A/N: Hello everybody who might read this. I hope you like this new story. Review if you want me to keep working on this piece. Although I haven't had much luck with my stories. I don't know what you people like, but the title also says something about myself. So yeah whatever. Enjoy.

Besides. Why is it that all you people like is slashes? And sex and drugs. I mean yes, I do enjoy reading about it once in a while but stories can be good without all that. (Right away).

Disclaimer: You know who the characters belong to. None of them belong to me. All to J.K Rowling. Yeah.

I Write For Me

June 6th: Journal Entry # 1

My mother gave me this journal to write in. What a birthday present. Sarcasm of course. I would've enjoyed a new firebolt much more. Besides. Father thinks this is an awful gift for a young man. He said it's a sign of weakness for a man to share any of his feelings with anyone. So…why am I writing in this journal? Damn. I would've really liked a firebolt…

10:40 P.M.

Draco Malfoy shut the small journal and put it's spell bound lock in place. The journal wouldn't open for anything. Not even the Dark Lord's worst curses. He smiled snuggly down at it. Now the gift wouldn't have gone completely to waste. He could tell his mother that he had written in it. The fact that he would never write in it again (or so Draco thought, that is,) would remain unknown to Narcissa Malfoy. He threw it absent-mindedly into his drawer on his nightstand and went to take a shower. Some fourteenth birthday this had been.

All Lucius Malfoy had given his fourteen-year-old son was a book of dark magic, which of course Draco had liked but a lot of the spells were too complicated for him to even dream of casting on anybody. At least that's what he told himself. Truthfully, Draco never really desired wreaking havoc upon fellow wizards. He had found himself thinking that he would chicken out before he could even think of using Avada Kedavra on anybody. Hurting, yes. But killing? Are you kidding?

July 9th: Journal Entry # 2

School starts next month. Great…Today my father told me I would be receiving my dark mark in two years time. This is good. This is very good indeed. He told me I would have to work extremely hard for it. I would have to master spells that I've never even heard of and learn how to use wordless magic. It sounds like some work so two years seems like a good amount of time. I just wish it were sooner. I believe I could be really useful when the Dark Lord rises again. Of course you know Potter's going to be right there when he does. Maybe he'll finally get what's coming to him. Ha, ha. We can only ho-

8:00 P.M.

Draco could hear Lucius' footsteps on the stairs. He quickly shut the journal and threw it into the drawer he kept it in. Lucius opened the door.

"Dinner's ready," he said sternly. Draco must have looked suspicious because Lucius got a questioning look on his face. "What are you doing in here Draco?" he asked, coming into the room a little further.

"Nothing," Draco said looking down at the black comforter on his bed. He had tried to train himself in the art of throwing Lucius off his trail. His father was like a hungry ravenous beast that smelled fresh meat over miles of land. Of course Draco Malfoy was no good at this. His father was a dragon, strong and intimidating. Draco always thought that a dragon should have baby dragons but instead, Lucius bred a rabbit. A weak little rabbit that a dragon could swallow whole, (with a fluffy little cotton tail).

"Don't lie to me boy," Lucius said. "Now I'm going to ask you again." Draco watched as his father reached into his robes, pulling out his wand.

Think fast!

"I was writing!" Draco blurted out. Wrong thing to say… "In the journal mum gave me. I was just writing a bit because I was excited about what you told me earlier and I wanted to remember the day. After all, father, it's not every day that you find out you're going to get the honor of serving the Dark Lord…"

Draco stared at his father hopefully. To his relief Lucius took his hand out of his robes, and his wand didn't come out with it.

"Yes, well, I'm glad that's important to you," Lucius said, his nostrils flaring slightly. "Although I don't know what kind of son your mother is raising. She's teaching you how to be soft."

Malfoy's were not supposed to share their feelings with anybody or anything. Not even a rock. That meant they most definitely were NOT supposed to put their thoughts in writing.

"Yes sir," Draco mumbled, although he had other thoughts rolling through his mind.

It was Lucius that had softened the youngest Malfoy over the years. His domineering presence had done all except make Draco strong. Really, the only thing Lucius did succeed in, was making Draco cower, with his tail between his legs (not literally,) when things became overwhelming. Draco tried to be strong though. That's all he could do.

August 10th: Journal Entry # 3

I'm on the train, at long last. I hate to admit it, but a tremendous weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. Life at home with father is nothing if not stressful. You always have to add up to him. You're constantly being compared to the other death eater's sons and I get tired of hearing how much stronger Crabbe is than me. How Goyle has quite a bit of potential. Blah, blah, blah. Tell me something I actually care about. Like, how Crabbe and Goyle are so much DUMBER than I am. I'm the brains behind our little operation. But nobody cares about brains. Perhaps I should bulk up and turn into a huge lard ass like the two of them. Perhaps then father would be proud of me.

Crabbe's already been rewarded with his dark mark. It's up to your parents to decide when you receive it. But Crabbe's father is just as dumb as Crabbe himself. I don't take that bit of information too personally. Father just wants me to be fully prepared for what lies ahead.

Potter and the two idiots he calls friends just passed by. Something very strange happened. I couldn't think of a single insult to throw their way. Perhaps I'm losing my touch. Eek! That's chilling. Why must I scare myself like this?

"Hey Ferret! What are you writing so enthusiastically about?"

Draco looked up to find Ronald Weasley standing in the door of his empty compartment. He leaned against the frame casually and waited for a reply. Draco just glared at him, shutting his journal with a quick snap. He set it aside and stood up.

"None of your damn business, Weasel. How about getting lost?" Draco asked advancing on him slightly. Weasel was alone. Draco glanced down the hall to find it completely deserted.

"Diaries are for pussies," Ron said simply. He then smirked evilly, a smirk almost worthy enough to be Malfoy's, and moved on towards the boy's lavatory after a curious glance in the direction of Malfoy's diary…excuse me JOURNAL.

Malfoy opened his JOURNAL again and finished his entry.

Note to self. Remember to make the Golden Trio's life HELL this year. The Weasel shall pay for his nosiness. Ha ha.

9:00 A.M.

A/N: Whispers: Ron wants to get his hands on Draco's Journal…Please Review.

By the way, if you're going to leave me a hate review, be a man and don't do it anonymously. That's the pussy way to do it.