Draco’s Diary (Part 5)

20th  September 1996:

The instructions for fixing the Cabinet came today. I quickly used a spell to read them. It was quite complicated. Borgin had told me that there was a spell that would be needed to be cast twice a day to fix the Cabinet. It depended on how broken it was. And I had gone to the Room of Requirement to see it. It was straight-up AWFUL. I could only hope for the best. I went down to the Room to cast the spell once. It was really easy to spot because it towered above all objects. I picked some things up at random and put them inside, just to see how it worked. But when I opened it back the things were all there. Of course they’d be there. Why was I excepting it to even work?

Feeling a little dejected and pleased at the same time, I went to the library to do some reading on the Vanishing Cabinet. I asked Madam Pince if any books were there on the aforementioned topic. She told me that the books would be available on the back shelves. I picked up a book called Mysterious Objects of the Wizarding World.

‘A Vanishing Cabinet is a magical item that conceals whatever is put inside it (including people) but also acts as a getaway if connected to another. Vanishing Cabinets were highly popular during the First Wizarding War; in the event of a Death Eater attack, one could simply disappear to the other cabinet until the danger had passed.’

            I didn’t need to read more because luckily for me, a pair of Vanishing Cabinets sat in Borgin and Burkes and Hogwarts, which make them absolutely perfect for my mission. But my only problem was fixing it.

            School was getting really difficult. We were studying as thought we had exams every day. Thank goodness I dropped three subjects. I don’t know what would happen if I took even one more subject. It would probably drive me mad. I went towards the dungeons and into my dormitory and then to the common room to do my homework.

            Speaking of homework, Potter was suddenly a Potions prodigy. I didn’t think Potions through his thick skull because I know for a fact that he got fail grades on at least 5 of his Potions assignments last year.

            Potions didn’t take a lot of time. I quickly did Ancient Runes homework and translated the story ‘The Tale of Three Brothers’ using the Spellman’s Syllabary. Defence Against Dark Arts was really easy as compared to all the other subjects but Transfiguration was the most difficult of them all. Professor Sprout didn’t really give much homework. I started feeling sleepy and packed away my books and went to sleep.

Written by Snigdha Tiwari



Weekend special!

What’s the best way to spend your weekend during a pandemic?

Here are a few tips I would love to share.

1 – Spend some quality time with your family

Weekends are the best time to have a good time with your family. During the weekdays each family member has school/house or office work. Now is the best time to watch a movie together, or go for a small walk in the nearby park or field etc.

2 – Get a technology break

Technology is the only way to do something during covid. Online classes, Online meetings etc. This weekend take a break and relax. Read a book, enjoy with your pet (if you have one) or maybe do some art.

3- Exercise

Doing exercise keeps you mentally and physically healthy (keeping both of these things healthy is important in a situation like this). It’s not important for a heavy workout. Some breathing exercise in the morning and a jog in the evening is good enough.

If you like what I wrote, subscribe for more! Comment for suggestions or thoughts you have for the above post!

Proofread by Snigdha Tiwari


Pablo Picasso

Pablo Picasso is a world famous Spanish painter, sculptor and theatre designer whose paintings today are worth more than 1 billion dollars. In around 1907 Pablo Picasso, along with his friend Georges Braque, invented a new style of painting called cubism. Inspired by African sculpture, Picasso and Braque used simple shapes and a small range of colours to paint objects, people and landscapes. His most famous painting is Guernica. The painting is a large 1937 oil painting on canvas. It is one of his best-known works, regarded by many art critics as the most powerful anti-war painting in history. Guernica is also Picasso’s biggest painting. He always drew vivid and bright paintings, each of his paintings had a deep meaning.

Podcast- https://anchor.fm/kaashvi1/episodes/Pablo-Picasso-e13dlql


Digital art

Digital art is a term used to describe art that is made or presented using digital technology. This can include things like designing character graphics for video games, developing animated videos for company advertising, creating 3D animation etc .

The above is a digital masterpiece by junior artist Namya Narang . She became a fan of this mode of art during lockdown and today is making wonderful pieces . Just like her , find something new . Now is the best time for a new hobby !



(special thanks to Namya Narang for sharing her pics)



Draco’s Diary (Part 4)

1st September 1996:

For the rest of the holidays, Mother was quite relaxed and as a result, I was too. Aunt Bellatrix had started teaching me Occlumency. Emptying yourself of emotions was proving to be very difficult. The Dark Lord has been using some other place for his meetings, thankfully. Greyback kept bringing me reports of Borgin’s progress with the Cabinet regularly. It wasn’t very promising.

I said goodbye to Mother and gave her a quick hug. All the non-Slytherins parents and students were staring at us. But I didn’t lose control. I had expected this and by the looks of it, so had Mother. I jumped onto the train and ran to the Slytherin carriage. Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle were there. “Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle.” I addressed them. “Malfoy.” They answered back. Just then, Parkinson came in. “Draco!” she squealed. She hugged me and I returned it half-heartedly. “Is something the matter, Draco?” she frowned.

            “Oh, um, nothing, just feeling a bit under the weather.” I murmured.

            “Oh, no! Tell me if you feel worse, all right?”

            “Fine.” I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

            Soon, the compartment started filling.

            Parkinson had started telling everyone about her vacation in France, where some of her relatives lived. Apparently, she’d went to see the French Ministry of Magic which was located in Paris. It was supposed to be very beautiful. Then someone knocked on the door. “Come in.” I said. A timid looking second year entered. “H-Hello, I’m s-supposed to deliver this to a-a Mr. Blaise Zabini.” She held out a piece of parchment tied with violet ribbon. “That’d be me.” Blaise said. He opened the parchment and read it. “Oh goodness.”

            “What’s the matter?” I asked.

            “Read it,” he said with a disgusted expression on his face and threw it towards me.

Blaise, it read,

            I would be delighted if you join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.

            Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn.

            “Slughorn?! What is he doing here? I thought he’d retired!” I exclaimed.

            “Who is Slughorn?” Parkinson asked.

            “He’s a Potions professor.” I answered.

            “Why’s he come out of retirement?” she asked again.

            “How am I supposed to know?” I replied, feeling extremely annoyed now.

            She looked a bit offended but didn’t say anything regarding it. Blaise left with a surly expression. Parkinson then proceeded to ask everyone about their O.W.L results. Crabbe and Goyle got just 3 O.W.L.s each. Parkinson got 7 O.W.L.s. Bulstrode got 5 O.W.L.s. Nott passed 4 of them. And Daphne Greengrass passed 8. I was very happy that I had the highest marks out of the Slytherins but I didn’t show off. ­Nearly everyone shared what they did in the vacations, except for Nott, Crabbe and Goyle for about an hour. I wondered who’d get the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. Probably Professor Snape as he’d be out of a job if he didn’t get the DADA one. Everybody quietened down. Some read books, some were going through the new textbooks, some were playing Gobstones. Time passed. I felt quite nervous about the mission. To distract myself, I reached up for my trunk and pulled out the Potions book ‘Advanced Potion-Making’ by Libatius Borage. I saw the table of contents. They all seemed difficult. An Elixir to Induce Euphoria and Draught of Living Death! They were supposed to be reallydifficult potions. When I looked up, it was getting dark. I wondered how long Zabini was going to be. And just then, he entered. He wasn’t able to shut the door. “What’s wrong with this thing?!” he said angrily. Then somehow the door pushed open, hard. Zabini, still clinging onto the handle, toppled sideways into Goyle’s lap. I thought I saw something white flash in the middle of the air. When I looked back at them, Goyle and Zabini were snarling horribly at each other. Then, Goyle slammed the door shut and flung Zabini off him and the latter collapsed into his eat looking ruffled, Crabbe returned to his comic and sniggering, I laid back across two seats with my head in Parkinson’s lap. She stroked my hair off my forehead.

            “So, Zabini,” I said, “what did Slughorn want?”

            “Just trying to make up to well-connected people,” said Zabini, who was still glowering at Goyle. “Not that he managed to find many.”

            “Who else had he invited?” I demanded.

“McLaggen from Gryffindor,’ said Zabini.

“Oh yeah, his uncle’s big in the Ministry,” I said.

“– someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw –“

“Not him, he’s a prat!” said Parkinson.

“– and Longbottom, Potter and that Weasley girl,” finished Zabini.

I sat up very suddenly, knocking Parkinson’s hand aside.

“He invited Longbottom?”

“Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there,” said Zabini indifferently. “What’s Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?” Zabini shrugged.

“Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at the Chosen One,”

I sneered, ‘but that Weasley girl! What’s so special about her?’

“A lot of boys like her,’ said Parkinson. ‘Even you think she’s good-

looking, don’t you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!”

“I wouldn’t touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked

like,” said Zabini coldly, and Parkinson looked pleased. I sank back across her lap and allowed her to resume the stroking of his hair.

“Well, I pity Slughorn’s taste. Maybe he’s going a bit senile. Shame, my

father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favourite of his. Slughorn probably hasn’t heard I’m on the train, or –“

“I wouldn’t bank on an invitation,” said Zabini. “He asked me about Nott’s

father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry he didn’t look happy, and Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters.”

I was angry, but forced out a humourless laugh. “Well, who

cares what he’s interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher.” I yawned ostentatiously. “I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what’s it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?”

“What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?’ said

Parkinson indignantly, ceasing grooming me at once.

“Well, you never know,’ I said. ‘I might have – er – moved on to bigger

and better things.”

            Everyone was either gawping at me or had a look of curiosity upon their face. Parkinson resumed stroking my hair, looking dumbfounded.

            “Do you mean — Him?

            I shrugged. “Mother wants me to complain my education, but personally, I don’t see it as important these days. I mean, think about it… when the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone’s got? Of course he isn’t… it’ll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown.”

            “And you think you’ll be able to do something for him?” asked Zabini scathingly. “Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?”

“I’ve just said, haven’t I? Maybe he doesn’t care if I’m qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn’t something that you need to be qualified for,” I said quietly.

Everyone was absolutely surprised. “I can see Hogwarts,” I said, relishing the effect I had created. “We’d better get our robes on.”

Goyle reached up for his trunk; as he swung it down, I heard a gasp of pain and I looked up the luggage rack, frowning. It was probably a voice I had imagined and let it pass and pulled on my robes, locked my trunk and fastened a thick travelling cloak around my neck. But as I was putting them on, I connected the dots. The white flash and the gasp of pain. Someone could be spying on us.

“You go on,” I told Parkinson, who was waiting for him with her hand held out as though hoping he would hold it. “I just want to check something.” She left.

Petrificus Totalus!” I yelled, pointing at the luggage rack.

And sure enough, someone was spying on us. Who could that someone be but Potter?

“I thought so,” I said jubilantly. “I heard Goyle’s trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back…” My eyes lingered a moment upon Potter’s trainers. “That was you blocking the door when Zabini came back in, I suppose?”

“You didn’t hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I’ve got you here…”

And I stamped hard on Potter’s face. I heard his nose break and saw blood spurting everywhere.

“That’s from my father. Now, let’s see…”

I dragged the cloak out from under Potter’s immobilised body and threw it over him.

“I don’t reckon they’ll find you till the train’s back in London,” I said quietly. “See you around, Potter… or not.

And taking care to tread on Potter’s fingers, I left the compartment.

As I went outside, I saw Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and Parkinson waiting for me. We got ourselves a carriage and headed over to the gates. Filch opened them. He prodded us all with Secrecy Sensors, giving all the Slytherins some extra pokes. Goodness, the nerve of some people. Done with the check, we went to the castle. The Great Hall was as glorious as ever. The floating candles were my favourite part of the Hall. Parkinson started asking me what held me up. I told her to wait for everyone till every 6th year came. As everybody came, I started narrating the events. As I reached the nose-breaking part, I saw Potter come in with blood on his face. He looked incredibly idiotic. Every person on the table started laughing and clapping and I felt satisfied. That is what he deserves after putting my father in a cell on that horrendous island full of gloom and despair. Dumbledore did say something but I did not hear. I felt guilty. Guilty that he was going to be killed because of me. I wish I had gone to the good side before I came in this mess. The food appeared and I ate without heeding to what I was chewing. Dumbledore stood up and the Great Hall was silent at once.

“The very best of evenings to you!” he said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room. I saw his hand. It was dead-looking and I felt quite nauseated. Everyone started muttering. I was levitating my fork and hardly paying attention. “Nothing to worry about,” he said airily. “Now … to our new students, welcome; to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you …” I kept tuning in and out and kept staring at his hand.

“Mr Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. “Those wishing to play for their house Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.

“We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn,” Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow, “is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master.”



“Professor Snape, meanwhile,” said Dumbledore, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, “will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

All the Slytherins started applauding and Snape raised a lazy hand in acknowledgement to our clapping.

And then I was lost in my thoughts about how I’d kill Dumbledore, how Borgin would give me instructions for fixing the Cabinet, how Greyback could send me reports. I woke up from my thoughts when I heard the screeching of the benches, I went to the dungeons. I didn’t know what the password was, though. Just then, Parkinson came hurrying up and said, “The password is Serpentem Vectem!” “Thanks,” I said back. I hurried into my dormitory and unpacked my trunk and put on my night suit. Aunt Bellatrix told me to empty myself of all emotion and thought. It took some time but I did it in the end. I pulled the covers and went to sleep. What seemed like a second later, I was having a nightmare. My parents were being tortured; they were screaming, and I was just standing, watching them. I woke up, panting heavily. I got up, went to the far end of the dormitory, felt for the jug and poured myself a glass of water. It’s okay, it’s okay, it was just a nightmare, that wasn’t real, I consoled myself. i went back to bed and I slept after just a few minutes.

-Know more about Occlumency: https://www.wizardingworld.com/features/a-guide-to-occlumency

-Know more about Azkaban: https://www.wizardingworld.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/azkaban

Written by – Snigdha Tiwari



Father’s day

Cupcakes, balloons, gifts and parties were the ingredients to make a perfect father’s day. The joy on his face was all I needed to see for a perfect day ahead. By what I know whatever I gave to my father he would love it. He didn’t like it because it was made from scented markers or from golden and red glitter, he liked it because it was made by his darling child and that’s all he ever wanted. We celebrate this day to honor our dads and for everything they do for us. From the day when Sonora Smart Dodd dedicated this day to her father who was an army general who lived with his 6 kids, this day became a part of everyone’s annual calendar. At the end of the day, without a fathers continuous support , love and care we would not be able to move forward. Whoever in this world has a father is blessed .  

Written by – Kaashvi Datta

Age – 12

Self composed



Draco’s Diary (Part 3)

15th July 1996:

The O.W.L results came today. I open the envelope with trembling hands:


Pass grades: Outstanding (O)

                     Exceeds Expectations (E)

                     Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades:   Poor (P)

                      Dreadful (D)

                      Troll (T)


Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: A

Charms: E

Defence Against the Dark Arts: E

Herbology: E

History of Magic: A

Potions: O

Study of Ancient Runes: O

Transfiguration: E

I passed all of them! I have 9 O.W.L.s! I run to Mother and tell her. She hugs me and says, “Excellent! I am very proud of you! We will go to Diagon Alley on Saturday.”

            Mother must have told Aunt Bellatrix about my results because she too, hugged me and said she was very happy with me.

            I wish Father was here to share the good news too.

20th July 1996 (Saturday):

I got up at around 6 a.m. I tried to go back to sleep again but I couldn’t. I thought about the Vanishing Cabinet. I shivered even thinking about it. I grabbed a book from the bookshelf and started reading. Finally, it was 7 a.m. and I got out of bed and got ready and headed down for breakfast at 8:30 a.m. Mother was already there. She said, “We will go at 9:30 a.m. I will leave Bellatrix in charge of the house.” I didn’t want Mother to come but didn’t say anything.

            At last, it was 9:30. Mother and I went outside to Disapparate from the Manor. Mother held out her hand and we disappeared from the place. I absolutely detest Side-Along Apparition. It makes me want to throw up. We reached Diagon Alley. It looked very different. It was very dull and sombre. There were posters of escaped Death Eaters, including Aunt Bellatrix. It seemed very weird, seeing her posters all over the place.

            We first went to the apothecary to replenish my Potions ingredients. Then we went to Madam Malkin’s to buy me some new robes. I was very anxious that the Madam Malkin will see my Dark Mark while measuring. “I can shop on my own, Mother. You can go back home.” She looked very surprised. “I know you can, Draco, but we have to pretend that we are taking no part in the activities that are taking place in the Manor.”

We entered the shop.

            “Good morning Madam Malfoy and Mr. Malfoy!” She cheerfully said. Mother and I nodded and said, “Good morning.”

            “I will do the shopping on my own, Mother.”

            “It’s not safe Draco! He needs new dress robes.” She added to the shopkeeper.

I said, “I want those dark green dress robes. I’m not a child, in case you haven’t noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone.”

            Madam Malkin started measuring and made a clucking noise and said, “Now, dear, your mother’s quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own any more, it’s nothing to do with being a child —”

            As she accidentally stuck a pin on my left forearm, I shouted at her, “Watch where you’re sticking that pin, will you!”

            I saw in the mirror that Potter, Granger and Weasley had just entered the shop. I said spitefully to Mother, “If you’re wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in.”

            “I don’t think there’s any need for language like that!” Madam Malkin said, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack holding a measuring tape and a wand. “And I don’t want any wands drawn in my shop, either!” she added hastily, as Potter and Weasley were standing with their wands pointing at me.

            Granger whispered from behind them, “No, don’t, honestly, it’s not worth it…”

            “Yeah, like you’d dare do magic outside school,” I sneered. Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers.”

            “That’s quite enough!” said Malkin sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. “Madam — please —”

            Mother strolled out of from behind the clothes rack.

            “Put those away,” she said coldly to Weasley and Potter. “If you attack my son ever again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do.”

            “Really?” Potter sneered. “Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?

            Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart.

            “Really, you shouldn’t accuse — dangerous thing to say — wands away, please!”

            Potter didn’t lower his wand. Mother smiled unpleasantly.

            “I see that being Dumbledore’s favourite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won’t always be there to protect you.”

            Potter looked mockingly all around the shop.

            “Wow… look at that… he’s not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!”

            I made an angry movement towards Potter, but stumbled over my overlong robe. Weasley laughed loudly.

            “Don’t you dare talk my mother like that, Potter!” I snarled.

            “It’s alright, Draco,” said Mother, restraining me with her fingers upon my shoulder. “I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius.”

            Potter raised his wand higher.

            “Harry, no!” moaned the Mudblood, grabbing Potter’s arm and tried to pull it back. “Think… you mustn’t… you’ll be in such trouble…”

            Madam Malkin dithered for a moment on the spot, and then decided to act as though nothing was happening in hope that it won’t. She bent towards me.

            “I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just —”

            She was about to touch the place with Dark Mark. I panicked but hid it by pretending to be in pain.

            “Ouch!” I yelled, slapping her hand away. “Watch where you’re putting your pins, woman! Mother — I don’t think I want these anymore —”

            I pulled the robes over my head and threw them on the floor at Malkin’s feet.

            “You’re right, Draco,” said Mother, with a contemptuous glance at Granger, “now I know the kind of scum that shops here… we’ll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting’s.”

            As we headed outside, I saw that great oaf Hagrid. We went to Twilfitt and Tatting’s and got my robes. We also went to Flourish and Blotts to get my new books. I also went to Eeylops Owl Emporium to get some Owl Treats for Comet, my owl.

            Suddenly, an owl came and dropped a letter into Mother’s hands. She read the message with an impassive face. She said, “Draco, I have to go. You can give me your things.”

            “Okay, Mother.”

            I quickly handed her my things and then she Disapparated. I grabbed my chance and hurried off to Borgin and Burkes. As I went there, I passed the new shop, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. It seemed like an explosion of colours against the dull, poster-muffled stores. Some people were standing in front of it, transfixed. But I walked on.

            When I reached my destination, Borgin bowed deeply and simpered, “Good morning, Mr. Malfoy? How may I serve you today?”

            “There’s a Vanishing Cabinet at Hogwarts and it’s broken. Do you know how to fix it?”

            “Possibly,” said Borgin, in a tone that suggested he was unwilling to commit himself. “I’ll need to see it, though. Why don’t you bring it into the shop?”

            “I can’t,” I replied. “It’s got to stay put. I just you to tell me how to do it.”

            Borgin licked his lips nervously.

            “Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn’t guarantee anything.”

            “No?” I sneered. “Perhaps this will make you more confident.”

            I moved towards Borgin and unrolled my left sleeve, showing him my Dark Mark. He looked downright terrified.

            “Tell anyone,” I said, “and there will be a retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He’s a family friend, he’ll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you’re giving the problem your full attention.”

            “There will be no need for —”

            “I’ll decide that. Well, I’d better be off. And don’t forget to keep that one safe, I’ll need it.” I added, pointing to the Vanishing Cabinet behind me.

            “Perhaps you’d like to take it now?”

            “No, of course I wouldn’t, you stupid little man, how would I look that down the street? Just don’t sell it.”

            “Of course not… sir. ”

            He bowed deeply again.

            “Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?”

            “Naturally, naturally,” murmured Borgin, bowing once more.

            I felt quite pleased.

            I roamed all around Diagon Alley, thinking about the mission. Till the time Borgin manages to fix the Cabinet, I would need to think of some ways I could kill Dumbledore. Poisoning, cursing, torturing him into insanity or doing the Avada Kedavra were some of the ways I could murder him or as close to it.

            As I walked around, I saw that Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour had closed down. I really liked his ice creams, the chocolate vanilla sundae being my favourite.

            Surprisingly, a lot of time passed and I heard Mother calling out my name.

            We then Apparated to the Manor. I went to Greyback and told him to go to Borgin and Burkes to check on his progress once every two weeks and also made him swear that he’d tell nobody about the mission.

            I went to my room and kicked off my shoes and climbed onto my bed. I picked out a random book from my bedside table. It was Quidditch Through the Ages, one of my all-time favourites.

The first page. Introduction by Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore. I close my eyes to not let the tears shed. I don’t know why I want to cry, but I just do. I skip it. It’s good to do some forced reading. Keeps my mind off the things that are going on around me.

It must have been an hour or so when someone knocked on my door. “Come in.”

I granted the person entry. It was Mother. She looked happy and relaxed and I couldn’t help but smile too. Her smile was very infectious. They sort of illuminated this dank mansion. She said, “Come downstairs. Linnie,” she referred to our house-elf, “has prepared your favourite cream pie.” My mouth watered at the sound of the absolutely delicious dish.

            I hurried down the stairs towards the kitchen. Thank goodness the Dark Lord was somewhere else and not at our place. I was sick of his presence.

            Aunt Bellatrix was in the kitchen. She forced as a smile at me and said to Mother, “Cissy, I must go, the Dark Lord is waiting for me.”

            “Goodbye, Bella.”

            “Goodbye, Aunt.”

            “Goodbye, Narcissa and Draco.”

            She went outside and Apparated with the faintest pop.

            I asked Mother, “Has something happened? You seem happy all of a sudden.”

            “Oh, nothing.”

            ”I can’t believe it, Mother. I’m 16 now. I’ll be of age in a year. Obviously, something has happened.”

            “I’m telling you, nothing has happened.”

            “Oh, fine. Don’t tell me.”

            Linnie brought the pie. I dug into it. It’d been a long time since I’d eaten it. “It’s perfect, Linnie.” I complimented her.

            “Oh, Linnie is pleased Master likes it. Should Linnie make some more?” she squeaked.

            “No, no. I’ll burst if I eat any more.”

            I went back to my room. Mother was sitting on my bed. It’d been a scene far too familiar over the past few days.

“Hello Mother.”

“Ah, Draco. Come sit. I was just remembering the time I had taught you how to make a bouquet when you were about 10. Do you recall it?”

“Er — no.” I admitted sheepishly.

“Oh, never mind. Anyway, you don’t need those kind of skills nowadays.”

“Oh, er, yes. Yes.”

I saw the clock. It was 9 p.m. Mother saw me seeing it. “Oh, it’s 9. You should go to sleep.”

“Goodnight Mother.”

“Goodnight Draco.”

I resumed reading Quidditch Through the Ages and fell asleep quite quickly.


Draco’s Diary (Part 2)

7th July 1996: 

It’s the day. The day I will be branded with the Dark Mark. I quickly dress up and head to the dining room. Our house-elf bows deeply and says, “Breakfast shall be served in 5 minutes, Master.” And sure enough, in 5 minutes, I was being served bacon, kippers, eggs and toast. But my mouth was so dry, it’s like eating a carpet. Aunt Bellatrix enters the kitchen and I can see the happiness in every inch of her face. “I am delighted for you, Draco!” 

    “Thank you, Aunt.” I say, with a brave attempt at a smile.

Finished with my breakfast, I now head for the gardens to get some fresh air. I see the Dark Lord coming. I wait till he can see me and then I bow to him. 

    “Ah, hello, Draco. Are you ready?”

    “Yes, I am, my Lord.”

We walk to the living room he used yesterday. He says, “Sit down, Draco, sit down.” He then says a spell, “Tenebris marcam!” (A/N: The spell is created by me, so don’t bother searching it on Google.) The wretched skull and snake was slowly forming on my skin. And there it was, complete, that ugly tattoo I will be carrying for the rest of my life. 

Mother and Aunt were standing outside. “It’s done. I have been branded with the Dark Mark.” I said in a hollow voice. Aunt hugged me tightly. Mother gave me a watery smile. 

And I went to the large garden, enjoying the fresh air for the rest of the day, while I could.

8th July 1996:

Today, as I sat down on my seat at the dining table for breakfast, Mother came and said, “Draco, you are to meet the Dark Lord today for discussing a mission you have to do.” Seeing the frightened expression on my face, she comforts me and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there, right beside you.” 

At finishing my breakfast, I headed to the living room the Dark Lord uses for meetings. I slightly shiver as soon as I see him. “Ah, good morning, Draco.” 

“Good morning, my Lord.”

“Today, I will be giving you a task which I am relying on you to do.”

“What is the mission, my Lord?”

“Kill Albus Dumbledore.”

    As I hear these words, it seemed like someone threw a stone down my stomach. I reply in what I hope was a steady voice. “I am honoured, my Lord.”

“I am pleased with your devotion, Draco.”

He gestures for me to leave. I bow and head out and I walk this time. It starts to sink in. I have to kill Albus Dumbledore, the greatest Headmaster of Hogwarts and the only person The Dark Lord is scared of. 

I automatically go to my room and find Mother there. I start to cry. She holds me until I stop weeping. “Why?! Why did I have to be in this mess?! Why?!” I lament. She says, “It’s not only you who is in a mess. Your father is in a mess too. You have to save him. Save us.”

She goes to her chambers to talk with Aunt Bellatrix.

I know this is vengeance for Father’s failure. I just know. The Dark Lord excepts me to fail. But I won’t. I will find a solution.

I spend hours and hours thinking of how I can do it. During that time, I realized that I will need backup. In those hours I think of many things by which the Death Eaters can come into castle, including Apparition but I remember there are Anti-Apparition charms all around the place. Finally, I hit the answer. The pair of the Vanishing Cabinets. One is at Hogwarts in the Room of Requirement and the other at Borgin and Burkes. I heard Father mentioning it once. But the Hogwarts one is broken.

I went to Mother and ask her, “When are we going to Diagon Alley?”

She responds, “When your O.W.L. results come, so in about a week or two.”



Draco Malfoy’s diary

Most people have a good reason for doing terrible things. And so did Draco Malfoy. Lord Voldemort will slowly torture and then kill him and his parents. Read about the boy who had no choice: Draco Malfoy. Written by Snigdha Tiwari.

For people who have not read/seen Harry Potter and the Order or Phoenix and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and want to do so:

Do not read this if you do not want the surprise to be ruined.


6th July, 1996:

Father has been imprisoned because of Potter and his faithful sidekicks. The Dark Lord is enraged with the Death Eaters for not getting the prophecy from the Hall of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries. The Dark Lord uses the Manor as an operating centre for all his activities. I don’t come downstairs while he is here. The aura in this godforsaken place is miserable. Mother usually does not get out of her room. Only Aunt Bellatrix is allowed to go there apart from me. Whenever I see her, there are tears on her cheeks and her eyes are red and puffy.

                Today, Mother comes to my chambers and tells me that the Dark Lord has summoned me into one of our living rooms. My heart sinks. I know that the reason behind the summon is not good as he is displeased with us. I swiftly get up, and go downstairs, my expression neutral.

                As soon as I see the Dark Lord, a chill goes up my spine. My mother seats herself just opposite me. She is looking oddly blank. He softly says, “Come here, my boy.” I walk towards the seat on his right, but he gestures to the seat on the left side of the table, for the right side is reserved for those most trusted. He then hisses in his low tone, “Do you want your father to be released from Azkaban?”

I replied, “Yes, my Lord.”

“Will you take any measures to have him released from there?”

I repeat, “Yes, my Lord.”

“Do you also want to be a Death Eater like your clan?”

My voice is stuck in my throat. I look at my mother for some advice. She gives me the smallest of nods, and then returns to looking at the wall blankly. “Yes, my Lord. I will be a Death Eater, too,” I said feebly. Aunt Bellatrix looks elated.

                He says, “Very good. You shall be branded with the Dark Mark tomorrow.”

I stiffly nod and exit the room. I walk calmly until I am sure no one can see me, I break into a fast run. My world is crashing around me. In a fit of anger, I kick the wall and break my toe. I howl in pain. I just noticed; Mother was standing on my door. She gently says, “Shh, it’s okay. Shh. Episkey (A/N.- That’s the spell that heals broken bones). You’ll brave this, I have full confidence in you.”

                “What will I have to do, Mother?” I ask in a shaking voice.

                “I don’t know yet,” she replies, her voice equally quivery.

She then summons some hot cocoa and tells me to go to sleep.

Self composed and written by Snigdha tiwari