Oh dear. At first, I thought the boy thing was good. Then I saw who I was and I nearly shrieked the dorm down. Then I realised I was in a room full of boys who really smelt! I didn't understand until I saw my reflection. I'd BECOME Draco Bloody Malfoy! Of all the stupid people! And now Lisa is in love with Draco when she's meant to be going out with me, and Harry Potter is shallow because he doesn't like me as THIS MONSTER and it's not my bloody fault! Ronald is an insensitive git and I should've told him WEEKS ago! And although Professor Snape is a good friend and all, he and Professor Lupin alike are getting on my nerves. Have they any idea what they're doing to my spherephinxiodes?! No! DIDN'T THINK SO! Everyone hates me and all I've done is switched bodies with someone without knowing! No wonder Malfoy's such a big bloody HAIRY prat.

Current Mood: sick

I hate Valentine's Day, personally. Not that that wasn't obvious. What is there to even like about it? It's that oh-so-special time of year when chocolate manufacturers and greetings card companies encourage you to demonstrate the extent of your fondness for another in cold, hard galleons. HOW TEMPTING. I think I'll just head right on out at this exact moment to waste my time! In short, I chose to ignore it and am rather disappointed that the school did not follow my lead in the matter.

I feel a great swell of pity for those who thought I would appreciate their tokens of love left upon my bedside table. Crabbe and Goyle enjoyed them and extend their thanks. Unfortunately, it didn't end there. Everywhere I went, every class I took, all the other students did was yack about who they gave chocolates to, made comparisons between what they received last year in comparison to this, and generally made a general annoyance of themselves. Of course, a great feast was presented to us in the evening, along with pathetic festivities as they celebrated in the common room. The only thing that stopped me from hexing each and everyone single one of those daft bastards was the fact that I had reached the climax of the novel I had been reading and did not feel like interupting it in order to stomp down the stairs and bless those with what curses they had deserved. Luckily they gave up on it before bed.

Current Mood: discontent

( Private. Hex-locked against all except the Slytherins, sans Pansy. )

Current Mood: accomplished

This is the repayment I get for completing my Prefect duties, rather than neglect them as so many others tend to do. I had been finishing my rounds of the hallways when I spotted a pair of male students fleeing from the boys' lavatory on the second floor, across from the one inhabited by Moaning Myrtle. Feeling a might bit curious, I took a peek inside to see if they had been up to any sort of mischief. Low and behold, what do I spot tucked away in the corner? A bubbling cauldron, giving off the most putrid fumes that I have ever had the misfortune to smell! Of course, like the wonderful and perfect member of the community I am, I disposed of the mess, rather than have others exposed to it, and dropped off the cauldron to the Potions classroom before turning back to head to the evening's feast. What I earned for my 'good deed' was watery eyes, a fever, a running nose and one truly terrible cough. It would seem that the fumes have given me the flu. I am not pleased in the slightest. Happy Christmas, indeed. When I catch those prospective pranksters, I will be sure to send them straight to Professor Snape.

It makes me wish that I had returned home, where this most certainly wouldn't have happened. I can't say that there would be much to return to this year, however, what with Father here in the school, bed-ridden and unable to even converse due to the fact that he tends to fall right back asleep after replying only once. Mother, obviously, has journeyed here as well to attend to him, leaving Malfoy Manor to sit empty, tended to by ignorant servants. I have not seen Mother much, save for when I just happen by the infirmary on my rounds and catch a glimpse of her at his side, mopping his forehead. It pains me to see my father, the great Lucius Malfoy, confined to such. It leaves me distraught to see him in a state of such weakness. ...Such vulnerability. Malfoys should never be reduced to that state. They should not be bed-ridden. And then there's Mother, who looks ever so pale at his side, so worried. ...Absolutely ridiculous.

While I'm not happy about my predicament, I do see some personal benefit in it. The only good I can see coming from this flu and my suffering is the fact that, should it last long enough, I may be able to get out of attending the wretched Winter Ball that everyone will not shut their faces about. I was told by Pansy that regardless if I felt like going or not, I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. After all, she had been 'kind' enough to find me a date. No, it is not Potter, for those of you who are stupid enough to believe those cock and bull rumors. Anyways, now, I have a valid excuse to decline, again, if this illness lasts for more than just a few days. It is unfortunate that in the event that I am unable to attend, I will lose out on making a demand from her in future, as she does owe me, but I'm sure there will be ample opportunities in time where I may garner something similar from her. Come to think of it, perhaps this flu will be useful in excusing me from keeping that appointment with Chang. ...Oh, how that four-poster marked as mine in the Ravenclaw seventh year boys' dormitory looks tempting. It's almost as though it calls out to me, beckoning me to sleep. My eyes sting and my throat feels quite swollen. I think I will do just that: sleep.

Current Mood: sick

I do hope that Miss Parvati Patil is quite satisfied with her one week of detention with Professor Snape for her lack of manners and treating a Prefect with disrespect. I have Madam Pince as a witness, should any of you simpletons possess any qualms with this arrangement. Perhaps that will teach her that in future, one must behave respectfully to those in positions of authority, for example: myself, Draco Malfoy. Pity that that good for absolutely nothing but the world absolutely adores him anyways Potter stormed out before I could hand him one as well, but I digress. There may just be another time to do so before the end of the school year and graduation is upon us. In fact, I happen to be counting on it, what with Potter's disregard for the rules and his obvious retardation. However, regardless and continuing on, I'm quite sure Professor Snape would have truly enjoyed having two students to put to work doing menial chores in the Potions classroom. My most sincere apologies to him for not being able to provide such.

Current Mood: content

First, there was that ridiculous Magical Idol junk and now, well, this. Had there truly been some sort of occasion, such as the Triwizard Tournament, I could see the point, but there is none. I see no reason to grace the Great Hall with my presence; as if such an event will really ease all of our minds and raise spirits in these trying times. I do see that some simpletons are easily pacified, however. Aside from that, perhaps I will head out and practice on the Quidditch pitch for a bit.

Speaking of Quidditch, I do believe that Crabbe and Goyle are the most uncoordinated pair of clods on a broomstick that I have ever had the misfortune to lay eyes upon. I'd be willing to bet that someone with leprosy would probably be more efficient in the graceful art of flying. For those of you who happen to be so blissfully ignorant of such exceedingly difficult terminology, I will kindly oblige your obvious lack of knowledge and enlighten you by saying that it is a chronic disease caused by the Mycobacterium Leprae, usually resulting in deformities, eventual paralysis and the wasting of the muscles. Don't say I never taught you imbeciles anything.

While I find myself occasionally questioning Montague's judgements, I can't deny that, coordination abilities aside, they are... effective, in some ways. I doubt any other Slytherin beater would be quite so keen on belting Potter with a bludger after the snitch has been caught. They just don't seem to realize that he truly does deserve it. Why would ickle Potter deserve such a thing, you say? How about just for existing. Seems like a good enough reason to me. Don't like it? Going to cry about it like the snivelling little prat you most certainly are? Toss off, I'm not interested in listening to your supposed 'reasoning'.

Current Mood: cranky

I can't believe it. Is everyone still going on about that ridiculous Magical Idol tripe? Speaking of which, of all people, I figured that Crabbe and Goyle would at least have enough sense not to give in, but it's rather apparent now that I have obviously misjudged them, despite knowing both for numerous years. Seeing those two dunderheads jump around in attempts to 'dance gracefully' does happen to be quite amusing, I'll admit, but hearing them attempt to sing is deafening. It's like listening to a bunch of unconscious trolls snore off-key.</dl>

As they both seem quite so keen on practicing, I do believe that I will be avoiding the dormitories for the time being. It seems as though the Ravenclaws and my fellow Slytherins also have the exact same idea. None of them, apparently, want to even approach the staircase out of completely justified fear, or even hang about the common room. No, I certainly do not blame them at all. I do wonder where Blaise went, however. I haven't seen him since the Hogsmeade weekend, where we put the poor little Weasley into her proper place.

Current Mood: cranky

( OOC. )

Current Mood: amused

( Private. Hex-locked against all except the Slytherins. )

Current Mood: discontent

My father, Lucius Malfoy, is the new Defense Against The Dark Arts professor. While it came as a surprise, at first, I do believe that he will be far more fit for the position in comparison to the other dunderheads that have been instructing us. Gilderoy Lockhart and Remus Lupin, anyone?

( Private. )

My stay in the Ravenclaw common room has, so far, been barely tolerable. Majority of them stay out of my way and those who don't respond quite well to threats. When it comes to the sleeping arrangements, I must thank Merlin for having Crabbe and Goyle around. While they're both so incredibly thick that it's ridiculous, they're imposing enough that none of the Ravenclaw seventh year boys bothered to object, while they seemed quite unhappy, when I announced that three-quarters of the dormitory belonged to the Slytherins, for we are guests and deserve the best treatment from our hosts.

Either Crabbe or Goyle left their socks in the Slytherin dorm. Idiots. I'd better go speak with Professor Snape about it.

Current Mood: curious