Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns "Harry Potter". I only own the plot.

Title: The Growing Pains of Draco Malfoy: Age 16

Summary: A year in the life of Draco Malfoy, age 16, told through his diary. His trials, his tribulations, the funny feeling he gets in his stomach when he sees a certain Weasley. Is it an ulcer? Perhaps love? How will he deal with this, not to mention his parents new love child?

Rating: PG-13 for language and thematic events, i.e. Drunk!Harry and Slutty!Blaise.

Author: Punk up the Volume

A/N: YAY! Updated! Sorry about the wait. First I had finals, which sucked, though I did well. Then, I wrote this whole chapter twice before and my computer deleted it. Through many trials and tribulations, I managed to upload. Please, review, it means a lot to me. Thanks also to all of my reviewers so far:

carameLisSa: Thanks, the whole name thing came as a shock to me as well.

Vanyaria Darkshadow: Thanks for another brilliant review! Glad you like it.

Lisa: I know, I know, I am a pioneer in the usage of her real name. I will be in history books one day. LOL.

Pherhyandoiel: Yes, yes, these authors really ARE crazy, aren't they?

HealerAriel: Yes, Draco breaks my heart as well. He is such a prat.

Khepri: I like Blaise too. I've been trying to put her/him in more of my stories lately. Boy!Blaise makes a chapter long appearence in one of my other stories, "Little Children".

SlytherinWarrior13: Thanks for the compliment!

Mizuhi Sakura: Yes, I am a dork. It took you this long to notice?

Galenahaiel: Thanks. Don't worry, Draco's creative poems make a drastic return.

stefengirl: Randomness is my middle name! Thanks for the compliments!

Luna Gypsy: Thanks, I think Draco acts like a complete jerk. I like him like that.

HerRoyalInsaneness: I can't wait for more either!

Flamyrre: Thanks, I try to write well. Some advice? Try to reinvent characters. I've seen Draco as a jerk before, but not so...feminine. Yes, that's the word, feminine. If I think of any other advice, I'll report it.

Chaney: Yes, he really is confused. Artistic too. I like Crabbe as a beatnik. I think it suits him.

Friday October 18th

Tried to write another poem today, but the inspiration just would not come. Perhaps I need something inspire me? A torrid love affair maybe? Perhaps I should give Blaise a ring. She would definately help me out in that department.

Saw Ginny with Dean Thomas again. It's disgusting the way she acts. I don't need her. She would just ruin my reputation.

Saturday October 19th

Tried to drown my sorry by having a wonderful snog with Blaise. It didn't do much for my mood though. She got lipstick all over my teeth. They no longer shine like stars in the milky way.

Sunday October 20th

Quidditch game next Saturday. It's our match against Ravenclaw. Should be easy. After all, we beat Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw is just a rung above them! Ha! Ha!

Monday October 21st

This is horrible! Wretched! Unthinkable! My father has made a mockery of our family! I think I am going to faint!

Tuesday October 22nd

I am bit more calmed down this morning, but still in shock and sick to my stomach. Snape excused me from all my classes because family is having a crisis. I can't believe the nerve of my father, having a mental breakdown, right in the middle of a pub! Honestly, he could at least have the decency to do it in the privacy of our own home.

I don't know much, but apparently from what I hear, father was at the Leaky Cauldron with some of his...uh..."associates". Then some wizard reading the Daily Profit made an announcement that at least thirty of Voldemort's followers had been arrested during some sort of innitiation and had all been arrested. That's when the Lunatic went crazy and started flipping tables and breaking glasses! They called in the crew from St. Mungos and carted him off to be "evaluated".

Honestly! I suspect he'll be away for quite awhile. Finally somebody beside me realizes what a lunatic he really is. I only wish the papers hadn't made such a bloody big deal about it! I am sure to be the laughing stock of the school!

Wednesday October 23nd

Lucked out on missing another day. Told Snape I was having horrible chest pains and couldn't breathe anytime I heard the words "father" or "crazy". Silly sod believed me! Ha! Ha!

Next time I see the Lunatic, I really must thank him. He's gotten me out of Muggle Studies two days in a row.

Thursday October 24th

Regretably, I had to make my return to classes today and it was less than a joyous occasion. Everyime I passed the famous Harry Potter during Potions and Herbology, he keptasking "Do the crazies run in your family?" and smirking at me. I merely smiled and "accidentally" dropped a bottle full of noxious smell liquid onto his shoe.

Recieved an owl from Mum. She is distraught that she is nearly five months pregnant and has had her husband torn away from her. Who will hold her hair back when she has morning sickness? Even though I am very happy that the Lunatic is finally get the pyschiatric attention he needs, my mother's state of near abandonment is quite heartbreaking. Imagine a story like that in one of those trashy tabloid magazines! It could bring a tear to your eye!

Friday October 25th

Oh, what rotten luck! Dumbledore has just announced a Halloween ball! Honestly, where am I going to find a date with six days notice? There's Pansy of course, but at the Yule Ball fourth year, she wouldn't let go of my wrist all night. I had to knock her into the punch bowl to get her off of me. Blaise is out of the question. She's decided to take Terry Boot. What am I going to do?

I now know what it is like to be desperate.

Saturday October 26th

Why has no girl attempted to ask me to the Halloween ball yet? Are they intimidated by my good looks? My stunningly white teeth? My flawless...well, almost flawless skin? Perhaps my charm and wit? My boyish sense of humor? The possibilities are endless! Hopefully one of them will become a bit less shy and ask me to the ball!

Are they waiting for me to make the first move?

Sunday October 27th

Still no luck! I cannot go with Pansy, I refuse! She is disgusting and gross. Why yesterday, I saw her picking her teeth in the middle of the dining hall and look ata piece ofcabbage she foundlonger than necessary. She will hang all over me all night. It would be a miserable experience. Perhaps Millicent Bulstrode can be convinced to come with me.

I will make the first move. I will have to.

Monday October 28th

I am lying in bed, nursing a horribly bruised groin area. I may never recover!

Later: Damn that Millicent Bulstrode! This is all her fault! Why did I have to ask her to go to the ball with me? Why did I have to make the first move? Now I will never recover in time for the ball.

All I did was go up to Millicent, ask her if she wanted to go to the ball with me, and stuck my hand up her shirt a bit. Goyle told me she liked that sort of thing! I certainly don't think that it constitutes a kick to the groin. Damn Millicent and her strong legs.

Much Later: Snape came in a bit ago to tell me to put an icepack on "it" and stop whining. I complained that it was a serious injury and should be looked at by a professional. He just sort of chuckled and said he would take a look at it. I jumped out of bed and ran to class. What a fucking weirdo!

Tuesday October 29th

I must be desperate! Today I considered asking Ginny Weasley to the ball! I must be going insane. Think of my reputation! Think of the hordes of girls waiting until the last minute to ask me! It was a stupid idea.

Later: Saw Ginny in the potions classroom snogging her brains out with Justin Finch-Fletchly. Honestly, that girl must change boyfriends every other week! Well, who needs her? Who needs a little tramp? Who needs Ginny? Who needs love? Who needs all that agravation?

Even Later: I do! My Ginny! Oh, my Ginny, I need you!

Midnight: Inspiration has struck me in the dead of night. I have written a genius poem about my love for Ginny. It is inspired, truly magical. It is entitled "My Ginny".

My Ginny

Oh, my Ginny!
My Ginny!
When I see you
I get this feeling in my stomach
Like I am going to throw up
Or something like that.
Crabbe said it was love.
I thought it was an ulcer
Or maybe acid reflux.
I hope it's love because
I heard acid reflux is really bad for you.
So I think I love you
Even though you act a little
slutty sometimes.
My Ginny!
Oh, my Ginny!

It is a masterpiece! Maybe one day I will have a whole book filled with my poems. One can only hope. Perhaps I will give Ginny the poem. She would love it. Who wouldn't?

Wednesday October 30th

Dead horrible day. Can't believe I made it all the way through.

First off, I barely made it to Muggle Studies. I was so excited to give Ginny her poem that I could barely contain myself. Halfway through the period, I poked in the side and slipped the paper into her hand. She kind of smiled when I touched her hand and then stared at the writing for about ten seconds before the smile evaporated and her lip started to wobble a bit.

"You want to throw up when you see me?" she questioned, her voice becoming a bit squeaky.

"Well, no...I mean, well, that's not what I meant!"

"I know what you meant!" she screamed, ripping up the paper and throwing the scraps in my face. "I know exactly what you meant you philistine! You cretin! You...cheesehead!"

Well, then the whole bloody class turned to look at the debacle as Ginny ran out of the classroom, yelling obscenities at me. Then Ms. Cornelius started yelling her head off me, screaming, "What did you do to her Malfoy!"

I tried to explain that I didn't do anything but express my love, but I could barely get a sentence out before she yelled, "McGonagall's!"

"What?"

"McGonagall's! Now! Right now!"

So I trudged up to the old bat's office and had to sit there for an hour trying to explain that I had in no way, shape, or form hurt Ginny, nor had I purposely emotionally scarred her. McGonagall wasn't buying that all I had done was give her a poem. So she made me go through what had happened fourteen times, including the mean names Ginny had yelled at me, and she also made me recite the poem. It was dead embarressing. Especially when she started sniggering around the end. What would she know about love? Probably hasn't even been in love since the crusades.

Ha!

So then she asked why exactly Ginny Weasley was in the third floor girl's bathroom, crying her eyes out. I told her that it was probably because the second floor bathroom was full. Ha! McGonagall didn't find it funny and told me to go back to the Slytherin common room and think about what I had done. It was better than going to the end of Potions class in my opinion.

Decided to stop by the girl's bathroom on my way back down to the common room to see if Ginny was indeed in there. I walked in and the only other person in there was a pair of legs poking out from underneath the middle stall. Sobs were coming from the same direction, so I figured it had to be Ginny.

"Ginny?" I asked. "Are you okay?"

The sobbing stopped. "Draco? Is that you?" Sniffle. Sniffle.

"Yeah," I answered, unsure of what else to say.

"I'm so glad you're here! Come over here!" Her voice was chipper. Perhaps she has bipolar disorder. I think that's what my mum has.

So I waltzed over to the stall checked my hair in the mirror, just to make sure I looked dashing. That's when she pulled the stall door open and started assaulting me with about ten rolls of toilet paper.

"You stupid, stupid prat!" she yelled, pummeling my chest with her little fists. "Get the bloody hell out of here!"

So I ran out and didn't look back.

Then, that night at dinner, I got a tearstained letter from Mum. She complained and complained for four paragraphs about how bad she's got it. How her husband is being imprisoned in a looney bin when she's about to give birth. How dramatic! She still has four months left to go! Honestly she has three house elves to fufill her every wish. If only I was so lucky. I have professors out to get me and a girl who glares at me everytime I see her in the hallway.

Not only that, Mum seemed most upset that the baby seems to be a boy. I could see that. I mean, she already has one perfect, darling boy. You can only go downhill from perfection, right?

What am I going to do about the ball tommorrow? I don't have a date! I shall become a social outcast. It is a lowly fate.

Love just isn't worth it.

Thursday October 31st

Morning: I don't think I will be able to get up. The shame is far too great; it is weighing me down so that I cannot move.

Mid-morning: Snape barged in demanded that I stop wallowing in my own filth and get to class. That man is awfully pushy. Oh, well. I suppose I might as well see my loyal friends once more before I become one of the most pitious of creatures: an unpopular person.

My only comfort is the thought of no classes tomorrow. Dumbledore has given us the day off due to the ball. I will crawl into bed after the last class of the day and not come out until Monday morning. If I am brave enough to come out at all.

Afternoon: My life is unruined! Praise the Lord! Today at lunch, Blaise had a horrible row with Terry Boot and threw her Pumpkin Juice all over him. Then she ran out of the Great Hall, crying. I followed her down to the common room and asked her if she wanted to go to the ball with me. She agreed and then sobbed into my chest for twenty minutes. Honestly, there must be something in the water lately. All these girls sobbing all over the place. For cripes sake!

3:00 a.m.: I cannot sleep! My head is in a whirl! The events of the night keep racing through my mind! I must record them for posterity. One day I might become an old fogey and forget all that has happened.

Theballwas going very nicely at first, even though Blaise looked a fright. He hair was all tousledand her eyes were red and puffy. I was slightly ashamed to be seen with her,but it wasbetter than being alone. Well, it was better than being aloneuntilBlaise saw Terry Boot make his entrance with Ginny Weasley! Her head practically exploded! Justin Finch-Fletchly didn't seem too happy either. He was gripping his cup so hard that the punch spilled out. Blaise pulled me onto the dance floor and made me dance until some Hufflepuff knocked me into the punch table and I got a charlie horse. It was dead painful. I stood by while she disapeared into the crowd.

Went to the bathroom and came back to see that Blaise and Terry Boot had reunited under the punch table and were snogging their brains out. I was dead embaressed and decided not to say anything. So I stood by myself for a few minutes, watching out for Pansy to make sure that she did not try to get me to dance.

Then, I saw poor Ginny Weasley, also abandoned by her date, standing on the opposite wall, being stalked by Harry Potter. When she moved, he moved. When someone asked her to dance, he would push them away. Obviously, Potter had had a few too many drinks from the punch bowl. It was when he grabbed Ginny's arm and pulled her so hard she was rammed into the wall with a grimace that I felt my legs start to move. He was all over her, his face next to hers, laughing for no reason at all.

"Dance with me." I yelled above the music as I grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her towards the crowd. She hadn't seen me and looked surprised, yet grateful. But then she remembered yesterday and the smile turned to a frown, yet she didn't resist.

"Now, 'old on der, Maaaalfoy." Potter slurred, jerking his hand around like he was ready to fight. He was spilling his cup all over the floor but didn't seem to care. "Ginny ain't not going nowhere wit you."

Ginny gave me an embarressed look, slipped out of my grasp and put herhands tenderly on Harry's shoulders. "Now, Harry, listen to me. Listen carefully. I'm going with Draco now. I'll be back. Sober up a bit, eh?"

"Right, ok." Harry nodded and saluted, grinning like an idiot. Ginny nodded in return and then took my hand again. I could tell she was still furious with me, but she seemed to be relieved that she was't with Harry anymore. I didn't really care. The only thing I could focus on was her hands on my shoulders as a slow song started to play. The rest of my upper body had gone numb.

At the beginning of the ball, a truly horrid punk band had been playing. It had been composed of two Ravenclaws and Gryffindor with ripped up clothes and words you couldn't really make out. The had made it through the first set alright, but then they started a song called, "Fuck the Fucking World You Fucker". Snape and Hagrid had to drag them off stage before a riot broke out. Snape had dug up a muggle stereo and had magnified the sound.

Ginny frowned as the song started to end. "Thankyou." she yelled over the roar of the crowd.

"For what?" I questioned.

"For...helping me out. With Harry, I mean. He's just been so...well, lately. Nevermind. It's not important."

Jesus, when did I become the good guy? Why couldn't I just stay at my previous position of smoldering hot bad boy and resident sex good. Being the good is hardly as good.

"You should have read the whole poem." I commented after a minute of silence.

"What?" The frown deepened.

"You should have finished reading my poem. Remember? Yesterday? You called me a philistine and a cheesehead and threw it in my face?"

"Oh." Ginny smiled. "That poem."

"You should have finished it." I said once again.

"Why?" she snarled. "I pretty much got the message from the first three lines."

"It got better," I shrugged. "A lot better. I'm pretty sure it's not an ulcer."

"What is it about me that makes you feel sick to your stomach when you see me?"

"It's...um..."

I'm not sure whether what happened next was a good thing or a bad thing. After all, it did save me from having to answer that question, but at an embarressing price. "DRACO!" Pansy yelled from the spot on the stage she had crawled to. Her dress what torn, her robes disheveled, and her eyes bloodshot. Obviously, she had been having a good ol' time with Potter at the refreshment table.

"DRACO!" she called again as the crowd started to die down and they turned to look at her. "DRACO! Where are you! I love you, Draco. You are my one true love! And...I wanna sing you a song. I wrote it just for you, Draco!"

"Oh, Jesus." I muttered as she started singing at the top of her lungs. Luckily, Hagrid had managed to grab her round the waist and haul her off the stage toward the exit. "I love you Draco!" she called as they disappeared out the door. The next shout heard was Snape's from the other side of the room. He was holding the punch bowl in the air and looked dead mad.

"Whoever has tampered with the drinks will be severely punished! Mark my words! Severely punished!"

Slowly but surely, the crowd started to regain it's livliness and the music started up again.

It was Ginny who started to laugh first. "I'm...sorry..." she muttered through her giggles.

"It's okay." I started to shake my head, feeling a laugh rising in my throat. Soon, we were both standing in the middle of the dance floor, laughing our heads off. People around us started to give us funny looks and moved away.

"It's really not funny." she said after a moment, still giggling. "But..."

Then I kissed her.