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

A MURDERER

I wake up, but I keep my eyes closed for a moment, focusing on everything around me. If I put attention, I can hear the drops of the serum falling into the IV and I can feel it as it runs through my veins, getting to my whole body. I hear the beating of my heart, racing when I think of what that bloody serum is doing to me, how it is contaminating me.

I am aware of the cold feeling on my left wrist, the metal band still there as if mocking me. But what I was more awfully aware of were the two rings, cold yet they felt as if they're burning me. The promise ring that adorned my finger on my left hand gave me a feeling that I just can't describe as anything but bittersweet; while the bigger, older ring I had been wearing on a chain lay there on my chest, as if weighing me down, reminding me of who I am, and of who brought me here, abandoned me here.

I don't know how much time I've spent here, probably weeks, but all I can think of is just how much I'd like to be able to leave, to go back home.

Home, such a fun concept. Is there even a home for me to go back to? Will anyone truly care if I ever come back or if I don't? I know Voldemort would, but I also know it'd only be because he wants me to be the perfect weapon so I can win the war for him.

Perhaps I should give him that. After all, if I help him win the war then he'll be grateful for me, right? Right?

I know it's just me, coming up with stupid scenarios that probably won't ever happen, because being honest does he really need me to win the war? I think not, and if he doesn't need me then there's no real reason for him to want to come back for me. I just want to pretend at least someone cares for me, even if it's for the wrong reasons. How pathetic of me.

I open my eyes, adjusting to the white light in the room that I've now grown used to blind me for a moment whenever I wake up. I see the man who's been making my experimentation his personal entertainment sitting on a chair by the door, writing something on a notebook.

I try to move, trying to at least change a bit the laying position I've been in for Merlin knows how long now, trying to get as comfortable as I possibly can but while I'm trying to do so, failing miserably by the way, I move the bed a bit, making a noise that alerted the scientist.

"Ah, you're awake now. Good." He said looking up from his notebook, getting up from his seat. "You've come a long way, you know? There's something special about you, I could feel it from the moment your father told me about you." He laughed at the memory, what is so fun about it? What did Voldemort exactly tell him? "Sadly he didn't see the bigger picture, didn't think there was something as special in you."

"You're lying. He said he'd come back for me." I suddenly became really angry, talking through gritted teeth. "He needs me to win his war."

My anger only seemed to amuse him even more.

"Foolish child, he doesn't need you. And he lied, he won't come back for you, he exchanged you for a serum that could make him stronger. Poor idiot didn't know it doesn't work that way." He shook his head, a smirk plastered on his face. "It won't do anything for him, he doesn't know how to use it. In fact it's the same serum we've been giving you, only you will actually get to see how it works."

"He wouldn't do that, he wouldn't abandon me. I'm too important for him." My eyes were becoming blurry, I'm so tired of crying.

"Don't be stupid, he already did. Now now, don't get all sad, not yet. You've reached the next stage of your experimentation." He put down his notebook, taking out a weird little device from his coat. "Come get her." He said into it, putting it back in his pocket. "Now, you see, the serum is in your system. It flows through your veins, and exists in every cell of your body, it's there but it's... Let's say, sleeping." He walked towards me, standing beside my bed. "So it needs a little... Push, to get it to wake up and start working." He looked directly in my eyes, the coldness in his eyes reminding me of  Voldemort's. It felt like he could see through my soul, see my future; and that's exactly how I felt every time Voldemort looked at me.