Mariska turned to face the three masked figures. She was outnumbered and knew it. She knew that it would come to this. Her faults were many. She had married the wrong man, for the wrong reason. Only her daughter knew her inner mind. Her daughter was the reason she lived, and she would be the reason she would die. She had no regrets about that fact. She knew that it was her destiny to help her daughter further hers. She knew that she trusted her husband's idiocy too well. She knew that she should have put a silencing charm up whenever she and her daughter would speak.

Mariska Dolohov, was born Mariska Korscova. Her parents were from Russian blood purity. She had married Antonin to appease her father mostly. She was planning a bright future for herself. In her mind past dark beings such as Herpo the Foul, Morgan leFey, Gellert Grindewald, and Lord Voldemort were nothing compared to what she could have been. She blamed her father for her failure. When he died, she was glad. His death came too late though. She was far older than she should have been had she been destined for darkness. She was a married mother of a daughter. The birth rendered her unable to provide a male child. For this she felt disgraced.

Instead of dwelling on the negative she saw only that her daughter could be the darkness that she herself aspired to be. She knew that her daughter would accomplish great things. She was planning to forge a marriage between her daughter and the current dark being, Lord Voldemort. A marriage that once consummated would ensure a male heir for him. The plan was foolproof. She would have her husband Antonin set up the meeting. Her readings had told her that Halloween that year would be the perfect time to arrange such a meeting. They told her that he'd prevail in a pivotal task. That he'd be sure of his power. He'd be looking for someone to continue his bloodline.

It all went wrong. He fell from power. Her idiot husband got himself captured. All that was left for her was her daughter. She trusted that Lord Voldemort would be restored. She couldn't explain her insight; she felt that her daughter still had the destiny of being The Dark Queen. All that was left was waiting. She waited. Fourteen years later her dreams became reality. Lord Voldemort was restored. Her husband returned from Azkaban. Her plans resumed. She plotted with her daughter how best to reclaim her birthright of dark queen. All went well. Her dreams, plotting, and planning went to shit when she was told that Lord Voldemort had married. His wife was a neutral child. She was the sibling of "his most faithful". It angered Mariska. She began to plot the death of the queen.

Irina slowly crept up the stairs. She heard the distinctive cracking sound of apparition. She was frozen in place. In her mother's room she saw her defenseless mother at the window. She hated her cowardice. Even with all that her mother had expected of her, she never had the guts to follow through. She was all talk and knew it. She firmly believed that it was her father's blood that made her cower in the face of actual danger. She was a skilled duelist, an adequate potion maker. The rest of her talents, were really her mother. She watched still frozen at the scene unfolding.

She knew that her mother was innocent. It wasn't her fault that destiny was a fickle mistress. She had been raised from birth to become the queen. It was a fate that was stolen from her. She slowly resumed her climb up the stairs. She was certain that her mother was done. Irina felt certain that their innocence would allow them to live. All they had tried to do was usurp an unworthy queen. A queen that didn't want the job, Irina merely wanted to lift that burden.

Irina knew what she had to do. Before allowing her mother to die without her wand, she decided to retrieve both of their wands. She also knew that she'd be evening the odds. Three against two were much better odds than three against one. She skulked behind the masked figures, with her wand in her hand. She reached the bed where her mother's wand lay. She threw the wand to her mother.

The figures turned and saw Irina standing, wand at the ready. She quickly passed them to join her mother's side. The silent figures finally spoke.

"Mariska Dolohov, you are charged with conspiring to murder the queen. How do you plead?" a male voice asked forcefully.

"I plead not guilty. That woman is not the queen, my daughter is rightful queen."

"You leave me no choice. You do not accept your wrongs, your punishment is death. Do you understand?" Mariska merely tilted her head, and looked to Irina.

"My daughter, you understand? I don't. Shall we duel my angel?"

"Yes mother, we shall." Irina stated confident with her mother next to her. The female voice spoke.

"Please ladies make this easy on you. Mariska you are to die, be it now or at my lord's pleasure. Don't allow your daughter to suffer too. Drop your wands!"

"I'd rather not. My daughter is the queen! Not that whore!" Mariska stated venomously. The taller figure shook with anger. He let out curse after curse at Mariska. Irina dueled with the two other figures. She had the upper hand. She saw almost too late her mother hit with a flash of green energy. Before she could think what to do, her world went black.

"I was meant for so much more than this. My mother deserved so much more than that. Where did we go wrong? We did everything right. We were loyal to him. We believed he'd return. I was meant to be his queen. It was never meant to be that whore. She is a child, unskilled, untalented. Who could have betrayed us? Why were we targeted?

I am stuck in this darkness. If I ever get out of this place, they will all pay dearly. Everyone that betrayed us, and him, they will all pay. I promise vengeance. My mother will not go unanswered. I will make them pay the price I have. They will pay with their love."

Irina awoke in an unfamiliar place. She wasn't home and knew it. All she could see was a white ceiling; all she could hear was steady beeps. She moved her hand and saw a tube emerging from it. She looked around the cold room. Next to her hand was a button labeled "nurse". She pressed the button. Almost immediately a woman was at her side. "We wondered if we'd ever see those eyes again."

"W…W…Where am I?"

"You are in Moscow. What year is it?"

"It's how long have I been here?"

"Oh. You have been with us for the past sixteen years." Irina called all her magic, hoping that she had finally healed from whatever injury could cause such a long coma.

"Thank you for your care. I must be going."

"You must be tested first.

"No testing." Irina felt the sides of her bed; she was pleasantly surprised to see that her wand was by her side. She felt her magic course through her being, intoxicating her. Her thirst for revenge was palpable. She knew that she mother had died. She knew that she herself was injured. She knew that both of them were innocent. She drew back her wand and fired the first curse that came to her mind at the nurse.

Rising from her bed she looked around. Finding her chart, she saw a name written as her only visitor for a year after her coma. After that nobody saw her. Not her father, not anyone cared. She formed the plan to find the man that cared enough to spend every other day with her for a year. She knew the name; all that was left was to find Walden MacNair.