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Marina Bellatrix Black had spent yet another summer at Malfoy Manor. It was near the beginning of her fourth year at Hogwarts, and while the Malfoys and the rest of her father's followers had gone to the Quidditch World Cup, she sat alone in her bedroom, humming to herself.
She played with her wand, casting a look over the room. Everything was dark; the bedsheets in a color of deep green, the walls ebony. The green flames in the fireplace were the only thing that lit up the room.
A knock on the door interrupted Marina's thoughts. It was one of the Malfoys' servants; they had hired a human servant now that Dobby was gone.
"My Lady, the Malfoys are waiting for you downstairs," the man said with a thin voice. Normally, Marina would cast a curse on any person that entered her room without permission, but she let it slide because of her now pumping adrenaline.
"Is my father home?" she asked.
"No, My Lady," the tall man answered, much like a robot. "Not yet."
She quickly got to her feet, sighing loudly while exiting the room. The people in the portraits hanging in the hallway smiled at her as she walked past them, some greeting her with a simple hello.
Marina's life was simple, in her opinion. On June 1, 1980, she had been born to Bellatrix Black and Tom Riddle.
A little over a year later, her mother had been put in Azkaban for experimenting with dark magic, and her father had lost his powers and disappeared out of sight, leaving her in the arms of her aunt, Narcissa Malfoy. Marina had spent her childhood in Malfoy Manor, growing up with Draco Malfoy by her side, and Lucius protecting them.
Her father had watched over her for as long as she could remember. Because of his loss of powers, he could not actually visit her face-to-face - but that did not stop them from planning and conversing. You see, if Marina thought of something and called her father's name, he could hear her and give her guidance. They were telepathic, you could say.
When Marina turned 11, she went to Hogwarts with her cousin Draco. Fortunately, they were put in the same house, Slytherin, where they soon made many friends. She took great pride in being a part of the house of the ambitious and cunning, and would curse anyone who said anything bad about it.
The same year, she faced the boy who had stolen her father's powers. She loathed him with every cell in her body, and there were several times where she had to be held back from hurting him. But when Christmas came later that year, her father told her that she needed to stay away from him and hold a low profile while at Hogwarts - and so she had done.
Through her second and third year at Hogwarts, she had attended every class with her head held low, not causing any trouble. Of course, she had occasionally joined her fellow Slytherins in bullying a Muggleborn or two, but she had made sure that her professors never saw it.
Now, it was just a few weeks left until she started her fourth year at the school, and she was certain that this year would be very different from the others.
The Malfoys were sitting around the long table in the Drawing Room, all dressed in black. Marina lifted the hood of her cloak off her head, scanning the room as she entered it. She loved the Drawing Room; it was always cold and empty, but she knew that as soon as her father would rise again, it would be filled with his followers.
"I met Potter at the World Cup," whispered Draco, as if they weren't allowed to talk, and the two sat down beside each other.
"Really? Did you stalk him again?"
Draco looked like he wasn't sure if he was to smile or frown at the comment.
"He was petrified when the Dark Mark appeared in the sky," Lucius joined in from across the table, hearing the children speak perfectly even though they were whispering. "The ministry thought it was he who had made it."
"Potter?" Marina burst into laughter. "He doesn't have the power to do so, that fool..."
Narcissa glanced at her, smiling a shy smile. She had raised the confident girl just as Bellatrix would have raised her, and was proud of herself for that. Once her sister made it out of Azkaban, she would thank her.
"And, you know, the Weasleys were there, too," Draco continued, "the pathetic father..."
The door to the room burst open before the blond could even finish his sentence. Marina kicked his leg hard under the table, and they watched a small group of her father's followers stumble into the room. There were three of them, each ready to bow down in front of her. Still, a hole was created in her stomach. Inside her head, she relived memories of them training her for the year to come.
Her hand fell to her lap, where layers of clothing were covering up her scars. They were still healing. It felt like no time had passed since her wounds had created a bloodbath on the floor of the same room they were sitting in. She told herself to swallow her pain. The hurt that was to come while she was at Hogwarts, would probably be a thousand times worse. She would be collecting bruises, wounds, and scars to ensure her family's future of rejoining with happiness.
"Barty Crouch Junior is alive!" Pettigrew announced loudly. "It is true!"
Marina bit her lip and straightened her back as he waltzed over to her side. He brought a hand up to her cheek, his sharp nails nearly meeting with her skin before she pulled away from him.
"My Lady, we are ready," he said with a raspy voice. "It is time. You must trick the boy so that the Dark Lord can rise again."
