Ami Riddle wanted to be average. She wanted to be average more than anything else in the world. But this could never be for a girl like her.
Wavy black hair reaching her waist bluntly. Brown specked green eyes. Porcelain face. Why did those make her special? I t wasn't these. Not at all. It was her surname which gave her trouble, one which was often overlooked by peers, though frowned upon by most others.
Set in Gryffindor house, she was an outrage to the Riddles. The last child of the Slytherin heirs in …Gryffindor? But for some odd reason, her father was happy that day. "You can look into that Potter boy, for me." He said, speaking of the Boy who Lived, who had left him to a spirit who left everything behind.
But this was the past, and was of no matter now. He had received the information he needed. He knew of Scabber's alias, and knew of the Weasley family's relation with Harry, including Ginny. All because of her. Well, it was more likely that Lucius Malfoy was told these things, as Ami resided near them with her mother, now deceased.
But the year of the Dark Lord's rise, that was exceptionally well done by the late Barty Crouch Jr. and Ami Riddle. Luckily, only one of them was caught that day. Fifth year, and sixth, Ami wasn't really needed, as the power of her father grew and grew.
And as the seventh summer arrived, Ami felt something. She assumed it to merely be a growing fear of her father, though deep inside she knew the real emotion. Regret. But why did she feel that way? Another emotion, bottled up deep inside of her. But that tale is for later. Now, I speak of the last week of August in Ami's seventh year, in which the Riddle youth receives a rather interesting and intriguing letter.