Oct. 1991

Dearest diary,

The Hogwarts debut of one Dahlia Clawthorne was a spectacular flop. Today was supposed to be my day. Cute boys were supposed to flock to my pretty face and American accent. Girls were supposed to fall over in envy. But that boy, that Harry Potter, has ruined it all. So what if he survived a killing curse. He's scrawny and weird and a Gryffindor.

My mother never understood the house rivalries, but Dad and I know how important they are. He still tells everyone he's a Ravenclaw with pride, and now I can brag about my place in Slytherin. The common room seems kind of dark and weird, but my classmates are nice. Shoe has already claimed a spot on the common room couches for himself. I should get one of the upperclassmen to teach me to spell away the orange fur from the cushions. So not the vibe.

Slytherin is by far the best house. The hat said something about cunning I guess, but I don't really know what that means. All I know is we do the laughing, not the being laughed at. And our house leader is the best. Professor Snape hates Harry Potter almost as much as I do. On the very first day he must've taken half a billion points from those stupid Gryffindors. And Potions is fun. I love mixing together the rare ingredients and making something magical. It reminds me of the muggle chemistry classes at my old elementary school. And as Professor Snape said, there's no silly wand waving.