Dear Diary,

Hi. It's yours truly again. I watered Snape's flowers. He didn't really seem like he wanted his flowers to be healthy, because he ran away from me when I came after him. I chased him for a while with pruning shears and a watering can, and he finally got out of breath and stopped. I strapped him down to the table and pruned and watered his flowers. I even got some soil up in there! I didn't have a chance to get any fertilizer in too, because when I got back from finding the bag of fertilizer, Snape was gone.

Where was I in my story? Hmm…oh, yeah. I was talking about my hurtiness. It hurted really bad! It still is really hurty! I can feel it in my body, but right now I am writing from one of my Horcruxes: my childhood diary, or, rather, the memory of my adolescent self in the pages.

Do you know what a Horcrux is, diary? I made six! They're parts of my soul, separated from my body and preserved in objects. You can make a Horcrux by killing people. That's what Snape said. He's my bestie.

Anyways, I'm reaching out my memory-arm from the diary to write in this diary! Isn't that neat?

Okay, so do you want to hear my master plan? I'm sure you do! Here goes:

I like killing people. When Harry Potty didn't get dead, I didn't like it. I never fail at killing people! I want Harry Potty to die.

Well, I realized I could possess anything, I think! I possessed the Horcrux diary! While I was thinking of ways to kill Harry Potty, Lucius Malfoy, who by the way was in charge of the diary, although he didn't know it was a Horcrux, picked me up and took me away. I waited inside of the diary (my memory person, that is) until I was shoved into a book and tossed in a cauldron.

After a few days, I was opened. I saw a red-haired girl leaning over me. She looked puzzled. She turned all my pages, then dipped a quill in some ink and wrote. It felt tickly on my pages.

Ginny Weasley.

My name isn't Ginny, I wrote.

The girl's eyes widened as her words melted into the paper and mine appeared.

My name is Ginny Weasley, she scratched after a moment.

Good for you, I wrote. Are you familiar with Harry Potty?

No. I do know a Harry POTTER, though.

Okay. Good. Show me to him.

The girl stared at the paper a little suspiciously. Then she seemed to dismiss our written conversation as an illusion and slammed the diary shut.

Oh, my goodness! I'm sorry to interrupt the story, but I just saw Snape dart by! BESTIEEEEE! COME BACK! LET ME FERTILIZE YOUR NOSE FLOWERS!

Okay. Got to go. Bye.

Evilly,

LORD VOLDEMORT

Author's note: Reviews please! And thanks to the followers and frequent reviewers for this story! Also, thanks to Dragon MoonX for the idea about the pruning shears. I had figured Voldy would prune the flowers with his hands, but the pruning shears thing is funnier. XD