Dear Journal, (I'm not writing 'dear diary', only mudbloods write 'dear diary'),
Something strange happened today. We were in Defence Against the Dark Arts, the most pointless subject ever (and not because I'm failing it), when Longbottom walks past and lightly brushes his hand against mine. ON PURPOSE. And that's not the worst of it. You know in first year, when I wrote that I thought I liked Longbottom like that? Well, when our hands touched, my stomach did that really weird flutter. And be smirked at me. Longbottom. Smirked. At me. Like a sly, 'I know what I just did, and you're not going to deny you felt a spark' sort of look. Who knew that the boy who himself claimed was practically a Squib could pull off such a Slytherin move! But now I'm confused. I thought I'd got over him - now, I'm not so sure. Bit awkward, really. Besides, I've got a reputation to keep up - I can't look as if I'm going soft, can I? Everyone, everyone would tease me if I admitted it. I hate how confused this is making me. Honestly, I thought I had everything in my life sorted out. Turns out I haven't.
—Draco
A/N: Here's chapter one - hope you enjoyed! Please review! Gx
