The Exploits of the Fabulous Draco Malfoy

The Exploits of the

FABULOUS! Draco Malfoy

Chapter 1 - The Death Eater's Handbook

"Draco!" Lucius Malfoy knocked sharply on his son's bedroom door and waited for a response. After several seconds of silence he pushed open the door and peered in. There was no sign of the boy. It was of no consequence to Malfoy. He had far more important things on his mind than his son.

He quickly made his way over to the large bookshelf and began a swift perusal of the contents. He was nearly positive that he had given Draco a copy of "101 Foreign Curses That Would be Illegal if the Government Knew About Them". Macnair had mentioned last week over dinner that the text had several obscure spells that were worth looking into and Lucius, having nothing better to do at the moment, decided to look into this claim.

Several more interesting titles caught Lucius' eye as he scanned the rows of books. "The Conquests of Grindelwald and other tales of Dark Magic", by Vanissa Treniten, "To Molest a Muggle", by Adolf Grumming, and "How to Commit Mass Murder and Frame your Best Friend", a new best seller in the world of Dark Arts Literature written by P. Pettigrew. Lucius didn't see the title he was looking for scattered in the bookshelf and figured that it would be less trouble to send a house-elf off to procure a new copy than to actually search Draco's collection thoroughly.

He was about to turn and leave the room when a black, leather-bound volume caught his attention. The book had been wedged hastily between "How to Become an Evil Overlord in 10 Easy Steps" and "Prefects Who Gained Power", and unlike the other books on that particular shelf, was conspicuously lacking in dust. Lucius picked it up off the shelf and glanced at the spine: "The Death Eater's Handbook", by T. M. Riddle.

"A handbook? Why didn't I get a handbook?"

He opened to the first page, and there, in a noxious shade of red that anyone other than Lucius would have called fuchsia, was scrawled in large letters, "The Exploits of the FABULOUS! Draco Malfoy, vol. 4."

"What in the name of He-who-must-not-be-named?!" He turned to a later page. Most parents would by now have discerned that this was a diary and respected their child's privacy. Most parents, however, did not get their jollies watching disembowelments.

"July 31^st," Malfoy read.

Today is Potter's birthday. I hope he's still with those Muggles. He's probably with the Weasleys, which means he's with MY Weasley. It's not fair. He's a scrawny, ugly, little thing, with disgusting black hair and NO quidditch talent. I, meanwhile, am a gorgeous, perfect-skinned blonde, and yet Weasley prefers him! I am desolate. I need to go beat up a house-elf.

Later:

Have beaten house-elf. Feel slightly better. I am now imagining running my fingers through that luscious red hair. (Does Weasley use conditioner? Must investigate.) Weather still cloudy. Pansy still hasn't responded to my latest owl.

Lucius was in shock. It was unthinkable. No Malfoy would ever... he flipped ahead a few pages.

Aug. 4^th:

Raining again today. Father actually let me into his study, because he was tired of listening to the screams of the house-elves as I prodded them with red-hot fire pokers. At least Mother approved. She thinks it will help build their character. I am still debating whether or not I can forgive Pansy for implying that MY Weasley is in love with that... that... I can't even say it. (Or write it, I suppose. This is a diary.)

Lucius almost vomited. Not only was his son -- though he was loathe to even think it -- in love with a blood-traitorous Weasley, but he actually admitted to keeping a diary! It was too much to be borne. Now if Lucius was moderately intelligent, he would have closed the book now and retained what was left of his dignity. As it was, however, he turned the page. There, in a brilliant shade of aquamarine ("Bloody hell!") was written what could only be described as a love poem.

I've only watched you from afar,

And yet I know just who you are.

As brilliant as the evening star,

My light, my love, my Weasley.

Your eyes as blue as sea that's tame,

Your luscious hair a vivid flame,

Alas! But for that cursed name,

Why must you be a Weasley?

Our families' pasts will thwart our love,

'Tis written in the stars above.

And yet I pine for you, my dove,

My heart, my joy, my Weasley.

Oh no! I will defy Fate's sting,

And from the grandest mountains sing,

That you will always be my king,

My soul, my Ron, my Weasley.

Lucius calmly closed the book, set it back on the shelf, turned and headed out into the hallway. He waited a few moments, then stepped back into Draco's room. That book was still on the shelf. He screamed for a house-elf. Half a dozen came rushing in, bowing and groveling to their lord and master, as house-elves are wont to do. Lucius picked up the book and, taking care not to look too closely at any of the words, thumbed through until he came to the page with the... poem.

"I'm afraid I may be hallucinating. Read this." He thrust the book into the face of the nearest house-elf.

The house-elf, knowing that his master had never admitted to any fault before, realized that he was most likely about to be in very deep trouble. In a trembling voice, he read, "I've only watched you from afar..."

"NARCISSA!" Malfoy bellowed.