His father had that diary in his possession for as long as Draco could remember. Its black leather cover slid between other books on the shelves of his father's office. He had never gone near it, feeling a strange sense of dread whenever he approached. An image flickered across his mind's eye, of another trinket that seemed to fill him with a strange ethereal feeling. A tiara he had found in the room of requirement, scooped up on a whim and thrown on Theo’s table of things.