Disclaimer: Nothing in this here story belongs to me.

Warning: Harry/Draco slash

Hello again! I'm Back! Did you miss me? Yeah, I thought not. Anyway, here's another fanfic I hope you enjoy!

Lobe, Manaka-San

I Need a Plan:

I'm beautiful, damn it! Strike that, I'm the embodiment of the word 'sexy'! My hair is the perfect shade of blonde and practically shines on its own! There is nothing more perfect or flawless than my skin, which, in the right light, will glow an iridescent pearl! Add my arctic - oh I love that word - eyes, and I'm drop dead gorgeous! I have bloody friggin' piano fingers so perfect, I could easily get away with that lime green finger nail polish Pansy bought me for Christmas - er, not that I'd wear the nail polish, I could just pull it off if I wanted. Anyway, moving on with my rant…Girls would friggin' kill to have my waist! To top that off, no one has legs like mine, all long and gorgeous and everything! Add the fact that I'm tall and slender into the potion, and I have boys falling at my feet. Except for him, damn it!

I mean, it's not like he's the kind of person who's rich and famous and can have anyone he wants - oh wait, yes he is! That bastard, who does he think he is? Just because he's all that and a bag of Every Flavor Beans does not give him license to do that to me, damn it!

"Pansy!" I hear my voice echo down the stairs and into the common room. A loud thud - might have been her Potions book - and angry footsteps rang back up the stairs and into my dorm room.

"I was in the middle of my Transfigurations paper," she bellowed from the doorway. So I was wrong about which book it was, big whoop. "It's due Monday, I hope you know!"

"Is there something wrong with me? Something, I don't know, repulsive?" I asked, never taking my eyes from my full-length mirror.

"Mentally or physically?" Pansy asked, crossing the room to sit on my bed.

"You, Pansy Parkinson, are a bitch."

She crossed her legs and began inspecting her fingernails, which were painted an interesting shade of neon purple. "I try."

"I'm sure you do. Now answer the question," I retorted.

"Draco," she sighed. "There's nothing wrong with you...physically. You're sex on a stick. Now, tell me who rejected you this time to make you ask such a stupid question."

"'This time'?" I asked, finally turning from the mirror. "Is there a time when I've been rejected that I am unaware of? Like you said, I'm sex on a stick, no one rejects me."

"Except for this mystery boy," she added, earning herself a Malfoy death-glare, something I had perfected at the tender age of six. She ignored it and continued. "Speaking of which, are you going to tell me who he is?"

"No. That's my dirty little secret. And he technically didn't reject me. It was more of a 'Shut the hell up' glare as he shoved past me." Turning my back to her again, I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. "I have to make him notice me...Maybe if I wear red tomorrow. Hmmm...But it makes me look all blotchy, and that's rather unappealing."

"Wait, red?" Pansy asked, peering at me through black fringe. "Does that mean he's in Gryffindor?"

I tensed and drew my breath. Damn my big mouth. After all, Pansy's not that stupid - and she has that nifty little thing called woman's intuition - and there are only so many half-way decent looking blokes in the aforementioned - HA! I can use big words! - house, save one down right sexy one. It won't take her long to add two and two to get-

"EW! Weasley?" Five? I felt my face drop in horror as I turned to face her again. She began to howl with laughter. "Oh, Merlin! I was joking!"

"Pansy, you moral less wench!" I cried, grabbing on of my green pillows at hitting her over the head with it. "Don't even joke about the Weasel like that! I almost threw up!"

"Okay. Okay," she gasped, wiping a tear from one heavily make-upped eye. She rode out her giggle fit before continuing. "But, really. I can't believe you fancy Potter."

Okay, Pansy could still do basic mathematics. That's a relief. "Well, start believing it and help me with my clothes for tomorrow. And possibly a plan to make him notice me."

"If I must," she sighed. She never could hide what she was really feeling, and I could tell that she was rather excited about helping me put together an outfit.

"Yes, you must," I said, returning to my incessant gazing at the mirror. I heard Pansy jump from my bed and start digging through my wardrobe.

TBC.