Harry Potter - foresight reawakened - Draco's diary
foresight reawakened - Draco’s diary
02-25-05
02-26-05
*
It was Hogsmeade weekend. The sun shone brightly over the rooftops, the cobblestones clacked merrily under the students’ boots, and laughter and the raucous sounds of children out of school echoed through the streets. Draco was feeling good. He looked wonderful, Crabbe and Goyle had eagerly gone to Zonko’s instead of following Draco around like the stupid beasts they were, and Draco was free to go where he would.
As per Snape’s instructions, he bought a diary.
Not to write personal things, of course-anyone determined enough could break through the protection spells on someone else’s trunk. No, Draco would write about what he saw. He would write of the not-yets, in hopes that through them he could grasp the sometimes all too-certain future.
*
03-09-97
I bought this journal yesterday because if I’m really stuck with this second sight, it better damn well work for me and not the other way around. Snape says he can teach us to “bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death.” With this journal, I aim to trap the future. Just see if I can’t.
*
03-15-97
At 4am as I was walking back to Slytherin, I saw Potter and myself were kissing again in an alcove. I was drunk. It was disgusting. I was so wankered I snogged him right back, too. I couldn’t watch, even if they were only not-yets. Hopefully if I keep recording these sightings, I can find a way to prevent that horrific scene from ever happening.
*
02-18-97
While eating supper tonight I saw the unholy trinity overlapping the real trio and talking secretively amongst themselves. Then at quarter to eight, they left the hall. They were trying to be crafty about it, but I could tell something was up. I tried to follow them but Bulstrode got in my way.
*
03-25-97
The trio left the hall the same way again, at quarter to eight.
*
03-31-97
Not-Potter kissed not-me in the middle of the Potions classroom today. They were the only not-yets in the room. Thank Merlin-I couldn’t bear it if someone else saw.
*
04-01-97
They did it again. They’ve been leaving every Tuesday. If it happens again I’ll just circle it on the calendar in the back of this book. I’m tired of writing it down.
*
04-06-97
Potter kissed me in the alcove by the faery again. I was wankered. I don’t need to look back through these pages to see that it’s happened before, but coincidentally it was also on a Saturday morning. I will never drink on a Friday night or Saturday morning, no matter what happens. That should take care of it.
*
04-09-97
Pansy’s on again. She started today, which is why I was near the hospital wing in the first place. While the real Pomfrey was giving Pansy some Menstria Maladicta, I saw a not-Pomfrey talking to not-Dumbledore. “They couldn’t have known,” she said. “He never said a word about the bite to anyone! Poor dear.”
There was a suspiciously messy head lying on the hospital bed over which she stood. Above the bed, the painting of the woman tending a patient was empty of the nurse. “Poor Mr Potter,” Pomfrey said. She put a purple liquid into a needle and injected the stuff into his arm. Potter was very pale.
I have no idea what it all means. I have to get back to the hospital wing. If the pattern with the kiss and the trio means anything, I’ll need to go back next Wednesday afternoon.
*
04-13-97
Potter kissed me drunk again. It never ceases to anger me that he would take advantage of my drunken person. I’m going to spell his quidditch trousers with jellylegs. Wanker.
*
04-16-97
I spelled his trousers. It didn’t work-apparently that hex doesn’t translate from clothes to people. I should have tried it on Goyle first.
I went back to the hospital wing today just before noon; I told Pomfrey it was to get Menstria Maladicta for one of the younger girls. She gave it to me, and just as I was leaving I managed to cross closer to the not-yets as they were talking. I couldn’t be certain then, but I thought the potion might have been Wolfsbane. There are many royal purple potions, but few have the consistency of Wolfsbane. I should hope with my years in Advanced Potions, along with my special apprenticing with Snape, that I’d recognize Wolfsbane when I see it. The not-yets were talking about a bite, and if they meant a bite from a lycanthrope-highly contagious-than Pomfrey’s injections are fruitless as far as keeping Potter from becoming a beast, but are rather the proper steps for preventing the more dangerous changes in new werewolves.
I always knew Potter was a mangy cur. I just never thought he’d actually become one.
*
04-20-97
I avoided the spot by the faery tonight. I didn’t want to see the travesty that is indubitably there.
*
04-23-05
I waited outside the hospital wing around noon today. Not-Granger and not-Weasley were creeping about outside, scared out of their minds.
It was a lycanthrope bite. Potter nearly died on another of their hair-brained, misguided missions to protect wizardkind from the one man trying to save it.
They mentioned seeing my father, who had apparently escaped from Azkaban a short while before. I’m going to arrange a fireside chat with mother as soon as Snape gets out of class. I know she’ll be thrilled.
~*~
notes: thanks to CheeseDanish for the name of the witch’s cure to the menstrual cycle.
chapter-specific resource: http://www.timeanddate.com/calendar/index.html?year=1997&country=9 <= calendar for Draco’s diary
02-25-05
02-26-05
*
It was Hogsmeade weekend. The sun shone brightly over the rooftops, the cobblestones clacked merrily under the students’ boots, and laughter and the raucous sounds of children out of school echoed through the streets. Draco was feeling good. He looked wonderful, Crabbe and Goyle had eagerly gone to Zonko’s instead of following Draco around like the stupid beasts they were, and Draco was free to go where he would.
As per Snape’s instructions, he bought a diary.
Not to write personal things, of course-anyone determined enough could break through the protection spells on someone else’s trunk. No, Draco would write about what he saw. He would write of the not-yets, in hopes that through them he could grasp the sometimes all too-certain future.
*
03-09-97
I bought this journal yesterday because if I’m really stuck with this second sight, it better damn well work for me and not the other way around. Snape says he can teach us to “bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death.” With this journal, I aim to trap the future. Just see if I can’t.
*
03-15-97
At 4am as I was walking back to Slytherin, I saw Potter and myself were kissing again in an alcove. I was drunk. It was disgusting. I was so wankered I snogged him right back, too. I couldn’t watch, even if they were only not-yets. Hopefully if I keep recording these sightings, I can find a way to prevent that horrific scene from ever happening.
*
02-18-97
While eating supper tonight I saw the unholy trinity overlapping the real trio and talking secretively amongst themselves. Then at quarter to eight, they left the hall. They were trying to be crafty about it, but I could tell something was up. I tried to follow them but Bulstrode got in my way.
*
03-25-97
The trio left the hall the same way again, at quarter to eight.
*
03-31-97
Not-Potter kissed not-me in the middle of the Potions classroom today. They were the only not-yets in the room. Thank Merlin-I couldn’t bear it if someone else saw.
*
04-01-97
They did it again. They’ve been leaving every Tuesday. If it happens again I’ll just circle it on the calendar in the back of this book. I’m tired of writing it down.
*
04-06-97
Potter kissed me in the alcove by the faery again. I was wankered. I don’t need to look back through these pages to see that it’s happened before, but coincidentally it was also on a Saturday morning. I will never drink on a Friday night or Saturday morning, no matter what happens. That should take care of it.
*
04-09-97
Pansy’s on again. She started today, which is why I was near the hospital wing in the first place. While the real Pomfrey was giving Pansy some Menstria Maladicta, I saw a not-Pomfrey talking to not-Dumbledore. “They couldn’t have known,” she said. “He never said a word about the bite to anyone! Poor dear.”
There was a suspiciously messy head lying on the hospital bed over which she stood. Above the bed, the painting of the woman tending a patient was empty of the nurse. “Poor Mr Potter,” Pomfrey said. She put a purple liquid into a needle and injected the stuff into his arm. Potter was very pale.
I have no idea what it all means. I have to get back to the hospital wing. If the pattern with the kiss and the trio means anything, I’ll need to go back next Wednesday afternoon.
*
04-13-97
Potter kissed me drunk again. It never ceases to anger me that he would take advantage of my drunken person. I’m going to spell his quidditch trousers with jellylegs. Wanker.
*
04-16-97
I spelled his trousers. It didn’t work-apparently that hex doesn’t translate from clothes to people. I should have tried it on Goyle first.
I went back to the hospital wing today just before noon; I told Pomfrey it was to get Menstria Maladicta for one of the younger girls. She gave it to me, and just as I was leaving I managed to cross closer to the not-yets as they were talking. I couldn’t be certain then, but I thought the potion might have been Wolfsbane. There are many royal purple potions, but few have the consistency of Wolfsbane. I should hope with my years in Advanced Potions, along with my special apprenticing with Snape, that I’d recognize Wolfsbane when I see it. The not-yets were talking about a bite, and if they meant a bite from a lycanthrope-highly contagious-than Pomfrey’s injections are fruitless as far as keeping Potter from becoming a beast, but are rather the proper steps for preventing the more dangerous changes in new werewolves.
I always knew Potter was a mangy cur. I just never thought he’d actually become one.
*
04-20-97
I avoided the spot by the faery tonight. I didn’t want to see the travesty that is indubitably there.
*
04-23-05
I waited outside the hospital wing around noon today. Not-Granger and not-Weasley were creeping about outside, scared out of their minds.
It was a lycanthrope bite. Potter nearly died on another of their hair-brained, misguided missions to protect wizardkind from the one man trying to save it.
They mentioned seeing my father, who had apparently escaped from Azkaban a short while before. I’m going to arrange a fireside chat with mother as soon as Snape gets out of class. I know she’ll be thrilled.
~*~
notes: thanks to CheeseDanish for the name of the witch’s cure to the menstrual cycle.
chapter-specific resource: http://www.timeanddate.com/calendar/index.html?year=1997&country=9 <= calendar for Draco’s diary