Inside the Mind of a Blond Billionaire
Its A Small World
Life after the War for a set free Death Eater is hard. Especially since he has been made to see a shrink. Who in turn makes him keep a diary. A diary. Follow Draco Malfoy's laughter, tears & red-faced moments after the Second War. All through his supposed 'Daily Journal'. Journal indeed... DMHG
Disclaimer : No, I am not JK Rowling. Obviously. This story may contain DH spoilers.
You have been warned.
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Wednesday. 1-1-2009
Hello. Well, I don't actually know how to begin. I never had a diary before. I have been forced by my psychiatrist to start one. Though she assures me that I am writing a daily journal, I know better. Can you imagine? I mean making me write a diary? My name is Draco, by the way. Draco Malfoy. So. I am nineteen, have blond hair, am 6'4 and own my own company. Malfoy International. My business sells potions. We are the largest maker of potions in England. And yes I sell illegal potions too, the Bulgarians don't mind dabbling on the wrong side of the law. You know this, Penny, so don't even pretend to be shocked when you read this on Monday. I have a big office. With a spinny chair. And a lovely secretary. I didn't hire her for her brains. If you get my meaning. Shut up Penny, you know this too.
Potty, Weasel, she-Weasel and the bushy haired know-it-all are famous. Playing Quidditch, I believe. Well Potter is. Don't know about the rest. Granger is no doubt crusading for whatever band wagon she has jumped on. Honestly, she just doesn't understand how things work in the Wizarding world. I know this, because I read it in the Daily Prophet yesterday. Stupid waste of paper in my opinion. Do you know they have an article in there, every day about what the 'Golden Trio' are getting up to? Of course you don't know, I only bought you from Flourish and Blotts this morning. And you are a book. They have followed me countless times. Trying to discover who my love interests are. Idiots. Diaries are gay. I hate you. You too Penny. And no, I did not write in here about those twits because I want to, nor because I have an obsession. I have to. That's Penny's fault as well.
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Thursday.2-1-2009
I only have to write in you once a day you know. So don't expect anything more. Nothing happened at work today. It was the first day back from Christmas holidays. I don't have friends, by the way. Except for Marnie. She is the bane of my life, and not considered a friend at all. She talks. I don't like her. I slept with her once. Once. And she decided I was lonely and needed a friend. A Malfoy, needing friends. There was another article about Granger in the Prophet. Something about the Gryffindor Princess was back in London. Pity. I have a date, tomorrow. With a girl, her name is... erm, something like Jessica? Shit. I will have to look it up. Very pretty. I am taking her to a restaurant called 'The Golden Chalice'. It is not a pub. I go to pubs with Marnie. I do not take dates there. Satisfied?
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Friday.3-1-2009.
Tonight was a catastrophe. I forgot her name. It was Jacinta. Not Jessica. After I managed to get her to laugh off that, I walked into a pole and broke my nose. She apparated me to St Mungo's Hospital. By the time they saw me and fixed my nose, she had gone. The Prophet got pictures of me desperate and dateless in hospital with blood gushing out of my face. It was not my day.
To top it off, the biggest deal of my short, one year career fell through, and my secretary left me. She said she wanted to work for Potter. How one could choose Potter over me I do not know. An embarrassment, really. I won't be telling mum that on Sunday. Yes I am in contact with my family. Sunday lunches, every week, without fail. Of course, this does get extremely annoying, Mother constantly telling me to bring a girl round if I have one. She is as bad as the press. Strange woman. Then again, she is a Black. Nutters the lot of them, I swear. I hate my life. I blame that on you, Penny. Cow.
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Saturday.4-1-2009
How big is this world do you think? I mean, really? How many people? And not just in the Wizarding world, but in the Muggle world too. Millions, there are. Billions. So how come, that I run into... No, thats not right. Sit on Hermione Granger in a Muggle restaurant? Note the muggle. How did I sit on her, you ask? She hasn't grown since first year, I swear. She is tiny! Okay, so it was partly my fault I didn't see her, but her hair isn't bushy. I didn't see her sitting there. And I sat on her. In my very, very short running shorts. To make things worse, she brought attention to me in the worst possible way. She screamed. To bring some ape running towards her from the male toilets, yelling at me to get off his girl. I froze. And got a black eye, as well as losing the chance to ever have children. Bitch. She, was the one who killed my children, by the way. I was in that restaurant getting breakfast. If you didn't guess, I didn't get breakfast. Don't you dare laugh, either.
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Still Saturday.4-1-2009
Look, I know I said once a day. But I have to tell you this. Geez I talk to you like a human... Anyway, so guess who I ran into again. At my own company. Granger. Yes, the one I squashed. She, wants to make a deal with my company. To sell her potions. Did I tell you, her potion is illegal? I know, I know. She isn't a goody two shoes. The Weasel twins had a bad effect on her. We are now partners. The only reason I agreed to the deal, is because it will make me a lot of money, and the shrink will think I have gotten over my hatred. Oh shit. She reads this anyway. Scrap that. Penny, you didn't see this. Ever. Honest.
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Thought I should let you know. 'Penny' as he so often refers to is his psychiatrist. Reviews anyone?
Lady Sarai Black
