By CloudKat
Don't we all hate to think about him? He's the bloody famous one, I know, with his heroic efforts and his love of saving people. I know I hate to think about him. It seems to be the only thing I have ever done, though, ever since he refused to take my hand that fateful day in the Entrance Hall.
Merlin, Potter and his Gryffindor accomplices. It's bloody annoying, and I hate them so much.
Hate them, hate them, hate them!
I hated the ferret jokes and the twisted lies about my father and the jabs at my House. They don't ever stop, though, even after I myself did. Weasel starts all the fights and the scuffles now, him and his tattered clothes and his long nose and Gryffindor pride. He insults me like the heathen he is, and I feel it appropriate to curse his arse to the next rising of You-Know-Who, which, after Golden Hero Boy went and killed the bugger, seems to not be so soon.
Anyways, I curse him, he shouts and tries to hex me (fat chance, the mediocre prick) and Granger goes and tells and Hero Boy glares and challenges me. I scoff at him as the Weasel turns that ugly reddish-purple color (has anybody ever told him it clashes horribly with his hair?)
Potter scowls—it's more of a pout, really. Honestly, he can't even scowl properly… how on Earth can he really be the savior of the Wizarding World? It is rather amusing to watch him try, though—and raises his wand… The conflict is inevitable, isn't it? I sigh—Blaise always does call me a drama queen—and raise mine as well, then we duel, get caught, get detention, and my weekend is shot by none other than the Hero!
Am I rambling?
I think about Potter so much now, I'm noticing things that straight young men, such as I, should never, ever notice. I am not gay! I'm referred to as a metro sexual, damnit, and I'm proud of it! Sure, I'm finicky, as well as horribly neat, but surely I'm not gay! I mean, just because I can give tips straight from that ridiculous Muggle show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy—I don't watch it, by the way, there isn't any way I can because I don't have a nicked tellyvizion-thing, thank you very much—doesn't mean I'm some bloody pouf! Surely!
Potter plaguing is my mind. Memories of our experiences together resurface, and I've found that I've become uncomfortably aware of the exact shade of his eyes with every passing emotion. Emerald, sage… The list can continue. I've noticed that he is tanned under the usual drab sleeves of his school uniform, that his glasses aren't the proper prescription because he squints to see things that are far away sometimes. He handles his fork with his right hand, but sometimes holds his goblet with his left, usually on Wednesdays. He scratches his cheek when he's reading in Potions…
Don't look at me like that! I am most certainly not gay!
…
Okay, I'll admit to slightly bisexual, because the other day I was checking out some male Ravenclaw's "assets", but THAT'S IT!
Slightly bisexual, yes, indeed.
I can admit that I find Potter attractive as well, because I am slightly bisexual. My slight bisexuality has also fueled me to say that I cannot stop thinking about Potter because I find him attractive.
God, that prat is driving me insane, and it's all my fault! How is that even possible? I can't lust for Potter, that's ludicrous! Absolute lunacy!
… er, okay, I am lusting for Potter, but I don't have a crush on him. That would mean I actually like his personality. And that's—ick.
I don't like the way he's so heroic, even after he's fulfilled the purpose everyone had shoved into his hands. His supple hands, with its enticing fingers… ack! Stop that!
I don't like how he fails in Potions class, because I don't think it's cute. I don't like how he turns kind of red when girls hug him—damn them, and when he smiles with his friends.
I don't!
Gosh, you people are so annoying!
…
Oh my Merlin, I'm gay…
--Nope! NOPE! Slightly bisexual! SLIGHTLY BISEXUAL!
Stop looking at me like that! No, I am not panicking! I'm not hyperventilating, and I'm not becoming a nervous wreck, you scary gits! I have no idea what you're talking about! No! I don't!
What, you're saying maybe I'm in love with Potter? Eurgh, you people are disgusting! That's—NO! Ew ew ew ew ew ew—
Nah…
No…
That isn't possible…?
Is it?
IS IT?
Oh, dear…
Draco Malfoy, in all his blonde Slytherin glory, paraded out of the library, his pale skin a sickly green color. In his hands he clutched his diary—ahem—journal that, unfortunately, usually whispered back. It sniggered quietly in his head, triumphant crowing long since over.
"Malfoy?" Harry Potter passed by, an honest concerned look gracing his features and his Quidditch Through The Ages book cradled against his chest. "Malfoy? You don't look too good. Do you want me to take you to the Hospital Wing?"
Draco Malfoy squeaked and ran.
Finite Incantatem!
Hahahaha… that was amusing to write. It's pure humor, OOC-ness, blatant Americanisms, and Draco in horrible, horrible denial… yay for random blurbs of nothing! And, about the Entrance Hall thing, it was in there, wasn't it? Or is that just the movie? My other sister has the books so I can't check... Damn.
Ami's on vacation, boo-hoo. He'll be back.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Greatness that is Harry Potter, all credit goes to JKR. I'm just having a bit of fun torturing one of her characters (as if she doesn't do it enough already.) I also don't own Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, and I was referring to the one here in the US—there is one in England as well, am I correct? Or is that QAF? Oh, I'm confused and too lazy to look it up or ask my sister 'cause she's at her first day of college.
Heh, usual disclaimers apply!
Please review; feedback is welcome, even if you think it is completely stupid (because I sure do)!
Does anybody get the title gag? It's clichéd, I know, but whatever! I found it fit the ficlet. 'Til next time!