On Christmas morning Severus Snape attacked me in my own home. This was the final straw, and a fitting end to this past year. I can only hope this new year, and indeed, new Millenium brings with it better luck. Especially as I'm unwilling to forgive and forget.

I'm not so childish as to run to the nearest adult and cry. So reporting the use of an Unforgivable on an ex-pupil will not be my course of action for revenge, however satisfying it may be to ruin Snape's career and his freedom. Still, that does not mean this isn't a posibility, just that it must be achieved by other means.

First business is to send an owl to Pansy. Her warning by patronus, whilst it did not quite work, that was more through my own failings than hers and it was still very valuable to me.

That done, I prepare to see in the New Year in true Slytherin style. Plotting revenge in the most devious way I can think.

After Snape left I managed to reach the bathroom before I was revisited by my breakfast. I rinse my mouth out and splash cold water over my face. I return to the living room to await my Father's arrival, my heart still pounding from being forced to relive the past year of my life in such vivid detail. Much of last year I wish to forget, not be reminded of once more.

I've been in St Mungo's doing nothing for too long and it's driving me mental. I don't care what the healer's say, I'm going home. It doesn't take long to get dressed but it leaves me leaning against the wall for nearly ten minutes before the pain and exhaustion subside enough to move again. I sign myself out against the advisement of everyone who intercepts me on my way to the Apparation point, and Disapparate, straight to my living room.

I've been lying here in St Mungo's for quite long enough and I'm getting fed up and need to get back to work. The time to think was certainly useful and I may have just about made sense of what Greyback meant by 'toyboy'. The only witch I've spoken with recently that could apply to is Narcissa, and the idea in that is...well, it just proves Greyback is as insane as Bellatrix.

Still, the thought that the werewolf has Narcissa on his mind is not a comforting one and if, as I don't doubt, he still 'runs with the old pack' he may just be allied with Bellatrix still. I call a nurse over to me, give her instructions to send for Draco to come as soon as possible, and wave her away before she can start fussing over me. I needed an excuse to see my old friend anyway, someone who won't treat me with pity because I got myself turned into a scratching post for a feral werewolf, and this will just about do it.

I pace my flat silently. I was surprised to recieve Draco's owl, also a little annoyed at his tone. A request to meet would have been intriguing. Instead I felt like I was being given an order, to be at my flat at a certain time to meet with him. I never took his orders at school but I have to admit my curiosity rather got the better of me. What in Merlin's name does he want?

The Midnight Apothecary is unusually busy tonight. It makes it easier to slip about unnoticed, but I've never liked crowds much apart from that purpose. One of my contacts announced that a shipment had been tracked by Aurors. Three people arrested, stock confiscated and being analysed in case it can lead back to the person trading it.

For the second time in twenty four hours I'm woken with a start. This time it isn't by the noise of Apparation but by a stabbing pain in my left arm. Swearing, I lash out with my right arm until I connect solidly with something, someone, knocking them backwards. Once they've moved I have space to stagger out of bed, seizing my wand getting enough distance between myself and my attacker to get my head together before they strike again.

I open my eyes as soon as I hear the unmistakable sound of Apparation. It’s pitch black, many a time I’ve woken up like this to similar noises, none of them with pleasant results. This time however my arms and legs aren’t bound, and I’m not in pain, so I throw off the blankets and reach for my wand. Good it’s still there.

It didn't take long for news of the Halloween attack at Draco's club to circulate. Word like that gets around fast, and word is he was injured saving a mudblood no less. A few weeks ago I wouldn't have even considered this as possible truth, but then a few months ago the idea that any club owned by Draco Malfoy would welcome mudbloods would have been equally laughable. I suppose there's only one way to find out the truth.

Pansy told me yesterday she'd received word that my broom was ready. So as my plans for today were light I decided it would be a good time to pick it up. I make my way to Travetti's Specialties, pausing briefly outside the jewelery half to take in the newly coloured lettering. Witches, I think with a sigh, as I push open the door to the broom half.