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From the Desk of one H.J. Potter

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any part of the HP universe. This story is only written for the purpose of enjoyment and to satisfy my own twisted obsession with the HP characters. I am not making any type of profit off this story and no copyright infringement is intended against J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic, etc and whoever else is lucky enough to own part of the HP franchise.

Warnings: This story includes reference to both het and slash pairings, so be warned. Also, this story will contain lots of UST, adult language, inappropriate fantasies, voyeurism, possible recreational drug use and alcohol abuse, and a somewhat OCC extremely sexually frustrated Harry.

 

From the Desk of one H.J. Potter

By: Harry James Potter (with a little help from Icicle)

*Author's Note: If it isn’t clear the italicised text represents Harry’s journal writings and the ::: indicate a break in certain entries that Harry decides to continue at a later point. Therefore, any other text that isn’t italicised can be read as either Harry’s thoughts or Harry’s mumblings to himself. I guess that depends on whether or not you question his sanity after the whole Voldemort fiasco. Also, I am aware that there are grammatical errors present in this fic, but since it is Harry’s journal I figured that he would be far from neat and not too particularly worried about using proper grammar. Now, if I were writing Hermione’s journal, it would be another story. Perhaps if this goes well, that will be a task for another day.

This is not meant to be serious, so if you’re looking for a little humour, sappiness/fluff, and don’t mind a little OCC then enjoy.

:::O::::::O::::::::

Prologue:

Years after defeating Voldemort, Harry has not lost any of his popularity or status in the wizarding world. Even after coming out of the closet and a string of failed relationships with both sexes, Harry remains England’s most sought after and eligible bachelor. Harry could have anyone he wants, but of course, he only has eyes for the one person who seems immune to Harry’s charms: a certain blond co-worker that isn’t impressed by Harry’s past heroics. Although Harry and Malfoy have gotten over their past aggressions and now have an amicable relationship, he just doesn’t seem to notice or reciprocate Harry’s feelings.

Harry is desperate to try to win him over, but has no idea how to court someone and definitely doesn’t want to risk pushing the blond away for good. Hermione thinks that Harry only wants Malfoy because he doesn’t fawn over Harry like everyone else does, but Harry insists that he has real feelings for the blond. Although she remains sceptical, Hermione sees just how desperate Harry has become, hence in an effort to help him sort through his feelings, she gives him a journal for his birthday.

What follows is a series of Harry’s ramblings and scribbles about his feelings and various failed attempts at courting one Draco Malfoy.

:::::::O::::::::::

~12 September 2004~

Dear Diary...

No, that doesn't sound right. Girls write in diaries and I'm not a bloody girl.

It's a journal.

Journals are manly.

That's right, this is my manly journal.

::::::::::::O::::::::::::::

Dear Diary Journal,

Hello, I'm Harry James Potter, Age 24.

 

No, that doesn't sound right either.

It's not like the stupid journal is going to talk back.

Well, hopefully not.

Besides, I don't need to introduce myself to inanimate objects.

God, why am I doing this anyway? I must be losing my mind.

You know why you're doing this, a small voice echoed in his head.

Okay Okay, get a grip on yourself.

Let's try this again.

This would probably be better anonymous anyhow.

:::::::::o:::::::::::::

~12 September 2004~

Dear Diary Journal,

Hello, I'm Harry James Potter, Age 24.

Anyway, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be writing in this thing, but Hermione gave it to me for my birthday weeks ago and I still haven't touched it. She keeps badgering me about whether or not I love the journal and how therapeutic the writing process can be.

Blah Blah Blah.

Don't get me wrong, I really do love Hermione, but sometimes she is a bit tiring. The real reason why I'm writing in here, has nothing to do with Hermione.

It has to do with you.

It's always been about you, hasn't it? Well, I'm not going to mention any names just in case this falls in the wrong hands, but I started to write in this because I just can't stand being around you anymore.

I don't know when things changed, but they did. They changed a lot.

Too much.

I can't put an exact date on it, but one day I just woke up and didn't hate you anymore. It was quite the opposite actually. One day, I'm not sure when exactly...it could've been yesterday, 2 weeks ago, 2 months ago, or perhaps even 2 years ago...but one morning when I saw you in the office drinking your coffee and staring out the window pensively, much like you do every morning—I just lost it.

All of a sudden, I started to notice how the sunlight reflects off your pale hair—how your grey eyes sparkle and grow wide, once you spot a fresh pot of coffee waiting in your office.

God, listen to me, I sound like a bloody lovesick girl. It's nauseating really. You would be disgusted if you knew how I felt about you.

Ever the maudlin Gryffindor, you would tease.

Or perhaps you would make some silly remark about how I should've been a Hufflepuff.

Ugh...perhaps this was a bad idea.

::::::::::::::o::::::::::::::::

Later that day...

Okay, perhaps I overreacted before.

So what, if my last entry was a little soppy?

It's not as if anyone else is going to read this thing anyway.

It's probably better that I get this over sentimental load of bollocks off my chest anyhow, rather than risk acting all lovesick in front of Malfoy.

If I'm going to win Malfoy over, it definitely won't be by gawking at him like some loved crazed school girl.

Let's give this another shot.

::::::::::o:::::::::::::::::::::

I don't know exactly when your insults stopped winding me up, but they did.

Every time you used to insult me, I used to want to slam you up against the nearest wall and hex the living daylights out of you. Now, when you insult me, your insults have an almost playful kind of tone, much more smirk and less sneer.

When I see that smirk, I no longer want to push you up against a wall.

Who am I kidding?

When you insult me, even teasingly, I still want to push you up against a wall...

I just have other reasons now that no longer involve hexing your bits off.

Now, I can think of much better ways to punish you for insulting me.

I am a very sick man.

 

::~Ink and writing are starting to get sloppy and mottled~::

 

Oh God, the next time you tease me, I'm just going to grab you and slam you up against the nearest wall…

Then I'm going to run my fingers through your silky hair and pin your arms behind your back so you can't get away.

When you get nervous, you bite down on your bottom lip, and I bet you think that no one notices.

But I do. I always notice. I notice everything about you.

What are you doing to me?

You always tease with those pouty lips and I can't take it anymore. Once I have you up against a wall, I'm going to suck so hard on that bottom lip of yours. I'm going to bite down hard until it bleeds…until you cry out in pain and pleasure…until you're the one who can't take it anymore.

Yes, you're going to be mine.

I need to mark you as mine. I'm going to mar the pale flesh of your neck...'til you scream…'til you melt in my hands…'til you cry out my name.

Oh god, yes--I need this so bad. I need you so bad.

Do you even know what you do to me?

 

::~Ink and writing are basically incoherent~::

 

Oh jeez, why does Malfoy do this to me?

I need to stop thinking about this NOW.

Oh Bugger, what was Hermione thinking giving me this journal?

I can't write in it, if it's going to have this effect on me.

Seriously.

Get a grasp on yourself, Harry.

Don't think about blonds.

Don't think about snogging.

Don't think about walls.

And definitely don't think about buggering.

 

::::::::::o:::::::::::::::::::::

30 seconds later…

 

Oh fuck it all, I need a wank.

 

::Runs off to wank in the shower::

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any part of the HP universe. This story is only written for the purpose of enjoyment and to satisfy my own twisted obsession with the HP characters. I am not making any type of profit off this story and no copyright infringement is intended against J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic, etc and whoever else is lucky enough to own part of the HP franchise.

Warnings: This  crack!fic includes reference to both het and slash pairings, so be warned. Also, this story will contain lots of UST, adult language, inappropriate fantasies, voyeurism, possible recreational drug use and alcohol abuse, and a somewhat OCC extremely sexually frustrated Harry.



***************************************************************************

Entry 2:

~16 September 2004~

Dear Diary Journal,


I know that I haven't written for a couple of days and I apologise about that, but after the unexpected ending of my first entry...

I was a little hesitant to write.

I think I have my emotions under control now and that won't happen again.

I hope.

Anyway, after what I will now refer to as 'the-shower-incident' that didn't really happen—let's just say—that it was a little difficult to face you in the office. I had to avoid you for the next two days because every time I saw you, especially with that new just shagged, I mean tousled hairstyle of yours, my trousers started to get uncomfortably tight.

It was rather embarrassing and I had to cancel two of my afternoon appointments in order to have a nice long wank.

Wank? Did I just say wank, I meant shower, silly me.

Seriously, I really meant shower. I swear. Showers are relaxing...


oOO

Anyhow...

After my nice long shower, I handled the rest of my afternoon meetings spectacularly. My clients had been so pleased with my enthusiasm, that they closed their deal right on the spot. I was feeling rather proud of myself, but then I saw you.

You strolled right by my office in your running shorts and trainers, all sweaty and red-faced. Apparently, you go running on your lunch hour.

Merlin's pants, how did I not know this?

Those running shorts are so tight, your arse just looks so...


::~Writing starts to become shaky~::

No, not again.

Fucking hell...

:::::::::::::::::::o::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

20 minutes Later...


[wipes sweat off brow]

Alright, see that wasn't so bad.

Everything is okay now.

Just don't think about running shorts.

You can do this, Harry.

You're the sodding boy who lived.

That's right.

Remember what Hermione said.

Take a deep breath...[inhales sharply]...okay good[exhales].

You're going to fight this.


:::::::::::::::::::o::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


Sorry about that, I just needed to...refill my inkpot.


Anyhow, there's something important I need to say. Yesterday, I had lunch with Hermione. I had been avoiding her owls for days, so yesterday she just showed up at my office and I couldn't escape her. Luckily, she brought indian with her as a peace offering, so I just couldn't stay mad at her. However, during our lunch date I tried to avoid the subject of this journal, but of course, Hermione being Hermione, she saw right through me and asked about it.

"You've been writing in the journal," she informed me. It wasn't a question, she just knew. How does she do that? She always knows everything.

"Uhh...yeah," I told her. "But...I don't know if journal writing is really my thing, Hermione." I tried to argue with her.

Obviously, I failed and she explained to me that it sometimes takes a while to get used to journal writing because it makes you feel vulnerable and defenceless. I don't know what she's talking about. I'm Harry J. Potter, conqueror of Voldemort, saviour of the wizarding world. I'm not vulnerable, am I?

No, that's not possible...

In any case, that's not that the important part. The important thing is that apparently Hermione has been keeping a journal since our first year of Hogwarts. Can you believe that? Sometimes, I swear that girl is mad. She claims it's the only thing that keeps her sane, but I'm not so sure about that...

Besides, it gets worse.

Hermione explained that she is tired of being my therapist and that she is no longer going to listen to any of my ramblings, especially the ones about Mal you. Can you believe her nerve? She's acting as if I prattle on about you all the time, she actually accused me of being obsessed with you. I think obsessed is a little strong, enamoured dearly or perhaps even highly infatuated, but not obsessed...definitely not obsessed. She claims that I'm in denial and that if I can't even be honest with my best friend, then she's no longer going to listen. I told her she didn't have to worry, that I would just find myself a new best friend to bother, but she quickly dismissed it and scolded me for interrupting her. She continued that as my best friend, she would never abandon me, and that she had found a way to help me come to terms with my feelings. What is her brilliant plan you might be wondering?

It's simple really, this journal is her brilliant plan.

Apparently, just like everything else she's ever given me, this isn't your ordinary journal. Although it looks like a normal muggle journal, Hermione altered it with a few modified truth spells, which do not allow the writer to lie in any way, shape, or form.

Kill me now

Seriously, although she means well, this time, she might have gone a bit too far. At least, now I know why I've been rambling like an idiot in this thing. When I first heard the news, I was furious. I was about to burn this journal and never think about it again, but for some reason, I couldn't. Perhaps she's right, perhaps it will be good for me to write down my feelings. Perhaps this journal is exactly what I need and it will actually help me in my quest of seducing you.

I think I have a plan, a plan that will ultimately get you in my bed, but more about that tomorrow. All this writing has exhausted me. I don't even think I wrote this much in school, not even for my potions essays. What's more, I think I need to stop writing before I start reminiscing about potions class.


You were always in my potions class.


You were a constant presence: annoying me, torturing me. In some ways, you were worse than Snape, but on the other hand, you were dead sexy with your hair all tied back, so you wouldn't spill anything on your precious locks.

Oh jeez, I need to stop now. I refuse to go there; instead I'm going to bed or maybe for a drink.


Until tomorrow journal...

~HJP