A stiflingly hot August day brought the wails of a newborn girl, wrapped in a pale green blanket. Her mother looked down at her with an expression that could only be described as loathing as her father entered the room.

"My Lord," the mother said, standing and bowing to him despite her exhaustion.

The father - Lord Voldemort himself - paid no attention to his most faithful follower, instead looking at the crying baby with barely-concealed irritation.

"Silencio," he said, flicking his wand casually at his daughter. The wails stopped at once.

Now that the baby had fallen silent, her father took a better look at her.

"She's certainly not a pretty girl, but she will be useful. A loyal Death Eater, a spy within Hogwarts when she is old enough, and the crux of my success as the war continues."

"But My Lord, what about-"

"Do not question me, Bella." His tone was ice cold, and Bellatrix Lestrange said nothing more.

"Her name is Ivory Ferali Riddle," the Dark Lord continued. "You are to raise her by any means necessary, to ensure she will obey my orders." His voice was less cold now, but it still had a slight dangerous edge to it. "On her third birthday, she will start being taught magic by a tutor. On her fourth birthday, she will be given the Dark Mark. And on her fifth birthday-" he gave a foreboding pause - "the plan will be set in motion."