"Are you sure that you are ready for this?" Darya asked her daughter.
"I am." Marina's voice was shaking so badly that one could mistake her for a liar, but she was speaking the truth. She wiped her sweaty palms on the torn-up cloak her mother had let her borrow. She could have worn her Hogwarts robes, as she still had the clothes she had worn when she died, but she had become nauseous and nearly thrown up when trying to put them on.
She picked the flask of newly brewed Polyjuice Potion up from the ground, where it had laid beside a cauldron, bubbling, waiting to be used, and buried it deep into her pocket.
"Remember," Darya began, "in and out like a thief. You get your revenge and flee."
What Marina was about to do did not crave only her determination and cunning, but also bravery and courage. It was near Christmas now, and she had planned this day since Kreacher had returned to her in autumn. It was time to return from the grave, but she was to do it carefully and in disguise.
"Mum..."
Darya was quick to shush her when she realized that she was about to speak her last words to her in case she didn't make it. "No mercy," she simply said.
"No mercy," Marina repeated.
That was all the words they needed to exchange that day. Kreacher grabbed her hand, and they met a blinding light; she squeezed her eyes shut.
I will not fear. She repeated the four words in her head all the way to Malfoy Manor.
People often assume that the only way to fight darkness is with light. She disagreed with the statement. Darkness is to be fought with more darkness, for darkness does not always represent evil if you manipulate it for the right purpose. Forgive and forget. Or, do as she: seek vengeance and watch those who wronged you bleed.
With a final twirl, Marina and Kreacher landed steadily on their feet in the basement of the manor. It was dark as night though it was day: the cellar they were standing in had no lamps or windows. Wrapping her cloak closer around her, she twisted her head and found the only source of light coming from the peeking hole in the door of stone. She quickly discovered that a man was guarding the door from the outside; the back of his head could be seen through the hole.
Reaching for her mother's wand in her pocket, she prepared herself to curse him from behind, but when a thin voice behind her spoke her name, she turned away from him.
"Quiet." Marina attempted to speak as low as possible so that the man would not hear her. "Who is it?" she tried before she pointed her wand out in the dark, "Lumos!"
She did not recognize her at first. Luna's cheeks had become hollow, her eyes empty and her skin pale, marked with yellow bruises. Yet, she smiled. Then came the first, "curious. I thought you were dead."
"I thought so, too," Marina answered, and turned back to the guard to see if he was listening. He wasn't. Perhaps he had become so used to Luna's habit of talking to herself, that he had taught himself to block out words coming from the cell.
"Living dead girl," Luna whispered. "I'm happy you are here."
Luna began babbling about how unusual Marina's new scar and hair looked, but Marina was distracted by the coughs coming from the other side of the room. She turned, held her wand in front of her, and discovered a weak and old man there. He was leaning his back against the wall with his hands folded in his lap. When she crouched to get to his level, she could see who it was: Ollivander.
"Kreacher," she breathed without looking away from the man who had made her wand. "Can you get them out of here?"
Marina and Kreacher had not expected any prisoners to be in the cellar. They needed to get them out before they could start the plan. The elf walked to grab Ollivander and reached out a hand for Luna to take.
"Please go with him," Marina begged Luna. "He will get you somewhere safe. Trust me. I'll come back to you in a minute."
The three others Disapparated out of the building. Marina had no time to lose. She put out the light she had created and tucked her wand back into her pocket, her fingers gently touching the flask of Polyjuice Potion at the bottom of it. Then, she began to walk toward the door.
Her heart was beating out of her chest, rushing blood to her head. Revenge and violence was the only thing she could think of as she clasped her hands around the bars in the wide peeking hole, and looked the guard up-and-down. Plump, with little hair, he was resting his head on the cold metal.
"Sir?" Marina said with the softest, lightest voice she could. The guard flinched, jerked his head upward, and turned to her. His face was sunken, full of cuts, and his bushy eyebrows had now shot toward the ceiling. She looked him deep into his dark eyes as she pulled the sleeve of her cloak up and jabbed her arm between two bars. Showing him her Dark Mark, she continued, "I don't belong in here."
The man licked his thin lips as he scanned her face. "Well, then, how did you get stuck in there, girly?"
A lie formed quickly in her head. "I was serving them," she gestured behind her, "food this morning, and they overthrew me. Can you please let me out?"
The man hesitated. He looked behind him to see if there were any other Death Eaters there to help him make his decision, but there were none.
"I don't know about that, pretty girl."
Marina pouted her lips and batted her eyes. "Please," she whimpered. "I was supposed to help Mrs. Malfoy today..."
The man bit down on his lip, peeked at her through the hole, and slowly pulled out a gigantic and crooked key from his pocket. Marina took a step back as the door opened.
"Hurry up before the prisoners get out," he mumbled.
As she walked out of the cell, she asked, "is the Dark Lord present?"
"No. Didn't you attend the meeting yesterday?"
"I must have missed it," she answered quickly and watched him close the door behind them. "Where is he, then?"
"Another trip. Up north, I guess. I didn't really think much of it." He shoved his enormous face between two bars and looked into the cell with a vast amount of air blowing out of his nose. When he saw no prisoners, he drew his wand, whispered, "Lumos," and then, she watched his jaw drop. "Hey, where are-"
A lot happened at that moment: the white and blue light from the man's wand met with red and orange, and Marina quickly realized that it was Kreacher who had come back; the man opened his mouth and began to form a phrase that sounded much like an Unforgivable Curse; she drew her mother's wand and pointed it at him.
She cried out two harsh words: "Avada Kedavra!"
Though the green light she had created reached the man, he was still able to moan the curse which would attack Kreacher with the worst pain he could imagine before he fell to the floor. Marina's chest did not fill with regret from taking a life, but rather, fear for Kreacher's condition.
She whispered his name twice. Opening the door to the cell again, she felt her heart in her throat. The light from the hall fell on him like a curtain. He got to his feet, his body whole, only looking a little taken-back.
"Are you all right, Mistress Black?"
Marina ran forward and fell to her knees. She surprised even herself when she put her arms around the tiny house-elf and hugged him so tight both of them were struggling to breathe.
"We've got to hurry," she said, standing up again.
While he explained that the curse had not hit him, but rather the wall behind him, she found the Polyjuice Potion in her pocket and twisted the lid open.
The potion had a horrible smell. Grimacing, she put the flask up to her lips and downed the liquid down. As if the smell was not bad enough, the potion tasted nasty, and it felt like mud was running down her throat.
Shortly after the bottle had been emptied, and Marina had put it back in her pocket, the sick feeling she had felt when putting on her clothes came back. Her white hair shortened and became raven, the cloak she had borrowed from her mother suddenly became too small when her muscles grew, and her eyesight worsened so bad that she could barely see Kreacher anymore. She found the glasses her mother had gotten from Aberforth after they had told him of the plan, and slowly put them on.
"I hate this..." she mumbled as she looked down at Harry's body, "absolutely hate this."
Kreacher had found a silver plate in the corner of the room, which Marina assumed one of the prisoners had gotten food served off. The house-elf held it up so that she could get a glimpse of how she looked. But she looked away before she could see her reflection.
"Look, Mistress Black," he said, "you look just like the half-blood!"
"No thanks, I'm fine!"
Realizing her voice did not match her appearance in the slightest, she put her wand up to her cheek and spoke a spell in hopes that it would make her voice deeper. She knew she wouldn't sound like Harry, but she was dressed as him to trick the Death Eaters working in the manor - would they even know how his voice sounded? And if they somehow knew, would they remember it if he had been on the run for many months?
Built-up anger creates chaos. Marina had been filled with rage for as long as she could remember. Revenge and chaos always tasted sweet on her tongue, so she did not pause to wonder if what she was going to do was the right thing to do. It was Christmas, anyway, and she was feeling generous with the blessings in form of payback. Two years ago, Tom had given her a mass-breakout from Azkaban as a present, thus leading to her meeting Bellatrix, and Sirius' death. Now, it was time to give him a gift. And if she was dead, who would be better to gift Voldemort than Harry Potter himself?
The staircase leading from the cellar up to the Drawing Room was long and spiral. Another Death Eater was standing at the top of it, glancing over the room. After making sure nobody else was with them, Marina pulled out her mother's wand. Before he could turn to look at who was coming up the stairs, she dug it deep into his neck.
"Now, you are going to listen to me," she said, leaning in closer to him. Using her hand to clasp his mouth shut, she continued, "you are not going to move. If you move, I use every Unforgivable Curse on you, one by one. Is that understood?"
Kreacher came running up the staircase, and she knew what he had done in the cellar; she had always loved the smell of gasoline. The Death Eater nodded his head. It was noticeable that he had smelled the fury, too. Twisting his head, she got a good look at him. He looked exactly like his son: round and with dark eyes and hair.
"Do you know who I am?" she asked, pointing the wand at his forehead.
Crabbe looked terrified, squirming in her arms. Yet, he put on a brave face when he spoke the name: "Harry Potter." Just hearing him say his name made her disgusted. He said it with so much hate that his body twitched. "The Dark Lord will know you're here, boy! He'll be on his way!"
He reached for his wand, but Kreacher was quick to snap his fingers and make it fly across the room.
"And what were you planning on doing with that wand? Were you going to hurt me? Try to impress your Lord?" She pushed his head further back, so it was resting on her shoulder. Digging her wand into his chest now, she smiled, "Cruci-"
"NO!" Crabbe yelled so loud that the chandeliers shook. "Don't do it!"
But Marina only smiled wider, "next curse, then? Avada Ked-"
"PLEASE!"
"You know, I just killed your friend down in the basement. I don't think taking another life would keep me up at night."
Sweat pouring down his face and neck, he tried to escape her, but she had Harry's strength now; he was simply helpless.
"I beg you," he made an effort, "please don't hurt me. I am begging you..."
"Oh, are you?" She knew that the coward begging for her mercy could be the very man who had killed her family, destroyed her home, captured Louis, or hurt Harry or any member of Dumbledore's Army. "Because if you were begging, you would be on your knees."
"I won't bow for you, you dirty-"
Before he could finish, wrath took control of her. She watched him fall to the ground, quivering and screaming. There had to be other people in the manor. Instead of lifting the torture curse or making him silent, she asked Kreacher to block every entrance there was to the Drawing Room, and he did so by tearing the house apart. Parts of the ceiling fell down in front of the doors to the room.
Crabbe slowly became blue, and his cries weaker. She finally lifted the curse off him. "Are you ready to beg now?"
Breathless, the man pushed himself and got to his knees. "Don't... hurt me..."
"Here's what you're going to do." She gripped his chin, pushing his face upward so that he had to look at Harry's face. "You're going to get to the Ministry. Tell them, and every paper you can think of, that it was I who burned down Malfoy Manor. Let the Dark Lord know."
"Y-yes," Crabbe shivered in response.
"And if you fail to do this, I will find you again. Maybe I'll visit your son, too. Vincent, right? Vincent Crabbe. I could recognize that face anywhere."
While the terrified man found his way out of the manor, trying to Apparate without a wand, Marina parted her lips to speak once more. However, this time, she spoke in Parseltongue. Calling on Nagini, and seeing her slither toward her, joining her side like a long shadow, was the last thing she did before she pointed her wand at the staircase.
"Fiendfyre," was all she needed to say. Mixed with the gasoline, the flame grew uncontrollable and produced a heat that would surely destroy anything in its path within seconds. The fire could not be extinguished by normal or enchanted water; the Death Eaters didn't stand a chance.
Marina found herself standing in the forest behind the manor a short minute later, Kreacher and Nagini by her side as she watched her childhood home burn to ashes. A twisted smile on her face, she knew that this was the end of much evil. If any Death Eaters survived the attack, they would be weakened and left without headquarters.
After pretending to be her home for sixteen years, they earned their little dollhouse burning down. After hurting her and everyone she loved, convincing themselves they were doing the Wizarding World a favor, they deserved the heat.
Hog's Head Inn was small, extraordinarily dirty and strewn with sawdust; the windows nearly opaque and the floor all but invisible beneath the dirt. A fireplace in the corner made sure that it was always warm, and Marina appreciated it, even more, knowing that a snowstorm was striking against the roof and walls.
She sat on a tall stool in front of the bar, watching her mother sneak behind the cash register, looking for something that they could eat on the cold Christmas Eve. In front of her lay a copy of The Quibbler. The front carried a picture of Harry, emblazoned with the words Undesirable Number One, and captioned with the reward money.
She wondered if Rita's works about her death had crossed Harry's path. If he was traveling and looking for Horcruxes, he must have found a way to keep himself updated on what was happening in the Wizarding World. Unless something had gone wrong - maybe he had returned home after not locating any Horcruxes? Wherever home was, looking for something that could be anywhere and everywhere could surely make someone lose their mind.
Nagini gave a chilling hiss when Kreacher tried to walk over her so he could stand next to Darya. Marina jumped, plunging back to reality. "Stop it, Nagini..."
The door to the inn opened, and in came Aberforth, shaking snow off himself. Mumbling about how awful the weather was, he stumbled to the bar. Marina stood up, unsure of how to greet him.
He was as tall as her former Headmaster. Glancing up at him, she tried to peek past his long, stringy, wire-grey hair and beard, and look into his eyes.
Before she could say anything, he smiled at Darya and burst out, "you weren't lying when you said she looked like her father." He took off his gloves and smacked them down on the counter. "Welcome back from the dead. How was the rest?"
Marina sat back down. "I must confess that the darkness was calming."
"Ha! Better than seeing day, then." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement, though he had never seen the long night himself. "Got you a nice scar, too."
Aberforth and Darya worked together to make dinner for the three, and they ate together. The meat was nearly impossible to chew, but Marina did not want to be rude or complain, so she did her best at swallowing it with a tremendous amount of wine. When the others turned away or got distracted by chatter, she served handfuls of her food to Nagini, who happily devoured it under the table.
"I've heard a lot about you, Marina," Aberforth growled, mouth full of food. "You've been reading what the papers say about you?"
She shook her head. "I wish I could say the same to you, but only my mum have spoken your name. I did know your brother, though."
Immediately regretting drawing the attention to Dumbledore, who had just passed away this year, she felt color drench from her face.
"Who didn't know Albus?" He took a pause to sip his wine, then pointed his fork her way. "Listen here, dear: there are a lot of bad men who wish to hurt you. I don't care what my brother Albus encouraged you to do - rebel, resist, or revolt - you should get away and flee the country as fast as you can. You don't owe him anything."
"I don't," she answered honestly. "And I could flee anytime. But the boy I love is currently being hunted down by a group of murderers, so I'd prefer to stay and try to help him."
Aberforth snickered and caught Darya's eye, "stubborn one right there..."
"I don't think it's necessary to remind you that we're in the middle of a war, Sir, I know you have felt the effects of it. Don't you want to fight, too?"
"You-Know-Who has won, it's over, and anyone who's pretending different's kidding themselves."
"So optimistic and hopeful." Marina rolled her eyes. She turned to her mother, who was looking down at her plate with her mouth shut. "What do you think I should do? Do you want me to hide away, or go out there and show myself?"
"What are you planning on doing, anyway?" Aberforth burst out again before Darya could form a sentence. "You don't know where the boy is."
"Tell me," Marina spat, feeling anger boil in her veins whenever the Dumbledore spoke, "how do you know that he is on the run? You behave like the war is lost, but are also a member of the Order of the-"
"The Order of the Phoenix is finished!" Aberforth declared.
"You say that, but it was the Order who told you where Harry was, wasn't it?" Marina answered quickly. The man did not answer, but stared at her in silence. "The Order is still alive. I will get in contact with them, and I will take it from there. With all due respect, Aberforth, I do not need your opinions on how to live my life."
He sneered, picked up his plate, and walked away from the table and up the stairs that led to his bedroom. It was obvious that he was not going to offer her help anytime soon.
Immediately, she began thinking of who else could help her. There were no members of the Order left at Grimmauld Place. Kreacher had told her so. She could travel to the Burrow, but that would be a great risk. Death Eaters were probably hiding near the blood traitors' house. Shivering, she realized that the member of the Order that was the closest to her now was Snape, who, according to Aberforth, was the new Headmaster at Hogwarts.
"L'amour de ma vie," Darya spoke softly, finally looking at her. "I don't think anything I say will make you change your mind. Showing that you are alive will be dangerous, but I know you will not care. You're a survivor, it's written all over your body. You will find a way to survive the danger."
Almost surprised that her mother was showing her support, she couldn't help but smile. She glimpsed hope. "Do you want to come with me?"
Darya shook her head. She got out of her seat, gathered their plates, and carried them to the sink.
Marina understood that her mother had been hiding for seventeen years and that she was afraid of being found by the Dark Lord, who would like to see her dead. But Darya was familiar with Tom's Horcruxes - his weaknesses. Why didn't she want to stand up and fight when they, with enough power, could kill him? Marina had already taken down a dozen Death Eaters on her own. Imagine how many she could end with her mother, along with every member of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army, by her side...
"Why won't you join me? Are you scared of getting hurt or dying? You know a long, wasted life in hiding is worse than death."
Darya tucked her golden hair behind her ears, and rested her hands on her hips. She took a moment to think before she finally answered, "I don't think you understand my situation."
"Then help me understand!" Marina cried out, standing up. "Mum, things have changed since you went into hiding! People are assembling, using their voices, wanting to end Tom and his followers. The Order can protect us, we just have to stand with them! When you weren't there for me, and I had no one else, they became my family. Even after I told them I had planned to hurt Harry, the boy they were protecting, they welcomed me into their homes. Can't you just trust me?"
"I- I can't join you," was all Darya managed to press out.
Marina felt her eyes fill with tears made from anger and despair. She didn't want to say it aloud, but right then and there, he thought of her own mother as cowardly. Instead of screaming, or fighting more with her, she pulled out her wand and laid it on the table.
"Kreacher, I'm ready to go back to Hogwarts."
"No," whispered Darya weakly. She had tears rolling down her cheeks. "Take my wand, Marina. You need a wand. You have been practicing with mine for months."
To stop herself from crying, Marina squeezed her eyes shut and bit her tongue. This was another ending. She hated endings. Why couldn't the good things just stay?
"When will I see you again?" she asked without opening her eyes. "Will you be here the next time I come here?"
"No," was all Darya said.
Marina gave a great shiver. Picking up the wand again, she opened her eyes to watch both Kreacher and Nagini gather around her.
"You're wrong and out of hope. I'm going to win the war, and I will find you again. There will be a day when you can come out of hiding."
"Just promise me one thing." Darya spoke with a thin voice. "Promise me that you are going to use what the Death Eaters taught you when they raised you. You have been surrounded by lions for long now, but you can't forget that you are a serpent. You know that following the light is not always the thing to do. Give protection to only those who stand behind you; respect to those beside you; no mercy to those against you. Be brutal. Paint yourself as the villain for him. He cannot kill you."
Marina felt her chin tremble, and warm tears stream down her face. "I love you, mum."
"Goodbye, my darling. Until we meet again."
The red flashing light that was created with the touch of Kreacher's hand hurt. She felt weak, but she knew that she could not show it.
Heartless. Was that what she was going to become? With a grin for war, eyes flecked with ash from the bodies and buildings she had burned and features born from thunder and lightning. Her head would be bloody but unbowed.
Luna and Ollivander were safe inside the Room of Requirement. They spent Christmas Eve talking about Luna's father, his unusual ideas, and strange beasts he had seen. Marina debated whether to join them or not; to jump into their conversation and annoy them with her presence. She stood silently, wondering in the shadow until the clock struck eleven, and there was only an hour left of Christmas Eve.
Kreacher helped her Apparate to the new Headmaster's office. Not much had changed in the room, but Albus had gotten a portrait beside the other former Headmasters and Headmistresses. He was sleeping peacefully. Marina was looking up at him when the door burst open, and Snape's cold voice bounced between the walls when he asked who had entered his office.
Slowly, Marina turned around to face him. He had his wand pointed at her, to which she reacted with a small chuckle. "You're going to kill me, Professor? Good luck. It seems impossible to do."
He put his wand away, greasy hair falling into his eyes. "What happened to you?"
"I don't know, try asking Rita Skeeter." The last time she had seen her Head of House, he had killed Albus. She looked between the portrait of the former Headmaster and the new Headmaster, then met his eyes. "You're the Half-blood Prince, aren't you?"
Snape tilted his head upward. She took it as a yes.
"I figured. Think back to the night you killed Albus. That curse I used on Bellatrix - it was your work, wasn't it?"
Abruptly, Snape lunged forward. He reached out his hands and took a grip around her head. Curiosity must have gotten the best of him, for suddenly, the day of Marina's death replayed in her head. He had entered her mind, and was now watching everything that had occurred that day: her and Harry talking to Cedric's father; them leaving to go to Grimmauld Place; them speaking to Ron and Hermione; the fight with the Death Eaters, and Harry's lifeless body. But when the memory of when the Death Eater dressed as Harry had kissed her was presented, she stepped back, pushing Snape out and away.
"Stop it," she whined. He didn't care, however, for he only came after her and entered her mind again.
With every memory playing faster than the previous, she watched herself get punched by the Death Eater, left alone in the forest, and eventually, slip under the ice and down to the bottom of the sea where her mother had saved her. First, a red light hit her chest, and she was knocked unconscious; that was Tom's stunning spell. Then, a green light hit her face; that was Darya's killing curse.
Everything turned dark after that, but Snape did not let go of her head. She panted, feeling her muscles tighten and her heart beat faster. Unexpectedly, a scene that she could not recognize played in her head.
It was a memory from the moment after she died. She watched a screaming Voldemort grasp his chest, stumbling back; it must have been the moment he felt her, a part of his soul, die.
Next, she saw a flashing of Tom's old diary. It was carried in the hands of Lucius, then, with a spin of her head, it fell into Ginny's hands, then Harry's; he stabbed it with the Basilisk's fang, and everything turned black again. It was only for a second: now, she watched the young Tom Riddle play with a ring. Another spin, and Albus Dumbledore was stabbing it with a large sword.
A darkness spread for a third time, then, she saw her father grasp Salazar Slytherin's locket. Only a wink after, she was wearing it around her neck on the day of her death: the final memory of the locket was it resting against Voldemort's chest while he sat in the dark.
The memory of a diadem made Marina lose her balance, for, instead of seeing anyone holding it, she saw the outline of the very castle she was standing in.
The next recollection, after another black pitch, was a woman. She fell to the floor, and then, twisted inside-out. Marina's head spun once again. Now, she saw Nagini, who was on the floor in the Room of Requirement.
Finally, she saw a bedroom that belonged to a child, or rather, a baby, who was sitting in his crib, wailing. On the floor lay a woman completely still. Tom Riddle stood over her, his wand pointed at the baby. With another spin, everything changed. She was now looking at Harry, who had Hermione by his side. They were standing in a graveyard, the grave in front of them reading the names of Harry's parents.
Snape let go of her. Both wide-eyed and white-faced, she realized that she had just seen every Horcrux Tom had made and their locations.
Seven Horcruxes. The number seven seemed to follow her wherever she went.
She had long thought that Harry had been a Horcrux, but now that it had been confirmed, she felt her heart break. He had to die.
"Professor," she uttered, out of breath, "please. You must know where Harry is. The Order must have told you something. I need to see him."
Snape had turned away from her. He was looking at the floor, his head bowed. "I know where he is," he spoke low. "The Order does not know, but I do."
"Why? Why shouldn't the Order know? Aren't they supposed to take care of him and protect him?"
He turned back to her, lines forming on his forehead. "Harry did not tell a soul where he went, but every wizard knows where his parents were buried."
Perhaps she could have come to the conclusion herself; she knew which graveyard Lily and James had been laid to rest in, for it was not far away from the house they had been killed in. What hurt her, was that Harry was spending Christmas Eve looking at the grave that belonged to his parents.
"I'm going there," declared Marina.
"Wait," answered Snape, already walking to Dumbledore's old desk. He reached his hand under it, and to Marina's awe, he pulled out the very sword Dumbledore had used to destroy Tom's ring with in her memories. "If you go to him, you will bring him this. This might be the only thing that can destroy the Horcruxes."
He was not looking at her, but rather, behind her, at the portraits hanging on the wall. Twisting, she discovered that Dumbledore was awake in his portrait. He was gazing back at Snape, and she came to the conclusion that giving Harry the sword that carried the name Gryffindor might have been Dumbledore's idea, not Snape's.
"We must hurry, Kreacher. Get ready to leave," Marina said, walking to take the sword from Snape. It was made of pure silver, and its hilt was set with egg-sized rubies. The full name of Godric Gryffindor was engraved in the blade.
"You do not know Occlumency or Apparation," Snape remarked, his lip twitching.
"How observant you are. I don't have my own wand, either, but I still managed to burn down Tom's headquarters. Perhaps you should check up on your Death Eater friends tonight... See if they survived the heat."
Marina stepped back, gripped Kreacher shoulder, and looked at the Headmaster one last time before they Disapparated.
The snow in Godric's Hallow was falling to the ground silently and softly in contrast to the storm that was brewing in Hogsmeade. Kreacher became preoccupied with wiping snowflakes off his gigantic nose, and Marina tried to blow warm air on her hands as she rested the sword against her feet.
The graveyard they were now standing it bore the name of St Jerome's graveyard and was hidden away behind a little church whose stained-glass windows were glowing jewel-bright across the square. Row upon row of snowy tombstones faced them.
It was midnight. Everything was gray and dull, and every person living in the small village was safe inside their home, trying to appreciate the Christmas night. Silence would be the only thing Marina could think of if it had not been for the hushed sobs traveling with the wind.
Cold took over her body, and it wasn't because of the snow that fell on her, but because she knew that it was Harry's cries. Feeling as if the wind was leading and showing her the way to him, she followed it.
He still stood in front of the grave of his parents, Hermione by his side. Flowers had been placed upon the grave, and though Marina could only see the side of his face and body, she could tell that Harry was weeping and shaking.
She glanced down at the sword, then back at Harry. Placing the sword on the ground, she shook her head slowly. It wouldn't feel right to walk up to him and show herself.
She drew her wand and closed her eyes. "Expecto Patronum."
The silver doe escaped her wand and began galloping toward Harry and Hermione. They would never know it was hers.
Once it had captured their attention, it came running back to where she and Kreacher were standing.
"I don't think we're alone here," she heard Hermione say.
The two followed the doe, and it led them to the Sword of Gryffindor. Before they could see Marina, she and Kreacher disappeared into thin air.