The Diary of Draco Malfoy

The Diary of Draco Malfoy: Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: First, a few clarifications. The 18^th birthday thing is a belief the 11^th century people have about something being biggest at that age. You know what it is, I don't wish to elaborate anymore. *bleurgh! * Anyhoo, on with the story.

~ DECEMBER ~

December 1

A traveler by the name of Ethan sought shelter in our manor last night. He has curly brown hair, is tall, has a pointed nose and a good disposition. Uncle Brandon swoons over him.

Sir Ethan reckons his fathers are part of the round table. He plans on becoming one himself, and is awaiting the invitation of King Edward. Uncle whispered something about an invitation that made Sir Ethan grin with delight.

My goodness. If what I'm thinking is what they're thinking, then I would rather that they sent me to Westminster to be a monk than live with those two.

December 2

The aspirant knight left early in the morning. Uncle Brandon was none too happy about it, and whacked my arse with a soup ladle when I mentioned his natty beard and cabbage-y smell. Hangover from yesterday, I am supposing.

The pain. It's excruciating when I laugh.

December 3

Snow has come, Benjamin! My inner child is blossoming again!

I shall make myself a snowman, a snow bird, raspberry snow cones and snow punch. Perchance a snow Uncle Brandon staring at Sir Ethan's snowy behind, or even a snow Harry with green beetles for its eyes. If I have time, maybe a snow Sir Snape falling in his snow cauldron. The world is full of possibilities.

It's just terrible that a snow Draco is too hot to keep from melting, though. I reckon I can buy some freezing charm, only that it costs as much as a carriage.

Snow Draco or carriage? Definitely carriage, for crying out loud.

Anyhow, I kept saying the expression "oh my goodness" today. Father, overhearing my sudden femininity of which I obviously got from the very shifter itself, shouted that he allows curses in his manor.

Tsk. A father encouraging his son to say filthy words? Oh my goodness.

December 4

Made a snow bird that looks like a snow pig. If someone asks what it is, I don't know what I am going to say. I honestly don't.

December 5

I ate raspberry snow cones until my appendix burst. While gorging it all down, despite how they make your head ache, I thought about me being a snow cone.

But then, it's so perfectly silly that I stopped thinking about it. St. Mungo's Shelter for the Mentally Disturbed awaits me.

December 6

Sound the trumpets! The leather trousers have arrived!

I spent the whole of the afternoon in my sleeping chamber trying it on.

With undergarments. Nice hide you got back there.

Without undergarments. Oh my goodness. Too revealing. ( But what a thing to reveal, ahmm...)

White silk tunic. Dashing, yet subtle.

Black silk tunic. I will fade into the night.

I reckon I'll try white silk tunic, belt with silver buckle, with undergarments. Perfection. I am the fashionably pale Prince Henry without the crooked nose.

December 7

Wore the trousers. Uncle Brandon's and Harry's eyes were on me all day. Slowly following every move I make. Drooling all over my clean sleeping chamber.

Gawds. I'm turning lads into shifters!

Sometimes I think I'm too handsome for my own good. It's a fatal curse, I'll tell you that.

December 8

Uncle Brandon's spell wore off, but he still wishes that I was a stranger of his age. So I replied, " like Sir Ethan, eh? "

Whack!

Remind me to get rid of all the soup ladles in our manor, would you, Benjamin?

Anyways, Harry is still ogling. Has he not got better things to accomplish?

Frankly, no. Admire my presence, oh beautiful one.

December 9

Harry, not to be outdone, walked in our manor wearing his, UNBUTTONED. Of course, with undergarments. He is not a tramp, as you can see.

Restrain yourself from squealing, Draco. It is improper, uncouth and extremely effeminate.

Ah, I know. I shall squeal through writing. Cover your imaginary ears, Benjamin.

GOOD LORD! WHAT AN ARSE!

Done. You can stop now.

December 10

Nothing to write about today, so I shall tell you something about my family, of whom I dearly love and adore.

Father. Lucius Malfoy, 36 years of age. Handsome, blonde, stately and a distant relative of Eleanor of Castile, Cts de Ponthieu. I disliked him before, but ever since I have turned into 14 years of age, he has been treating me fairly well, so like him I shall. Spectacular swordsman, speaker and broom handler. ( yes, he has been practicing. )

Mother. Narcissa Malfoy, 34 years of age. Beautiful, flaxen, slightly stately and whose family owns many lands in England, Salisbury and Fleece, just to name a few. Vain, caring and supportive. Not a very good housekeeper, but a talented chef.

Uncle. Brandon Donatello Malfoy, 26 years of age. Handsome or beautiful, I do not know, brunette, not too stately, flamboyant and bloody brilliant. Wardrobe designing, haggling ( don't ask ) and empire building are his areas of expertise.

Aunt. Nadiya Berenger , 32 years of age. Whiny, emotional and bossy. But nevertheless fun. That's all I know about her.

Uncle. Murdock Berenger II, 40- something years of age. Handsome, nice smile, dumb as a post.

Cousin. Vienna Berenger, 19 years of age. Imagine a bear. Imagine a bear wearing a kirtle. Imagine a kirtle-d bear with flaxen curls.

Owl. Nielsen. Bloated, spoiled rotten and adores shortcake. He is allergic to ale, though.

Account. Benjamin. Faithful, a good listener, loyal and INANIMATE, gosh damn it!

There it is. My family. Dysfunctional, different, but what the hell.

~