The Bloody Baron and I just had a conversation about the house-elves, but he left rather quickly. Evidently he glides into our rooms at night when he thinks we're asleep, which is incredibly disturbing. He seemed quite surprised that I was awake and tried to wave his arms around at me menacingly, but I'm too bored to be bothered. The fact that I even had a conversation with him at all is proof of how bored I am.
It's been a while since I've updated the world about my plight against the house-elves, so I shall now provide an in-depth synopsis for anyone who may have forgotten, though that seems impossible. In the past two years, the house-elves have left notes in my food, turned my belongings orange, written notes on the mirror while I've been bathing and, finally, sawed the legs of my bed by minuscule amounts over an entire year until it was nearly on the ground. This year, they stole all of my socks. I had to go sockless. They also, I believe, rearranged all of the letters in my issue of Quidditch Monthly this month, as they were all backwards and impossible to read. It was beyond the abilities of anyone else in my dormitory at the time, and Nott can't be bothered.
Has anyone ever done anything about this? Of course not. 'You're just paranoid, Malfoy,' everyone says. 'Of course no one's lowering your bed bit by bit. You're just imagining it.' When, of course, it got so low that no one could pretend they hadn't noticed, people told me that the bed had, perhaps, got old. What sort of bed gets old and starts removing bits of its own legs?
Perhaps this Sleep Duel shall give me the opportunity to catch them. After all, I can't imagine they're aware of the fact that I shall be awake every night now. If they creep into my room to do something to my belongings, I shall have them and I will demand comeuppance. Dumbledore certainly can't let his love for the elves blind him if I've caught them at it.
It's not as though I can even eat anything. I'm hungry, if you wondered. It's been hours since dinner, but all that's in the dormitory is two chocolate frogs and a smashed cockroach cluster. I don't want chocolate. I'll probably starve before breakfast.
Do you realise there's not actually anything to do once everyone's gone to sleep? Millicent stole my homework so she would have something to do, so I've reorganised my trunk. I can now find anything in my trunk within fifteen seconds. I know this for a fact, as I tested it and timed myself.
Then I reorganised Nott's trunk. Did you know he has nearly fifteen galleons worth of knuts in the heel of a sock?
Then I reorganised Crabbe and Goyle's trunks. That took me an hour each, but you'll note that I'm still awake and I've got nothing to do yet. I suspect Millicent is asleep. In fact, I suspect that I'm staying awake for absolutely no reason, because she's probably asleep. It's been eighteen hours, and while I'm certainly not tired, I'm bored. Nothing is happening. All I can hear are the disgusting sounds of people sleeping.
Evidently, someone feels it appropriate for the sun to consume our lives. We have nearly eighteen hours of daylight now. Millicent, however, has whinged about this enough for the entire world.
Speaking of Millicent, she and I have decided to have a Sleep Duel. Starting this morning, we're going to see who can stay awake the longest. It's already been over eight hours, and I show no sign of napping. Millicent's going to lose, as I have a great deal of patience. Besides which, I've been up for over twenty-four hours before, and I can't imagine Millicent can claim the same. Sometimes I'm surprised that Millicent manages to stay awake for six hours.
Continuing on the Millicent train of thought, last week she gave my broomstick to Potter. Apparently, she thought it would be hysterical to force me to get it from him. This is no better than petty thievery, yet Professor Sinistra was rather uncaring when I informed her. I had to go all the way to the library, past the life-threatening librarian, past the Ravenclaws snapping at me for walking too loudly, and then I had to attempt to find Potter. Because, of course, he could not inform me where in the library. Since it's so large, he naturally thought it would be more interesting if I had to search for him.
Where was he? In the letter 'P' section. Of course. Where else would one look for 'Potter'? I can't decide if this was intentional on Potter's part, but when I told him it was a stupid joke, he seemed confused. That's inconclusive, actually, since I'm not quite sure he would even understand his own joke. Then again, it seems unlikely that Potter would go to the trouble of such a joke, since he's rarely intentionally funny.
In any case, two nights ago I discovered that my dressing gown was missing. I assume you're wondering where it was. Where was it, indeed? Potter had it. How did Potter get it? Millicent gave it to him. Why did Millicent give it to him? Because Millicent is Satan. Potter, at least, had the decency to seem unhappy about the whole affair when I retrieved it, but I've no doubt he was in on Millicent's cunning plan, despite his protests to the contrary.
The moral of this story is that this is getting ridiculous, Millicent is the bane of my existence and I've scheduled a conference with Potter for tomorrow evening after dinner. Of course, by that time I'll have been awake for about thirty-six hours, so if I'm not at my personal best, I can hardly be faulted. In fact, if I'm monosyllabic, I can hardly be faulted for that, either.
Since I have plenty of time on my hands, I think I shall spend the evening reorganising my trunk. Perhaps I'll thumb through Nott's copy of The Muggle and the Duel, since that seems to be what he's reading now. Honestly, why must we have fiction about Muggles? How boring. Ever since Nott's moved back into our dormitory, there's been nothing but trouble. He leaves books steepled all over the place, he's certainly not a team player and he won't stop talking about the time that he switched McGonagall's robes to pink and she never found out it was him. Oh, I likely shouldn't have said that here. I suppose, however, that Nott at least makes acceptable conversation.
I burnt the roof of my mouth at dinner and I can feel the skin hanging off. It's disgusting. I feel compelled to cut it off with a tiny pair of scissors, but I imagine that wouldn't work. Much like being unable to put ice water directly into my veins, I once again find myself thwarted by the unfairness of the human body.
I actually haven't got anything to discuss at the moment, so consider this journal entry filler.
It's pouring rain, which means today was even more horrible than it already would have been. I hate Sundays. The majority of the day is dedicated to dreading the return to lessons and boredom on Monday, and the weekend is already over. The weekend only truly lasts about fifteen hours, depending upon how long I am awake on Saturday. Friday is useless, Sunday is irritating, and then Monday rolls around again. Now it's thundering and lightning, so the entire evening shall be noisy and annoying.
Pansy has detention with Granger tomorrow, which is greatly unfair. It's certainly not Pansy's fault that Granger is so stubborn. Everyone owes me money, as I do think Pansy won their row. Despite the fact that Granger has now hit me twice in my life, I'm still rather surprised that she got into an altercation with Pansy. Lord, I knew she was attached to books, but that's ridiculous.
For some reason, some people evidently think that I'm a liar. When have I ever told a lie? I happen to be one of the most honest people in this castle. In fact, I think that the people who think I'm a liar are the actual liars themselves. Weasley, for one, frequently calls me a liar, and I just saw him tell a lie on this journalling system two days ago. Calling me a liar is slanderous. Surely that isn't the best insult people can come up with. I am quite through discussing the subject.
This evening Bones was crying at dinner because, apparently, she'd only just discovered that Romeo and Juliet die in the end. I can't imagine why I find that so amusing.
Are we really supposed to believe that Dumbledore was off making up jobs for Lupin to do while we were all being shovelled into the Great Hall? I realise he's got some strange sort of obsession with Lupin, but he could have at least come up with an actual job for him to do. 'Assistant' librarian? Please. Now Pince shall likely take this out on the rest of us. As if she wasn't bad enough already, now we've got to deal with her when she's been given reason to sulk. Perhaps if we're lucky she shall take it out on Lupin instead. Regardless, I don't see why this had to be done now of all times, when we all have to frequent the library. I do hope he remembers to take his potion. After all, students are going to be in the library all night for the rest of the term. All it takes is one act of carelessness, and everyone could be killed. One of them could even be me. I, of course, do most of my revision in the common room, but one does need to visit the library on occasion in order to acquire books.
Yesterday in Transfiguration we had to transfigure desks into pigs. Then, naturally, Turpin had to wonder what happened to the pigs when they got turned back, as it seems every time we do Transfiguration involving animals, someone has to complain. Who cares? I didn't see anyone complaining about my rights when my watch was ruined in Charms earlier. Nor, for that matter, do I recall anyone being upset about my rights when that brutish hippogriff savagely slashed my arm open in third year. In fact, if memory serves, which mine always does, Turpin called me a beast over that at the time. Yes, that's correct. What a beast I was for getting my arm in the way of its talons. I could have hurt it.
Why must everyone in the castle be so ridiculous? I was brushing my teeth in the boys' lavatory after lunch and Macmillan came in, only to harass me for brushing my teeth. He seemed to think I shouldn't do it in public. I'd not been aware that the toilet was considered a public arena. I suppose I should have brushed them, oh, I don't know, underneath my bed, as that's the only private place in Hogwarts I can think of. Anyway, it only took a few moments for me to discover that Macmillan seems to be revolted by anything that has to do with teeth. It's nice to know that the people of Hogwarts are so open about sharing what alarms them. Weasley and his spiders, and now Macmillan and his teeth. I do think he overreacted when I pointed this out in History of Magic after lunch, but he is a Hufflepuff.
It's been delightfully cold out lately, as compared to three days ago when it was hot enough to make me wish I had the ability to inject ice water directly into my veins. Cold weather is far superior to warm weather, if you ask me. At least when you're cold you can put on a duvet, but certain levels of heat simply cannot be fixed. The dungeons get especially warm in the summer, although I suppose the fact that they're freezing in the winter makes up for it. I suppose the cold weather won't last and it will get hot again. I despise the summer. I can hardly bear to keep torches lit as it makes it even warmer.
I believe the scent of skunk is finally gone from the Astronomy Tower. We had Astronomy last evening and there were minimal complaints about the bizarre odour. Of course, Professor Sinistra denies that there was ever a smell at all, but we all know better than that, don't we? I hate Astronomy lessons. We have to have them with all four houses, imagine. Sinistra seems to be giving us a ridiculous amount of information within a rather short period of time, especially considering that our N.E.W.T.s are not far off and all of this will be included on them, but since I did well on my Astronomy O.W.L.s, I remain unconcerned. Everyone else is rather panicked about it. Including certain Gryffindors, who are clearly ignoring the fact that they own certain models of the universe that would certainly be of assistance.
Millicent has finally left my bed, as she claims I hog the covers. I had a nightmare on Tuesday, and rather than asking me if I was all right or offering me a soothing glass of water, Millicent punched me in the shoulder and went back to sleep. Now she's pretending she doesn't remember the incident at all, but one would think that she would remember being shoved onto the floor.
If you must know, I had an altercation with Potter after the Quidditch match Saturday evening. Why yes, I am, in fact, referring to the ridiculous rematch we were forced to have in order to ascertain that Gryffindor would win the Quidditch cup. I shall report on that further down in this entry. For now, the topic at hand is the quarrel I had with Potter. I expect most people aren't aware that Potter's been pestering me ever since our last match. You know, the match that I won. He's been bothering me since then, due to the fact that I no longer speak to him. I can't imagine why he'd be surprised.
Recently I warned Potter that if he didn't answer an inquiry of mine, I'd not speak to him ever again. It would seem that he's incapable of reading English, as he clearly didn't take that to heart. Now that he's discovered that I'm truly ignoring him, he won't leave me alone with his constant barrage of owls and attempts to pull me aside after lessons. Really. As though I have the time to participate in little conferences after lessons. Crabbe and Goyle are always quick to dispatch such unpleasantries, fortunately, so I've managed to avoid his nasal voice for the past week, aside from the unavoidable sound of it in lessons. Nonetheless, after our ludicrous seven minute Quidditch match on Saturday, I decided to confront Potter myself.
It would appear that the Gryffindors have no shame, since they were spotted celebrating on Saturday evening. I don't see what they've to celebrate anyway. It's not as though the rest of them did any of the work. Potter caught the Snitch before anyone even scored, so it's not as though the Weasels added anything to that. Actually, that's something I've always found quite odd about Quidditch, but I suppose that shall have to wait for another time. They were, as I said, celebrating, quite noisily I might add, so I had to wait until some of them left to get food. They were still wearing their Quidditch robes. How very tacky.
I quite calmly confronted Potter in regards to matters I'd tried to bring up with him earlier, and for some reason he felt it was appropriate to get into a yelling match. It seems I managed to horrify him, so I hope this means he's going to leave me alone now. Either way, I'm quite irritated and have been ever since. Today in Care of Magical Creatures, he kept sending me little angrily apologetic looks, but I've had quite enough of him. I don't know why people in this castle don't take my threats seriously, but I suppose that will teach you. I'm sick of it. Potter can yell at me all he likes. I'm able to use Silencing Charms. He's got himself into his own mess, and I'm not going to bother waiting to see if he's able to clean it up. Why anyone thinks I'd bother with such pointless things is beyond me. In fact, I think I shouldn't have deigned to speak to Potter on Saturday in the first place. I must admit I did so because I was irritated, but now I wish I'd just never spoken to him at all, as I suspect he believes I'll now be budging in regards to speaking to him. Yelling is hardly the same. Everyone in this castle is completely unfair.
As promised, my report on the match. I barely got to be on my broomstick. My last Quidditch match at Hogwarts and I was in the air for less than ten minutes. Everyone's now saying it 'serves Slytherin right', but I can't imagine they'd be saying the same about Gryffindor, had we won. We all know Slytherin actually won this match, last week, when I caught the Snitch. Twice. We only lost this week because Potter's a rude, insignificant beast.
To make matters worse, both of our Quidditch teams have been assigned our detentions. I've to clean the trophies with Landgreen on Friday, which will undoubtedly be an experience of great joy. Lord, he's not even in my year. He's practically a child. Why do I get assigned these things?
So that's the last of my being the Slytherin Quidditch captain. I'm not certain how I feel about that, actually, as it's something I rather enjoyed, and now I've no activity to pursue for the rest of Hogwarts. We're leaving in about six weeks, anyway, but Quidditch is the only thing I enjoy here. The Slytherin Quidditch team shall fall apart without me next term, I imagine. Perhaps they'll put me as the new Falmouth captain when I leave Hogwarts. Do you realise that if I don't play professional Quidditch, I'll never participate in a true Quidditch match again? The sport will suffer a great loss if I don't decide to become a Seeker when I leave. We have a pitch at the Manor, and I'm certain Father could arrange for some players to come, but it's not quite the same as being a team captain.
My Father is in Paris, and I can't decide if I'd rather be at the Manor or there. Normally, at any given time I wish I were at the Manor, but I do enjoy France, despite their stubborn inability to speak English.
Millicent's been sleeping in my bed since Saturday, and I don't see why no one's doing anything about it. If I were to up and sleep in Pansy's bed for two nights straight, there would be quite a commotion made. Millicent is the one who is more likely to do something rude to me while I sleep, yet this just carries on. There are romance novels and biscuit crumbs in my bed. Tonight we're planning to write essays and revise for our N.E.W.T.s, which will be terribly interesting. Millicent's essays are always ridiculously long because she refuses to write paragraphs. She feels the need to change lines after every sentence, and the professors stopped allowing her to turn in essays when she was only writing twelve sentences for twenty inch scrolls. Now she just gets assigned word counts while the rest of us are left to toil on with scroll lengths. Sometimes I wish Millicent went to Beauxbatons.
Mother looked ravishing, despite the fact that she took a slight spill off her broomstick when we were flying in the afternoon. She nearly twisted her ankle. She's quite all right. Unfortunately, her elf died in the evening. Mother's quite upset about it as she was fond of her. It does happen. It was all rather alarming.
As no doubt everyone knows, yesterday was the final Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. I suppose five hours made it a long match, but really, it wasn't that long, so I don't see what people are complaining about. If no one had realised, a list of all the Quidditch fouls was making its way around the castle last week. I myself suspect a Gryffindor got hold of it. Slytherin, naturally, didn't partake in examining it. Clearly some people got ideas from it, which is precisely why no one's allowed to see it in the first place.
The match started off oddly, as Gryffindor scored three times in a row. At one point we both scored at the same time, which is always quite an ordeal as someone always tries to contest it. Professor Sinistra was serving as referee, since everyone seems to agree that she hates everyone equally. I don't imagine that's precisely true, though, as there's absolutely no reason at all that Gryffindor should have received three penalties within the first hour of the match. It is most unfortunate that Professor Sinistra was crushed between Gross and Kirke so early on. She did manage to right her broom, but someone evidently turned her into a skunk. How odd.
In any case, shortly after Professor Sinistra was taken out of the game, I spotted the Snitch. Who knew using a Summoning Charm on the Snitch was a foul? Certainly not me. I don't see why it should be. After all, I would have caught it anyway. I just made it go a bit faster. The Chasers were all using Expelliarmus on each other by that point anyway, so it's not as though I was the first to bring his wand out. Madam Hooch, however, evidently felt that was inappropriate and came to take Professor Sinistra's place. Again, I don't know who stupefied her, but her crash to the ground was quite distracting.
I accidentally said Avis while I was flying near Potter. It was purely a coincidence, as of course I wasn't thinking about the fact that I was holding my wand at all. I can't imagine why he seemed so bothered by the birds, as they were, as I said, accidental, and besides, they dove right into the ground. Now that I think about it, that's rather strange. Since when are birds suicidal? Oh, well. At some point someone set the tail of Landgreen's broom on fire, and for the rest of the match he flew about with ashes flaking everywhere. What a poor captain. It got into everyone's eyes. I don't see why he didn't just take himself out of the match.
Haydt was quite clever in using the Full Body Bind on the Gryffindor Chasers. Since everyone was using their wands, the fact that Slytherin was being clever about it ought to count for something. Nonetheless, it was quite appalling that Herder stupefied her. In fact, I suspect he was the one who stupefied Hooch, too. He was being quite vicious. He put a Hurling Hex on Pritchard's broom, I know he did. He was right beside him, so don't try to deny it, Gryffindor. Bysmal says he put a Conjunctivitis Curse on her, too. Herder ought to receive enough detentions for all of us.
Bysmal did manage to pull off an excellent Hawkshead Attacking Formation with Clarence and Pritchard despite the Conjunctivitis Curse, which is all due to me, I don't mind saying. If I hadn't had them practising in the dark last week, she wouldn't have got used to doing that without being able to see.
After Herder stupefied Haydt, Gryffindor, of course, simply hovered in our scoring area and put the Quaffle in over and over. Naturally, we weren't deterred by this, and when Millicent inadvertently put an Impediment Jinx on Potter, the Gryffindor Keeper decided to take himself out of the game as well. He jumped onto Millicent's broomstick, and I'm not surprised that she reversed his knees in the confusion. It was self defence. She also broke her clavicle when they went crashing inevitably to the ground, and Weasley's lucky she wasn't killed.
I'm certain I don't need to mention this, but I do like to be informative. The match finally ended when I CAUGHT THE SNITCH. Potter was flying stupidly at the other end of the pitch, and it practically flew right into my hand. I imagine the Snitch always knows who the more deserving Seeker is. Not only did Slytherin win the match, as I knew we would, I caught the Snitch twice and Potter didn't even get it once.
So, of course, the professors have decided we ought to have a rematch. Who cares if people were playing 'dirty'? That's how Quidditch is played. Is no one familiar with the game? It's not a clean game, you imbeciles. Stop whinging. If Gryffindor had won, everyone would say a rematch was entirely unfair. This is exactly like my first year. We won the House Cup, so Dumbledore had to create imaginary reasons to give the Gryffindors precisely enough points at the last minute to ensure they beat us by a few meagre points. Oh, yes, let's give Longbottom some points for standing up to his friends. I've stood up to Millicent a thousand times, but it's not exactly the sort of thing one awards house points for. Unless, of course, you're awarding them to a Gryffindor. I did quite well at organising my Quidditch team, as everyone can see, so I ought to receive some house points for that.
There wouldn't be a rematch if not for the fact that Slytherin won, that much is obvious. They also waited over twelve hours to tell us, making certain the house had already celebrated. This is absolutely unfair. If they really thought the game was being played too dirtily, why didn't they stop it before I caught the Snitch? I'll tell you why: they were hoping Potter would catch it instead. If he had, then there wouldn't have been a word about anyone playing 'unfairly'.
I haven't even got to the best part. When I'd left the pitch, Granger popped out of nowhere and PUNCHED ME IN THE NOSE. What a disgusting little girl. I hope I got blood on her robes. I had to go to the infirmary along with Millicent, and MY NOSE WAS BROKEN. AGAIN. I've half a mind to make Granger pay for the emotional damage. This is an outrage. If Granger isn't punished, My Father will certainly want to have a word with the headmaster. It seems Thomas paid her to do it, actually, so I suppose Granger's well on her way to becoming a prostitute. Will she do anything you pay her to do? How cheap.
First of all, the person or persons who broke my cane in half ought to come forward immediately.
Secondly, I fail to see justice in the fact that Dumbledore assigned me a detention for next week because I accidentally broke Brown's arm, while Potter only lost ten house points for breaking my nose. I've lost fifteen house points on top of that, and received a lecture from Professor Snape about how 'embarrassing' the whole thing was to Slytherin. Why is this considered embarrassing while beating me bloody on the train is considered 'cool'? You'll notice that I'm a Pureblood and Brown is a half-blood. It's rather strange, isn't it? That Hogwarts frowns upon damage to everyone but Purebloods, that is. If a Pureblood is injured, the headmaster seems to think that's suitable. I would go punch Nott just to see if I'd receive an award, since he's a Pureblood as well, but he's dissecting a mouse, so I'd rather not. Perhaps I can punch Millicent instead.
Speaking of Millicent, she got rather shirty with me yesterday because she fell over my cane. It's not my fault she's unable to walk. In fact, everyone got shirty with me because of it. I had a vague inkling that all of Hogwarts was this clumsy, but this has certainly exceeded my expectations.
Thirdly, I shall be going home to Malfoy Manor for Walpurgis Night this evening. My Mother's birthday is tomorrow, so I'm going to spend the evening here and have breakfast with her in the morning before returning to Hogwarts for the last Quidditch match of the year. The match is at half noon, so I expect everyone will be there. Today I intend to make certain that Millicent and Gross eat balanced meals, and I also plan for them to go to sleep at half eight this evening so they'll be in top form tomorrow. I've also put Millicent in charge of a practice this afternoon, since I won't be there, so as soon as Potions ends I expect the entire team to be on the pitch. I will know if anyone decides not to go because they think I won't notice, so I certainly wouldn't recommend it.
Now I shall go eat my lunch and ensure that Millicent and Gross eat theirs. Being a Quidditch captain is so taxing sometimes.
Oh, yeah. Lastly, whoever broke my cane in half would do well to return the missing pieces to me so I can put it back together. Don't think that just because I'm no longer a prefect I can no longer get into your dormitories.