Its very weird you know. Sitting here in the pitch-black writing in a
diary. I'm glad my curtains around my bed are so thick; otherwise I'm sure
I would of woken one of these ugly brutes from their beauty sleep.
Huh.
This is such a muggle thing to do. Write a pathetic little diary because
you have no one to talk to.
The truth is, I don't have anyone to talk to. It's all right to be adored
now and then by silly little girls such as Pansy Parkinson, to have Crabbe
and Goyle wander around after me like I am there king. but I wouldn't ever
tell them what I really feel.
I am actually very pathetic and lonely. (No way would I ever admit that to
anybody, a Malfoy, pathetic?) And I do have a lot of talking to do.
First off, I hate my father. He is a selfish, conniving, brutish, bastard
and I would love to see someone stick something through him. Maybe a blunt
knife.much more painful. Or a grapefruit spoon. Ever since I was born my
father has been bullying me around. He's hit me before, until he realised I
bruise easily and going anywhere with great big welts across your face, was
not a good idea. He started on verbally abusing me around the age of four;
he treats my mother like dirt too. He flirts with other women and puts my
mother down no matter where we are. In front of his friends he only calls
her 'that stupid wench.' I love my mother.
That's another thing I would NEVER mention to anyone. "Ooh Draco! Mummy's
boy!"
That would be Weasley. I guess he's not that bad, but a mans got to keep up
his appearances you know? My father hates the Weasly's and it would be more
than strange if I tried to be his mate.
The hate I have for Harry Potter is totally different. It's not really hate
I guess. I just can't control myself around him. I find myself in the
middle of potions class staring at him, wondering what it would be like to
touch his hair, or stroke his chin, and in a way that makes me really
angry. One because I can't actually do that to him and two, because its
just not right! I mean. I'm no poof. Not like that bloody watzizface,
Lockhart. I like girls! The way they move, their bodies, the little
expressions on their faces. Granger's a good example. She'd be bloody
gorgeous if she did something with herself, but everything I tend to see in
girls, I see in Potter. Like the way he laughs when Weasly makes a joke, or
the worried expression he gets when he's concentrating. (He bites his lower
lip on the corner if he's really stuck.) And sometimes I dream about him.
That's the worst. Nothing dirty actually. But just...oh I don't know,
normal. As if I was dreaming about an alternate reality where everything is
perfect, my family is normal and we are mates. Its sappy and stupid and so
Nancy-boy-like it makes me want to be physically sick. Sometimes I fell
like beating myself up. It's not right, its disgusting and I should not be
thinking these kind of perverted things.
I wonder if he dreams of me?
-Fin-
I wonder if he dreams of me?
-Fin-
