The Diary of Draco Malfoy

The Diary of Draco Malfoy: Chapter 9

December 25

Harry spent the whole of the feast satisfying my family's urge to interrogate about his well-being and staring at my low-slung leather trousers and deliciously flat tummy.

Before the mushrooms were brought out, father managed to extract this answer from Harry:

"I have never kissed anyone before with the exception of Theodore."

"Theodore? Who, pray tell, is Theodore?" I prodded. My eyes narrowed into slits and my potatoes suffered a long hard beating.

It turned out that Theodore was simply his pet pig.

How was I to know that he was *that* affectionate to animals?

After that, mother popped another one of those questions. "Do you have a place to call your own and a land, or two, to rule?"

It sounded like a children's rhyme, but that is just me.

Sir Sirius grinned. "He has eleven lands to choose from, and about the same number of castles and mansions. We ensure you that young Sir Malfoy here would continue living in the lap of luxury."

I was struck by the way he directed his answer to me. "Eh? Are you referring to me, sir?"

Uncle Brandon rolled his eyes towards the back of his ego-inflated head.

"Drakie is a little naïve and clueless when it comes to things such as this. Bear with him."

Mother nodded. "I agree. I reckon he does not even know that he is obviously falling for Harry!"

The whole of the table started laughing their arses off. Having been outnumbered by those goons, I just scowled and continue eating.

Harry beamed at me. I did not have the courage to knock his teeth out.

In public view, that is. Better keep those pearly whites to yourself, pretty boy.

Anyways, after the hilarity (at my expense) subsided, mother, again, started to elaborate on this affair.

"I would like you to know that Draco prefers saffron and beige for their wedding robes, by the way."

I groaned. "Mother. It's off-white, not beige. There is a distinct line that differentiates those two colors, beige having more brown tones than the former. Besides, why should they care about a matter as trivial as that? Honestly, now."

They all looked at each other, apparently amused at what I just said.

Harry sighed. "You are right, Sir Brandon. He is that clueless."

How dare he!

"I certainly am not!"

"Harry, why don't you tell him right now? There's no use of continuing this conversation without his knowledge of it." Sir Sirius pointed out.

Shrugging to himself, Harry reached for a small box in his pocket and threw it at my direction. It landed on the gravy boat.

I arched my eyebrow and started fishing it out with my fork. "Great. Now I have to compensate for your bad aim! What's in it, anyway? I would really want a male pixie named Gabriel, you know."

More sighs. Father banged his head on the table repeatedly.

And they say I'm stupid.

After what seemed to be an eternity, I finally managed to dig out the box without staining my clean fingernails. Sir Sirius commented that I was an extremely neat lad.

"No. He's just really vain." Uncle Brandon clarified.

Runs in the family.

When I opened it, I saw a beautiful golden ring encrusted with emeralds and diamonds. The inscription read: HP & DM.

So my brain was out on holiday at that time. I have no clue what it meant. Call me romantically-challenged if you must.

Oh, the embarrassment. I remember cracking the unintentional joke, "What's this? How Perfectly and Dashingly Marvelous?"

The rest of them, even some people from the other tables, wailed and stared at me in disbelief.

Harry was bewildered. "Uh, it means Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy? Goodness, Draco, it's amazing how you survived all these years without falling in an open privy or something to that extent!"

Then it finally became clear. Betrothal. Marriage. Harry Potter was asking for me to be *wedded* to him, and the whole of my family already knew.

"Oh...." I said, rubbing my chin not unlike a philosopher who just discovered that the world is in fact THE center of the universe.

Or something like that.

Father slapped his forehead. "He finally got it. Thank God. I thought he would come up with another one of those... stupid retorts."

"Eh?"

Mother laughed. "So, what do you think? Your father and I recently decided it to be a wonderful idea."

My jaw hung open. Me? Wedded to Harry? Father thinking it a wonderful idea?!

Bloody hell!

Uncle Brandon added an afterthought. "Bedded! Don't forget bedded by Harry!"

Shifter action. I choked at the concept.

I was then the center of attention. The whole room was waiting for my response, my affirmation or negation, of what controversies would be sprouting out the minute I utter the words...

"So, what castle shall we be in, Harry?"

Cheers and howls erupted from all the sides of the room, whilst the mocking, sneering faces of the Upper Crust each got a huge splattering of stale pudding.

...

They all know how dense I have been, then?!

...

The disgrace of it all!

...

My reputation of being a suave, clever, not to mention wickedly handsome lad is gone with the wind!

...

Well, frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

~

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! If it makes no sense, hey, this is a fluffy humor/romance fic relayed as diary entries!