The Secret Diary of Draco Malfoy: Aristocrat, Ne'er-do-Well, Rampant Homosexual

The Secret Diary of Draco Malfoy: Aristocrat, Ne'er-do-Well, Rampant Homosexual.

Chapter 3: 19^th October - 11^th November.

Saturday 19^th October.

Dear Diary,

I got another letter from home today. I wish my mother would stop referring to me in writing as 'her little dragon.' Blaise caught sight of the letter, and won't shut up about it. Apparently my aunt and uncle from Dad's side have come to stay - another reason to be grateful that I go to boarding school. Mum keeps going on about how handsome my cousin Spartacus has become - I think she's trying to pimp me out to him, which is a bit disturbing.

She says that perfect Spartacus has been going on about how keen he is to sign up as a Death Eater. He sounds like a right twat. I haven't seen him since we were eight, but already I feel that I violently dislike him. He probably isn't even that good looking; my mother has hideous taste in men. Well, apart from my father. And even he's a bit of an idiot.

I wish I knew what I want to do after I leave school. Unless I have a very definite plan, I can't see any way I'm going to get out of the whole Death Eater thing. I mean, I really like clothes, but I'm a lot more enthusiastic about buying them than selling them, so retail isn't really an option. I guess I could do something in the area of nutrition. I'm pretty good at Potions; maybe I could work on formulating some fat-burning energy drinks, or a type of chocolate which speeds up your metabolism. But that sounds like really hard work. The trouble is that I'm spoilt. To be honest, I'm not sure that I like the idea of going out to work at all.

Still no news on who Harry's going out with. Oh, but I can rule Hannah Abbott off the list - she's going out with Terry Boot from Ravenclaw. That was a huge relief; I don't think I would have been able to stand it if that trollop was dating my Harry.

Friday 25^th October.

Dear Diary,

This week has been pretty hideous with the amount of homework which has been set. Clearly none of the teachers remember what it's like to have a life, or they'd be more understanding. I've just finished an essay on Sleeping Draughts for Snape, and I have to devote this weekend to this hideous Transfiguration project for McGonagall on human-to-animal transformations.

This week has been hideous in other ways as well.

I was in the library yesterday getting books out for my Potions essay, and I saw Harry and his friends sitting around one of the tables. They looked like they were having a serious conversation - Harry kept rubbing the back of his neck like he always does when he's nervous, Granger had got her waggly-eyebrowed nagging face on, and Weasley was scowling and trying to pretend that he didn't care what was happening.

I oh-so-subtly edged along behind the bookcase so that I could overhear what they were talking about. I almost wish I hadn't.

The first voice I heard was Granger's. "I know it's none of our business, Harry, but you have to admit that we're justified in our concern. Couldn't you have chosen someone to go out with who's more... I don't know... like us?"

Harry sighed. "Hermione, I think you're being too quick to judge. If you'd just give us a chance, spend a bit of time with us, you might come to see what I see."

Weasley snorted unattractively.

"Harry, be honest," Granger whispered. "Are you sure you're not just being influenced by lust here? It's one thing to be attracted to someone for their looks, but there has to be something else as well, or it's just not going to last."

"And who says there isn't something else? Look, guys, I get why you have a problem. I do. But like I said, who I choose to go out with is nobody's business but my own. We're having a great time together and I really think I can make this one go the distance. I'm sorry, but I'm happy. The two of you are just going to have to live with it."

They lapsed into silence, and I stood there behind the bookcase, feeling as if my stomach had fallen out. So there it was - confirmation that Harry really does have a new girlfriend. I could have wept. Harry is going out with someone and, from what he was saying, he's really happy. Oh, it's so unfair! Nobody could make Harry as happy as I could - why can't he see that?

But who is she? Judging by his friends' reactions, it's not someone they like at all. So my prime suspect, Ginny Weasley, is off the list. In fact, I don't think anyone on the list would fit the profile now. I'll have to start looking around again for someone whom Harry shouldn't be going out with. Oh God, what if it's Millicent? Oh no, surely not. Besides, Granger thought Harry was being blinded by his new girlfriend's good looks. Oh, who can it be?

I was still standing behind the bookcase, battling with my misery, when Weasley appeared a few minutes later.

He scowled at me. "Malfoy? What the hell are you doing here?"

I looked down my nose at him, which wasn't easy seeing as he's a good five inches taller that I am. "What do you think, Weasley? I'm looking for a book."

He gave me a surly look. "Were you trying to listen in on our conversation? Harry's told us about you following him all around the castle; what are you up to exactly? You'd better not be planning something. Just stay away from Harry, okay?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Weasley," I simpered. "I didn't realise that Saint Potter's precious personal space was being invaded. Please forgive me for daring to intrude." With that, I gathered up my things and walked off. Not my finest comeback, I know, but I was pretty upset. Stupid Weasley. So Harry's been telling everyone that I'm a mad stalker. That's just great. Now I'll never get to spend any time with him because he'll always have that lanky ginger oaf fending me off. Have I mentioned that I hate my life?

Half-an-hour later.

Ugh. I just ate a jam doughnut because I was feeling so miserable. I don't know how much exercise I'll have to do to burn that off. I'm sure my arms aren't as toned as they used to be. I asked Pansy, but she just rolled her eyes and said I was being stupid. Nobody understands me.

Monday 28^th October.

Dear Diary,

Something amazing happened today. We were in Potions and I had to get some more heartsease extract from the storage cupboard. I'd just found what I needed when I heard someone else come into the cupboard. I turned round, and it was Harry Potter.

He said, "Could I have that jar after you, Malfoy?"

I said, "Yes," and handed it to him.

It was so weird. We just stared at each other in shock. It was the first civil exchange that had ever taken place between the two of us, and I don't think either of us knew what to make of it. It was such a novelty to be polite to Harry Potter, and it made me realise how things could be if we'd been friends. I should have left it there. I should have exited the cupboard with my supplies and allowed Harry to think that maybe I'd changed or that he'd been mistaken in me. But then I remembered the conversation I'd overheard in the library and all this bitterness about the fact that Harry would never be mine and that he was off snogging some unappreciative tart boiled to the surface, and I just wanted to hurt Harry like he'd unintentionally hurt me.

"Are you going to stand there like an idiot all day, Potter? Only some of us actually care about doing well in this class. We don't all have the luxury of knowing that we're going to pass just because we're some sort of low-level celebrity."

Harry scowled. "Fuck off, Malfoy," he replied. "Forgive my hesitation - for a second there I thought you were being a decent human being. My mistake."

I felt really bad, and I felt even worse when, as we exited the storage cupboard, Snape was standing just outside. "Did I just hear you using foul language, Potter? I think that earns you a couple of nights' detention. My office, seven-thirty tonight." Snape smirked at me, but I couldn't join him in his satisfaction this time. All I could think about was the fact that I'd managed to get Harry into trouble once more.

Harry scowled at me. "Thanks a lot, Malfoy," he whispered, before returning to his seat at the back of the class. See, even when I try to be nice it all goes wrong. I wish I could stop caring about Harry, I really do. I need to just get over him. Or under him. Oh, stop it Draco! See, even when I'm being serious, my libido gets in the way. I despair of myself sometimes, I really do.

Tuesday 29^th October.

Dear Diary,

I was determined to find Harry today and apologise for what happened in Potions. This was easier said than done, seeing as we didn't have any classes together and he's been more elusive than usual of late. In the end, I decided to wait for him outside Snape's office because I knew he'd have to turn up for his detention.

He didn't look happy when he saw me. "Come to gloat, Malfoy?"

I had an acidic response on the tip of my tongue, but I held back. It was time to break the habit. "No, Potter. I just wanted to apologise for what happened yesterday in class. I was out of order and I didn't mean to land you in detention."

Anyone who knows me will realise what a sacrifice that was. I never apologise. The last time I did it was after I'd used Mum's cosmetics to give the house-elves makeovers when I was ten. And that was only because Dad bribed me with sweets.

Harry looked at me in shock. "What the hell are you playing at, Malfoy? Why are you being nice all of a sudden? What do you want?"

Well, I suppose I can't blame him for doubting the purity of my intentions. "Nothing, really. It's just that I think this feud has gone on for long enough and I wanted to make things okay between us."

He gave me a very suspicious look. "I don't know what's going on with you, Malfoy, but I'm not going to fall for that. I don't know what you're doing but just... just stop it, okay? I have enough to worry about right now." With that, he went into the office and closed the door.

Sigh. I don't know what I can do to make him believe me. Perhaps he's right and it's just too late, but I really don't want to believe that. Even if I can never have Harry in the way that I want him, it would be so nice if he'd just smile at me sometimes. Well, I'm not going to give up. I'll do whatever it takes to make Harry like me. Then I'll find out who his girlfriend is, kill her, then kidnap him and lock him up in the dungeons back home. Then I'll brainwash him until he realises that I really am the one for him and we'll be together for ever and ever.

No, I'm just kidding.

But seriously, I might...

Thursday 31^st October.

Dear Diary,

I want you to imagine the worst thing that could possibly happen. Then multiply it by one million. Okay, that's where I am right now. Oh, the worst possible thing. Oh, this is horrible. I might have to take some of Pansy's sedatives to calm myself down, because I'm kind of hyperventilating.

I know who Harry Potter is going out with.

It's Halloween today, and I wasn't going to go to the feast, because the food is always ghastly. I really wish I hadn't now. It was Greg's fault. For some reason, whenever there's a big feast to be had, he always manages to give this really moving speech about the last days of our youth and how these are the best times we will ever share together. I always end up getting all misty-eyed and agreeing to whatever he wants me to do. It's not until later that I realise I've been played. You know what? He and Vince are feeders. They are deliberately trying to make me fat! But I digress.

I was at the feast - deliberately not eating anything despite Vince waving the chicken drumsticks under my nose - when I saw Harry getting up and leaving the Gryffindor table, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. Well, my suspicions were aroused immediately because he loves all of that cheesy celebration stuff. I realised that he must be sneaking off to meet his new lover.

I quickly made my excuses and left the table. Greg tried to stop me, but I pointed down to the other end of the table and said, "Look, aren't those Lady Fingers over there?" While his head was turned, I was able to run for it. I saw Harry going up the main staircase and, making sure to keep myself hidden, I followed. He went down the Charms corridor and into the East Wing. He stopped outside some random classroom and opened the door.

"Sorry I'm late," I heard him say. "I promise to make it up to you." He went inside and shut the door behind him. Heart hammering, I rushed over to the classroom and bent down so that I could see through the keyhole. The sight which met my eyes made me very glad that I hadn't had anything to eat at the feast, because I would probably have thrown it all up again.

There, arms thrown around Harry Potter's neck, kissing him passionately, was none other than Blaise Zabini. I thought I might pass out from the shock. Suddenly, everything became horribly clear. Blaise's mystery boyfriend he couldn't tell us about. Harry's friends saying that he was being blinded by his new lover's good looks. They've been together all this time! So Harry has been gay all along - our love wasn't as impossible as I'd thought! And yet he considers Blaise 'bite me' Zabini a better choice of boyfriend than me.

I just crouched there by the door, my stupid eyes refusing to look away. In the end, Blaise started practically dry-humping Harry and I couldn't stomach it any more. I wanted to scream. Then I wanted to kill Blaise Zabini. Sadly, I couldn't do either, so I followed my next impulse which was to go to the kitchens and consume as much leftover junk food as I could without being sick. I just didn't care any more. I didn't care about potential love-handles: that's how distraught I was.

After that, I staggered back to the common room where Pansy kindly gave me some of her Anti-Indigestion Potion - the cream cakes did not like me very much. I told her what had happened and she was duly outraged on my behalf. She persuaded me that it was a good idea to confront Blaise about it. I had intended to be cool and collected, not let on that I was bothered, then put a Flobberworm in Blaise's bed or something. You know, behave like a mature adult. But I was very upset and tired and full of weird cake. It does funny things to a man. So I decided to take Pansy's advice, despite knowing that she is the biggest scandal-whore at Hogwarts.

So there I was, sitting by the fire, with Pansy whispering words of encouragement in my ear as we waited for Blaise to return. It got later and later, and all I could do was imagine all the things that he and Harry must be up to. When Blaise finally came mincing in looking like the cat that got the cream, I was ready to kill. Pansy gave me a nudge in the ribs, and I cut Blaise off on the way to the dorms.

"Blaise Zabini," I sneered, affecting my most dangerous tone. Unfortunately, the overall effect was ruined slightly by the fact that the Anti-Indigestion Potion chose that moment to start working, and I let out a loud gurgle.

Blaise smirked at me. "What is it, Draco? I can't really talk right now; I've been very busy tonight and I'm exhausted."

My fingers were itching to throttle the little philanderer, but I kept my cool. Clearing my throat and raising my voice so that the whole common room could hear, I said "What's this I hear about you and Harry Potter, Zabini? Rumour has it the two of you are seeing each other. Oh, I'm so sorry," I continued, pretending to be dismayed. "I forgot that you didn't want anyone to know about it. I hope I haven't just ruined things for the two of you."

The insufferable git smirked at me and said, "Oh, that's quite alright, Draco. Yes, Harry and I are dating. In fact, we've recently decided to be open about our relationship, seeing as we've become so close, so you needn't worry about your little indiscretion. Ooh, it feels so good to finally come clean! I mean, there are all these juicy details I've just been dying to share! For one, all those rumours about Gryffindor stamina are well-founded as far as Harry's concerned. And I have to say, I never thought he'd be willing to get so kinky! He might be a good boy in public, but get him on his own and he'll-"

I'm not entirely sure what happened next. There was a strange ringing in my ears, my vision was becoming blurred, and the last vestiges of my self-control melted away. Without thinking, I punched Blaise right in the face and stormed off up to the dorms. Okay, so maybe it was more of a slap. But you know, a slap is just as effective as a punch. I'm sure that I can still make out Granger's hand-print on my face.

Ten minutes later.

Oh dear God. If you can believe it, things have got even worse. Blaise just came in to see me. At first I thought he was going to hit me, but then I noticed that he had this really weird, pitying look on his face.

"Draco, I want you to know that I'm not upset with you for behaving like a thug just now," he said, in a voice you might use to reprimand a naughty five-year-old. "I know why you did it, and I understand completely."

I blanched. "You... you do?" Surely he hadn't guessed about my crush on Harry? That would just be too humiliating. He hadn't guessed. However, I almost think it would have been better if he had.

"Yes," he replied, giving me a sad smile. "Look, Draco, I know you still have feelings for me. I know this must be hard for you, but you have to accept that I've moved on. I'm with someone else now. I'm sorry, Draco, but it's over between us. I just hope that you can come to accept that and be happy for me." He gave me a consoling pat on the shoulder, which made me wish that I'd hit him even harder.

What the hell could I do? I couldn't tell him he was wrong, because then I would have had to explain the real reason I hit him. I just gaped at him in disbelief, trying to think of some way I could say that there was no way in hell I still had a thing for him without revealing the truth. I gurgled again.

Blaise sighed sadly and said that he should go, because it was obviously painful for me to be around him and he didn't want to break my heart any further.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

Monday 4^th November.

Dear Diary,

Well, the whole school knows about Harry and Blaise. It's official - they are together, and I am just about ready to kill myself. I have been hiding in the dorm room all weekend, trying to ignore the way Blaise keeps sighing tragically every time he sees me. The good news is that I've completely lost my appetite and I must have dropped at least three pounds already. The bad news is that now Harry and Blaise have decided to be open about their relationship, they have no problem with snogging in the corridors. Or in the Great Hall. Or outside the Quidditch changing rooms.

Well, at least Quidditch is going well. We had our first game against Ravenclaw this evening and we won, 290-140. I like to think that the recent tragedy I have just suffered spurred me on and made me a more brutal competitor than usual. The feeling of achievement was tainted slightly by the realisation that Harry had been too busy snogging Blaise to notice my victorious capture of the Snitch.

I hate Blaise.

Wednesday 6^th November.

Dear Diary,

Ugh. As if it wasn't bad enough having to sit through double Potions looking at the fresh hickey on Harry's neck, I returned to the common room this evening to overhear Blaise discussing their sex life. He was sitting by the fire with Millicent and a couple of sixth year girls. "Oh yes," he was saying in a smug voice. "Harry is the most enthusiastic lover I've ever had. And he's a fantastic top!" Just then, he caught sight of me, and made a great show of covering his mouth and affecting an air of innocence. "No, I couldn't continue," he said, giving me a look of the deepest sympathy. "I wouldn't want to be insensitive."

Luckily, Pansy was there to usher me away.

It got me thinking though, in spite of my better judgement. Harry's a fantastic top. Hmm. See, in my fantasies, it's always been me topping him. This could pose a problem. Ah well, I'm sure we could come to some kind of compromise. Oh God, would you listen to me? I'm talking as if there's the remotest chance that Harry and I will ever be together. Get real, Draco. I mean, he thinks that Blaise, who is possibly the most irritating human being ever to have breathed air, is a more suitable boyfriend than me. Stupid Potter.

Saturday 9^th November.

Dear Diary,

Oh, I am so fed up. I think that I might be my own worst enemy. I decided on Thursday that the only way of simultaneously showing Blaise that I wasn't still hung up on him and helping myself get over Harry, would be if I found someone else to go out with. This proved to be easier said than done. I mean, it's not like Hogwarts is overrun with breathtakingly good-looking studs, is it? And of course, the plan would only work if I hooked up with someone Blaise himself would like to sleep with. The trouble was that he actually has slept with everyone he wanted to, even the ones who said they were straight. Because he's a slut. Have I mentioned that before? That Blaise is a slut? And now he's off defiling my poor, innocent Harry...

So yeah, the only boys I would have even considered getting together with had already been had by Blaise. The one exception was Zacharias Smith from Hufflepuff, and I wasn't about to go there.

The plan has failed. Failed miserably. It seems so inconceivable that someone with my charm, good looks and infinite riches would be such a failure at life, but there you go.

Monday 11^th November.

Dear Diary,

I was in Herbology today, trying to ignore the fact that Sprout had straw tangled in her hair and hadn't even noticed, when I overheard Blaise talking to Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw. He was telling her about how he and Harry had shagged in the Trophy Room the night before and had almost got caught by Filch. Then he saw me standing behind him and put on this really pious voice. "Oh, but I really shouldn't talk about it here. It wouldn't be tactful."

I am going to kill him. I am actually going to kill him. I'm sure there must be a way I can make it look like an accident. I'll have to talk to my father...