Dear Diary

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From Hepzibah Smith's diary:

Dear Diary, I can hardly keep my quill steady to write these lines! He visited me again and brought me roses again, oh, can you imagine! The pale pink ones that I love, he knows it well enough by now — I won’t cast even a glance at the cheap nonsense they now call the queen of the garden! So, there he was, pale pink roses in his hands made such a contrast to his black suit… poor boy, he always dresses so well with the little of the funds he has! And keeps it clean and tidy, neat as a pin, he is, my dear Tom… I’ve noticed recently that he became way too pale for a young man of his age. And when I noted that while taking the roses away from him, he said… oh, dare I repeat his words without blushing? He said — and I quote! –: “Miss Hepzibah, men turn pale when the blood rushes from their face to… their hearts”. That naughty boy!!! Their hearts! The smile he gave me was that very beautiful smile of his, and I knew he knew that I knew what he had truly meant! Naughty, naughty boy! I wonder about his financial situation, though. I know that old bastard Burk too well, he won’t pay a dime over the lowest price for his own mother’s burial! Poor Tom, he must be struggling so much, and yet I have never seen him tense or showing his worries… sometimes I wonder… But let me continue. Hokey served the tea, and we were having a lovely conversation about the antiques in my disposal, when he suddenly remembered the Slytherin’s locket. He asked me to never sell it back to Burk, can you imagine? He said: “I beg you, miss Hepzibah, don’t let him get his hands on it…”. And when I asked him why he was so passionate all of a sudden, he said quietly: “I hate the thought of unworthy hands touching the true treasures…”. And then his hand touched mine, and the next moment his lips were brushing my knuckles so lightly it made me feel all the butterflies there are in my stomach! Do I need to tell what happened after? He is so lean and pale under those black suits and shirts of his! His chest is smooth, and the nipples look like small pale petals of the roses he brings to me… I used to think his inexpensive clothes didn’t ruin his image, but now I know that best of all he looks when he is as naked as God intended him to be! He has the body of Apollo but not where it matters, his manhood has nothing to do with the tiniest excuses of the Greek statues! The fig leaf would not have been enough… I loved watching him naked — all naked but the Slytherin’s locket on his chest. My silly boy wanted that on him, so that he could — I quote again! — “touch the true greatness while touching the true beauty”. What a silly boy, I adore him! Well, I have to go now. I think Tom will be up soon… he is very young! Love, Hepzibah.

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From Tom Riddle's diary:

Dear Diary, I hate my fucking life. Lord Voldemort.