A/N: All dates for this, and actually any of my stories, are found at the Harry Potter Lexicon. This is probably going to be a one shot. . . the result of too much free time at work. Read on. . . if you dare.

25, June 1995

Dear Diary,

I am at wits end. How on earth does he do it? HOW?!? I am the most evil and feared wizard in a century. . . possibly the most evil and feared wizard ever, and yet, this. . . this. . . boy. . . continues to foil my most dastardly plans!

Okay. Calm yourself, Voldemort. Lets look at this rationally and objectively. How does Harry Potter escape from your grasp every time?

1. Inept Henchman.

True. They really are a bunch of blundering idiots, aren't they? I leave for ten years and look what they've done to the organization. No cohesive bonds any more. No true leadership among them. Lucius tries, but he can be a bit over zealous. He does mean well, and he is a good face to put forth for company. Can you imagine if I left Pettigrew to bring in new recruits? I shudder at the thought. Besides, Narcissa makes those scrumptious cinnamon biscuits. . .

Must get back on track. More reasons. More reasons.

2. Outside help.

The annoying little pillock keeps getting assistance from everyone and their dog. Between his ubiquitous friends, centaurs, alchemists, talking hats, werewolves, teachers, house elves, bloody magical birds, and even Godric Griffindor (may he rot), how am I expected to keep up? I am, after all, only one man.

Fine, fine, I'm not really a "man" any more per se, but you know what I mean.

Oh, damnation. More reasons.

3. Gloating over my enemy before he is dead.

I should know better by now, but ye gods, if it isn't hard not to gloat over his puny body when I have him in my grasp. From now on I shall try to remember that gloating only gives him time to escape. Ooooh! I'll make it my new mantra.

I will not gloat over Harry Potter until he is dead at my feet.
I will not gloat over Harry Potter until he is dead at my feet.
I will not gloat over Harry Potter until he is dead at my feet.

4. Explaining myself to my enemy before he is dead.

See, this coincides with the above problem about gloating over him. I should know better. I have seen countless villains down at the club who have foolishly let the hero win the day, simply by explaining their plans to the hero while the hero is alive and bound at their feet. There we go! From now on, no more explanations until he is dead. Then I can explain my wonderful evilness to his corpse.

Anyway, must go for now. Pettigrew has informed me that it's tea time and that Narcissa has popped over. I wonder if she brought the cinnamon biscuits with her. . .

Love,

Voldie