Draco Malfoy

"There must be thousands of secret rooms and chambers in this beautiful mansion…" the high-pitched replica of Pansy Parkinson rang in my ear.

I shifted uneasily in my seat, knowing exactly what she wanted and craved. Her beady, anxious sky blue eyes gave it all away as she winked. "You know what I mean, gorgeous Blondie Bear?" she purred in that soft, warm, ice-melting way that most guys live and die for.

The crushing girl smiled slyly in an awkward and up-to-something way, her mind no doubt filling with disturbing thoughts and images that only I knew would never ever occur between the two of us. It wouldn't matter if she happened to be a stunning, cover-girl magazine model resembling a Barbie doll, considering I didn't bend that way. No matter how she looked, I'd always have to hurt her feeling by denying the offer. (Which, by the way, in this case didn't bother me too much. She seemed far from my type). Any other girl, if I were straight, would probably be told yes. "You DO know what I mean, right?" she whispered again, obviously thinking I didn't because of the fact I hadn't yet responded.

I fidgeted around shyly in my seat, feeling light-headed and panicked as I always did in these situations. "I really don't think my parents would approve," I whispered to her nervously. "You aren't supposed to leave a dinner party anyway…"

I could feel my face burning red with embarrassment and discomfort, and my hands were beginning to sweat like mad. This was so bloody awkward. It must have all been a reaction to her wicked smile and hot, minty-fresh breath, which hung all around my face and in my ears from all the dirty whispering she didn't want adults to hear. "Have you ever asked them if you could or if they minded? You're what, almost seventeen? They probably would be thrilled for you to get out there and have some fun. My parents gave me 'The Talk'. I'd say if yours haven't already and sat down with you for that talk, you should bring it to them. Force them to talk about it and--"

I shot her an angry, dark stare the whole time and she finally received the message to shut up. "Okay, scratch asking your parents," she shrugged. "What about after the dinner party? We could do it secretly in on of your chambers—there are probably rooms in this place that they don't know about, right? We'd sneak in later tonight after our parents think we're in bed and no one would ever know! Or we could do it tomorrow if tonight's not good. C'mon—aren't you sick and tired of being a virgin? I know I am!"

I nearly gagged on my tea and then raised an eyebrow when she turned away for a moment to make sure out parents were still deep in conversation. Her? Not a virgin? Bollix that! I tried not to snort when she returned her gaze to me. This babe certainly in every way failed the virgin test. She was absolutely lying. Any real virgin wouldn't carry her hunger…her desire and passion.

No, a true virgin would be a little nervous, and wouldn't pester anyone into it. They'd wait for just the right person to release their virginity. And I know because I've been through the process twice. First with a girl, which led me to an important epiphany—I didn't feel the love and passion that came with being with girls. It felt wrong, and I couldn't get into it.

I always knew that girls didn't turn me on, no matter what they did, but I felt scared to face it. I wanted to be normal, and decided if I did it with one, maybe my eyes would open and my wish would come true.

My eyes DID open, but not to girls. After that horrible night with a girl, I realized girls really didn't attract me—boys did. And that fact wouldn't change. So I waited for my man, a much more challenging mission, but when I found him, it all felt right. Blaise Zabini was exactly like me: Slytherin, cold-hearted, rich, and gay. He even lived near me. Only a short forest separated our mansions so we could visit any time.

I rode over to his place on either my broomstick or my wiz four-wheeler 069, and he rode over to my place either by his broom or one of his beautifully bred animals back at the Zabini Riding Stables. (But to be more specific, he usually only rode beautiful M.S., his baby). Still, even with his strange obsessions, I loved him. Blaise Zabini was all I wanted and everything I needed. I felt happy with him—he was my baby, and since M.S. didn't really count, I was his too.

"No thank you," I whispered some time later after I finished all the food on my plate.

Gitta had already forgotten our discussion. "What?" she questioned softly.

"Your offer," I replied. "No thank you. My parents have this creepy way of knowing everything I do. They might have hidden cameras in every room for all I know—even in the secret chambers. So I don't want to take the offer. Besides, you're hot and everything, but…well I…I don't think I'm quite ready to…you know…do it. This is all me, it's not you." I explained.

Ooh…I'm convincing, aren't I? Bet you didn't expect me to successfully pull off the inexperienced loser-straight-guy act, eh? Well, I've had tons of practice…

"It's okay, sweetie—I've never done this before either and--" I cut her off.

"Gitta, please, I'm not into this. Let's drop it okay? Before my parents hear? They have hearing like cats and dogs do. How about we talk about Quidditch or school—just something else, please?" I whined, trying not to beg, although that sounded an awful lot like I was begging.

It didn't even help. She shook her head, blonde curls bouncing up and down as she did so, another moment most guys would cherish. "Please, Drakie? You're so hot; I gotta have this with you. Please? I'll protect myself, I promise!"

I shook my head and sighed hopelessly. This is why I hate attending my father's dinner parties—the families that visit us for dinner and business are always stuck up, rich, and evil. And they always have boy-crazy daughters that simply can't resist me and my body. They look at me once and can't get enough, which is the reason they always request to sit by me throughout the entire party. Once they've got me in their reach, they begin to cling to me and most of them DO ask for—YOU KNOW. The word I don't ever want to do with a girl again. Basically, dinner parties are a gay guy's worst nightmare and they are so embarrassing and uncomfortable to sit through.

I've even had two daughters fight over me before. Talk about annoying—I ended up with such a headache that night—oh, my gosh, it's not even funny…the memories still sting…

At least at Hogwarts, practically everyone knows I don't fancy girls and that I have a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. Blaise and I figured out our feelings for each other in the middle of 5th year, and have been dating since, so by now, the only people who don't know are first years. And they usually find out by the time they become second years.

But dinner parties are held for families with children attending other schools like Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, or Nolan Academy, so the girls have no idea what my sexual orientation is. They always assume I'm straight. My parents should really just tell them up front that they have a gay son, because that would make matters so much easier.

I asked them a long time ago if they would, but both of them rejected it and said no. Mother said it would embarrass her for the rest of her life knowing that not just Hogwarts knew about it, and Father believes that the whole idea of girls flirting with me at dinner, making me uncomfortable and ashamed is an excellent way to punish me.

He still hates the fact I'm gay because it means I can no longer carry on the Malfoy name. Ever since this all came out, he's treated me nastier than he used to, stopped buying things for me and won't even allow Blaise in the manor when he's around, but that's okay because the Zabini's help me out every time I need it.

They have handled Blaise's whole problem calmly and respectfully, so I can run to them all the time and know they'll talk to me about anything I want and help me in any way I need. They're like the family I never had.

Anyways, today the annoying, flirting girl went by the name of Gitta Rosenburg, who attended Durmstrang, a soon-to-be seventh year, just like me. She seriously never gave up on what she wanted. "I bet you look hot naked…" she purred into my ear, shivering at the thought as she looked me up and down and settling her eyes on a low place.

I gagged, re-arranging my position again as my stomach tightened. I just knew I was on the verge of barfing. At least I could do it on her…I don't know, though…knowing Gitta, she'd probably like it. "I bet your parent's don't know you're a sick and perverted psycho!" I retorted under my breath.

She simply shrugged at this. "I bet they don't."

I sucked in a deep, painful sounding breath and clenched my fists under the table. There were only a few remaining minutes until dessert would be served, but after that, we'd all move into the parlor to hit all the points not already discussed. And most families remained in the parlor until ten or eleven o'clock at night. Aye, aye, aye…this is going to be a long night…

"Come, on, baby…"Gitta whined. "Don't you want just a little taste of me? A kiss?"

"No," I growled.

Couldn't she tell I didn't want this? Was she that blind to her surroundings? "Come on…just a little touch…you know you want it…" she continued, her voice laced with sugar-sweetness and passion.

"NO!" I repeated, my voice giving up and finally releasing my agitation and anger.

Gitta giggled, rocking back and forth in her seat, completely delighted. "Ooh…you're so cute when you're angry, baby!" she squealed through her giggles.

I scowled, about to stand up and shout 'I'm Gay!' and then run up to my room, lock the door, jump out my window and run to Blaise's house for a surprise visit. He's not expecting me tonight because I informed him of the dread party, so I'm sure he'd love it if it turned out I could visit him.

Luckily, Gitta had a sweet tooth and shut up as soon as Anastasia, one of the house elves, began passing out desserts. "Ooh…dessert!" she shrieked, grabbing up her fork and taking a big chocolaty bite.

'Halelujah!' I thought, relieved that my girl problems had come to a temporary halt.

Of course, now that the Gitta problem disappeared momentarily, another one popped up, just to my luck. Seriously—everyone's punishing me because of the fact I'm not straight! I didn't even receive dessert. When Anastasia came around to my position, dessert was not what she gave me. Her huge, bulgy eyes popped out and her ears seemed larger than normal.

"Mr. Malfoy," she stuttered, her tone more serious than normal for some reason. "Anastasia has a—a wiz phone call waiting for Mr. Malfoy in the—the kitchen."

Muhahahaha!

Another Cliffy (Dramatic change from chapter one, though, eh?)

A/N: Think you know who's on the phone? Still majorly confused? Stay tuned! I know I've not cleared everything up yet, but it's only the second chappie, and I don't plan to rush the story up to clear things up quickly. Each chapter will give you a better understanding of the situation, since this is sort of a mystery fic. Trust me, you'll understand everything soon enough—until then use your imagination on what you think will happen…thanx! And Please review to let me know what you think.