Draco Malfoy's Army

Saturday 31 August
154lbs (disgusting), sweets 12 (but am going through nervous breakdown so o.k.), alcohol units 7 (re: nervous breakdown), fags 1,000,000 (but have lost count), minutes in front of mirror 45 (terrifying)

10:00 a.m.
Awoke cheerful and rested, only to remember that is last day of freedom before returning to hellish prison that is school. Try to think positive thoughts in accordance with new school year resolution of Being a Better Person. Plus, have heard negative thoughts give you wrinkles. Do not want to look like old man before my time.

1:30 p.m.
Just received Floo call from Pansy wanting to know what I plan to wear tomorrow to train station. Do not see as it's any of her business, but somehow got caught up in conversation regarding clasps. Have determined to wear silver serpent clasp tomorrow, because Pansy hates it. Hate Pansy. Hate. Why won't the girl leave me alone?

5 p.m.
There's really nothing to calm me down like ordering around House Elfs. Have made them pack all belongings in expensive new trunk with Bottomless Pit charm. Am very fond of trunk, as permits me to bring every last piece of clothing and accessory I own for first time ever. Love trunk. Would marry trunk if trunk were not inanimate object. May marry trunk anyway, as other option seems to be Pansy.

8 p.m.
Crisis. CRISIS!!!!! Am made speechless and incoherent by life-changing news that has just been imparted to me. Luckily can still write, so will report conversation with Father as ver batim as can manage:

Father: Draco, I have some news for you.
Me: You're finally buying me a Firebolt?
Father: No.
Me: But tomorrow's my sixteenth birthday! I think I deserve something flashy and fast to show for it.
Father: Precisely. At the stroke of midnight tonight, you will turn sixteen. What you do not know is that at your birth, you were cursed by a vengeful fairy who did not like your father. The curse turned you into a boy until your sixteenth birthday, when the curse will be lifted and you will take on your true form.
Me: Huh? That's ridiculous. You're having me on.
Father: Excuse me, but Malfoys do not "have people on." Joking is strictly forbaden by the Malfoy Code of Dishonor.
Me: So you're saying that you pissed off some fairy so she turned me into a boy, and at the stroke of midnight tonight, I'll turn back into a girl?
Father: Yes. Except that, seeing as it is also against the Code for anyone to be pissed off at a Malfoy, you're dead wrong. Draco, I am not your father. The Dark Lord is. And your true name is Esmerelda Vellalobose Amoura de Mort.

Past that, world is bit hazy. Have been steadily drinking since, in attempt to blot out Father's ridiculous predictions. He is having me on, regardless of Code. Code is silly piece of drivel anyway. Oh no, did I really just write that? Perhaps Father is right...

12:37 a.m.
Am grrrl. Isss disgushtin. But am to drank to car. Has spent pst haf hour staring at naked shelf in miror. Thish explains why have nevr found grrls v. attractive. But refuse to be calld Esmerelda. Is ridiculous. Trying to thnk positive--at leest will not haf to mary Pansy.

Sunday 1 September
107lbs (will be best Seeker ever, now that am optimum weight), sweets 5 (but okay b.c. have lost 50 lbs over night), fags 0, alcohol units 0 (but not for lack of trying), minutes in front of mirror 93 (but okay b.c. am now girl)

7:30 a.m.
Mum woke me up crying. Was not sad over horrible transformation but overjoyed. "Oh popkin," sobbed traitorous mother, "I've finally got the daughter I've always wanted." Mum wanted to brush and style hair, and as did not want to show up to school looking like Mudblood Granger, let her have her way.

Have discovered that am actually quite pretty in a pointy sort of way. Still look like me, but have long hair that shimmers in waves to my elbows. Am also smaller, and have breasts. Breasts remain disappointingly small. If must be a girl, feel I should have nice rack to go along with it. Do not look remotely like Dark Lord, which is relief. Would be terrible to have to explain away red eyes and scales.

9:45 a.m.
Breakfast with Father. Or not Father, since Father is actually Dark Lord. Breakfast with man who pretended to be Father, then. Pretend Father (hereafter known as PF) explained situation more fully. Must pretend to be own long lost cousin at Hogwarts on exchange program. If asked, must say "Draco" is spending year at Durmstrang, while I am here. Must go by Esmerelda Malfoy. Believe PF is making that up to torture me further. Must not reveal to anyone that Dark Lord is Father.

When asked who my mother is, PF would not respond. Suspect it may be him.

11:10 a.m.
Have found compartment to self on train. Have still not fully processed horror of new-found situation. Can only be relieved that attraction to males no longer makes me pouf. Am confused by idea of being Dark Lord's son. Daughter. Ugh. Does this mean that must call Dark Lord 'Father' when receive Dark Mark after graduation? Wonder if Dark Lord will buy me Firebolt for birthday, as PF is obviously stingy git.

12:15 p.m.
Am in love. Want to lose my virginity immediately to this gorgeous, gorgeous man, who happens to be new Defense professor. This Vision of Deliciousness popped by to introduce self and explain that I must be Sorted with firsties. Could not find it in self to be angry due to overwhelming desire to throw self on man. Did not catch his name, as was too busy staring.

2:00 p.m.
Should have known that I could not manage to go entire train ride without seeing either Pansy or Triumvirate of Terror. Pansy came by around lunch to check up on new girl. She was in big snit that 'Draco' had failed to inform her of the change in plan. Was amused to see that she had tried to coordinate her outfit with what I was planning on wearing. But since now am girl, Mother surprised me with entire new wardrobe as birthday gift.

Would rather have had Firebolt.

"So where's Draco gone to, then?" Pansy asked me. She is even more annoying when am girl than she was when was boy. Huh. Not sure that sentence made sense.

"Durmstrang," I told her. I do not like to speak much anymore, because voice is now several octaves higher. Okay, one octave higher, but is still disconcerting. Flicked my hair over shoulder to demonstrate my Inner Poise. Pansy appeared livid. I know this because her face turned red and splotchy. Highly unbecoming.

"So Draco's gone to Durmstrang, and we've got you instead?" Pansy asked, very haughty and cold. Can sort of understand what Mudblood Granger feels like now.

"How very fortunate for you," I told her, just as haughty. Am rather good at 'haughty.' Have spent hours in the mirror perfecting it.

Pansy harrumphed. "Well what's your name then? I suppose you'll be in Slytherin? You'll have to share our dormitory, which is a shame, as there's hardly room in there as it is. Someone must complain to Professor Snape about the appalling lack of decent accommodations at this school."

Did not want to give name. Hate name. But Pansy was staring, one dark eyebrow arched just so. Was tempted to lie and say "Gardenia" or "Serenity" or "Sue"--all perfectly good pure-blood names, but knew Pansy would figure it out eventually. Honestly though, who names their child Esmerelda? Is ridiculous. Utterly.

Muttered name. Pansy had to lean forward to hear. Resolved to throttle Pansy if she so much as smiled. She didn't. She leered. Disgusting.

"Oh, cute. Absolutely darling. Can I call you Esmie?" Pansy mocked me. Me! Draco Malfoy! Is disgraceful, when trash like Parkinson mocks a Malfoy. Told her so. Her eyelids fluttered dangerously in attempt to be reinstated to my good side. Was having none of it, but let her carry on.

"Oh, I didn't realize you and Draco were related," she gushed.

"The fact that we look almost exactly alike didn't perhaps clue you in?" Every year am getting better and better at come backs. Really have a very sharp wit, but am daughter of Dark Lord, so is to be expected.

"Well, you're a girl," she said dumbly. Parkinson is clearly moron.

"Oh well spotted," I said in my most acidic voice. Does not sound the same in higher register. Am saddened by this. Must now practice all tones of voice in new girl body until they sound right again. For future reference, must practice: scathing, searing, acid, sneering, mocking, and derisive.

"Now if you'll excuse me," I said, "I need to do some reading."

Pansy left, but peace did not prevail for long. Was soon replaced by Triumvirate of Tediousness, once again sticking their noses in everyone else's business. Granger, Potty, and the Weasel were disturbingly nice to the new me. Granger offered to help me catch up in classes, while Potty and Weasel couldn't stop staring at me, despite my still disappointingly small breasts. Granger rolled her eyes as if to say, "Silly boys," while Potty and Weasel stammered through introductions.

Managed to keep silent during entire exchange, while staring at them all coldly. Finally, Potty managed a complete sentence that didn't involve fierce amounts of flushing.

"Er, so are you, er, related to Draco Malfoy by any chance? Er?"

Flicked my hair again. Have discovered that I quite like doing that. Reminds me of PF for some reason. "I'm his cousin," I replied coldly. "Esmerelda." Had job of it not wincing when I gave my name.

"That's a lovely name," the Weasel told me. He appeared quite earnest and sincere. Potty nodded as if my understanding their liking of my name was matter of life and death. Proceeded to stare coldly at all three. Luckily, Granger took the hint and pulled the Dumb-tastic Duo out of my compartment with mumbled apology. Am disgusted that now have to be grateful to Mudblood for saving me from the slathering of those two idiots.

9 p.m.
Am utterly horrified and humiliated. Life as I know it is officially over. Am debating which would be faster, less painful method of suicide--slitting my wrists or overdosing on Draft of Living Death. Suppose answer is obvious, but the wrist slitting is a bit more dramatic and definitely more metaphorical for what has just happened.

Have been Sorted into Hufflepuff. Wish I was dead.

Hufflepuff dormmates are ridiculously nice. And sweet. They share. They offer to help each other out of goodness of own hearts. Is disgusting. Think I may puke just from listening to them be so cheerful and good.

If the Dark Lord had any mercy, he would have smote me down at birth. A Hufflepuff. Apparently, my hypocrisy knows no bounds. Am shamed beyond belief. Wonder if I could convince PF to kill me in order to uphold Malfoy name.

Susan Bones has just brought me hot chocolate, while blushing, and told me how much she always admired 'Draco.' Perhaps Hufflepuffs not so awful after all.

Monday 15 September
103lbs (have lost weight w/out trying--love new girl metabolism), sweets 13 (but have lovely new metabolism), fags 10, alcohol units 0 (Hufflepuffs disgustingly sober lot), minutes in front of mirror 87 (don't hate me b.c. am beautiful)

5 p.m.
Am amazed by fact that, now that am girl, every boy in Hogwarts suddenly finds me irresistible. And some of the more butch girls as well. Have taken to avoiding Millicent Bulstrode at all costs, as she is wont to rub self against me in disturbingly sexual manner while batting non-existent eyelashes down at me. Is too bad--Milly was good friend previous.

Am also slightly miffed that none of these boys noticed me pre-girl. Do not look all that different than did as boy, except that no longer have penis. Suppose hair is longer, but even so, one would think people might recognize me. Potty and the Weasel have started following me around, offering to carry my books. Would probably both go jump in the lake if I asked nicely enough.

Have been forbidden by Professor Snape to use new-found Grrrrl Power to influence besotted boys into doing embarrassing things. Snape, who is of course Informed of the Situation, has been guiding light throughout this. Was very kindly concerned about Sorting, and even offered to have it overridden.

Demurred him, mainly b.c. have become accustomed to new set of slaves I have acquired in form of Hufflepuff sixth year girls, who do all manner of fetching and carrying on my behalf. Have also replaced that git Zacharias Smith as Hufflepuff Seeker. He is only boy in entire school not enamored with me.

Still have not managed to snag sexy new Professor, who's name is Beau Stroblume. Is German and has sexy German accent. Does not sound at all like that oaf Krum. Well, sounds a little like Krum, but sexy. Is surprisingly good teacher, but I can hardly concentrate in his class. Dumbledore can't possibly have imagined that any female could learn anything with Stroblume staring at her across his desk.

Am already planning his seduction. Have persuaded Hufflepuff girls it is in their best interest to help. Will form Planning Committee for operation Seduce Stroblume tonight in safety of dormitory.

Friday 19 September
106 lbs, sweets 3, fags 37 (but am stressed), alcohol units 8, minutes in front of mirror 13

7 p.m.
Have just returned from weekly status meeting with Professor Snape. Unless am quite mistaken, believe Snape has come onto me. Wish I would die on the spot, but in absence of spontaneous death, have decided to get pissed. Conversation went something like this:

Snape: Good evening, Miss Mort. I trust everything is well?
Me: Yes sir. Things are coming along splendidly. Have you heard anything from Father? I mean, Lucius?
Snape: It is difficult for us, as you know. Lucius's...indiscretion... last June, his 'outing,' so to speak, of being closely connected to the Dark Lord, has made it nearly impossible for us to keep in touch as we once did. As you must be aware, my position in this school cannot be compromised.
Me: Of course, sir. I understand. All is...well?
Snape (with suspiciously sly smile): All would be much better if you were to cease playing this tiresome game with me, Miss Mort.
Me: Game, sir? I'm afraid I don't understand.
Snape (moving around his desk to stand in front of me): Don't be coy, Miss Mort. It doesn't suit a woman of your pedigree.
Me: Coy, sir? (am so shocked, am reduced to repeating Snape's words back at him, instead of coming up with proper replies).
Snape (reaching out to cup my face in his palm and run fingers through my admittedly lovely hair): We both know what this is about, my dear. You have wanted me since you were a sniveling first year, pretending to like potions just to spend more time in my presence.
Me: Sir! I just really like potions, sir! Honestly!
Snape (chuckling evilly): Don't lie to me, my dear. I am a skilled Legillimens. I can sense a lie just by looking into your eyes. And what lovely eyes you have. I have been waiting for this moment for nearly five years and now, finally, our chance has come.
Me: !!!!

Needless to say, escaped office as quickly as possible, leaving behind v. confused and embarrassed Snape. Is more difficult having everyone love you than ever suspected would be. Off to get pissed. Ta.

11:47 p.m.
Mission accomplished. Am pissed. Have also managed to get several Hufflepuffs pissed. Is most hilarious thing have seen in weeks. Do believe Justin Finch-Fletchly may finally get someone to snog him. Poor boy has never been kissed. May even initiate him myself.

Did I just write that? Ugh. Am not nearly pissed enough. Must find more booze.

Tuesday 30 September
108 lbs (water weight, so doesn't count), 32 sweets (disgusting), 12,000 fags (but am in crisis so o.k.), alcohol units 0, minutes in front of mirror 0 (cannot bear to look at self)

9:03 a.m.
Oh. Great. Merlin.

Dumbledore has just announced there will be a Halloween Ball. Am far more overjoyed at this news than feel is strictly necessary. Have already pictured every piece of clothing in wardrobe in past fifteen minutes and decided nothing is suitable to wear. Must make emergency trip to Hogsmeade to get new robes made. Will get Snape to give me pass. Can make him do anything now, after that embarrassing incident in his office. The poor man must be delusional from so many years without sex. Can hardly blame him though. Am quite a sexy young thing.

9:54 a.m.
Have already been asked to the ball by three Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw. Both Potty and the Weasel have been staring at me during entirety of Herbology, but have so far managed to avoid them. Although would like to see crushed, forlorn look on Potty's face when I reject him, have sneaking suspicion that he will follow me around like lost puppy dog until I agree to go with him. As absolutely do not want to have Potter-shaped ball and chain for next month, will simply attempt diversionary tactics.

With this in mind, have convinced my army of Hufflepuff minions to ask Potty and the Weasel to ball. Have told them sob story about the two of them being secret lovers unable to go with each other for fear of immense ridicule. Hufflepuff minions have taken up mission with great aplomb.

12:32 p.m.
Have been staring at Beau during entirety of lunch, hoping he will look my way and notice what a sexy young thing I am. Is not so inconceivable, since Snape noticed, is it? Am determined to go stag to ball so as to demonstrate to Beau where my true feelings really lie. With his well-muscled chest and chiseled abs. Wish he would look at me. Look, damn you! Look!

6 p.m.
Have gone completely mad. Am made entirely ineloquent by own stupidity. Was walking back up to castle after Quidditch practice when Potter managed to accost me. Must admit, was my own fault. Underestimated my attractiveness, even while Quidditch-sweaty and wearing yellow and gold, my most unflattering colors.

"Esmie!" called Potter. "Esmerelda, wait up!" Did not wait up. Potter had to run to catch me, then had the audacity to stand in front of me so could not pass by without looking silly.

Raised one eyebrow disdainfully (have finally mastered that look with my new face) and tapped foot to demonstrate my extreme annoyance. "Well?" I snapped. "What is it?"

"I was hoping that... would it be possible at all... I was just wondering if..."

"For Merlin's sake, Potter! I haven't got all day to listen to you babble. Either spit it out or get out of my way, or you will not enjoy the consequences."

"Go to the ball with me?" Potter asked in a rush. He stared at me with big, puppy dog eyes, and really they were quite nice eyes when they weren't glaring at me with intense hatred, a nice shade of green, not nearly as pretty as mine of course, but still quite acceptable, and he looked so pathetic standing there, all hopeful and sad, as if he knew I was going to refuse before I even answered.

And then, the unthinkable.

"Alright then. I'm wearing silver, so be sure to dress accordingly."

No, dear Merlin, NO. In the name of all that is unholy and evil, what force of disgusting goodness compelled me to say those words? I blame the Hufflepuffs. Their appalling niceness has clearly infected me like some diabolical virus.

My army of Hufflepuff minions has clearly failed, and what's worse, they've managed, somehow, someway, against all laws of Merlin and man, to convert me. Is disgusting. Even more disgusting than finding self suddenly female. They will pay. Oh yes, they will pay.

10:05 p.m.
This is officially the worst day of my life. Not only did I completely ruin entire reputation by agreeing to go to ball with Potter, but am now bleeding. From my vagina. Is most disgusting, revolting... words cannot describe. Is, in fact, indescribable. Loathe being girl. Is confusing and scary and most of all, painful. Loathe. Loathe. Somehow, this must be all Potter's fault. He will pay for this. He and the minions both, or my name isn't Draco Malfoy. Oh, right. Damn it.