The Diary of Draco Malfoy

The Diary of Draco Malfoy: Chapter 5

A/N: Just want to tell you that I am really grateful for all those reviews. Please tell me if I'm getting worse or better, so that I can work on it, alright? Thanks a lot!

November 18

No help. Should have known.

Uncle Brandon is having his mansion renovated, so he would be staying with us for a couple of weeks. I am reckoning that he's putting on the new fangled blue fiberglass on the windows. Or maybe new floor rushes for the hallway. Or maybe he's repainting his balls, I mean, walls, in chartreuse. He is filthy rich, and I am just plain filthy. I guess me and uncle do have a lot in common.

Anyways, he will bring his expensive wardrobe and let me try on some of it.

He's dying to show me his leather trousers, he said. Whoopee.

Nothing to lose, though. I'll have him model it for me. If I like it, I'll have it in every color. If I don't, I'll kick his nuts 'till they fall off.

Oh, gawd, that's harsh!

November 19

Sometime next week, trousers in ebony, maroon and emerald shall arrive in a box for me and Harry. I absolutely have no choice. With the aforementioned item of clothing showing off his buns of granite, you'll want them so bad you'll pay double for it. Sort of like what I did.

Looking forward to parading around the manor with that on.

November 20

Practiced my fencing against a spiked windmill. I was yelling my guts out, and yet, no one came to assist me. Some family.

Luckily, Sir Sirius spotted me before my arm flew across the yard. You probably won't notice the slight change in writing, though, I am widely known for my excellent penmanship.

However, I probably won't write much, for my whole arm hurts so, and I am still recuperating from the trauma.

I trust I would receive some presents tomorrow.

November 21

Seamus, Harry, Ron and Neville attempted to entertain me with their own reenactment of yesterday's tragedy. Of course, with a slight twist. Lavender, played by none other than Harry, was the one who rushed to help the poor handsome boy. Those guys really know how to cheer a person up, eh?

I must say that Harry looked damned good in a kirtle. Lose the scar, and he could pass for the Duchess of Lincolnshire. And she doesn't have a simpleton for a face, mind you.

No more now, I could feel my skin ripping. Rip. Rip.

November 22

Uncle Brandon kept me up all night with his stories of dead people and how they wander about everywhere you look. In the cupboard, on top of the candelabras, under the table...

" Beside you. I can see him. He is wearing this long tunic, I reckon from the past century, and he has this cold silver eyes that'll make you quiver like pudding. Oh my gracious, Drakie, he's coming towards you!"

We both ended up screaming like little girls getting run over by a carriage. Just when Rosemary and Camilla were passing by. The humiliation!

My arm still hurts, and I am still petrified. To death.

Benjamin. Beside you.

November 23

Just told the tale to Neville. Dear marmalade, I think he fainted.

November 24

The humiliation goes on. I was too scared, or rather, too cautious to go to the privy all by myself, so I dragged Harry along for company. After confiscating his magical penknife. You never know, he might just screw a hole somewhere, and hole in privy equals exposure equals violation of rule # 5 in Draco's Code of Law: no one gets a peep of my you-know-what until I reach my 18^th birthday.

You don't want to know the reason.

November 25

Perchance my imagination is playing with me? Or is there a long tunic-ed man under the cupboard?

The horror, the horror.

November 26

The long tunic-ed man is of Harry's invention. Made of straw and bundled with string. He thinks he's being funny.

I'll have to admit it's pretty clever, though. But honestly, I can do better than that. I'm just being modest of my artistic talents.

Let the games begin. Tomorrow, we'll have The Bashing of Harry's Head as an opening ceremony.

November 27

Behold, Benjamin, my newest invention: Dung Cake. Looks like dung, feels like dung. Leave some on the street, pass by it together with Victim ( a.k.a. Harry Potter ) , say it's horse dung. Watch as he steers away from it. Then, dip finger in "horse dung", put finger in mouth. Watch the horrified look on Victim's face, for little does he know that it is one of Stalin's culinary masterpieces.

I am in eager anticipation for tomorrow.

November 28

Perfect! Harry vomited the whole of his morning meal ( not a pretty sight, I assure you ) and called sick for the rest of the afternoon . Ha. That ought to teach him to mess with the master.

...

To tell the truth, I feel like a heel. My so-called "conscience" is pricking me like mad. I was just getting even, what is so wrong with that?

But with Harry. You just don't get even with Harry, Draco. You just don't.

November 28 - 2^nd part

Can't sleep. By golly, it's the middle of the night. What if he doesn't speak to me again?

November 29

Happiness! Harry did not take it personally, and even promised to get back at me next time with a much bigger prank. He seemed a tad overwhelmed that I decided not to fight back anymore.

" Know what? You're really something else, Drakie, despite the popular belief. Not that they don't like you, now they very much do, in fact. "

Gawds, I memorized the whole statement! My exceptional memory just won't let me forget it, I guess. And DRAKIE? I thought Uncle Brandon was the only shifter I know! Times are a-changing, that's for sure.

Oh, well, as long as all is well between us, I don't care much about anything.

Did I just say that? My, we're a little over our heads today, aren't we, Benjamin?

~