forty-two

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Screams rang in the basement of a handsome manor. A young woman, who's golden hair was flowing down the side of her bed, and who's skin was paler than snow, begged for water in the thick of her contractions.

Her boyfriend, whose dark eyes were fixed on her fragile body, held a cloth soaked in water, for which he used to wipe sweat away from her forehead. When he let it fall to the floor, she grasped his hand, squeezing it white.

Eight hours had passed; eight hours filled with intolerable pain. She was shaking, a woman's agony owning every part her love could lay his tired eyes on. Her body was asking her to surrender, but she fought back, which only made it worse. The amount of blood on the floor reminded her of a battleground; her mind couldn't understand that it was her own blood; it was a miracle that she still had red in her veins.

Raindrops tapped against the window. When she closed her eyes between the glimpses of pain, she imagined that she was in paradise, unfamiliar with misery. She was diving deep into water, finding home in oceans. But throbs of pain came around if she dreamed for too long.

"Can't I just rest for a little longer?" she whispered, beyond scared for more suffering, unaware of how much strength she had left in her.

When her shouts grew louder, the storm outside worsened. Perhaps the black sky, lightning and thunder were a metaphor for the baby's soul.

Three hours later, in the middle of the first night of June, the baby was placed on its mother's chest. It was a girl; a girl who's first home had been the water in her womb. All the pain had been worth it in the end.

The father reached out and stroked the baby's cheek, leaving a kiss on the tired mother's nose. He looked down at his daughter, a smile creeping on his lips.

"My gentle babe Marina - whom, for she was born of the sea, we have nam'd so. You have my heart, my love. I will always be by your side. Always, always, always."

A week passed. The blood had been washed away, and the young woman's body, which she had pulled apart to welcome the babe into the world, was healing. With the sun shining, and the birds singing, the woman sat at the staircase of her family's manor while the father of the child carved the little one's name into the wood of her bed. He peeked his girlfriend's way, wondering how he had gotten so lucky. Then, he looked down at his daughter; the soft miracle. She had his eyes. He knew that she would make him proud of all he watched her do.

Two weeks passed. It was early in the morning when the baby cried out. The mother, barely having enough strength to stand, sobbed, twisting in her bed. The father kissed her, whispering that she needed to go back to sleep. Walking over to the baby's crib, he could hear the wails getting thinner and weaker. He picked his daughter up, letting her head rest against his chest. It gave him peace, knowing that she was unaware that the arm he had wrapped around her was engraved with the mark that had ruined his life.

Three weeks passed. He felt that something was wrong. His family was sitting by a lake close to the manor, and his girlfriend was showing their daughter her second home for the first time. He swore that he had never been happier before. Nevertheless, the taste of war lingered on his tongue. Opening his diary by using a drop of his blood, he read the pages about the objects that kept the man he loathed immortal. Blocking out the sound of his girlfriend's laughter and his daughter's soft groans, he began doubting if he would get the chance to stay with them for long, telling himself that as long as they were alright, he could take all the pain in the world.

A month passed. The mother had been out in the sea again. She had dived her head under the water, the sea knowing something that no human did, and she had heard one of its many voices speak to her. There was pain. A lot of pain. The father of the child was a brave soldier, you should know that. He did not have to sacrifice himself. Yet he did. When she came home that night, horror crushed her heart. The door to her home had been kicked down. She found her family slaughtered, on display, and the bodies of her baby and boyfriend nowhere.

Seventeen years passed. Every member of the family had a grave now. Behind the manor lay those who were mercilessly killed on the early July day together under the dirt.

Marina should have laid there with them - with the rest of her family. But she had her own grave far away from them.

The moonlight shone on every inch of Little Hangleton graveyard. The graveyard was overgrown; many of the graves had become covered by ivy and moss; some of the names written on them had become faded; others had tilted and sunken into the ground. Beside the graveyard was the grounds of the vast Riddle estate and the Riddle House. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why the most opulent of the graves in the graveyard belonged to the Riddle family.

The Riddle grave was marked by a large marble headstone that bore the names of Thomas Riddle, Mary Riddle, and Tom Riddle Senior. A large stone statue of the Angel of Death watched over the grave. Three years before, Tom had made Marina duel Harry in the graveyard. Now, she had her own grave under the spot where she had tortured him.

She was not a Riddle. She had never been a Riddle. Still, Tom had put her final resting place next to the members of his family. He had been kind enough to let those who had raised her visit her one spring day, and Narcissa had planted daisies over her grave so that when the seeds bloomed, she could hold her one last time.

Little did she know that Marina's grave was empty.

It was dark. Marina compared it to a deep state of sleep without dreams, and the moment just before the sun rises on a winter night. The type of darkness which makes you feel lost and alone. For an eternity, her soul danced, cried, and screamed along with the ghost of her body. Then, she saw sunrise. Opening her eyes, she was blinded by her soul collapsing with the weight of her body. She was wrapped in silk; that was the first thing she discovered. A silk bed sheet laid partly over her body, the rest of it over it dipped in a puddle of water beside her. Resting on a hard surface, she looked around to discover that she was in some sort of cave. Was this the afterlife?

Feeling no discomfort, she sat up straight and bowed over the puddle of water. Her reflection in the water looked right back at her. Her hair had grown much longer; it reached her elbows now. And strange as it was, it had turned white. She looked like a Malfoy.

Scrunching her nose, she leaned closer to the water to get a better look at her face. Brown eyes and pink lips - she looked the same as she always had. There was just one difference: starting by the corner of her right eye and reaching to her ear, a scar that took the shape of the hand movement to the Killing Curse had been marked on her.

Lightning strikes twice.

Getting to her feet, she began to look around the empty cave. The sounds of waves and waterfalls roared through it. It felt weird to walk - her knees were weak and her legs were shaking. She could tell that she had lost weight, and her skin had become paler. She looked sick. But she felt warm, not cold; she sensed the type of warmth you'd be gifted by the sun on a summer day. How long had she been asleep - didn't she close her eyes in January?

"You're awake."

The voice was like the silk Marina was pressing against her body. It echoed through the cave before it drowned in the sound of running water. Turning, she found herself staring into darkness.

"Who's there?"

Out of the darkness rose a woman with long, golden hair dressed in a flowy blue dress. She was young, but there were still wrinkles on her skin. Her small nose covered in freckles, and her eyebrows of such a light color they could barely be seen them, pretty was made a lazy word to describe her. Water dripping off her body, she walked closer to Marina and showed that they were the same height. Marina watched her in silence, understanding that there was something familiar about her.

"I do not know if you would believe me if I told you," the woman said carefully. "I do not know if you would forgive me if I told you."

Marina was sure now. It was the woman she had seen in the photographs. Feeling tears forming in her eyes, she whispered, "Mum, are we dead?"

Darya Swan had never expected those to be the first words her daughter would say to her. Shaking her head, she answered, "no, my baby. Your story isn't over yet. You can't escape it by turning yourself into a beautiful corpse."

Marina had died, only to find she had come alive. "How long was I gone?"

"Seven months," Darya replied. Seven, seven, seven. The number seemed to follow Marina wherever she went.

"I thought you were dead," Marina began, memories flung into her head, "I thought you died with Dad. I thought I died. Why am I alive? Why can I remember my death? He killed me! Why would he kill me?"

Darya took a step forward, reaching out a hand as a way to ask if it was okay to touch her. Marina responded with throwing herself into her mother's arms.

"Look at you," her mother whispered, her hand stroking the back of her head. "All grown-up."

"Grown-up," Marina scoffed. "I suppose I have grown up. Killing people, myself included, must have changed me."

She pulled away from the tight embrace, taking a minute to look at her mother. Darya let the clock tick slowly. She had eyes blue as the ocean, and several scars marked on her chin and neck.

"My love, you threw yourself in the ocean, but fought to stay alive. You never wanted to kill yourself. You wanted to kill something inside of you. And so you have done." She reached out to brush a strand of hair away from Marina's face. "Tom is not a part of you anymore, and you are not a part of him."

How did her mother know about Tom? Taking several steps back, visions of what had happened flashing before her eyes, Marina crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Tom killed me."

"My dear child, after six years of school, you still don't know the color of the killing curse? Tom hit you with a red light. He never wanted to kill you - then, he would have killed a part of himself."

"Then who killed me? I was dead, right?"

"If you could calm down, I could explain everything. It was I who used the Killing Curse on you so that you could die quickly and not slowly by drowning. I knew you had to die, for you were part of Tom's soul. Don't ponder too long: I would never have done it if I knew it would harm you."

Now with a million questions running through her head, Marina felt herself panicking. She wanted to ask every question, but instead, she let out a high-pitched: "did you just say that you killed me?"

"My love. Please. Listen to me. I know this is exhausting. But please, let me explain everything," Darya said, taking Marina's hand. "Life has never been easy for us two. I know that you have been through more pain than one ever should. When you were just a baby, Tom made you apart of his soul. He split his soul into several pieces so that he could live forever. When you became a Horcrux, he was able to control you in many ways. But when you began distancing yourself from him - when your loyalty began to shift - he began doubting his works. He sent you to the Boy Who Lived thinking that he would grow to care for you, so that if he ever found out about the Horcruxes, he would never dare to kill you. Tom didn't think that you would fall for the boy. Since you were a part of Tom, and him a part of you, he could feel your emotions towards the boy. He understood that you had begun questioning where your loyalty laid. He speculated if you would have the strength to end yourself if you found out about what he had done to you. Do you remember what happened on the night of the Yule Ball, my darling? Of course, you do. You have always believed that you killed Isak. It wasn't the case. Tom had, at that point, made up his mind: you needed to have your own Horcrux so that if you decided to turn against him and end yourself, you wouldn't be able to, for you were immortal yourself. To create a Horcrux, you must end a life. The night of the Yule Ball, Tom used his power over you to make you kill Isak. Then, he created a Horcrux for you. He gifted it to you afterward. Can you imagine what it is?"

Marina suddenly felt very cold. "Nagini."

"You're so bright. Nagini is not only your Horcrux, but also Tom's. Neither of you can be defeated and die before she is dead."

Darya turned and walked back into the darkness. A short minute afterward, she returned, holding Marina's bag in her arms. "You know a little about Horcruxes, don't you? You have Regulus' diary." Never had someone said her father's name so softly. Darya's lips turned upward. "You know, you look a lot like him. You have his eyes and his dark look. The beauty of a Black."

"Last time someone told me that I was like my father, they died seconds later." Marina bit down on her lip and thought about Sirius. Had Darya known Sirius? "Mum, how do you know about everything that has happened to me?"

Darya stiffened. "You have every right to be angry at me. I should have been there for you. I should have been there to watch you take your first steps. I should have been there for you when you got your acceptance letter. I should have been there for you when you found your first love. Every night when I close my eyes, I dream of a world where our family never died. Life isn't fair to us, but know that I have been paying attention to everything you have accomplished. I'm so proud of you, Marina, little warrior. The courage you have in you, daring you to kill every fear you have. I was so proud of you when you were sorted into Slytherin. I was so proud of you when you competed in the Triwizard Tournament. I was so proud of you when you, despite being only fifteen, turned against everything familiar to you to fight evil. I'm still so proud of you, willing to sacrifice yourself for the things you believe in."

Marina wiped her tears away, "you were there all along?"

"I was. Every second of every day, I wished that I could have shown myself to you. I've had to keep myself hidden ever since the summer your father died. After seeing what Tom had done to our family, I had to run away and never look back. He has been trying to find me. I've been talking to Albus and his brother all these years, my darling, that's how I've been updated about everything that has happened in your life."

"Albus Dumbledore - the same man who told me that nobody had seen you in sixteen years?" Marina huffed, then realized that she was no longer sixteen, but seventeen. She had celebrated a birthday in death. "Maybe... maybe then you can explain to me why Dumbledore had Father's locket... or fake locket... it had a message inside it, and Dumbledore must have found it in the cave that Father died in. Dumbledore had it in his pocket when he died..."

Darya looked down at the ground. "Yes, I was with Dumbledore when he fetched it from the cave."

"When?"

"January."

"You watched him drink the poison?" Marina asked, to which she received a nod. "You knew it would make him weaker. You knew what happened to Father after he drank it, didn't you? So when he came to Malfoy Manor afterward, he was doomed to die; he didn't have any strength left in him to fight?"

Darya hummed, let her hand drop to her side, and turned away from Marina. "Yes. I knew it would lead to his death."

Marina watched her bag open slightly when a gush of wind danced around the cave. Now she could glimpse the framed photograph of her and Harry. From the deepest pits of her mind, the memory of Harry's lifeless body laying on the floor of Grimmauld Place struck her. Gasping, squeezing her eyes shut, she stumbled backward, feeling her back meet stone again.

"Harry's dead." Her voice was shaking. Darya looked at her with wide eyes.

"No, he's not. Last time I checked, he was at his aunt's. Dumbledore's brother told me so." When Marina did not answer, she continued, "he's aware of your death. Rita Skeeter wrote about your life and death after you died. It was printed for the whole Wizarding World to read. There's no way he doesn't know that you died."

"Then, I need to find him," Marina said.

"No, no, no. You need to rest, my love. You barely have enough strength to walk. Remember that you just rose up from the dead? You need to eat and sleep. When you're ready, I'll help you find him."

"But I can't die, isn't that what you have just told me? Why does it matter, then?" Marina asked quickly.

"Your body was killed, but your soul was not. There is a reason why you've changed. You need to let your body heal before you step outside."

Like a child, Marina responded with a loud sigh. She was thinking of all the things she could do if everyone believed that she was dead. "How long do I have to rest?"

Darya shook her head and smiled wide. "If it's so important to you to let him know that you are fine, just take my wand and send a Patronus his way. Dumbledore told me you could produce one." She reached into her dress and brought out her wand. "The boy knows what your Patronus is, right?"

"Yes, he must remember... He was with me when I first produced one." Marina recalled the tigress that had traveled around the Room of Requirement. "It- it was when we kissed for the first time. But if you're hiding, you can't use your wand - the Ministry will know that you're using magic, maybe they'll find you-"

"I haven't needed to use it in years, and I don't think I'll use it in the near future. Really, if the boy means that much to you, you can use it now, and I'll swim somewhere and hide it while you sleep."

Seven months had passed since Marina had performed magic. She doubted if she would be able to complete any charm now, and especially not the Patronus Charm, which she had not cast in over a year. She was sure of one thing, though: she needed to let Harry that she was alive. Determined that she would somehow be able to send her Patronus his way, she accepted Darya's wand - a light brown wand, and let it rest in her shaky hand.

Closing her eyes, knowing that she needed to begin by mustering her happiest memory, she pointed the wand upward. Thinking of the day she had fallen in love had always helped her perform the charm; the day when she had decided that she saw Harry in a different light, and almost kissed him. "Expecto Patronum."

Nothing happened.

Thinking that the memory wasn't strong enough, she thought of their first kiss, and tried again. A thin wisp of silver escaped the wand but disappeared before it could take shape of her spirit guardian. She tried again, and again, and again without any luck. After ten tries, she felt her head begin to spin. Sitting down on the hard ground, feeling hopeless, she wondered why it didn't work. Maybe her ability to love had died with her, but she was unaware? Maybe she was no

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