𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘

Chapter 2

The Secret Diary of Draco Malfoy: Aristocrat, Ne'er-do-Well, Rampant Homosexual.

Chapter 2: 7th September – 18th October.

Saturday 7th September.

Dear Diary,

I really am going to have to talk to someone about the quality of food provided by this school. I swear, everything that arrives at the table is crammed with saturated fat. Even the vegetables. I might have to have my meals specially-made if the overall standard remains this poor. I have my figure to think of!

At least we've started Quidditch practice now. They still haven't said who our first game will be against yet, and I really hope it's not Gryffindor. I need to have a bit more time to get over this stupid crush before I go up against Potter. Oooh... going up against Potter... There's a phrase which conjures up a thousand dirty images.

I saw him earlier, just after breakfast. My stomach always does this stupid somersault every time I catch sight of him these days. I don't know what's wrong with me. I mean, I never get like this over a guy! I'm always really cool and confident because I know that whoever it is I want will be putty in my hands. Oh, maybe that's it. Maybe I'm like this because I know that Potter will never be interested in me. That's depressing.

Urgh, he was talking to Weasley's sister when I saw him. He was laughing, and she was flicking her hair about and hanging off his arm like the silly bint she is. Not that I've ever spoken to her. I wish I could say that she's as unfortunate as her older brother, but sadly this is not the case. I mean, obviously the feminine charm is lost on me, but even I can tell that she's not entirely grotesque. A bit of a tramp by all accounts, but then that's usually considered a good thing. And Harry does seem to really like her. Oh, if they end up going out together I'll be seriously pissed off. Everyone at school needs to recognise that despite the fact that we have never spoken a civil word to each other, he hates the sight of me and we are separated by the barrier of sexual orientation, Harry Potter is mine and they had better stay away if they know what's good for them.

Monday 9th September.

Dear Diary,

I purposely banged into Harry when leaving Potions today and he looked right at me. It was the best thing that's happened to me all week – not only did I get some actual physical contact, I was also treated to some close-up 'Potterglare' action. Of course, I wish that our moments together could be a bit more positive, but hey, I'll take whatever I can get.

The weird thing is that I can't even pinpoint exactly when this thing with Harry started. I'm positive that in the beginning I really did think that he was just an irritating twit who stole all the glory that should have been mine. The irritation quickly turned into obsession and it wasn't long before there was very little I thought of besides how I might get the better of Harry Potter. I think the real moment of revelation didn't actually come until last year. I suppose I'd been in denial. I mean, I developed a deep loathing for Cho Chang when they were going out back in fifth year, but again I just thought that was because I hated anything and everything associated with Potter. It didn't occur to me until later that I hated the people close to Harry because I wanted to be close to him too and I was jealous.

When I finally realised the truth, Harry was predictably wearing his Quidditch uniform. It was after a Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw match, and Harry was leaving the pitch with the rest of his team. I was glowering at him hatefully, but then he turned back to say something to Weasley and he smiled and tossed his hair out of his eyes, and I just knew. God, it was a bitch. I realised that I wanted Harry Potter more than I'd ever wanted anyone, and I'd spent the whole of our acquaintance doing all I could to make him hate me. I think that's what finally drove me into the sinewy arms of Blaise Zabini. It was a consolation shag. And it wasn't terribly consoling.