Rating T (or maybe really, really slight M? I'm not good at rating). Sort of Fluff, I'd guess. Hogwarts Eight Year, HP:EWE.
It had seemed like such a great idea. Spectacular, even. Finally, he would get a chance to get the upper hand against the Golden Boy. When he had found out the Potter kept a diary, he had sworn to himself that he would lay his hands on it. He would read it and find out his secrets, he was sure there would be something in there that he could use to taunt Potter with. Something that he could blackmail him with, to get him to do his bidding.
He had been right. Sort of. There had been a secret in Potter's diary. Something that no one would ever had been able to guess. Something that now had Draco sitting on his bed, mouth agape from astonishment. He was staring blindly at the paragraph - he had read it maybe a dozen times by now and still just could not wrap his head around it.
The only surprise found in the first part of the diary was that the Golden Boy's life was pretty ordinary. It was filled with worries about his NEWTs, complains about his friends mixed with singing their praise. The only thing missing was any mention of Potter's love life. Not that Draco was interested. It was just that he had thought that Potter would have been pretty busy in that department, able to have his pick among all those fawning followers of his. If he did take the opportunity, there was no mention of it though. There was no mention of anyone holding the Golden Boy's interest in that way.
Then, that changed. At first there had been no name. Just a short mention, written almost like Potter was annoyed with himself for mentioning it - thinking it - at all. Apparently this someone, who had caught his eye, had been looking "especially graceful" on his broom that day. After this first mention, there had been a couple of entries with nothing, and then there had been one again, this time about the sun catching his hair. "Really, Potter?" Draco had thought. Such a cliche! Well, he always new Potter was an unrefined brute.
There had been only one day without a mention before Potter had written an entire paragraph about how this git "gestured dramatically" while talking to his friends, and apparently been entirely oblivious how "magnetic" and "full of life" he had been - something that Potter apparently had been astonished to witness, as this focus for his attention usual was "so in control, never relaxing". Really, what on earth did Potter see in this guy? A probably only half-decent flier with hair on his head who never showed any emotions? Whoever it was, Draco made a mental note to take them down a notch.
After that, there was at least one mention of the git in every entry. Sometimes just a short observation, sometimes Potter went on and on about him. Maybe he was under a love spell? Or a potion? Someone should make sure, so that the idiot did not make even a bigger fool of himself than he already was.
Then there came an entry, two weeks old now, that sounded awfully familiar, Draco just could not place it. Potter wrote about how he had bumped into the guy and the uptight git had almost had a fit. Then, later that day, he had taunted Potter in class, who had been close to loose his temper in reply. Another eight year-student then. Something about Potter's description just sounded like he had maybe been there? Maybe he had, he thought. They shared some classes, after all. That would mean that the student were either another Gryffindor, or a Slytherin. No matter how he tried though, he just could not think of any fight he had witnessed between the Golden Boy and someone else.
A couple of entries more, and then there it was. The next to last entry, from the day before yesterday. At first Potter only wrote about Granger harassing him about his studies (Draco actually thought the mudblood had a point, but that was nothing he would ever admit). Then, there came the one paragraph from which Draco just could not take his eyes.
"We had Care of Magical Creatures today. Hagrid was showing us these skrimoggs and He was making a fuss as always. I know Hagrid can be a little thoughtless and overly enthusiastic at times, but he means well. Why must He always be such a prat? He went on and on to his friends about how it was beneath him to do the sort of menial labor as feeding something he described as a slimy miniature pig. Why can't I just get over him? He is such a pain in the arse! Why can't I stop thinking about how I really, really would prefer him to be a whole different kind of pain in my arse? A pain that would not be as much a pain as… Argh, why can't I stop thinking about him? He's a prejudiced snob, he's an ex- Death Eater for Merlin's sake! If I hadn't had Pomfrey check me for all love potions and spells there are, I would think that was the reason, but apparently this is just my messed up mind. I'm so fucked. (Or actually, I'm not. That's the problem, really. Sigh.)"
The mysterious guy had called those disgusting things slimy miniature pigs? He used to be a Death Eater? There was only on person Draco could think of, that fit that description. Who also took excellent care of his hair, making sure it always caught the light just right. Who was absolutely marvelous at flying.
Who, now that Draco thought about it, had been annoyed with Potter a couple of weeks ago, when they had run into each other and Potter had thus interrupted his thoughts of just what he might do with the Golden Boy when he got his hands on the prat's diary and found some juicy secret to blackmail him with. His thoughts had gone in a direction he was not going to confess to anyone - not even himself. And then they had been abrupted by running into the focus for said thoughts.
For a long time, Draco just sat there, unable to do anything, not even move forward in his thoughts. He seemed to be stuck in his own head. He just could not bring himself to even think about the identity of Potter's secret crush.
After a long while, Draco forced himself to turn the page to the last entry. He sat there, staring almost blindly at it for a while, before rising to his feet like he was in a haze. He threw the diary in his trunk and resealed it so that no one else would get to it. Then he run out of the dorms, suddenly in a hurry. His friends shouted something after him, but he did not stop to listen. He just run like he had never run before.
The last entry had been short. Staring at it, he had memorized it.
"Malfoy. I know you know about my journal. I know you are planning to steal it. I know what you will find out when you read it. I will leave the journal unattended and pretend not to notice you taking it. It's probably stupid, but I'm getting tired at constantly thinking about you, so I decided to risk it. It's the Gryffindor thing after all - "to take stupid risks" as you so eloquently put it on several occasions.
I'll be out by the lake the whole day. Be there before nightfall. Come and be the pain in my arse that I'm dreaming about."
