Writing in a diary wasn't something that had ever appealed to Regulus; even the thought of writing down his every feeling like that brought about some embarrassment. But he was going to dwell on those thoughts all night regardless, so he decided in the end that there was no harm in at least attempting to purge them by committing them to paper first. The tip of his quill lingered in the cobalt ink for a moment before he made the first mark. A second passed, and Regulus watched in surprise as something new appeared in the diary, dark and cramped cursive words replacing his own. My name is Tom.