrall hurtled like Bludger. Amazing display thwarted by Potter's apparently more amazing catch of Remembrall before nearly crashing into window.
Turned out to be McGonagall's office window, so she came striding out looking as rigid as if had broomstick for spine. (Not surprising for a professor who's a virgin.) Thought Potter would get in trouble. Yeah...if by trouble you mean being made Gryffindor Seeker.
Day 18: Goyle seems to be smarter-looking one, so asked him why people are so favorable toward Potter. He just stared at me blankly like the answer was obvious. Or maybe he didn't understand the noises coming out of my mouth. But if it was the former, well...yeah...okay...so Potter paid his future dues to the Dark Lord (paid with parents) and saved the wizarding world and all, but really...come on, now...
Day 19: Challenged Potter to a midnight duel. Was delayed by a lethal combination of five bottles of butterbeer, being cornered by Pansy Parkinson, and the fact that I passed out.
Day 20: Woke up with a hangover and also thankfully not remembering anything that happened the other night. (Pansy was looking dazed but doesn't seem to remember anything either. Phew.) During breakfast Potter threw me a resentful look. V. good! Am an only child + antagonist. V. good to be v. evil.
Day 30: Halloween. Never really knew what people saw in Potter but now have an inkling. Silly, neck-risking git went haring after mountain troll with Weasley. Snuck out of the dungeons to watch the action (and impending telling-off).
Encountered that Mudblood girl Granger. Asked if she was constipated and if the troll scared the shit out of her (haha). She said she was having a cry. Right. Then Potter came. Made comment about him having to use girls' loo and he said was just coincidence Granger was in there. Sure.
Had just jumped to first (and v. believable) conclusion when Weasley came. My eyes nearly buggered out of my head and I asked him what all three of them had been doing in there. He said they had been tackling a troll. Come on! I'm not a completely daft git. I know what happens when three people go to the loos to "tackle the troll". Gryffindor speak, more like, for "losing virginity".
Then saw McGonagall and Snape coming out looking dazed. McGonagall looked like her spine-of-a-broomstick had been (finally) shoved up her arse. When Quirrell followed them whimpering in v. unnerving way, decided had better go back to the common room and gag myself.
Day 38: First Quidditch match, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. V. funny display of Potter hanging off broom. Unfortunately got back on and went haring off after Snitch, much like dog. Or like I said before, do-gooder niffler-dog. Everyone knows Seekers are part niffler. Anyway, Potter caught Snitch in mouth. Always had sneaking suspicion Potter was bullfrog. (Even if Snitch could resemble golden fly.) Must explain how his specs magnify his eyes.
Day 53: Nothing really doing.
Day 61: Weasley got bitten by something (hope was dragon - imagine the irony), so taunted him in hospital wing while defenseless. (Or so I thought. Spine bent a bit in 's' shape but have developed evil stroll of doom.) Stole - er, borrowed - book with note sticking out of it. Thought could be interesting evidence like maybe love note from Longbottom (hahaha).
Actually note from the second oldest Weasley about large dormouse-eating bloke (a.k.a. gamekeeper) and his large dragon they're going to deliver. "They" as in the troll tackler Potter, Weasley & Granger. What are they, the Dragon Delivery Service? (Catchy name!)
Day 62: Plan chasing itself around in head.
Day 63: Have got it! Will catch buggersome trio in act of delivering dragon.
Day 65: Dammit. Diabolical plan thwarted when caught. At least trio & Longbottom (hahaha) were caught. Better prospect but unsatisfying.
Day 67: Served detention with dormouse eater and goodie-goodies. Urgh. Tried to fake a stomachache but came out sounding frightened and panicked instead. Got put with Longbottom (hahaha) which is better than hanging with "troll tacklers". Lord knows what they do...
While on the beaten path looking for dead unicorn, asked Longbottom (hahaha) quite politely for a tissue as my hair gel started melting again after excess wear. He looked scared, sent up emergency sparks and I had to hang with Potter. Good grief.
I didn't really feel like making conversation, but Potter was perfectly happy to go blathering on and on and on. And on. How does he not put people to sleep? Thankfully we finally found the dead unicorn with a psycho in a cloak drinking its blood. For a second I thought it might be my long-lost, slightly mad, foreign Uncle Dracula.
But it wasn't. It was actually a psycho in a cloak. Screamed like a girl (there is no such thing as a yell of doom, after all) and ran off with the lantern. Ended up bumping straight into dormouse eater's fat arse and was temporarily knocked out. When I finally recovered from my fatal coma and stopped talking gibberish (something odd like, "Luke, I am your father!") we tramped over to where Potter was blathering amiably with a centaur.
Bloody blathering. Bloody amiably. With a bloody centaur! After seeing a bloody psycho in a cloak. Noticed Potter had applied a bit of stage makeup to make him look a bit bloody and beaten. He's already more famous than me, isn't that punishment enough?
Day 68: Have given up trying to figure out why Potter is so great. Don't see it at all. Except have theory that he may have been a sort of Egyptian slave girl who was taken away from her destitute lover to serve the sexual whims of the pharaoh. Or something. Something that would let all the good karma get on over to his side.
Day 69: Lucky day. Decided to analyze my life and see what I might have been in a past life. Seeing as how I am currently short, good looking, charming, devilish and rich with a damned family...I must have been a tall, ugly, revolting, angelic, destitute person with a loving and caring family who all died of the plague for refusing to serve the evil powers-that-be. In short...I was a Muggle. Ugh.
Day 70: Oh God, maybe I was Potter's destitute lover in a past life. Went down to the kitchens and kicked around the house elves to give me a few damn bottles of butterbeer. Just ten more bottles and I will forget anything I ever wrote about being Potter's destitute lover.
Day 71: Massive hangover. Thankfully is the weekend. And unfortunately Pansy told me she remembers everything that happened to me yesterday.
Day 73: Was Pansy's slave until Goyle told me what really happened. Pansy offered to be my slave but the last vestiges of a massive hangover prevented me from taking advantage of an otherwise great opportunity.
Day 75: Thank God I forgot everything.
Day 78: At breakfast I swore I saw Potter wink at me. What in the world can that mean? We're not friends, are we?
Day 79: Trying to ignore Potter’s odd behavior. It's like I did him some real big favor and he's befriending me. He keeps hanging around me like a bloody house elf. Checked my bank statements; all my money is still intact.
Day 81: Pretended to be sick to avoid Potter in double Potions. Was calmly lying in my bed reading Playwizard when Snape came barging in uninvited. He got down on his knees and groveled until finally I got up and went to class to antagonize Potter.
Or tried to, because he kept giving me those weird puppy dog eyes. Which were magnified with his specs. When I pushed my Potions book off the other side of my desk to try and tell Goyle to change seats (or bang my head against his and get a concussion, whichever) Potter came running over from his seat and handed me back my book. V. v. scary.
Day 85: Sadly, all of my long-lost memory came coming back when I saw Potter blow me a kiss during dinner. Good God! I stood up and pretended to have a choking fit and Crabbe smacked me on the back.
Day 90: Woke up in the hospital wing to Pansy Parkinson's satisfied face, with about three layers of makeup on it. Told me she’d been in the castle weight room. (Didn't even know the castle had a weight room.) She actually looked like a girl than a pug dog.
...After Crabbe smacked me on the back, I flew into the wall and got knocked out. I had to be carried to the hospital wing with Potter sort of whimpering at my feet. V. v. scary, I think. Pansy told me I had been in a coma for five days, and that she bitch-slapped Potter when they got into a fight over who would be my nursemaid and get to give me sponge baths. Good Lord!
Day 92: Sadly I think Potter and I were lovers in a past life. Dammit. Well, I guess I didn't think too much of him back then. As I just keep mooning over how much more famous he is than me.
Day 95: How in the name of arse could Potter and I have been lovers?
Day 99: Was in the loo when Potter came in. He said, "Don't you remember when we met in the loos that one time?" I had to resist beating him about the head.
Day 101: Frightened of meeting Potter in the loos unexpectedly. Have enlisted Crabbe as my bodyguard. As he is strong enough to put me in a coma for five days.
Day 102: Unnerved by Crabbe having to be there when I take a piss.
Day 104: Crabbe got frightened by a mouse when I was pissing in the urinals and jumped backward, nearly making me crash into the wall again. Managed to stop myself before moment of impact, but felt the wind knocked out of me and arse flattened.
Day 105: Immediately enlisted Goyle as my new loo bodyguard. To guard me from both Potter and Crabbe. Proving to be much better than Crabbe. He doesn't watch me taking a piss, for one thing.
Day 108: Didn't feel like waking Goyle for my early morning nature call. Found all the loos (even the girls') from the dungeons to the fifth floor locked. What the hell?!? Had to go to the seventh floor loo by Gryffindor Tower. Was just calmly taking a dump when I heard Potter and Weasley come in singing gibberish. Something like, "Pissing the night away." Good Lord.
Day 110: Double Potions. Potter asked to go to the loos and I asked, "Pissing the night away, Potter?"
Day 112: Potter is resentful about how I ignored him that time in the loos and for overhearing his little gibberish song. I think this will get him over me.
Day 115: Or not. I am irresistible.
Day 116: Confronted Potter sneaking behind Goyle into the loos. I just needed to take a piss but I went into a stall because Potter looked like he was going to go in the urinal next to me. I heard him go in the stall next to me and take a whiz. A big, long whiz. I said, "Look Potter, you're not my type. Stop coming on to me." And I left without washing my hands.
Day 189: Father sent me a letter that said, 'If you see the Dark Lord at school, tell him I said hi.' Why would the Dark Lord be at school? It's a bit late for his reincarnation via diary fiasco of a plan.
Day 200: Ho-hum. Nothing doing. Except Potter seems to have come to his senses and stopped trailing me like do-gooder niffler-dog that he is. Which is the biggest plus in my book. Emergency diabolical common room meeting during the night with Marcus Flint, etc. We were all just standing there in our boxers (with the exception of that sissy Terence Higgs, who has pajamas and probably two layers of briefs on under that) and supposed to be discussing the fact that three Gryffindors seem to have left their common room in the middle of the night. As well as the clever plot to get them in trouble. It was the troll tacklers! I reassured them that they were just off for another sex romp in the loos and went back upstairs to sleep.
Day 202: The end-of-year feast, finally. Have been looking forward to it for ages since I got here. The troll tacklers were back, and Potter was there after coming out of the hospital wing. He must have put on too much stage makeup and developed a magical flesh-eating rash.
Found out the troll tacklers went to find the Sorcerer's Stone and save it from the Dark Lord. And I never got to tell him Father said hi. I didn't even get to meet the snakey little overlord I’m supposed to be serving in order to carry on the family business of evil-doing.
Depressed as we didn’t even win the House Cup. I took off my hat in frustration but that didn't even go right. Bugger it all!
Day 203: Ah. Back at the Manor. There really is no place like home. I'm actually kind of glad to be back. I'm glad to see everything (in an evil sort of way). Even the house elf. And Father, with his shiny black snake cane-wand. He seemed kind of glad to have me back home, as he and Mother threw me a welcome home party. Afterwards he promised to buy me a broom and said, "Tell me what’s been going on at school, son." Kind of frightening, but v. good on the whole as we got to smoke cigars while we talked.
I was just talking about how the rise of the Dark Lord was thwarted (again). Nearly choked on a cloud of cigar smoke I'd been inhaling when I felt a sharp pain on my head that throbbed like hell. I'd been hit with Father’s brand new titanium snake cane-wand! (Damn the misleading black paint on it!) In my room, fuming at the injustice of my literally damned family once again.