Irya Aillie Stark - D. M. (Harry Potter x Marvel)

IN ANOTHER LIFE

"You have to look perfect, first impressions are really important." Bellatrix was anxiously fixing my hair for what seemed like the hundredth time. She was a nerve wreck, she had spent all morning making sure the Riddle mansion was impeccable, commanding every house elf we had, and had borrowed from the Malfoy's, to clean and fix everything to perfection. She had been planning this day for basically all my life, the day where she would introduce me to Voldemort, where she would show him how much of a good job she's done, how perfect I already am.

It was the summer holidays, and it was also July 10th, my birthday. Classes had just finished, and so had the Triwizard tournament, during the final of which, Voldemort finally came back. Bella had been talking nonstop since I got back from Hogwarts about how amazing it'll be when I finally meet him, how much I am like him. To be honest, I don't know how I feel about that; I know what he's done, and why he's done it, only to make sure us pureblood witches and wizards claim our rightful place above everyone else, but just as I'm not actually pureblood, sometimes I think we maybe should not be above everyone else, but maybe just in the same level. But what do I know, I'm only 15, they're the ones that actually know what's right or not, what's fair.

She finally let go of my hair, and ran to the kitchen to make sure the food the elves were preparing was perfect. Although it's dinner time, I was woken up really early in the morning by Bellatrix, who was happily screaming about how today was the day. She made sure I looked elegant, dressed in a beautiful and elegant knee-length black dress, made of a smooth fabric, that was just a little bit shorter on the front, and a little bit longer on the back. My hair was done by one of my house elves, Mindy, who had put my hair in an elegant up-do. I didn't have any makeup on, since Bellatrix didn't say I should and I didn't really feel like putting on any.

I was so stressed, so anxious. What if he doesn't like me? What if I'm not what he had hopped I'd be when he let me live? I had to be, I owe him after all. I ran my hands down my dress, smoothing it out.

Bellatrix ran back to where I was, right by the main door. Rodolphus too walked to where we were, and suddenly it got colder, scarier. It was almost as if I could feel him outside, walking towards the door. Bellatrix and Rodolphus stood behind me, each resting a hand on each of my shoulders. I stood straight, chin high up as I expectantly looked at the tall wooden door.

The doorknob moved, ever so slightly, and the door opened slowly, creaking, almost as if it was torturing me. Behind the door stood a tall, thin figure of a man; he walked slowly, and I looked as the rays of the light from the chandelier behind us hit him, slowly revealing his features as he stepped in. His skin was pale, as if he had been dead for a long time and had lost every drop of blood, his eyes, of a cold blue color that I was so used to see on the mirror, we had the same eye color, and dare I say, the same menacing look.

My eyes widened ever so slightly, trying to keep my stress and excitement disguised. I could see the resemblance, I was really his niece. All my life I thought I didn't look much like my mom's side of the family, but more like my poor excuse of a muggle father, since he had brown hair, as had I, and I could see (in a picture I had taken from a muggle magazine, because apparently the dude was famous in the muggle world) that I looked a bit like him; but my blue eyes were just like my uncle's, just like Voldemort's.

"My lord." Said both Bellatrix and Rodolphus, bowing their heads. I felt in some kind of a trance, and only reacted once I noticed his full attention was on me. "Sir." I greeted him, bowing my head.

"Irya Aillie Phoenix Riddle." He said, his cold voice sending shivers down my spine. "You have really grown up since the last time I saw you. Look at me." He ordered, so I did, I looked at him directly in the eyes. "Ah, you still have the same piercing blue eyes, I see." He walked around me, like a predator circling his prey. "You still have the brown hair, though. It'd would have been better if you had black hair like mine, or blond like your mother's, but what can we do now. You must be fifteen, correct?" His comments hurt me a bit, I know I'm not a pureblood but it always hurts to be reminded of what I really am, a half-blood, I'm not what they most value. He was asking about my age, but surely he knew already, right? He couldn't have forgotten my birthday, could he?