Mmkay, yet another story that I wrote in my demented 11/12 year old brain. Soo... yeah. It's discontinued.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the following: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, a magic carpet, or Pepsi. (Yuck.)
The Diary, yes DIARY, of Draco Lucious Malfoy.
July 25 9:36 A.M.
Dear Diary.
I have just learned all the very superb rulers have kept diaries. Did you not know macho men keep diaries? I bet you didn't. Because you are a DIARY! Hah! not a living breathing thing like that monster under my bed.
9:39 I am not a superb ruler yet.
9:42 I WANT MY CROWN! ALL HAIL KING DRACO! I wish.
July 26 12:12
Dear Diary.
Oh dearie me. I oh so miss Hogwarts. Well, maybe just my fanclub. Yes. The fanclub. And torturing Potty and Weasel. And looking at those wonderful mirrors that say very nice things about me. I really miss those mirrors. I'm going to cry now.
12:38 I cried. I cried my little heart out. I also ate a corndog. And a Diet Pepsi. Muggle drinks are very good. I must hid my stash from father.
Oh wait. Never mind. I shall not live in fear of that dreadful man anymore! Our dear Potty has put him in Azkaban. Poo.
1:00 I have displayed my collection of Diet Pepsi on the mantle. Hehe.
July 27 10:54
Dear Diary.
I am hiding in a small closet on the fifth floor. I transfigured my wand into a pen and a light. One of those pink ones with those fuzzy-- never mind. Anyway. There are two scary girls running around my house. Scary critters those muggles. One was actually wearing a 'I heart Harry' tee shirt. The other has very exceptional taste though. Dressed head to toe in the finest Draco Malfoy, er, clothing. Even had a fake tattoo of my face, saying 'You're dead Potter!'. The other had one of me bouncing up and down as a ferret. The ferret bounced. Anywhos, I have no yum-yums, and I think I hear those girls.
July 30 2:42
Dear Diary.
I'm sorry I haven't written. Let me tell you what those evil children did.
As the Potty lover held me over the balcony, I was forced to recite vows to her friend who loves me so. I am now a married man. A very dirty, beat up married man chained in a room. But I have you diary, and that is all that matters. And let me tell you. Potty's girlfriend is very sneaky. She took you right out from under my nose! AND read you on national television. Okay, maybe not, just out loud. Wait! I hear them coming! Now what is my wifie's name? Isabella? Brittany? Frank!
4:00 No. It's Lindsay. It's burned into my upper arm. Along with a heart. Ouch.
July 31 Midnight
Hip-hip-hooray. It's Potty's birthday. As his girlfriend loudly informed us with a countdown and fireworks. We are now on a giant outlawed magic carpet flying to Surrey to give him his present. Fun fun fun.
1:00 A.M We've just arrived at Potty- er, Potter, er, Harry's house. The scary girl is giving him his present. He looks very confused. Oh no, I think he had spotted you!
MALFOY IS A HUGE SNOT FERRET!
MALFOY EATS MONKEYS!
ALL HAIL WEASLEY!
August 7
Potty stole my diary and sent you to Weasel's house. They graffitied all over my precious. MY PRECCCCCCIOUS! Darn it. The girls are coming.
August 8
Oh goody. The two girls got into a fight over me. Again. THEY LOVE ME! Not. Marie, no, Lindsay, YES! That's her name. Lindsay loves me. Back to the fight.
The girl referred to as 'Shayin' I think tried to have some fun and turned my hair to match Gryffindor colors. The wife got mad, and turned Shayin's hair green and silver. Shayin then turned Lindsay's hair a gross brown color, and textured it, so now it's like a lumpy, brown/thing/ on her head. Anyway, they then turned on me and started to send colors my way, I tried to duck out of the way, but the chains don't let me get to far, ya' know? So, my hair turned a whole much of different colors, and then was set on fire by someone. Guess who. My Wifie fixed it, but it's still a bit charred, and now is flashing different colors every twenty seconds. Wonderful.
Midnight Can't. Sleep. Hair. So. FLASHY!
August 11
I can't believe it! They're writing songs about me! I found this one piece of paper on my daily hour walk without chains on, and this was on the kitchen counter:
Draco Malfoy got run over by a Teapot
By Chyane and Lindsay
Draco got run over by a teapot,
Running away from our house late that day,
You can say there's no such thing as storming Teapots,
But as for me and Lindsay/Chyane, we believe! We believe!
(Chorus)
He'd been drinking to much tea,
We'd forgot put him in his chains,
He should have tried the coffee, the cofffeeeee
But ran right out the door into the grasssssss!
When we found him the next morning,
At the scene of the stampede,
He had burn marks on his forehead,
And his rags were tea-stained black.
(Chorus)
Now we're all so proud of Lindsay,
She's been taking this so well,
See her sitting in that room,
With padded walls and whiteness all around.
Now the tofu's is on the table, And all of us in pain,
The green and silver candles, That would just have matched Draco's chains.
(Chorus)
Hey!
(Chorus)
But as for me and Lindsay/Chyane we believe! (x2)
Draco got run over by a teapot,
Running away from our house late that day,
You can say there's no such thing as storming Teapots,
But as for me and Lindsay/Chyane, we believe! We believe!
Watch those teapots!
-------------------------------
I can't believe it! How mean! I cried for a straight ten minutes after reading that. But it was only because of Shayin poking me in the eye.
OWCH!
She'd been reading over my shoulder, and seen the way I had written her name. She smacked me on the back of the head causing my hair to flash rapidly, told me it was 'CHY-ANE', and ordered me to get back in my chains. She also took the song. Poo.
August 12
Yay! T.W. the wife as bought me a radio! Of course, it is a muggle radio, and we have no ootlets, I think their called, to plug it into.
3:00 Chyane and TW tried to wire a plog-on. It blew up. Each of them have singed hair. Chyane started to bang her head against the wall when she realized we could have just used batteries. The wife looks confused.
3:15 We haven't found any batteries, BUT the girls found a year old omelet under the kitchen stove...
August 13
They made /eat/ the omelet. It wasn't quite that bad, actually, if you like those moldy sort of omelets.
August 30th
The wife has just finished the sixth Harry Potter book. They write BOOKS about him? What about me? And she has divorced me. Thank gosh. The only problem is, that they locked me in a room full of strange pre-teen fangirls who have not read a single book in their entire lives. They just think I'm hott, oh boy. Oh crap, one of the-
This story has been discontinued, due to the fact Ron is better than Draco. And lots funnier. Ta'. -- Chy