Draco Malfoy's True 'Love'

Draco Malfoy's True *Love*

Draco Malfoy sat at his polished oak desk in his dorm room; poised with his eagle feather quill above a blank piece of parchment, ready to write. He chuckled to himself as he remembered his attempt at avoiding his 'friends'.

"But Draaaakieee! Why don't you come outside with us? Come onnnn!" whined Pansy. She finally gave up, stomped away and promptly threw herself all over Marcus Flint (yes his had, yet again, failed his seventh year) who was slowly edging away. Draco stuck out his tongue at the retreating back of his ex-girlfriend.

Draco turned around and came face-to-face with his two bumbling bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, who were both sobbing.

"Why Draco why?" wailed Crabbe.

Goyle, who was the dumber of the two, was too stupid to string two words together so he only grunted (which made him sound like a sick cow).

Draco stared and backed away. "Why the heck ("heck" wasn't the exact word that he had used) are you crying?"

"Because we'll miss you!"

"Miss me? All I want to do is stay in the room for a while by myself! And seeing how the two of you are acting, I think I'll go lock myself away..." Draco turned and fled to the sanctuary of his dorm.

Draco shook himself out of his reverie and turned his attention back to the parchment lying in front of him. He had wanted to stay and 'get in touch' with his poetic side (yes, Draco Malfoy actually has a 'poetic side' to him. As he would put it, 'I am beautiful and I can write', though his writing quality is debatable). He believed that he was a fairly good poet (better than the Weasley girl at any rate. "Eyes as green as freshly pickled toads. Hah!" Draco scoffed).

He had to avoid the other Slytherins because he was planning to compose a poem about his true love (other than himself) and it wouldn't do for the others to find out, no matter how good a poet he was.

So Draco began to write:

My True Love

By (the one and only) Draco Malfoy

Thou art my love, mine only love (other than myself),

You bring me warmth and joy.

If I were to compare you to a summer day, like Shakespeare,

I would say that you are sweeter and more beautiful.

Your skin is so soft and smooth at the touch,

Your bright chocolate-coloured eyes touch my heart.

It brings me happiness when your lips melt against mine,

Because your sweet, sugary mouth is so fine.

I miss you dreadfully when you are away,

I need to have you every single day.

You are so cute - I could just gobble you up!

I love you and I always will,

My dearest Chocolate Frog.

Draco finished his poem with a flourish and sat back to admire his work. He sighed contently as he bit the head off of a Chocolate Frog and savoured its creamy taste.

*~THE END~*