Chapter 3: The diary

May 12th, 2005

Okay. Well, yesterday I get back from the last class of the day: Charms. I'm minding my own business, not insulting anybody for a change and just walking across the common room to get to our dorms (needed to do homework—badly—father is going to kill me if I don't get higher scores than Granger ) when someone thinks it's funny to throw a random curse at me. I was pretty mad that somebody just decided to use me as a common science-lab guinea pig, but I had other things to worry about, like my sudden blindness. I don't even know who cursed me (I have my suspicions) and what curse they used, but it wore off anyways.

What should happen to me when I'm making an ass of myself in the many corridors of Hogwarts? Venture to guess? Well, I'll tell you anyway: I stumble upon Potter, the guy that I've been lusting after for around…six or seven years.

Anybody who has been in this room and is now currently violating my privacy has seen my room, and therefore knows that I'm addicted to him and his perfect-ness. I want to pound him into the floor of the Potions classroom in the late hours of the night and ravish him like he's never been ravished before. Seriously. I don't even know when I found out, but somehow, my hate for him morphed into…love? I don't even know what to call it. I would say obsession. He's all I ever think about, every day and night, and I can't even concentrate in Potions to get a decent mark because he's always there and my mind goes fuzzy when I glance in his direction, let alone get to hear him talk in that sexy, deep voice of his.

Stop! Back to the blindness! Potter is there and he's making fun of me and then he gets all caring and sympathetic! The nerve of him! I feel like ripping his testicles off sometimes…

Now that I have calmed down a little, I will continue. I actually trip on a flipping suit of armor.

What would my father say? I'm such a disgrace to the name of Malfoy and I can't even act like a normal human being in front of the bloke that I like! He has no problem that I'm gay, my father that is, he just wants me to find happiness and love. He's been a changed man (pretty disturbing too) ever since they let him out of prison after the Golden Boy finally defeated Voldemort. Took him long enough! Sorry, I shouldn't be complaining, because I didn't even help in the war. See? I'm a useless bloody Slytherin that only cares for himself! I feel so misunderstood…I wish Potter was my friend…lover…

I should go now, I think I hear someone comi-

The confession ended here, as if Malfoy had disappeared just as Harry had come into the room.

As The Boy Who Was Scared read this last entry, he thought that he had seen everything. His enemy was in love with him. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, actually loved him.

Harry, being good and caring for most of his life, save for the whole wanting to decapitate Voldemort thing, which he did, was very unsettled to find this room, (a whole room goddammit!), devoted to him, but when he pondered the given information, it made more and more sense. His admirer had come out to the school last year, his 6th year, and it had been a "whole school witness" sort of event.

Flashback

Draco Malfoy is sitting at the Slytherin table surrounded by millions of fan-girls and admirers while he eats his supper. He is expressing his discomfort and annoyance by scowling at anyone who tries to approach him, and it works, save for one of the prettiest girls residing in Slytherin, Blaise Zabini. She is fawning over him, whispering sexy comments into his ear and fondling the front of his uniform.

The blonde's ears are steadily becoming pinker and pinker, but it is from aggravation rather than arousal. His grimace is becoming evident to almost everybody in the Great Hall, but that does not make the red-head stop her supposedly sexy procedures.

Irritated and annoyed beyond reason, Draco Malfoy grabs her by the front of her uniform and flings her across the table, toward Crabbe and Goyle. The hall grows silent and the grey-eyed wizard is left to glare at the occupants.

He is taking big, claming breaths and has his fists balled together at his sides.

"You ladies back off! Especially you, Blaise, I'm not attracted to you. I'm not interested. Hear me? I like boys. If any blokes want to fondle me, be my guest."

This is said very loud, the vibrations echoing off the enchanted ceiling and stone walls.

Many of the girls are heart-broken, but they can admit that they were waiting for this day to come. Malfoy was just too girly.

On the contrary, many of the boys have a new shine added to their eyes, and Seamus Finnegan ever goes as far as to grin and wink suggestively at the blonde and mouth 'How you doin'?', who looks surprised but smiles back while arching his eyebrow toward the Irishman.

End flashback

The raven-haired boy sighed. He didn't know how to process this new information. How could his enemy love him? It made no sense. But you've got to admit, said a sneaky voice in his head, he's got style and a really nice ass, one that would look fine in tight leather pa-

'ENOUGH!' said a slightly louder voice, but his resolve was quickly dissipating. He was not going to think about his arch-rival in that manner, first of all, because he was not out of the closet and second of all, because Ron and Hermione would kill him with magical bazookas.

Harry remembered that he had a time-lapse blank the day before, the day when Dra-Malfoy wrote that he was blind and stumbled upon him in a corridor. He didn't remember it.

"Why would I just forget something as funny as that?" said Harry aloud to the room.

Maybe the things you saw and heard were just too unbearable and you just needed to…forget?

That stupid, irritating voice was there again. Harry, trying to will it away, failed. It had a point. So, he used a Memory Charm on himself and he forgot! Those pictures he saw in Potions…They were probably glimpses of the things he saw and heard! He was never that great at Charms and it was just his luck to screw this one up.

The seeker decided to skim the diary for more useful information, but all he found were detailed fantasies of himself and Malfoy in the boys' Quidditch locker room and confessions of his love for Harry in the form of either poetry or love letters.

Just slightly sickened, the black-haired boy replaced the book under the pillow and exited the room quietly. He had some major thinking to do, and he needed to wash his hands.

Inside the room, hidden under the bed, Draco Malfoy lay and sighed in relief; he hadn't been caught. That was a very close call. He was completely mortified that Potter had read his personal thoughts out loud and that he had actually dared touched his "magazines". He had to dissemble the room now because Potter would probably try to show it to his friends in case they didn't believe him. He had a lot of work to do.