If I post this, it shall be for the Bored Challenge. So... enjoy, and merry Christmas!

It was one of those ghastly rainy days during which a cloud of depression looms and never truly fades away. Tom Riddle was staring at a list of dates and times, the list of everyone who had betrayed him, angered him. He would have his revenge upon them all - he would be deathless, without any true weakness, more powerful than any man had dreamed of being. He would master all things.

Tom Riddle, the Mudbloods at the orphanage, Morfin Gaunt, Rubeus Hagrid. The list snaked down the pages of his diary, intertwined with nearly unreadable to-do notes written in Runes. He was not lonely. He did not crave human company. Riddle was simply bored, and contemplative, and... unsure of what he would do with himself when he became invinsible and all men feared him.

He remembered the words of one of the younger authorities at the orphanage as he helped himself to a chocolate frog. You're such a couch potato, Tom. Riddle smiled as he remembered his reply - I'm not particularly lazy, but these brats are anything but desired company. I shouldn't care if they all slipped away this very moment. He frowned as he remembered Dumbledore, the skeptical old fool that he was, offering him a lemon drop, a hug and a daisy chain as he brought him to Hogwarts. Tom, of course, had refused. He'd had enough of the interfering man.

Turning to an unused page, below the name that he knew would be his as the most powerful wizard of all time, he scribbled the name of the victim he was most anticipating. Albus Dumbledore.