To say I am blessed by mighty and awesome powers is to be repetitive. I reign as the most feared creature this world has ever known. Oh, the muggles don't know me, but their narrow perception and puny forces hold no challenge, therefore their ignorance means nothing. Yet, in the wizard world, my name sends shivers upon seizures of horror. I am called such various vague descriptions as "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named". The fools! As though their uttering of my true name would suddenly cause my appearance in their pathetic, little worlds. I once ruled the wizard world through fear and dread. My beloved followers only needed but a whisper of a command and my wishes were carried out with speed and fury. Wizards and witches alike hid from my wrath, as if I wouldn't be able to find them. I always did. Powerful and weak wizards alike were not safe from my rage. All those who mixed with muggles, who protected muggles, who were HALF muggles-they all deserved to suffer. Houses were ransacked, the air was alive and riddled with screams and cries for help, for mercy, for DEATH. I granted mercy to no one and instructed my followers to do the same. Young and old MUDBLOODS were tortured and killed. Aurors were also punished for their audacity and stupidity.

Ah, but I trifle with the insignificant details.