Tom Riddle's journal
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
The boy ran his fingers over the ancient paper, it crinkled and wrinkled. His hands shook, somehow he knew what to do, but he didn't know why or how he had learned such.
He pushed back his thick black mane, his eyes shown fearfully behind his thick rimmed glasses.
He took a deep breath, and pushed out the doubting thoughts that cam bombarding his mind. He clenched the feather quill pen tightly, and began o scroll in bold lettering:
MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER.