This story is narrated through each person¡¯s diary, and it mostly deals with ¡®normal¡¯ teen stuff, not some really magical things. I thought even teenage witch and wizards deal with these stuff, don¡¯t you think? I thought it would be much more realistic than writing about a beautiful American transfer student whom either Harry or Ron falls in love with (Oh nooooo! I didn¡¯t even think about writing that!) Well, please check it out. This time we have Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, and Dudley Dursley (they rhyme! whatever) dealing with their problems. Next time, we¡¯ll have other characters, like Ron, Hermione, and Harry, with their own issues, and I¡¯ll progress on with everyone else.

***** None of the characters belong to me. (How unfortunate)

Teen Issues

Draco Malfoy

That damned bastard who calls himself my dear father wrote to me again for the 3^rd time this week. And it¡¯s only Tuesday, can you believe? Ah, all he says in those trash letters are I should conduct myself as the last prominent Malfoy heir, and how I should never ever interact with Mudbloods and Mudblood lovers, like Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

As if I listen to him. I used to trust him and do everything he told me to, but that was when I was a kid. Now I¡¯m my own man, and I¡¯m just sick of that ass* telling me what to do, what to wear, what to eat, what to read, what to say and thousands of more silly, **prominent** stuff. I¡¯ve already got enough troubles going on for me without that old fraud bickering in his annoying letters, which, by the way, have all been ripped into tiny pieces and thrown in to the fireplace.

My no.1 concern right now is my bitchy girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson. Damn I almost had sex with her last night! She was already giddy and all giggling with her wine, which is, of course, strictly prohibited at Hogwarts. She forced me on her four-poster bed, and started to unbutton my shirt. When I finally caught her and yelled at her, she started to sob. I felt so awkward that I put my arms around her. That was when things started to get nasty. She suddenly pulled my face (I was tricked—I should¡¯ve known better) toward her and with this great vigor, and forced her tongue into my mouth¡¦Yuck. I had to pull a sleeping charm on her to get away from her. The most revolting moment of my life. I wish I could sue her for sexual harassment and rape (not exactly rape, but this definitely counts as rape), but I don¡¯t want everyone nosing into this business. Especially my **dear** father.

I add this. I will NEVER, EVER sleep with that sex maniac. I¡¯m saving myself for the right girl------It sounds really melodramatic for a Malfoy (in fact, if Father heard that, he¡¯d practically disown me or something) but I feel really strong about this. And there IS this girl¡¦

Ginny Weasley

I spend days and nights, thinking about him. I thought it was just a silly old crush, but my best friends say I¡¯m madly in love. Who should have known this would happen to me, Arthur and Molly Weasley¡¯s well-protected little girl¡¦but right now, I just wish one thing. And it¡¯s not Harry coming to confess his love for me, because that¡¯s too fake.

I¡¦. I just wish that my parents were a little richer. Of course, after my older brothers graduated from Hogwarts, it has been much easier for Mum and Dad, but I still can¡¯t afford any of those pretty, elegant robes Parvati, Lavender and Hermione have. I¡¦ I must sound really spoilt, for I should be grateful that I don¡¯t wear second-hand robes like all my brothers did, but I¡¯d really love to have a fancy robe of my own. Hermione, my brother Ron¡¯s girlfriend, used to let me borrow some of her robes that fit, and I used to borrow from her. But that was before Ron made me realize how shameful it was.

¡® Don¡¯t you get it, Gin? They¡¯re staring at you not because you look pretty but because they can¡¯t believe you own these expensive robes!¡¯

I still remember the exact words Ron hissed at me that night, after returning from Hogsmeade. I was so red, so mad. It felt like a loved one stabbed me with a sharp, hurting knife. I yelled at him there, right there in the middle of our common room. I just didn¡¯t care if anyone listened or stared.

¡° Is it so wrong to try to fit in?¡± I screamed, not particularly to Ron, but probably to everyone else and myself, with tears streaking down my very flushed cheeks.

¡° Is there a law that poor people can never be good looking, attractive? People always gossiped behind my back, about my dirty, cheap robes, accessories, and I wanted to feel different for once. Is that so horrible?¡±

I ran up to my dormitory. I didn¡¯t look back.

I cried and cried that night, out of anger, humiliation, and self-pity. I didn¡¯t think borrowing clothing from my friend was that awful. But I knew Ron was right, too. Of course, the incident had spread all over the school. And for a few weeks, I couldn¡¯t even look at anyone, even my own best friends. I¡¯ve always wondered what Harry and Hermione thought of me after that night. And I still do, even though no one mentions it anymore. I want to know what Harry probably thought, when I showed off wearing one of Hermione¡¯s robes in front of everyone. I guess I must have looked really pitiful then¡¦. Damn¡¦I hate being poor.

Dudley Dursley

My parents found a pack of cigarettes in my dumb cousin Harry¡¯s room. They¡¯re so mad that Harry¡¯s just about to get killed as soon as he gets back from his freak school. My mum, Petunia Dursley, looking particularly like that nasty old witch from Snow White and Seven Dwarfs (Which, by the way, is my all-time favorite movie), was screeching in her most hideous voice;

¡° That nasty little rat actually SMOKES! I KNEW it! It¡¯s all from that good-for-nothing horrible school! What if there had been a fire, and our house burnt down?¡±

My dad, Vernon Dursley, was looking purpler then ever. He was endlessly punching my old Bugs Bunny doll with his humongous fist, which unfortunately became my dad¡¯s victim today. I stifled my giggle, and went upstairs with my Doritos and M&Ms, leaving them at it.

Ha! Of course Harry doesn¡¯t smoke. He can¡¯t even afford to, anyway. At least from all I know, he hates cool smokers. And he¡¯ll hate me even more if he knew that I smoked, and that I planted the cigarettes under his bed. I know! Wasn¡¯t that SUPER smart? My best friend Polka Polkass (a/n was that the name? ¡¦ Uh I forgot) taught me how to do that one.

And it was him who introduced me to the world of smokers, too! He¡¯s such a great friend. He said, to lose some weight, you need to smoke, and you will lose several pounds. He sold me a new pack of Virginia Slims (a/n¡¦I know. LOL¡¦Dudley and Virginia Slims?!) for a dollar (a/n I don¡¯t know how the English pound system goes. Sorry!), and I¡¯ve been smoking Slims ever since.

We¡¯re gonna go smoking tonight. Polka Polkass¡¯s older brother¡¯s having a beer party. His brother is so cool. There will be so much food, like pizza, chicken, and hamburgers, and his brother¡¯s going to show us how to smoke marijuana. I hope I get to have a go.

A/n: Sorry I hope you didn¡¯t get any ideas when I mentioned Virginia Slims¡¦I don¡¯t smoke cigarettes! Nor marijuana. And I forgot whatever name of Dudley¡¯s friend. But I thought it sounded something like Polka ass, wasn¡¯t it? I hope you enjoyed reading it, and please review!