WARNING: We all know Draco isn't exactly famous for his politeness, but for some, this letter might be just a bit too rude for your delicate ears. If you would rather avoid it, email me at soapy_bubbles_286@hotmail.com for the BEEP! version. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Author's Note: Yeah, Quintessential Bliss has changed her name to Phantasmagoria. Naughty girl *grins*. Anyway, great work, Pilgrim! I was very impressed by that previous letter. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for our favourite little Slytherin …

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3 January 1996

Slytherin Dormitory

11:41 PM

To the Boy Who Effed,

That's it. That is it! I've had enough of your idiotic airs and your retarded "Oh, I'm Potter, the hero who defeated You-Know-Who; everybody worship my balls right now" crap. I am just about to start losing my temper and chuck expensive and breakable stuff around RIGHT NOW.   

What little noble piece of shit are you, hurling accusations and threats at me like the tight-arsed dickhead you are? You can bloody well take your gay little scar and shove it up someone's arse, notably Granger's. And I don't care for your bullshitting about –

4 January 1996

Quidditch Change rooms

9:16 AM

… Okay, I didn't lose my temper. I didn't. Scratch whatever I wrote before, that was just the incoherent ramblings of a guy who's had too much to drink. Whatever you say, Pothead, I'm not going to let you piss me off (not that you succeeded, arsehole), and I am going to insult you in a calm and rational manner. I wasn't thinking straight last night; wasn't in the best of moods. Father owled about – never mind; it's none of your effing business. 

Anyway, about the frilly underwear thing … that was just a stupid gift from an ex. Are you telling me that you don't have anything of that sort lying around your dormitory? Say anything to anyone, and I'll hex your legs off. I'm going to owl Father about the lack of privacy around here, and that despicable house-elf won't have any ears left after I'm finished with it. And personally, I don't give an eff about you 'small fortune'. How did your parents earn it? Prostitution? And about that 'kicking Slytherin's arse' business: yeah, dream on, Potter. At least I didn't get chosen for the team just because I have a scar on my forehead!     

So … this is interesting; Granger's not in love with you? But how can that be? It was all over the press last year, if I remember correctly. Oooh … how sad … you were rejected. And please keep your beak out of Ginny and my business, thank you very effing much. Do you think I'm just fooling with her? I shouldn't even be telling you this, but Ginny is the only one I have right now, the only person who understands me. (Crabbe and Goyle don't exactly make best buddies.) Do you think I get it easy?

I know what you Gryffindors say about me when we're out of earshot. "Filthy Slytherin", "All evil Death Eaters," "little twits" … you'd like that now, would you? You'd like to be shunned by all the non-Slytherins, would you? To be shut up in Malfoy Manor during the holidays trying to live up to the expectations to my old man? Why did you think I drank last night? BECAUSE MY FUCKING FATHER ORDERED ME TO GET THE DARK MARK!

I shouldn't have said that, I think I got a bit overemotional. I'm not allowed that, you know. It's always "Malfoys don't cry when they are caned, Draco, even if they don't deserve it," and "You have to act like a man, son" and all that shit. But I don't think I'm allowed to tell that to anyone either. My whole life has been a lie.

If you show anyone this letter, Potter, I will kill myself. I really would. It feels so good to finally let it out, and I don't think I really care anymore. And you said I was evil. I am evil. All Malfoys are, it runs in the family, whether they like it all not. You've got it easy, Potter. I was born to serve a Dark Lord. You were born a hero. Think about it next time you laugh at me, man. Just think about it.

Draco

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A/N: Ooh, and Draco gets emotional …