I really dunno why I decided to rite this but I think I had a bit too much to eat…

It's basically PWP- plot? What Plot?

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter (the fabulous J.K Rowling is the mastermind behind that)

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =  

Title- The Desire to Love

Chapter 1

Facts of life

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =  

I had decided to write a book but have no idea what to write it on, but the hopes of finding the inspiration to do so were wearing thin.

I never really had an obsession but there was one thing that bugged me a bit.

I had never considered what it would be like to observe the famous boy-who-lived for the whole entire day.

I soon found out that I had missed out five consecutive years of sheer humour.

The fact that I am a Malfoy proves the matter of not being able to scrutinize our little Potter with the intense-ness until after the fifth year.

Translation of the above- Malfoy's don't watch or any under circumstances stare intently at Potter's.

The reason being is two words- My father.

It wasn't until the start of the Christmas Eve that I received my life long gift of having my Father torn from my mother and me by excessive force from the Ministry of Magic.

From that day onwards, I have never seen my mother so happy and carefree; I didn't know she hated him as much as I.

It was Lucius who taught me to loathe the Potter boy, who taught me the darkest magic beyond darkness and who taught me love was not a necessary component in life.

I spent those five wretched years drowned in the darkness of Malfoy pride, the pride that my father had created to form the person I am now.

Fortunately for me, he had only gone through the first 16 years of my life filling up my head with dirt on the school of Hogwarts, before he was taken away…… before his influence had destroyed my future prior to it even starting.

Mother soon corrected all the information fed to me by those poisonous lips but the one thing which she couldn't correct was my hatred.

Once I hate, it's a hard factor to erase.

The other thing she couldn't correct was the smirk of mine but I think that was a trait I inherited and not gained out of utter practise.

Not that I didn't get enough of it at school.

I soon found school a more enjoyable place to be despite the piece of meat behind bottle thick glasses that wouldn't stop staring at me from across the great hall every time we had breakfast.

The previous year which had also been the fate of my father had also been the downfall of Lord you-know-who. Apparently it had been due time for him to burn in the fires of hell with the assistance of Professor Dumbledore.

And in the burning fires of hell should he stay, I practically begged father not to burn that hideous black thing on my smooth pale skin and too glad I was when the time came that I had found out he had disintegrated to his fiery fate.

So it was this detail that had everyone at school ecstatic but me. Not that I wasn't, it was just the years of learning to hide emotion which prevented my face from splitting into a smirk.

The Slytherin's weren't particularly happy about the news, as most of their parents were caught and thrown in Azkaban leaving them in charge of their household, but they were significantly looking happier than they would if everything had stayed the same.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts had warmed greatly over the few weeks and much to my surprise I found houses had began to mingle with each other, including the Slytherin's and the Gryffindor's.

Quidditch matches resumed as normal but the captains were nicer to each other, and though the game itself was still rough, there were no grudges held against any of the players.

Well, almost all the players, I think I was the only one who wasn't in the merry mood of the year.

Although I was taught to be kinder to everyone at school and to learn to express my emotions, my years of experience had overridden the attempt to be nice.

I wasn't mean though, I had had enough of the mean me. That part of me has taken over my years and it was stopping once and for all.

I had taken to keeping to myself, occasionally glancing towards the Gryffindor table every now and then. They were always laughing so loud at things.

It wasn't until a few months later that the houses thought it would be fun to sit at different tables, and the headmaster didn't bother to break the bond between houses.

It had become noticeably annoying when I found Goyle and Crabbe sitting at the Hufflepuff table one day when I came down for dinner, they were sitting with their new friends and decided to eat with them as well.

I think it was the first time that day that I felt irritated at the seating arrangements, there were actually Slytherin's sitting on different tables and students of other houses sitting in the seats of the Slytherin's.

It was precisely the only day I had decided on my free will to sit by myself at the end of the table where there were no occupants, I didn't care if anybody saw me without my so-called friends. Like I said, my father was gone and with him went my arrogance.

Well a bit of my arrogance anyway.

It was also the day which I picked up the trait of staring, or rather, looking intently at Harry Potter. Observing his every move, from the moment he stepped into the hall and fell flat on his face.

Quite amusing display if I say so myself and when he picked himself up, he had a somewhat pink and circular blotch on his forehead along with an unidentifiable message flashing across the legendary scar.

He looked murderous and stormed over to the Ravenclaw table to the Irish boy, otherwise known as Seamus Finnigan, green eyes flashing and black hair swirled up into a mess.

I propped my elbows up onto the table to watch the scene that was quickly rising before me, I wasn't hungry and besides, this was Potter, the Mr-I-fell-over-on-my-way-in Potter getting into a fight with someone from his own house.

"JUST WHAT WERE YOU THINKING MESSING AROUND WITH MY FACEWASH???" the words just boomed from Potter's lips with such an extreme force that Seamus propelled off his chair in gales of laughter.

Potter looked ready to kill and I could tell why now that he was closer to my table, on this forehead flashed the words in perfectly readable English "A knut a fuck"        

I could already tell this was going to be good, Potter was beyond angry as he picked the laughing Irish off the floor by his collar and growled out the words "FIX IT"

I already had my journal out to write down the latest entry.

"I-I c-c-can't!" the sandy haired boy was laughing so much that he had a hard time trying to say those two simple words, and these two simple words had a rather devastating effect on Potter.

Somebody was going to have to get on a broomstick and collect that Irish off the roof.

Note to self- Do not piss Potter off

I didn't think that Potter had it in him to throw a person on the roof, let alone have the strength in those scrawny bones to even manage it. The scary facts of life are yet to be discovered by the hands of a Wizard.

The scary facts of Potter's life are now decidedly placed in my hands. By myself, with the assistance of Potter himself but all he needs to do is let me observe him (without him knowing)

So begins the plans of my book and the brilliant ideas that revolve around my brains but first, I must learn to get rid of this arrogance……….

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Yeah short and boring but the start of Malfoy's book plans

Feel free to drop a review!