The Extremely Secret Secrets of a Malfoy

Dear diary,

I thought I'd write this final entry, to sort of conclude the summer. I'm not going to write any more.

It is September the first and I'm sitting on the Hogwarts express with Pansy seeing how far she can push her luck without me batting her away. I've been putting up with that for the whole two weeks she was at my house. Nothing really interesting happened, which is why I didn't write. I'm fed up and not looking forward to the new school year. I'm also seriously missing Alex, something I'd never think I'd admit. Am sitting opposite Weasley and Granger, and quite sure that we all look like we'd rather be anywhere but here. Weasley is watching Pansy stroking my arm with a revolted face. Know how you feel, mate. God, being prefect has its prices.

Pansy, Weasley and Granger, and the most smartass Ravenclaws they could find, all in one carriage. I wish there was something to do except glare at them all or boast about my holidays. But Pansy is here, so I can't go into that... not that I'd share it with Weasley.

I might have to stop writing this, as Pansy is trying to see over my shoulder and she's getting a bit intrusive. I told her to push off and she sat back with a flump.

"Diary, Malfoy?" asked Granger scornfully.

"No it bloody well isn't... mudblood. You can push off too."

"I can see the cover." Damn.

Weasley stuck his nose in with his usual wit and eloquence.

"Ooh, Malfoy, why so touchy? Got a lot of secrets, have you? I s'pose it has all about your secret lovers. What are their names, Crabbe and Goyle?" I smiled slightly, remembering certain incidents with truth serum. But then I sneered.

"Weasley, you may be into that kind of thing, but I am not. And incidentally, Crabbe and Goyle have been looking for the third party in a threesome, and they think you're cute." The whole compartment's revulsion was hilarious.

"And he is not into that kind of thing, I would know," said Pansy, hugging my shoulder. I gave her a sickly and patronising smile, knowing she wouldn't pick up the contempt, but hoping to make it clear to everyone else.

"And the I am not touchy in the slightest, just fed up of being in a compartment with you two."

"Yeah right, Malfoy. What would you put in a diary anyway? 'Monday: spent my millions and tortured muggles. Tuesday: spent my millions and tortured muggles.''"

"You missed out getting fawned over by beautiful women, and I'm quite sure my summer was much more interesting than yours."

"Really."

"Yes. Most definitely."

"So?"

"So what?"

"Aren't you going to give us some examples?"

"I snogged a mudblood in the top of a seventy foot tree in a bikini."

"Whu - what?" said Weasley. I smirked.

"Oh, I always knew you were into that sort of stuff," said Granger from under a book.

"Pardon?"

"Cross-dressing. What were you doing in a bikini?"

"She was in a bikini, idiot mudblood. The bottom half of a bikini, to be more precise," I teased, slightly edging into fantasy. Pansy hit me playfully, while Weasley glared at the insult to his girlfriend's ancestry. (If those two didn't fancy each other rotten, I'm a teapot, and let me tell you now I don't even like tea. Gross thought, I know, but it's so...bloody...OBVIOUS!)

"Don't joke, Draco." Pansy laughed girlishly. I put an arm around her.

"Who says I'm joking?" I looked around at the faces of the people in the compartment and realised that none of them had even the slightest clue I'd been telling the truth. Well, Granger was looking at me with narrowed eyes, but I couldn't read anything into that. Weasley sneered, or attempted to. No one can beat a Malfoy sneer. And Weasley just didn't have the knack.

"But of course you are, I mean - who'd want to snog you?"

As answer, I kissed Pansy, who looked ecstatic. Weasley looked revolted.

An owl tapped at the carriage window. Weasley, being nearest, got there first. Not that I hadn't made for the window - I wanted to snoop through Weasley's mail.

Obviously, this rather cunning thought had occurred to Weasley too. As became apparent when he raised his eyebrows at the name on the envelope, made to toss it to me, then stopped and opened it. He read the first few lines then his jaw dropped. He looked at me incredulously, and I suddenly realised.

"That's mine, isn't it? Weasley, give it here right now!"

I made a dive for the letter, but he jumped out the way (gracefully tripping over his own feet in the process).

"Give it HERE!"

"Why so insistent? What are you hiding, Malfoy?"

"Judging by your expression while you read that letter, I think you already know."

I was calculating. It was probably from Alex. Mum wouldn't write any eyebrow-raising letters, and nobody else would write to me on the first day of term. Weasley looked like he was about to read it aloud. What were the repercussions of that? Two sickened Gryffindors and an angry Pansy. But that wasn't a big problem, since I was nearly decided on the Pansy or Blaise situation. The likelihood that she would write, "By the way, in case anyone is reading this when they shouldn't, I'm a mudblood," was slim, and that was the only thing I didn't want to advertise.

"Listen to this, Hermione. I think Pansy might want to hear this too."

"I daresay she would," I said unconcernedly. I put my feet up on the table. At least this letter would prove I definitely had a better summer than Weasley. And maybe even the Pansy situation could be salvaged - she'd come crawling back, even if I didn't encourage her. I felt quite sorry for her.

Weasley looked confused at my retreat tactics.

"To be honest, Weasley, I'd rather have it back, but by all means read it. I expect you'll be satisfyingly disturbed."

"Why, has it got graphic descriptions of your exploits with Crabbe?"

"Like I'd let you lot have it if it had anything incriminating," I said contemptuously.

"I dunno whether Pansy would much like the first sentence," said Weasley.

"Why, is it addressed 'To my dearest love Draco'? Because I get that all the time, it's just fan mail. Can I have it, or are you going to read it out to the compartment. Either way, I want to hear what it says."

"There," said Granger, snatching it out of Weasley's hands and thrusting it towards me. I settled back with the letter, and read it.

Dear Draco,

I really really miss you, you utter, utter git.

My parents have been going on over and over and over and over again about "not befriending the sons of evil Death Eaters." To which I commented that I don't usually lie semi-naked on the banks of lakes kissing people I'd only 'befriended'. Well, maybe I didn't say that, I don't want my dad to have an epileptic fit, but that was the gist. I'll never hear the end of it. I blame you. It's all your fault. I've decided it was shameless seduction on your part, despite the fact I kissed you first and all that.

I wish I hadn't had to go so soon. I can't really imagine how we could see each other, and who knows? You might have forgotten me already. I hope not. But I'm steeled to the possibility now. But I suppose I could think of some ... illegitimate ... means of getting to Hogwarts and back in a night. I'll work on it. Damn you, your amoralityis rubbing off on me.

I am fine. I'm having trouble looking at oak trees without laughing, and my friends think it's mad that I blush whenever someone mentions lakes. But apart from that...

Oh, I really wish you were here. Or I was there. Talking of there, what's Hogwarts like? You listened so patiently to me ranting on, so here is your opportunity to rant back. I just wish it was in person. Do you know something? I hate communicating by letter. You can't make sarcastic replies and I can't see your expression, or anything. And how the hell do you send a kiss by post? Believe me, you'd get more than a kiss if I could send it.

Love from

Alex.

PS. You'll have to imagine the 'x' at the end of the letter. I'm sure you won't find that too hard.

I put the letter down, smirking. Maybe this term wasn't looking that good, but it could be worse. Lets face it, I have women in love with me, millions at my disposal, I'm perfectly poised to abuse my position as prefect, and I get to spend the whole journey driving weasel boy and his smartass girlfriend up the wall. And the possibility of illicit meetings with Alex. I felt extremely happy at the prospect.

Maybe this term would be fun.