A/N: So here's a multi-chap RoseScorp fic for y'all. Enjoy!

And yes, he is supposed to sound like the world's biggest jerk.

Dear Diary,

Diary? Excuse me, but I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys don't write diaries. Merlin, no. We write man-journals. Yes, yes, as excited as you may be, don't get your knickers in a twist. This man-journal is extremely confidential. That means, in peon's terms, no screaming Scorpius-fangirl is getting her hands on this.

Now, to begin this properly.

I am Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy: Slytherin legacy, brilliant student, and most importantly, teen hottie of Hogwarts. Girls want me. Guys want to be me. The fact that I acknowledge this openly leads people to think I'm hotheaded. Egotistic. Thickskulled. And I one-hundred-percent agree.

But it's not like I have nothing to be proud of. I am gorgeous. Do you know how much Lysander, my mother's hair charmer, offered for my head of ice-blond hair? Do you want to venture a guess? Now take your little guess and add 400 galleons to it. That's how much he offered.

In addition to my swoon-worthy good-looks, I am incredibly smart. Head Boy? I got the letter in the mail months ago. I feel sorry for whoever got named Head Girl this year. She's going to have a hard time measuring up to me. Or rather, she's going to have a hard time attempting to measure up to me. And inevitably, there will be a smartass in this imaginary audience saying 'So what'? Gorgeous and smart are the typical Slytherin male package, no? My answer: duh. But how many gorgeous, smart Slytherins do you know with a famous father?

That's right, plebians. My father is the Draco Malfoy. The infinetely rich business tycoon, sole creator of Warlock Wives. I don't even know you very well, hypothetical readers, but I can pretty much hear green jealousy oozing out of your pores. And the answer your inevitable question is yes, it does rule to be me.

So you think you have me sketched out pretty well in your heads. If that's the case, then you must know that every insanely hunky hero needs a strange, scrawny little arch-foe to compete against in every possible thing that we can compete in. Unfortunately, this hunky hero is really lacking in the nemesis department. Because, you see, instead of a scrawny, misunderstood weakling competing agianst me, I get Albus.

No, not Albus Dumbledore. I'm talking here about Albus Severus Potter. Although cursed with what might be classified as the most unfortunate name in history, he was blessed with almost as much charisma, intelligence and beauty as me.

Almost.

He's got the good looks; his list of ex-girlfriends is only one or two away from tieing with mine. He's got the brains. Twelve owls. Twelve outstandings. But who's Head Boy? That would be me. Who's not? That's right. i think we can leave that question unanswered. But there's one more thing here, and it really does pain me to admit- his father is famous, too. Maybe even more famous than mine. Now here you are thinking, "No one in the world is more famous that Draco Malfoy,". And while I appreciate your flattery, I have to disagree.

Ever heard of Harry Potter?

Of course you have. Every poor creature on earth knows who Harry Potter is. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. The Defeator. Etc, etc, ad nauseum... He was born famous. And it really does take a special type of amazing to be born famous.

And who happened to be dear Harry's son other than Albus? So as fellow sons of legacies you'd expect us to be friends, right?

If you do, you're a moron completely oblivious to basic rhetorical strategies. Wow. I must be losing it. I'm insulting a reader that doesn't even exist.

But like I was saying, Albus and I compete in every last event, subject, area. We even try to get teachers to love us more. But I must say, no female teacher can resist a blond. Especially one as aristocratically handsome as me.

I've really done my father proud by hating the Potters.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention. Potters is plural. There are more. Albus honestly has more relatives than my mother has jewels. And need I remind you, we're rich.

The list is practically endless. Teddy Lupin. Victoire Weasley. James Potter. Lily Potter. Hugo Weasley. Dominique Weasley. Molly Weasley. Fred Weasley. Louis Weasley. Rose Weasley.

Rose Weasley. If Albus is a pain in the hindquarters, then Rose is a fucking hemorrhage. She inherited the Granger intelligence and the Wealsey charm. In other words, the only person teachers like more than me, is her.

I hear mother beckoning me for dinner. I swear, the last day before I leave for my last year at Hogwarts, and my mother goes and throws a celebration.

Regards,
Scorpius Malfoy

I know this was a short chapter. But he's still at home, so this is just an introduction.

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