"He needed to concentrate on spying and not getting caught doing it, and besides, he was fairly certain (when he chose to admit it to himself during those strangely introspective hours between three am and four) that just under the surface crust of earthy sexual desire, hidden feelings about Potter were growing and spreading like ugly little potatoes. Love potatoes. They needed to be picked and mashed and not allowed to get any bigger or tastier just at the minute. He could plant more later, if he wanted to, but any further nurturing of this Potter thing and he’d have a flaming rampant potato epidemic to deal with. And that meant he should stay away and not risk fertilizing anything by accident."
that is by far one of my favorite metaphors ever.
(for those of you who didn't know, i like to read online fiction where harry potter and draco malfoy are in luuurve... its a strange habit, but one i am firmly committed to.)
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