The Ever Typical but Ever Present Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, etc. etc. I don't own Hogwarts. I don't own any of the courses taught. I own nothing but the idea. The rest belongs to J.K. Rowling, and she has no idea what I write. I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I intend to do her harm with my works. I intend no disrespect by the mediocre quality of my writing. I merely borrow and use the characters at my leisure.
The Ever Typical Slash Warning: This is slash. As in male-on-male slash. As in Harry-and-Draco slash. As in No-Homophobes-Allowed slash. Flame me and only prove your immaturity.
Other Warnings: I don't own Savage Garden, or Little Mermaid, or any songs that may be included in this piece. I do own Draco Malfoy's diary, however, as it is my written work.
J'y Suis, J'y Reste
Written by Rezi
-=-incomplete-=-
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Draco's POV. Much like a diary; he's just contemplating through the years.
No, I'm not sorry for dissing Ron. I don't take to him too well. Yes, Draco is my favorite character, and I will defend him if I must. Yes, I adore Hermione and Harry. And yes, I've written very little Harry Potter fanfiction.
This was written in two main time periods. Fifth Year: Pre-Christmas Holiday and the first several paragraphs, along with the first opening lines, were written much earlier and thus, in a different style. More casual and less aristocratic.
Oh, by the way-? Draco Malfoy is probably out of character. I say probably because he isn't spoken too thoroughly of in the books, so his true feelings remain unknown.
============================
Pre-First Year: Madam Wilkins
This is wrong.
I know this is wrong. I may only be eleven, but then again, I'm a lot smarter than most kids my age.
But it doesn't take a genius to know that boys aren't supposed to like other boys. Just as Malfoys aren't supposed to like Potters.
But I do. And I know from the looks that he's given me when he thought I wasn't watching- although how could I not? I'm always watching him- that somewhere, deep down, he harbors similar feelings in this forbidden attraction.
Father has always told me that I'm too smart for my age sometimes. This is one of those times. I shouldn't have to deal with this! Not until I'm at least fifteen or sixteen... I don't want to deal with it now! A new school, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named- how can Harry say the name without fear?- is on the rise. My parents are putting more and more stress on me to be the picture perfect Slytherin boy. Son of great Death Eaters.
But I hate it.
Look at me, rambling on about something that makes no sense. If I were to read back on this in five years, I probably wouldn't have a clue what I was talking about.
This afternoon, I met Harry Potter. Yes, the Harry Potter. The famous Boy-Who-Lived. I have always been trained to loathe him, though I had never known him- and upon our brief encounter, I realized that I couldn't despise him; Quite the opposite. I was attracted to him. Yet another result of my curse called maturity. Intellect. Bah humbug.
He has wild, black hair and bright, green eyes. He reminded me of a raven chick, barely out of its nest.
He didn't tell me his name, but I know it's him. I've seen pictures of James Potter in my father's old schoolbooks, and his son bears an uncanny, almost startling resemblance to Potter Senior. But he has Lily's eyes, he has his mother's jade pinprick eyes.
I've never felt this way about anyone, and certainly not so instantly as I had with the boy. And I know I shouldn't, but it's a guilty sin. I read a quote by a Muggle named Oscar Wilde; it said: "All the good things in life are immoral, illegal or heavily taxed." Certainly, feeling affection for someone of your same gender who is a stranger to you and you had always been instructed to despise is immoral. So this is a good thing then, right?
Father disapproves of anything Muggle and true, with the heavy air of magic about the manor, Muggle technology would be rendered incapable of functioning. However, there is a forest a ways away, where I have some minor Muggle treats secretly stored- a "CD Player", some "CD's", Muggle literary works, and toys that don't move but are as soft as anything. There is a quaint little bird, which is white on its belly while black all over its backside, and I am quite fond of it. I have seen pictures of similar creatures, and I believe Muggles call them penguins. I have multiple penguin toys, of different shapes and sizes but all so endeaaringly soft.
One of the CDs that I own belongs to an Australian band known as "Savage Garden". It is an odd name, but it has an almost exotic appeal. After meeting Harry Potter, I went to my forest hideout and enjoyed a round of the CD. One of the songs I had never paid much close attention to, but upon listening to the words, it rang quite true.
"I feel the magic all around you / It's bringing me to my knees
Like a wannabe / I've gotta be chained to you."
The concept of a "wannabe" escapes me, and I believe "gotta" is a slang term for "got to". But it's exactly how I felt.
Draco Malfoy, what have you gotten yourself into?
First Year: First Night
Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor. That is no surprise. He rejected my offer at friendship. That is also no surprise. But what was alarming was that he seemed to prefer Ronald Weasley's company over my own. Of all the people! Why that carrot-headed imbecile?! Why that weak nobody?! The Mudblood I could understand- she is much more fitting to his personality, and I must admit, her intellect even surpasses mine. But the Weasel is nothing! It's a stinging blow to my pride to be turned down as it is, but it's not likely a friendship could have formed anyhow, him being a Gryffindor and my being a Slytherin. However, to be replaced by WEASLEY?! That is an outrage!
At dinner, I could hardly stop watching them. Even as that idiot girl Pansy, living in her fantasy world, clung to me and chattered away, I watched Gryffindor table. I watched Harry become acquainted with Granger, and watched him joke about with Weasley. Watched him associate with Finnigan, laugh with Thomas, sympathize Longbottom, listen to Jordan, endure the twins... and a mad rush of hideous envy washed over me. I wanted to send everybody there to hell and back, holding Harry not unlike the way Pansy treats me, and declare him my possession.
This is so unnatural, and so unpleasant.
Fifth Year: Pre-Christmas Holiday
I'm taking Muggle Studies now, I just got transferred in. But as an extra class- with Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, I sit in the back of the room. I don't go unnoticed, but the kids in there have sense enough to keep their mouths shut. Professor Dumbledore agreed not to tell my parents.
Today, we were watching some kids' movie, by some company called "Disney", which apparently muggles grow up with. It was "The Little Mermaid", and it's ridiculous how poorly they portrayed merpeople. But it was entertaining. The main character is some redheaded teeenaged girl named Ariel who wants to be human- that in itself is ridiculous. The merfolk love the water, they think the land is a limitation because you can only live in so few dimensions. Forward, back. Left, right. Without the help of brooms or wands, we can't even go up. But mermaids live in a freer world, where they can go up and down and around and spin and race and all sorts of fascinating activities- but that's besides the point.
She was singing something when in her underwater cave. I dictated down the lyrics- they 'hit home', I guess, in Muggle terms.
Look at this stuff; Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?
Wouldn't you think I'm a girl guy, a girl guy who has everything?
Look at this stuff, treasures untold. How many wonders can one tavern hold?
Lookin' around here, you'd think... sure. She's He's got everything.
I've got gizmos and gadgets aplenty. I've got whose-its and whats-its galore.
You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty. But who cares? No big deal.
I want more.
Kinda reminds me of my own situation, in its own half-assed way. I've got anything money could buy, but I don't have the nonworldly, immaterialistic possesssion that poorer people have. Why should that Weasley get to be near Har Potter all the time!? What did he do to deserve it!? Why did Potter choose him over me!?
Because I deserve it. Because I was a bloody conceited, self-centered prat. Because I blatantly insulted someone who was obviously his friend.
What would I give, if I could live out of these waters?
What would I pay to spend a day warm on the sand?
Bet up on land, they'd understand. Bet they don't repremend their daughters children.
Bright young women wizards, sick of swimmin', ready to stand, and
I'd give a lot. I'd give my reputation. I'd give my wealth. I'd give my pride. Anything for that warm patch of sand that Potter and his tagalongs have- true, sincere warmth, not the synthetic, overdone warmth that people of my class have.
But none are mine to give. My life and my future belong to my parents. And they belong to Lord Voldemort.
Does that mean I belong to Him? I'd much rather belong to Harry.
Sorry, Ariel. Things aren't so sunny bright up here on land. You think parents don't repremend their kids for knowing too much for their own good? Think again.
You've got it made down there.
But just as your ocean is a prison to you, my name is a prison to me.
Ready to know what the people know.
Ask 'em my questions and get some answers...
What is a fire, and why does it... what's the word?... burn!
That's what I'd like to know. What's a fire and why does it burn? Weasley. What gives him his own personal 'flame'? What makes him so special? Why did the great Harry Potter single him out from the crowd to be his best friend?!
What's the knowledge that Ron has that I don't? I know what it is. And know that it's beyond my reach because my chains of blood hold me back, to where I can see the water to soothe my parched throat but am unable to reach it by mere inches.
He knows how to socialize. He knows how to get along with people. But most of all, he knows how to be sincere.
I can't open my mouth without a smart aleck comment popping out. I have to check my behavior to see that it's up to Malfoy standards. Everyone expects so much of me because of the reputation my ancestorial Malfoys created for me.
Thanks a lot.
When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love... love to explore the world up above!
Wandering free... wish I could be part of that world.
Fifth Year: Christmas Vacation
Potter is staying behind, as he always does. But this year, Granger and Weasley are gone. He's probably all alone in the Gryffindor common room this very moment... sitting in front of the fire... opening what few presents he's received from his friends...
And happy with every one.
How different our situations are. My parents have sent me plenty, enough to surpass all the other Slytherins- of course. They have to show off their wealth. And when students begin to return, I know that I'll do the same that they did, and show it all off.
But I take no pride in it, nor do I find pleasure in what I receive. Thought has never gone into any of the gifts. My parents think they fool me into thinking that I am loved, but worldly goods can't replace warm feelings.
I'm so cold... what I would give to join Harry in front of his fire. Borrow some of his natural warmth. Melt away at the icy coldness that I live with.
Fifth Year: Post-Christmas Vacation
Almost everyone's come back to school now.
The Ever Typical Slash Warning: This is slash. As in male-on-male slash. As in Harry-and-Draco slash. As in No-Homophobes-Allowed slash. Flame me and only prove your immaturity.
Other Warnings: I don't own Savage Garden, or Little Mermaid, or any songs that may be included in this piece. I do own Draco Malfoy's diary, however, as it is my written work.
Written by Rezi
-=-incomplete-=-
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Draco's POV. Much like a diary; he's just contemplating through the years.
No, I'm not sorry for dissing Ron. I don't take to him too well. Yes, Draco is my favorite character, and I will defend him if I must. Yes, I adore Hermione and Harry. And yes, I've written very little Harry Potter fanfiction.
This was written in two main time periods. Fifth Year: Pre-Christmas Holiday and the first several paragraphs, along with the first opening lines, were written much earlier and thus, in a different style. More casual and less aristocratic.
Oh, by the way-? Draco Malfoy is probably out of character. I say probably because he isn't spoken too thoroughly of in the books, so his true feelings remain unknown.
============================
Pre-First Year: Madam Wilkins
This is wrong.
I know this is wrong. I may only be eleven, but then again, I'm a lot smarter than most kids my age.
But it doesn't take a genius to know that boys aren't supposed to like other boys. Just as Malfoys aren't supposed to like Potters.
But I do. And I know from the looks that he's given me when he thought I wasn't watching- although how could I not? I'm always watching him- that somewhere, deep down, he harbors similar feelings in this forbidden attraction.
Father has always told me that I'm too smart for my age sometimes. This is one of those times. I shouldn't have to deal with this! Not until I'm at least fifteen or sixteen... I don't want to deal with it now! A new school, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named- how can Harry say the name without fear?- is on the rise. My parents are putting more and more stress on me to be the picture perfect Slytherin boy. Son of great Death Eaters.
But I hate it.
Look at me, rambling on about something that makes no sense. If I were to read back on this in five years, I probably wouldn't have a clue what I was talking about.
This afternoon, I met Harry Potter. Yes, the Harry Potter. The famous Boy-Who-Lived. I have always been trained to loathe him, though I had never known him- and upon our brief encounter, I realized that I couldn't despise him; Quite the opposite. I was attracted to him. Yet another result of my curse called maturity. Intellect. Bah humbug.
He has wild, black hair and bright, green eyes. He reminded me of a raven chick, barely out of its nest.
He didn't tell me his name, but I know it's him. I've seen pictures of James Potter in my father's old schoolbooks, and his son bears an uncanny, almost startling resemblance to Potter Senior. But he has Lily's eyes, he has his mother's jade pinprick eyes.
I've never felt this way about anyone, and certainly not so instantly as I had with the boy. And I know I shouldn't, but it's a guilty sin. I read a quote by a Muggle named Oscar Wilde; it said: "All the good things in life are immoral, illegal or heavily taxed." Certainly, feeling affection for someone of your same gender who is a stranger to you and you had always been instructed to despise is immoral. So this is a good thing then, right?
Father disapproves of anything Muggle and true, with the heavy air of magic about the manor, Muggle technology would be rendered incapable of functioning. However, there is a forest a ways away, where I have some minor Muggle treats secretly stored- a "CD Player", some "CD's", Muggle literary works, and toys that don't move but are as soft as anything. There is a quaint little bird, which is white on its belly while black all over its backside, and I am quite fond of it. I have seen pictures of similar creatures, and I believe Muggles call them penguins. I have multiple penguin toys, of different shapes and sizes but all so endeaaringly soft.
One of the CDs that I own belongs to an Australian band known as "Savage Garden". It is an odd name, but it has an almost exotic appeal. After meeting Harry Potter, I went to my forest hideout and enjoyed a round of the CD. One of the songs I had never paid much close attention to, but upon listening to the words, it rang quite true.
"I feel the magic all around you / It's bringing me to my knees
Like a wannabe / I've gotta be chained to you."
The concept of a "wannabe" escapes me, and I believe "gotta" is a slang term for "got to". But it's exactly how I felt.
Draco Malfoy, what have you gotten yourself into?
First Year: First Night
Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor. That is no surprise. He rejected my offer at friendship. That is also no surprise. But what was alarming was that he seemed to prefer Ronald Weasley's company over my own. Of all the people! Why that carrot-headed imbecile?! Why that weak nobody?! The Mudblood I could understand- she is much more fitting to his personality, and I must admit, her intellect even surpasses mine. But the Weasel is nothing! It's a stinging blow to my pride to be turned down as it is, but it's not likely a friendship could have formed anyhow, him being a Gryffindor and my being a Slytherin. However, to be replaced by WEASLEY?! That is an outrage!
At dinner, I could hardly stop watching them. Even as that idiot girl Pansy, living in her fantasy world, clung to me and chattered away, I watched Gryffindor table. I watched Harry become acquainted with Granger, and watched him joke about with Weasley. Watched him associate with Finnigan, laugh with Thomas, sympathize Longbottom, listen to Jordan, endure the twins... and a mad rush of hideous envy washed over me. I wanted to send everybody there to hell and back, holding Harry not unlike the way Pansy treats me, and declare him my possession.
This is so unnatural, and so unpleasant.
Fifth Year: Pre-Christmas Holiday
I'm taking Muggle Studies now, I just got transferred in. But as an extra class- with Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, I sit in the back of the room. I don't go unnoticed, but the kids in there have sense enough to keep their mouths shut. Professor Dumbledore agreed not to tell my parents.
Today, we were watching some kids' movie, by some company called "Disney", which apparently muggles grow up with. It was "The Little Mermaid", and it's ridiculous how poorly they portrayed merpeople. But it was entertaining. The main character is some redheaded teeenaged girl named Ariel who wants to be human- that in itself is ridiculous. The merfolk love the water, they think the land is a limitation because you can only live in so few dimensions. Forward, back. Left, right. Without the help of brooms or wands, we can't even go up. But mermaids live in a freer world, where they can go up and down and around and spin and race and all sorts of fascinating activities- but that's besides the point.
She was singing something when in her underwater cave. I dictated down the lyrics- they 'hit home', I guess, in Muggle terms.
Look at this stuff; Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?
Wouldn't you think I'm a girl guy, a girl guy who has everything?
Look at this stuff, treasures untold. How many wonders can one tavern hold?
Lookin' around here, you'd think... sure. She's He's got everything.
I've got gizmos and gadgets aplenty. I've got whose-its and whats-its galore.
You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty. But who cares? No big deal.
I want more.
Kinda reminds me of my own situation, in its own half-assed way. I've got anything money could buy, but I don't have the nonworldly, immaterialistic possesssion that poorer people have. Why should that Weasley get to be near Har Potter all the time!? What did he do to deserve it!? Why did Potter choose him over me!?
Because I deserve it. Because I was a bloody conceited, self-centered prat. Because I blatantly insulted someone who was obviously his friend.
What would I give, if I could live out of these waters?
What would I pay to spend a day warm on the sand?
Bet up on land, they'd understand. Bet they don't repremend their daughters children.
Bright young women wizards, sick of swimmin', ready to stand, and
I'd give a lot. I'd give my reputation. I'd give my wealth. I'd give my pride. Anything for that warm patch of sand that Potter and his tagalongs have- true, sincere warmth, not the synthetic, overdone warmth that people of my class have.
But none are mine to give. My life and my future belong to my parents. And they belong to Lord Voldemort.
Does that mean I belong to Him? I'd much rather belong to Harry.
Sorry, Ariel. Things aren't so sunny bright up here on land. You think parents don't repremend their kids for knowing too much for their own good? Think again.
You've got it made down there.
But just as your ocean is a prison to you, my name is a prison to me.
Ready to know what the people know.
Ask 'em my questions and get some answers...
What is a fire, and why does it... what's the word?... burn!
That's what I'd like to know. What's a fire and why does it burn? Weasley. What gives him his own personal 'flame'? What makes him so special? Why did the great Harry Potter single him out from the crowd to be his best friend?!
What's the knowledge that Ron has that I don't? I know what it is. And know that it's beyond my reach because my chains of blood hold me back, to where I can see the water to soothe my parched throat but am unable to reach it by mere inches.
He knows how to socialize. He knows how to get along with people. But most of all, he knows how to be sincere.
I can't open my mouth without a smart aleck comment popping out. I have to check my behavior to see that it's up to Malfoy standards. Everyone expects so much of me because of the reputation my ancestorial Malfoys created for me.
Thanks a lot.
When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love... love to explore the world up above!
Wandering free... wish I could be part of that world.
Fifth Year: Christmas Vacation
Potter is staying behind, as he always does. But this year, Granger and Weasley are gone. He's probably all alone in the Gryffindor common room this very moment... sitting in front of the fire... opening what few presents he's received from his friends...
And happy with every one.
How different our situations are. My parents have sent me plenty, enough to surpass all the other Slytherins- of course. They have to show off their wealth. And when students begin to return, I know that I'll do the same that they did, and show it all off.
But I take no pride in it, nor do I find pleasure in what I receive. Thought has never gone into any of the gifts. My parents think they fool me into thinking that I am loved, but worldly goods can't replace warm feelings.
I'm so cold... what I would give to join Harry in front of his fire. Borrow some of his natural warmth. Melt away at the icy coldness that I live with.
Fifth Year: Post-Christmas Vacation
Almost everyone's come back to school now.