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 10: March 17^th - March 29^th

Friday 19^th March.

Dear Diary,

Well, if Harry thinks he's ever bottoming again, he's got another thing coming. What the hell was I so afraid of? I mean, it feels great, Harry is very sexy when he takes charge, and he always makes a big fuss of me afterwards because he knows how nervous I was the first time. I mean, what's not to love? Harry keeps going on about how he wants us to be equals and take it in turns and so on. Well, we'll see about that.

I have to admit, I am a little anxious about how sappy I've become. Even Crabbe and Goyle - not renowned for their observational prowess - have noticed. I keep mooning about the castle with a big grin on my face, humming love songs. Now, this is all well and good, but I'm a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake! I should be out there joining forces with mentally unstable overlords!

Worst of all, Harry and I have developed cute nicknames for each other. Fortunately, nobody knows about that except us. I can only imagine the battering my reputation would get if the school knew that the prince of Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, also goes by the alias of 'Blondie Pooh.' Dear lord, what on earth would my father say? Mind you, I don't think Harry would be too happy if people knew that I call him 'Snuggle Bear.' I know, I know, makes you want to barf. It would have made me want to barf a few months ago too. But... he's so cuddly and snuggly! See? That's exactly what I'm talking about! Oh God, I'm Slytherin-lite!

Right, well, I'm off. I have to meet Harry. And this time I'm going to insist that we have hard, rough sex. No cuddling, no cutesy names, nothing mushy. Well, maybe there can be a bit of cuddling. For Harry's sake, of course. He is a Gryffindor, after all.

Sunday 21^st March.

Dear Diary,

Harry and I went into Hogsmeade yesterday. I'm still working on Harry's style overhaul, but it's proving rather difficult. The problem is that he's really funny about letting me buy stuff for him. I argued that I don't really have a choice when he keeps saying that he's got better things to spend his own money on than clothes. Then he gets all huffy and says that I used to criticize Blaise for trying to change his style, and now I'm doing the same.

"Draco, you used to say that I should be with someone who liked me just as I am. What, was that all just a ploy to get me to split up with Blaise?"

"No, Harry! You'll notice that I'm not trying to coax you into leather jackets or satin shirts. I don't want to change you! I just think that your look could do with a little updating, that's all! You said yourself that you liked all the stuff I picked out."

"That's not the point! I just don't care about fashion. I'm comfortable in what I wear!"

"Of course you're comfortable! You could fit two people inside that sweater!"

"Ooh, care to test that theory?"

"Stop trying to change the subject!"

You see what I'm up against? How can it be that a Malfoy is going out with someone who doesn't care about fashion? He'll learn. It's just because he was brought up with only his gargantuan cousin's cast-offs to wear. And then he's spent the last six-and-a-half years with Weasley and Granger, who are clearly having some sort of competition wherein the one who collects the greatest number of unflattering garments wins.

He just needs to spend a bit more time with me, that's all. He needs to get his confidence up and realise how good he could really look if he wanted to.

We've spent today doing our homework in bed. Not sure how good the homework will be. The bed part, however, was fantastic.

Monday 22^nd March.

Dear Diary,

Why am I so hungry lately? Seriously, so far today I've eaten two muffins, some chicken soup, three cereal bars, some fish with potatoes and salad, five squares of chocolate and a banana. And I'm still hungry!

Pansy thinks it's because I've been having so much sex recently. According to her, you can burn sixty to one-hundred calories, just by having an orgasm! Wow. This was a weight-loss plan I'd never considered before! It certainly has its appeal.

Millicent, on the other hand, had the audacity to suggest that I might be pregnant. Now, that theory most certainly did not have its appeal, and Millicent ended up on the business end of a Bat Bogey Hex. Really cannot thank the Weaslette enough for teaching me that one.

Tuesday 23^rd March.

Dear Diary,

Well, today has to go down in history as one of the most humiliating days in all my young life. I'd just finished my last class of the day and I was on my way to meet Harry in the library, when one of the school owls arrived with a message saying that my dad had arrived at Hogwarts and he wanted me to meet him outside the gates as soon as possible.

Well, naturally I was a little confused by this unexpected turn of events. However, I wasn't able to give it too much thought. I only had time to go back to my room to fetch my outdoor cloak, and tell Greg to let Harry know where I was.

I found Dad by the gates, pacing up and down impatiently. "Draco! You took your time!"

"Well, you didn't exactly give me a lot of warning," I replied sardonically. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"What, now I need an excuse to pay a visit on my son?" he replied innocently.

He should have known better. I of all people should know that when a Malfoy sounds innocent, he is at his most devious. "Dad, what are you doing here?" I repeated. "What are you up to?"

He sighed. "Oh, all right. Look, I want to talk to you. Let's go to Hogsmeade and I'll buy you dinner."

He didn't really leave me much choice in the matter. Besides, I was hungry again and he was offering to pay. To my bemusement, he chose to go to Madam Puddifoots. You know, that painfully twee little café where everything is pink and they serve lots of cakes in little paper cups.

Dad sighed in contentment as he sat down. "Ah, I used to love it here when I was a lad. I went here with your mother on our very first date."

Sometimes I wonder whether my father isn't lying when he says he's a Slytherin. I worry about him. He ordered a raspberry Danish Pastry and I ordered some cheese cake, because it's healthier.

"Dad, what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked.

He actually had the audacity to fold his arms and look down his nose at me imperiously. Might have worked better had he not been sitting at a table covered with an enormous pink doily. "Now, Draco, I read something rather disturbing in the papers this morning. It's not true that you are, ah, romantically involved with Harry Potter, is it?"

Damn it! I'd been so caught up with all the sex I've been having that I'd forgotten to check the latest Daily Prophet! Harry kept warning me that it would only be a matter of time before the papers caught on to our relationship. Now, I'll admit it, I probably should have told my parents about Harry before now. I guess reading about it over their morning coffee and croissants probably wasn't the way they would have liked to find out. But can you honestly blame me? I knew it would only cause a load of stress and arguments. Well, I guess my period of grace had run its course.

I sighed resignedly. "Yes, Dad, it's true. Harry and I have been together for a few weeks now. We're... we're in love. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I knew you wouldn't be happy about it."

"Happy about it?" Dad choked. "Merlin, Draco, I thought that you'd tell me it was all some terrible joke! How could you do this to me? Do you realise how much pressure I'm under at work right now? It's bad enough that bloody Carrow is trying to usurp me in the Dark Lord's good books. Do you know he's got highlights now? Just because he found out that You Know Who likes blondes. And it's bloody well paying off! He's allowed to sit next to the Dark Lord at brunch. That space was always reserved for me in the past! You Know Who liked me to pour his tea for him - said I knew just how he likes it. And now that bottle blonde has come swanning in, buttering the Dark Lord's scones, and I'm completely disregarded! And now, now, I discover that my only son is fraternising with the enemy! How the hell is that going to make me look?"

"Oh, Daddy," I sighed. "I've done a lot more than fraternise with him."

He turned a nasty shade of pink. "Draco, that's beside the point! The point is that what you are doing is going to make my boss very unhappy! And to say that this will jeopardise your chances of becoming a Death Eater is an understatement."

I bit my lip. The time had come to tell my dad the truth about what I wanted for my future. "Father, there's something you should know. I... I don't want to be a Death Eater. I'm sorry."

He went very quiet. "How long have you known?"

"A while." I awaited his reaction nervously.

"Well," he sighed, "I can't say I'm entirely shocked. I think it was something I always knew, to some extent. You know, I just had a feeling. Your mother certainly had a fair idea about it. I didn't want to believe it, and I can't pretend it isn't something of a disappointment. I mean, it was enough of a blow when you told us you were gay! I was relying on you to continue the family name!"

"Dad, this is all well and good, but did you really want to be somebody's granddad? Old Grandpa Malfoy? Pops?"

"Yes, all right," he replied, waving his hand at me. "You make a valid point. But still! The Malfoys have a long tradition of being dissenters! Of scheming and plotting and doing bad things! And now you're off doing Merlin knows what with Harry sodding Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World! It's just not on, Draco!"

"Look," I interrupted. "I'm sorry that things are hard for you at work right now, I really am. But I'm not going to break up with Harry just to make things easier for you. I love him. He loves me. We are very happy together. And I don't know why you care so much about what You Know Who thinks anyway. I mean, being a Death Eater's pretty lame if you think about it. You don't even get to come up with any of your own diabolical schemes - you just have to go along with whatever he says. And he clearly doesn't even appreciate the value of a natural blonde."

Dad sighed. "Ah, Draco, you never did have any grasp on politics. Look, if you must humiliate me and defy everything I've brought you up to believe, go ahead. You always did do exactly what you wanted. Just... just tell me one thing."

I noticed that he was blushing furiously. "What?"

"Look, I... ever since last summer, when you told us you were a wotsit--"

"Gay do you mean? A wotsit is a type of Muggle snack that Harry likes."

"Oh, you know what I mean. Ever since then, I've been trying to, ah, come to terms with it. I mean, I asked McNair to fill me in on a few things. He's that way as well, you know."

"No, I didn't," I replied, trying to repel horrible mental images of McNair 'filling my father in.' Ugh.

"Well, it's just that he explained a few of the technicalities to me. You know, what you lot get up to. In bed."

"Oh, please stop talking," I moaned, desperately wishing that the earth would swallow me up.

"I know, I know, but... what I want to know is... in a manner of speaking... Oh, dash it all, I'll just come out and say it. Draco, please don't tell me that you're bottoming for a Potter!"

I looked up in horror, several Hufflepuff girls at the next table choked on their tea-cakes, and Madam Puddifoot gave a small scream and dropped the tray she was carrying.

"I can't believe you just said that!" I whispered, feeling as if my head was about to explode. "Look, you... you can't... you can't ask that kind of question! Especially not here! This is Hufflepuff territory!"

I dragged my father outside and set off towards town. At that point, a meteor hit earth and killed us both. Oh wait, that was the good thing that could have happened. What actually followed was the most excruciating conversation I have ever had the misfortune to experience, in which I explained that Harry and I see each other as equals and that the same applies in the bedroom. I then had to tell him that yes, I had been the recipient of Harry, so to speak, and it was very enjoyable and certainly didn't make me any less of a man. Dad expressed his dismay at this, and told me that it just wasn't on for a Malfoy to do that kind of thing. I told him that it wasn't on for a Malfoy to borrow his wife's hair products and collect crystal animals, but that had never stopped him. The horrible conversation ended with me telling him that my sex life was none of his business, Harry and I were very happy and weren't going to split up to appease him, thank you very much, and that if he ever wanted me to forgive him he'd better buy me something expensive and made in Italy.

We ended up in Gladrags, where I picked out some fancy green dress robes I'd had my eye on, and Dad got himself a new cloak. "Ah, Draco," Dad sighed as the staff hurried to wrap our purchases. "You really do like to make things difficult for me, don't you? You spend all my money, get me into trouble at work..."

"I don't do it on purpose! Look, if it makes you any happier, you could always tell You Know Who that you're using my relationship with Harry to lead him into some kind of trap. Don't you dare actually try to do anything bad to him, though!"

"Oh, I won't, I wont," he said testily. "I can only imagine the tantrum you'd throw. I think I'd rather face the wrath of the Dark Lord!"

Mutually pacified, we both leaned back against the wall as we waited for the shop assistants to hand us our goods. Unfortunately, the wall we were leaning against was actually the back of the window display, held up only by a Charm. Of course, the combined pressure of Dad and myself broke said Charm, and moments later we found ourselves sprawled in the shop window display, amid shoes, handbags, and several startled-looking mannequins. The shop assistants were all gaping at us in horror. Dad and I glanced at each other, then pulled out our wands simultaneously.

"Obliviate!"

"Well, I think that went well," Dad breezed as we left the shop a few moments later. "You see, Draco, you need never make any real effort to be elegant and composed. As long as you're adept at Memory Charms, people will think you are, and that's all that matters!"

Finally, I was able to ship him back off to the manor, after having to tell him once more that there was no chance of me breaking up with Harry. He is so impossible! I Apparated back up to the castle, and now I'm off to meet up with my lovely boyfriend. I'm going to need one hell of a consolation shag to get over the events of this evening!

Thursday 25^th March.

Dear Diary,

Harry's in a bad mood with me. He wanted to walk me to Transfiguration after lunch, and he got all upset because I wouldn't hold hands. I tried to explain to him that we were in public and that, as a Slytherin, I had a certain reputation to uphold. People are already talking about how I've become a lot less mean since I've been with Harry.

This made him go all huffy because he said that he didn't care about what other people said, and that he wants everyone to know that we love each other. Then he went off in a sulk. He wasn't at dinner. Oh, I hope he's okay - I really didn't want to hurt him. I suppose I was a bit thoughtless earlier. I'd better go and find him and make it up to him. Ooh, I've had an idea! I think I know of a way in which I can show Harry how much I love him, while at the same time maintain my Slytherin reputation! Now, what was that incantation for conjuring handcuffs again?

Friday 26^th March.

Dear Diary,

Well, my plan went down a treat! I went up to the Gryffindor common room last night, looking for Harry. I was met by Weasley just as soon as I stepped through the portrait. "Malfoy! Oh, thank God. Please tell me you've come to make up with him?"

"Well, yeah actually," I replied. "Is he okay?"

Weasley rolled his eyes. "He's been moping around since lunch. I couldn't stand it any more. As soon as any of us goes anywhere near him, all we hear is, 'Does Draco still like me? Am I good enough for him? Do you think he's going to break up with me? Are we just too different? Why doesn't he want other people to know about us?" And then he doesn't listen to what you say in response. He just sighs really loudly, stares moodily into space for a couple of minutes, and then starts up with the questions again. I had to get away - I'm his best mate, but even I wanted to kill him. Please, please just apologise for whatever you did to upset him. There's only so much emo Harry Potter the rest of us can cope with!"

I went up to the dorms to find Harry lying on his bed and, just as Ron had predicted, staring moodily into space. "Hello, Harry," I said softly. He looked up at me but didn't say anything. I got onto the bed and curled up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. "I'm sorry about earlier."

He turned round, so we were nose to nose. "Draco, what's going on?"

"Nothing much, except that I'm an idiot. Harry, I'm really sorry. I love holding your hand and cuddling and being all coupled up. It's just that everyone keeps making fun of me because I'm in Slytherin and I'm not supposed to like that kind of thing. It's just really difficult."

He sighed. "Draco, if you'd just talk to me about stuff like that, instead of keeping quiet then pulling away from me--"

"I know, I know, I'm an idiot," I interrupted. "I do intend to make it up to you though." I pushed him over onto his back and straddled his hips.

"Well, this is certainly a promising start," he grinned.

"Ah, and it's about to get a whole lot better." I reached down and pulled the handcuffs out of my pocket. "Now, this is how it's going to go. We're going to draw the curtains around this bed. Then we're going to get naked. Then you're going to use these to tie me to the headboard. Then you're going to do whatever you want with me."

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want."

Being handcuffed to the bed was a bit more nerve-racking than I thought it would be. I mean, it's just as well that I trust Harry, because I was completely at his mercy there. He could have just run off and left me. He was great, though. Harry really knows how to take charge of a situation without getting scary about it.

Just as we were dozing off afterwards, a sudden thought occurred to me. "Harry?"

"Hmn?"

"You haven't got Nearly Headless Nick hiding somewhere, have you?"

"What?"

"Nothing!"

Well, it was best to check! If Harry does have a ghost voyeurism fetish, I'd at least like to know when I'm participating in it!

Monday 29^th March.

Dear Diary,

Harry and I had another argument today. This time, it was entirely his fault. I went to meet him in the quad after Herbology, only to find him chatting and laughing with that jumped-up little queen, Justin Finch-Fletchly!

I stormed over and fixed Justin with my very best icy glare. "What the hell do you think you are doing? I thought that I had made it very clear over the last few weeks that Harry is my boyfriend, and I do not tolerate anyone trying to muscle in on him!"

"W-what?" he stuttered. "Malfoy, I wasn't--"

"I don't need your pathetic excuses!" I hissed. "Just get out of here before I make you into a living example of what I do to anyone who tried to flirt with my Harry!"

Justin scurried off.

"Draco!" Harry said. "That was really mean!"

"And you!" I rounded on him. "How dare you just stand there and allow that pompous little idiot to come on to you!"

"He wasn't!" he protested. "We're friends; we were just talking! Besides, Justin's straight. He wasn't flirting with me. Now, thanks to you, I doubt that he'll ever talk to me again."

"What? Justin isn't straight!"

"Yes, he is!"

"Really?"

"Yes! He's going out with Matilda from the year below."

"Are you sure she's not just a beard?"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Draco! What is wrong with you? Will you please just trust that I'm not going to go off with anyone else?"

"And will you just trust that I am very sensitive?" I cried melodramatically. "Harry, how can I not be paranoid? You're gorgeous and everybody worships you! Do you think I don't know that the papers are saying that you shouldn't be with someone like me, that you could do better? It wouldn't kill you to consider my feelings every once in a while!"

I stormed off to relate my woes to Pansy back in the Slytherin common room.

"Really, Draco," she sighed. "I don't know how you manage to make everything into such a drama. Dean and I have been together for over two weeks now, and we haven't had a single argument."

"Well, lah-di-frickin'-dah!" I replied testily. "I'm so happy for you and your perfect relationship!"

"Don't be a bitch. And really, how is it possible you didn't know that Justin has a girlfriend? They've been snogging each other all over the school, it's disgusting. Honestly, darling, you thought Harry was straight, you thought Ginny was straight, you thought Justin was gay... for someone who's as camp as the Quidditch World Cup, your gaydar is rubbish!"

"Oh, sod off, Pansy."

Just then, Hedwig arrived from Harry. She was carrying a package, and I opened it to find a note and a cookie from Harry.

Dear Draco, (he wrote)

I'm sorry about before. I got you this from the kitchens - I remembered that raspberry chocolate chip is your favourite. I know you're on a diet, but one little cookie can't hurt, can it? It's my way of a peace offering. I really hadn't paid any attention to what those idiots in the papers were saying about our relationship, but it must have been hard on you. Please trust that I love you, and that I'm not going to leave you for anyone else, regardless of what's said about us. Will you come and see me tonight?

Lots and lots of love,

Harry. xxxxxxxx

Well, I had to forgive him, didn't I? I mean, he got me a cookie!