The Diary of Draco Malfoy

The Diary of Draco Malfoy: Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

November 4

Uncle Brandon got called away to do an errand for the king. He would not be back until next month, so they are already going to fetch for me tomorrow.

I decided to make the Peeping Potion in the kitchen, which is now full of pink smoke and suffocating chefs. I goofed, obviously, but I am thankful for the fact that there's enough undamaged potion for one flask. I could already imagine the things that I could do with it. You will know what I mean soon, Benjamin.

The goat boy said that the eagle owl uncle gave me is a male. It should be! Putting up with those prissy females, even animals of that gender, is not exactly up to my liking. I named him Nielsen, after the baker who gives me extra jam tarts during Michaelmas. It's quite a nice name , don't you think?

More on the gender issue. They should already know by now that men are superior to women, and that I, Draco Malfoy, am superior to all of them. Am I right, or am I right? No choice there, really.

Maybe it's time that I end this day's account, Benjamin, for if anyone shall read this, they shall probably throw up all over my expensive carpet.

November 5

It's raining hard, and I am fortunate that I got home before it really starts to pour. The flood has washed away most of our cattle, and God knows where we will find them next. Sir Dumbledore, however, said that he has used a Tracking Charm for all the animals in our area, which is Northern England, so whether they'd be drowning in ocean Atlantique or being roasted by gypsies in Notre Dame, he would definitely know.

Anyways, father doesn't seem to be too pleased to see me, or perhaps his face had always looked scrunched up ever since. But he did mention my upcoming birthday on the 13^th, and that we would hold a grand ball in honor of the celebration. He also said that after my birthday, I would officially be in a marriageable age, so I must find a wife for me as soon as possible.

Wife? Girls? Horrible! I told him my plans of becoming "the most handsome bachelor in all England" and all it got me was a crack at my rump.

Strange, though, every time someone mentions marriage or weddings I am reminded of...Harry. Perhaps he's marrying a girl and I am to be the best man? Or is it something else?

November 6

Raining. Stuck inside with nothing to do. No opportunity to try out the potion. The Weasley girl is very careful about her bathing nowadays.

November 7

Still raining, but I saw Harry playing outside with Ron and Neville. They didn't seem to mind the rain at all. I feel a little tinge of hate because he did not even bother to come to the manor and ask me to join them.

I did fiddle around with father's torture instruments, however, so the day was not a complete waste. Did you know, Benjamin, that cut off toes start to smell bad only when they get in contact with water?

If it will rain tomorrow, I would join them outside. And I'll try to be a little nicer. Forgive but never forget. An opposing statement to my father's, but nevertheless effective.

November 8

It's a sunny day, but they still played outside, this time with Seamus and the redhead twins. I went downstairs ( more like fled downstairs ) and ran towards the street where they were all standing.

I was extra-nice to them. I said, " Can I play with you guys? " and I let them win some of the games, and at the end, they were all gawking at me with astonishment. Harry, of course, did not know that I had the reputation of Mr. Unapproachable, so he was just smiling. And it feels so great that I cannot continue on writing because I might get sickeningly poetic.

Love dawns on those who wait, and not those who hate.

Man, I'm good.

November 9

My parents are already preparing the list of the people invited to my birthday bash. Some of those who are invited are the Delacours, the Browns ( one more move of that Lavender girl and I'll smash her head to bits ) , the Thomases, the Krums ( Bulgarian slug, anyone? ) , the Potters, the Finnigans, the Weasleys , Neville Longbottom and his grandma, Sir Dumbledore, Mr. Snape, Lady McGonagall, and the Parkinsons. The others, I do not know who the hell they are, so ignore them I shall.

An awful lot of girls were on the list, too, unfortunately. Perchance they are expecting me to flirt and if they are lucky, tumble at least one or two of those extremely lucky lasses. But they shall not get what they want, because I wish to tumble with someone else...like perhaps Har...

Crap. How embarrassing to think that. Erase. Erase. Erase.

November 10

The color motif is emerald green and silver. I suggested it to be a masquerade ball, but then the downside of it would be not knowing who you are dancing with and what they look like without the mask. Imagine if I got paired up with Neville's grandma...oh gawd. Somebody give me chamomile oil here, I am in need of serious medication.

It is proposed that until the actual finding of my tumble mate ( here we go again ), I could enjoy the company of the lads. I already had my green cloak and black velvet dress robe steam-pressed by the servants, and tomorrow I shall have them shine my new Libellule Aile boots, another fine masterpiece by Tailleur Jacques of Paris. ( free advertisement! How quaint. )

November 11

My parents and I visited the Potter mansion to get decorating ideas for the garden, so Sir Sirius reluctantly chaperoned them through their backyard, probably worried that father would chop off a gnome's head as soon as he sees one. He knows perfectly well that father hates those ugly little creatures and that decapitated gnomes look awful with gardens such as his.

They told me to wait for Harry in his sleeping chamber while he is washing up. His room smells nice, like vanilla beans and cocoa. He's been eating upstairs again, I bet, and I won't be surprised if I find some mice scampering around.

I used the Peeping Potion on the door of his bathing room while waiting, and, just to say it decently, I must be careful not to drool on my meat later on.

When he got out and found out what I had been doing, he poked me in the eye dead center and called me a good-for-nothing pervert who has no respect for the privacy of others.

Thank you, thank you very much.

November 12

I am not allowed to touch a thing downstairs because everything is already in ship-shape.

They told Camilla to scrub my back extra hard today and to " Brush his hair 'til it shines like gold and is as soft as silk. " They also let me choose a new perfume. ( We men wear that, I swear ) There's musk, rose, autumn, vanilla and cinnamon. I chose vanilla. Don't ask why.

But you will know the reason, don't you, Benjamin? I am afraid you would.

Got to get some sleep, then. Tomorrow is the big day.

~