sparks~drarry

The Journal

Description: Draco finds Harry's diary, and fumes with jealousy as he reads Harry's description of his crush.... (Third person)

Warnings: Swearing

Song: Jealous by Nick Jonas

Length: 900 words
__________________________

Draco ran a finger over the leather diary, pausing on the delicate golden script that decorated the cover.
It read something in Latin, and, even though he believed he had an extensive knowledge of the language, he couldn't figure out what it meant.
He flopped down onto his bed and opened the diary with a small smirk.
Harry's Journal. Please return if found.
Draco's smile widened.
A chance to find out Potter's biggest secrets? Yes please.
And, thus, he turned to page to the first entry.
September Second
Is it possible to be in love with someone you're supposed to hate?
Ha, I suppose it is, considering my predicament.
But I just can't help it.
After all, who cannot love his moonlit hair and those eyes?
Oh, those eyes.
What color are they?
Purple, blue, gray?
Goddamnit. This is sounding way to cheesy (and romantic.... Not my problem, though, after all, I can't have a crush on him).
And, anyway I'm supposed to like Ginny, so-
The words suddenly cut off.
Draco's heart leapt into his throat as he reread those words, once, twice, and only stopped when envy caused his lungs to stutter.
The sudden jealousy of this mysterious person with hair like moonlight frightened him, but he turned the page anyway, his pale hand quivering against the yellowed paper as he read.
September Third
Why is he such as asshole?
I mean, even though I do treat him like utter shit, why do we treat each other badly?
Sure, his father may be a death eater, and we may be in rivaling houses, but I still don't understand why me must continue this ridiculous feud.
It's sixth year. We are no longer young children, so why do we act as if we are?
Who the Hell did Potter treat badly?
Draco could make a list in his head, and even as he listed off the people he knew, he realized that there weren't many people - much less those of the male species - that Potter treated badly.
Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, and himself.
Who else was there?
Unless Har-Potter was bullying any of the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, or Hufflepuffs (which Draco seriously doubted), there wasn't anyone else he could think of.
Furrowing his pale brows, Draco continued onto the next page.
September Fourth
Why the Hell do I write in this goddamn book?
I mean, yes, it does feel nice to let all my rage loose in the form of ink darker than Voldemort's nonexistent soul, but, seriously.
Anybody could find this.
Anybody.
Including him.
If he did find it, he'd probably make fun of me for liking guys. Scratch that; He'd undoubtedly make fun of me.
Why does ____ have to be such an arse?
Draco frowned at the empty spot, absolutely, one hundred percent curious of whose name was supposed to be there.
For a moment, he debated whether he should return the small diary to Hogwart's Lost and Found, which is infamous for loosing things, and before he could do so, he stuffed the book in his bag and stormed off.

Meanwhile, Harry glared down at his homework, his grip tight around his quill.
"Er, Harry?" Hermione nudged him, a small smile playing on her lips.
He whipped his head towards her.
"Hmm?"
"This is sort of random, and I understand if you don't want to answer, but..."
"But what?"
"Do you like anybody?"
Harry went completely still, his mind immediately conjuring up images of moonlit hair and lavender eyes....
No!
"No." He snapped, voicing his thoughts. Apparently, his words were full of venom, because Hermione muttered something (angrily, may I add) under her breath before turning back to her lengthy book.
"Potter?"
Harry stiffened even more as Draco's silky voice reached his ears.
Shit.
"What?" He snarled, and when the silver haired boy revealed himself by stepping out from behind one of the library's bookshelves, Harry's face flushed red.
"Oh, nothing." Draco drawled before placing Harry's journal on the table.
The raven haired boy's face drained of all color.
"So, who is it?"
"I-I don't know what you're talking about."
Shooting a venomous look at Harry, Hermione stood, muttering "Knew it." under her breath before storming out of the library.
Quivering with anxiety, Harry slowly turned back towards Draco.
Eyeing where Hermione had been, Draco said, "Yes, I think you know exactly who I'm talking about. Who is it? A Gryffindor? Hufflepuff? Slytherin?"
At the last word, Harry blushed furiously, and a triumphant (and attractive) smirk blossomed on Draco's face.
"Hmm, so, who is it? Pansy?"
Immediately, Harry snorted.
"Um, no, gross."
"Millicent?"
"Are you stupid?"
"Is your crush a bloke?"
At that, Harry went completely still, his mouth seeming to be screwed shut.
Draco smirked.
"So, it is a bloke, then. Do you like Blaise? No?" He drawled, and when he leaned in close, his warm breath fanned out over Harry's cheek, sending chills down the raven haired boy's spine.
"N-no."
"Is it me, Potter?"
No comment.
Harry watched with wide, green eyes as Draco suddenly smashed his lips onto his, and, almost immediately, they separated.
"So it is me, then." Draco gasped, and leaned against the table, his face flushed as though he had just run a marathon.
"Yes." Harry whispered. "It is you."
And then, to his complete and utter surprise, Draco smiled, thus lighting up those constantly shifting eyes.
"Good. Because I like you too."