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 12: April 17^th - April 30^th

Sunday 17^th April.

Dear Diary,

Ugh. Oh God. Oh God. Oh.

Five minutes later.

Oh God. I don't want to sound melodramatic, but I really think I might be dying. I can't see properly and my head feels like it's going to fall off. I've been sick twice already this morning. I really think this might be the end. I have no idea what happened last night. What the hell was I drinking? My insides are burning.

Oh, I don't want to die! Not now, not like this!

I wonder how many people will come to my funeral. I suppose it is quite poetic, having my life snatched away before it has even begun. I expect people will write epic poems about it.

Oh, poor Harry! Oh, how can I leave him like this? He'll be heartbroken! He'd better be heartbroken. I expect he won't be able to forgive himself, seeing as he was the reason I went out and got drunk last night, resulting in my untimely death. I wonder if he'll come to my graveside, howling my name and trying to dig me out of the ground with his bare hands in manner of Heathcliff. Perhaps he'll commit suicide, unable to stand the thought of life without me. That would be romantic. I wonder... Gah!

Five minutes later.

It was just Pansy. She threw the curtains of my bed open and glared down at me. "Draco, for fucks sake! Will you stop lying around being a drama queen, moaning in agony?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry to disturb you, Pansy, but I HAPPEN TO BE DYING!" I yelled.

She had the audacity to roll her eyes. "Oh really, you are not dying. You're hung over because you got disgustingly drunk last night. Do you realise how much trouble you've caused, you bloody idiot? Here, take some of this." She handed me a bottle of Hangover B Gone Potion.

I took it very grudgingly, feeling mightily resentful that she was being so cavalier with my suffering. I am feeling a bit better now, though. Perhaps I won't die after all. Hmm, maybe I should have refused the potion. It would have made Pansy feel really bad if I died and she had spent my last few precious moments on this earth being mean to me.

Ugh. My head is clearing and bits of last night keep coming back to me in disturbing lumps. I remember getting to the gig and not knowing anyone and being a bit nervous. I remember thinking that a couple of drinks would restore my confidence. I think I started out on Vodka, but then this bloke who works as a store assistant in Dervish and Banges kept buying me these disgusting cocktails. Oh, I think I may have danced on the tables at one point.

I could do with some chips.

I suppose I'd better get out of bed.

Fifteen minutes later.

Oh dear. I've upset all my friends. I've just had a lecture from them. I finally stumbled down into the common room to find them all sitting around looking very serious. I really wasn't in the mood for it. The only thing I was in the mood for was something deep fried and smothered with ketchup. Still, I could tell from the looks on their faces that I wasn't going to get away that easily.

"Feeling better?" Pansy asked darkly.

I nodded, curling up in an armchair and wrapping my dressing gown tightly around me.

"You really had us worried last night, Draco," Vince said. "When you hadn't come back by one in the morning, me and Greg went out to find you. You were lying in the road on the way back from Hogsmeade, singing to the stars and rambling on about how Harry should just go off and marry the Snitch, or something. You didn't want to come back with us, and then you threw up on my shoes. We were really bloody worried about you! We had to carry you back to the school in the end. See, you always go off and do your own thing, don't you? You never think about the people who might care about you, you--"

"Now, love," Greg interrupted. "Remember what I said before about effective interventions? Try to steer clear of words like 'always' and 'never'. It's best to stick to 'I feel' phrases."

"Screw that!" Pansy said. "This isn't the time for your namby-pamby self-help crap, Greg. No offence, Draco, but you acted like a complete twat last night, and you are lucky that any of us are still talking to you."

Why is it that whenever anyone says 'no offence', they always proceed to say something really offensive? "Look guys," I sighed, "I really don't remember anything about last night. If you tell me what I did, I'll apologise." Famous last words.

Apparently, once the boys had brought me back to the castle, we ran into Snape in the Entrance Hall. I told him that he was a great teacher but that I didn't appreciate the way he treated my 'Snuggle Bear', Harry. Then I started to cry and told everyone that my Snuggle Bear wouldn't snuggle me any more, and that I held Snape personally accountable for this. Then I hit him. Snape told Vince and Greg to take me to bed and give me some water. I was crying again and tried to hug Snape, telling him that I loved him. Once in the dungeons, I told Pansy - who was very concerned about me and had waited up to make sure I was okay - that I felt like she was always judging me and that I knew she thought that I was an idiot. I then curled up in a ball, sobbing that nobody liked me. Then I threw up again. They took me up to the bathroom where I was sick some more. In between bouts of vomiting, I careered between telling my friends that they physically repulsed me and that I didn't need them anyway, to sobbing in their arms and begging them not to leave me. After about an hour of this, they carried me to bed. At this point I seemed to get a little concerned that Vince and Greg were going to embroil me in a threesome, and protested very loudly. Then I started crying again and saying that I only ever wanted a threesome with Harry and the Bloody Baron, but that Harry was never going to talk to me again. I then made them all sit with me and reassure me that I wasn't a bad person and that they didn't hate me, until I fell asleep.

I am never drinking again. Oh, my poor, poor friends.

When I feel a bit better I'm going to go and find Harry and apologise for being horrible. From now on, I am going to be a paragon of virtue. I will never complain. I will never succumb to vice. I will be the model boyfriend, student and friend.

Ten minutes later.

Just got a letter from Snape.

Mr Malfoy,

I hope you are not feeling the after-effects of last night's excesses too violently. It was very kind of you to tell me all about your relationship with Potter last night. I especially enjoyed the anecdotes of the first time the two of you were intimate, although you really didn't need to go into such detail. (Oh God, Vince and Greg didn't tell me about that. Somebody kill me). Fond as I am of you, there are some things that I do not need to know. Please rest assured that I do not take your threats against me seriously. However, it would be wise if you avoided making such threats in future. Other staff members may not be as understanding as I am. I would also appreciate it if you didn't attempt to hug me again. I don't do hugs. I hope that you have learnt your lesson and that you will be more careful with your alcohol consumption in future.

Yours sincerely,

Professor Severus Snape.

P.S. You have detention for the rest of this week. My office, eight-thirty.

Oh, hell.

Five minutes later.

I'm still remembering horrible snippets from last night. I was definitely dancing on the tables. Then I remember telling everyone who would listen about my argument with Harry. I think that Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott turned up at one point, and I made them dance with me. Then I made them promise to tell Harry how much fun I was to be around. Oh God, I am never allowed to drink again. You'd think that my little episode at New Year would have taught me this.

Oh, and I can remember dancing with that idiot from Dervish and Banges and telling him all about how much I missed Harry, but how I wasn't going to apologise first because Harry was clearly in the wrong. Oh, I was so drunk.

Five minutes later.

Oh God! Oh no! Oh my God. I've just remembered something awful! Oh, I think I'm going to be sick again... okay, false alarm. Oh, this is the worst thing that could have happened.

I think that I may have kissed that guy at the gig last night. I remember being really drunk and saying that I was feeling dizzy. He said that he'd take me outside for some fresh air. I was laughing and leaning on him because I couldn't stand up properly. Oh, I'm such a bad person. I'd been flirting with him because I wanted to get back at Harry, but I honestly never intended anything to happen. He really wasn't my type and he was really smarmy. I can remember being outside, rambling on about something stupid, when he leaned in and kissed me. I knew that it was wrong and I knew that I wanted nothing to do with this guy, but for a couple of seconds... I kissed him back. He tasted of beer and cigarettes, and I really didn't like it. I pushed him away and told him to get lost, trying to get back inside. He tried to stop me, but I told him that if he didn't leave me alone I would put a Diminishing Hex on his penis.

Oh, I'm horrible. I am a horrible person and a horrible boyfriend. Okay, all right, all is not lost. Nobody knows about it. I was hardly in control of my actions. I didn't want to kiss that loser, and I stopped as soon as I was aware of what was happening. See, this has just proven to me that I only ever want to be with Harry. I don't care about my reputation, I don't care about only having slept with two people in my life, I don't care about the bloody Quidditch match. Harry is wonderful and I want to be with him forever.

Whether he'll want to be with me now is another matter. Oh, how the hell am I going to tell him? 'Hi, Harry. I know that I acted like a complete spoiled brat yesterday and asked you to do something really unreasonable - sorry about that. The thing is, I know that I said I didn't want to go to the gig any more, but I decided to go anyway, just to spite you. Then I got really drunk and made a complete fool of myself. Oh, and I also snogged some hideous loser because I wanted to get back at you. Even though you didn't do anything wrong. Sorry about that. So... want to go to dinner together?' Oh, bloody bollocking fucking hell.

Later that evening.

I just got a letter from Harry.

Dear Draco,

I am so sorry about what happened yesterday. It was such a stupid argument. I want you to know that you are a thousand times more important to me than a stupid Quidditch match. If I'd known at the start of the year that you'd end up meaning so much to me I would have quit the team. It's impossible for me to drop out now - I can't let everyone down. Just know that it's only a game. I love you and I'm really sorry. Please can we see each other tomorrow - I miss you.

Love Harry. xxxxx

I am the spawn of Satan. What the hell am I going to do? Poor Harry is feeling really bad, when he did absolutely nothing wrong. I've sent him a letter apologising for my behaviour and telling him that I love him. Well, there's no way that I can tell him about the kiss now. It meant absolutely nothing. It was a stupid mistake and Harry never needs to find out about it. I'll just have to live in a constant state of guilt and paranoia for the rest of my life. I can do that. The important thing is that Harry never finds out.

Monday 18^th April.

Dear Diary,

Well, I appear to have reached an entire new level of badness. I have just got back from meeting Harry. Okay. I am not going to panic. He doesn't know anything, everything will be fine. Breathe, Draco, breathe.

Harry was ever so sweet and apologetic, which made me feel about a thousand times worse. I'd got him some cakes from the kitchen because I was feeling so bad, but I ended up eating most of them myself because I was so nervous. Our conversation went something like this.

Harry: "Draco, I really am sorry about that stupid argument. I with there was some way of getting out of this whole Quidditch situation."

Me: mouth full of cake. "Mmmph ng rrrary, nt mmut mt."

Harry: "What?"

Me: Chew, chew, chew, swallow. "I said don't worry about it. Oh God, I just sprayed you with cake crumbs, didn't I? Oh, I am the worst boyfriend ever! I've eaten all your cake! Why do you still like me? WHY?"

Harry: "Um... Draco, are you all right? You're acting weird. You're not on drugs, are you?"

Me: Hysterical laughter. "Hahahahahaaa! What ever would give you that idea? Haha!" Gasping for breath. "No, I'm perfectly fine. I just want you to know how deeply sorry I am for, um, eating your cake. Very, very sorry. I love you very much. And I'm sorry about the cake."

Harry: Bemused look. "Riiiight. Don't worry about the cake. I really don't mind. Are you sure you're okay? Has something bad happened that I don't know about?"

Me: "What?! Hahahaha! Whatever makes you think that? I'm fine! I just feel bad about the argument, that's all. And the cake. But absolutely nothing besides that."

Harry: "Right. Because if something has happened, you could tell me. I want you to be happy. You're not acting yourself today, and I know that something's up. I really do think that If you just talked to me and--"

Me: Pointing behind Harry. "Oh, look! A bird!"

Harry: "Where?"

Me: "Heh. You missed it."

Smooth, Draco, really smooth. You are the master of subterfuge and deception. Merlin, it's a good job I never wanted to be a Death Eater - I would have sucked so bad! Mr Malfoy, where were you on the night of September the fifteenth? Nowhere! That is, I was at home. Definitely not out with Voldemort terrorizing Muggles. Absolutely not. Say, Mr Auror, that is a very fetching uniform. I guess you must work out a lot. I really admire Aurors and would never do anything that might upset them, like hexing Muggles. No way, not me!

Anyway, the point is that while Harry has unfortunately detected that there is something wrong, he doesn't know what it is. Yet. Oh, this is horrible! I think I'm going to have to tell him. I can't go on like this; I'm going to have a nervous breakdown! But what if he's really mad and breaks up with me? I know that I'd be seriously upset if it was the other way round. Oh, I don't know.

To make matters that much worse, I ran into the Bloody Baron on my way back. "Hello, Malfoy," he leered. "Had any luck with that charming boyfriend of yours? Got over his shyness yet, has he?"

"Well, um, er, actually," I stuttered. "Actually, that was all a bit of a misunderstanding. He's not really into ghost-voyeurism. Sorry about that."

"Don't be so sure," said the Baron. "He could just be in denial. A lot of people do enjoy it, you know. The Friar has been known to indulge a few experimental couples in his time as well. And of course, Myrtle will watch whether you want her to or not."

"No, really," I said firmly. "I don't think it'll be happening."

"Shame," he sighed. "I had high hopes of young Mr Potter. It's always the straight-laced, virtuous ones you have to watch for. The things that Percy Weasley asked me to do! Ah, well. If you change your mind, I'm always available." He floated away through the wall.

Percy bloody Weasley? Merlin.

Oh, balls. I have to go to my detention with Snape now. All I can say is that my life is pretty plain.

Wednesday 20^th April.

Dear Diary,

I have just eaten my own weight in French pastries, but I don't care. Nothing matters any more. Harry knows everything.

I went to meet up with him in the quad after class today, and he was standing there looking really weird. "Draco," he said, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure!" I squeaked, a horrible feeling of apprehension building in my stomach.

"Blaise has just told me something. Now, I don't want to believe it, because this is Blaise we're talking about. In fact, I feel really bad asking you this, and I won't blame you if you get really pissed off with me. I just have to put my mind at rest. Blaise said he looked in on the gig last weekend, and that you were there, dancing with this guy. Then he said that the two of you went outside, and that he followed and saw you kissing. I'm really sorry to ask you, but... it's not true is it?"

I just looked at him, feeling like I was going to pass out. My inner Slytherin was screaming, Lie! Lie to him! Deny it all, you fool! But this was Harry, and I couldn't lie. I guess the look on my face gave it away.

Harry looked heartbroken. "I can't believe this."

"Oh God, Harry, I am so sorry," I gabbled. "I really didn't mean it to happen. I went to the gig because I was pissed off, then I got drunk like an idiot. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't even like him, I swear! I didn't mean to kiss him! It was only for a couple of seconds, then I pushed him away. I couldn't even remember it when I first woke up, and then I felt so bad. I never meant for it to happen. I love you so much and I am such an idiot."

Harry was standing there staring at me. He was completely motionless, and I started to worry that the shock had somehow driven him into a state of catatonia. I could only imagine the furore if my cheating ways had put the Saviour of the Wizarding World into a coma. "Harry?" I said nervously, waving a hand in front of his face. "Harry, can you hear me?"

"When were you planning on telling me?" he asked quietly.

"Um, soon," I replied, feeling like the biggest tool ever. "Very soon. I... I was just trying to think of the best way."

He scowled at me. "Draco, with that kind of thing, there is no best way."

"I know. I know. Harry, I am so sorry. I really am. Please forgive me, I'll be much better."

Silence.

"Um... what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, Draco. You've really hurt me."

"I know! I know! Harry, I feel awful! What can I do to make it better?"

"I don't know. I think I just need a bit of time. I... I think we should take a break for a bit."

The next part is very shameful. I stared at Harry aghast for a couple of seconds, laughed hysterically, then fainted. The next thing I knew, there was this horrible ringing in my ears, and Harry was there, holding me up. "Draco? Draco! Can you hear me? Open your eyes!" As all the previous events of the evening came screaming back, I idly contemplated pretending to be dead so that Harry would think his breaking up with me had killed me, then when it turned out I wasn't dead after all, he would be so relieved and guilty that he would forget all about my terrible behaviour and we could carry on as we were before. Then I realised that in light of my extreme fuckwittage, I really just needed to face up to my mistakes like a man. I opened my eyes.

"Oh, thank God," Harry sighed.

I realised that I was lying on a sofa in the Slytherin common room, surrounded by Harry, my friends, quite a few random Slytherins and some people who I swear I'd never seen before in my life. It turns out that Harry had carried me all the way back after I'd passed out, and had then been kind enough to tell everyone that I'd been accidentally hit with a Sleeping Charm.

"Stand back, stand back!" Pansy bellowed. "Give him some air!" She is never happier than when bad things happen to other people. Mind you, I can't talk - I laughed for well over an hour when Longbottom got stuck under his bed while trying to find his toad last week.

Harry took me to my room to lie down. "Are you feeling better?" he asked.

I nodded, feeling very nervous.

"Look," he said. "I'm sorry about before, but I meant what I said. I really think it would be best if we--"

I started to hyperventilate again and Harry had to hit me a couple of times with my pillow.

"Draco, calm down! I'm not saying that we split up permanently! Look, I really love you, but you hurt me badly. I need a bit of time alone to think things through. And I think it would do you good to think about what it is you really want as well."

"But I know what I want!" I protested. "I want to be with you and no one else! I've learnt my lesson, I promise!"

Harry sighed. "Have you? Draco, I think you need to think about what it means to actually be in a relationship. We... we can still talk and stuff, but I think it would be best if we just cooled things off for a few weeks. I have to go now. I'll see you tomorrow." He walked out.

A couple of minutes later, Pansy, Vince and Greg came in, bearing chocolate éclairs and ice cream. Apparently Harry had given them a glossed-over version of what had happened and had told them to try and cheer me up. I love my lovely friends. I love Harry.

They've been telling me that Harry hasn't said that it's completely over, and that there's every chance we'll get back together after he's had a think. But what if while he's thinking he realises that he could be with someone much nicer who won't get drunk and snog random shop assistants in a fit of petulance? And what does he mean, I need to do some thinking as well? I know already that I want to be with Harry!

Oh God, I am going to end up like Miss Haversham.

Friday 22^nd April.

Dear Diary,

Bad. Very bad. Have spent the last two days lying in bed, eating. I may never leave. I may end up being one of those people who eats so much that they can't fit through the doors and become housebound. They may have to take the roof off the castle to remove me with a crane. Except they can't, because I'm in the dungeons. I expect Snape will start charging fees for people to come and look at Draco Malfoy, Whale-Boy. People will laugh and poke me with sticks.

I've been sleeping in Pansy's bed. She very kindly said that I could stay there because I really couldn't face the thought of seeing Blaise just yet. Not that I can even bring myself to be that angry with him. I think that Pansy may be cross with me when she gets back. I've got crumbs all over her sheets again.

I may have to move back to the boys' dorm soon. On Wednesday, Pansy was with Dean, but he had to do something last night, so she was here. Pansy and I haven't shared a bed since we were about ten, so I'd forgotten how annoying it could be. Pansy, you see, is a Duvet Bandit. You'll be just drifting off to sleep, when she'll grab hold of the duvet and roll over with it, leaving you clinging desperately to one meagre corner. We had an argument about it this morning.

"Pans, I was bloody freezing my arse off last night! How the hell does Dean put up with it? You are horrible to share a bed with!"

"You want to talk about unsatisfactory sleeping partners?" she retorted. "You were grinding your teeth all night and kicking me!"

"Firstly, the sound you heard was my teeth chattering because I was dying of hypothermia. Secondly, I kicked you because you stole the duvet, you cow!"

And so it continues.

Haven't heard from Harry. I'm trying not to think about it. Except all I do is think about it.

Monday 25^th April.

Dear Diary,

The Quidditch match was today. Gryffindor won. Sort of.

I was really nervous as it was the first time I'd seen Harry up close since we (he) decided we should go on a break. I think he was pretty nervous too, because he wasn't flying half as well as usual. After about twenty minutes, I caught sight of the Snitch. I started to go after it, but then something occurred to me: Harry had asked me to think about what it was I really wanted. What better way to prove to him that I valued our relationship above everything, than giving him the game after I'd made such a fuss about it last week? I veered off course.

"What the hell are you doing?" yelled Harry, who had also caught sight of the Snitch and was coming up behind me.

"Take it," I shouted back. "It's yours."

"What? No! You saw it first! You take it!"

"No, Harry! You mean more to me than winning a stupid cup."

Loud noises of protest were coming from the stands. By this time, of course, the Snitch had disappeared again.

Madam Hooch flew up to us. "What seems to be the problem, boys?"

"I'm forfeiting the game," I told her. "I want Harry to win."

"What?" Harry cried. "No way! I'm not going to win just because it was given to me! I want to earn it! Draco, don't you dare drop out."

"No, Harry! I can't play against you. This game is yours. I quit."

"Fine - then I quit too! I'm not winning by default!"

"This is all most irregular!" Madam Hooch protested. "You can't both drop out; the Snitch needs to be caught in order for the game to end!"

In the end, because Harry and I both obstinately refused to play, the game was given to Gryffindor because they'd earned more points overall. Apparently, it's the first time in the history of the game that that has happened. I don't think that anybody was very happy, and it seems that my romantic gesture was all for nothing.

"Why the hell did you do that, Draco?" Harry said as we walked off the pitch amid boos from both sides. "I didn't want to be just given the cup! Now we've ruined the last game of the year for everyone! I get what you were trying to do, but... it just isn't that easy." He walked off.

I am a love pariah and my fate of turning into Miss Haversham becomes more probable by the day.

Friday 29^th April.

Dear Diary,

Huzzah for the Easter Holidays!

Now I can go home for a couple of weeks and allow my mother to take over my life for me, as I am clearly no longer up to the challenge. Also, I can spend time coming up with a completely failsafe plan for winning Harry back. I'm feeling a lot more positive. As Pansy says, if there was absolutely no chance of us getting back together, Harry would have said so. We're just on a break. We're taking some time out to regroup, that's all. Now I just need to think of the biggest, most fabulous way of proving my undying love to Harry. Really, what could go wrong?