This is so bloody frustrating; I'm infatuated with the one thing I can't have. Infatuated with the one person who will never want me. Now you're thinking, I'm sure, this person sounds nice, charming, in short… a genius. Why on Earth shouldn't everyone just fall at his feet, should he not be able to get anyone he wants, get the object of his affection? Well now you would be right about the genius part, and the charming part (on some respects anyway), but you see I haven't been exactly "nice" to the apple of my eye, sometimes even down right cruel. Why you ask, well I'll get to that later, but first off I'm a nice Pureblood, Slytherin, seventh year boy, the "sex god of Hogwarts" I've been called, but in truth I've never had sex, no matter what Pansy pug-faced Parkinson tells you. I'm saving myself for that special someone, who when we kiss jolts of electricity go through our bodies, the person who will make me happy with just a smile, the one I run to and in turn runs to me when comfort is needed, the one I want to wake up next to every morning after making love to them the night before, and I'm hoping against all hope that the object of my affection is that special someone. Ha, but I kid myself, he could never love me, hell he doesn't even like me. What's that? Oh didn't I mention, I'm gay, the object of my infatuation is a guy and not just any guy, oh no, I can never just be normal and have a normal crush.

No! I, Draco Malfoy, just happen to have the biggest crush (boarding on love) on Harry Potter. Potter, I tell you! It couldn't be a normal guy like Seamus Finnigan or Terry Boot; no it has to be Harry Potter, saviour of the whole bloody world! Not to mention enemy of the Dark Lord, the master whom my idiot father so devotedly serves. Now my father maybe an idiot for serving a lunatic but he's quite kind and will support me (I hope) in my decision to fancy men over women.

I have told one person my preferences of blokes over birds, Blaise Zabini, my best friend. You see, I sort of kissed him when I was trying to figure myself out, he looked flabbergasted for a few minutes, then just shrugged and got over it. I knew he wouldn't tell Crabbe and Goyle, they probably wouldn't have understood even if he did. But think of what everyone else might do to me if they find out, Pansy will have a fit, my house will kill me, they'd like the idea of stringing me up by my balls I'd bet, the Dark Lord would more than likely try to use me to get at Potter, and contrary to popular belief, I don't, never have, never will, serve the psychopath. I only ever wanted to be like my father, not one of the Dark Lord's minions, I should have minions (oh that's right I do, their names are Crabbe and Goyle). Anyway, Harry, he would probably laugh in my face if I ever told him I was gay and fancied him. He would never, not in a million years reciprocate my feelings, hell would have to freeze over, it would take a blue moon for him to like me… on second thought, he wouldn't even like me then. Ok, so I'm not quite an optimist.

Now you know my problem, which is what's running through my head as I try to pay attention to what Granger is saying and add in my bit every now and again, as I am Head Boy.

I do hope we finish soon, I can't wait to go and bug Potter, any chance to be close to him.

Finally, Granger has shut her mouth and dismissed the prefects. Now I just have to follow her and the Weasel back to Potter's compartment. Could they walk any closer? Following them is taking forever, but if I get to see Harry, then….

Draco stood outside Harry's compartment waiting for the perfect time to make a spectacular entrance. Harry had his back turned towards the compartment door so Draco couldn't see his face. Granger and Weasley were talking to Harry but Draco couldn't hear what they were saying.

Draco decided he was bored and couldn't wait to see Harry any longer. He put on his Malfoy mask, and smirked as he pulled open the compartment door so hard it smashed against the buffer.

'Well, well, Potter, why so glum? Did your pet die or something,' Draco's smirk widened 'it can't have, as the Weasel's right here.'

'Sod off, Malfoy,' said Weasley, his temper starting to get him. 'I've had to listen to you mouth off enough today.'

Draco thought this was a bit of an exaggeration as Granger had done most of the talking in the prefects' carriage and he had just agreed and not really said anything. 'Well, Weasley that's just too bad isn't it? I rather like it in here. So I'm afraid you'll just have to deal with it.'

'What do you want, Malfoy?' asked Granger.

'I wanted to see what Potter and his merry band of losers, being you, were up to,' Draco said looking slightly bored. 'but it seems I'm disappointed as Potter has apparently lost the ability to speak.'

'Go away.' Harry finally spoke in a small voice that made Draco's eyes snap to him. 'Please. I'm not in the mood to fight with you.'

Draco was concerned that Harry sounded so weak and defeated, he was hurt that Harry wouldn't even turn around to look him in the eye, he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, to mask those emotions as they flitted across his face, nor the hint of longing at hearing Harry's voice after two months without it. To Draco it was like a drug. He didn't notice a certain bushy-haired Head Girl looking at him and trying to read those emotions.

'Malfoy are you deaf? Sod off!' Weasley growled.

Draco came to with a start. 'Fine, you lot are boring and not worth my time.' he said his mask sliding back into place, hiding his emotions, and glancing at Weasley and Granger after taking his eyes off Harry's back and sauntering out of the compartment and snapping it shut.

Draco made his way back towards the compartment he had placed his stuff in, still hurt that Harry hadn't looked at him once. He was also very confused at the fact that Harry had said "please" to him. At first he hadn't believed he'd heard right, but now he was certain, Harry had asked him, Draco Malfoy, to please go away.

Draco was still lost in thought when a voice called out, 'Draco, where are you going?' Draco then relised he had indeed walked right past his compartment and Blaise Zabini was now calling out to him.

'Damn, Potter.' Draco muttered backtracking and walking into the compartment behind Blaise.

'What about Potter?' Blaise questioned as Draco took the seat opposite him. 'And where have you been? Pansy's been in here five times already looking for you.'

Draco grimaced at Pansy's name; 'I've been messing around with the Golden Trio, insulting them and such.' replied Draco.

'Did Potter get the better of you again then?' asked Blaise.

'No!' said Draco defiantly; 'He didn't even look at me actually.' the hurt back on his face as his voice deflated a bit.

'Why Drake, you sound disappointed.' Blaise half-joked. When Draco didn't say anything he added, 'You are disappointed aren't you? You're disappointed that Potter didn't look at you, aren't you?' he pressed, still Draco didn't say anything, just put his head in his hands and moaned. 'Fine, I won't say anything else about it,' Blaise continued 'but just so you know, I don't care if you like Potter or not, makes no difference to me. You've always wanted to be his friend, even in first year, and you're always trying to compete against him too. So what does it matter if you like him?'

Draco looked up at Blaise, 'So you won't tell anyone of your… suspicions, because I never said I like Potter.' He said regaining some of his Malfoy composure.

'I won't tell. I kept your other secret, right? Oh and Draco,' Blaise added with a mischievous smirk.

'Hmm,' Draco answered having returned his head to his hands.

'You also never said you didn't.' And on that note Blaise picked up a book on Quidditch and began to read, leaving Draco to think about Harry for the rest of the train ride.

Draco got up and put on his school robes as the Hogwarts Express began to slow down and made sure his trunk was locked up before making his way off the train and onto the station platform. He began walking to the carriages when he accidentally bumped into someone, 'Sorry,' he muttered before realising who he'd bumped into. Draco nearly stopped when he reconised the messy black hair, emerald eyes, tan skin, and glasses, but forced himself to keep moving and pretend nothing happened.

Hurrying into a carriage after Blaise he just hoped that Harry hadn't relised it had been he who had bumped into him and said "sorry". Or else, he thought as the carriage began to move, he was screwed.