A/N: So I wrote this and posted it her 4 years ago and not a single person read it and wow I couldn't blame them this was HORRIBLE! How did I ever make it into university with grammar and spelling like that! But regardless I am procrastinating and decided to rewrite it. Maybe now someone will read! All bets are off on that one!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this fiction. If I do make up a character they will become mine, all mine.
September 19th, 1979
He waited. He had waited his whole life for this moment. Nothing could go wrong. The fate of the world would depend on this very moment.
"Sir it is done," a short man said to a man sitting by the fire.
"The girl is she..." hissed the man
"She's dead Master. We tried everything we could think of to save her it's just the poison was to strong."
"That is excusable; she was of no matter to begin with." The man replied rising to stroke the dying fire. "The baby I presume is in good health?"
"Of course sir, we can expect no better"
"Good then bring it to me. I must give it something."
"Yes sir" he replied scurrying out of the room to retrieve the child.
He was a father; this baby would be his first and his only child. This should have been the happiest moment in his life. But happiness was not emotion that he allowed himself to feel. As with all things in his life this baby was part of a plan and though this child was of his own flesh all that mattered was the project. He could not get attached or feel for this being.
The baby would be taken from him, a seer foretold this. The Order would storm his strong hold and steal back what they believed to be theirs. This child was believed by the Order to be that of Roger and Matilda Blackhouse's. Six weeks ago the Prophet had reported the Voldemort had kidnapped Mrs. Blackhouse and her unborn child and the Ministry was doing everything in their power to get her back. What the order did not know was the 9 and a half months ago Roger and Matilda were attacked Roger was killed and Matilda was kidnapped, raped and placed under the Imperius Curse.
The order would be attacking thanks to the use of a lead that his own people gave in for him. Keep your friends close but your enemy's closer was a saying that the Lord believed strongly in. By placing his child into the care of the enemy he could be reassured that no one would suspect them when the project began.
He had worked for years planning and mastering out the correct spells, potions and mechanics to create what would be his life's work. This work would be the end to end all. This project would be his masterpiece. However all of this would be a waste if the child did not hold up its end of the bargain. The baby, yes this small infant would be the key to the project's success.
"Lord Voldermort" a voice stirred him from his thoughts, "May I present your daughter Sir".
A daughter, now this was unexpected. All test administered before the birth had indicated that the infant would be a boy. A girl… that would be different. Girls were not a strong as males and in his line of work women were to be mothers and homemakers not warriors of the cause. But still she would have to do.
He stared down into her sparkling eyes. She had his colouring, slightly tanned skin, brown hair and hazelnut eyes. Freckles dotted across her nose, an unfortunate side affect to having an Irish mother. He hope, that for her sake, she would not end up with the same mass of unruly hair that her dear departed mother has sported.
"Master" a panting masked man shouted, "they have arrived".
He smirked, that was faster than he thought; Old Dumbledore must be under significant pressure if his army was acting on a lead so quickly, especially an attack of the Death Eater fortress. He gave the baby over to his researchers for them to administer the proper spells.
Twenty minutes later, the battle still raging they were done. She was going to be strong, he could tell. During the whole process she had not cried. That was the marking of a true soldier.
The researched had implanted her with the information needed to execute the plan. When the time came, this would be activated and used to annihilate the muggle race. The only mark that would identify this child as his would be the freckle outline of a serpent. No one would be able to identify her until the time had come.
The fighting was getting closer; he could hear the voices of his loyal soldiers fighting with those of the Order down below. He gathered up the child and swiftly moved to the far wing of the mansion.
Reaching his quarters he conjured up a cot for his daughter sleep in while waiting to be "rescued".
"Good luck my child" he whispered, placing his sleeping daughter in her cot. "It is all up to you now. You must be the one to fulfill our destiny".
And with a pop Lord Voldermort left the nursery just in time as the robes of an old wizard swept into the room. With his wand raised he approached the cot.
"Why hello there little one," he spoke to the eyes staring up at him, "I am here to take you home".
And with that he scooped the infant into his arms and gazed down into the little brown eyes of this baby girl, who, unknowingly to him, would change the wizarding world forever.
