Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I never have. That's just the way life is I suppose. Kudos to Jo Rowling for thinking of this first!

Author Notes: Dedicated to Siofra the Elf, who gave me this plotbunny. I hope it's not cliche! TR/MM forever! Thanks to everyone on AF for being such brilliant guys. Especially Joy, Dense, Ri, Lena, Cyndi, Siri, Sam, Nim, Kylea, Jacki and Renee - LNMUMMSN!

July 12th 1944

Dear Diary, Olive was teasing me again today about my glasses. I don't think I can stand it much longer. Why must Slytherins be so ebil? Ebil, by the way, diary, is a word my friends and I made up. Some of us don't think Slytherins are as evil as they look – some of them at any rate – so they're just ebil. Olive Hornby is ebil.

Tom Riddle, on the other hand, who is in the year above Olive, is evil. He has devillishly good looks, but I bet he wouldn't notice me, a Hufflepuff and a Muggle born. He's pureblood, after all. He looks down on people like me. I watch him every day in the Great Hall, while he chats to his friends. If only I was good enough for him. Evilness can be good too, especially for looks. Evil people are always good-looking. Olive is just ebil, and ugly. Not that I'm like her; I wouldn't tell her that.

Anyway, diary. It's time I went to bed now. I'll try and stay away from Olive tomorrow. I'll try and get away to the girls' bathroom again. She'll never find me there. Night!

"Look, it's Ugly Myrtle!"

Myrtle groaned silently. She had been hoping to avoid Olive Hornby today, but it was only breakfast and the Slytherin girl's gang had already started taunting her. Trying to ignore the dark-haired girl, she spooned down her cereal while listening to the talk of her fellow Hufflepuffs.

"Grindelwald is getting worse every day! 10 Muggles dead this time!" said Susan Wright, flipping through the Daily Prophet. Myrtle glanced around the hall at the empty seats. Each one represented a student in the hospital wing, and none from Slytherin.

"Scared the monster's gonna get you?" taunted Olive again. Myrtle's shoulders stiffened. Yes, she was scared that the monster would get her; she was a Muggle born. Standing up, she walked quickly out of the hall. Behind her, Olive Hornby also rose to her feet.

"Come on Mudblood. Four eyes!" she taunted. Myrtle's pace quickened, and she hurried up the marble staircase. She wasn't going to listen to Olive… she wasn't! At the top of the staircase she began to run as fast as she could away from her persecutor…

Can't Hornby leave that Hufflepuff alone for a second? Tom wished he could interfere with the taunting, but as a Slytherin prefect he could not reveal what he really thought. Yes, he hated some Mudbloods. Those in the hospital wing deserved what they got – mainly Gryffindors and all enemies of Slytherin! Myrtle was merely a minor. Not important enough… and certainly too beautiful… to kill.

"I'm going to the library," he told his companions – although they were more like followers than like companions. Each year had its own Slytherin ringleader, and he was the ringleader for the sixth years. They mumbled something indistinguishable in reply as Tom picked up his bag and headed for the exit.

"Hey, Riddle! When you gonna admit you opened the Chamber of Secrets?" called a scathing voice from the Gryffindor table. It was Edward Potter, the 'hero' of Gryffindor and a right arse in Tom's opinion. He was so full of himself! Just because he was Gryffindor chaser…

"Shut up, Potter," he snarled. "You know nothing!"

Potter laughed cruelly along with his friends, and made some comment Tom didn't really hear. There was a white rushing noise in his ears as he replied in anger.

"You're dead, Potter. I mean it." Potter rolled his eyes, and laughed again as Tom stalked out of the hall. Those Gryffindors had got the best of him for the last time. He was gonna kill him. The first death would not be a Mudblood, it would be a Pureblood. Edward Potter was gonna get it!

July 13th 1944

Edward Potter, you will pay for this! You and your stinking friends! In your anger against me you caused me to release the Basilisk, and now she is dead… She might be a Mudblood, but there was something special about her. Thanks to you, I shall never see her sitting in the Great Hall eating and chatting with her friends.

I shall carry on the work of Lord Slytherin, my ancestor and master. There is nothing else I can do. You who say we are evil… you are the evil ones. It is your fault she is dead, and your fault that I shall join Grindelwald. No, I shall not join Grindelwald! He is not an heir, like me. He does not have the strength that I have. I shall make myself immortal, and destroy all purebloods that stand against me! Their Gryffindor stubbornness has finally made me snap. They will die. Edward Potter, you are first!

But I cannot show that I was the one who caused her death. There is a third year Gryffindor. He is unsuspecting, but he keeps dangerous creatures about him; creatures who can kill. I know that he has recently acquired an Acromantula from someone in the Hog's Head, and I know where he keeps it. I will go to see Dippet… and then I will strike! I will have my way…. For she is dead, and I will have my vengeance. Myrtle… this is my revenge…

They carry the body down the stairs. Tom Riddle watches, and presses his hand around the diary in his pocket. He knows what to do. Albus Dumbledore, the Transfiguration professor, is watching him. Rubeus Hagrid has been locked in the Headmaster's office. The evidence against him is too great, he will be expelled, maybe even sent to Azkaban! Do they send thirteen-year-olds to Azkaban, Tom wonders? It does not matter. He will avenge Myrtle's death all his life, though they never spoke to each other. There is no room for love in his heart now, just cold bitterness.

I will put my memories into my diary, so that others can see the injustice I have dealt, and so that in the future another can send the Basilisk out to rid the world of Mudbloods and Purebloods like Potter. One day, Potter, you and I will meet. And I will kill you. If you have children, I will kill your children. And I will kill your brothers and sisters and mother and father and grandparents, and their families… For you made me do what I could never do.

And this is Lord Voldemort. A boy who did what he could not bear to do, and took it all upon his heart. He became bitter and cruel, and did exact his vengeance upon the Potters. And when he heard the prophecy he knew who it referred to, for it is a Potter, and all Potters are enemies of Tom Riddle. And so the fight continues…