The Journal of Sara Snape (Not finished so check daily please)
written by Andromeda Malfoy
For those of you who have read my other book, The Tale of Sara Snape, this is Sara’s diary! Uh, I mean “journal”. She hates it when someone calls it her diary. Have fun reading from her perspective! (Don’t read if u don’t like love stories lol)
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
28
Reads
685
Chapter Three
Chapter 4
When I got onto the train, I fell when it started moving to be caught by a blond boy with grey eyes. “You better watch where you’re going next time, because I won’t be there to catch you.” He growled. I felt a twinge of hate immediately.
There it is. Nope. Not love at first sight after all.
“Thanks, but I don’t need anyone’s help. Especially yours.” I snapped back, an equal harsh tone. “Shove off, Malfoy.” Said George Weasley.
My boyfriend.
Bet that wasn’t included in my original story.
“Ah, the infamous Draco Lucius Malfoy. I’ve heard a lot about you.” I said sharply. “Oh, really?” His lip curled. “Yeah. ‘Training for the ballet, Potter?’ Yeah, how did that Quidditch game end up for ya, huh?” I smirked mockingly. He growled, then walked away. “Nice job, Snape.” George grinned. “Thank you, thank you, I try, really.” I laughed. We entered a compartment when I saw him. The black haired boy with green eyes and a scar on his forehead. “Holy Mother of God, are you Harry Potter?” I asked.
“Uhm, yeah.” He answered.
“Okay,” I shrugged simply before sitting down.
Nope. I don’t praise people.
There it is. Nope. Not love at first sight after all.
“Thanks, but I don’t need anyone’s help. Especially yours.” I snapped back, an equal harsh tone. “Shove off, Malfoy.” Said George Weasley.
My boyfriend.
Bet that wasn’t included in my original story.
“Ah, the infamous Draco Lucius Malfoy. I’ve heard a lot about you.” I said sharply. “Oh, really?” His lip curled. “Yeah. ‘Training for the ballet, Potter?’ Yeah, how did that Quidditch game end up for ya, huh?” I smirked mockingly. He growled, then walked away. “Nice job, Snape.” George grinned. “Thank you, thank you, I try, really.” I laughed. We entered a compartment when I saw him. The black haired boy with green eyes and a scar on his forehead. “Holy Mother of God, are you Harry Potter?” I asked.
“Uhm, yeah.” He answered.
“Okay,” I shrugged simply before sitting down.
Nope. I don’t praise people.
