Draco Malfoy's Famous Last Words

Wealth gets you things. I know, that's the most obvious statement ever. But really, it does. The special privileges you can demand are simply fabulous. I'm living proof of that.

You see, most prisoners are kept in their filthy little six by six cell with a rug to sleep on, bucket to shit in, and rusty plate to eat on. My cell is nine by nine. I have a cot, a functioning toilet, and a shiny, metal plate. I even enjoy the luxury of a desk with plenty of parchment, ink, quills, and books to read. Now mind you, I can't send any letters or anything. But I have a candle to write by and can keep a rather neat diary. Sure, it's mostly depressing thoughts, other than the few happy memories I've been able to resurrect. Nonetheless, my cell is like a freaking five star hotel compared to the normal filth of this place.

Money has it's perks. So does the name Malfoy. No, I'm not a Malfoy, not yet. But the gigantic, heart shaped diamond on my finger is proof that I will be one day. My wonderful (future) father-in-law pulled a few strings to get me this rather comfortable cell.

I've had plenty of time to contemplate my life, existence, and other trivial problems while I'm locked up here. I'll have even more time later, as I'm locked up here for life. (Until the Dark Lord comes through for me, that is.) I had my trial, yeah that was a waste of time. I walked in there, and no one came to my defense.

Thanks a lot, Harry. Way to keep your promises.

I was found guilty. Lovely, right?

Other than that one hour of being in court, I've had limited contact with the outside world. Lucius did send me an owl once. It was short and sweet, but told me that Draco was safe and the Dark Lord was working feverishly to get me and my fellow Death Eaters out. He said that they have established a fair amount of control in the Ministry and over the Dementors.

He said that it is "only a matter of time now".

That was two months ago, I think. There's no real way to tell.

All I see every day is dimly lit stone walls and the occasionally glimpse of the stone, black hallways. The only way to judge the happenings of the outside world is by the movements of the dementors. I, as every prisoner of Azkaban does, have a slot at the bottom of my door for food deliveries and a very small slit at the top. If I stand on the chair for my desk, I can see out.

The dementors are moving faster than ever now, and there's less of them than before. They glide up and down the halls rapidly, hardly stopping to check on us. They don't even bother to attempt making us extra depressed and hopeless. They're anxious. I just know it.

Every day the Dark Lord gets a stronger grasp on their loyalty.

Every day I, Evelyn Zabini, am closer to freedom.

---

Dear Journal,

I don't even know why I'm writing in this bloody thing. Mum thought it would be nice for me to organize my thoughts. Sure, that's exactly what I need to do, more thinking. But whatever, I'll go along with it if it makes her happy. Fine. I don't even care anymore.

So I'm in Japan, in hiding.

Do you see how stupid this is? Any Ministry official could find this, get all my secrets, and lock me up for life. Great.

But anyway, I'm in Japan now. I'm sitting at this crappy little sushi shop, listening to some funky techno music that's playing. I'm literally having to grip my chair with my free hand so I don't kill whoever chose this to play. It's so bloody annoying.

So, Mum want's me to organize my thoughts. Well that's simple enough.

Here's a list of all the things that consume my mind daily:

1. How are Evelyn and my son?
2. Where are they?
3. Are they safe?
4. Why the Hell won't anyone give me any information about Evelyn?
5. Is he born yet? He should be...
6. What is everyone else up to?
7. I want to go back to England.
8. Evelyn. Just Evelyn.

Yeah, not that complex, really. The only way to take my mind off of Evie is by thinking about all the plans the Dark Lord has. All the plans he's yet to complete. He says when we, and I use the term 'we' loosely, have control over the Ministry and it's safe, he'll call for me.

That was two months ago. I think. I can't read Japanese calendars, nor do I try to.

Up to this very day, my Dark Mark has stayed the faint red that permanently stains my skin.

That's all I need to know. The second it turns black, I'm getting the hell out of this place.

There are a few Dark Wizards in Japan. Every now and then I sit down for tea or sushi with one of them to catch up on things. It's all the same old stuff. Well it was, until yesterday.

Atrius, one of my more frequent contacts, told me that the Dark Lord has dementors working overtime for him. He said that they're hardly patrolling Azkaban and that the Dark Lord has nearly taken over the entire Ministry. He also said that dear, old Severus was the new Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Yeah, that's great for the youth of the wizarding world.

But despite my ill feelings toward the Dark Side, I know it's the side I'm stuck on; the side I have to trust. I have to trust them, to believe that Evelyn and my son are okay. I have to hold out hope that I'll see them soon.

But they're not okay. I just know it.

Every day the Dark Lord gets closer to achieving his goals.

Every day I, Draco Malfoy, am closer to seeing Evelyn again.

Until I'm Desperately Bored Yet Again...
Sincerely, Draco