The Diary of Draco Malfoy – Chapter 8
A/N: This has one uncensored very bad word. Thank you for the reviews, never imagined in the whole of my existence that I would reach the 100 mark. God Bless you and happy reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and any of the characters with the exception of Ethan, Uncle Brandon and Dr. Spoons. The latter is just a mere figment of my imagination, while the remaining two are considered properties of Mark Burnett and their mothers.
December 19
I decided to pick my brain and tell Uncle Brandon absolutely everything.
He asked me, " Did you, by any chance, see the new 1272 Malfoy Code of Law? "
He said that we are to be exiled to Peru. My semi-masticated sausage flew out of my mouth and plopped gently on his hair.
A lovely fashion statement, Benjamin, is what it is.
He was more than annoyed to find pig meat tangled upon his raven locks. "It has turned out, sausage-spitter, that they have removed the law against "influencing any Malfoy, regardless of age and status. "
What an unbelievable stroke of luck.
"They thought it couldn't be done. A psychologist just proved the fact that gender transition starts from three months. "
Oh. It does? Then…
"A psychologist named Sir Ethan Knight, I believe, was the one responsible." He swooned.
They knew already. Smart.
Anyways, he hoped for the rule "no public display of affection" to be abolished, too, but of to no avail.
"What's so bad about it, is that I want to see some shifter action! "
I'll just quietly let that pass. My brain cannot take the mental image.
The problem now is Sir Sirius. Harry almost died when Sir Sirius jokingly punched him on the back. How much more tomorrow?
December 20
Harry came back. No fracture, no mourners carrying a large pink coffin ( maybe I do love to exaggerate a bit on the shifter issue ), not even a blood-soaked bandage.
I asked what Sir Sirius' reaction was.
"He just said that he needs to find a wife fast, unless you plan on giving birth to a lad. "
What the hell?!
" It was a joke. "
Some joke!
He laughed. I can guess that the idea of male pregnancy did cross his mind.
" Anyway, he figured that if you get kicked out of your manor, which is very possible, you can live with us. "
Don't tell me. He said that I can sleep on your bed.
" Now that you mention it…"
Harry!
" Draco. We have seventeen sleeping chambers. "
Right.
"All are used, and only mine has an extra bed. "
Damn.
December 21
I really admire Harry for helping me. Hell, even if it is done to pursue his own goals, I still admire him. I might even like him, if only, well, if only I would stop denying to myself that I'm truly a shifter.
Tomorrow, I shall recite my line to the whole of my family. I have to admit, I am afraid of what my father shall do to me.
Of course, there is that danged whip. And I can always be poked severely with the many fencing swords he owns, so there's no telling if I shall live to see another day or not.
What is better? Dying without lying to yourself or living a life of hypocrisy and with a madwoman?
I reckon the first one. Oh, well, as the Irish lad himself used to tell me, "say your prayers".
If I ever get through tomorrow alive, I promise, Lord, no fornication.
Amen.
December 22
I live.
Well, hurting, but my soul is still here, and my hair is still silky soft, so I still live.
The wedding was canceled. The Browns do not want Lavender associating with the likes of me. " A sinful monster who shall rot in hell along with the Jewish and the gypsies."
Speak for yourselves, you bunch of big mammaried, prejudiced, tumble- starved scums.
I always wanted to say that.
Anyway, I was hit numerous times ( about 15, but who's counting? ) in my bulls-eye spot, the arse. Surprisingly, that's about it.
I'm free.
And it all began with a too unusual conversation with Harry Potter.
First, Harry asked me about you. Three days after admitting he likes me, and he's already prying like a lover. Tsk tsk.
Then, Lavender suddenly sat on my lap while we were "conversing about the theory of the world as a sphere".
Silly and impossible as it might sound, that's all I could think of.
I said, Lavender, I cannot see Harry with your two big things blocking the way.
She smiled. I was reminded of my dentist, Dr. Spoons. Good gravy, he would die in his sleep screaming.
Lavender stroked my chest and almost went downwards.
" Tell me you love me. "
No.
" Then we'll be sitting here all day, won't we, Potter? "
How dare she!
So I got a little mad. 'Don't call him that. You have no respect.'
She slapped my arm. Hard. If I could only wring her neck, I would have done it.
" Then say, ' I love you, Lavender.' "
Lavender's mad, and I was glad.
But it didn't leave me much choice. Father was just upstairs.
No complain, no whip, he once said. Apparently, I wasn't so confident with my line anymore.
The trauma got better of me. I muttered, without thinking, Fine. I love you, Harry…oh bloody hell!
Lavender screamed, " What?!! "
Harry was smiling. " What?! "
I didn't know exactly what to do, so I joined the bandwagon. " What? "
" You're a fucking chancer! " Lavender yelled.
So much for the speech I prepared. Oh, and watch your mouth, young lady!
Harry turned spiteful. "You're damned right he is! "
Father, bothered by what he thought were cats that got loose, barged in the living room with, much to my chagrin, a large chunk of plywood.
And the rest, my friend, is history.
Now, if you would excuse me, I have to soak my raw skin in salty water.
December 23
Father was still mad at me, so I really had no choice but to keep quiet the whole of the time.
But, finally, during supper, he gruffly asked, " Who is he? "
It seemed vague. Who is what?
" The lad. "
He did not want to be precise. It probably disgusted him, and I probably disgusted him, too, but I did not have the courage to say so.
No one in particular, I said.
" It can't be no one. How else would you have known that you are…like you are now? "
Stuck. Another flawless execution.
" It's Harry, isn't it? I always thought you felt something for that boy. It never occurred to me that it will be…that kind of feeling, though. Shame. "
And with that killer of a statement he left the room.
Good gravy. Was I that obvious?
So maybe I liked him. A little bit.
December 24
Harry invited me to go to the Christmas ball with him tomorrow.
No, really. With everyone in town hearing it, in fact. Shouted across the meeting room, " Draco, would you be my date for the ball? "
Good gracious. He was lucky father found his ways admirable. " That's a courageous young beast you have there. "
I don't know what he means by "beast" though.
The lads smiled at each other and nudged at Harry. And the others, well, I don't want to know what they were thinking.
What was funny about it, actually, was that, it's so straightforward and honest. Not even a hint of malice or lust. He's not looking for anything after the ball, if you know what I mean.
That's what I want love to be, remember?
Not that I'm saying that it is "love". No.
I think I like him. A larger bit.
Well, I suppose there is nothing else I could do but to dress up real nice for tomorrow, am I right, Benjamin?
Of course I am. I always am.
And, no, Draco, he will not show up in a kirtle.
A/N: Yey! Yey! My writer's block is cured!
Anyways, thank you, again, and this time, before you go click that button ( I hope you do click it ), please tell me what you want to happen next. Just so you know, this will be a smut-free publication, because I owe it all to The Man Upstairs.
No, not Mr. Johnson. You have been watching too many "Whose Line Is It Anyway? " shows.
However, I did not say that there will not be some above-waistline…show of affection.
Ehehehe…you know what I mean.
Got closets?
A/N: This has one uncensored very bad word. Thank you for the reviews, never imagined in the whole of my existence that I would reach the 100 mark. God Bless you and happy reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and any of the characters with the exception of Ethan, Uncle Brandon and Dr. Spoons. The latter is just a mere figment of my imagination, while the remaining two are considered properties of Mark Burnett and their mothers.
December 19
I decided to pick my brain and tell Uncle Brandon absolutely everything.
He asked me, " Did you, by any chance, see the new 1272 Malfoy Code of Law? "
He said that we are to be exiled to Peru. My semi-masticated sausage flew out of my mouth and plopped gently on his hair.
A lovely fashion statement, Benjamin, is what it is.
He was more than annoyed to find pig meat tangled upon his raven locks. "It has turned out, sausage-spitter, that they have removed the law against "influencing any Malfoy, regardless of age and status. "
What an unbelievable stroke of luck.
"They thought it couldn't be done. A psychologist just proved the fact that gender transition starts from three months. "
Oh. It does? Then…
"A psychologist named Sir Ethan Knight, I believe, was the one responsible." He swooned.
They knew already. Smart.
Anyways, he hoped for the rule "no public display of affection" to be abolished, too, but of to no avail.
"What's so bad about it, is that I want to see some shifter action! "
I'll just quietly let that pass. My brain cannot take the mental image.
The problem now is Sir Sirius. Harry almost died when Sir Sirius jokingly punched him on the back. How much more tomorrow?
December 20
Harry came back. No fracture, no mourners carrying a large pink coffin ( maybe I do love to exaggerate a bit on the shifter issue ), not even a blood-soaked bandage.
I asked what Sir Sirius' reaction was.
"He just said that he needs to find a wife fast, unless you plan on giving birth to a lad. "
What the hell?!
" It was a joke. "
Some joke!
He laughed. I can guess that the idea of male pregnancy did cross his mind.
" Anyway, he figured that if you get kicked out of your manor, which is very possible, you can live with us. "
Don't tell me. He said that I can sleep on your bed.
" Now that you mention it…"
Harry!
" Draco. We have seventeen sleeping chambers. "
Right.
"All are used, and only mine has an extra bed. "
Damn.
December 21
I really admire Harry for helping me. Hell, even if it is done to pursue his own goals, I still admire him. I might even like him, if only, well, if only I would stop denying to myself that I'm truly a shifter.
Tomorrow, I shall recite my line to the whole of my family. I have to admit, I am afraid of what my father shall do to me.
Of course, there is that danged whip. And I can always be poked severely with the many fencing swords he owns, so there's no telling if I shall live to see another day or not.
What is better? Dying without lying to yourself or living a life of hypocrisy and with a madwoman?
I reckon the first one. Oh, well, as the Irish lad himself used to tell me, "say your prayers".
If I ever get through tomorrow alive, I promise, Lord, no fornication.
Amen.
December 22
I live.
Well, hurting, but my soul is still here, and my hair is still silky soft, so I still live.
The wedding was canceled. The Browns do not want Lavender associating with the likes of me. " A sinful monster who shall rot in hell along with the Jewish and the gypsies."
Speak for yourselves, you bunch of big mammaried, prejudiced, tumble- starved scums.
I always wanted to say that.
Anyway, I was hit numerous times ( about 15, but who's counting? ) in my bulls-eye spot, the arse. Surprisingly, that's about it.
I'm free.
And it all began with a too unusual conversation with Harry Potter.
First, Harry asked me about you. Three days after admitting he likes me, and he's already prying like a lover. Tsk tsk.
Then, Lavender suddenly sat on my lap while we were "conversing about the theory of the world as a sphere".
Silly and impossible as it might sound, that's all I could think of.
I said, Lavender, I cannot see Harry with your two big things blocking the way.
She smiled. I was reminded of my dentist, Dr. Spoons. Good gravy, he would die in his sleep screaming.
Lavender stroked my chest and almost went downwards.
" Tell me you love me. "
No.
" Then we'll be sitting here all day, won't we, Potter? "
How dare she!
So I got a little mad. 'Don't call him that. You have no respect.'
She slapped my arm. Hard. If I could only wring her neck, I would have done it.
" Then say, ' I love you, Lavender.' "
Lavender's mad, and I was glad.
But it didn't leave me much choice. Father was just upstairs.
No complain, no whip, he once said. Apparently, I wasn't so confident with my line anymore.
The trauma got better of me. I muttered, without thinking, Fine. I love you, Harry…oh bloody hell!
Lavender screamed, " What?!! "
Harry was smiling. " What?! "
I didn't know exactly what to do, so I joined the bandwagon. " What? "
" You're a fucking chancer! " Lavender yelled.
So much for the speech I prepared. Oh, and watch your mouth, young lady!
Harry turned spiteful. "You're damned right he is! "
Father, bothered by what he thought were cats that got loose, barged in the living room with, much to my chagrin, a large chunk of plywood.
And the rest, my friend, is history.
Now, if you would excuse me, I have to soak my raw skin in salty water.
December 23
Father was still mad at me, so I really had no choice but to keep quiet the whole of the time.
But, finally, during supper, he gruffly asked, " Who is he? "
It seemed vague. Who is what?
" The lad. "
He did not want to be precise. It probably disgusted him, and I probably disgusted him, too, but I did not have the courage to say so.
No one in particular, I said.
" It can't be no one. How else would you have known that you are…like you are now? "
Stuck. Another flawless execution.
" It's Harry, isn't it? I always thought you felt something for that boy. It never occurred to me that it will be…that kind of feeling, though. Shame. "
And with that killer of a statement he left the room.
Good gravy. Was I that obvious?
So maybe I liked him. A little bit.
December 24
Harry invited me to go to the Christmas ball with him tomorrow.
No, really. With everyone in town hearing it, in fact. Shouted across the meeting room, " Draco, would you be my date for the ball? "
Good gracious. He was lucky father found his ways admirable. " That's a courageous young beast you have there. "
I don't know what he means by "beast" though.
The lads smiled at each other and nudged at Harry. And the others, well, I don't want to know what they were thinking.
What was funny about it, actually, was that, it's so straightforward and honest. Not even a hint of malice or lust. He's not looking for anything after the ball, if you know what I mean.
That's what I want love to be, remember?
Not that I'm saying that it is "love". No.
I think I like him. A larger bit.
Well, I suppose there is nothing else I could do but to dress up real nice for tomorrow, am I right, Benjamin?
Of course I am. I always am.
And, no, Draco, he will not show up in a kirtle.
A/N: Yey! Yey! My writer's block is cured!
Anyways, thank you, again, and this time, before you go click that button ( I hope you do click it ), please tell me what you want to happen next. Just so you know, this will be a smut-free publication, because I owe it all to The Man Upstairs.
No, not Mr. Johnson. You have been watching too many "Whose Line Is It Anyway? " shows.
However, I did not say that there will not be some above-waistline…show of affection.
Ehehehe…you know what I mean.
Got closets?