My childhood was always full of the bleakest of memories, being alone on holidays, being alone everyday. There had been nothing that I had come to know as truly mine; days were spent merely wondering. Wondering about things in my past, wondering about the unknown. When my letter and admission to Hogwarts had finally come to me, it was like I had finally awoken from the nightmare...

But each summer I was sent back to that nightmare, and each time I always returned back to the dream. It went on an on, endlessly, it was almost intolerable. I could not stay in the dream; I could not stay even if I pleaded on my very knees. My heart, I can feel it inside of me as it grows darker, always in the shadow. As I slowly rise to my full strengths, as I finally realize the powers that I could possess.

I keep waiting, waiting for an opportune moment to show my power. Whether it be discarding of the weak or praising for the powerful. There are so many who are weak here in my dreamland. I can't decide how to rid them of my world, how to make them vanish. There is one in particular that I can not stand at all, could never stand. Hagrid I believe it is. A large boy, a half-breed. It sickness me that he is allowed to walk among us, the wizards, the cunning and the strong.

Today he broke a mirror we were supposed to be transforming into a bat today in Transfigurations. I took the opportunity to tell him exactly how I felt. That he could never amount to anything more than a half-witted half-breed now with seven years of bad luck to top it off. The teacher never heard, never silenced me at all. The rest of the class mocked him with smart wit as he was handed a large black feather instead of a mirror to transform instead.

The weakness in this world...it bitters me most surprisingly.

Tom Riddle

December 21st