Disclaimer – All of these delicious characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I do not own them, I am only borrowing them for a while, and not making any money from this site or the fanfiction on it. Please don't sue me – I promise I won't hurt them...much...

A/N – Okay, bear with me, guys, this is my first fanfiction, so be kind... There are varying points of view and I don't really know where it's going, so if there is something you wanna see, review and maybe your wish will come true...

Oooh, a slash warning here too...as I said I don't know where the story is going, but there is a possibility of slash (that's m/m pairing, for all you newbies to ff). If you don't like it, don't read it...

Lamia – Chapter 1

Draco POV.

August 25th

Opening Shot. Me, standing topless in front of the opulently gilded mirror in my private bathroom of Malfoy Manor. God! I look gorgeous!

Pale, ivory skin, not a blemish, not a mark, unspoilt, unbroken, perfect skin. It hasn't always been that way, but I guess I heal fast. My long blond hair is swept back and tied at the nape of my neck with a simple leather band. I prefer it long, easier to hide behind, if I so choose.

I've been working out, you can tell. My torso, once pale and skinny, whilst still being beautiful, or course, is now toned and shapely. I trace my hand over my chest, feeling it rise and fall with my breath. Yes, my skin is perfectly smooth, my muscles are toned, so that I am strong, but still remain...ah, what's the word? Refined. Yes, I like that. Draco Malfoy, sophisticated, elegant, refined. No-one would ever guess that I am a monster. That I am, against my will, a hunter, at the very top of the food chain.

I sigh, and look into the pair of grey eyes that stare back at me out of the mirror. They set off the whole effect, shimmering, catching the light and reflecting it back. My eyes roam again over the image before me. Exquisite. With a body like this I could have anyone I wanted. Anyone.

So tell me, my dear Draco, why do you want Harry Potter?

September 7th

Well, we've been back at school for a week now, and may I just say, my dearest Diary, it has been pure torture. I only want him, my green-eyed, raven-haired sex-god, because he's the last person in the world who would ever give in to me. Me!

Even if he knew the truth... knew what I was, he would never come willingly. And why not, I hear you ask, dear Diary. Am I not handsome? Am I not beautiful? With my silky blonde hair and my well formed body? Oh, I know I'm vain, but so what?! There are precious few in this world who would love me for who, no ... *what* I am.

And even if he knew, he would never understand. Humans can't cope with much. The most trivial things to me are like huge mountainous hurdles to them.

For example, he would never understand that there are some things that transcend sex. He's probably never even considered being with a man, let alone doing the things that I want to do to him.

But could I force him? No, it's not my way. I've seen those who've been forced, against their will...it destroys them in the end. Painfully.

But perhaps there is another way...