Tom Riddle's Diary – 1989
Ivy held the present in her hands for a few seconds before recognising it. A book. A diary, in fact, bound in navy blue muggle leather. On the back of the diary, three words had been embedded "Tom Marvolo Riddle" – the name of Ivy's father. This diary had been held by him at one point, had been used and perhaps even written in. For once, maybe Ivy could actually know what Father was saying, read what he was thinking. It wasn't at all much, but this A5 piece of leather and parchment was the closest Ivy had to a dad.
Ivy gripped the mauled book, fingering the loose threads of the binding. She opened it and peered inside. Nothing. She flipped page after page but all that existed before her were empty yellowing pages. Surely her father would have something to write down? Mother always said Tom Riddle was highly opinionated; why shouldn't he want to write his thoughts down? He must have bought the diary for some kind of purpose!
She set the open book down on the kitchen table and rested her head upon it. She was suddenly quite drowsy for the disappointment had drained her. She looked up again and swiped a feather from the table. Once having dipped the feather in a small pot of ink, she dabbed the nib on the corner of a page. A tiny blue spot appeared but just as it reached the paper, it seemed to immediately vanish. Ivy frowned, brought some more ink to her feather and began to write upon the parchment.
I am Ivy. she wrote, fascinated as, once again, the ink disappeared into the paper.
Hello, Ivy, I am Tom Riddle. The words appeared on the page beneath where Ivy's own writing had been just a moment before.
Are you really? Ivy replied, as her heart began to flutter. Her father was finally writing to her!
I am. the book replied.
I've been meaning to speak with you, Tom. I am Ivy Desiree. Do you recognise me? Ivy gushed, grinning at the book.
Why should I recognise you?
Ivy scowled. This was no father of hers; the real Tom Riddle would never forget his own daughter...especially if she was far more talented a witch than most her age.
Because I am the product of your alliance with my mother... she continued.
Oh yes? I have performed no alliances in my time and if you mean to say that, together, your mother and I had a child (specifically, you) then I'd have to disappoint. You're looking for somebody else, Ivy Desiree.
Did you or did you not meet Evelyn Desiree in the year 1981? Ivy pressed, staring coldly at the Tom Riddle's diary.
The book didn't reply for a few moments. Perhaps it had paused for thought.
I did. It replied at last.
And did you or did you not engage in amorous activities when you met her?
Another moment's pause.
I did.
Well, then unless you are suggesting that my mother became pregnant of her own accord, you are my father. Ivy responded.
Is that so? Interesting. Well, as my daughter I'm sure you'd be keen to know that the wizarding world will not be rid of me for much longer. Tom Riddle wrote.
Rid of you? Tom Riddle, Father, I don't understand.
I suppose Evelyn has not told you a lot about me then.
Oh she has! Lots! She told me how talented you are. How well you did at Hogwarts School despite having been the son of a muggle! My mother is a muggle-born too.
I am half-blood and, indeed, I am talented. I did extraordinarily at Hogwarts. I am extraordinary. I was the best student that school had ever seen. I was the Heir of Slytherin, in fact. I hood-winked half the teachers there by my fifth year! Even wonderful Albus Dumbledore.
When I get to Hogwarts, I'm going to be just like you, Father, I'm going to become a prefect and earn the house cup and even be elected head girl!
Ivy, I would rather if you referred to me as your "Lord" instead of your "Father" and "Voldemort" instead of "Tom Riddle". I spit on the name of my father, your grandfather, and as should you. He was a filthy, wicked muggle. The only thing that man ever gave to me was his appearance. You can't expect me to keep that rodent's name, can you? He left my mother for being a witch. How dare he refuse a descendant of Salazar Slytherin? It was essential that I eliminate the last of the unworthy Riddle line.
Voldemort my Lord, were you successful in eliminating the Riddle line?
Incredibly so. But for now I believe some research of Lord Voldemort is in order before you find yourself in much more contact with me. As my own, I have many plans for you but plans that could only be carried out by somebody with a far greater understand of Voldemort, Slytherin, the Dark Mark and what these three things symbolise. Ivy, you appear to be a bright, well-judging and understanding witch. Of any daughters that could have sprung from your mother, I am glad it was you. The finest daughter a wizard of my status and standing could receive.
Thank you. Goodbye, Lord Voldemort.
Goodbye, Ivy Desiree.
And with that, Ivy's first conversation with her father, Tom Riddle (more commonly known as Voldemort) concluded.
"Mother!" Ivy barked across the house. "Mother! I just spoke with Voldemort! My father, Voldemort! He has great plans for me to carry out as his finest."