In my "dorm", September 3, 2002
You can't imagine the surprise I felt upon unpacking this little book from my trunk when I arrived my private bedroom. It was wrapped in a black silk cloth which I didn't—still don't—recognize at all.
This book itself is nothing extraordinary to look at. The cover is black dragon skin with green diamond-shaped designs. The binding is what appears to be simple silver thread—but upon closer inspection it is none other than unicorn hair. So while it doesn't appear special or expensive, it actually really is.
Which would've come in handy had I not become prefect again this year and was stuck in that dorm with all those other bastards. No one would have believed this belongs to Draco Theodore Malfoy, Slytherin Prince, since it does not appear expensive enough to be touched by my hands. Of course, I am a prefect again, so I have my own rooms. I've already placed spells on them, along with a key only I have that I keep around my neck (call it girlish and I swear I will hex you to Tartarus and back).
I know for a fact this little book does not come from my father. No. Lucius. He stopped being a father in my eyes a long time ago. Now he is no more a father to me as a mongoose is to a snake. A cat to a bird. A tiger to a panda. You get the picture, not that I know who you are. Nor do I particularly care. After this I suspect I won't pick it up again.
As I was saying, this journal did not come from Lucius. Even if he acted like my father, he doesn't give a crap what I think. In fact, some days I would swear on all things holy that he thinks me incapable of a single intelligent thought. How wrong he is. I have plenty of thoughts, like all the plans I have for killing him in the future, even if it they are against the Dark Lord's wishes. That old fraud with the red eyes, mutilated body, and sadistic plans makes me sick. I only go along with what he says because I have been bred and raised to despise mudbloods. Which I do. All of them are stupid things. 'Specially that girl Granger.
Alright, so she's probably the smartest person in this bloody school—that's all the more reason to hate her. After all, Lucius does, and if that isn't bad enough, he gets angry every time I report her grades are still better than mine and...well...he beats me. No one knows that, not even my mother, who, I admit, is as much a ditzy blonde as she possibly could be. I know she's in denial, for she always manages to not see my bruises and cuts. Not that I particularly care. I, Draco Malfoy, do not care about any thing or any one. I never will.
Back to before I interrupted myself; I called the Dark Lord an old fraud. He is. He's gone around all these years trying to rid the world of mudbloods—a very good cause, mind you—but he's a mudblood himself! I mean, honestly. It's like another Holocaust or something. The Dark Lord is the Hitler of the wizarding world. Of course, some of the wizards followed Hitler back during World War II, but there are some Jewish wizards, quite obviously, there are wizards everywhere.
Ok, I have a journal, and here I am talking about history. I'm wasting ink and time to complain about the Dark Lord who I've been raised to follow since I learned to talk. That is rather sad isn't it? I could be writing anything in here, and I'm complaining about the Dark Lord, and rambling on and on about history. It's a good thing I plan to stop writing in this, otherwise someone would report this back to my father. He'd hate the thought of my writing my true thoughts down where anyone could read them.
Wait a minute.
My father would hate my keeping a journal. That's all the reasons I need to keep this little book. Besides, it's rather appealing to write every thought I have down. In a few years, when I'm rich and have all the time I want, I can look back in this little book and just laugh uncontrollably. Only in the confines of my most private study, of course.
Since I don't really know who will be reading this, or when, if anyone ever does, maybe I should tell a little about myself.
Draco's Self List
1. I can't stand mudbloods
2. I can't stand Potter, Weasel, and Granger (aka Mudblood)—the bloody Dream Team
3. I hate how they're such great friends when I don't have a single true friend who is loyal to me and wouldn't sell me out for their own personal gain.
4. I am not jealous of Potty.
5. I will write a "Reasons I hate Potty" list in a moment.
6. I have a very strong fear of cats. I do. Lucius once transfigured my mother's new kitten into a bloodthirsty, starving tiger which he let chase me around for six hours non-stop.
7. I have Aichmophobia—the fear of pointy objects. Again, Lucius' fault.
Alright, so that's it, other than my age. I'm sixteen, and currently single, although I doubt that will be for long with my devilishly good looks, Malfoy charm, and great talent in bed. I am, without a doubt, the stud of Hogwarts.
Now for that Potty list:
Reasons I hate Potty
1. He's a bloody Gryffindor
2. He thinks he's everyone's hero
3. He's got a humongous head full of pride
4. He's the Boy Who Sodding Lived
5. Everyone worships the ground he walks on
6. He's always got to help those in need
7. He's better then me at Quidditch
8. He rejected me and my offer of friendship for Weasley who has a huge family and isn't so bloody alone
9. He's loved by the Weasley family like another son (which they couldn't afford to keep) meaning he's got no family, but he knows love, when I have family, but am not loved in mine
10. He's got these amazing emerald/forest/new-leaves-in-spring green eyes
11. He's got this perfectly built body that just screams "I work out! Don't you want to get me in bed with you?"
12. He hides his body under way-too-big clothes
13. He's so innocently cute it makes you go crazy with the urge to shag him
14. He's as straight as a board
15. He's got this hair that looks so silky you just have to reach out and run your fingers through it
16. He gives me the best wet dreams and hard-ons
17. He doesn't know of my huge crush on him
18. His height makes you question his size
19. His entire body wants you to question your own sanity for why you're not with him
20. He'll never know I don't hate him
There. I hate him because he's just so damn sexy. I'm as gay as I can get, and I'm damn proud of it, too. The entire school knows about it, since I didn't keep my relationship with Zambini a secret. Lucius was just thrilled to learn his only son was never going to produce an heir willingly, seeing as the male population cannot bear children. I've got scars from that little incident, actually.
Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have been rude to him (Potter). If I hadn't perhaps he wouldn't be so surprised if I were to tell him I've had a huge crush on him since fourth year when he got out of the lake, his clothes clinging to his wiry, yet muscular, frame. Maybe I can bribe one of his housemates into telling me his sexual preference. Or...maybe I could trick him into telling me. Not there's a pleasing thought.
This year I will tell him how I feel, even if it kills me. Which it probably will once Lucius finds out.
Oh bugger, I'm late to Charms. I'll write more in this later...
Later, In History of Magic
Charms was boring; it's with the Hufflepuffs. Now I'm sitting here, listening to a dead professor drone on and on about things I really couldn't care less about. At least Potter's in this class, I can distract myself by staring at him. I swear he got even sexier over the summer; the sun did wonders for his skin tone. The first thing I'm going to do on the Hogsmeade trip, is buy him form-fitting clothes and send them to him anonymously, saying to burn his old ones. Yes, that will be interesting. Get him a few tight T-shirts, jeans that hug the butt. Oh yes...very nice...
I hate being seated next to Zambini. He's always studying me. It's really rather annoying since we broke up. Oh well, as long as I tell Potter how I feel, I can go back to being cold, indifferent, and unloving. Wait—I do not love Harry sodding Potter!! I did not mean that. It's just an...adjective! Yes, that's it!
Right, back to calm, collected, Malfoy.
Zambini just asked my why I was staring at Potter—it can't possibly be that obvious. I just simply shrugged and told him I was trying to figure out what hex to use on him. He had the nerve to tell me not to mess up Potter's—and I quote—"rugged good looks"!!! HARRY POTTER IS MINE! Mine I tell you! Mine! I will tell him how I feel by tomorrow night. That is my new goal now. To tell Potter about my crush by tomorrow night. If he doesn't accept it, damn. If he does...bloody hell, look out! Draco Malfoy's going to shag the Boy Who Lived!!! Yes, the Slytherin Prince is going to get some from the Gryffindor Seeker who happens to have the most perfect body I have ever seen. I can't wait to see if he's as muscular as it's always appeared he would be. I'm a seeker for Slytherin, and I'm muscular, too. You have to be to weave and shoot through the air with speed as well as agility. Oh, Potter's got both in large amounts. I wonder if his agility travels over to his abilities in bed...hmm...Potter with handcuffs. Now there's a kinky thought. I should try that if he accepts it...oh yes I should! Handcuff Potter to my rather large bed, and shag him nine ways to Sunday—when we shall repent for five minutes, and do it again.
Oh perfect. I have a hard-on and no good excuse to go take a nice, long, freezing shower. I've this was Potions, I could just threaten Snape into letting me go...but no...this is History of Magic, the most boring class ever.
Still later, Back in my rooms
Sorry about that, I was...interrupted if you will. Here, this is what happen...
-
Draco sat writing furiously in a small black, dragon-skin covered book. He didn't notice at first as Blaise rested his hand on his leg gently. Taking that as a good sign, Blaise started to gently trail up Draco's inner thigh towards what he soon noticed as a large erection. He smirked, thinking it was his own doing.
Draco tensed, but couldn't hold back as a low moan escaped him. He dropped his quill and closed his eyes, before realizing what was happening. Instantly his eyes snapped open, and he had Blaise on his back, down on the floor.
"I've told you once, if not many times, to leave me alone!" he growled furiously.
Blaise just smirked up at his ex and shrugged. "But you know you loved it...you're body showed it."
Too angry to care that the entire room was watching, let alone listening, Draco raised his hand and punched Blaise in the nose. He heard a satisfying crunch, at the same time as Blaise screamed in pain. Pity, he thought, to have to mess up such angelic features. His opponent gave him a savage punch that would've put any lesser guy out of conciousness. That didn't stop him from getting several more good blows on Blaise before his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, gently hauled him off the whimpering, bloody mass on the ground.
Draco just shot glares at everyone in the room, before his eyes landed on Harry. The Boy Who Lived was watching him, with what almost appeared to be concern hidden in the depths of the two emerald pools. Draco stared a moment, before hardening his gaze again, which he knew had softened, before he stormed out of the classroom, ignoring the whispers of his fellow classmates behind him.
Walking towards the nearest restroom, his robes flowing behind him, he shook his head. He really shouldn't have let Blaise provoke him, even if it was just an honest misunderstanding. He knew that his erection hadn't come from the other Slytherin at all. Suddenly two pools of emerald full of concern reappeared unbidden in his mind. He sighed, realizing he was in the restroom, and went to look on the mirrors above the sinks.
What he saw made him gasp. The single punch the Zambini boy had hit him with had left his cheek turning bluish black, his lip bleeding, and the lower part of his eye turning an ugly maroonish purple. No wonder Potter had looked at him with concern; his beautiful face was now a mixture of very clashing colours. He frowned, realizing that Potter, his arch nemesis, had looked at him with concern. He smirked a little.
Perhaps he's not as straight as a board as I thought...or perhaps he doesn't hate me as much as he pretends to, he thought, his day suddenly loads better.
He heard voices and quickly ducked into an empty stall, crouching upon the toilet bowl in order to eavesdrop without being found out if the people glanced under the bottom of the stall.
"Bloody hell, Harry! What was with that look you shot Malfoy?"
His eyes widened. Potter and Weasel were in there, talking about him of all people.
"Honestly, Ron. I have no idea what in the world you're talking about!" replied a voice in frustration.
Sexual frustration? He sure hoped so.
"You were looking at him, basically asking him if he was alright!"
"You have to admit, that bruise was rather ugly..."
"So what?! It's not like he doesn't deserve it, the bloody wanker."
He heard a sigh.
"Well, that may be, but..."
"But what?"
"But it messed up his gorgeous face..."
The statement was said in a whisper so soft, Draco wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been listening to intently. Instantly he smirked. Potter thought he had a gorgeous face.
"Ugh, Harry! Please tell me you're joking!"
"No, I'm not. Even a straight guy like you has to admit that Malfoy's simply beautiful."
"You're straight too! Harry this is the most awful thing I've heard come out of your mouth yet!"
"I'm not straight...well not entirely..."
"You're bi? Does anyone else know?"
"No, and I wish it to stay that way. Just what I need, an article in the Daily Prophet. The press would have a field day. "Harry Potter, Boy Gone Bi" "Boy Who Lived is Bi" "Defeater of You-Know-Who Declares His Preference for the Both Sexes" I hate the press...I hate publicity...I hate being a celebrity."
Draco stared at the stall door. The hatred of Potter's startled him, surely, but he had never imagined that the boy with the famous scar on his head would hate being so popular. Face it. You would too. Damn those annoyingly right voices!
"Alright, so you swing on both sides of the fence...please tell me you do not have a crush on Malfoy of all people!" said a voice in complete disgust.
"Maybe..."
"HARRY!"
"What?! He's just so damn sexy it's hard not to!"
"ARGH!"
He listened as Potter ran out of the restroom, quickly followed by another pair of footsteps that had to belong to the Weasel. He slowly got out of his position on top of the toilet, and slowly unlocked and opened the door. He stepped up to the mirrors and stared at the reflection staring back at him.
His silver-grey eyes were open wide, his mouth was hanging open slightly, and he looked paler than usual. He certainly hadn't expected his crush to feel the same, seeing as they had been enemies since the first year. He just shook his head in disbelief and exited the restroom, heading for the Great Hall for supper.
-
...so that's how I found out that Potter has a crush on me. Not only that, but he thinks I'm sexy. I do believe I'm rather glad I skimmed lunch today, because I was so starving at supper that I didn't even think about Potter until I was stuffed full of food. I'll have to go fly it off on the pitch, seeing as I have to keep my slim, sexy figure.
Merlin, I'm practically giddy. I do need help!
I, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince and Ice Prince as well, hearby declare that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Gryffindor Hero, and the Defeater of You-Know-Who, makes me giddy.
Now, off to work myself into exhaustion so that the wet dreams can come even faster than usual.
Until later.
--
A/N: I would like to thank everyone who's been patient. I will be updating my other fanfics sometime in the near future. The permanent loss of Whole Again and Escape has left me rather hopless—not to mention quite a few other things. If you have copy-pasted-saved either of those stories, I would be eternally in your debt if you would kindly email them to me at or . Thanks
I still have Sirius, Remus, James, Orlando, Cody, and Aaron as my muses (true, I'm holding Sirius and Remus captive) but I've also acquired Draco and Harry.
Draco: Acquired? You stole us out of our beds!
Harry: Our very separate beds (looks slightly panicked)
Draco: (rolling eyes) No kidding...
Anyway! They've graciously accepted to go along with my slash story (which this is, I did warn you in the summary). Draco is here to keep his journal as in-character as possible. Harry is here for...
Sirius: Your own sick amusement
Me: No, that's what the rest of you are for...
All (but Harry and Draco): Oooh...
Anyway! Harry is here for purposes unknown to me at this time—but I'm keeping him anyway!
Draco: (unenthusiastically) Oh joy...
Yup! So please read and review!