Couple: Lucius/Lucius (There were two cards. Don't ask. Just believe me that it's better than Dobby.)

Plot Device: Leather Pants

Personality: Hideous-nerd!Snape

I am not sulking, because Malfoys do not sulk. They don't brood, they don't ponder, and most of all they do not sulk. I've tried to tell my son Draco this multiple times, but he refuses to learn. Just makes some snide comment about "at least I get to screw Harry and you're still pining over Snape so hah!" Have I mentioned how childish my son is? And crude. Very crude, dear Draco.

So here I am. We've concluded that I am indeed not sulking. I am not pining, either, for that matter. I am doing what all Malfoys except my incompetent son do best: hatching evil plots. I haven't come up with a way to incorporate these incredibly tight leather pants yet, but since I got the strangest urge to put them on at great personal hazard, be incorporated they must. When Draco saw the pants, he burst out laughing. That boy needs discipline- I'll talk to his mother about it. Then again, based on the sordid details of the love life he and that Potter boy share (details, might I add, that I had absolutely know desire to learn), he'd probably enjoy such things. Dear me, my son is a deviant nymphomaniac. I should have expected as much. He is, after all, related to me. Severus calls me kinky; I call myself creative.

Speaking of Severus, he is the reason I am spending my time plotting away, and is probably also the indirect cause of the leather pants. I really do think it wise not to delve too deeply into the issue of the pants; I might feel it necessary to question my judgement and sanity, otherwise. The pants in no way signify that I am feeling at all bereft by Severus's absence, because Malfoys, except for my son, do not pine. The pants may somehow reflect the sexual frustration I currently suffer, but no more.

Surprisingly enough, I do actually like Severus. Strictly on my own terms and when I receive some benefit, of course. Right now, however, he was mouldering uselessly away in the dungeons of Hogwarts, making endless potions if I know him. Which I do.

I admire Severus, really I do, but when it comes to potions, he has a tendency to become a hideous nerd. I am sure I don't understand his freakish obsession; while it is a very much Slytherin-influenced art, there ARE limits.

Anyhow. His absence is why I have been reduced to such degrading activities as self-pleasure. I could have had all manner of men in my bed, yes, but think of it my way- how would you like to be touched by some random deatheater? Really, I almost believe them more beast than man.

I'm glad Draco isn't here. I wouldn't be at all astonished if he turned out to be a voyeur as well as a sex-crazed little ferret. I did hear about that ferret incident, coincidentally. Strangely apt, if you ask me.

I'm glad these pants are lace-up at the front; otherwise, I'd never get my hand down there. As my rhythm builds, I begin to moan with gay abandon. Gay- how appropriate. I am firmly under the belief that homosexuality is very much a Malfoy trait. It must be the only one Draco pulls off successfully; that boy can be such a flaming queen sometimes.

As release comes, I cry out and fall limp. Wonderful, I'm a sticky mess. Knowing my luck, Draco will come in and laugh at my pain. Ah, right on cue. Sometimes I am proud of my son.

I hope Severus returns soon. My pride can only take so much, and I don't think a repeat performance comes within the boundaries. And I miss him, too. Not that I'd ever admit it. Malfoys don't do things like that.