Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in Harry Potter or the concept.
Voldemort's Diary
Chapter 1
I am no longer human. People think of me as something else entirely. I am an evil creature to them. I know what they say about me. They fear me. I do have people who are my allies. People who risk their lives for me, but I do not trust them. They are weak. Whereas I am now weak in body, these people are weak in mental strength. They are feeble minded. I don't trust them. I can trust no one. I learned that a long time ago. Now, there is no turning back.
Those who follow me, do so out of fear of me. They are not brave to do so. In fact, in a way, I hate those who follow me. They are cowardly and spineless. It is only those who do not follow me who are strong characters, those who are brave enough to fight for what they believe in that I respect to some extent. Those people say I am an animal. They call me a snake. They believe that I have no feelings. But they are wrong. I do have one feeling. Hatred. I hate the people who worship at my feet. The people who pledge to always follow me. They call me the Dark Lord, but they are too scared to touch me, to tell me what they really feel or to offer an opinion. Most worship me because they are scared of me however, the people who I hate the most are those who worship me to give them power. Lucius Malfoy has hated all of his life. He has taught his child to hate. He is desperate for power; desperate to kill all those mudbloods, for that, at least I respect him. However, he is also weak. He is too scared to find power for himself, but has to through me. He would be too afraid to battle against me and I hate people like that.
I also hate mudbloods. They have no right to be in the wizard world. They are pathetic creatures that only corrupt true-bred wizards into doing things their way. They are untrustworthy characters. Out for themselves and extremely intolerable. I fight against them. Mudbloods are the weakest people in the wizarding world. They are born with muggle parents. My father was a muggle. A lowly being. He abandoned his only son when he found out the wife he had loved was a witch. How small minded and idiotic could someone be? All muggles and mudbloods are the same. They infect our society. For every mudblood I kill, I grow stronger. I must continue with Salazar Slytherins work. He is one of the only people I have ever respected.
I hate people like Dumbledore. Yes, he has tried to stop me. People say I am afraid of him, but they are wrong. People believe that Albus Dumbledore is one of the greatest wizards in our world. They think he is all good. I see him for what he is. There are two sides to everyone. They all hate at one time or another. Albus hates me. Anyone who hates has evil in them. Hmm…talking about people who hate…. Harry Potter is my little working project.
I hate Harry Potter above anyone. His parents died saving him, while my father abandoned me. We are not that different from each other though. He shares my ability to speak in parseltongue. Our wands share the same feather and Harry Potter does hate. He hates that he has been through so much when his horrible little friends, Hermione and Ron live an easy life. He hates that they were given the honour of becoming prefects when he was obviously a better wizard. Why did they deserve it? He hates my weak little friend, Severus. He hates the muggle family he lives with. He hates Draco but above all he hates me. The thing that stole his parents from him. Everyday his hate grows stronger. It will eventually be his hatred that kills him. Not me.
I lurked in the shadows today watching him in the Dursley's house. Dudley had just thrown a water balloon at him and he kicked the wall in anger. I knew he was desperate to use magic against him. To hurt the fat little muggle. He rubbed angrily at his scar. It hurt cos' I was nearby but he did not know I was. Disguised as a rat he would not see me. His scar was a constant reminder of what I had done to him. A reminder that I still existed and what I had done to his parents. I laughed to myself, enjoying his pain. I heard his uncle's voice shouting up to him to do the dishes. As Harry Potter grows more and more angry, I grow stronger. After all, it is through other people's pain that I grow powerful.
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