20th August 1999
Life seemed so simple before, I had not experienced anything with such complexity. Good was good, evil was evil, but now I’m not so sure. I’m confused beyond the usual “What is the point?” in the end I know what we face if this goes the wrong way, I’ve seen it in you. This will never reach you; I know that for I will never send it, the danger of discovery is too great. It’s a secret between me and these four walls that surround me. You made your choice and I cannot change that, but I can hope that it’s not you behind these men, not you voicing the weapon that torments them and me in my own way. Every man, woman and child that comes through these doors is saved from a world that you seem to wish to create. Why, why do you bow and cower so? You are a man of strength, of honour. At least I thought you were. My mind is a jumble of thoughts that I must commit to paper. Ink and quill seem my only release from this torment that you have put me in. I wish I too could sink into the slumber we press upon our patients, at least then I would be free. Free from you, the guilt, the memories, the pain. Free from the world!

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20th August 1999
I am unsure as to the reason I feel I must write this, it goes beyond all I have been taught. I lie in bed at night and I dream we dance together at a ball, any ball, there are no specifics. It is a dream of hope, and one that will not happen. I do not understand my need to say this, for you will never receive this; I cannot send it. I left you badly, yet I cannot truly leave you for you are engraved in my heart for eternity. This tale is one of guilt, gut-wrenching guilt that causes the body to recoil and my mind to try and absent itself from what it sees. I am not a killer; I never was nor shall I ever shall be. All I can affect on those we fight is a simple curse I learned from a book in my father’s study. I cannot speak its name, not to you, but I promise you the men women and children who receive it face nothing worse than memories, though even those can cause pain. I wish to sink into a slumber where my arms can be locked around you without any fear of retribution

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3rd October 1999
Again I write. Why must I feel the need to do this? You are gone, you don’t think of me. I am a “blood traitor” in your eyes. Yet my view of you is not as clear cut. Questions revolve around my head as I lie in bed. How do you deal with what you do? How can you live with yourself? How could you leave me?

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3rd October 1999
You asked me once how I deal with what I do? I never answered, I couldn’t. It was too hard. I have my answer now, I have to in order to survive. You are innocent of my crimes Ginny, yet you know what He does, how he acts He cannot be escaped. If I reacted against any of this, as you so desperately wished for me to do, my mother would suffer. It is for her that I do this. For her that am forced to live with what I’ve done each day. For her that I left you.

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9th September 2000
So long ago, over a year, yet still the memories plague me. Not only memories, but doubts. What we had, was it real? What did we have? Did you love me? I ache to hear your voice, yet know I cannot. You will have moved on to another by now, possibly even had to. I know you Draco, this is not you. You fight a foe within yourself. I only hope if you have found someone that she is able to relieve your nightmares as I did.

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9th September 2000
Why will these memories not abate? I try to drown you from my mind with drink but that only proves to further the pain and guilt. I loved you but forced you away. Nightmares plague my sleep, I long to hear your voice soothing them away with embraces and kisses. It is so long since I’ve felt that love.

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10th February 2001
I saw you today, except when you turned around to face your foe it was not you, but who you will become. I reasoned you would not have the courage to remove your mask, through fear of who might see you as you fell. This man, with the blondest hair I ever saw believed he was invincible as he stood before my brother. “blood traitor” spewed from his mouth as his wand came up. The smirk on his face, one that I know so well, remained even in death.

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11th February 2001
My father is dead. I know not whether to rejoice or to wallow in self pity. I did not love him, he made me who I am. Yet, he made me who I am. Once again confusion is the major force in my life. I shall hide away under canvas until I am called by Him. I fear Him, but cannot show it. Bravery is a must in this world. We cannot be rid of the evil that haunts us. I do not doubt that it is evil, but in my world this evil must be obeyed. There is no escape.

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23rd November 2002
They say time heals all wounds, but four years later and I still can’t get that arrogant smirk out of my head. The way you looked at me as you rolled up your sleeve to proudly display the vulgar tattoo that had been engraved in your arm; the look on your face as you pushed me to the ground and sauntered by without a second glance; the way your little whore hung off you arm like you were Merlin himself. I contrast all this with the way you looked at me as I woke up in the morning, the sunlight glinting off your white blond hair. Those eyes following me as I made my way down the corridors towards lessons. The look of ecstasy on your face as we made love under the stars and afterwards the fascination as we watched the night sky together. Pain is even harder to deal with when you’re alone in the world.

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23rd November 2002
I’ve hurt you Ginny, and I never wanted that to happen. The memories ache in my heart and my mind, both good and bad. I remember that final day so well. I relive it in my sleep: The look of horror on your face as I showed you what I had been forced to do is intensified by my guilt; the hurt as I cruelly pushed you aside, the only way I could physically get away without hurting you; Pansy drooling on my arm as I pulled her away from doing further damage. It is this that haunts me my darling Ginny: All of it. Guilt is harder to manage when no one is there to understand it.

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29th March 2005
What will you do when this is all over? I cannot protect you, for you know in your heart you are fighting a losing battle. Harry will defeat your lord and all will be restored – except my faith in the world. I dreamt of a house with a garden full of children, but these children are now faceless, merely spirits of a dream that once was. I have no hopes of marriage, no job prospects, even my family have abandoned me. All of this is down to you, you and your stupid ideas. Stupid, stupid ideas Draco.

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30th March 2005
What will you do when this is all over? I cannot protect you, for you know in your heart you are fighting a losing battle. None of us can win, but I wish I could save you from the life that will inevitably follow. You are cut off from me and that is entirely my fault. If I had chosen your way would life have been different, would it have been better? I know not. The house you dreamed of will stand empty, the children who run about mother and fatherless, spirit children. Why do you torment me so with your dreams of life and happiness. Malfoys cannot be happy.

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5th August 2006
Pristine white, apt for a Malfoy, matches your hair. “Draco Lucius Malfoy, beloved son”. Silence hung all around as I laid my seven white roses and walked away.

Fin.