𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘

Chapter 4

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

Chapter 4: 12th November – 17th December.

Wednesday 13th November.

Dear Diary,

Pansy and I have just got back from the library – our Transfiguration essays are finally finished and ready to hand in tomorrow. I don't think mine is as good as I would've liked it to be, due to my extenuating circumstances. It's very hard to concentrate on anything other than this horrible thing with Harry and Blaise right now. It can't last between them, can it? I mean, they're just so different. Harry is sweet and noble and kind, whereas Blaise is... Blaise. He forms a category of hideousness all of its own. He must be putting on an act for Harry, pretending to be a better person than he actually is. Harry is so green; he would fall for something like that.

Pansy has been very understanding. It helps that she's going through something similar, though her situation is nowhere near as bad as mine, obviously. She's had a crush on Theo Nott for over a year now, but he's never paid any attention to her. The trouble is that she's too shy to approach him about it because she's sure he'll turn her down. Hmm... I know the feeling. It's good to have someone to moan to, anyway.

At least she has something to be happy about: she's just heard that she's definitely going into St Mungo's over Christmas to get her nose fixed. I have to say, I'm happy for her. As much as I love the girl, she does look as if she ran into a wall as a small child.

Saturday 16th November.

Dear Diary,

Pansy and I went into Hogsmeade today to do a bit of Christmas shopping. We had lunch with Vince and Greg, but it all got a bit too much when they started feeding each other bangers and mash. Pans and I had to make a swift get-away. Urgh.

We saw Harry and Blaise wandering around together, which was a kick in the crotch if ever there was one. Granger and Weasley looked almost as unhappy as I felt about the whole situation. They were trailing behind the happy couple, faces like thunder. I'm sure I saw Weasley's hand going for his wand a couple of times before Granger held him back. For once, I was completely on his side. Blaise was wittering on about something moronic, and Harry was just ambling along beside him. I have to say that he didn't look terribly ecstatic, but maybe that's just my wishful thinking.

Why is Harry Potter such an idiot? Surely he can see that Blaise isn't good enough for him. Maybe if I keep on being nice to him, he'll see that he's picked the wrong Slytherin. Harry should be mine, and we should be together. End of story.

Sunday 17th November.

Dear Diary,

It was the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff Quidditch match today, and Gryffindor won. Harry looks so sexy when he's flying. To be honest, I think that's why I've always lost to him – I was too busy checking him out to look for the Snitch. I love watching Harry play; it's like poetry in motion.

My pleasure was tainted somewhat by the fact that Blaise had chosen to show up adorned in Gryffindor rosettes and carrying a banner which read 'GO GRYFFINDOR! HARRY AND BLAISE 4EVA!' It was disgusting – even the students supporting Gryffindor were giving him disdainful glances. I have to say, Harry didn't look too happy about it either. He waved and smiled at Blaise as the team left the field, but I couldn't help but notice that he seemed rather embarrassed by the whole display.

I amused myself throughout the match by charming small insects to fly at Blaise's head. He was flapping around like an idiot for most of the time. He really is an moron – I was standing right behind him, but he never guessed that it was me doing it. I told him that the bugs must have been attracted to his rancid cologne. Where the hell did he get that stuff? He claims that it's from an exclusive Swiss boutique and that it's full of aphrodisiacs. Now, this proves two things about Blaise. One – he obviously feels the need to cover himself in hormones to ensure that anyone stays around long enough for him to shag them. Two – he is enough of an idiot to believe some yodelling goatherd who tries to convince him that this concoction really does contain aphrodisiacs and isn't, in fact, made of Hinkypunk urine. I don't know how Harry can stand it.