Author's Note

Before I begin these are some things you should know about this story:

* It changes POV's. I tried to make it all through Draco's, but then I realized it would be slightly boring that way.

* The rating my change in later chapters, I'm not sure, but for now it'll be PG-13

* Yes, I know, I'm an Austin Powers fan . . . Don't sue me for it!! I didn't take any lines from the movie, (not yet anyhow, and I might not, but if I do, I WILL warn you ahead of time!) just some of the title.

*Disclaimer: No characters belong to me!!

Chapter One: Draco's Feelings

DRACO'S POV

I think that my evilness has faded slightly since I started school in my sixth year. I haven't taunted anyone and I don't feel like it either. I wrote a letter to my father and he blamed it on all those Muggle Pudding Packets I've been eating. Can I help it if I'm addicted to them? No! And I don't think that muggle food is making me have strange feelings about my sexuality. I didn't write that in my note to father, more than likely he would come to the school and kill me . . . Nope, not gonna tell. Uh-uh.

It's not strange that I've suddenly got feelings for boys, it's strange to who my feelings are directed at! Harry Potter, of all people. I mean, sure, he's got some nice come-backs, he looks sexy when he's angry, he has a wonderful personality and has had thirteen girlfriends for the past year! I'm not jealous or anything. Draco Malfoy is NOT the type to get jealous. Especially over him.

So, I'll just sit here, alone in my dorm, staring at the ceiling . . . with no one around to talk me out of it . . . Seeing pictures of Harry slide before my open eyes . . .

I roll over and bury my face in my pillow, squeezing my eyes closed. Perhaps if I focus on my Muggle Pudding Packs my feelings for him will disappear . . . Mmmm! Chocolate pudding with vanilla in the middle . . . it's like Heaven when it slides down your aching throat . . .

My eyes snap open and I jump out of bed. Now I'm imagining me and Harry sitting together in the Great Hall, while no one's around . . . feeding me my pudding . . .

Maybe a shower will change my . . . evil thoughts. I say evil, because that's what these thoughts are. They're evil. Nobody - especially a Malfoy - should ever think about Harry unless dreaming about him being stabbed and hearing him scream in pain, watching his dead body fall to the floor, and you yourself laughing, knowing that Voldemort will pass on his heir to you . . . Ah!

Finally my thoughts on Harry are how they should be, and how they will remain. The hot steam from the shower and the warm water sliding down my back was just enough to pull me back to reality. Harry will be killed soon, at my hands. Voldemort will love me, I will MAKE him love me. If he loves me, he won't kill me. Personally, I'd rather have Harry die than me. And once Harry is gone I will take over and rule the world! "Mwuahahahaha!" I laugh evilly. Suddenly, I notice I'm not the only one who's taking a shower at the moment.

Three other boys, preferably Slytherin sixth and seventh years are staring at me, and one of them is shaking his head, like I'm some kind of lunatic or something.

Silence.

What? Are they waiting for me to say something to end this awkward pause? I clear my throat, as if I'm beginning to say something, but then decide there's nothing to say.

The water turns off on it's own, it's charmed to know when someone is done, and automatically stop. Someone coughs. That stupid sixth year is still staring at me, and now someone else is shaking his head.

I reach behind me and grab my towel, wrapping it firmly around my waste, ignoring the stares. Never have I been more embarrassed. Slowly, I take a step backward, not loosing eye contact, and rush out the door.

Curse the day Harry Potter lived!!

HARRY'S POV

By staring out my window I can only guess it must be late. Which is stupid because it obviously is late on account of everybody sleeping. Ron and Neville's snoring has kept me up, and my fantasies on my girlfriend Kara has also kept me up. She sure is pretty. With long, silver-blond hair and blue eyes. Her lips are thick and a creamy pink . . . Although she assures she's not veela, I'm having trouble believing it. The only thing that's bad about her is that she's related to Professor Snape. She's his cousin's sister's husband's daughter's niece. Or something like that. Normally I don't listen to what she says, but rather focus on her lips and wonder when I'm going to get to kiss them.

I've noticed lately that Draco seems to be more-and-more preoccupied with me, Ron, and Hermione. On the inside it feels sort of weird, but on the outside I pretend that he's only doing it to decide when to hex me. The only thing I can blame his strange behavior on are those Muggle Pudding Pack's he's constantly eating. Not that it would change anything about him. I've eaten muggle food my entire life!

But Draco hasn't. And now it's making him stare at me like I'm some kind of freak. (Well, I must be a freak, why else does everyone pick on me?) He seems to try any possible way to touch me, and when I think I'm walking alone in a corridor he always appears behind me, chasing me and screaming, "WAIT HARRY! WE MUST TALK! IS TOMORROW OKAY??"

People have been giving me strange looks. I think he's paid Collin Creevey to photograph me sleeping. Collin is almost as stubborn as Neville and I hear him falling over trunks and clothing at night when he comes to photograph me. Why would Malfoy want to do something like that? It's almost as if he likes me or something . . .

Nah! Malfoy liking anyone besides girl's is like an elephant falling in love with a mouse. It's impossible. I should direct my attention elsewhere and focus on Kara's lips.

Is the only thing that attracts me to her is her lips? Sure, I dream about kissing her, but lately I've been dreaming about having sex with Malfoy, and kissing Malfoy, screaming Malfoy's name, and feeling Malfoy's hot breath, and his sweat streaked body on top of mine . . . .

I wonder if there is a spell to stop having dreams about people of your same gender in that way? Tomorrow I'll go to the library and find out . . .
The thing about stopping the dreams is, I like having them and they keep me sleeping. But when I wake up it takes every nerve on my body to avoid screaming.

What is wrong with me?

Should I talk to Madame Pomfrey?