(no subject)
I've excellent news for the ladies of Hogwarts. I have decided that Pansy Parkinson is no longer fit for my attention. The girl is, aside from a few other choice adjectives, a pathological liar.
She seems to be under the impression that we've been dating for years. Really. As though I would rope myself down to one girl for that long. You see, before we came to Hogwarts, Pansy and I were quite good friends. Eventually she developed interest in me, as one does, but as she began turning into a gothic person, I lost interest. Being the generous person that I am, I continued to wink at her occasionally. Evidently, she took that for dating. My, but it must be just terrible to be that deluded. Aside from recent weeks, the only time I granted Pansy the pleasure of being in my company since she began this darkness was the recent Bleu Ball.
As is seen, quite obviously, from this post, Pansy says, 'The hate that permeates these walls fortifies me until I see the blond bitch god, Draco, walk through the halls of Hogwarts tomorrow. I will attempt to sit next to him in Potions. does he, I wonder, like bondage? The blackest inky black angst in my heart would be made only the more ebony by knowing him more...' Now, really, does that sound like what someone's girlfriend of five years would say?
The girl is under a serious case of delusion. For years, she's fantasised about me, and ever since I charitably shined my 'light of darqueness' down on her by taking her to that wretched little Bleu Ball, she's thought it meant that we were dating. Of course, I can certainly understand why she would want to pretend she was dating me. I am, after all, a Malfoy.
However, I don't really appreciate being stalked. As you can see from an old poem Pansy wrote, she has been sitting alone in her dark room all year, until now. Yet she now wants to pretend she had a 'Malfoy boyfriend' for years. Really, can one get more shallow than this? Make believe isn't just for five-year-olds anymore, evidently.
As though I would disgrace myself by dating someone who looked like a wildebeast. I certainly would rather gouge my eyes out slowly than spend five years letting that pretentious thing hang off of my arm. And really, Pansy, years? We were ten. You should remember that Malfoys choose only the finest things they can get. We don't take the leftover scraps in the pig pen.
While I realise that one shouldn't just on appearance, Pansy has become really ugly.
Father has been telling me for quite some time that something's gone off with that girl, but, of course, being so busy as the Quidditch captain and Prefect, I could hardly be expected to remember her existence. I, like everyone else in the school, can't be bothered to notice her on a daily basis. Of course, with all of that white powder she wears on her face, it's no wonder everyone looks right through her. Have you ever noticed that she looks remarkably like the Grey Lady now? Dreadfully ghastly.
I feel rather betrayed, given that Pansy used to be perfectly sane. She, Millicent and I were associates for ages until this happened, and I rather resent the fact that she's become insane. Why doesn't anyone ever think of me?
My Father has always told me that women weren't good for anything, and I've always, of course, believed him. Pansy Parkinson is living proof of that.
In other news, Gryffindor Patil owes me a favour now. Ha ha ha.
She seems to be under the impression that we've been dating for years. Really. As though I would rope myself down to one girl for that long. You see, before we came to Hogwarts, Pansy and I were quite good friends. Eventually she developed interest in me, as one does, but as she began turning into a gothic person, I lost interest. Being the generous person that I am, I continued to wink at her occasionally. Evidently, she took that for dating. My, but it must be just terrible to be that deluded. Aside from recent weeks, the only time I granted Pansy the pleasure of being in my company since she began this darkness was the recent Bleu Ball.
As is seen, quite obviously, from this post, Pansy says, 'The hate that permeates these walls fortifies me until I see the blond bitch god, Draco, walk through the halls of Hogwarts tomorrow. I will attempt to sit next to him in Potions. does he, I wonder, like bondage? The blackest inky black angst in my heart would be made only the more ebony by knowing him more...' Now, really, does that sound like what someone's girlfriend of five years would say?
The girl is under a serious case of delusion. For years, she's fantasised about me, and ever since I charitably shined my 'light of darqueness' down on her by taking her to that wretched little Bleu Ball, she's thought it meant that we were dating. Of course, I can certainly understand why she would want to pretend she was dating me. I am, after all, a Malfoy.
However, I don't really appreciate being stalked. As you can see from an old poem Pansy wrote, she has been sitting alone in her dark room all year, until now. Yet she now wants to pretend she had a 'Malfoy boyfriend' for years. Really, can one get more shallow than this? Make believe isn't just for five-year-olds anymore, evidently.
As though I would disgrace myself by dating someone who looked like a wildebeast. I certainly would rather gouge my eyes out slowly than spend five years letting that pretentious thing hang off of my arm. And really, Pansy, years? We were ten. You should remember that Malfoys choose only the finest things they can get. We don't take the leftover scraps in the pig pen.
While I realise that one shouldn't just on appearance, Pansy has become really ugly.
Father has been telling me for quite some time that something's gone off with that girl, but, of course, being so busy as the Quidditch captain and Prefect, I could hardly be expected to remember her existence. I, like everyone else in the school, can't be bothered to notice her on a daily basis. Of course, with all of that white powder she wears on her face, it's no wonder everyone looks right through her. Have you ever noticed that she looks remarkably like the Grey Lady now? Dreadfully ghastly.
I feel rather betrayed, given that Pansy used to be perfectly sane. She, Millicent and I were associates for ages until this happened, and I rather resent the fact that she's become insane. Why doesn't anyone ever think of me?
My Father has always told me that women weren't good for anything, and I've always, of course, believed him. Pansy Parkinson is living proof of that.
In other news, Gryffindor Patil owes me a favour now. Ha ha ha.